The Crossing, Berlin to Alcobaça

When I left Berlin behind, months of preparation gave way to reality. From that moment on, there was only my bicycle, the road, and the challenge of crossing Europe all the way back home.

Germany was the perfect beginning. Forests, rivers, canals, and quiet secondary roads offered exactly the kind of cycling experience I had hoped for. It was also there that I discovered an unexpected level of hospitality. Asking for water often turned into a friendly conversation and, on more than one occasion, ended with sharing a local craft beer with people I had only just met.

Not everything went according to plan. Gravel roads, strong headwinds, and the time needed for everyday tasks forced me to abandon my original goal of riding around 180 kilometres a day. I quickly realised that the journey had to adapt to reality rather than to the plan I had carefully designed months before.

The Netherlands offered some of the finest cycling infrastructure I have ever experienced. Everything seemed designed for bicycles, and before long I stopped thinking only about the destination and began enjoying each day for what it was.

After crossing the Port of Antwerp, I entered France. I chose to bypass Paris to the north, having already visited the city in the past. Further south, the Loire Valley became one of the highlights of the journey. Cycling past magnificent castles and historic châteaux, surrounded by rivers, vineyards, and quiet villages, was an unforgettable experience.

The Pyrenees marked the transition into Spain and became the greatest physical challenge of the entire trip. Long climbs, persistent rain, and accumulated fatigue sometimes forced me to push the bicycle uphill. Yet those same mountains rewarded me with some of the most breathtaking scenery of the entire crossing.

In Spain, the stages became longer and required more careful planning. As I got closer to Portugal, I also began missing the simple comfort of Portuguese home cooking, flavours that had been absent from my daily routine for several weeks.

I entered Portugal through Vilar Formoso and continued towards Guarda, Viseu, and Coimbra. The roads, the landscapes, and the towns gradually became familiar again. It was the feeling that home was finally close.

In Alcobaça, a group of friends and family was waiting for me beside the Monastery to celebrate my arrival. After thousands of kilometres from Berlin, finishing the journey surrounded by the people who had supported me from afar was a moment I will never forget.

Over the course of several weeks, I crossed six countries, faced wind, rain, heat, mountains, and thousands of kilometres of road. But what I brought home was far more than the distance I had covered. It was the people I met, the landscapes I discovered, and the experiences that turned this journey into one of the most memorable adventures of my life.