Farklipparen

Har klipper jag far hos Jacke, tretton stycken hann det bli denna dag. Bilden ar tagen av Mikael Andersson.

En ny resa och ett nytt projekt

Det var nastan tre ar sedan som jag skrev pa denna blog. Da var den tankt for de som foljde mig pa min cykelresa fran Sverige till Gambia. Sista inlagget berattade jag att jag fatt praktikplats som fotograf och att jag ville skaffa en segelbat. Vad som har hant dessa tre ar ar kort foljande:

jag kopte en segelbat pa 5,6 meter som star pa land i Torshalla for tillfallet. Jag larde mig segla med den och det ar riktigt harligt att segla! En dag blir det nog en langre resa med den, hittils har jag seglat till Birka och hem. Efter att ha praktiserat som fotograf pa Eskilstuna-Kuriren fick jag borja jobba med det pa riktigt, och det var verkligen en drom som gick i uppfyllelse. Jag hoppade in som vikarie periodvis i terminerna nar jag ocksa pluggade och somrarna 2008 och 2009. Jag pluggade efter sommaren jag kom hem ryska i Uppsala under ett ar. Sedan reste jag och en klasskompis till Ukraina och gick over en stor del av Krimhalvon da jag larde mig att tala lite mer ryska. Jag bodde under tiden som student i Uppsala forsta aret pa en gammal lotsbat pa Fyrisan, dar jag traffade min fastmo, Laila. Andra aret borjade jag plugga spanska, da pluggade jag 50%, tog skepparexamen med Laila, och hoppade in en hel den pa Eskilstuna-Kuriren. Tredje aret i Uppsala sa pluggade jag spanska igen och nu ar vi nastan framme i dagslaget!

Jag ansokte sedan till en universitet i Minsk for att forbattra min ryska och blev antagen, men sa hoppade jag av, for att nagot annat dok upp i min vag. Nya Zeeland och farklippning =) Grejen var den att Laila tyckte vi borde gora nagot tillsammans istallet, och jag holl med. Hon ville aka till Nya Zeeland men jag visste inte vad jag skulle gora dar. Sa en vacker dag var jag hos Jacke, min van vars familj har en bondgard med en massa far. Och den dagen var det tva farklippare dar, jag fick testa nagra drag med maskinen och forstod att detta var nagot for mig. Efter att ha forstatt att Mecka for farklippning ar Nya Zeeland ringde jag upp Laila och sa att vi kunde boka biljetterna, och gissa om hon blev glad =)

Vi skulle akt den nionde februari, men vi fick inte visumet i tid for Nya Zeeland. Sa vi bokade om flyget till 22 April istallet. Under tiden bodde vi hos Lailas pappa och mjolkade kor pa hans gard, och hos min mamma och foljde med Micke som ar farklippare i Sormland som larlingar. Det hann bli en hel del farklippning for min del, och ganska mycket for Laila ocksa. Jag ar verkligen glad att vi kunde folja med Micke och att han larde oss, battre larare far man leta efter.

Till resan! : Eftersom att vi skulle flyga genom USA sa passade vi pa att flyga till Mexiko for att tala spanska och ata tacos. Sedan Nya Zeeland nastan ett ar pa working holiday visum for att jobba som farklippare och turista. Pa hemvagen blir den nagra dagar i USA eftersom jag aldrig varit dar forut.

My old home, but a new life

About three months ago I stepped out of the car to my old home. And lots of things have happened to me. Today I'm working as a photographer on a newspaper in Sweden. After a week or so, I met this newspaper to do an article about my bicycle-journey. The photographer liked my pictures so much and thats how this all started. Nowadays I walk around with journalists and my cameragear. My camera is a Canon EOS-1 D with tele-lens, wideangle, makro etc. I can work in the studio as well. During the time I spent here I've met awesome people, pulled up cowes from mud, chased dogs, concerts and lots of other stuff.

I'm thinking about buying a sailboat now. The boat I'm thinking about is swedish, 6,35 meter. I think the boat could to a big distance, it would be cool to go on a long journey again.

that's all for now, carpe diem

Back home, the beginning of something new

From that day I started going back north from Banjul, I went with five taxis, three ferries, one truck and three buses to a little village outside Granada. I was going to the cave. Up I ran the mountains of Sierra Nevada to find her, alone. She had been waiting for me. I moved in. I made friends with a dog called Luna who moved to me. The view was so nice. But it was a bit lonely up there.

After about two weeks I left. I booked tickets with airplane to go home. The 19 of April I left the cave and my friends, Erik, Durita, Freya, Shaun, Csilla, Concho, Ossian, Anders, Lena and Luna. When I walked out in Sweden, it really felt like home. The smell, all the nature, the cold breeze.. Robert, my brother was waiting for me. We put the luggage in his car and then we drove closer to this journeys end. Suddenly, while looking at the trees, I realized how far I cycled. "I went on the bike, from here, and down there!". It was so beautiful. All those trees passing by the carwindow. I started thinking about the wind. She has helped me during all of this journey. Sometimes she pushed me in the Europe, sometimes not. But I she was never so concerned there, because help was close if i needed it.

But in the Sahara she was the one who helped me the most. Maybe the wind thought I couldn't do the desert. So she tested me for several days. The wind was so strong, it was cold and rainy. But I passed this test, and then she knew I could do it. And I deserved her pushing me forward in that waste landcape. Beacause the winds were with me since that day. Now I was going out of the car to were I started the 9 of May 2005. This was the 20 of April 2006. The wind was quiet now. As soon as I looked up I saw the eyes of my mother in the door of her house. I walked out on the street I've been playing since I was a kid. And I screamed. The wind helped me again, she took my scream out over all the places I've been, it told all the people I've met, and others I've seen, the scream was the one from me, Martin. And it told everyone I was home. Everything in the universe stopped, and became one. I've succeeded.

The turning-point of my journey

Later in Dakar I realised I was trying to come up with new ideas to continue south in vain. I came to know that the only way was back, north. Once I accepted that it felt so good, the cycle-journey was over, I didn't want to do it anymore. I felt a rush of joy and excitement in my body over the thought of going back. A new adventure! But before turning, I wanted to cycle to Banjul in the Gambia, because Dakar feels a little bit cliché with the Paris-Dakar rally. Joshua and me said goodbye to eachother, we were hoping to meet up in Banjul.

I went out of the huge city Dakar and on a dirttrack in to the bush. This was cool. In a village the children were helping me to push my bicycle forward in the sand and we crossed a paved road. I continued to Toubab Dialow were I stopped to the next day. I wanted to make I stop here because the waves were good. I surfed on my body in the sunset, beautiful.. Next day I continued but the dirttrack was gone. I tried to cycle on the sand of the beach whitch was a difficult business. Soon I gave up but soon found the dirttrack. I wanted to go back to the paved road so I went inland to cross the road.

I went in further and further and I got more and more tired. There was a lot of sand on the track and I had been pushing the bike since eight o'clock, the time was now twelve. I was lost in the bush, I'd been chosing several ways just to move forward. I knew that the way back was so long so I continued. Up came a little village. The women and children was surprised over the "toubab" (white man in their language) turning up from nowhere. I saw a donkey with a cart. The donkey belonged to a man who was working. After some discussing we made an agreement that the man's little brother was going to take me out to the paved road for 800 CFA.

Soon we were on our way. The donkey was hauling it's cart with my bicycle, luggade and one kid. The other kid (the brother) was controlling the donkey. We didn't move fast, but I appreciated to walk slowly instead of dragging that bike in the sand. The sun was blistering. We passed two other small villages were the people were interested in our business. Then we came in to the town Diass, where we found the paved road. I payed the boys for their work, we said goodbye. I was tired, the time was two o'clock. I got invited to eat with two shopkeepers. I ate and then I continued. On the fourth day I reached the Gambia. On the borders I got to know that my english friend Tony Eveling had passed the borders only a little time before me.

I was happy and cycled on everything I had. This road from the border to the ferry was like a Switzerland cheese. Zigzagging my path, I hoped to bump in to Tony on the road to Banjul, but I never did. I passed the Gambia river with the ferry. My idea was now to book a flight with the Gambia Experience, a english company, to London. But they wouldn't accept my overweight, so I had to send over the bike seperatly with a freight company. The price of DHL was 800 Euros. Crazy! I would never pay that, a lot more than I payed for the bike! I took for granted that the other freight companies wouldn't be so cheap in any case. I took a fast decision to go back all the way with the transports available. It would be fast if I did it intense, and way more cheap than flying. The following day I was to be on my way north.

Which way?

I'm in Dakar, Senegal. My camera is stolen since a week. The first time it got stolen was in Casablanca, then I found it in a market and got it back. But maybe this time it's gone for good.

I feel that my journey will change a lot in a short future. But what way will I choose? My bicycle has been with me over 10 700 kilometers, from Eskilstuna to Dakar, about ten months. The thought of moving to my cave has grown stronger since the day I left it, I've been dreaming about it often. But not quite yet, I still have some things to do before I go back to Spain. We (me and Joshua) have searched for a sailboat to cross the Atlantic Ocean, talked about riding horses and gold panning further in the continent, rafting in the Niger or Gambia river. I see so many new ways I could change to, instead of cycling...

My energy is coming back after a negative period in Senegal. I start to adapt and to accept. After lots of ice-cream, chawarma and other good stuff put in my stomach, company with my friends Joshua and Emma, I feel ready to move on. Next stop I already know, a big party in Banjul, the Gambia!

Chamonix and Mount Blanc

When I left Strasbourg I had Chamonix as my next goal. Sandra's aunt and her family lives there so it was a perfect place to make a stop. I rode in beutiful landscapes, saw Tour de France live twice, first time with a cool japanese cyclist. Into Switzerland, over to Martigny where I made a hard mountain pass, Col de la Forclaz. I did this mountain with Martin from Poland. I met him at the foot of the mountain. A cool guy with a old bike but he knew how to cycle with it. I thought I had met my overman in cycling fast, because Martin was cycling good. But later it got to hard, and he stepped of his bicycle while I continued. I understand this because I have several gears to choose from, but Martin's old bicycle haven't.

Glad to have made another goal I cycled in to Chamonix. At the tourist office I found Diddi, Sandra's aunt. The weeks before Chamonix I thought was going around in my head, I was thinking about climbing Mt Blanc. I told Diddi and Pierre about it. They said that if I do it, I have to do it with a guide, otherwise it's to dangerous without experience. One day I saw a Haglofs backpack (a swedish brand). The guy having it was from Finland and his name was Jaakko. We trekked toghether in the Mt Blanc Massif and had fun. Both of us had wanted to climd the big mountain. But it never happened. It was something I decided, not to climb it, and it was a hard decision. I knew that Diddi and Pierre didn't want me to climb it, and I can understand that. But the possibility was with the guide, but a guide? I don't want to be guided up when I can do it myself. So I left Mt Blanc unclimbed, but one day we will meet again, and then I will be prepared.

The night after this decision I couldn's sleep. I layed thinking for a long while about what I should do instead. Cycle to Africa, that is big, Sweden - Africa by bicycle. No, it's not enough, I have to see some of Africa also. Cycle from Sweden to where the sand of Sahara begins, that will be my new goal, I will do it! That's also the words I told Diddi, Pierre, Elodie and Amanda, before I went back on the road again. Elodie said that Sahara is far away, something I new. That was why I wanted to do it.

A long journey begins

The 9 of May was the day I left little Lundby in little Eskilstuna in Sweden. I left to the big world calling for me. With a Dawes super galaxy bicycle I bought on Ebay, Ortlieb panniers with my luggage, I left to make an adventure and to pratice my french language. In the beginning, in Sweden, I cycled to fast and hard with all that luggage, so my knee went bad. First I thought that all of this journey was over, because a bad knee is a problem. But stubborn as I am, I continued all the way to my german friends, Abel and Carlo, in Tecklenburg, Germany. There I gave my knee and myself rest for three weeks. We had so fun those weeks, we made lots of parties, played much music toghether and Jacob, one of my swedish friends, came to see me and the germans for one week. We drove with the car to Amsterdam in Holland. There someone broke up the car, and Jacob's bag was stolen. To leave the country we had to go to the Swedish embassy in Den Haag. In Haag, Jacob bought a emergency passport, and the same day we went back to Germany.

The night before going to the embassy we were on a campingsite. There I met a english hippie touringcyclist who changed my way of cycling to the better. During my journey I had always been cycling about 100km, I woke up early, and cycled to the evening. I asked this english man, who were cycling with the same kind of bicycle as mine, when he was going up tomorrow. He answered me "I don't know, when I wake up I guess". The second question I asked was how long distance he was going to cycle, "Well that depends how long I feel like cycling". He did not cycle with a cyclecomputer, he was a relaxed guy who had been young in the 60s, he told me that he lived the hippie life. This mans relaxed way of life made me change my cycling routine more relaxed.

After these three weeks, when I sat up on the bike once again, my knee was good! It was a warm summer day I left. The fields were green and all nature alive. I went trough Germany, Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg, and finally in to France. This was the country I had been cycling so long to enter. My first meeting with the french language was in Belgium. They spoke fast and it was not easy to understand. But I learned as I continued. Entering France was a little bit weird. "Is this it, I'm already here?" I asked myself.

That first day in my final country, I met a guy loaded like me with his bike. His name was Adam, and he was from South Africa. He started in Holland and was going to Italy. He was tall, almost two meter, and very friendly. We decided to cycle toghether to Strasbourg where my girlfriend was going to meet me. Adam stayed two days with me and Sandra at the campingsite in Strasbourg. We had been searching maps the day before he left. Adam looked for a good map over Switzerland. When I bought maps over France, a map over Morocco passed in my eyes. "Morocco, maybe I will go so far this journey" I thought for myself. When we left the mapsshop I had bought those maps over France, and also Rough Guides map over Morocco! Cycle Sweden to Africa, that's a long way, but I had been thinking about it before. But just thoughts. Now was reality. "If I want to do it I can do it" I said to Sandra.

Working and Studying

After my journey I worked as a baker in a industry. Sandra, my girlfriend was working at the same place. The job was well payed but not so interesting. The days where always the same. After this I started a French course on the university. I was studying hard all days long and during this course I decided to go to France with a bicycle. It was a good idea, I could try to do a bigger bicycle journey, a smaller adventure, and practise my french. I passed all my exams good, and at the end of this course I searched for a job. First I didn't find any jobs, so I continued to study the following french course on the university. Within two weeks a big tulip grower I asked for job before called me up and said I could work there. I quitted the french course and worked full time a the tulip place. I really liked this work even if it was hard. I was working many hours per day, about 9 or 10 hours, six days per week to earn money. The first day I had a cold, but worked anyway. I was in a fridge where they stored the tulip onions in boxes, and me and three other guyes lifted several tons of boxes to the green house. I only worked and slept during this work so I never had time to plan my journey. After the season was over I got two weeks more to work before I had to go. I was glad over this because I needed the money. At the end of this job I decided to start my journey as soon as I could. I took about one month before the weather was ok, and during this time I was planning the trip and buying things.

My first bicycle journey

Many of my friends friends went in to the army after secondary upper school. I was free some weeks that summer before starting to work as a baker. I decided to cycle, to the summerhouse of my aunt and her husband in Dalarna in Sweden. The second day of the vacations I cycled away with my tent attatched to the handelsbars with tape, and my uncle's old moped bags. It was wonderful to cycle, but it made me tired in my body. The night I spended in an old toilet belonging to a abandoned house next to a lake. It was not in use (the toilet) so it didn't smell shit for those who wonder=) It was a swedish "dass", a traditional toilet, and it was big. So I took in the bicycle and my things. The next day I arrived to the summerhouse. When I went back I spended my night in the same place. Back in my town after this cycle journey I put the things at home and took my old bicycle to ride over to Sandra, my girlfriend. Then, after all of this distance , I crashed into a scooter with two 15 year old girls. Without helmet. But everything was ok, I was good, and the girls as well. The had been driving over to my side of the road, and then they were angry and told me that everything was my fault. I went angry, and I could only hope that some broke down on their scooter. I cycled on to Sandra, with a deformed bike. This was my first long journey with a bike.

A dream that failed

I studied hard at the secondary upper school, and I also trained hard to be a "hunter" in the swedish army. That is like a green beret in the US army. The day I went to the military tests I had been training hard, so I felt strong in my body and my mind. The first test for me was the hearing test, and I was a little bit anxious about this, because I have a little bit of tinnitus in one of my ears, because I've been playing guitar with bands loud, many times without hearing protection. I did the test and thought that I did it well, but I failed. The second highest tone in the left ear, I couldn't hear it. I said that this machine was broken, my hearing is perfect! So I did the test once again in a different machine. I tried to press the button when I heard a sound in the same tempo as before when I didn't hear the tone, but it never worked. I was sad, because they told me I can't do army at all. There are people suing the army because of bad hearing after military service, so they cannot take in people with any hearingproblems.

I was so sad that moment. I have dreamed so much to make it as a hunter, my father talked with me and my brother when I was younger about this. He told us that we would be strong parashout hunters one day when we are in the military. Well, my brother refused to do his service, and I was discarded. That's the story. I went home with the bus and I walked alone in the forest. It's life, I will do something bigger, I will maybe climb MountEverest, put up the flag of the army and piss on it, as a protest. Next day I went to a doctor to check my hearing, he said it was only this very high tone on my left ear, and that I hear like a normal person. Because this tone is very high. He said he could write a paper to the army that my hearing is good and then I don't have to do the test, but I was so dissappointed at the army so I said nevermind that.

This was not the only bad news. In the same times as I was discarded I received a mail from an archeologichal group I went with on a river in Sweden with their viking-boat. It was interesting to row with this ship, and I wanted to participate in the big project. To sail and row from Sweden to Azerbajdzjan. But with all my studies I couldn't care so much for this journey. So when the list of people going with was sent, I never found my name. At this moment I knew that if I wan't to be sure of doing something, and to succeed, I have to do it myself. In that way I have all the power, and I can accomplish anything that doesn't involve other people.

The viking project, http://www.vittfarne.se

Some History

This adventure started the 9 of May 2005. That was the very first day I went with the bike, everything fixed, and it felt good. But the thoughts of making an adventure, and planning it started before this. I was 16 years old, and I got the idea to cycling through Sweden. I don't remember how I got this idea, but I was thinking of it seriosly. My mother said that it was interesting, but maybe dangerous with all traffic. I talked with my uncle, he thought it was cool and said he knew a guy cycling from Sweden to Italy. I thought it's crazy! I'll just cycle through Sweden. After all this journey was never made. I realized that I should know more things before I can go, and I wanted to succeed with this, so I started to read about it on the internet. I read books from the Swedish adventurer Mikael Strandberg, a swede who has cycled long distances, the book from Goran Kropp, a swede who cycled from Sweden to Himalaya where he climbed Mount Everest solo and without oxygen, then he cycled home to Sweden again. I can't forget to mention the book of Ola Skinnarmo when he ski to the southpole solo as the first swedish. Then Goran Kropp and Ola Skinnarmo tried to ski to the North Pole, but only Skinnarmo made it to the Pole, Kropp had to return. Goran Kropp died for a couple of years ago. He was a great adventurer. Reading books like this and collecting more information about making my adventure with the bike gave me more knowledge and inspiration.

Some links :
Mikael Strandberg http://www.strandberg.se
Göran Kropp http://www.nepal-dia.de/Aktuelle_Lage_/ Goran_Kropp/goran_kropp.html
Ola Skinnarmo http://www.skinnarmo.com

First posting

Hello friends I've met during this bicycle journey so far in the world!

Finally I start this blog in english so more people can follow me. I know there will be some faults in the text but nevermind that=)

// Martin

Me and Joshua

Me and Joshua, originally uploaded by lindahl.martin.

After many days of cycling we found a hotel not far from the Mauretanian border. Nice to clean up and wash of the sand that was everywhere. Check out Joushuas blog at http://joshtracker.blogspot.com

Blistering sun

Joshua, originally uploaded by lindahl.martin.

Joshua walking with his bicycle. We had just met Emma before, a cool Irish girl who Joshua met earlier in Morocco. It was a nice moment, she gave us some Red Bull and her driver gave us a soda and a big peace of camel meat. We ate good that night!

Sunset

Sunset, originally uploaded by lindahl.martin.

Joshua Perina took this photo on me after I cleaned four fresh fishes we ate afterwards. A Moroccan soldier had been out fishing, and when he saw us, he shared some fishes. Friendly guy, and nice meal, a bit salty though, hehe.

Footsteps

Footsteps, originally uploaded by lindahl.martin.

Footsteps at the beach in the Sahara. Me and Tony was doing some photographing. It's his shoes, hehe.

Derallieur

Derallieur, originally uploaded by lindahl.martin.

I took a photo on the derallieur of my bike. Tony Eveling is in the background, a english bloke I was cycling with between Tan-Tan and Laayoune in Morocco. Tony really knows how to ride a bike! He cycled from England up to North Cape in Norway, and from there he made his way down to South Cape in South Africa. Check out his homepage, http://www.tonyeveling.com, there are beautiful photos to see.

Rainbow

Soluppgang, originally uploaded by lindahl.martin.

A morning on a field in Morocco after some rain. I'm rapairing a flat tyre.