Taking Stock: 306 Days On The Road

“Don’t Cry. Don’t Cry,” I kept telling myself as the lump in my throat rose higher and my heart bounced. Not wanting to raise the immigration lady’s suspicion for any other reason than having made it.

Maaade it! To our destination by land. After 306 days on the road, we arrived in Hong Kong, the place where I grew up. As we walked the last 20 minutes under the highway towards the border between Shenzhen and Hong Kong, I tugged at my backpack straps, shifting the weight, ready for the race to the finish line. Then the tears came. I cannot pinpoint the emotion for you. As I handed over my documents to the hand behind the immigration counter, my breath quickened, my tired spine stood straight, electrified. All the energy in my body rushed to the front, filling my ears, pushing the shoulders, twisting the gut then bubbling up to my eyes.

Somehow they wave me through and I’m in.

The familiar border that I have crossed many times, the first one I recognise on our journey to the east and the first time I have goosebumps; most likely from the over-enthusiastic air-conditioning that Hong Kong seems to love. We shuffle into the MTR, Hong Kong’s neat and clean subway system, everyone in order, quietly boarding, efficient with no sign of elbow shoving. Shots of Tai Po’s remaining agricultural fields fly by the windows, sky-high residential neighbourhoods of Yuen Long prepare you for the tall buildings that define Hong Kong’s skyline and soon the carriage is dark, underground tunnels bringing us across the harbour to the island of Hong Kong.

How did we get to a place so familiar to me, so ingrained in my subconscious yet so far away from the life we left behind in Brussels almost a year ago? 306 days of moving slowly but steadily brought us from Home to Home. A journey that could have been accomplished with a single plane ticket and a bit more than 12 hours to spare. But no, we wanted to see cultures and faces evolve from West to East. To taste the flavours and colours of what lies between Europe and Asia. And we did. By roads and paths and water bodies, over 20 000 km through the coast of Eastern Europe, the islands of Greece, the mountains of Turkey, the monuments of Iran, the deserts and plateaus of Central Asia, the peaks of China, the rivers and jungles of South East Asia…we survived and we learned.

Most of all we laughed, we smiled, we enjoyed. We listened and looked. Our eyes challenged to a new way of seeing, our ears to a new way of hearing. Very rarely, we almost cried. Cried from the joy of reaching the top of a mountain pass or the pain of having to down a bowl of foul-smelling lamb broth. Over flying tires and broken down cars or from a 42 degree food-poisoning induced fever.

For 306 days we were allowed to be selfish. Free from immediate responsibilities, whether professional or personal. We could chose what we wanted to do almost every single day, when to move on, when to stay. We had the time to become children again, our minds free to indulge in turbo-charged levels of curiosity, constantly asking, “why? why? why?” Trying to understand the world all over again. Long-term travel keeps you alert, awake.

We are quicker at picking up details, slower to judge, incredibly fast at packing.

We are more patient with the world, more patient with each other. Not to say we still don’t occasionally blow a fuse when the external hard drive with all our photos decides to die though. That kind of zen will probably elude us no matter how many miles we walk or hours we meditate.

There were days, when we were physically exhausted, semi-broken from night buses and bumpy train rides, but we have our whole lives to sleep. And it was all worth it.

More than worth it, it has been unforgettable.

So what else have we learnt since our last 200 Days on the Road? 

#1 THIS is still our life and will always be

This is the way we want to live. Not necessarily moving all the time, changing beds every night, but approaching the world with a different attitude. To take risks, to look for the unknown, to be open to following the unexpected; to take the suggestions that life throws our way and go with it. After the challenge of a long land journey, we are now back in airports, heading to surf in the Philippines, road trip and hike in New Zealand and who-knows-what in New Caledonia. The last 100 days flew by faster and faster as we knew we were getting closer to Hong Kong, but also because it felt so incredibly normal. Normal to change places every few days, to switch languages and the currency in our pockets, to make new friends. This journey has shown us the high adaptability of humans. Be it the ability of a local population to adapt to desert heat, barren lands and flood plains; as well as our own capacity to adapt to constant change. To live without the things we thought were essential to our happiness, to acquire instead new habits and new appreciation for Freedom and Independence.

#2 Opening Up, trusting and smiling will always reward you

As children we are quicker to smile, uninhibited by social norms and fear. As babies, we receive an overdose of smiles from others, ooggles and doodles and all. To elicit a baby’s laugh seems to be one of the simple pleasures in life, a moment of easy success and pure joy. A universal language. As we age, we forget. We forget to smile, we avoid eye contact, we no longer trust. But most adults have not forgotten the reflexes from our childhood – a smile for a smile. Economics 101, demand and supply, however you want to see it; an offer to open up, a show of curiosity, a gesture of faith will almost always lead to an invitation to engage. And engage we did. We are incredibly grateful to all the people who have opened their homes and kitchens to us, treated us like family, fed us and let us into their life. Or simply all the people who waved and smiled at us, strangers welcoming strangers. Forget your fears and smile. And go practice your wave.

#3 Um, we will never like rats

Yeah. Never ever. Ever ever ever.

#4 The importance of developing a routine

Feeling uprooted has been liberating, but we have also realised what provides us with an anchor everywhere we go –  routine. A sense of home is just as much tied to the place you live in as what you do there. A feeling created by familiarity, repetition, recognition. Not a nine-to-five type of routine, but little rituals that are repeated throughout a stay in a town. Whether it is going to the same bubble tea place every day in Yangon for a milky sugar hit, loading up on carbs and fat at the same french bakery in Vientiane or buying chewing gum from the same corner shop in Hanoi; it is a way of establishing a relationship and feeling like a “regular”. Even if it is only for two days or five or more, it is an easy way to build a feeling of being in your local ‘hood.

#5 We have never eaten so many eggs in our life

It’s not breakfast if there isn’t an egg in it. This seems to be the mantra of hostels and homestays and hotels around the world. A breakfast without protein is not worthy of the name. The humble egg seems to be the sole interpretation of this rule though, sometimes the only choice, often almost deep-fried and swimming in oil. Not ones to refuse apparently harmless free food, we’ve wolfed them all down, though we should probably check our cholesterol levels at some point.

#6 We have developed an addiction to markets…

Oh for the love of the market. Usually it’s the first place we sniff out when we arrive in a new area. Markets are a feast for the eyes, the nose, the mouth. They are the perfect incarnation of a traveller’s energy drink, providing a boost and inspiration no matter how tired you are. They are a reflection of daily life in a country, the no-frills introduction to what the rules are, what the beliefs are, what the addictions are and who the boss is. Some are pretty, some are gruesome, some are noisy, some are quiet, but we always come out with a smile on our face and of course an assortment of food in our arms.

#7 …and maybe the internet?

When we were working in our previous jobs, using the internet was part of our daily lives, something we did not really question.  You end up using it all day everyday, emails in the office, emails in bed, Spotify in the shower, Facebook on the bus. If sitting in front of a computer for most of your day is part of your job description, it excuses us from wondering if we are addicted at all. When you are presented with the choice of connecting, it becomes tough, because you realise you would choose to be connected all the time. Not having access or choice occasionally was a relief. To disappear from the world and focus only on what was before you, without distractions, before racing to connect the next time it was available, the addict never far from their drug of choice.

#8 Different, Different, but Same

Anyone who has been to South East Asia (especially Thailand) will be familiar with the phrase “Same, Same, but Different”. Usually used by vendors trying to sell something modified but which looks like the real deal, such as a fake bag or fake booze. It has now become so popular a term, even bars are named after the infamous line and t-shirts emblazoned with the words sell like hot cakes as souvenirs. Borrowing this concept, what we have learnt on this journey is the opposite, that our world is Different, Different, but inherently the Same. Different religions, different traditions, different appearances, different diets, but at our core we all want the same things. We are all searching for the same emotions, we all share the same values. Deep down we are all more similar than we think.

#9 We now know what we like

We have learnt to find the “uninteresting” interesting. Small medium-sized towns with supposedly nothing to see? That is for us. A city we know well and have visited a hundred times? That is for us. A chance to find stories in the ordinary, in a place that is simply living. It may not have shiny old monuments or exotic wildlife, but it has what we are looking for, stories to feed our mind. On the road, the places we fell in love with the most are the ones that creeped up on us and that we pretty much had to ourselves. The ones forgotten by the masses or neglected by the guidebooks. We will never be bored again, because we are always travelling in our minds, whether to far-flung places or even in our own backyard, we are open to discovering the new and the old.

#10 Out of sight, out of mind

At home (Europe for us the past few years) it is easier to ignore some serious issues, that which is out of sight, is out of mind. Accumulation of waste, poverty, gender inequalities, pollution, externalities of energy production, the impacts of climate change…the list goes on. It is not that they are not present, but they are less evident, at times easier to hide and put aside. In many of the countries we have passed recently, these issues are thrown in your face, impossible to neglect. Travelling to places out of your comfort zone, exposes some of the problems our planet is fighting every day first hand. It reminds us of the production methods that the developed world has outsourced and forces us to think of where our things come from, where they go afterwards and what we need to change before it is too late.

#11 Nico’s new favourite phrase:

There is so much action! (in his french accent) Usually at a busy market or town centre, but actually mostly everywhere nowadays.

#12 Tourism spoils tourism

Tourism can be good. It can bring new local jobs, provide the incentive for much needed development or protect an area from further destruction, but it often spoils tourism itself. At least for us. Arriving in South East Asia after being used to venturing mostly alone in remote and less popular locations, was like being slapped in the face with backpackers’ frenzy. Suddenly we were exposed to sunset viewpoints with hundreds of other people and their cameras, occasionally with menacing selfie sticks floating about.  Street vendors started poking and shouting, “You! You! Buy! Buy!”

Luckily, there is always a way to escape. Even in the most hyped-up tourist spot, there is a way to find your own space, to find people who don’t only see you as a walking dollar sign and often it is only a couple of streets or a bike ride away. Move away from the hotspot, don’t bother climbing up to that recommended viewpoint, ignore the Lonely Planet except in emergencies and follow your gut.

What you need to find that perfect spot is instinct and conviction. Believe in yourself and have confidence that hopefully, no one else is headed in the same direction.

Thank you for all the support we have received since the last 200 days on the road. For all the kind comments and for proving to us that our moms are not the only ones out there (see point – #11 in 200 days). We are touched.