• Hera

Pedal and the Banff Mountain Film Festival

After three ‘turbulent’ flights I arrived in Calgary in (two) pieces. Stan, who follows my blog, picked me up from the airport. This Polish man opened his home to me and before I put down my head we had a (typical Polish) lovely light meal of bread and butter, different cheeses, meat and pickles. The next morning I left for Banff.

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As if I never left

It has only been two weeks since I got on my new bicycle in Tilburg to head south. First into Belgium, then France, England and Wales. Now I’ve arrived to Fishguard, my last stop before getting on the ferry to Ireland.

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Looking back now...

It’s been four weeks now since I landed in the Netherlands. Yesterday I did my first presentation about the ride from Alaska to Costa Rica. Now it’s time to also write about how, looking back at it, I’ve experienced this trip. But I also want to explain some practical stuff about it and what the financial picture look like.

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To become a real cyclist

It feels like I’m cycling in Central Asia. The landscape is wide and wavy with brown and green tones and a lake here and there. I’m in Connemara. From Killarney I headed north.

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Hera in Op Pad: zingend over de Pamir Highway

"Hera van Willick ruilde huis en haard voor de fiets en noemt zichzelf nomade. Iemand die onderweg wil zijn." In Op Pad Magazine vertelt Hera uitgebreid over haar drijfveren en wat zo leuk is aan reizen op de fiets.

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Filming in Costa Rica and why I flew home

On the sofa, in the living room of my mum’s house in Tilburg, with the Tour the France on TV in the background, it’s hard to imagine that two weeks ago I was riding my bike in Honduras.
But I was.

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Céad Míle Fáilte

I arrive in Ireland by ferry in the late afternoon. My only plan for the day is to get away from Rosslare city and harbor and find a place to pitch my tent. In England people told me the wild camping would get easier getting to Wales and even more so in Ireland, but I’m surrounded by farmland without a farm in sight.

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I came, saw.. and took off again..

2 months in the Netherlands after 13 months living as a nomad. What’s that like? First of all, it’s great to talk my native language again. No matter how fluent my English is, it’s still different to express myself in the language I grew up speaking.

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The infamous Northern triangle and a visit of a TV crew

Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras. Countries that would let many father- and mother heart shake with anxiety at the thought of their child traveling through ’em. Countries that are famous for their high murder rate, their drugs trafficking and gangs. The hearts of my parents shook too when I told them I would ride my bicycle through those countries. And they still do..

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