August 26-28, 2025 — Begin Again, Day 34-36. Husum to Meppen, Germany
The morning begins quietly in Husum,
at a small campground only a few meters from the sea.
On my mind is familiarity —
that powerful and reassuring force
that makes everything feel okay.
For five years I lived in Hamburg,
and on many occasions I rode my bicycle to Glückstadt,
where the ferry carries travelers
across the Elbe to the south bank.
On this long journey,
I’ll reach Glückstadt again —
but from the north instead of the east.
It will be the first time I’ve arrived that way.
And yet, even here in Husum,
before I’ve seen the river,
the landscape already feels familiar.
What is it about familiarity
that brings such calm to the human mind?
I imagine other creatures feel it too —
a seabird returning to its nesting ground,
a marmot curling into the same burrow at night.
Each finds comfort in the known,
in the shapes and scents that promise safety.
For us it’s the same,
and it feels like the embrace
of someone we love
after too much time apart.
Familiarity is a gift.
It steadies the mind,
softens the pace of the heart,
and reminds us that we belong somewhere.
So today I’ll ride toward the Elbe,
to stand again in Glückstadt,
to cross on a ferry I already know,
and to see that familiar horizon
as the boat docks on the opposite bank.
Because on a journey as long as this one,
familiarity isn’t bound by time or distance.
It simply exists —
and when it arrives,
it feels like home.
[Music] [Music] My morning began quietly in hustle at a small campground only a few meters from the North Sea. On my mind was familiarity, that powerful and reassuring force that makes everything feel okay. For 5 years, I lived on and off again in Hamburgg, Germany. And on many occasions, I rode my bicycle to nearby Glickstat, where a ferry carries travelers across the Elba to the South Bank. On this long journey, I’ll reach Glitchstad again, but from the north instead of the east. It will be the first time I’ve arrived that way. And yet, even before I departed Hustam, before I’d seen the Elba, the landscape already felt familiar. What is it about familiarity that brings such calm to the human mind? I imagine other creatures feel it, too. A seabird returning to its nesting ground, a marmet curling into the same borrow at night. Each finds comfort in the known, in the shapes and scents that promise safety. For us, it’s the same. And it feels like the embrace of someone we love after too much time spent apart. Familiarity is a gift. It steadies the mind, softens the pace of the heart, and reminds us that we belong somewhere. So today I’ll ride toward the Elma to stand again in Gstadat to cross on a ferry I already know and to see that familiar horizon as the boat docks on the opposite bank. Because on a journey as long as this one, familiarity isn’t bound by time or distance. It simply exists. And when it arrives, it feels like home. [Applause] [Music] Heat. Heat. [Music] Heat. [Music] Heat. [Music] Heat. [Music] Heat. [Music] Heat. Heat. [Music] [Music] [Applause] [Music]