Niokobokk I Cycling & Surfing from France to Senegal

Cycling and surfing along 8,000km of the Atlantic coastline wasn’t part of our original plans. But at a time when global events felt a little overwhelming and deflating, this seemed like a refreshing way to live, to move with intention and to embrace everything around us as we travelled through France, Spain, Portugal, Morocco, The Sahara, Mauritania, Senegal and The Gambia.
With a camera each and a microphone, we attempted to record what moved us: the wisdom of other cultures and customs, traditional music, and life in the desert and along faraway shores. What we discovered was far more energising than we could have ever imagined.

00:00 Searching for surf in Antarctica, Falkland Islands, Chile & Peru
05:17 France, Spain and Portugal
16:33 Surfing Morocco
39:44 Crossing Mauritania
52:17 surfing Senegal

For more surfing travel films and bikepacking films, visit https://www.youtube.com/@UCv35aRlpOpTiQfMCM9Mx5iA

[Music] Happy day. [Music] Fueled by a love for surfing, the ocean, and a deep curiosity about the people who live along its edges, we began to plot out a journey that would take us from our hometown on Australia’s surf coast to the shorelines of the southern Pacific and Atlantic oceans. Our journey began by sailing to Antarctica aboard a 55- ft vessel where we witnessed both the woes and wonders of one of the planet’s most fragile regions. [Music] After a rough crossing of the Drake Passage towards Argentina, we then visited the Falkland Islands. Here we experienced life amidst the forces of the roaring 40s, spending days exploring the expansive and windswept terrain. [Music] We found remote surf breaks and shared waves with dolphins and penguins. This all thanks to the most caring of locals who even introduced us to the joys of sheep farming [Music] in Chile and Peru. We were in awe of the many skilled and welcoming local surfers, and we loved learning about their authentic life by the ocean. [Music] 9,000 km of rural coastline gifted us with some of the best the Pacific Ocean has to offer. [Music] However, this little chapter is about our cycllo surf adventure from France to Sagal. The plan, ride our mountain bikes across France until we reach the Atlantic coast and follow it all the way to Sagal carrying gear to allow us to ride, camp, and surf where possible. The route was approximately 8,200 km, taking us through France, Spain, Portugal, Morocco, the Sahara, Moritania, the Gambia, and Sagal. It was on the 14th of August 2024 that we left Ben’s childhood village near the French Alps with two surfboards in tow and one big question in mind. Should we be afraid of the world and its people like the media leads us to believe. So off we went to find out like all together all together. Riding through central France was a fairy tale introduction to the life of bike packing. The daily temperature hovered around 25° with barely a breeze to cool off our sweat. We built up our riding strength climbing up the many passes and fed our engines with all that we could find in the small boneries along the way. We wild camped in farm fields, preparing our dinners using our surfboard trailer as a table and jumped into our sleeping bags with the fading light. We rode through idyllic villages, stopping to talk to the friendly locals with many a conversation sparked by the odd sight of surfboards tied down to the trailer. Central France is rich in history, culture, and glorious views without a soul in sight. In those first few weeks, I experienced many thoughts and emotions while riding. I miss my family, and I worried about what might happen to us on the trip. Did we have the energy and resilience to make it? Or was safety going to be an issue? But amongst all of that, I felt bursts of happiness and freedom. And I could tell Ben often felt the same. Reaching the coast after 2 weeks felt like all of Europe was waiting for us there. Still, we suited up and enjoyed a refreshing surf session that recharged us and gave us the energy to keep pushing forward. [Music] But then it was rainy, busy, and the surf was flat for weeks on end. Quite the contrary to our utopian dreams of surfing perfect European peaks in the sunshine. In fact, it rained day in day out from Leon, Basque country, Canterria, Aurius, and Glyia in Spain, and then all the way to the middle of Portugal. Most days we would pull into campsites soaked to the bone. We kept checking the weather charts, and whenever a bump in swell showed up, we often realized that we were too far away to make it by bike. But sometimes we were lucky, and these moments were magical. When traveling by bike, good surf becomes a bonus, not a guarantee. It was a mindset that we had to adopt and grow into, and we learned to let go of expectations and appreciate whatever came our way. [Music] Spain certainly delivered its beauty, ruggedness, steep climbs, and weather with great force. There were days when we were gripping the handlebars, knuckles white, hoping we wouldn’t be pushed by the furious gusts of wind into the way of passing cars. And other days we would arrive at a local hostel or some kind of sleeping spot. Our hair plastered to our foreheads, soggy shorts and fingers like prunes. Hand washing and drying our clothes became a little tough, so our gear took on a new sort of tropical smell. [Music] Evil. [Music] Interestingly, we ended up on the Camino Norte, a segment of the Commamino to Santiago for a few hundred km. So off we went to Santiago and celebrated our accidental completion of this mystical pilgrimage. It was quite special to meet people from all over the world, often with remarkable stories and such dedication to their journey. And we enjoyed the fleeting interactions of a little hoola bonamino or hearing surprise voices exclaiming tablet desurf fading into the distance as we whizzed past. [Music] Fore! [Music] Foreign! Foreign! [Music] for [Music] the [Music] [Laughter] [Music] [Laughter] [Music] [Laughter] [Music] God bless [Music] The end of the rain came after 6 weeks and our soggy clothes and wrinkly fingers finally dried out. We celebrated with a magnificent carnival meal in the Portuguese city of Porto. A great idea for us vegetarians in search of all the protein we could sink our teeth into. However, the protein was never absorbed. We both experienced severe food poisoning and left Porto completely empty. 3 days and 200 km later, we had not eaten much more than a few bananas. So, it was time to rest and take a dip in the refreshing ocean. The sun was back, but the surf not quite yet. The dark of the night. [Music] Finally, we were lucky to reach Nazire during a good swell. We surfed it when it was small, and we watched in awe when it was big. Praise [Music] God. [Music] Jesus of the world. [Music] Being on the bike, we are fortunate to be so close to nature. taking in the scent of ripe figs in the air, spotting chestnuts scattered across the ground, and feeling the warm sun on our backs. However, we’re also confronted by the impact we are having on the planet, much more than we would notice from the comfort of a car. Litter on the sides of the road, hard rubbish dumped near remote dirt tracks, and fumes from factories lingering in the air. We would often see new construction sites right next to abandoned buildings as if we live in a world of unlimited resources. Traversing by bike can be a confronting and thought-provoking way to travel. Waiting for the cleans [Music] out on the road. We had plenty of time to reflect and found ourselves talking about how deeply we crave connection with people around us. We realized how much a simple wave, a cheerful beep, or a smile from a passer by could lift our spirits and give us the energy to get through a tough day. Some days though, it was just us. The road and our questionable singing voices, so a few bad jokes and a ridiculous amount of food got us by. [Music] Thankfully, more often than not, we’ve experienced genuine kindness and connections along the way. Surfing a fun wave was a highlight, but perhaps not as much as sharing a meal or swapping stories with people we met on the road. Among the unforgettable souls we’ve met was Serge, an 84y old bike packer who spends his summers cycling and wild camping across Europe, covering up to 5,000 km each season. The day we crossed paths, he had already ridden 100 km by midday. [Music] It’s like being at Aldi. They all too hard. [Music] [Music] Look at that. Morocco, we coming mountains. [Music] After a ferry ride to the African continent, we quickly crossed the Moroccan city of Toner and climbed straight out into the rift mountains. Instead of our original plan to follow the coastline, we headed inland to visit small villages and cities such as Tettoan and Chev. In the cities, we explored the maze-like medas. Every new corner threatening to get us lost amongst the narrow corridors that were lined with vendors selling their wares. Heaped bags of spices, colored dyes, fresh fruit and vegetables, and handmade shoes. [Music] Our journey in Morocco had its ups and downs. Quite literally, the mountains with their steep, unforgiving climbs pushed us to our limits, but offered the most breathtaking views. On one particular day, it took us 8 hours to cover just 30 km. And at one point, a woman on a donkey casually passed me, and I’m sure she was moving no faster than 2 km hour. From the mountains, we headed back to the coast, hoping to find some fun waves to surf and some flatter roads to ride. We mostly found kindness and generosity at every corner and in every form. Sweet mint tea and a delicious taine shared with us by a lovely family. Fruit gifted to us by street merchants. Cartons of mango juice from passing trucks and a hand to fix our bikes. All of these special moments were prefaced by the famous three words lean meaning you are most welcome in our country. Locals made it clear to us in Morocco you don’t need any money. Just knock on anyone’s door and you will be hosted and fed. Being in such an environment where this is the rule and not the exception makes us want to become better versions of ourselves and become less precious with our time, possessions and space. [Music] We recently heard the late Sebastio Salgado share his views on this. He explained that if the measurement of a continent or country’s GDP took into consideration its social attributes, Africa would be considered the richest continent thanks to this admirable sense of community and solidarity. I found gold in puddles in descent on their circles in the purity of song books and I faces [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] Come on. Hey. Hey. [Music] [Applause] Come on. Come on. Come on. whose job he to talk about it. But I almost never found him. [Music] Ammo whose job is to talk about light. [Music] Oh. [Music] Oh. Oh. [Music] Oh. Oh. [Music] Heading [Music] further south, we rode along gravel roads that weaved its way through arid land dotted with prickly argan trees. We visited many rustic fishing villages, the very touristy town of Imswuan and the big seaside city of Agadia, where we filled up on supplies and serviced our bikes. [Music] Some surf spots were chilled and picturesque, and others were frighteningly busy. Once again, we were a little naive and never anticipated such crowds. At times, we almost forgot that we were in Morocco with hundreds of other traveling surfers alongside all the western comforts. This is an example of tourists traveling to a place. And yes, we acknowledge we are part of this, expecting to experience a personal change, but instead end up inflicting change on that area. Ben reflected that we surfers take ourselves too seriously and often don’t share many kind words in the water or even a simple acknowledgement. Like in any environment where humans can be sensitive to others, we often forget that we are all part of the problem. And each of us have a responsibility to make a crowded surf spot more fun. After all, we are just gliding and splashing around in this big, beautiful ocean that we don’t necessarily own. Some do it more gracefully than others, but that’s all it is. [Music] We decided to mix things up again and headed inland through the Anti Atlas, the southernmost mountain range in Morocco. Leaving the coast was actually quite refreshing. [Music] Shukran. Morocco. Shukran. [Music] Hallelujah. [Music] [Music] Visiting the Atlas Mountains was one of the best decisions we had made on the trip. The road slowly but surely weaved and climbed its way up through dramatic mountain ranges and led us into quiet burbear villages to an altitude of around 2,000 m. We saw goats hanging out in the branches of argan trees, visited bustling suits in the towns, and we were even treated to a night of music when the owner of a smaller burge played his 12 string loot for us. [Music] Atlas mountains. How much sh but incredible incredible view. La [Music] [Music] can be [Music] An hour ago, I was absolutely freezing. [Music] Crazy how cold it gets in the what? Night, early morning. And we try to leave early. So, we’re freezing. And then as soon as the sun gets above the mountain ridge, gets a bit warm and I miss the chilly times. Not really. It’s magic. Magic. [Music] Foreign [Music] speech. Foreign speech. Foreign speech. [Music] Yummy. [Music] Yummy. Yummy. [Music] really. [Music] [Music] back on the coast. We spent some time at the town of Near Left. It isn’t exactly pretty or majestic, but there was something about this unlikely town that kept us rooted for 2 weeks. We shared a Christmas dinner with some bike packing buddies, found some uncrowded surf spots, and celebrated the new year with a heartwarming visit from some of Ben’s family before we headed south towards a Sahara desert. We were still apprehensive about the wind, heat, and long roads ahead of us. But we had high hopes to find some empty waves. [Music] That [Music] Ah. [Music] [Music] Ah. [Music] Despite its hostile appearances, the Sahara became one of our favorite segments of the trip. We never imagined that we would one day be riding across its expansive, beautiful, yet harsh landscape and surfing waves below its towering cliffs. Everything around us made us want to be geologists, anthropologists, anthropologists, and even philosophers all at the same time. Everything we saw sparked countless questions about how the nomads and other inhabitants lived and why they were there. about the striking shapes of the dunes and rocks, and about the millions of shells scattered across the ground, even hundreds of kilometers in land. [Music] Our [Music] lives were simpler than ever in the desert, just spinning our wheels and soaking in the surroundings. And all we needed to plan for was water and food. Despite some level of discomfort, we started cycling longer every day. 120 km stretched sometimes to 170 km, often with the wind at our back. It was almost like we were riding on a travelator or our very own magic carpet ride through the Sahara desert. [Music] And we even tried to boost our speed by harnessing the power of the wind and some umbrellas. Whilst the going got tough at times, we also loved every minute of it. A very touching moment was meeting two Senagalles men who had been walking for days along the road, perhaps fleeing their country. We’re just not quite sure. They were exhausted with little water or food and no warm clothes to endure the freezing nights. We shared with them all we could. It was confronting and sad. Despite being in such pain, they still found the energy to care for our well-being, not wanting to take all we had to offer. One man was wearing plastic sandals that were cutting into his feet. And there was a long road ahead if they couldn’t get a lift. Why would one have to tackle such an unsurmountable journey? We hope to find some answers when we reach Sagal. [Music] All right. Hallelujah. [Music] [Applause] [Music] Along the only road through the Sahara, there is a long stretch dotted with checkpoints due to an ongoing and complex conflict between the Sahara and Morocco. But a soldier also explained that many Senagalles desperately attempt to migrate to Europe through here and therefore prevented us from surfing in the area. As a result of the conflict, the rule is to camp only near checkpoints or whenever possible at petrol stations. Surprisingly, we often enjoyed the latter. Despite the smell of fumes, especially when sleeping next to decommissioned pumps, we were immersed in a microcosmos of camel traders, truck drivers, and even bakers who would deliver their bread over long distances. They often gifted us boxes of cookies or drinks, and occasion even shared entire meals with us. These acts of generosity gave us an insight into how faith shapes their daily life and has created a society grounded in mutual care and support. Happy. [Music] [Music] Arriving at a surf spot halfway down the coastline, we stood high on the cliffs beside a sprawling fishing village of dilapidated huts made from offcuts of corrugated iron, wood, and plastic sheets. Looking down at the bay, we were delighted to see waves peeling off the main point. At the shore, every inch of sand was inhabited by fishing boats, fishermen, and tractors that would pull the boats in and out of the water. We were starting to understand that here and along the coast of Africa, local fishermen are genuinely struggling to make a living from a sea depleted of living creatures. Despite this challenge and the fact that we were literally surfing in their way, they waved to us every day, skillfully steered their boats around us, and sat with us during short breaks after spending a day or more at sea. Their gentle and welcoming attitude was a real inspiration and a reminder that we can all share the ocean and be kind to each other. We finished each day sleeping in a little room out the back of a half-built petrol station. And our host, Ahmed, who refused any payment, made us yummy sweet teas and offered to share his camel tine. [Music] It wasn’t always easy out in the desert. We contended with packs of dogs from the Coast Guard huts spotted along the shores. They would launch themselves at us, snarling and barking and running as equally as fast as we could push our legs. At other times, the wind or the road would turn and we would battle brutal headwinds and crosswinds that would threaten to push us over. Our bike suffered a bit, too, with the sand grinding away at our transmission and bearings along with spokes breaking from time to time. Once when we couldn’t fix Ben’s bike, the man trying to help us reminded us with a cheeky smile that Africa isn’t the continent of problems, but the continent of solutions. And we totally agree. Foreign [Music] speech. Foreign speech. Foreign speech. [Music] The last 400 km to the border were hot and even windier, but simply stunning. It was time to cross no man’s land, a strange stretch of land between two borders where neither country claims authority. On the Moroccan side, we met four other bike packers and cross the 4 km stretch far more easily than its reputation suggests with no sign of burntout cars or landmines as we’ve been warned. Finally, we cross the rather hectic border into Mora. [Music] [Music] At one point, we took a detour to seek out a surf spot at the end of a peninsula. A swell was on the way. The intense wind was offshore, and we were hopeful. But the riding was tough. We tackled soft sand and the uncertainty about our navigation made everything a bit intense. Unfortunately, the surf remained tiny. With no regrets, knowing we had given it our best shot, we turned our wheels back toward camp. The relentless Sahara wind forced us to rethink our route. After much deliberation with our new cycling buddies Louis and Lena, we decided on a detour to take the iron or train 400 km east into the desert, then ride 550 km south to the capital Nakshot with the prevailing wind at our back. The iron or train stretches up to 3 km long and hauls iron or across the desert. We knew the train heading inland had empty freight carriages and with all our bikes in gear, we had little option but to ride in one from the port city of Nigu to the inland town of Shu. A surprise meeting with five other bike travelers at the departure point found and we all clambored on and got ready for the most unique night of travel. Cool. [Music] Thank you. [Music] Woohoo! Oh yeah, good. [Music] 12 hours later, we arrived in the small town of Schum. Tired and dusty, but eager to explore the heart of Moritania. [Music] [Music] We moved on and following another long hot and windy day On the road, we arrived in the bustling town of Atar. The bread was the best we’d tasted in ages, and the local, as always, were warm and curious. [Music] From Atar, we took a road that was surrounded by towering mountains towards the Oasis village. of Tit. [Music] Never had we imagined that we would find a peaceful, green, and shady oasis full of date palms, flowing water, and bird life. We decided to settle in for a few days with our friends Louis and Lena and enjoy this rare paradise. [Music] After a refreshing couple of days, we headed further east. The scenery was breathtaking, but once again, the wind and sand made everything a bit chaotic. We could barely hear each other over the roaring wind, but we worked as a team, and it kept our spirits high. Our bikes and legs were growing tired and Ben’s trailer needed some attention. So once again, we decided to take a break for a few days to swim and hike around the nearby ridges and gorgees. [Music] [Laughter] [Music] [Applause] [Music] [Applause] [Music] We snap the piece off. Means we can’t carry the sailboards. [Music] At last, it was time to head south and pushed through a 4-day sprint to Makshot with the motivation of finding a potential surf spot near the port. Crossing such regions and seeing the realities of living in such a harsh environment is humbling and eye opening. It really gave us a deeper appreciation for the challenges people face every day. There is no running water. Nothing grows and there is no sign of civilization nearby. Yet this harsh reality is their normal. One can only admire the resilience and solidarity that allow them to endure in such unforgiving conditions. [Music] We eventually reached the Moritanian capital in Blockshot, hot and bothered and in great need for a shower. But we were instantly mesmerized by the chaos all around us. [Music] Oh no. Oh no. [Music] [Music] We explored the vegetable, camel, and fish markets. and also met some very kind locals, Archie and Ingred. Archie, one of just six surfers in the country, explained they had only found three waves along the 800 km stretch of coastline. We spent a week in Rockshot, hoping and waiting for a swell. And the day it finally arrived, we enjoyed some fun small waves. [Music] The relentless heat, the smell of an abandoned fish mill plant and swarms of flies didn’t actually matter as we were back in the ocean, and it felt amazing. [Music] And to top it all off, Archie pitched a traditional Haima tent and treated us to a five-star picnic right by the break. [Music] Oh boy. [Music] Eventually, we left the capital behind and embarked on the final 280 km of desert to reach the Seneagalles border. We were hit with a dust storm and the strong gusts of wind pushed Ben off the road several times and he even developed heat stroke after two long days in the saddle. But even more memorable was the sudden end of the Sahara as we approached the Seneagal River. It transformed over a distance of less than 5 km. Suddenly we were surrounded by wildlife, vibrant colors, and humid heavy air. A striking contrast to the last 1,800 km. This was the start of West Africa and we loved it. [Music] Arriving in the Seneagalles city of St. Louis, everything we had learned about illegal migration through the Sahara started to make sense. Local fishermen told us that they’ve had to resort to raising sheep on the sandy streets of their homes to supplement their dwindling income. This type of traditional fishing no longer sustains them. A consequence of industrial fishing and over fishing by illegal foreign fleets. It’s an environmental disaster with devastating humanitarian consequences. We have since discovered that these illegal industrial fleets from Europe and Asia dragged massive weighted nets across the seafloor, destroying everything in their path. Now 57% of Seneagal’s fish population is in a state of collapse. These fleets are only after a handful of species, but catch everything in their way, only to discard the majority afterwards. Most of the catch is destined for the mass retail market in Europe and Asia. As a result, these arteisal fishermen have seen their livelihoods vanish, and coastal communities face deepening poverty and rising hunger. In the face of this crisis, they have little choice but to risk their lives on deadly migration routes to Europe. Many choose the 2,000 km route that takes them to the Canary Islands, the Spanish archipelago. The crossing attempts take 12 to 15 days in open seas with many running out of water, food, and sometimes fuel. In 2023, 3,000 Seneagalles lost their lives while attempting their journey. The same European countries that are destroying the sea and the livelihoods of local populations are often the ones criminalizing those who reach their shores. Throughout our travels, we see a repeating pattern. What we consume at home in the Western world has such a drastic impact on marginalized communities across the globe. Their livelihoods, their traditional ways of living, and their natural environment are all victims of our neverending quest for comfort, possessions, and our so-called technological progress. [Music] Originally, our plan was to finish our travels in the capital, Dakar, and celebrate with a few weeks of surfing. But the surf forecast was less than promising, and we weren’t quite ready to bring our journey to an end. We’d also heard about a long wave 500 km south near the Guinea Bisau border. Surely, we could find the energy to make it. So on we pushed, exploring the Si Saloon region, island hopping by Perog, and riding our bikes through the quaint fishing villages. [Music] Since arriving in Africa, many of our conversations have centered around religion. Traveling through predominantly Muslim countries, we often wondered how other faiths coexist within these communities. In Seneagal, the answer was both powerful and clear. They call it Boachok. This means we are together in Wolof, the country’s most widely spoken language. The first person we met in Sineagal was a man named Isa. With passion, he explained that Sagal welcomes all nationalities and religions and treats all with equal respect. To illustrate this, he told us that Sagal means our vote. Every year, this spirit of unity is celebrated with a boat race where teams are formed from both Christian and Muslim communities. We strive for peace and unity on board, he said. Because if the boat tips, everyone sinks and nobody wins. Further south, we visited a cemetery where Muslims, Christians, and animists are buried side by side. The locals were deeply proud to share this life philosophy with us. A belief in harmony, mutual respect, and shared humanity. [Music] I know chicken. [Music] Are you know [Music] [Applause] [Music] Bulgaria? [Music] Sineagal is one of the few countries in the world that nearly surrounds another, the small English-speaking nation of the Gambia. Our plan was to cross this narrow enclave in just two days of cycling. We boarded a boat from a tiny Seneagalles island and reached the sandy shores of the Gambia’s capital called Banjo just 4 hours later. [Music] [Applause] Audio. [Music] Upon disembarking, we were met with confusion as there was no sign of an immigration checkpoint and therefore no chance to get the compulsory entry stamp. Fortunately, a local commander took us under his wing. Not only did he invite us for lunch, but he also advised us to make a swift journey through the Gambia and exit via a remote border post. After 2 days of riding through this beautiful country, we arrived at the southern border, ready to cross back over to Seneagal. However, we were not in luck. The border officer was a little bewildered when he saw that our passports lacked entry stamps. What followed were several hours of tense negotiations, including a sit-down picnic protest outside his hut. Eventually, he accepted our final counter offer, and we were cleared to continue into Sagal’s chasm region. [Music] [Music] [Applause] Foreign [Music] speech. Foreign speech. Foreign speech. One dark [Music] Is it [Music] more? [Music] Yeah, that’s good. The final four weeks of our 8-month journey couldn’t have been better. Although, we did have to say goodbye to Lily and Leonard. From complete strangers, we became close friends, making it hard to part ways after sharing such unique moments together. We cycled through landscapes straight out of the Lion King. And with shorter riding days, we slowed down our pace to circle a ring. Eventually, we reached the surf spot and settled into a small hut for a few weeks. There we were surrounded by lively and welcoming locals, plus a few fellow tubs, the local term for light travelers. surfing daily in mellow conditions with a crew of locals and tubabs. We shared boards, shakers, stories and laughter. We taught our new friend Lamemin how to surf and his rapid progress amazed us. In exchange, he shared his wisdom about the spirit of African and Muslim solidarity, that generosity is a way of life. [Music] [Music] The end of Ramadan, celebrated by both the local Muslims and Christians in the village, brought one of the most heartwarming events we experienced. We sat shoulderto-shoulder with Lamin’s family, listening to their values guided by the Quran, and ate a delicious meal together. [Music] Despite our atheist ways, one week we’re invited to sing in the local Christian choir. Given it was in their local dialect, Ben decided to sit out and took great pleasure in laughing at my minor. [Music] [Music] The next week we were fortunate to witness a lamb event, the country’s beloved sport of wrestling. Different villages came together and competed with fierce pride. [Music] Hey dad. [Music] What happened? [Applause] [Music] Time flew and Soon enough, it was time to slowly make our way back to France, traveling over land by hitchhiking and taking buses, bush taxis, canoes, and fairies. [Music] Looking back, we’ve come to realize that cycling gave us the perfect pace to connect with people, with nature, and with the rhythm of life around us. Even when the waves didn’t show up, the journey itself was enriching and entertaining. Our concept of time and distance shifted completely and for the better. What once felt far and impossible was simply a matter of enjoyable days in the saddle. Certainly living on a bike with surfboards in tow requires sacrificing some comfort. But the everyday kindness, the empty waves, and the near constant excitement for what’s around the next corner is truly exceptional. There isn’t one day that doesn’t offer a memorable moment, an intense feeling of war. To us, it felt different to traditional tourism where it often feels like a fleeting experience. It isn’t quite like immigrating to a foreign country, but it does immerse you to an extent. [Music] We finally have our answer. Throughout our journey, we observed the colossal contrast between life around us and the world news. Genocide, wealthy countries cutting billions from humanitarian aid, territorial wars, and countries treating themselves like businesses, and their neighboring countries like competitors. It feels to us that these events are often driven by just a few people who fail to recognize that the vast majority of human beings simply want to live peacefully, wishing only the best for others and without any hidden agenda or desire to dominate. [Music] This stark contrast got us thinking in a very simplistic and childish way. How wonderful would it be if a prerequisite to becoming a world leader required spending time meandering slowly through the world as a humble observer without a windscreen to hide behind. to wander through foreign countries, remote villages, and chaotic cities, fully exposed to every smile, scent, noise, and struggle of our beautifully messy planet. Maybe then they’d better understand that we’re all in the same boat and that it’s far better to be surrounded by healthy, happy neighbors than to seek control over them or live in fear of them. So as a final note, this is just our way of sharing our positive experience with whomever is interested because sometimes the world can seem evil, but in reality the planet and its people are truly extraordinary. That we are sure of. Don’t judge anyone’s about this is white, this is black. No, don’t judge. All is the same. You have to be together to smile together have to everyone to beautiful heart. Even you not help him have make give him beautiful nice face to smile together is good for the society. When I get up I open my eyes I look well can make happy. can uh tell God thank you God because that is not easy for everyone that is more than you make million you know feel better but people here I see black in society here people don’t make lot of money but it helping lot of people outside [Music] like all together all together then you not make money you don’t have beautiful house beautiful car in your life you say I’m not make a good life it’s not like that make beautiful heart because when your heart is is open for everyone is clean you don’t think about anyone for about bad things you make good life you have money you give him. Yeah. Something you take, you give somebody is all together. Yeah. That’s is for everyone. [Music]