Wohlgesonnen: Riding 8,000 Kilometers to Morocco and Back (Video)

I first began planning this trip during my final official bachelor’s semester. Freshly returned from a cycling trip to Sweden, I was obsessed with the idea of seeing even more of the world by bike. Even while working my job as a bike courier, I kept thinking about cycling. Concrete plans had to wait because of the stress of my studies. What was clear, though, was that I had the urge to go far, far away! After some back and forth, I loosely settled on the Atlas Mountains as my destination.

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I started thinking about what I wanted from this journey. I want to be on the move because I want to see a lot! I want to be by myself, and I want to be with people! I want to feel a lot, both the negative and the positive! Suddenly, the moment of departure had come. Amid a turbulent time in life, I set off on my journey. It didn’t take long before I’d left Germany and arrived in France. It wasn’t my first time crossing the French border, but it was the first time doing it by bicycle!

Eating at least two entire baguettes a day and knocking out kilometers became the daily routine for the next stretch of days. When the quality of the baguettes suddenly dropped, I realized that I had crossed yet another border. This time into Spain. The weather grew noticeably warmer, and my excitement rose! Soon I would reach the ferry—after many meters of climbing and plenty of headwind. I spent most of the time following the EuroVelo 8 along the east coast toward Algeciras. I didn’t find the coastal route particularly beautiful, but it didn’t dampen my overall positive impression of Spain. After nearly 3,000 kilometers, I finally reached Algeciras.

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On the ferry to Tanger Med, I met Sia. As we talked during the crossing, we realized we got along well and that at least the beginning of our planned routes would overlap significantly. We rode the first stages together and eventually decided to continue the journey as far as Rabat. On our way to the Atlas, we passed through Tetouan, Chefchaouen, Fès, and some other cities. The ascent into the mountains remains especially vivid in my memory since that’s where I marked my halfway point.

Some 4,000 kilometers later, and there I was, truly in the Atlas Mountains. Even though that emotional moment would have been striking on my own, it was even more wonderful to share it with someone else. Looking back, meeting Sia was easily one of the highlights of my trip. It was beautiful to share wonder, uncertainty, excitement, and the feeling of making progress together.

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After 1,500 kilometers in Morocco, I took the ferry back to Spain. Not wanting to ride the same route back, I decided to make a detour to Portugal. In Portugal, I followed the coast along the EV1 north toward Lisbon. Shortly before reaching the city, I detoured toward Spain again. I enjoyed the Spanish interior much more than the route along the east coast.

When I suddenly found a tasty baguette in my handlebar bag, I realized that I must have arrived back in France. Even though I still felt full of joy and excitement, I noticed a sense of homesickness settling in. Though “homesickness” sounds sad, I would describe it more as a deep appreciation for what makes home truly feel like home. I looked forward to seeing my friends again and drifted through many memories as I rode through France’s beautifully lush summer forests.

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Shortly before my final arrival, I visited close friends in Kaiserslautern. It was indescribably wonderful to hug friends again after such a long time away. Equally great was my joy upon returning to Würzburg. Still in my sweaty cycling clothes, I sat down with friends in one of my favorite pubs and enjoyed everything I’d been looking forward to, sharing everything that had been burning on my mind.