What was the hardest part of your journey?
The hardest part of my journey was beginning it. The daydreaming, the chatting in pubs, the pouring over books and maps, and the easy fabrication of excuses to procrastinate: all that is great fun. But to finally say, “Right- this is my dream. It’s time for the excuses to stop. It’s time to do it. It’s going to be hard and it’s going to be frightening to begin it.” But how much more frightening is the prospect of not doing it and for my life to be stalked by the gnawing phantoms of regret?

 Dreaming about a four-year life as a wandering hobo is a lovely thing. But to finally decide that I was going to give up the chance to earn huge money in the city, that I was going to give up my friends and my family for years in the pursuit of a very selfish goal: that was hard. Saying adieu to my girlfriend was brutal. I had spent the four happiest years of my life with Sarah. But I had no interest in an office career and Sarah was too sensible to want to cycle the world, and so compromise never seemed possible for either of us. It was inevitable that a crunch time would arrive. While I tried to scrimp and save and plan for my journey and Sarah leaped into the racing currents of the career world we slowly drifted apart without me really realizing. It was only when the moment of goodbye arrived that I realised how huge a part of my life she was and just how deeply I loved her. Crying uncontrollably, I tried to reassure myself that my anguish was a good sign of my commitment to my journey, but that was rubbish. I was throwing away the best days of my life with my best friend for a bloody bike ride. I had never in my life been as lonely as when I watched her drive away for the last time.  

And actually getting on my bike and riding away from my front door was terrifying. I was too daunted to be proud that I had crossed my first border: from being a person dreaming of his big journey to somebody who is actually on his journey.

After that, all this came true (written by W. H. Murray):

“Until one is committed there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way.

I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:
'Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.' "

Having met so many people during your adventure, did you find a common thread that binds us all together?
Talking with people of every race, religion, political view, and wealth level was eye-opening and helped widen my own horizons. From having to make thousands of snap judgements on whom to trust or not to trust, I saw that first impressions can occasionally be misleading, but usually they are not. I was helped by so many strangers, many of whom became friends and inspirations and without whom I would never have succeeded. I will be forever indebted to all those people. I learned to trust people, to relax and to believe in an essential goodness to the human race. Almost everybody in the world treated me well. Nobody ever refused me water. I was only refused permission to camp twice (both occasions were in Europe). Everywhere else in the world I was given at least a safe place to camp and often a bed, shower, and feast. Everybody has hopes and dreams and loves. Everyone laughs at something funny. Don’t believe what you see on the TV: the world really is a good place.

What was the greatest lesson you learned?
There are several things that stand out clear and bright for me now. Simple things, small truths; almost platitudes. But they are things that mean much to me now:

• The world is a good place (see above)
• The hardest journey is “from the warm bed to the cold floor” meaning that getting started is the hard part. Excuses, procrastination, justifying our excuses to ourselves... Apathy and inertia. These are the things that stop us achieving, that smother us in frustration. I cried a lot, I was scared a lot, and I wanted to quit most of the time. If I had known at the start of the journey all that I knew by the end, there is no way I would have dared even to begin. But I’m so very glad I did begin!
• We underestimate our potential. I set myself a challenge that I was sure I would fail. “Only those who risk going too far discover how far they can go.” But I did it! I cycled round the planet! How much further could I go?! How much further can we all go. We might fail, but failing is so much better than not even beginning and being left with regrets.
  

So what's next?
God, I wish I knew!

Before I began I had had several motivations for wanting to attempt to ride round the world. I reflected now on the ride, on how it had differed from my expectations and what it might lead to in my future. I decided to begin as a quest for adventure, to see some of the world and to escape from England and the conveyor belt of my life. I longed to escape from tedious routine (although in fact my life on the road was dominated by repetitive routine). I wanted to challenge myself and to see whether I could follow faintly in the bold footsteps of the great men and women who had gone before me and told mighty tales of adventure in epic books. I wanted to see whether I could do anything remotely similar. There was only one way to find out, and that was by having a go. And I had wanted to do something that I would certainly fail unless I poured everything I had into it. I wanted something difficult. And I got it: this was the hardest thing I had ever done physically, mentally, and emotionally. So what do I do next? I have been home almost 2 years and have not yet found the solution. I feel I cannot really do another big journey because it is bound to be an anticlimax after that. And I don’t feel fulfilled sitting behind a desk…

I am running the Marathon des Sables in March 2008 - a 150 mile run through the Sahara desert. That will be very tough so I’m focusing my energies on that at the moment.

Of course, nobody’s ever cycled to the South Pole so there’s plenty of challenges still awaiting…

Are there any links you'd like to share?
Yes, Hopes and Homes for Children (www.hopeandhomes.org)