Last night was my final evening with my cousin.
We arrived at the campsite fairly early and could have hoped to enjoy one last good moment together. Unfortunately, our pitch had almost no shade at all. With the heat, it was barely bearable. The ground was also covered in thistles, which meant we couldn’t even sit comfortably on the grass.
Planning the next part of my route was complicated, and I had to spend several hours working on it. I was so exhausted from the heat and fatigue that I felt dizzy several times.
So this last evening didn’t really turn out the way I would have liked to spend it with her.
But above all, it made me realise just how important she had been to me during those first fifteen days.
Her presence was essential from a technical point of view. When the sprocket on my hub broke, she was the one who took her bike and went from shop to shop looking for parts, tools and solutions. Without her, I would have had to make all those trips on foot or by hitchhiking.
That incident brought us to a standstill for three days. Without her help, it would probably have lasted a week, perhaps even longer, not to mention all the additional stress it would have caused.
But her role went far beyond that practical help.
She took an enormous amount of mental load off my shoulders. She made sure I was eating properly. She helped me with laundry, shopping and all those little everyday tasks that may seem insignificant but become incredibly difficult when you are physically and emotionally exhausted.
She knew that the beginning of this journey could be difficult for me. And it was.
She even organised a surprise visit from my brother, his wife and my nephews. Seeing them again completely recharged my batteries. She also regularly found little ways to make me happy: board games, moments spent together and, above all, lots of laughter.
I knew the project I was embarking on would be extremely difficult. But I thought the real challenges would come later.
I didn’t expect to face so many of them during the first fifteen days. And I’m going to be completely honest: if my cousin hadn’t been there, the chances of me giving up would have been much higher.
People often say that failure makes us stronger.
Today, I genuinely feel more confident when it comes to the mechanics of my bike. I understand my hub and my brakes better. These are things that have always frightened me and that I had a real mental block about for a long time.
And yet, when I was a child, I loved going with my father when he worked on cars or changed the oil. As I grew older, I drifted away from that world, to the point where I almost completely rejected anything to do with mechanics.
This breakdown forced me to get my hands dirty. It forced me to take things apart, understand how they worked, search for solutions and make repairs. I’m not claiming that I became a mechanic in three days, but I now know that if another problem happens, I’ll be less afraid to face it.
So yes, this failure taught me new skills and gave me a little more peace of mind. But at the time, without my cousin, I honestly don’t know how I would have managed.
In my previous article, I said that my cousin was a bit like my “cheat code” for the beginning of this journey. I don’t think I fully realised at the time just how accurate that expression was.
From now on, I’ll have to continue without her. I’ll have to deal with the unexpected, getting around, meals, laundry, route planning, repairs, exhaustion and moments of doubt all by myself.
Her departure therefore marks the true beginning of my solo adventure.
So, dear cousin, if you happen to come across this and read these few lines, know that I am incredibly happy to have shared the beginning of this journey with you.
Thank you for every kilometre we travelled together. Thank you for every errand, every favour and every solution you found. Thank you for the surprises, the games, the laughter and all those moments when you helped me keep going without necessarily even realising it.
I am deeply grateful for everything you have done for me.
I love you so much.