It’s fascinating how fast things – no matter how crazy they first might seem – become the new normal. Living in deserts for weeks on end. Conforming to religious dress codes. Never speaking your own language(s). Or even the whole concept of being a human snail, slowly moving along with your house and life packed up in the back.

Same goes in the mountains. I’m always astonished when I get up there, with mouth hanging open and eyes about to pop out from their sockets. When I first reach those truly magical landscapes I’m incapable of doing pretty much anything. Riding just seems stupid, as it would only take me out of the piece of art I’m. Pulling out the camera makes more sense. Or at least getting off the bike to find a comfy spot from which to enjoy the scenery.

Though most times I tend to end up doing neither. I just stand there. Bike still between my legs and without a thought in my head. Without the feeling of being the luckiest girl in the world. Often times without even really registering what I actually have in front of me. All that does come later, but first off is always me going though some kind of beauty-blackout before my mind gets back its balance.

That first love feeling is obviously incredible. But there really is something special with what comes after it. When the magic you’re in becomes your new natural state of things. Being able to take it all for granted might be the wrong way to put it, but at least reaching the point of truly being one with what’s around you.

To realise you’ve let go of the feeling of being presented with a temporary painting that could disappear forever as soon as you take your eyes off it. And instead become part of that same painting. Zipping up your tent in peace at night, knowing that the every part of what’s outside it will still be there waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

As I’m writing I do realise that this gibberish is not all that different from how people tend to describe their no longer new relationships. So. I guess some cynics are now shaking their heads in a sigh, and perhaps a few romantics are smilingly nodding theirs. Anyways, I’m sure at least a few of you can relate in one way or another.

Days on the plateau were dreamlike. And most of the time quite similar. At least one + 4 500 meter mountain pass a day sounds like hard work, but it rarely was. I don’t think I ever dropped below 4 000 meters, so going up again never became such a biggie.

Though of course I was slowed down when there was a bit too much snow on the road. And the oxygen (or lack of it) on those really high passes did make my heart beat for more reasons than being excited about the views.


4 797 meter ASL. Will be a while before I get the chance to break this record.

This complete ride took place outside the border of geographical Tibet. Though life in western Qinghai & Sichuan are just as Tibetan as it gets. People, food, history, culture, religion, language… Tibet. The prayer flags that greeted me on top of every single mountain pass being a small but really nice detail of it all.

Rolling through the small Tibetan mountain villages is always a great mood lifter. I haven’t been falling so hopelessly in love with a people since Uzbekistan, and here I felt more at home than I have in a long time. Sure, I was just as much of a rolling circus as always, and my bike could might as well have been a spaceship. But that didn’t stop anyone from welcoming me like their long lost daughter, sister, friend or grand daughter.


Everyone has those sleeves. And I am SO jealous!

I couldn’t post this one without mentioning the yaks. For quite a while there, I felt like I spent just as much time with them as I did with people. Daytime I was hanging out with them…

…And in the evenings I was mostly eating them. Classic dinner with the nomads was just having a bucket with big pieces of meat go around in the tent. Usually served with the least sharp knives you can imagine, making the whole thing a complete caveman event.

Another thing that definitely takes some getting used to is the yak tea. A salty hot drink that is typically improved (?) by a rich add on of yak butter.


Still not my favourite…


…but I must say it did give me good energy for those mountain roads

Receiving big smiles and a hearty ‘Tashi delek!’ as I’m coming through villages is always making me smile. But as usual, there is nothing quite like getting invited for an actual peek inside peoples’ homes and lives. As English wasn’t even to think of, these evenings were often more exhausting than the day of cycling leading up to them. Didn’t make them any less wonderful though. People are simply amazing.


Another Dad of the day


Yak on the menu!


The little ones tested out my tent…


…but decided they preferred their own bed

Sometimes I get the feeling of having ended up on a different planet from the one I thought I was on. So much is going on right now. News and people I talk to at home paint a picture of a world going up in flames. One of bottomless misery. And I’ve never had a more difficult time to relate.

There is chaos and a darkness beyond belief, there is no denying that. But there is also love, light and good. Everywhere. In the most remote corners of the world. There is people who seemingly have nothing, who without as much as blinking an eye will give a complete stranger everything. I don’t need anyone to lift a finger for me. But people do. They carry the world for me, for no apparent reason. And they do it in a way that make it difficult so for me to understand how in the world this wouldn’t also work the other way around.

I’m the girl who needs nothing, but still receives it all from people who, with our standards, don’t have squat to give. Then I open the news apps. To read about how us lottery winners with all the wealth in the world deny less lucky people sheer survival. Then I close them. And roll straight into the open arms of another Tibetan grandmother who’ve decided to make me family before even knowing my name. The absurdity is just beyond.

I really don’t have anything well articulated to say about this. Especially not in English. But fact is, that the world I am in right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. And being inside this bubble of unconditional goodness, I just can’t see anything else than that in the end – all will be good. It has to be.

Sure. No matter how much we’d like it, none of us have the power to save the world. But I’m absolutely convinced that all of us have the means to save someone’s world. There is statistics. Those will remain the same, regardless of what you and I decide to do. But then there are the people behind them, each one with their own story. And I like to take comfort in the fact that for each one of us deciding to simply pull our weight, a few more of them can be turned into good ones.

A few more of them will get a truly happy ending.

Because everyone deserves that.

The ActionAid fundraiser is always up and running. And there is always people in desperate need of our help. However big or small your donations are, I am so endlessly greatful to all of you who’re pitching in and making this project what it is.

Here’s yet another link to the fundraiser.

All the best,

Fredrika