Cape to Kapp: Prejudices Everywhere (Kindness Too)

Teresie Hommersand's recently wrapped here Cape to Kapp, finishing her ride at the North Cape in Norway. Four years in the saddle, across 25,000 kilometers, through 26 countries. Distance and time are just two of the measures of a journey. Maybe the most memorable parts of any journey are the people you meet along the way and Teresie has made so many friends and have had to rely on the kindness of many many strangers to help her through it. So much welcoming and blessing. Yet she has also observed how often people have negative opinions of people in neighboring countries and cultures. (All photos copyright Teresie Homersand)


On this extended journey, I've gained experiences and developed perspectives that I'm sure I otherwise could not get. That's how unique traveling by bike is.

One of the recurring experiences is I've am often been warned by the locals in the country I am in about the country I am about to go to. 

"Oooooo, you have to be so careful. The people there are not good."
"Something bad can easily happen."
"Sudan!? Ai, ai ai!"
"Turkey? Oh my. You know what happened to this tourist when she was hitchhiking alone through Turkey? She was raped and killed!'


The last person I met before crossing the border to Albania, a Greek man who offered me water, told me nothing new: 'They'll steal all your stuff!'. 

"Crazy lady!!! There are a lot of seriously dangerous things in Afrique!"

As I've reached further and further north, the warnings and comments have been less about my safety, and more about that the people in the neighbouring country being not that nice. Not that friendly. 

"Good luck knocking on someone's door in Austria!"

"I doubt you'll find much warmth in Germany."




Needless to say, I have been welcomed and found warmth EVERYWHERE. 

In every country, in every culture, in every religion. 

By 90 year old Austrian grandmother's (treating me to their family wine and perfected apfelstrudel). 

By Muslim families (who during Ramadan gave me food although they were fasting and without me asking or fishing for it in any way). 

By Maasais in Kenya (that invited me to join them and the village in celebrating a boy and girl's graduation and circumcision). 

By Beduins in Egypt (sitting together, sharing a meal on a large straw mat under the stars in the desert). 

By families in Albania (where the kids were teaching me Albanian and the adults insisting on me sleeping inside instead of camping outside). 

By Ethiopian mothers (handing me freshly baked bread to take with me on the journey forward). 

By Sudanese men (thanking me for coming to Sudan to see want it's actually like). 

By a Bosnian hotel owner (offering me a hotel room without me insinuating anything, saying it's not nice to camp outside in the cold and rain). I've been met with care and love everywhere. How sad we think something different is the case.


Why do we think we are nice, but "other people" are not?


Prejudice means 'a preconceived opinion that is not based on reason or actual experience'. How often do we act based on this? Not that long ago when I was posting about my journey in a sailing group on Facebook as part of trying to find a lift with a sailboat over to Sweden someone commented 'Crazy lady!!! There are a lot of seriously dangerous things in Afrique!' This way of thinking and speaking is so common. It's engrained. I'm also guilty of this. Discriminating and creating distance between people. Hurting ourselves and others in doing so. LIMITING ourselves and others.


If anything, this journey has been the biggest reminder and final confirmation of what your neighbour is actually like!

Needless to say, I have been welcomed and found warmth EVERYWHERE. In every country, in every culture, in every religion.

Cape to Kapp: Bicycle Touring in the Norwegian Winter

Teresie Hommersand grew up near Stavanger, a city known as the oil capital of Norway. She remembers eating supper every evening off plates with the logo of the national oil and gas company on them. Somehow she became the "green sheep" of the family. She has lived in Uganda, Oregon, and Australia. Learn more about her 13,700 km ride going from the most southern part of South Africa to the northernmost part of Norway (Capetown, South Africa to Kapp, Norway) and her charity crowdfunding campaign on her Facebook page and Instagram.  She is currently nearing the end of her journey - in Norway above the Arctic Circle. She has been riding a Soma Saga for the entire adventure.

Your mode of transportation affects what you experience - as do the seasons while riding. Especially in a country like Norway with big seasonal differences. I thought I knew what cold was, but cycling into winter, en route from the most southern point of Africa to the most northern point in Europe on my Soma Saga, I quickly understood that I didn't.

When cycling across continents over time, you cannot always have blue skies and pleasant summer temperatures. 'Thank God' by the way! How boring wouldn't that be? When my friends saw that I was going to most likely hit Norway mid-winter, I was told to speed up, so I'd avoid cycling in winter. Warnings telling me how absolutely horrible the experiences of others had been. I'm so glad I didn't. Cycling and camping in full-on winter conditions is a challenge, but also a definite highlight on this journey! 

I'm so thankful for pretty much living outdoors en route. In my tent. Seeing and feeling the seasons gradually and subtly changing. Something I've never been in tune with before, living inside of four walls. It's fascinating, seeing the first thin ice at the edges of a small stream when refilling my water bottle. The shapes, colours and textures make it look like art. As do icicles next to the road. The excitement at the first frost on my tent. On my bike. Discovered when getting out of my tent in the morning. It was getting cold for sure, but I was still managing with the gear I had. 

Re-thinking My Equipment Strategy

Then, while staying with simply amazing people for a few nights, it suddenly got cold. Bone-chilling cold! From -5°C to -15. -20°C. Born and raised in Norway I though I knew what cold was. But there I was, for the first time truly understanding that the winter temperatures along the southwest coast of Norway is hardly comparable to that of the further north inland areas. This was serious. Dead serious. I realized I wasn't equipped to continue cycling without putting my life at risk. 

A few nights turned into a few weeks under the roof of Randi and Svein Helge, getting all the needed gear together. I'm still feeling so grateful thinking of them and how they helped me out in the biggest way - and included me in their lives. As I was about to hop on my bike again, Randi asked me what places en route I've stayed longer than a few days. To the relatively short list that includes Nairobi, Khartoum, Amman, Jerusalem, Istanbul, Athens, Vienna and Berlin, I now have to add Høylandet. A random tiny village in Norway. We had to laugh as we hugged goodbye. 

Now the real adventure began! Every single piece of sponsored winter equipment was allowing me to not just survive but enjoy touring in winter! It's absolutely fascinating and amazing how one can keep warm with right equipment and enjoy - even though it's down to -30°C! I cannot think of much else that is as beautiful as a winter landscape - and riding through it. It's like a white desert. Silent. Vast. Muffled sounds. Snow crystals on my handlebar pannier. Crisp air. Low hanging branches under the weight of snow. And the light. Pastel colours at dusk. Pink. Purple. Now my favourite time of the day. You don't get light like this other times of the year. Waking up in winter wonder land. Emerging from my heavy duty winter sleeping bag. Peeping out of my tent each morning, I got a huge smile on my face that stayed there the whole day. So happy!

Three Hours to Set Up Camp?

And happy I was managing and thriving in my new circumstances. Cycling and camping in the snow and hefty minus degrees. A first for me and a real sense of achievement. But it does require a lot more work. Everything takes more time and goes slower. I am cycling on snowy and icy roads with an extra weighed-down bicycle due to all the must-have winter equipment. My winter sleeping bag alone was filling up one of my rear panniers. Also taking up more time was setting up and taking down camp. Before I hit winter I was using my light weight MSR Hubba NX solo tent. Self-standing and so easy and quick to put up. 10 minutes. For winter I exchanged it for Hilleberg's robust Nallo 2 sleeper, allowing me to fit all the extra gear and cook inside the large vestibule in case of bad weather. But putting up and taking down this tunnel tent was an exercise in patience. From the time I stepped off my bike until I was ready to hit the sack, it usually took around three hours. Three hours! 

I couldn't push my bike through the snow, it was too deep, so I had to take off all the stuff on my bike and take turns carrying it from the road over to my chosen camping spot. Then push my bike through the snow. Before erecting the tent I had to stomp the ground, making it flat and leveled. Since I didn't carry skis, I had to do it literally one step at a time. Other times I had to dig or shovel snow to make it nice. When putting up the tent, because the ground is frozen, I couldn't use normal pegs, but snow pegs. Fastening them also requires digging and snow shoveling, and there was 10 of them. The tent is very sturdy afterwards though. Then I had to unpack all my stuff. Cook. Melt water. Make a hot water bottle. None which I have to do other times of the year. I can eat cold food and get water from a stream. 

I addition, the number of daylight hours this far north in winter are few. Perhaps the greatest challenge for me riding in winter is to stay motivated when you're average distance per day is only 30 kilometers and you feel like more than half of the time all you're doing is putting up and down your tent. 

Still Rewarding

But despite all this extra work and occasionally cold toes and fingers, it's so worth it. And because it is a challenge, it's even more exciting and rewarding. I'm feeling so grateful for getting to experience all climates and seasons on my bike. From riding in 50°C in Sahara in Sudan, to riding in -30°C in winter in Norway. I'm now doing my second winter on my Soma Saga, this time above the Arctic Circle. This time in even more darkness. But I wouldn't have it any other way.