My inner alarm clock gently rings in a new day. I hear roosters in the distance, crickets are chirping, it's still dark outside. A glance at my phone confirms what I actually already know, because I know my inner alarm clock - it's just before six. Immediately my digestive tract, whose working rhythm has changed shifts since the beginning of the trip, answers. During the day, my body uses all its energy to pedal hundreds of kilometers, at night it digests. And then a program starts, that I affectionately call "German efficency Lisa". My overnight oats are already prepared, my clothes are near by, because they have served me as a pillow at night. Sleeping bag, sleeping pad, tent are packed in no time, almost as if by itself.
At sunrise we start cycling. (Are you still wondering why I'm traveling alone?) I choose a playlist between 90s trash, Disney hits and punk rock holiday tunes and get on my bike.
Where I'll sleep tonight - no idea. Let's see. First, a few hours of pedaling. I already filled up my water bottles yesterday, at the last gas station. I still have enough bread, fruit and peanut butter for the next days lunch snacks. Sometimes I don't even notice how time flies. I sing along loudly, laugh at podcasts and think about God and the world (less God, more world(pain)).
It's the ultimate freedom. My life weighs 40 KG, rolls on two wheels, going 20-25 km/h (without headwind or incline). It's all so simple, so minimalist and at the same time the smallest everyday things are suddenly huge. Showers (especially hot ones) are like winning the lottery, the only vegan sorbet from the ice cream parlor in the middle of nowhere, suddenly tastes as exciting as the 3, 50 € scoop of "basil infused lemongrass" from the hipster ice cream parlor in Berlin. Gas stations become paradise. Sunsets are the evening's entertainment program. And a safe, hidden place to sleep is the cherry on top of each day.