To be honest, I never thought I would ever drive a motorbike.

Not until the moment I met Tim. This guy was crazy about bikes and dreaming of the newest Ducati and watching every single race of this Rossi guy. Of Course, I could have refused to swing my leg on that back seat, but then I would miss out on all the fun when he asked me come along for a weekend ride.

Now, only a couple years later I got my own license and I am am going to ride this great journey. It freaks me out, across all those roads, some will have just slippery mud! My riding history counts 43 kilometer, so there is only one way to find out how I will experience this journey. I can’t wait to set up our camp and stare at the campfire with a fine glass of whiskey. Bring it on.




When I turned 21, my parents decided on something which I think they somewhat still regret today. In the plain white enveloppe I was asked to open on the morning of my birthday, I found a considerable amount of cash. Both my mom and dad looked at me seriously and said this money was meant for my motor bike lessons.

The first time they may have regretted their gift was on 2 June 2009. Exactly 9 years and 1 day ago. It was the day I flew over the front of my motorbike with 70 km/h on the Zandvoort race track. Luckily, I could call my mom myself from the ambulance. Less luckily was the fact that my parents (and little sister) had to take care of me for about 2 months as I was quite helpless with a broken hip, 2 broken wrists and some concussions.

Fast forward to September 2016, family holiday in Tuscany. ‘Mom, dad, sis, we have to tell you something;’. By the looks in their eyes, I’d swear they all hoped that we would announce a family extension. Instead, Janneke and me told them that we started to make a plan to do a motorbike trip from Amsterdam to ‘somewhere in Asia’.

Although it was clear that they supported our plan and that they were happy for us, I can imagine that their thoughts went back to my 21st birthday gift many years ago!

What is the addiction then? Mostly I think it is ordinary thrill seeking. Going into that corner a bit faster than feels comfortable. The adrenaline kicks in. Everything goes in slow motion. A funky mix of fear and excitement. And then the satisfaction which lasts.. until the next corner ;).

Funnily enough I am writing this in a tent. I used to hate camping. This morning I made coffee with the percolator on our MSR gas burner. Yes Janneke, perhaps I made you drive a motorbike, but surely you made me go camping and travel so much. Combine those things and before you know it you are on a sabbatical travelling to Nepal on a motorbike.