This is me — when I first mentioned my idea about the 4,000 km trip to my Mum during a visit to Oregon this June 2026. She quietly looked at the water and said nothing about my crazy decision.

We had to postpone the original start from the evening of June 19th to the morning of June 20th. A persistent issue with my rear tubeless tire kept us awake most of the night. Despite several attempts to find and fix the leak, the tire continued to lose air. At around 4 a.m., we finally decided to give up on the tubeless setup and install an inner tube instead. It definitely wasn't the evening I had planned. Instead of getting some rest before the journey, I spent the last hours before departure troubleshooting the bike and hoping to be ready for the start the next morning. 🚴🔧

The journey finally began today. 🚴🌍 For the first 100 km, my brother Lukáš decided to join me. Riding together helped me settle into the adventure and made the start of the trip even more enjoyable. The heat was absolutely brutal, reaching around 36°C (97°F). Passing through our capital city, Prague, it felt even hotter. Combined with approximately 1,500 meters of elevation gain, it made for a challenging first day on the bike. Despite the heat and the climbing, I managed to complete my first 200 km of the journey. A tough but rewarding start to the road ahead. ☀️🔥💪🚴

After yesterday's hot day, today was even hotter. ☀️🔥 To make things worse, I got eaten alive by mosquitoes during the night. Instead of resting, I spent half the night chasing them out of my tarp, which has no side walls. 🦟😅 I was aiming for a stage of around 200 km or more, but from the Czech-German border and for about 50 km beyond it, the road seemed to climb constantly. By the end of the day, I had accumulated around 1,665 meters of elevation gain. Even so, I managed to ride my longest distance so far on this journey. 🚴💪 Hopefully tomorrow will be a little less mountainous and a bit more forgiving. ⛰️➡️🌍

Many cyclists say that the third day is when the real crisis hits. For me, it wasn't fatigue that became the challenge, but rather a sore saddle area and some serious digestive issues. 😅 Maybe it was the German food... or more likely the non-German food I decided to eat while in Germany. Let's just say I became very familiar with the beautiful fields lining my route and had to make several unscheduled stops along the way. 🌾😂 My goal for the day was another 200–220 km, and fortunately the terrain was much more forgiving than the previous day. The route led through relatively flat countryside filled with fields, meadows, and large industrial towns, allowing me to maintain a good pace and reach my planned distance. One of the highlights of the day was meeting a local cyclist, probably around seventy years old, who joined me for nearly 30 km. Along the way, he showed me a fantastic cycling path built on a former railway line. It was a beautiful stretch of road and a great example of how unexpected encounters can make a journey even more memorable. 🚴🤝 I finished the day in the historic city of Ulm. I already had a campsite picked out, but after arriving I discovered it was closed because the main season had not yet started. As a result, I spent the evening searching for another place to stay and didn't finally settle down until around 10:00 PM. ⛺🌙

After three days, fatigue started to kick in, so I planned a shorter stage today and focused mainly on recharging my body — and my batteries. The forecast promised beautiful weather, but reality had other plans: I got caught in two proper downpours along the way. So today is for resting, drying everything out, and tomorrow I’ll continue fully recharged. I’m getting close to Switzerland now, and tomorrow looks like it’s going to be a very hilly ride. 🚵‍♂️

🍽

Before I start describing today’s stage, I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has sent me a contribution for my journey. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much! 🙏 It already came in handy today. I crossed into Switzerland, which is not in the EU, so I had to buy an eSIM card. And of course, that was not the end of it. Lunch was no longer at German prices, and the evening accommodation didn’t cost just a few euros either — it was already a few Swiss francs more. And since I’m talking about expenses, I also had to buy a mosquito net, because I’m completely bitten and scratched up. So that’s probably enough about today’s financial reality on the road. Now back to the stage itself. I have to say that yesterday’s shorter route and a long sleep really helped me. My batteries are back to 100%, and I’m ready to go again. For today’s ride, I put on the national winner champion’s jersey that I earned in MTB, so let’s hope it gives me a bit of extra strength out here too. 🚵‍♂️ The route took me from southern Germany into Switzerland. From the area around Singen, I reached Schaffhausen and then continued through the Swiss countryside via Baden, Aarau, Olten, the Solothurn area, and on towards Biel/Bienne. It was a long stage with plenty of kilometers and climbing. Switzerland is beautiful, but it definitely doesn’t give you anything for free. The hills, the weather, the higher prices, and the fatigue from the previous days all make every kilometer a little more challenging. Now the plan is clear: rest, food, drying things out, and sleep. Tomorrow I continue again — hopefully fully recharged. 🚵‍♂️🌧️

Originally, the route from Solothurn to Geneva was supposed to be 179.1 km. In the end, it turned into almost 200 km again, because I couldn’t find a campsite directly in Geneva as planned. So after dark, I had to keep going out to the suburbs, all the way to Camping Bois-de-Bay. The first part of the day had the calm rhythm of the Swiss countryside. The landscape slowly changed: roads, bike paths, towns, rivers, lakes, and long stretches where it’s no longer just about your legs, but mostly about your head, patience, and the ability to keep moving. The end of the day was tough, but it was partly balanced out by beautiful views of the landscape around Lake Geneva and the wider Swiss landscape. 🌄 The arrival, however, wasn’t exactly pleasant. The campsite is close to the French border and feels more like a temporary camp or a place for homeless people than a classic campsite for cyclists. Maybe it’s just exhaustion and a first impression in the dark, but I don’t feel completely comfortable here. I’m going to sleep with my bike and backpack as close to me as possible. 😬 Switzerland also hasn’t been very kind to me when it comes to navigation. I had to buy new mobile data here, but even then it didn’t work 100%. Hopefully things will get easier once I cross into France. 🤞 After almost 200 kilometers, I expected mostly peace and relief. Tonight it’s more about tiredness, caution, and the reality of travel — not a postcard sunset by the lake, but darkness on the edge of the city. I’ll take it as good training for Africa. 🌍 Thanks to more friends for the 💵 support.

Today was all about recovery. After a sleepless night in a no-name campsite, surrounded by all kinds of strange characters, I simply couldn't get any proper sleep. Because of that, I didn't set off until quite late this morning. The heat was relentless from the very beginning, and I could tell I was completely out of energy. My knees had started hurting badly, and on top of that, every part of my body that I hadn't covered properly with sunscreen was burning. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that I'm also dealing with a first-degree burn on my leg that I brought back from the USA. I got it while visiting a volcano (but that's a story for another day), and today it hurt like hell. If I want to keep pushing forward, I knew I had to stop today and give both myself and my bike some much-needed care. For the first time on this trip, my front tire started losing air. Unlike the rear tire, it still had tubeless sealant inside, but I couldn't inflate it enough with my small hand pump. I had to stop at a gas station and use their compressor instead. My little pump simply wasn't up to the job, no matter how hard I tried. Everything seemed to go wrong at once today. After just 43 kilometers, I called it a day and checked into a campsite where I can recover properly and get an early night's sleep. I also had to do my laundry. I only carry a few changes of clothes, and by now they not only smell terrible but are stiff with dried sweat and salt. I also need to eat properly because, after arriving so late yesterday, I barely had anything to eat. Well... some days are just like that. I had hoped to cool off with a swim because the campsite sits right on the Rhône River, but warning signs everywhere advise against entering the water because of the dangerous current. So yes... today was definitely one of *those* days. Tomorrow the alarm goes off at **5:00 AM**. I'm hoping to bounce back with a proper breakfast and a fresh start. The goal is **Avignon**, about **260 km** away. Wish me luck.

Today’s stage followed the Rhône Valley, although there were still a few smaller climbs along the way. I started riding a little earlier to avoid the **40°C (104°F)** heat that usually hits around **2 PM**. ☀️🥵 The flat section in the morning felt so good that, even on my almost **19 kg** loaded bike, I managed to cover **60 km in just two hours**. 🚴‍♂️💨💪 I decided to split the day into two stages with a long break from **3:30 PM**, and it definitely helped. Unfortunately, I still managed to get my forearms badly sunburned, so I had to switch to a long-sleeve jersey. 🥵🔥👕 The afternoon brought an absolutely brutal headwind. It was so strong that even moving forward on the bike became really difficult, and because of that, I had to cut down the distance I had originally planned for the day. It was mentally exhausting. So I had to reward myself with a well-deserved pizza... 🍕😅 Only for the wind to try and steal that from me too! 🌬️😂 Arriving late at the place where I had planned to sleep wasn't much fun either. The campsite was already closed, and the next one was another half an hour away. 😩 In the end, I found a nice, quiet spot in a safe forest. 🌲🏕️ Tonight I'll fall asleep under the stars, protected inside my mosquito net. ✨🦟🌌 Let's see what tomorrow brings. 🚴‍♂️💪🍀

Day 9 28 June 2026 📍 Livron-sur-Drôme (FRA) → Château de Montélimar (FRA)

🚴💥🚨

I was wondering when it would happen — and if it would happen at all. Today, it finally did. And it was a proper crash. 🚴💥🤕 Early in the morning, I set off along the Rhône cycle path, which is truly beautiful, heading toward Avignon. The stage had a mostly flat and slightly downhill profile, so I pushed hard into the pedals and rode some solid watts. But not even an hour into the ride, I unfortunately collided head-on with another cyclist coming from the opposite direction. I guess he was enjoying the morning ride just as much as I was. I went over the handlebars and hit the ground hard, landing painfully on my hand. Blood immediately started pouring from my finger and palm. For a moment, I thought that was it — but luckily, it seems only my hand took the hit. One of my finger joints also suffered badly. It turned purple, swelled up brutally, and I couldn’t move it at all. The bike seems to be okay, thankfully. I only broke the mount for my bike computer and destroyed my CamelBak. But I’m alive. 🚑🍀 About five minutes later, my dad called me. He had received an accident alert from my Garmin and immediately found the nearest medical clinic. Then, in a very strict fatherly way, he sent me straight there. 😅 My mum, who is a nurse, treated me remotely with advice, so I spent the rest of the morning going between doctors and the pharmacy. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get an X-ray on a Sunday, so for now I kept the hand under ice, disinfectant, ointment, and a thick layer of bandage. After that, I headed straight to a campsite, ate something, and completely crashed from exhaustion. When I woke up in the afternoon, I met some kind French people who helped me re-bandage my hand and gave me something frozen to cool it down. I also met some sunny, friendly guys who might join me on the way to Avignon tomorrow. 🇫🇷🩹❄️ Well, I’m still an optimist and I believe it might be better by tomorrow. I’d really like to continue, but braking and shifting with my left hand is pretty difficult right now. So we’ll see what tomorrow morning brings... 🤞🚴‍♂️🍀

Day 10 29 June 2026 📍 Château de Montélimar (FRA) → Vic-la-Gardiole (FRA)

182 km

Hi guys, thank you for your sympathy and support with my injured finger. The encouragement you sent me really helped. Thank you! 🙏 In the morning, I decided to continue. My finger was still hurting and I could hardly move it, but I set off anyway. 😅 I had a Plan B: if I saw a clinic somewhere along the way, I would stop and get an X-ray. Unfortunately, all I saw were vineyards, historic streets, and beautiful old towns — but no clinic anywhere. 🍇🏘️ At 6:30 in the morning, I set off with a few great guys from France, ready to cover more kilometers of my journey. After about 20 km, I left them behind, as they were continuing farther toward Marseille. 🚴‍♂️🇫🇷 Today, I was originally supposed to continue on a longer route heading southwest, but I decided to shorten it and turn off toward the coast. Out of the original route of about 205 km, I rode 182 km and ended the day at a campsite in the Les Aresquiers area, near Vic-la-Gardiole. The route led from the inland part of southern France toward the Mediterranean Sea. I visited the picturesque beach of Domaine d’Aresquiers. 🌊 The landscape gradually changed — from the dry southern French interior, through the area around Montpellier, to a coastal strip of lagoons, pine trees, and salt marshes. 🌲 Instead of continuing farther, I chose a quieter end to the day by the sea. Sometimes the best decision on a route is simply to turn off. ✨

Day 11 30 June 2026 📍 Vic-la-Gardiole (FRA) → Canet-en-Roussillon (FRA)

161,5 Km

In the morning, I felt much better and decided to skip the X-ray after all. My finger was still far from perfect, but it felt good enough to keep riding. 😅 The bigger problem was a terrible rash all over my body. I guess the Mediterranean sun was simply too much for someone who had just come from Alaska. ☀️😄 My northern skin clearly wasn't ready for southern France. Luckily, I found a store where I bought UV-protective long sleeves and full-length cycling tights. Not exactly the most fashionable cycling outfit, but at that moment I cared much more about survival than style. I started the day in Vic-la-Gardiole, following the Mediterranean coastline through the beautiful landscapes of southern France. The route led past lagoons, salt marshes, canals, charming coastal towns, and endless flat roads shaped by the wind and the sun. After Narbonne, the scenery became even wilder around the lagoons of La Palme and Leucate before the final stretch toward Canet-en-Roussillon and the beaches near Perpignan. During the ride, I met two hilarious guys from Germany 🇩🇪 whose full-time "job" seemed to be traveling the world by bike. Germany really is the land of social benefits! 😄🚴‍♂️ We ended up riding together for the rest of the day and eventually found a campsite for the night. The kilometers suddenly passed much faster because I had finally escaped the loneliness of riding solo. 😁 We shared plenty of funny stories, talked about life, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of having good company on the road. It looks like I'll continue riding with them toward Spain for at least the next few days. Let's see where the road takes us next. 🇪🇸🚴‍♂️

Day 12 1 July 2026 📍 Canet-en-Roussillon (FRA) → Lloret de Mar (ESP)

140,5 km

Today’s stage from Canet-en-Roussillon to Lloret de Mar looked simple on the map — just follow the sea. But reality was a bit more intense. 🚴‍♂️🌊 The morning started flat, riding past lagoons and the coastline, but later the road climbed through Collioure, Banyuls-sur-Mer, Cerbère and across the border to Portbou. Switchbacks, wind, sun and views that made the suffering worth it. ⛰️☀️🇪🇸 For the second stage in a row, I’m riding with two great guys from Germany — Arny and Ben. Today their company was extra useful, because I got a flat tire and my golden Czech hands didn’t work quite as well as the German ones. 😂🔧 But besides the hard riding, there was also plenty of fun. In the evening, we let the bikes rest and went into town together on foot. Another day I’ll be happy to remember. 🚶‍♂️🍻

Day 13 2 July 2026 📍 Lloret de Mar (ESP)

🏖️ + 🚑

Day 13 didn’t bring anything special cycling-wise. Actually, almost nothing at all. 😄 I stayed one more day in the very nice town of Lloret de Mar with my new friends, and it was exactly what I needed — proper rest, recovery and plenty of food to refill the calories I felt were starting to run low. Doing laundry also wasn’t a bad idea, since I’m rotating only two cycling jerseys and one T-shirt. 😅 In the end, I also found a clinic where they checked my finger. It was definitely about time. 🏥🤕 After a second rest day, I’m getting up and leaving my new friends behind. I want to be in Barcelona one day before the start of the Tour de France and feel the buzz around it. 🚴‍♂️🇪🇸 Lloret de Mar was exactly what I needed — rest, food, laundry and a bit of recovery. But now it’s time to move on again.

Day 14 3 July 2026 📍 Lloret de Mar (ESP) → Tarragona (ESP)

176,6 km

Today I was back on the road **SOLO**. I said goodbye to my German friends and set off at **6:00 a.m.**, heading toward **Barcelona** and later **Tarragona**. Since the **opening stage of the Tour de France** starts there the following day, I expected the city to be buzzing with cycling fans. And I was absolutely right. 🚴🇫🇷 Although today's route followed the Mediterranean coastline for most of the day, it was far from easy. The profile was surprisingly hilly, and by the end of the stage I had climbed around **1,800 meters of elevation**. 🌊⛰️ Without a doubt, the highlight of the day was **Barcelona** and the incredible atmosphere ahead of the biggest cycling race in the world. I arrived early enough to explore the areas where tomorrow's Grand Départ will take place. I even left my bike with the mechanics from one of the professional teams while I walked around the event village. And the best part? They gave my bike a quick service completely free of charge and even wrapped my handlebars with fresh bar tape! 😍🔧 For a few moments, I felt like Tadej Pogačar. 🚴✨ Barcelona itself completely won me over. Fantastic cycling infrastructure, beautiful streets, stunning architecture, and an amazing atmosphere everywhere you look. It's a city that truly welcomes cyclists, and I'm certain I'll come back one day—even without my bike. ❤️ After soaking up the Tour excitement, I continued south. Finding a campsite in the evening wasn't difficult, but it was obvious everyone was expecting a huge influx of visitors. Prices were noticeably higher than I had anticipated, but that's part of traveling during a world-class sporting event. 🏕️💸 Overall, today was simply awesome! Now it's time to change the dressing on my injured finger, grab something good to eat, and get some rest before another day in the saddle. See you tomorrow, **on the route!** 🚴🌍 AHOY!

Day 15 4 July 2026 📍 Tarragona (ESP) → les Coves de Vinromà (ESP)

163,5 km

Before I dive into today's stage, I have to celebrate an important milestone... 🥳 Today I officially passed the 2,000-kilometre mark of this adventure! YEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!! 🎉🚴🥳 Every single kilometre has brought new experiences, incredible people, unforgettable places, and, of course, a few tough moments. But this is exactly why I started this journey. Two thousand kilometres down... and many more still to come! 💪🌍 After the incredible atmosphere around the Tour de France, it was time to return to the real rhythm of the road — just me, my bike, and the long Spanish countryside ahead. The route slowly left the busy coast behind and led me into a completely different Spain. Tourists disappeared, traffic became lighter, and quiet roads started winding between olive groves, dry fields, small villages, and rougher sections that were definitely more gravel bike adventure than classic road cycling. I was really glad my "Continental All Terrain 5000" tires handled it all. On this kind of mixed surface, good tires are not a detail — they are the difference between enjoying the ride and fighting the road all day. One of the most beautiful moments was crossing the bridge in Amposta over the Ebro River From there, the landscape changed even more. Old church towers appeared above white houses, and every village seemed to have its own quiet story. I stopped for a while in Sant Mateu, a beautiful historic town with a peaceful medieval atmosphere. I also found old public washing places, a reminder of how life here used to be. By the end of the day, the rolling hills had taken a lot of energy from my legs, but the peace of the countryside gave something back. Today was not just cycling. It was a real gravel bike day through the Spain hidden behind beaches, crowds, and big cities. And that is exactly why I love traveling by bicycle. 🚴🌍 And as usual, the day ends with me searching for a place to sleep at the very last minute. Luckily, I found a municipal hostel where apparently pilgrims, tourists, athletes, and cyclists sometimes stay. The building is open, but there is nobody around. I'm trying to message and call, but no answer so far. So I guess I'm staying here anyway — sleeping in the courtyard. That's punk. I just hope I get some rest, because the energy is slowly running out. :(

Day 16 5 July 2026 📍 les Coves de Vinromà (ESP) → Valencia (ESP)

125,5 km

The night in Les Coves de Vinromà was supposed to be simple. I planned to sleep at the municipal accommodation, but it slowly turned into an unpleasant situation. During the night, I was asked to leave the place where I had already unpacked my gear. Together with a few other night wanderers, I suddenly had to look for another place to sleep. In the end, I moved to a nearby caravan campsite, where I managed to finish — or rather not really finish — the rest of the night. So when morning came, I really did not feel like getting up. But the Mediterranean was calling me back. After several demanding stages through rolling hills and gravel roads, today should finally be a little kinder to both my legs and my bike. The route from Les Coves de Vinromà towards Valencia promised smoother asphalt, open landscapes, and the chance to feel the bike rolling again. On the way, I also had to stop and look for a new phone charger. For the first time, I was not only riding SOLO, but also SOLO unnavigated. 😄 No map, no comfort, just instinct, roads, and hope. At first, the road still wound through quiet inland countryside. But little by little, the terrain became flatter, the villages more frequent, and the sea slowly started to feel closer again. In Valencia, I made a longer stop. A local woman kindly gave me a small tour of the city and showed me some of its most interesting places. One of the most fascinating things was the old riverbed, which has been transformed into a beautiful modern part of the city, full of life, architecture, parks, and public spaces. Valencia surprised me. It felt open, green, modern, and very friendly to cyclists. After hours on the road, it was a perfect place to slow down for a while and simply enjoy the city. But before the day was over, there were still more kilometres ahead. The plan was simple: Keep pedaling. Keep smiling. And hope for a better night next time. 🚴☀️🌴

Day 17 6 July 2026 📍 Valencia (ESP) → Valdeganaga (ESP)

180,5 km

Hi everyone! 👋 I'm finally back online! After yesterday's power disaster, I managed to recharge everything in Albacete and bought a brand-new power bank. My old one had faithfully survived thousands of kilometres, but it finally decided it had reached the finish line. 🔋😄 Now I can finally tell you about Day 17. What a day... Without any doubt, this was the most beautiful stage of the entire trip so far. The route completely changed character once again. I discovered a Spain I hadn't seen before: endless mountains, quiet plateaus, tiny historic villages, old stone buildings, abandoned mills, and roads disappearing into the horizon. The people were incredibly kind. Everyone smiled, waved, and tried to communicate, even though almost nobody spoke English and my Spanish is still... very creative. 😄 Somehow, we always managed. The food in the inland restaurants was another huge surprise: cheap, delicious, and much better than anything you could expect for that price. A good coffee for €1, great meals, and steaks that deserve their own chapter. 🥩☕ From a cycling perspective, it was brutal. I climbed almost 2,500 metres, crossing the mountains and riding onto the high inland plateau of Castilla-La Mancha. I thought that once I reached the plateau, the climbing would finally be over. I was wrong. Even up there, the road kept throwing steep climbs at me. One moment the asphalt was brand new and empty, with maybe one car per hour. Then suddenly, without warning, the road disappeared into rough gravel or sand. Along the way, I passed beautiful old villages and found a historic watermill with a millrace, where I finally cooled down with a swim. 💦 In the evening, I reached a tiny village, had dinner with the locals, watched football, and then found my “hotel” for the night — a wheat field outside the village. 🌾😄 Luckily, the local farmer never saw me. Otherwise, I might have been chased away again, just like yesterday. Sometimes this journey feels less like a cycling trip and more like a daily lesson in improvisation. And honestly... I wouldn't change it for anything. 🚴❤️🌍

Day 18 7 July 2026 📍 Valdeganaga (ESP) → Villapalacios (ESP)

145 km

I'm slowly reaching the end of the European part of my journey. Only a few stages remain before I arrive at the ferry port and head to Africa, so I'm making the most of Spain's beautiful inland countryside. Long empty roads, almost no traffic, tiny villages scattered far apart, and landscapes with a completely different charm than the coastline. 🌾☀️ My first stop of the day was Albacete, the only larger city on today's route. I had to buy a new power bank because on a trip like this, riding without a phone, navigation, and a reliable way to keep everything charged simply isn't an option anymore. 🔋📱 After leaving Albacete, the road gradually became more rolling as I headed toward the Sierra de Alcaraz. There were no brutal climbs—just long, steady ascents that slowly drain your legs. The real challenge, however, wasn't the elevation. It was the heat. Even in the hills, the temperature climbed back to 38–40°C (100–104°F), so I took an almost two-hour HOT BREAK. 🥵🌡️ Sometimes the smartest strategy is simply to stop, find some shade, and wait for the worst of the afternoon heat to pass. I also managed to cool off at a public swimming pool I passed along the way, so today I checked all the boxes: relaxation, a proper shower, and refueling with some good food. 🏊🍽️ Today's blog will even be a little bit about gastronomy. 😄 The only thing I really have to keep an eye on is water—natural springs and refill points are quite rare in this part of Spain. 💧 I finally reached Villapalacios tired but happy. It wasn't a stage filled with famous landmarks—just a long, honest ride through the heart of rural Spain. And those are often the days I enjoy the most: endless roads, very few people, a little uncertainty, and that amazing feeling of moving one step closer to my destination. 🚴❤️ One more thing: there are almost no campsites in this area, and I don't really rely on local hostels, so tonight it's wild camping once again. Fortunately, this region feels incredibly safe, and best of all... there are no mosquitoes! 🌙⛺😄

Day 19 8 July 2026 📍 Villapalacios (ESP) → Ubeda (ESP)

115 km

Today's stage from Villapalacios to Úbeda was beautiful, but brutally hot. The temperature climbed to around 39°C (102°F), and I rode for an hour and a half without finding a single drop of water. No shop, no gas station, no fountain. I was really suffering. ☀️🥵 Along the way, however, I found someone who was in even worse shape—a tiny bird, probably with a broken wing. I carefully placed it in my handlebar bag and carried it for about 50 km until I reached a small town, where I found a veterinary clinic and handed it over to the vet. 🐦❤️ Today wasn't just about the distance. I also climbed around 1,600 meters, and one of the hills was so steep that I honestly thought I might tip over backwards. As I approached Úbeda, I was surrounded by Andalusia's endless sea of olive trees before finally reaching the beautiful historic town, which, together with Baeza, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Today I'm calling it a day a little earlier than usual. I found a hostel where I can recover, wash all my sweat-soaked, salt-covered clothes, and get ready for the next stage. A shorter day—but definitely the right decision. 🚴🌍

Day 20 9 July 2026 📍 Ubeda (ESP) → La Guaria da Jaen (ESP)

75 km + 🔨🔨

The ride from Úbeda to Malaga was supposed to be a relatively easy stage. But after only about 20 km, I got my first flat tire... and shortly after fixing it, a second one followed. 🚴💥 I ended up pushing my bike for nearly 2 km in search of help. Ironically, I found a beautiful bike shop full of €3,000+ bikes—but they didn't sell spare tubes or any replacement parts. So I kept walking. It turned out the problem wasn't the tube at all. After several tough gravel stages, one of the spokes had loosened inside the rim, damaging the rim tape. Every new tube was getting punctured almost immediately. Luckily, a local cycling enthusiast spotted me, invited me for lunch, and together we repaired the rim using electrical tape. He even helped me find three new inner tubes, saving my trip. 🙏🚴 The whole ordeal delayed me so much that I didn't get back on the road until 6 p.m., with the temperature still around 38°C (100°F). ☀️🥵 But I'm still moving forward. After losing precious time over the last few days, I now know I'll have to shorten some of the remaining route if I want to reach Algeciras in time for my ferry and flight. Every kilometer counts now. 💪🌍

Day 21 10 July 2026 📍 La Guaria da Jaen (ESP) → Pegalajar (ESP)

143,5 km

After a short break in La Guardia de Jaén, I headed toward Pegalajar. It didn't look too bad on the map, but by the end of the day I had climbed around 1,700 meters (5,600 ft), so it was anything but an easy ride. 🚴⛰️ Right after leaving town, I found myself surrounded by endless olive groves. Olive trees to the left, to the right, in front of me, and behind me. Add scorching hot asphalt, relentless climbs, and the blazing sun beating down all day, and every corner that looked like it might bring some flat road only revealed another hill. 😅☀️ A few kilometers later, I heard that familiar hissing sound again. This time it came from the rear wheel. A long thorn had pierced the tire, so it was time to stop once more, unload the bags, and fix another flat. 🌵🛞🔧 Fortunately, that was the only mechanical issue of the day. Eventually, Pegalajar appeared ahead of me—a beautiful little white village nestled beneath towering cliffs. After climbing 1,700 meters, rolling into town felt almost like finishing a mountain stage. 🏘️🏁 After losing so much time to crashes, flat tires, and other unexpected delays, I'm now speeding toward the coast. The next big challenge is crossing into Africa. So, see you tomorrow—hopefully from the African part of my journey! 🌍🚴

Day 22 11 July 2026 📍 Pegalajar (ESP) → Gaucín (ESP)

170 km

Today's stage was a special milestone for me. During the ride, I passed the 3,000-kilometer (1,864-mile) mark since leaving Liberec. 🚴🎉 It's hard to believe that just a few weeks ago I was setting off from the Czech Republic, and now Africa is literally within reach. After another night under the stars, I set off early in the morning, heading south. The goal of today's stage was simple—to get as close to Gibraltar as possible so I could catch an early morning ferry to Africa. 🚴🌅 After losing several valuable days and many hours because of flat tires, injuries, and exhaustion, I even considered taking a bus closer to the coast. I found two different services that would have saved me a lot of time, but neither driver was willing to take my bicycle. So... I'll just have to ride it the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, that also means the African part of my journey will be much shorter than I originally planned. 😕 The first part of the day still led through the endless olive groves that had been my constant companions for the past several days. Gradually, though, the scenery began to change. There was more greenery, and the road wound through small Andalusian towns and rolling hills. 🌳🫒 One of the highlights of the day was riding through Ronda, one of the most beautiful towns in Andalusia. Perched high above the spectacular El Tajo Gorge, it offers breathtaking views of towering cliffs, the deep canyon below, and the famous Puente Nuevo bridge. It was one of those places where you simply have to stop, put the bike down, and enjoy the view. 🌉⛰️📸 From there, I kept heading south, covering as many kilometers as possible before stopping for the night just a short ride from the coast. Tomorrow morning, the plan is finally to reach the port. The European chapter of my adventure is slowly coming to an end. With a bit of luck, tomorrow I'll cross the Strait of Gibraltar and begin the African part of my journey. 🚢🌍🚴

Day 23 12 July 2026 📍Gaucín (ESP) → Tarifa (ESP) → 🚢 Tangier (MA)

91,6 km

The final European kilometers were finally here. 🚴🌍 I set off early in the morning from Gaucín, heading toward Tarifa, the southernmost town in mainland Spain and continental Europe. As the road gradually descended toward the coast, the Strait of Gibraltar came into view. And there it was—Africa, visible on the horizon, a destination that just a few weeks earlier had been nothing more than a tiny dot on the map. The European chapter of my expedition had come to an end. Now there was only one thing left to do: board the ferry and begin the next chapter in Africa. 🚢🌍🚴 Unfortunately, I already know that the African part of my journey will be much shorter than I originally planned because of all the problems and delays along the way. And today brought one more issue—my cycling shoe broke, so I’m now riding with only one working cleat. Not exactly ideal... 😕🚴‍♂️

Day 24 13 July 2026 📍 Tangier (MA) → El Behara Ould Bouchaaib (MA)

160 km

My first full day of cycling in Africa was supposed to end in Rabat, but once again, things didn’t quite go according to plan. 🚴🇲🇦 First, I had to find a cycling shop in Tangier and buy a new cleat for my cycling shoe. Without it, I simply couldn’t continue properly. Even though I was ready to leave at 7:00 a.m., the shop didn’t open until 11:00, so I started much later than planned. From Tangier, I headed south along the Atlantic coast. The route led through small villages, open countryside, fields, and long stretches with views of the ocean. The landscape was mostly rolling rather than mountainous, with constant short climbs and descents that gradually added up during the day. 🌊🌾⛰️ At times, it felt as though I had travelled hundreds of years into the past—places with no visible electricity, running water, or cars. It was fascinating, but also a little unsettling, especially because it was such a huge contrast to the luxury tourist resorts only a short distance away. Because of my late start, I couldn’t reach Rabat before sunset. Once darkness arrived, it became unbelievably dark—far darker than I had been used to in Europe. Even with a strong front light and a red rear light, cycling on unfamiliar roads at night was scary. Cars and trucks were moving fast and sometimes passing quite aggressively. The road surface could change without warning from asphalt to gravel, with deep potholes and large rocks everywhere. At around 10:30 p.m., I found myself in the middle of nowhere. The nearest hotel I could find was another 50 kilometres away. On one side was a restricted military area near the coast, while on the other side were a highway and dry fields filled with local crops. There was simply nowhere suitable to sleep. I stopped in the small village of El Behara Ould Bouchaaib and asked the locals for directions to any hotel, hostel, campsite, or apartment. Instead, these people—who only a few hours earlier had seemed to me as though they were living in another century—opened their home and gave me a place to stay for the night. I was incredibly grateful to be somewhere safe, although I have to admit that I was still so suspicious and nervous that I barely closed my eyes. Looking back, I was probably being far too cautious. Tomorrow will be the very last day of my journey. 🚴🌍

Day - 25 The End of My Journey 🚴🌍 14 July 2026 📍 El Behara Ould Bouchaaib (MA) → Rabat → 🚐 Agadir (MA)

20 km + 🚐

After crossing from Spain to Morocco by ferry, I wasn't all that surprised by the landscape itself. In many ways, it actually resembles southern Spain. What truly felt like a different world, though, was the Arab culture, the way of life, and especially the enormous contrast between rural areas and the cities. In the countryside, I met people living without running water, walking everywhere—sometimes even barefoot. Yet just a few dozen kilometers away, wealthy families live in modern houses and high-rise buildings, enjoying a standard of living that can easily rival, or even exceed, that of many people in Europe or America. This striking contrast was probably my strongest impression of Morocco, even though I only had the chance to experience a small part of it. My original plan was to continue much farther south. But after all the technical problems, punctures, injuries, extreme heat, exhaustion, and the growing delay to my schedule, I had to accept reality and change my plans. So today, I get on my bike for the very last time—just for a short ride to the bus station. From there, a bus will take me to Agadir, where this adventure officially comes to an end and where I'll catch my flight home. Unfortunately, reaching Agadir by bike in time was no longer possible. Even so, I consider this entire journey one of my greatest personal achievements. I saw an incredible part of the world, met countless fascinating people, gained invaluable experience, and, most importantly, proved to myself that I'm capable of far more on a bicycle than I ever imagined. 🚴🌍 But this journey wasn't only about cycling. It was about pushing beyond my own limits and stepping far outside the comfort zone we normally live in. Traveling completely alone challenges your mind far more than riding in a group. And let's be honest—constantly figuring out where to ride, where to sleep, what to eat, where to wash your clothes, or where you could find medical help if something went wrong... that's exhausting too. It doesn't show up in the number of kilometers, but you carry that weight in your head and your body every single day. So, let's sum it all up:

3,365 kilometers.

30,841 meters of climbing.

6 countries.

2 continents.

Along the way I suffered five punctures, one serious crash, and a full-body sun rash. I'd say that's quite enough—and none of it came for free. 😂💪 What scares me a little is just how much I enjoyed all of it... and that I discovered something inside myself that feels incredibly powerful. One thing is certain—this definitely wasn't my last adventure like this. 😄 Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who followed my journey, sent messages, cheered me on, or helped me in any way along the road. Your support truly meant a lot. And above all, I want to thank my parents. ❤️ Thank you for following every step of this journey, for supporting me from afar—both practically and financially—and, most importantly, for never trying to talk me out of it or stop me from going. I probably would have set off anyway, but knowing that you believed in me and were cheering me on the whole time meant more than I can put into words. Thank you all for being part of my journey. 🙏🚴🌍

Journey In Moments

Day-by-day photos and stories will appear here as Matyáš rides south.

📸 Follow @maty.pavek for live updates

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