Name: Antoine Febvre
Born: May 19, 1965 in Colorado, USA
Education: Bachelor of Science in Computer Science
Profession: software engineer, world-biker
Hobbies: woodworking, furniture restoration,travel, biking
Previous bike trips: Ireland, Scotland, Sweden, Holland to Turkey via Bosnia & Bulgaria, Greece to Holland via Cyprus, Israel, France & The Canary Islands
Author Profile
Less
More
Author Archive for antoine
The long beautiful wide and majestic Danube river stretches itself lazily along the border between Romania and Bulgaria for kilometers, before throwing itself into the river delta and finally into the Black Sea. Many stories have happened along this river. Many lives have been made and some hurt or destroyed. As for many places in the world, here on the Danube, it becomes more peaceful as the sun sets in splendid array of deep color.
How do you start a story about a boy and a man? Badlands South Dakota, USA. I am flying through the air. A game of frisbee with my brother, in the abandoned hills and forests of the north, my head racing towards the rocks. Crash! Dizziness, dazed… The world seems different after such an impact. Stillness. Ice. A snake farm. All memories of the first of the many impacts that have shocked my body and life, time after time after time, year after year.
Continue reading ‘From south to north’
It seems like such a long time ago that we boarded ship and crossed from Tarifa to Tanger, Spain to northern Africa. Perhaps it was not so long ago, but the cultural gulf that we have crossed makes the days of remembering the Rafaelo seem like ages ago. First northern Africa, then enterning the third world via Mauritania and finaly and most colorfuly, into black Africa.
The sound of wind rushing, blowing… Hour after hour after hour… Time has no significance… Only wind… heat… One of my first memories, driving through the Mohave desert of Nevada, the car window of our old blue Chevrolet, speeding through the desert, open only a few centimeters. Sand as far as I can see.
Sometimes I look up in the sky and marvel at the fact two brothers from just over a century ago invented both, the modern bicycle and the airplane. The airplane, they invented on the quiet beaches and dunes of South Carolina. I visited there as a boy. The first place an airplane ever flew.
Our hotel room in Dakhla is fabulous. Of course only I would say that. One of the balconies has a view out over the palm trees by the promenade and the shimmering Atlantic Ocean. The other balcony has a view out over the Dakhla airport. Nice! Really nice! With a short walk up the stairs to the sunny rooftop, I watch fighter jets and helicopters taking off and landing. Ok, so the shower is only a tiny dripple of water. The music blaring from the street below keeps us awake late at night. But… The sound of blaring jet engines, United Nations airplanes taking off and landing, the occasional smell of kerosene… make up for these things.
“Que no te pasa nada.” These are the words of an old woman as we stop along the side of the road to buy a couple pieces of fruit or a vegetable. This is a blessing she is giving to us, that no bad thing may happen to us as we travel. She has only seen us for a moment when she sais this. An old woman in typical spanish clothing. “Grathias”‘. Perhaps she is a mystic and does not even know it. This is a small village in central Spain. We have now arrived in Africa and the blessing she has given us follows us as we make our first days together on this new continent.
This is a short story about a long story, a really long story. As a matter-a-fact, this story started at the end of September, just before we left for “The Departure Take 2″ in early October. What happened is that we had some equipment we needed for our trip, stuck in the United States.
Continue reading ‘The story of a package’
And so it is that we have started riding again. This time it is different though. We have given up our house and all of our stability, sold most of our belongings, pointed ourselves south, and have started riding. Our home is now the tent above our heads, the fire-station we are sleeping in and the field below the stars that we happened to have found for the night. Although we have done this before, this time, it feels different, really different! Almost as if somehow we know that this time it is for real. No more broken bones, no more hesitation! We are heading out to meet the world.
Continue reading ‘The First Time I Saw Africa’
