Pour Me A Story, Vol. 62
cycling around the world with Lisa Achatzi
greetings friends, and welcome back to Pour Me A Story. it’s been a while, huh? more than six months, to be exact, since edition 61 hit inboxes. to trot out an exhausted cliche, but in a genuine fashion, I hope this finds you well.
it’s been a busy year since you last heard from me (in these pages, at least). a few weeks after the most recent newsletter went out, a few of my good friends and I hit Memphis for a very easy bachelor party weekend, then August brought a quick weekend trip to New York City to hang with my cousin (and make amends for my last visit to the Big Apple, where my back failed me in a major way.)
The seafood festival rolled around again in September for its 13th annual weekend and we dodged hurricane fears to have ourselves a pretty damn good event. and a mere month after that, Alex and I threw a little party for 70 or so of our closest friends and family and tied the knot here in Denver before heading to New Mexico for a quick honeymoon getaway.
as surreal as it was to hang out with my buddies from all walks of life in Memphis over the spring, it was even more of a trip to see all my family from Australia interacting with my nearest and dearest friends and Alex’s family in the one space here.
in any case, it was someone else’s adventurous year (or years) that provided the catalyst for me to dust off my Substack password and crank the newsletter up again. so enough about me, let’s get into that shall we?
Anyway, We Have Company
this edition’s guest is someone I’ve known for a long time. more than 15 years, in fact! I met Lisa Achatzi on my very first trip to the U.S., which I may have mentioned included a 25-day coach tour from Los Angeles to New York, traversing the southern parts of the country with 49 or so other foreigners looking to do as much drinking as possible in that time span.
Lisa was one of my fellow passengers and, unfortunately for her, one of a small handful who were over 18 but not at the legal age to drink in these United States. I’m certain we managed to sneak the younger members of the crew into the odd bar here and there across the course of the tour, but there were definitely points where they had to sit out the boozing.
anyway, I’ve sporadically kept up with Lisa via social media in the ensuing years, and my attention was truly piqued over the past couple of years when I realized Lisa was on an even more outrageous journey than the one we met on. I knew I had to get the full story, and I’m so glad I did because it’s equal parts enthralling and heart-wrenching. I’d be first in line to buy a book if she decided to go that route. anyway, let’s hear it from her!
Content warning: the following interview includes references to sexual assault.
Adrian: First of all, would you introduce yourself to our readers and tell them all about yourself?
Lisa Achatzi: Hi! I am Lisa, a 35-year-old German who loves exploring the world. When I am not out there traveling, I am using my creativity to help create change in this world by working as a social media manager for NGOs or social businesses.
AC: Now let’s take it all the way back. Have you always dreamed of riding around the world? How did the idea come about and what was involved in planning and pulling it off?
LA: To be honest, I don’t really know where the idea came from. It just popped into my head out of nowhere. It’s not like I had been following bikepacking accounts on social media or that I have always been passionate about cycling. The first bike trip I had ever done was cycling the U.S. west coast in 2015. I had once again quit my job, sold everything I own and was on a backpacking trip that started in Canada and was supposed to go as far south as my money would let me.
I had lived in the U.S. for a year back in 2007 when I was an au pair, so I had seen a fair bit of the country – also thanks to a crazy Contiki trip haha. So I wanted to do something different to bussing down the west coast and somehow, out of nowhere, the idea of riding a bike came to my mind. So I left my backpack with a friend in Vancouver and crossed the border with only two plastic bags filled with some clothes and electronics. In Seattle I went to an outdoor shop, bought everything I thought I needed or learned I needed and then cycled 2,800 kilometers (1,700 miles) along the coast. I didn’t even know how to fix a flat tire back then…
AC: Can you give us a rundown of your journey, where it took you and how long you spent riding?
LA: Thanks to Covid, this is a bit complicated, but I’ll try. I left Germany in August 2019 and took a plane to Medellin, Colombia, with my bike. Flying with a bike is actually quite easy and sometimes even free, depending on the airline. I then spent seven months cycling 10,500km (6,500mi) through Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Argentina and Chile. Once I reached Ushuaia, literally the end of the world, Covid got declared a pandemic.
Since Covid arrived to South America a bit later than Europe, I was very naive and thought I could just keep on cycling. My plan was to hitchhike up to Buenos Aires, hop on a ferry to Uruguay and continue with the plan. And then it all happened very fast and about two days later I found myself in Germany. Two years passed. Two tough years, but at least my bank account was being fed, and that brought new options along… I could extend this trip. And of course Pamir Highway, the Mount Everest of bikepacking, came to mind. So the plan was to “finish” South America and then head east.
In April 2022 I left again to reunite with my bike, which I had left with a friend in Buenos Aires. (Again, I was that naive that I thought I’d have to go home for three months and then return, once the world was back to normal. Covid was laughing at me back then, knowing it would take 24 months.)
So I picked up where I had left things and took the ferry to Uruguay. From there I cycled through Bolivia, Paraguay and Brazil. Then I took a flight to Spain, cycled from Barcelona to the very south to hop on a ferry to Morocco, cruised around Morocco, then took a ferry to Italy, cycled around there and left my bike for a month to spend Christmas with the family. Then yet another long ferry ride to Greece.
In Greece I volunteered for nine weeks on the island of Samos with a grassroots NGO called Samos Volunteers. They support refugees and asylum-seekers on the island. From there I took the ferry to Turkey. Unfortunately my plan to cycle towards Pamir Highway was crushed by the (still ongoing) protests in Iran. But this is a luxury problem compared to people risking their lives to fight for basic human rights. So I took a plane to Uzbekistan, then cycled from there to Pamir Highway in Tajikistan, continued through Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan and then hopped on a plane back to Turkey. From there I cycled to Greece, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia, Croatia, Slovenia, Italy once more and then Austria and “home” to Germany.
All in all it was 32,615 kilometers (20,266 miles) through 25 countries on four continents.
AC: I know that coming home after just a few days away from the responsibilities of day-to-day existence feels like a tough change. How has it felt to transition back to what one might call “normal life?”
LA: I think only people who have been on a long trip, especially a bike trip, can really understand, but I’ll try to explain! When you finish a trip, there is no transitioning phase. You cycle to your final destination, get off the bike and then it is done.
After years of watching the kilometer count on my bike computer rise, all of a sudden it is over. A huge achievement, but also a part of your life. All of a sudden you’re sleeping in a house, in the same bed, every night. In the morning you don’t have to find a bush, you just go to the bathroom and do your business on a toilet. You can take a shower whenever you want, and you don’t really have to do the “how many days can I survive on the food and water I have?” math.
For a month I kept waking up at night, with my heart racing in panic, because I didn't know where I had left my bike and why I was in a house and not my tent. I also had moments where I was simply overwhelmed. I went to the supermarket in Berlin on a Saturday afternoon, and it was packed with people. I wanted to get some oat milk. As I was standing in front of the shelves filled with what felt like thousands of plant milks, I felt panic rising. It was all too much. Too many people, too many noises, too many options.
And then you have to build up that “normal life” again. Job, place to live, furniture… Find a new/old routine while questioning if you actually fit back into this “normal life.” But of course it is also amazing to see friends and family, to have the luxuries of a bathroom, tap water, tofu and other vegan stuff and being able to cook oven-roasted veggies.
AC: On the subject of coming home, how did your friends and family handle having you gone for so long?
LA: In the very beginning my parents were so scared! I have been on long trips before and I had the round of goodbyes before, but this time I could tell by the looks on their faces that my parents were worried big time. My dad wanted to gift me a survival class, and he wanted to buy me a GPS tracker. That’s how scared they were. And I get it… I am their daughter and even though I am not cycling a kiddie bike with learning wheels anymore, to them I will always be their kid.
But I didn’t want a GPS tracker on me and I knew that a survival class would be too much (I also watched a lot of Bear Grylls, so I am sure I know a few things haha), but we agreed on a GPS app that updates the location when you have an internet connection. But I think a month into the trip we all deleted the app after realizing that it is so easy to get a SIM card and that there is actually better connection than in some parts of Germany.
I also tried to warn my parents when I knew I would be in the middle of nowhere for a few days and chances would be higher that there would be no connection at all. So they were more relaxed as time went by. Also I am a person that puts a lot of effort into friendships, so I kept messaging and updating my friends and family. But I guess in the end they are all happy I am back!
AC: One thing that I loved about following your adventure on Instagram was that you never sugar-coated it, and you were incredibly brave in speaking out about your more unsavory experiences, including surviving sexual assault during your ride. We don’t have to discuss that, but would you be open to discussing what it was like to put your trust in strangers all around the world as a woman riding solo?
LA: Thank you! Yeah, it annoys me so much to see big Instagram accounts of people traveling the world and they only show the happy clappy parts. Traveling, and especially traveling solo and by bicycle, also means tough situations. It means that you will have problems you didn’t know you would have, it means you see things and realities that are not “instagrammable.” And it means you go through a lot of ups and downs. Since I am a very emotional person, I am very open about those moments.
Back in 2020, when Covid got declared a pandemic, I wanted to hitchhike over 3,000km (1,800mi) to Buenos Aires. Nobody really cycles the east coast of Argentina, since it is all pampa (ed: grasslands) with little to no civilization, but a loooot of headwind. After the first truck that gave me a lift for the first 350km, another truck driver stopped and said he was going all the way up to Buenos Aires. I couldn't believe my luck.
We stored my stuff under the truck in a locked compartment, tied my bicycle to the truck and started the ride. At night the driver, Ernesto (I still hate saying or writing his name…), insisted on me sleeping in the driver’s cab, even though I wanted to pitch my tent next to the truck that was parked in the middle of nowhere, along the road that had near to no traffic. He got really mad, so I agreed to sleeping on the mattress behind the seats.
All of a sudden he was in bed with me and then the worst moment of my life happened. I was sexually assaulted by this man who I had to depend on the next day because I was in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t have water or food, so there was no way I could have cycled hundreds and thousands of kilometers towards Buenos Aires. Almost 24 hours after the assault he dumped me in the first town at a gas station. I had to wait for a bus that couldn’t take my bike, so I had to leave it behind and trust the promise it would be sent a few days later by cargo. I made it to Buenos Aires and got dumped into the whole Covid panic with big decisions to make: to fly home or to stay and outwait this thing, decisions my brain was simply not able to make.
I ended up flying home and suffered through PTSD. Luckily my therapist had a spot available for me and I could start therapy straight away. A lot of people reacted in a way that hurt me and made things worse. Like “Oh well, but he didn’t rape you, so it really isn’t that bad!” or “It could have been worse. He could have killed you!” or “Well next time maybe don’t hitchhike, you are a woman!” Trust me, a victim of sexual violence always blames themselves, you don’t have to blame him or her and make it worse. So I wanted to speak up about it, so people learn, but also to speak up for people who have not yet opened up, who cannot open up or who don’t want to open up.
The worst part about it was that I wanted to be the living proof that traveling solo as a woman is possible and that it is safe. But then I realized something: The assault wasn’t the first or the only situation with men that I wouldn’t have been in if I was a guy. There were moments before and there were situations after the assault. But all of those things could have also happened to me in Germany, living a regular life. When you go on a trip, you are always a bit more aware of pickpockets or tourist traps. But as a woman, traveling solo, I am not more aware and cautious about situations with men that could be dangerous than I would be back home in my everyday life. And THAT is the issue. And THAT has to be heard and understood, especially by men.
And even though it is “not all men,” for some reason every woman I know has at least one story of a situation with a man that made her feel uncomfortable or not safe. So I won’t stop raising my voice, even though it is often painful.
AC: You rode through some gorgeous parts of the world, but you also must have faced some difficult conditions in less welcoming countries and environments. Can you tell us about how you found the mental strength to push on even in those tough moments?
LA: I have this strong belief that there is more good than bad in the world. And even though I had moments that crushed this belief, I had way more moments and encounters that proved it. Also through all my travels I learned that life goes on. Even when you are in a situation that seems to be an unsolvable problem, you will get to that point where you look back and say “holy shit, I made it.” And I am very, very grateful, that I got to experience all of those moments.
AC: Your ride was to raise money and awareness for Samos Volunteers. Can you tell us about the organization, how they supported you on the ride and what makes their mission so important?
LA: I always knew that I am very privileged to own a German passport and that I am able to just quit my job and travel the world, so I wanted to at least try to do something good while living this luck. So I created “Wheels Of Fortune” and raised over €25,000 ($26,000 USD) for NGOs such as SOS Children’s Villages, UNHCR, Sea Watch and Viva Con Agua. Ever since I knew I would be cycling east and therefore passing through Greece and the Greek islands, I wanted to volunteer with an NGO supporting refugees and asylum seekers on outer European borders.
I had taken so many ferries across the Mediterranean Sea while there are several hundred thousand people crossing that sea every year to seek a better, safer life. I ended up volunteering for nine weeks with a grassroots NGO called Samos Volunteers on the Greek island of Samos. Samos is very close to Turkey, so there are a lot of people arriving on the island and right now the camp has reached 200% of its capacity. This shows that, even though we all know that there have been people crossing seas and walking for weeks and months, risking their lives for a better life for years and years, this is still going on!
The living conditions inside the refugee camps are simply horrible. People are being treated like criminals, they just sit and wait for their asylum or refugee applications to come back and sometimes they end up being stuck in limbo for years and years. Samos Volunteers has two community centers, one in town and one by the camp (which is located 7km from the town of Vathy). At Alpha Center, the community center in town, people find a safe space to just relax, meet others, have a cup of tea or coffee, play chess or card games, do activities like drawing or Origami. They can also have their documents printed and find help with any sort of question. It’s a place where they can get psycho-social support.
Right next door Samos Volunteers has set up a free shop. Twice a year, in summer and winter, every person living inside the camp can go there and pick out a set of clothes. The free shop really looks like a hip boutique and since people go there one by one, they regain basic human rights and dignity and can choose whatever they want to. At Alpha Land, the community center close to the camp, people can take language, music, computer and sports classes. There is also a volleyball pitch and a gardening project. Samos Volunteers is a small NGO, run on donations and run entirely by volunteers, but the work they do, the change they create and the people they support is so important and huge.
AC: I’ve unintentionally focused on some of the more serious aspects of your ride, so let’s brighten it up. Can you tell me about your top five moments from the ride, the absolute most magical or memorable experiences you had along the way?
LA: I had Covid when I was in Brazil. Bear with me, this will end up in a magical, memorable experience! I was confused why the last 20km of a 160km day, which isn’t much to me, felt like I was cycling up a wall. I went to the nearest hotel to have a good night of rest, only to wake up with Covid symptoms in a hotel way above my budget (€35/night). So I reached out to a man that had stopped me on the road a few months back in Paraguay, who had invited me to stay at his house while he was away. He had mentioned that he knows some people in Brazil, so I tried my luck in this shitty situation.
A few hours later, through a friend of a friend of a friend, I had the number of a woman who lived in that town and was willing to help me out. Miriam - an angel of a person - came to my hotel every single day of the 11 days I was positive, to bring me fresh fruit and veggies and even home-cooked meals.
– One time I was wild-camping in the middle of nowhere in Chile, next to a salt lake and some flamingos, at around 4,000m of elevation. During the night I woke up and I had to pee. I was so mad at my body, since it was -10°C (14°F) outside. But my bladder was like “now!” so I crawled out of my tent and when I looked up I saw the most amazing night sky. It was the most scenic piss I have ever had haha.
– Being adopted by an Ecuadorian family in Quito who took me to a baby shower with their huge family. There were 50 Ecuadorians and one German crammed into one small living room, competing in crazy games such as skulling a beer out of a baby bottle, putting diapers on a doll while talking on the phone or pretending to be giving birth to said baby doll.
– Saving multiple kittens, dogs and a turtle along the way, especially this one puppy I found in Montegro, who was so happy to see me, who knew I would help him. He was obviously lost, hungry and scared. I put him in my tote bag and cycled a few kilometers with him hanging off my shoulder. I found a man in a car who knew that the dog is a hunter’s dog and that he knows the hunters in the region. He took the dog and promised me he would find its owner.
– In general I would say the kindness of strangers - and that list is so, so long. It blew my mind how people would just stop to give me something to drink or a snack, invite me to their homes or stop everything they were doing to help me out of a tricky situation.
AC: Apart from your bike (obviously), what were the pieces of equipment you absolutely couldn’t live without during your ride?
LA: Peanut butter. Hahaha. My water filter, for sure. Combined with my platypus bottles that hold two liters but take up no space, since you can roll them up, water supply was no big issue. Definitely my hub dynamo, which I could recharge my phone with while cycling, and also my phone, since it was often the only communication tool I had. I was able to communicate with friends and family, tell them I am still alive, get support when I was feeling down, but also to use Google Translate. I speak English, Spanish and French, but my Russian or Tajik vocabulary is about as big as a six-month-old baby’s haha.
And also a proper camera. I don’t care that it takes up room and weighs more, but in the end photos and clips taken with an actual real camera are still better than photos taken with a phone.
AC: I think you deserve a long and relaxing vacation, but I have a feeling your adventurous spirit won’t let you stay still too long. What’s next for your Wheels of Fortune?
LA: My bank account is kind of forcing me to stop for a while haha. Also I have a few fundraising events coming up. I edited a movie about my trip and hopefully a lot of people will come and donate for people on the move on Samos. For now I will enjoy all the things I didn’t have during the trip, but with me you never know. When I will quit and sell everything again to leave again? You can take Lisa away from the adventure, but you cannot take the adventure out of Lisa. The list of places I want to go never gets shorter, even though I “tick things off the list!”
PS: My fundraiser will be running until Christmas. I don’t know, but maybe some people would like to donate? In that case, you can find it here.
Parting Note
that was awesome, huh? what a tough act to follow. so tough in fact that I will refrain from adding any kind of song here, in a break from tradition (also I forgot to ask Lisa what song she’d like to include here.)
thanks as always for joining me here and hanging out in your inbox for an hour — I hope you guys enjoyed reading Lisa’s story as much as I did.
stay well until next time we cross paths!
— adrian ✌🏻