This is my last blog post of the trip. Emotions are mixed af to say the least.

Warning, I’m gunna get deep and in parts sound like a very stereotypical self help book.

Beijing

We arrived in Beijing after the most pleasant sleeper train experience yet.

We had top bunks which, at least on Uzbek trains, would normally mean we were in for a night of inhaling dust and metal particulates.

But once again, the Chinese train system came through. The top bunks were right in front of the aircon which meant we could snuggle into the surprisingly comfy duvets for what was a great nights sleep all things considered.

Even the Sleepanator 6000 next to me caught 40 winks.

We then proceeded to spend the day in bed playing Switch. It was like being 13 again, waking up on a Saturday morning and doing nowt but play video games.

Beijing quickly began rolling by the window and we soon found ourselves gormlessly looking for the place our bikes had been hibernating for the last three weeks.

A few wrong directions and laps around the block later, we found the China Railway Express delivery office and our noble steeds were rolled out to us on a trolley like a few corpses from the morgue.

I apologise dear bike for shoving you in a box and leaving you alone in a cold warehouse.

Our arrival meant that there were now six million and two bicycles in Beijing. That was until Ludo promptly arranged for his bike to be sent to Nanning for him to pick up in a few weeks time ahead of a polite cycle to Hanoi.

Emotions in my head were starting to build at this point. I was sad that the trip was nearing an end and even more so that I’d have to say tara to Ludo, but I was equally excited to go to Melbourne, see my brother and his partner and then head home.

Hold those thoughts for now though.

I decided not to play DiDi roulette and instead just paid a bit more for a six seater which was guaranteed to fit the bike in.

We were staying in a hostel for the first time since Almaty. This was mainly because Beijing had astronomically high accommodation prices so our options were limited.

The hostel was fine. Clean, quiet, well-located if a bit soulless. It was a weirdly unsociable experience for a hostel. Pure silence, apart from when people used the bog. Then it was MG42 on CoD WW2 vibes. IYKYK.

It was located in a lower density neighbourhood of Beijing with older buildings around and lots of really pleasant lakes.

We spent our time cycling around the city, trying and failing to play Basketball and sampling incredible Peking Duck on the recommendation of Ludo’s super friendly ex-colleague Lucy.

Throughout my last day, the sadness within us both began to rise. Including some humanity-affirming anxiety from Ludo at being left alone for a month.

We recorded a final video and then the time came. A teary farewell, hugs exchanged, meaningful words written. An acknowledgment of the fact that we had spent the best part of four months in each other’s company 24/7.

To do that with a friend, alongside experiencing everything we had, is and always will be, a great privilege.

My negative, or shall we say, less good emotions were briefly subdued by my excitement about getting to see my brother and his partner in Melbourne.

I’d been once before when I was eight and the koalas had been calling my name ever since. Heading to the Crossman/Ludbrook household felt like an early homecoming.

The anticipation made the 11 hour overnight flight zoom by and that was that. A four month odyssey from Portsmouth to Beijing almost entirely over land with a friend that is so much more than a friend by my side.

My time on the Slow Way Round was ended.

Final thoughts

I’m writing this on a plane from Melbourne to London via Bangkok. I am about as emotionally confused as a human could be; tears, excitement, anxiety, contentment. You name it, it’s bouncing around the noggin.

It feels simultaneously like a seminal and mundane moment.

I’ve learned a lot and am eager to put that into practice in my life. It is also the end of what has been a life goal, to travel, ever since I saw my sister head off to India when I was about 15. My life has, in one way or another, revolved around needing to travel for a long time.

But at the same time, I’m going home to the same life I had before. Nothing has really changed.

Before we left, Ludo and I had hoped that travelling would provide some guidance in relation to our feelings of directionless.

I realise now that travelling hasn’t and never would have solved that fully.

I haven’t had any big moment of realisation or self-discovery. No Eureka! moment.

But I have really learned things about myself and others. Here’s three of the big ones that I’ve taken to heart;

1. The human experience is enriched by other people more than anything else. And that makes total sense.

Sure, exploring new and exciting places is great, but it doesn’t (at least for me) fill a void.

You can travel anywhere in the world (and we have seen a fair bit of it) but you will always come out of it valuing people more.

The people that matter to you add so much more to your life than any experience or location can.

Which leads me to…

2. Family matters way more to me than I ever realised.

Sure, when in the UK I liked seeing them. But I never really sat down and contemplated that there are a finite amount of people in existence that know who you are on a level that no one else does.

Just think about it, when you’re sat in a room with a close family member, it’s different to being in a room with a friend. There’s a different atmosphere, an understanding of one another built up from a unique and long history of shared experiences.

I want to bask in that way more than I used to.

3. Happiness comes from being content with what you have.

Jesus, it’s sounding like another self help book written by an under qualified 26 year old white man. But by Jove it’s bloody accurate!

This doesn’t mean being happy to accept the status quo, but moreso being thankful for what you’ve got.

Like appreciating how nice a simple walk, short camping trip in a rainy national park or time spent with friends can be.

Ludo is already quite good at this. But we’ve both realised that, although our lives at home may not be as exhilarating as cycling through a dark tunnel in Turkey whilst a lorry attempts an impossible overtake, they have a lot to like and find comfort in.

Remembering to be actively thankful for it is the part that matters.

Apologies if that was too barf inducing or airy fairy.

At the end of the day, Ludo and I have come to the conclusion that maybe long term travelling isn’t entirely our jam. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s been incredible and entirely worthwhile, but we’ve both come to value our home lives and a more conventional way of holidaying much more.

We’re thinking next time a place with a pool near the sea somewhere warm for a week or two.

Read book. Swim. Eat. Nowt else.

As Ludo meanders towards Vietnam, I’m heading home somewhat more confused about what to do next than when I left, but excited to make the most of what I’ve learned.

As Noah and The Whale say, L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N., Pompey will eternally live in Scum’s shadow and Kazakh train mistresses will always stick to their no bike policy.

Godspeed Ludovic Gardner. See you on the other side x