Some Cycling to Bhutan Surprises

I spent 18-months cycling to the country of Bhutan on a journey that oozed happiness. Here are eight things that might surprise you about that journey.

1. Only 8 punctures

Yes, that’s right, on my way to Bhutan by bicycle, in which I covered 20,000km and climbed up many thousands of metres, I had just 8 punctures. My first puncture didn’t happen until 7,000km into the trip.

2. Forget GPS – real paper maps are better

For the first 6 months I navigated across South America with real paper maps. Old school.

Most cyclists I met navigated with GPS. I was excited when I bought my first ever smart phone in Costa Rica, 6-months into the journey, as I thought life on the bicycle would be easier and happier. It wasn’t. On the first day riding with GPS, the suggested route took me down an unrideable road. This happened a lot when I relied on GPS. There was one time when the GPS directed me a long way down a road that took me to a large river that had no bridge on it.

But what I loved more than anything about paper maps as I cycled through, was that they invited in connections. I’d stop and ask for directions much more often and people engaged with paper maps in a way that they couldn’t with a phone. In some parts of the world, I met people who might not have seen a map of their lands before, and their fascination was electrifying. And of course, more connection means more happiness.

3. No helmet and no insurance

This might concern some people more than it surprises them, but hear me out. I wore a helmet for the ride to Spain and the first few days in Argentina. Then I stopped wearing it. As for insurance, I didn’t bother to get any.

Why no helmet? Several reasons: First, they’re annoying. Second, I ride differently without one – slower, and more mindfully. Third, other road users are likely to treat me differently because I don’t wear a helmet – generally giving more space and going slower.

Fourth, and for me this is the most important reason, a key part of my journey was connection. I am certain that without a helmet, which locals don’t wear riding bicycles, I was more approachable. On this point, I did whatever I could to not look like a cyclist – minimal lycra and tight-fitting garms, minimal gadgets, maximum smiling…

As for insurance, well, it’s an industry that aims of make as much money as possible, and the more fearful people are the more money that industry makes. It’s not about equitably spreading risk.

So, I took a risk. To insure myself on my journey would have cost into the thousands of pounds. Yet, the world isn’t that scary, and when things do happen, as they did to me, for example during the life-threatening incident in Peru (I’ll give no book spoilers here), a way gets figured out. It’s worth considering that most of the people I met along the way wouldn’t have been insured, so why should I be? Again connection and relatability come in as important for me…

4. No full stop

This is my favourite one. I wrote the entire first draft of my book about my journey to Bhutan on a laptop that had no functioning full stop key. The laptop was 5 years old when I set out for Bhutan, and it came all the way with me, but somewhere along the way the full stop key stopped working. When I wrote the book about the journey on it and needed a full stop, I’d copy and paste one from another sentence.

5. Most happy among the least happy

I tracked my happiness across my entire journey and of the 25 countries I pedalled through, the country I was happiest within was also the least happy country on average – India. I experienced a lot of connection in India – people were friendly to me, intensely so. It was difficult when seeing people’s daily hardships, but I felt more gratitude for my own life and gave what I could. There were no major journey hiccups in India and it was also the last country I journeyed through before I entered Bhutan. And so I beamed.

6. I was desperate for a publisher, but I’m glad that I didn’t get one

I admit it, I wanted to go down a traditional publishing route with my book. However, trying to do so was a painful process – it wasn’t like the academic world of countless article rejections, but instead stony silence and non-responses from numerous agents and publishers.

However, I now realise that the book might have been very different. It’s likely I’d have been under pressure to make it more commercially viable and that would have undermined the key ideas in the book. I might have had more reach, but at what cost? Self-published books are often perceived as being of lower quality and are therefore disregarded by many but judging by the reviews so far that’s not the case. I’ve sold about 700 now…there are still some left

7. Not about Bhutan, nor about cycling

If you’re worried that the book about my journey is just about gear ratios and big hill climbs, then think again. Yes, cycling is part of it, but fractionally. The book is about someone, probably not too dissimilar from you, trying to figure out how to live a happy life – sometimes there are ups, often there are downs – it’s raw, it’s honest, and you will relate.

8. None of my family have finished reading the book yet

Yeah, I can’t believe this one either. Maybe they’ll at least read my blog and calling them out like this will give them a little jog. Funnily, my Dad keeps recommending the book to people without realising how much he features within it.

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Thank you for reading this article. If you’d like to read similar articles on journey info tips and advice then go here.

And if you’d like to get deeper into happiness with me then consider getting my book A Journey For Happiness: The Man Who cycled to Bhutanorder here.

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