I share the rain

A week ago we pedaled 65 kilometers; but not any 65 kilometers. We packed up all our belongings, said goodbye to Playa del Carmen, and rolled to Tulum— where we planned to park while we finished some pending paperwork. Despite the delay and this pause that we will make at our first stop, we can already smell certain traits of the adventurous breath. The federal highway is such a familiar route, and one that I do so routinely by car, that I know every point and every bridge almost by heart. But that day he painted a different color. Or maybe it's me who saw it with different eyes.

"When it rains I share my umbrella. If I don't have an umbrella, I share the rain"

—Enrique Ernesto Febbraro

That day we shared the wind and rain with Guillaume and Elisa, a couple of French cyclo travelers recently arrived in Mexico, who have been pedaling from Brazil for a year. We met by chance the morning before having breakfast at a market in Playa. They came to sit at the next table, their equipped bikes drawing our attention. I do not think that these types of occurrences are pure coincidence, but that we are more receptive to a world that perhaps at another time would have gone unnoticed. That is, we are the ones who now see with different eyes.

Right in the middle of the road is my favorite cenote, where we decided to take a short rest and a small tourist detour. The magic of this cenote is that no matter how many times I have visited it, it always changes and renews my experience. A lot will have to do with the company we run and the different mixes of energy we bring to bear, but it always leaves us all in awe and speechless. Enjoying it so much for the umpteenth time reminded me that as eager as I feel to embark on new horizons, I am also excited to travel familiar lands with new eyes and familiar faces. At the end of the day, the joke of traveling is not only discovering different places, but becoming aware of our gaze, our presence, and the way we interact with the environment in which we find ourselves.

Since we began to devise the trip, what has intrigued me the most are the people with whom we will meet on the way and share little bits of life. I think of cycling as an experiment to create community — weaving in all those who influence and are part of the experience, in one way or another. Listening to people contemplating the idea of ​​turning their lives around to start with us has not only been exciting, but it has done something extraordinary to me. Realizing that there are those who dare to join a plan that has no plan or direction is quite encouraging. The 65 kilometers from Playa to Tulum may sound relatively few or crowded — but more significant than the accumulated distances are the souls that we are attracting, and that this newborn community is growing.

Of course, the time we spend in Tulum will help us to catch hold and strength with the bicycle, but it will also give us the space to reflect and thank all that we already have, and with those we already have around us. And well, we don't necessarily have an umbrella to offer in the meantime ... but we can always, always share the rain.

Thanks Cris and Yeni for the caravan and your company !!