When Paul Fowler decided to undertake a massive bike ride across Europe little did he know what he was taking on. Paul, from New Zealand, and living in Broome WA, had recently turned 30 and felt he had a statement to make about living with cystic fibrosis (CF).
This time last year I didn’t own a bike. In fact, I probably hadn’t even sat on one for the 15 years prior. I’ve never been a big fan of cycling, partly because of bike pants, but mostly because my legs are smaller than a 10 year olds’ arms, and cycling is hard work. For this reason, it was a surprise to me that one night late in 2015 I found myself unable to sleep and becoming increasingly obsessed with the idea of flying to Europe, getting on a bike and riding it from one side to the other.
At the time, I was nearing the end of my days as a 20-something-year-old and, while the idea of turning 30 may fill most people with dread, it was a much anticipated occasion for me. Not because I like finding new grey hairs on a daily basis, but because of a Readers’ Digest article I read when I was 12. The article was about CF and it told me that I could expect to live to 30, if I was lucky. Until that point I don’t think it had dawned on me that what I had was so serious, or permanent. But at that young age I made a decision that, not only was I going to live past 30, I was going to do something significant to mark the occasion.
I spent the few months after that sleepless night planning, saving and fundraising, and on August 18 last year I found myself at the start of the Eurovelo 6 cycle trail in Nantes, France. I was feeling very apprehensive on day one, probably because my ‘training’ had consisted of three rides around Broome on a little girls’ bike, occasionally involving the humiliation of being overtaken by actual little girls on their own girls bikes. But, after a few obligatory selfies, I made a start and after a few hours I had 50km behind me and I’d arrived in Ancenis – stop number one. The next day I managed 80km before setting up my tent for the night. That was to remain my daily average for the next two months as I followed the Loire River throughout the French countryside, the Rhine through Switzerland, then met up with the Danube in Germany and rode alongside as it grew and lazily twisted through Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria and to its mouth at the Black Sea in Romania. Ten countries and 4,000km in all.
I cycled with my 20kg of luggage through major cities such as Vienna, Budapest and Belgrade, through the quaint villages of France, past Europe’s largest waterfall in Switzerland and even picked up a girlfriend in Germany. I rode past thousand-year-old castles, through stunning river valleys and vast fields of corn, over seemingly endless hills and across the borders of countries that were not so long ago at war with each other.
I faced physical challenges such as getting lost on a regular basis (at times cycling up to 20km in the wrong direction), the constantly changing languages and (I’m sorry Europe) awful coffee, the rough and busy roads as I got further east (not to mention crazy drivers and frequently having to share those roads with horse driven carts), carrying my bike up hundreds of steps after cycling 135km through rain one day, and even cramping up completely in 40 degree heat.
I usually try not to worry so much about my health on a daily basis, but I’ll admit that before setting off I was scared about ending up with a nasty infection somewhere in the back-blocks of Eastern Europe. However, I can’t remember a two-month period where I’ve had consistently better health. Ever. Even on the days I woke up feeling a little rough, the fact that I had no choice but to get on the bike, meant that I was forced to push through, and within an hour I’d usually forgotten about it and was feeling great again. This, aside from raising over $20,000 for CFWA and the desire for bigger legs, was the real reason for my trip. I wanted to prove, as much to myself as to anyone else, the importance that remaining physically active plays in fighting CF, and I’m now more convinced than ever.