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Panamericana, km 6.547: Going home


The Panamericana was the hardest voyage I’ve ever done. Even island hopping in the most remote places of the Philippines was usually way much easier. Sure, ten weeks are by far not enough time for even just the few spots I visited in seven different countries. First, Copa Airlines denied the transport of my kiteboard after 7.5 hrs in their hotline. I had to buy a split board. Then Condor lost all my other baggage for three weeks – thanks for the 490 €!

My laptop’s display broke right after the start when trying – but unfortunately not finishing – a backflip from the top bunk bed. The external replacement monitor i bought was good for many laughs in cherished places when cursing the almighty inavailability of an internet connection. For the first time in years of travelling my webdesign clients had good reasons to be angry with me.

Costa Rica was the most expensive out of my 80 visited countries. I spent 2.500 € for absolutely no luxury basic travelling in one month. All the Eco-friendliness and green image turned out to be a strictly bullshit advertisement campaign. Still: in some places, colourful, even green magic happened.

Honduras left me to watch carnivore-fenced fortresses out of a darkened minivan’s window. For the third time in all my voyages I was too scared to prove the brutal stories I had heard to be wrong.

Both my backpacks were wrecked, and the wheels of my kitebag broke down, leaving me to carry up to 45 kg on my back through some endless lasting border crossings at 35° Celsius.

Over 6.500 km at a never expected low average speed of about 45 km/h gave me almost 150 hours of movement in rikshaws, taxis, minivans, boats, ferries and countless busses, often standing for hours in anchovy-style.

Would I do it again? HELL YEAH! Over and over again! I’ve met more beautiful friends than on any other voyage before. You’ve inspired my mind, fed my soul, rocked my heart, shared your lives, made my days and danced with me through darkest nights until twilight. And even if we got lost sometimes: it was all part of the way to the places we live in now.

We are travellers:
We have heard.
We have seen.
We have learned.
We stay alive.

I thank you all for being the best part of my voyage! Whenever you’re heading to Bavaria: take a break amidst 2000 years of history in my home town Regensburg! You’ll always be welcome as long as I’m home, have a place to crush, excellent food and beer, as well as your private tour guide. It’s redemption time!

P.S. With this voyage I’ve earned the right to grin and slowly poor the last half party-surviving bottle of warm beer over the first person’s head that dares to ask me how my „holidays“ have been. You’ve been warned.


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