(English below)
La route c’est ma maison et quand il pleut rien ne sèche, alors à la moindre éclaircie, le bitume est mon meilleur ami.
Quant à l’hygiène du voyageur à vélo, on en parle? Les chaussettes et culottes lavées au robinet, séchées sur le guidon en roulant. Les habits qui toujours pas lavés sont désodorisés au soleil, tout comme le voyageur. Il sent pas très bon, le voyageur, mais il est libre. On y revient, ce fameux compromis entre confort et liberté. A vélo, souvent le premier est faible le second est grand; apprendre à se trouver entre l’un et l’autre, dans quelque chose de plaisant.
Je dis le voyageur, mais c’est la voyageuse, on est d’accord. Elle a juste décidé de ne pas toujours avoir besoin de se définir. C’est vrai ça, en anglais « I’m happy » ou « I’m dirty » ne nécessite pas d’être genré. Et sur la route parfois, j’aimerais bien ne pas l’être, genré, je m’en suis aperçu lorsque je me suis surpris dans mon français à parler de moi au masculin, sur un « je suis content » qui m’a échappé.
Voilà. Il y a des jours où je suis content, et d’autres où je suis contente, c’est comme ça.
Mais le plus souvent, je ne sens pas très bon.
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The road is my home
The road is my home, and when it’s raining, nothing dries. So at the first ray of sunshine, the asphalt is my best friend.
Did we already talk about hygiene of the cycle traveler? Socks and panties drying on your bike handlebar after being cleaned from water under a tap. Some clothes not cleaned for ages but deodorized in the sun, as is the traveler. The traveler doesn’t smell very good, but is free. We are back to that dilemma between comfort and freedom. Bicycling, often the first one is huge, the second pretty much tiny; how to learn about yourself, to know how much you need from the one and the other. Mostly, how to be happy with that.
Interesting fact, in french, when I want to say « traveler » I have to say either « voyageur »or « voyageuse », depending if I am a man or a woman. I do need to define my gender to talk about my travelling stories. I just noticed it, speaking for a couple of day mostly in English and German, and then being back to french. I surprised myself talking about me times to times with the words I should use if I were a man, for exemple saying « I’m Happy » with the male form (« je suis content »). I was actually a bit confuse and a bit angry. Confuse because I notice that cycling alone in the balkanic area, not feeling totally safe sometime to be a woman alone, I worked on my « male character » to find some confidence, to feel strong and not afraid, and that this character took some importance on me and on the way I was talking about me in french. What I found pretty funny to be honest, that’s crazy how the brain can work on your temporal identity.
And a bit angry as well. I never really had a feminist heart before, grown up in judo, then being a rock climber. In those sports, you are not a man or a woman, you are a judoka or a climber, and that’s all. Of course in sport men are stronger than woman, but the experiment of it is peaceful, no judgment. You just know it. It’s like that. Cycling and travelling as well are different on the point of view of physical strength, emotional dealing, having your periods, but shouldn’t be different on the way people look at you – stare at you – or interfere with you. It’s what gave me a bit of angriness. That I learned to deal with, to tame it.
So, some days, you know, I’m happy as a man (« Je suis content), and other, I am happy as a woman (« Je suis contente »).
But as a traveler, most of the time, I’m just dirty and smelly.
Notes de voyage 