You know what? I’m just a tiny wee-lil’ bit mad, and sad, and tired. There are also a bazillion tons of other emotions trailing behind so I won’t list them all. And there are many reasons to them. The first? Well, someone tried to kill me.
I am still in shock and have decided to cut my journey short.

It is a difficult decision. This journey across the world was a dream I had nourished for many years, despite not knowing I would one day do it in bicycle. It is a way I have lived in for close to ten months, going from barren planes to isolated mountains to wild and lush forests to amazing people’s houses and all over again. It is a hope and a dream I had wanted to instil in others. A dream and a feat that I wanted to show other women could do.

Four days ago, I was attacked. I was enjoying the flatness and the tailwind of Romania up until I decided to make camp for the night, trying to isolate myself from neighbouring villages because everyone had warned of the dangers of stray dogs there. They work in gang, they do. Suffice it to say I had found an isolated spot below some trees, visible only from a bicycle path which no one seemed interested in using for the few hours before I went to sleep. The morning greeted me without dew and I thus quickly packed up all my stuff in hope of getting some distance done before the heat. However, as I was hauling my panniers to the bicycle path to attach them to my bicycle, an unsmiling, twenty-ish girl cycling along, stopped. She looked me over and began inquisitively asking questions “Who are you?” “Are you a shadow? Why were you in the bushes?” “Do you even know what country you’re in?”.
She didn’t seem friendly, but I kept my happy and forthcoming demeanour and answered her questions so that she would feel reassured. The thing is, things got worst. She said we weren’t in Romania but in Sweden, that I didn’t even know where we where and so on. This was one of the first things she said that gave me an inkling of her being “mad”. Her tone slowly drifted from being inquisitive to being aggressive, asking me for my papers, then my phone, asking to prove that I was a girl and not a shadow, saying she’d call the police–which I begged her to do. For at least ten minutes, I tried to explain my situation but it was no use. She was completely out of touch of reality and her arguments were all but rational, making mine worthless “You say your papers are in your bags, but I’ve lost mine, so that means you stole them from me!”. She declared I was a shadow, coming from the bushes. And a rat, because I supposedly stole from her.
After ten minutes of fruitless reasoning to diffuse the situation and of me trying to just go, she decided that “You are a rat and a shadow, I have to kill you” (her words). Then she attacked.

I will not relate the fight. Its details are still fresh and raw and are painful to recall. Suffice it to say that she got very violent and that she indeed tried to kill me, though she was unarmed. I kept my composure and managed to defend myself, giving me enough time to attach my last panniers and fly away.

It has now been four days. I rode non-stop from Romania to Serbia where I got an hotel, then on to Budapest where I’m now staying at a hostel. I have taken the decision to abort my journey. The decision does have a bitterest taste, a little like if you drank your tea while leaving it infuse all night. I am sadder than you can imagine to take it. But I know this is the right one, because I feel this is what I need.
It is not about strength, or character, or force of will. I am convinced I could pursue my trip and make it till the end (wherever that may be). I have withstood harsh moments before. I have been in dangers before, from humans as well as animals or nature itself. But this last episode, by its sheer violence has broken something. I do not know what. Some magic, some thrill of adventure, some craving for discovery and culture. But whatever it might be, I will need time with family and friends to mend it.

Pursuing the trip right now would be meaningless, not unlike playing the violin without a bow. Sure you can do it to an extent, but honestly you’re missing the point.

Also, I’m a bit mad because I had this great idea of a blog post I would do at the end of my trip. I had it all planned out, its name, a few phrases and all and I oh-so-dearly wanted to know how it would end. Now I know, though it is not how I imagined it. Once I come back home, settle a bit, I will write it. Hopefully leaving a less sorrowful note as a last update on this blog.

Before that though, I will also update you with all the amazingness I saw since Sofia.

With love,

Chloé and Mia