Sitting on a lawn to enjoy a warm sun and the breeze in the Botanic Gardens evening in Christchurch, finally free from the needs to close the bags and pack the bike, I think back to the last two months and to what i'll keep with me...

...nothing, basically. And everything! This is the great contradiction a trip hides. It is also the main point of debate that animates his fans and detractors.

At the end of these two months (but I could also say this year) I do not have anything in hand: I have no solid future, I do not have a stable job, I don't have a girl, I don't have a family and i have no certainties. I do not have a six figures bank account  and i don't drive the latest cars that mercedes or bmw have launched (I have not even idea what they are, telling the truth!). But I have accumulated (not only 90 gigabytes of photos) an infinite number of memories, friendships, encounters and magical view of our beautiful and ill-treated planet. And nobody can take them away, no one can delete them from my mind (less than an amnesia, it would be the most devastating thing that could happen to me!).

I remember, thus:

the first image that will jump to my mind is that of the taxi driver at the airport who redirects me to the location of the shuttle bus to let me save some money. So the beautiful heart of Auckland with warm and friendly people (from the cheerful German hostel receptionist to the Brazilian looking for work ... and luck), and yet ... the seek of a bicycle under a gray sky and annoying rain; the first day on the saddle, long more than what kilometers and hours say. The first relaxing bath in the thermal pools of Miranda. The two Italians who, anxious, stop themselves to help me while I'm resting on the road in the hills between Tauranga and Rotorua. The overflowing and powerful force of nature that shows irrepressible in thermal areas around Rotorua. The nervous and isolated dirt road toward the lake Waikaremoana. The first two cyclists travelers met on New Zealand roads, a Swiss couple in a year tour on two wheels. The storm, the first between Waikaremoana and Wairoa. Napier, the orchards and the art deco. The endless hills between Esk valley and lake Taupo. The Tongariro NP and incredible encounter with a couple of ... my neighbors (or almost)! The 42nd Traverse with two Dutch i'll meet again in Dunedin and Mt. Cook. The Whanganui river road and the settlements of Jerusalem, Athens and Corinth. The mt. Taranaki covered by clouds and the beautiful hostel in mt. Egmont village with the owner, an ex-cyclist who has traveled the country from north to south in 15 days. The Queen Charlotte track in MTB and the sound journey by boat. The two Belgians, Didier and Angelique, who i will meet more and more times between Nelson and Punakaiki. Kayaking in Abel Tasman N.P.. The Nelson Lakes N.P. under another storm that made me surrender to travel the Rainbow valley. Murchinson and the stage along with two Germans. The West coast, from Westport to Haast through the pancake rocks, magical lakes and glaciers Franz Joseph and Fox. The millions of sandflies, insects just like mosquitoes but much more aggressive. The insistent rain to Haast. The Haast Pass and the lake Wanaka. The Aspiring NP, the Rob Roy glacier with a splendid sun and a kea flying around. Queenstown meeting with Kazoumi, Japanese rider environmentalist. Mavora Lakes and the wind up to Te Anau. The Milford sound, first under the rain, then with a summer sun. The south coast and the two Canadians met in Napier (they have made the Rainbow valley, what envy!). Invercargill and the odd Italian-Austrian pair, calm and big eater. The Catlins coast, Curio bay and the yellow-eyed penguins. Dunedin, Otago peninisula, the albatross and the generous rider that brings me on the right path when I lose on the outskirts of town. The Taieri gorge railway. The central Otago rail trail, punctures, broken chain and meeting with Elizabeth, 70 years old cyclist who in the past two years has traveled about 6,000 km on foot and 10,000 by bicycle! The wind and Lindis Pass where a cyclist in training keeps me up and offers me a drink to escape the heat. The most disastrous and heroic stage, from Omarama to mt. Cook village at 6-8km/h under heavy rain. The attempt to dry the tent the same night and waking up in an amphitheater of peaks and glaciers revealed with the departure of clouds. The mt. Cook, a strong and constant presence for a couple of days. The re-meeting with the Dutch left wounded on central Otago rail trail (she fell because of the wind). The lake Tekapo meeting with Andy, flying Australian. The Arthurs Pass, a will i need to take off. Kaikoura, a hard navigation, whales and dolphins. Christchurch, preparations for the return and... much, much more.

This is what remains: nothing, for you reading (and i ask you to forgive me for this), a whole world for me writing. And i write a bit for not forget, because it is true that the memories do not erase, but it is also true that with time they cover of dust. This article will be useful more to me that to you, like sponge to clean them off every now and then, perhaps helped by a bit of images.

Thank you for your patience ... and forgive, for once I wrote more for me than for others (in reality I always do it, but sometimes i mask it better)!