Everybody is looking for something, some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you
Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) – Eurythmics

I wanna hide the truth, I wanna shelter you, but with the beast inside there’s nowhere we can hide. No matter what we breed, we still are made of greed
Demons – Imagine Dragons

Trying to get up but the doubt is so strong, there’s gotta be a win in my bones
Freedom – Anthony Hamilton and Elayna Boynton

La mia casa è una stazione, la mia vita è una partenza, gli orari le paure. Oltre quella linea gialla, è proprio lì che c’è camera mia
Camera Mia – Eugenio In Via Di Gioia

Cantaré come canta un cieco, cantaré come un tuono nel cielo, perché vale oro questa vita che grida da sola mentre canta in un coro
Cantaré – Mannarino

It all started in July with a ferry from Ancona to Bar, Montenegro 🇲🇪. I got there with a friend, with a rough plan to bike across the Balkans, but without a precise destination. We decided to leave the coast immediately, heading inland and straight into the wild beauty of Montenegro’s mountains. Durmitor National Park, with its dramatic canyons and peaks, was one of our first deep dives into the raw Balkan wilderness. While camping by Lake Sušičko, tucked deep in a canyon, we woke up in the morning to a damp chill and thick fog that muted the landscape in a muffled silence.

Crossing our first border brought us into Bosnia 🇧🇦, where we were welcomed by the Tara and Drina river gorges, and where we immersed ourselves in a country with a complex history you could definitely feel. It’s a striking place, a true crossroads where diverse cultures and religions live together creating a fascinating, sometimes delicate, mix. Sarajevo is a city that leaves a mark, surrounded by intense landscapes still bearing the scars of the recent past. Despite all that, it was the warmth of the people that perhaps left the deepest impression. The open, generous welcome we felt from everyone we met truly made our time there special.

Next up was Croatia 🇭🇷. We were mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the Plitvice Lakes, and then we followed a spectacular stretch of Eurovelo 8 down to Rijeka and finally Trieste 🇮🇹. That’s where my friend and I went our separate ways. He headed back home and I embarked on my solo adventure. Slovenia 🇸🇮 immediately felt like a paradise for a mountain enthusiast like me. The Alps here are less famous than their Italian neighbours, but felt far more authentic, offering incredible scenery without the usual crowds. I explored eagerly, zig-zagging between peaks and valleys, hunting down the most beautiful spots: Soča Valley, Vršič Pass, Kranjska Gora, Lakes Bled and Bohinj, Logar Valley. These were just some of the places that simply left me speechless.

I’ll admit, I was worried about leaving the Alps for the flatlands of Hungary 🇭🇺. But it ended up being one of the nicest surprises of the entire journey. After cutting through a small part of Austria 🇦🇹, I picked up the off-road Hungary Divide route. Suddenly I was deep in silent forests, tackling short, sharp climbs, and enjoying being almost completely alone. The freedom to wild camp peacefully wherever I wanted was amazing. Budapest was the icing on the cake: a vibrant, welcoming city. I ended up staying ten wonderful days, waiting for new bike tires, but honestly, I could easily have stayed much longer.

Back on the move and heading north again, I rode into Slovakia 🇸🇰. By now September had arrived, bringing colder weather and rain. “Why am I still pushing north?” I wondered. It was clearly time to change direction, so, from Slovakia, I pointed my compass south. Cutting across Hungary again near the Ukrainian border, I entered Romania 🇷🇴, and the trip shifted into a new gear. The Carpathians aren’t the highest mountains, but they are vast and boundless, largely wild places with few roads or marked trails. An unforgettable hike in the Rodnei Mountains delivered the most stunning sunrise of my life, made even more magical by the almost supernatural Gloria effect (or Brocken spectre), seen from the summit of Mount Ineu (2279m), the national park’s second-highest peak. Yet, beyond the landscapes, it was the people who made Romania truly special. The intriguing cultural blend with the Hungarian minority, the genuine hospitality, and the great warmth of the welcome – maybe amplified because I come from Italy (given the strong ties many Romanians have with Italy) – created instant and strong connections.

The Romanian adventure continued through Transylvania. I tackled legendary mountain roads like the Transfăgărășan, with its dizzying switchbacks, and the Transalpina, the highest road in the country, whose stark, barren beauty completely won me over. But it wasn’t all smooth cycling and the challenges were real. The biting cold at night (with temperature dropping to -3°C with my summer sleeping bag only rated for +9°C) took some serious adaptation. And then there was the constant presence of bears. Often finding their fresh tracks on the trails, like still-warm droppings, was a frequent reminder that they were around, and why I’d bought that can of bear spray back in Budapest. I remember one night at Pasul Rotunda, hearing what was definitely two bears moving through the woods right outside my tent, one on each side. Thank goodness I’m a pretty heavy sleeper!

After a full month in Romania, I crossed the Danube into Serbia 🇷🇸. Autumn was well underway, days were getting shorter, and the cold was pressing harder. My main goal now was simple: head south and escape the winter. A quick ride through a corner of Bulgaria 🇧🇬 brought me to North Macedonia 🇲🇰, where I found enthusiasm and warmth, a relaxed atmosphere, friendly towns and villages, and beautiful rolling hills and mountains. The highlight was spending three days around Lake Ohrid. A UNESCO site, a place of breathtaking beauty, an ancient, crystal-clear lake known for its pearls, nestled among mountains and dotted with monasteries. Cycling into the area through Galičica National Park felt like cycling through a painting, with the forests exploding with autumn colours.

In Albania 🇦🇱, I chose a route winding through the northeastern mountains near the Kosovo border. It led me onto an “absurd” road: a ribbon of asphalt, twisting endlessly, often in terrible conditions, climbing and descending with no clear logic through remote valleys, deep gorges, and landscapes that felt isolated and untouched by time. Here, hydroelectric dams have turned the river into spectacular artificial lakes. On Lake Koman, I took a boat for a slow, peaceful journey, surrounded by steep, forested mountains going right down into the dark water. It felt almost dreamlike, a trip of incredible beauty.

And finally, I returned to Montenegro, closing the loop in Bar, exactly where the whole adventure had started four months earlier. The final twist? It was November now, and I discovered that the ferry to Italy only ran during the summer! No big deal. One last route change took me back into Albania, cycling down the western shore of Lake Shkodër to reach Durrës. From there, I caught the ferry that brought me to Bari, back to Italy, in just a few hours. I’d set off in July without a destination in mind, but the road had given me an adventure beyond all expectations. On that ferry, along with my bike, I also brought back a precious load filled with experiences, memories, and emotions gathered on the road.