The humble bicycle, I am convinced, is a vehicle that can return us to our true nature. At thirty years old, against all sensible advice, I dropped a successful business in website building and pedalled from my back doorstep in Ireland to the Himalayas. My route took me across Europe, Turkey, Iran, Pakistan and India. A commitment to pedalling every overland inch of the way resulted in eight thousand miles of chaotic highways and tranquil country lanes, of freezing winter-bound mountain passes and steaming tropical jungle paths, of endless empty desert crossings and the streets of densely packed third world metropolises. As I typically found myself in places well off the tourist radar, I often stayed at the mercy of local inhabitants; with Kurds in goat-hair tea-houses, with respectable Iranians and their opium loaded Shisha pipes, with Afghanis in dirt-floored desert roadhouses and even in the luxurious palace of a desert king and ex-Pakistani president. The endless solo hours of contemplation brought fierce challenges to my conditioning. Breathing draughts of fresh air into expanded lungs, pedalling the bike day after day, my old ideas of who I was gradually crumbled and I began to feel more awake and alive than ever before. With no capsule around my senses, from the saddle I got to know the world and its people in intimate ways. For me, the journey was a time to be reborn, a nine-month gestation period during which I learned to trust the human soul, no matter in what colours it came decked. This book is for anyone interested in real-life adventure, long-distance bicycle travel and the search for unconditional freedom.