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Episode 22: Greek Food Journey

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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Greek Food Journey – Greece, DAY 63

After finding downtown Patras, Yorg drove me back to his place.

Yorg was a university student in Patras who shared an apartment with another roommate. His roommate had gone to his parents' home for a couple of days, so it was just Yorg and me. Yorg was quite hospitable—he invited his university classmate Sophie to his home and treated us to a Greek specialty snack called Souvlaki (σουβλάκι). It was a white wrap topped with so many french fries that they overflowed from the bread. The appearance alone was quite appetizing. Yorg said the classic element of this snack was the white sauce inside, made from a mixture of yogurt and garlic, which perfectly combined all the ingredients in the wrap.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #GreekCuisine #TravelFriendships #CulturalExchange #AITranslated

Episode 21: Goodbye Italy

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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Goodbye Italy – Greece, DAY 59

An hour before departure, I purchased my ferry ticket and sat with others in the waiting room, sheltering from the strong, cold winds assaulting the dock.

Most of those waiting for the ferry were truck drivers. None of them spoke English, but smiles and gestures are international languages, and my bicycle with its massive luggage beside me served as my goodwill ambassador.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #BorderCrossings #RefugeePerspectives #GlobalChallenges #AITranslated

Episode 20: Indecent Exposure

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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Indecent Exposure – Italy, DAY 59

After two days of rest, I felt much better. Next time I really shouldn't be so greedy—getting caught in the rain for half a day in near-freezing weather, it would be strange not to catch a cold.

Heading toward Brindisi, I found myself on the highway again, which I disliked the most.

Actually, cycling on highways is quite flat and comfortable, but the cars whizzing past and the monotonous landscape diminish the joy of bicycle travel.

A white van stopped on a small path in the field, adding a visual focal point to this remote, boring scenery. As I passed, I couldn't help but glance back: a man stood behind the vehicle, naked from the waist down, facing the highway and standing straight.

"What is this man doing?" I wondered silently, my heart skipping a beat.

I immediately turned my head back, facing forward and continuing to ride, hoping that guy hadn't noticed my glance. My heart began pounding harder and harder. I didn't dare look back, just pretended to be serious and pedaled desperately forward.

After riding for some distance, I was still safe on the road. I caught my breath and reassured myself that everything should be fine now.

Suddenly, a car sped past behind me toward an exit ramp, honking twice at me. Instinctively looking back, I saw it was the white van. The man in the driver's seat had his window down and was grinning lecherously, exposing his lower half to me. My brain felt like it had been hit hard—I had no idea how long this car had been following me. The blood vessels at my temples throbbed violently. I gripped the handlebars with all my might, repeating to myself: "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid!"

The sign indicated Brindisi was still twenty kilometers away. God! I still had to ride twenty kilometers on this road. I just wanted to escape this place quickly!

After a while, my heartbeat gradually calmed down. I tried to adjust my emotions, focusing on the distant road to divert my attention. A blue sedan parked by the roadside once again became the focus of my vision. Behind the car was a person—looking carefully, it was another man standing there, naked from the waist down.

"Damn! Damn! Damn damn damn damn damn!" My heart, which had just settled down, instantly began boiling again. I started screaming internally, completely at a loss for what to do.

Calm down! Calm down! Pretend this person doesn't exist. I'm going to pretend I didn't see him and ride past steadily.

I rode past, good! Don't look back, just like before. It'll be fine, it'll be fine!

"Beep beep!" A car from my left rear honked at me and drove to my left.

It was that blue sedan! He had opened the passenger window, but I decided to continue ignoring the car's existence, riding straight ahead.

"Go away! Go away! Get lost!" I screamed in my heart, but it was useless. He kept driving parallel to me.

My Swiss Army knife was in the hidden pocket on my chest. Perhaps I should take it out, but what then?

The blue sedan, due to its slow speed, was honked at urgently by cars behind, forcing him to speed up and move forward. Seeing him forced ahead, I immediately reduced my pedaling power to lower my speed.

The blue car was continuously urged by several more cars behind, forcing him to accelerate again. I watched the car getting farther away, inwardly cheering loudly!

"You bastard! Get lost!" I kept cursing in my mind. I was truly terrified and didn't know what to do. I could only pray for him to leave quickly.

The blue sedan kept being pushed forward by approaching cars and finally exited at an off-ramp.

This was truly a huge relief—the despicable fellow had finally left! Brindisi was approaching. I'd put in a little more effort to finish today's journey quickly. The adrenaline had already made my entire body tense and unable to breathe. I accelerated, pedaling hard forward, passing the off-ramp where the blue sedan had exited. I couldn't help but look down. The car was still there, and he must have seen me, slowly driving back up the on-ramp to the highway.

Now I couldn't move forward or backward; I could only continue riding with determination. At this point, the blue sedan returned to the highway, again behind me.

He tried to squeeze in on my right side, making me closer to the driver's seat.

The moment he approached, I made a sudden brake, allowing his car to continue forward, avoiding any possibility of getting close to that man. Now he was ahead of me again, and the approaching cars behind forced him to continue forward, so he exited the highway at the next off-ramp.

This time I had learned from experience and didn't speed up. Instead, I deliberately moved forward at a turtle's pace.

Sure enough, as I expected, the blue sedan seemed to grow impatient waiting below and drove back up, appearing ahead. When he discovered I was still behind, he wanted to stop at the on-ramp but was again urged forward by cars behind.

I realized he didn't seem to have the courage to do anything to me on the highway, but this harassment had already made my entire body tremble. I could only deal with it cautiously.

This cycle repeated several rounds. Sometimes he would still get behind me, but he only kept forcing his car closer. I could only continue pretending to leisurely move forward slowly, waiting for cars behind to push him forward again. My entire nervous system was stretched to the breaking point.

Finally, I reached the end of the highway. As I returned to the surface road, I desperately rode toward the city center signs, rushed into the crowd and traffic, stopped, and took out my phone, pretending to make a call.

The blue sedan passed by me at this moment, held down the horn, and turned right to leave.

I was safe! I was among people—this bastard wouldn't dare do anything to me!

My hand holding the phone was shaking, and my foot supporting me on the ground was also trembling violently. Tears began flowing from the corners of my eyes. I was truly frightened, but thankfully nothing had happened. I breathed deeply and quickly, trying to gather my emotions. Today's journey wasn't over; I needed to pull myself together quickly. The ferry to Greece at 8 p.m. wouldn't be delayed because of my sadness and fear.

Steadying my emotions, I went to a pharmacy to buy motion sickness medication. I recalled feeling like I was about to vomit my stomach out on the journey from Taitung to Orchid Island a few years ago. Back then, Kamil was taking care of me, so I didn't worry even when I vomited to the point of near unconsciousness. This distance compared to the Orchid Island experience would be "a small witch meeting a big witch," and I was alone this time. Despite knowing I'm prone to seasickness, something was wrong with my nerves that I still planned such a route. My heart weighed the decision between trying three methods—sea, land, air—and the physical suffering, with the former winning out. So now I had to face the consequences of this stubborn decision.

There was still plenty of time before the ferry departed. Now I needed to solve a few more problems.

I found a café to sit down, wrote a farewell diary entry to Italy, and published a blog post seeking travel fund support.

Before departing, I had estimated that my travel funds would be completely spent in Italy. I'm very grateful for the warm hospitality of Couchsurfing hosts along the way, allowing me to still have half of my budget. But the journey home had not yet reached even one-third completion, and ahead lay substantial visa fees. If I didn't quickly find a solution, the time to suspend my plans wouldn't be far off.

So I thought of an approach—initiating a sponsorship plan on my blog, from the perspective of paying to read my travel articles, hoping that people who enjoy these stories could support me in completing this journey together.

After posting the article, I wrote a letter to Kamil: "Hey, I just encountered a pervert! He followed me in his car for a long time. I was very scared, I just kept riding and riding, thankfully he finally left. I'm about to take a ferry to Greece. I'm already starting to feel seasick. I don't know what to do if I vomit until I pass out like last time. I've bought seasickness medication. I wish you were here."

After writing, I read it twice, then deleted the letter.

I was scared and wanted to cry out, but I was more afraid he would reply: "Riding to Italy is enough," or "You can return after reaching Greece."

I took a napkin and wiped the unceasing tears from my face. This was my own choice; I didn't want to complain about it. I just felt very helpless, with no one to rely on or hide behind. Besides, the next stage of the journey was about to begin, leaving no time even for self-pity.

Looking at the empty chair at the next table and the lazy, idle waiter nearby—the entire café had only me, just like this journey home.

Tears wiped dry, I forced myself to stand up again. Now, I had to face the problems of the next stage of the journey.

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Closing Remarks

✨ Your Turn: Have you ever encountered a threatening situation while traveling alone? What strategies did you use to keep yourself safe and escape danger? I'd appreciate hearing about your experiences and safety tips.

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "Goodbye Italy"

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #PersonalSafety #TravelChallenges #SoloFemaleTravel #AITranslated

Episode 19: The Surprise Room

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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The Surprise Room – Italy, DAY 57

My Couchsurfing host in Taranto, Marcus, was a German architect who had been living in Italy for seven years. He had purchased this building in Taranto's old town, which should have been three stories high.

Why do I say "should have been"? Because the structure had many mezzanine floors and a high-ceiling design on the first floor that extended straight to the roof, making it difficult for me to discern the different levels.

Marcus's living space was on the third floor, with minimalist interior decorations that gave the feeling of living in an exhibition space.

I slept in the spacious living room, with just a sofa bed and a TV cabinet without a television. Compared to other parts of the house, this area was relatively well-organized. The walls showed traces of cement repairs, displaying a new grayish-white tone that merged with the ancient brick-red and white wall surfaces.

Marcus had gradually acquired this house, which was nominally divided into pieces, from different owners. He was trying to restore the house to its most original appearance, but apart from the severely damaged structure of the house itself, there were still more than eight different property owners, all of which increased the complexity of the renovation work.

Marcus said the house had a history of at least four hundred years. Later, with changes in the environment and times, people gradually divided the house into many irregularly shaped small apartments. The structure was modified haphazardly by successive owners, leaving the house preserved in bizarre shapes.

However, almost all houses in Taranto's old town had suffered the same fate. On the second floor of the house across the street, you could see traces of a removed balcony and different colored cement on the wall filling in what appeared to be an arched doorway. Most of these buildings had been abandoned; people no longer lived in this old part of town.

Marcus enthusiastically showed me his masterpiece. We walked into a small room to the left of the first-floor plaza, where there was a square hole in the ground. Marcus said it was one of the first secret rooms he discovered, and he couldn't guess what it was used for. Curiously, I climbed down the ladder Marcus had installed and turned on the recently added lighting. It was a rectangular secret chamber about five meters high and three to four meters wide.

Next, we walked to the other side of the house and stopped in front of a staircase leading to the basement.

"This door was completely sealed off, and the original owner didn't know what was behind it. Thinking it might be a storage room, they simply gave it to me. I spent a lot of time slowly clearing this entrance and discovered it was a door of surprises," he said, leading me inside.

The staircase was now equipped with electric lights, making it easy to see the path and surroundings. This truly was a door of surprises—the stairs led to a spacious area that Marcus said his friend planned to turn into a dance studio.

This underground space had another path extending forward, ending in darkness. Marcus said he hadn't yet had the energy to renovate that area and didn't know where it led. It was rumored that the old town was connected to the castle by the harbor through secret passages—perhaps this was one of them. I imagined the scene at the end of that darkness, connecting to a medieval castle.

Next, we walked to another corner of the basement. Marcus shined a flashlight on a hole—another blocked staircase. Who knew what it might connect to below?

"This will be one of my major projects later," he said. "Judging from the shape of the opening, it's very likely a structure from the Roman Empire period, two thousand years ago. In Italy, especially south of Rome, you can easily find centuries or millennia-old ancient structures beneath buildings. They simply built new buildings directly on top of existing old ones."

I gazed at those ancient steps—this place was truly amazing! Like the protagonist in the story of Aladdin's lamp, exploring an infinitely extending underground world!

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Closing Remarks

✨ Your Turn: How do you feel about the balance between preserving historical structures and developing new ones? In your culture or experience, what's considered "old" and how do you relate to historical spaces? I'm curious about your perspective!

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "Indecent Exposure"

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #HistoricalArchitecture #TimePerception #ItalianAdventures #AITranslated

Episode 18: Just a Kiss

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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Just a Kiss – Italy, DAY 56

After saying goodbye to Stefania's family, I continued heading south.

Leaving Naples, a city rich in historical stories, was not an easy task. The roads displayed a mix of Roman-era stone pavements, years of deterioration, and traces of modern renovations.

My wheels would first roll over a short stretch of asphalt, then drop onto ancient Roman stone slabs, then tumble through countless potholes where the stone slabs had crumbled, then jump back onto stone slabs, carefully sliding over broken asphalt fragments.

These road conditions continued for several kilometers with no end in sight. My hands and backside ached from the intense vibrations. I could only smile bitterly and comfort myself by imagining I was riding on a boulevard where ancient and modern merged, experiencing the changes of time while traveling through them.

My Couchsurfing host in Salerno, Marco, lived in an apartment in an old building. Italian houses are built quite spontaneously, with residential buildings following the contours of the hills without any pattern. Marco's apartment required climbing up three flights of stairs, passing different households' doors, before reaching a cave-like dwelling.

Marco recommended that one must-see attraction in Italy was Pompeii, which I had just passed. I recalled Iginio mentioning this city on Mount Vesuvius, telling me it had been swallowed by the volcano two thousand years ago. So the next day at noon, I took a train to visit this ancient city.

At Pompeii's ticket entrance, the winter weather and rain had left the tourist site almost empty. A guided tour would cost extra, so I decided to pay just the eleven-euro entrance fee.

Just past the ticket checkpoint, I was greeted by a staff member who spoke fluent English, which was rare in Italy.

"Darling, did they give you a map of this place at the ticket counter?" asked the short staff member with a mustache.

"Um, yes, here it is." I looked and noticed that besides my ticket, the clerk had also given me a map.

"Good, darling, give me the map." He took the map, opened it, and pointed to a spot, saying, "We're here now. First, we can visit this area, and you'll understand what exactly happened in Pompeii."

I thanked this enthusiastic staff member, thinking how good Italian service was, telling you where to start right at the entrance.

Just as I was about to take back the map, I realized he was already leading me forward.

"Darling, do you see these tiny stones? These are limestone particles that erupted from the volcano." I followed the mustached man's hand and nodded.

"You see, these ash particles originally contained large amounts of gas. With the power of the volcanic eruption, they fell here and covered the entire town nearly two meters high. Look, you can see the coverage line on this wall." He took me to another ruin where I could clearly see a line on the wall separating two colors.

"So, many people say Pompeii was destroyed by volcanic lava, but that's wrong. In fact, the people here died from gas poisoning. The incident happened at night when people were sleeping, which is why we were able to excavate many people in peaceful sleeping positions. But these are just researchers' speculations, as no records were left to tell us exactly what happened. Now, let me take you to the next place." The mustached man still held my map and walked toward the next direction.

"Excuse me, wait a moment." Something felt off—this entrance service was too good, almost like a guided tour. To avoid misunderstanding, I decided to clarify. "I didn't pay for a guided tour."

"Ah?" The mustached man paused and looked at me again. "No problem, darling. After the tour, you can just give me a kiss here." He pointed to his lips with his left index finger.

"Um, sorry, I can't kiss you either." In Italy, I knew rejection had to be straightforward and direct—absolutely no Asian-style politeness, or they would think I was playing hard to get.

"What? Not even a kiss?" I saw his shocked and disappointed expression, as if saying this was such a bargain and I still refused.

"Yes, no kissing either." I thought my message was clear—if you don't want to lose out, then back off; I won't pay and I won't kiss anyone.

"Fine! Then a kiss here is also acceptable." The mustached man showed a helpless face and pointed to his cheek with his index finger.

"Um, not there either." Apparently in Italy, people will bargain with you even on this. I imitated him by pointing to my own cheek, then wagged the same finger at him several times.

We were at a standoff for a while until he finally spoke again: "Alright! No problem. Since you're a beautiful woman, I'll guide you for free today! Rest assured, I am a legal professional Pompeii guide." He showed me the badge hanging on his chest.

Of course, at the end of the tour, this kiss-seeking mustached gentleman hoped I would kiss his cheek. I figured this was also part of Italian farewell customs, so I gave his cheek a quick kiss as thanks for the tour.

Thanks to this guide, I learned a lot about the historical background. Pompeii was active from ancient Greek to Roman Empire times (400 BCE to early CE). From the houses, shops, installations, and art left in the city, it was evident that over two thousand years ago, this was a very wealthy metropolis.

After exploring for more than four hours, I reluctantly left when the park was closing at dusk. As a result, I was caught in the rain for half the day, soaked from my feet to my thighs.

Sure enough, the next morning I woke up with a splitting headache and had vomited twice. I decided to take a train directly from Salerno to my Couchsurfing host's home in Taranto to recover.

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📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "The Surprise Room"

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #AncientPompeii #HistoricalDiscoveries #AITranslated

Episode 17: Sweet Family

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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Sweet Family – Italy, DAY 51

Upon reaching Naples and contacting Federico's sister Stefania, I discovered I had a slight fever.

Stefania was a woman of elegance. Her husband Iginio was three years younger than her and the epitome of a good husband and father. Stefania secretly told me that when she first met Iginio, she immediately knew he was the man she'd been looking for—they shared common values about raising children.

They lived in a sixth-floor apartment. Across the hall was Iginio's brother's home, where his sister-in-law had just given birth to a beautiful and adorable baby. There was also a lively little dog in the house.

Entering Stefania's home, you arrived directly in the living room. To the right was the kitchen and dining area, with a television and several of their precious daughter Mati's drawings hanging on the dining room wall. On the TV screen was a sticker of Groucho Marx with his quote: "I find television very educational. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the next room and read a book."

The television was a housewarming gift from friends, but since they didn't watch TV and felt it would be inappropriate to regift it, they decided to hang it up as a decorative piece. Looking more closely at the drawings beside the TV, one depicted the Eiffel Tower, an elderly white-haired couple, and another couple holding the hand of a little girl.

Stefania explained that this was drawn by her daughter Mati. The white-haired elderly couple was her and Iginio, while the couple on the left holding a little girl's hand was Mati herself with her future partner, also with a little daughter. Mati felt her current life was so happy that she wanted to create a family exactly like her parents' in the future.

Next to the kitchen and dining area was a bathroom, and across from it a small room that served as the adults' study, filled with bookshelves, a desk, and a computer. Next to the study was their master bedroom, and beyond that was Mati's room.

"We've already agreed with Mati that during your stay, this room is yours," Stefania said.

I placed my luggage in the corner of the room, looking around at the princess-like bed and bookshelves, recalling the childish voice from our phone conversation and looking forward to meeting the little owner.

Soon after, Iginio brought Mati home from school.

Mati approached me like a little adult, very politely extending her right hand and saying in English: "Hello, my name is Mati. Nice to meet you."

Facing an eight-year-old girl, I was surprised by her formal greeting and quickly bent down to introduce myself. After shaking hands, Mati immediately reverted to being a little girl, shyly hugging her father beside her and smiling happily.

"Mati was practicing these two sentences all the way home," Iginio explained with a smile.

That evening, Iginio ordered pizza delivery and invited his brother's family from across the hall to join us for dinner.

At the dinner table, Mati often fixed her lively eyes on the conversation, waiting for the adults to give her a turn to speak. Sometimes when she thought of a new topic and got too excited, she would cover her mouth with her hands, widen her eyes, and wait even more eagerly. Iginio would always catch Mati's strong hints and find a gap in the conversation to let her express those imaginative thoughts in her mind. When Mati was happily holding forth, Iginio would pretend to faint from exhaustion, then joke quietly to me: "You know, an eight-year-old girl has an endless supply of things to say." Then he would turn back to listen to Mati and give her serious feedback.

I smiled in response, immersed in this atmosphere of happiness, enjoying the Neapolitan pizza.

The next morning, Stefania's family took me hiking up Mount Vesuvius. Iginio said it was an active volcano, and many geologists were currently worried because Vesuvius hadn't released energy for a long time, meaning a large-scale volcanic eruption might occur in the near future.

"If the volcano erupts, Naples, less than twenty kilometers below, will suffer severe damage over a large area. Many areas now designated as red zones—regions that would be directly affected by an eruption—have already been developed into high-density residential or commercial areas, yet the government hasn't imposed any restrictions. It's truly unimaginable what would happen then."

As I listened to Iginio, I gazed down from Mount Vesuvius at the rows upon rows of densely packed buildings in Naples.

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Closing Remarks

✨ Your Turn: Have you ever met a family that made you feel completely at home, even in a foreign place? What made that connection so special?

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "Just a Kiss"

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #Naples #ItalianHospitality #FamilyConnections #AITranslated

Episode 16: Monsters on the Road

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

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Monsters on the Road – Italy, DAY 49

After leaving Rome, I could clearly feel the change in culture and environment. The people here were like Taiwanese who spoke Italian—incredibly warm and loved to get involved in others' business, giving me a sense of familiarity.

#14000kmBackHome

Episode 15: Fashion Magazine

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where people love me, there is my home."

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Fashion Magazine – Italy, DAY 31

Upon arriving in Rome, I experienced my first traffic accident of the journey: a vehicle making a right turn somehow hit my right rear saddlebag, and the force toppled my bike.

As I picked up my bike in a disheveled state, the culprit had already vanished—this was my first impression of Rome.

After settling in, I received a text message from Stephanie, a photographer for an Italian fashion magazine. We had briefly met in Viterbo, and she was interested in my travel story. Her message asked when I would be in Rome.

"Yes, I'm in Rome now," I replied.

"Fantastic! I've already told the magazine about your story, and they're very interested. Would you be willing to spare a day for us to interview you and take some photos to publish in our fashion magazine?"

Appear in a magazine? And an Italian fashion magazine at that? There was no reason to say "no," right? But looking at my disheveled appearance, how could I possibly be featured in a fashion magazine?

"It would be my honor, but I'm currently traveling and look somewhat like a vagrant. I'm not sure if I can meet your requirements." In truth, I wanted to shout that I was willing—please make me look beautiful and put me in the magazine!

Stephanie called me directly, asking what clothes I had in my luggage. I described them to her, and she finally said, "No problem. Given the nature of the magazine, cycling clothes won't be appropriate, but just put on some makeup that day, wear black jeans, and bring your bicycle. I'll prepare some clothes for you. It'll be fine."

When I was originally packing my luggage, for some reason I had tossed my makeup bag into the saddlebag. From departure until now, this makeup bag had been lying at the very bottom of my saddlebag, never used. It seemed like "maintaining an army for a thousand days to use it for one hour"—it was finally about to serve its purpose.

I arranged to meet Stephanie after Christmas at the entrance of the Colosseum metro station in Rome.

So cool! I was going to be in a magazine!

At the appointed time, I dressed up as best I could, put on the jeans I wore when not cycling, and brought my bicycle to the meeting point.

Stephanie added a black leather jacket and a scarf for me, and touched up my makeup. She wanted me to strike professional or mature, feminine poses, but my mind went blank. After a few poses, I could only come up with funny gestures, making Stephanie laugh heartily, though after laughing she would still ask me to strike a normal pose. We changed locations several times, but I just kept repeating two or three poses. Eventually, not only were we both tired, but Geraldine, the interviewing journalist Stephanie had brought along, also laughed and said we were only changing backgrounds, not poses.

This feminine work was really not easy. Sigh! This might be the only time in my life to appear in a European fashion magazine! Why couldn't I think of professional model poses and movements? I should have taken more selfies routinely.

The weather helped out at this point, as a light drizzle began to fall. Stephanie decided to end the photo session and find a nearby place to sit down for the interview. Geraldine had already browsed my blog and written down many questions. As I answered her questions, I reflected on my journey so far—over a thousand kilometers ridden, seventeen families who had hosted me, several free heartfelt dinners, three instances of strangers giving me fruit, a cup of hot coffee from a stranger, and countless times getting lost and asking for directions.

A previous Couchsurfing host had once shared with me: "When traveling, you possess a kind of magic that makes people smile at you and extend their hands to warmly welcome and help you." It seemed I now possessed this magic!

When leaving Rome, I sent a text message to Stephanie and Geraldine, thanking them for giving me the opportunity to be in a magazine and for giving me a day to organize and remember my journey. Geraldine replied with a message that read: "Min, I want to properly thank you for sharing so many moving stories with me. You don't need to thank me; this is my job. I should be thanking you for giving me the opportunity to do such an interview."

On this journey, it feels like no matter how many thanks I send out, the gratitude always comes back. When I want to praise others, the praise circles back to me. Like a snowball getting bigger as it rolls, it becomes momentum that pushes me forward.

The more clearly I see my own cowardice, the more others call me brave; the more I recognize my own insignificance, the more I become a hero to some people.

"Perhaps so many people love traveling because it eliminates the viewpoint framed by screens. Actually connecting and communicating with people, experiencing and understanding things firsthand, provides the opportunity to open our mind's eye wider and expand our hearts to accommodate more incomprehensible things." I wrote down these heartfelt thoughts in my travel journal.

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Closing Remarks

✨ Your Turn: Have you ever revisited your past work or writing and seen it through new eyes? What did you discover?

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "Monsters on the Road"

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #WritersJourney #SelfReflection #ItalianAdventures #AITranslated

Episode 14: Italian Passion

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where people love me, there is my home."

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Italian Passion – Italy, DAY 27

After leaving Florence, I continued heading south through Italy. My body showed no signs of improvement—besides the endless fatigue, my limbs felt like cotton candy, soft and powerless. It was as if my body had disconnected from my soul. I wanted to keep going, but my body wanted to stop; I wanted to chat with people, but my body wouldn't let my mouth move; I wanted to properly appreciate the beautiful scenery, but my body seized every opportunity to close my eyes. I was like a deflated ball slumped in a corner—my entire physical shell no longer obeyed my commands!

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #ItalianHospitality #ChainOfKindness #Gratitude #AITranslated

Episode 13: The Empty Church

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where people love me, there is my home."

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The Empty Church – Italy, DAY 21

My Couchsurfing host in Florence was Stefano, a curly-haired man nearly two meters tall. He allowed me to rest comfortably at his home while he went out to work.

The previous day's mountain roads had drained every ounce of my strength, leaving my body like a sand sculpture on the beach, unable to exert even the slightest effort. Lying in bed looking at my computer, I felt afraid just thinking about how many more mountain passes I might have to face.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #HiddenBeauty #Florence #LifeLessons

Episode 12: Champion Mountain Road

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

--- Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where people love me, there is my home."

--- Champion Mountain Road – Italy, DAY 20

The next day, David enthusiastically accompanied me for a portion of the ride before returning to Bologna.

After saying goodbye to David, I began to face the long-forgotten uphill climb. My body had now mastered the technique of cycling, slowly shifting gears on different slopes to achieve easier pedaling. I could finally lift my head to appreciate the surrounding scenery rather than just looking down and cursing through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, I realized that cycling is really quite similar to life—when facing different roads and situations, you need to shift to different gears and speeds. Now, if cycling feels difficult and strenuous, adjust the rhythm, pedal a few more circles, ride slower—it doesn't matter. Just like in life, when encountering adversity, don't merely lower your head and resist until exhaustion; slow down, steady your steps, move forward one step at a time. Eventually, you'll escape the slope and, from a higher place, appreciate and experience different perspectives.

As the rhythm of my daily life slowed, my mindset also calmed down.

I began to notice the small stones beside the wheels, the wild grass sprouting through cracks, the sound of water sliding along the river, and even the wind brushing against my face—besides being bitterly cold, it also carried a hint of freshness and excitement. These ordinary things had now become the rhythm that made me happy, the motivation to move forward. Following this rhythm, I casually chose which roads to take, turning without hesitation as long as it felt like the right direction. I reveled in this carefree state, away from human development.

But this lack of planning sometimes led me into difficult situations. Now, I found myself on an orchard path mixed with mud and stone, desperately pedaling forward. Soon the path became steeper, forcing me to dismount and push upward step by step, testing the traction of Thomas's shoes on my feet.

I couldn't remember how I had entered this orchard. Ten minutes earlier, I had asked an old farmer for directions. He was enthusiastic but, unable to understand what I was saying, called an English-speaking friend to help. But that friend didn't know where I wanted to go, so the farmer called another friend. After the farmer understood the directions, he explained them to the English-speaking friend, who then explained them to me over the phone.

Whether due to language barriers or my comprehension issues, I now found myself stuck on this muddy slope, unable to move forward or backward. My shoes were half-buried in the mud, and my bicycle, seemingly working against me, kept sliding downward with all its gear, not allowing me a moment's rest.

By the time I pushed near the top of the slope, my strength was nearly depleted. Just then, a dog barked. Looking up, I saw a building ahead, with the owner poking his head out from the balcony, noticing my struggle to keep the bike from sliding backward.

With both hands supporting the bicycle, I couldn't wave, so I shouted: "Excuse me, I'm lost. Is there a road ahead that I can take?" I wasn't sure if he understood English—based on my experience these past few days, the chances were low. But from the Italian words flowing from his mouth and his rich body language, he seemed to be enthusiastically giving directions, gesturing toward what lay ahead. I interpreted this to mean there was indeed a road ahead!

Sure enough, after pushing a bit further, I returned to a paved road, instantly breathing a sigh of relief. I realized how contradictory I was—one moment wanting to escape human footprints and run into nature's embrace, the next feeling reassured by the black arteries humans had created on Earth. I sat by the roadside for a short rest, replenishing water and having some snacks, letting my limbs rest. They were trembling slightly from overexertion.

After finishing the apple David had given me, I grabbed my bike and continued forward. I needed to get back on the road before my body cooled down. In this weather, staying warm was crucial—I had to be careful not to catch a cold.

Today's Couchsurfing host was in Florence, the birthplace of the Renaissance. But today's cycling route didn't seem as appealing as the city I was heading to. Facing an endless uphill road, I laboriously pedaled slowly. Despite developing some muscle over the past two weeks on the road, I still couldn't handle such a long, continuous uphill. Alternating between pushing and pedaling, I finally reached the top, cheering enthusiastically at the downhill ahead.

Glancing at the odometer on my handlebars, I realized I had climbed about fifteen kilometers of continuous uphill. My physical strength and muscles felt like deflated balls—soft and powerless.

Well, that's okay! Now comes the downhill!

Happily letting the bike rush downhill at full speed, enjoying the fruits of my previous efforts, but soon another major uphill appeared. My legs could no longer bear the gravity of the climb, forcing me to dismount and push the bike up.

What followed was an endless cycle of downhills and uphills, and I continuously alternated between cycling downhill and pushing the bike uphill.

The sun had hidden behind clouds at some point, and the surrounding scenery changed. The originally poetic and beautiful views along both sides of the road, which could be gazed upon from above, now gathered fog. Soon after, they formed what looked like an endless sea of clouds, rolling and surging magnificently. I felt as if I had suddenly jumped into a massive, living painting, with only my front wheel and the black highway occasionally visible through this breathtaking sea of clouds.

My heart stirred with these waves, imagining my role in this painting—so tiny, yet simultaneously merged with the scene. How marvelous!

Just as I was inwardly cheering, the white surges rapidly engulfed the black highway, and my vision was instantly swallowed by dense fog.

This was bad! Visibility was less than a meter. I couldn't see the road, oncoming vehicles, or where I was. The sky darkened quickly, and I was still on the spine of the Apennine Mountains. Realizing this, my pulse began to race violently, my palms cold yet slightly sweaty. I could imagine what darkness would be like, its force already enveloping my heart before its arrival.

Finally, it got completely dark, but the fog showed no sign of dispersing. I wanted to find a place to rest, even set up my tent to get through this exhausting day. But stopping made me so cold, and I had eaten all my food. My stomach was desperately demanding from my brain, and energy was rapidly draining from my feet. I didn't know how much longer this road would be, and I was already too tired to move. Accompanied by hunger and fear, my brain was completely knotted, thoughts spinning rapidly, imagining a nauseating liquid continuously expanding in my heart. I had no ability to calm down and think about how to escape this predicament. My willpower was rapidly disintegrating in the darkness. I couldn't control my emotions and stopped in the dense fog to cry loudly. With hands supporting the bike, tears and mucus covering my face and neck, I could only occasionally wipe away the liquid clinging to my chin with my gloves. After crying for a while, standing seemed pointless, so I began walking and crying.

In the midst of despair, my body developed an automatic function, unconsciously carrying me step by step forward, step by step trying to break free from this darkness. Through the dense fog, a car stopped, and the male driver asked if I needed help. There was also a woman holding a child in the car.

"I need to go to Florence, but I can't ride anymore," I said, barely controlling my sobbing.

The man looked at my bicycle and gear, then at his car.

"I'm sorry I can't help you, but I know this road very well. Just hang in there a little longer. After a few more hills, there will be a continuous major downhill that will take you all the way into Florence," the man said.

Hearing this, hope ignited in my heart. I thanked him profusely and watched his taillights disappear into the fog.

"Okay, keep going! Just a few more slopes until the downhill." After clearing the mucus and tears from my face, I continued pushing the bike forward, telling myself to endure five more uphills!

But after five downhills and uphills, I encountered yet another uphill.

Three more, then! I continued to tell myself. I had lost count of how many sets of three I had encountered, but the final hope became the motivation to move forward. Almost there, almost there, just hang in a little longer, almost there!

That long-awaited downhill finally appeared in a small town, next to a bar with an old man smoking outside. I excitedly cheered loudly and, taking advantage of the gradually dispersing fog, slid downhill for over ten kilometers, finally reaching my Couchsurfing host's home in Florence.

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Closing Remarks

✨ Your Turn: What wisdom have you discovered during difficult times that later became meaningful to you? I'd love to hear your stories!

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "The Empty Church"

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #LifeLessons #PerseveranceStory

Episode 11: Something I Never Dared to Dream

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

--- Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where there are people who love me, there is my home."

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Something I Never Dared to Dream – Italy, DAY 9

I stopped at noon and pulled out two bananas from my backpack for lunch. Three more remained at the top of my food bag, which I planned to save for an afternoon snack. I had bought them that morning from a fruit shop for 2.5 euros, and I felt quite proud of this expense—I couldn't imagine a more economical plan!

#14000kmBackHome #cyclingjourney #UnexpectedConnections #CrossCulturalMoments #AITranslated

Episode 10: Language Confusion

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

--- Part 1: The Plan Chapter 3: I Love Italy "Where there are people who love me, there is my home."

--- Language Confusion – Italy, DAY 6

The train ticket from Innsbruck to Brennero (already an Italian city) cost 7.8 euros, with an additional 2.6 euros for the bicycle. Travelers heading to Italy needed to change trains at Brennero and purchase the next segment of tickets from the Italian railway company.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #LanguageBarriers #CommunicationBeyondWords #ItalianAdventures #AITranslated

Episode 9: A Gift from heaven

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman’s Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 2: Toward the Alps "Let go of the extras you want, and you'll find you can carry everything you need."

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A Gift from heaven – Austria, DAY 5

Following the directions given by the young policeman, I found the Inn River and rode along its bike path into Innsbruck.

Because I didn't reach Schwaz as planned the previous day, I missed my intended first stop, so Jarek—originally meant to be my second couch host—ended up being my first.

#biking 14000kms back home #cyclingjourney #14000kmbackhome #serialstory

Episode 8: The Freezing Spell

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman’s Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

--- Part 2: Into the Alps "Let go of the extras you want, and you’ll find you can carry everything you need."

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The Freezing Spell – Austria, Day 4

Early in the morning, the old man woke me up for breakfast.

Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I looked out the window to see a world blanketed in white. Snow clung to the wooden frames and glass, making it hard to imagine what it would have been like if I had spent the night outside.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #PersonalGrowth #LifelongLearning #AITranslated

Episode 7: The Weight of Loneliness

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 2: Toward the Alps "Let go of the extras you want, and you'll find you can carry everything you need."

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The Weight of Loneliness – Austria, DAY 3

After dinner, I returned to the attic, took a long, hot shower, and slipped under the covers. There was no heating here, but compared to the freezing air outside, it still felt much warmer.

I picked up my phone, wanting to send a message to my boyfriend, Kamil, in Beijing— Something I had promised him before I started: to check in every day. From the beginning, this journey had been planned as a ride from Germany to Beijing—to reach him. But now, there wasn't even a single bar of signal.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #FacingLoneliness #InnerStrength #SerializedBook #AITranslated

Episode 6: A Warm Dinner

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman’s Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

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Part 1: The Plan Chapter 2: Toward the Alps "Let go of the extras you want, and you’ll find you can carry everything you need."

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A Warm Dinner – Austria, DAY 3

After crossing the border marker, the road conditions changed noticeably.

Austria's road signs clearly indicated elevation levels and distances along the mountain route. I followed the bicycle signs, weaving through forests and gravel paths, with patches of unmelted snow piled up on both sides. The increasingly steep incline forced me to push my bike forward slowly.

#14000kmBackHome #CyclingJourney #UnexpectedKindness #CulturalEncounters #SerializedBook #AITranslated

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