Alessandro De Bertolini tells of his journeys across continents, driven by curiosity and adventure. He shares with us the values of freedom, family, inner discovery, and international solidarity.

Tell us the story of your latest journey.

A continent passes under your pedals, just 20 centimeters from the soles of your shoes. Mongolia, China, Tibet, and Nepal: from the Altai Mountains to the Gobi Desert, from the Yellow River to the great plateaus, from Gansu to Qinghai, from the Kunlun Mountains to the Himalayas, from Lhasa to Kathmandu through Tibet and the Everest Base Camp. More than 70 nights in a tent, almost 7,500 kilometers in 75 days: an unforgettable adventure, an experience that stays with you forever. Off the beaten path, even dreams become possible.

How do your journeys begin? What inspires them, and what do they aim to inspire?

Curiosity inspires my travels. I believe it is the most common and most underrated human trait. We all have it. It is curiosity that drives me toward the unknown. And along with curiosity, the desire to reclaim an ancient nomadic spirit. Because, deep down, that’s where we come from. Long ago, before the Neolithic Revolution, we were all nomads. In the evening — when I travel by bicycle in faraway places — I wait for the last light of the sunset, set up my tent by the roadside, and then look up at the sky to find my familiar landscape in the celestial vault. Deep silence. There's only your breath and heartbeat. Today, just like back then, this is what nomads used to do.

What do you need to embark on a journey like this?

A strong motivation and someone waiting for you at home. That’s what you need to pack if you want to set off on a long journey. Motivation can be sought and nurtured. Or it can already be within you, coming from far away. The strongest desires don’t always have a rational explanation. Someone waiting for you at home is, however, the meaning of the return, the thing that allows you to put an end to a long journey of exploration. While pedaling on the road, you might wish your adventure would never end. You head towards the future as a place of curiosity and wonder. You ask yourself: "How can I give all this up?" When you feel that traveling becomes your life, it's hard to let it go. Only the absence of the people you love can bring you back home. They are your greatest treasure. Without those roots, you risk losing your way and becoming like a flag blown by the wind.

Before every great journey, preparation and research are often hidden. How do you prepare for your explorations?

I try to improve, journey after journey. I’m not a methodical or systematic person. I don’t seek perfection, but emotion. Apart from the aspects concerning my personal safety, which I take care of in detail, I leave much to circumstances and improvisation. I forget things. Before every trip, I accumulate small notes with my reminders. Dozens of sticky notes piled on top of each other. I even stick them to the windshield of my car. The weeks leading up to departure are the most hectic. I wish days had 35 hours. Then everything usually falls into place once I leave. I don’t want to know too much about the places waiting for me. After dreaming of them, desiring them, imagining them... I let them surprise me.

What message do you want to convey with your endeavors?

I don’t think there’s anything strange about crossing a continent alone on a bicycle with a tent and sleeping bag. It’s our society that makes it seem strange. But it’s also our society that makes it possible, because there are no bike journeys and free time where wars and poverty reign. Today, there are more countries at war than there were in 1943. With my experiences, I want to send this message to everyone: traveling always translates into a great opportunity for learning and is an extraordinary privilege for those who can afford it.

7.500 km by bicycle

75 days

70 nights in a tent

How have these adventures changed you?

There are journeys that remind you who you are. Years go by, you look back, and when you need to understand where you're heading, you return to your experiences, halfway between the trips you haven't yet taken and those you've left behind. The adventures I've lived on my bike have represented moments of solitude and sharing, wonder and amazement, incredible hardships, immense fears, and joys, continuous confrontations with geographical, cultural, ethnographic, and environmental diversity. Have they changed me? Absolutely, shaping me into who I am. I don't mean externally, how others see me, but internally, in how I perceive myself. At the end of each day, we always end up at the most difficult moment—when we look in the mirror. You can't look away, because it's you on the other side. So you try to understand who you're facing. In my reflection, I see my journeys, my children, my wife, my family, and a few true friends—and little else. Along with the hope of contributing, even if just a drop in the ocean, to international solidarity.

What emotions do you feel when you don’t see anyone for a long time?

After so many days on a bike, in total solitude, the line between talking to yourself and thinking out loud becomes thin. What emotions do I feel? A sense of freedom. That’s what I feel, seek, and keep chasing. A limitless, unrestricted, boundless freedom that you can't experience elsewhere. But the price of freedom is solitude. I can afford it because I have someone waiting for me at home. At the start of my journeys, improvisation and fatalism are my vertigo; then they become the void I lean on. I chase a dream of anarchy that exists only in my head. And like all dreams of freedom and anarchy, it doesn’t exist. Have I found the other side of the moon? No, I haven't found what I’m looking for yet. But I’ve realized that the treasure hunt is the most exciting part of the journey.

What do you do when you return from your travels, and how do you share your experiences with the public?

When I return from my travels, I try to write books, make documentaries, and share my experiences through cycles of public talks and conferences. The proceeds from these activities are donated to the "Senza Frontiere" nonprofit organization in support of the "Rarahil Memorial School" (Kathmandu, Nepal), and to the "Need You" nonprofit to fund the "Ger Camp" (Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia). I thank Montura, Montura Editing, and Herno for making all of this possible. Over the years, within Montura, a group of people has grown around the values of solidarity, sharing a common worldview. I owe what I’ve learned to Fausto De Stefani and David Bellatalla. Though different from each other, Fausto and David have much in common: few words, but the right ones, big dreams, and big hearts. They know how to smile and be a friend. Above all, they dedicate infinite resources and energy to helping those born in disadvantaged circumstances, burdened by deprivation, violence, lack of education, and those needs we take for granted in the West. Your birthplace is not a badge of honor; we didn’t earn it on the battlefield, it’s not a sports merit. That’s what I’ve learned from my long journeys.