A nightmare becomes reality! Thoughts of death arise!

Events of 27.06.2006

After a surprisingly good night’s sleep, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “Aaaahhh!” is the sound that crosses my lips as I stand at the door to the room and feel as if someone has rammed a red-hot stake through my flesh from my anus to the vertebrae of my neck. As I urgently need to go to the toilet, I pull the door open, horrified by the intensity of the pain, and limp into the bathroom. I quickly sit down on the bowl, but that’s a mistake. The pain immediately escalates into the unbearable, into the nightmarish, into the uncertainty of his abilities. “Aahhh,” I moan in agony. If I wasn’t in Huib’s house I would just shout at the top of my voice. But I try to control myself. Suddenly I am seized by dizziness. “Just don’t fall unconscious off the toilet,” I curse quietly. “What kind of disgrace would it be to make a huge mess here? To lie senseless in your own excrement. No, I have to hold out,” I hiss through my pursed lips.

I don’t know how I manage it, but somehow I come to a halt again. The pain climbs another rung on the seemingly infinite scale of unbearability. A foggy wall lies in front of both eyes. It’s a wall that promises relief, but I muster all my willpower not to collapse unconscious here. I cling to the towel rail and take a step towards the bathroom door. “Aaaahhhh!”, I now exclaim louder. The door suddenly seems to be an eternity away. How am I supposed to get there? Another step makes me cringe as if I’ve been hit in the back by a bullet. I’m getting hot. The heart races. You would think it wanted to jump out of the body. My breath flies along superficially as if my lungs are not getting enough oxygen to supply the system. The door forms an oval before my eyes. The oval becomes a circle, which in turn flows away abruptly. “Come on, you can still manage the two meters!” I try to motivate myself by speaking out loud. Using all my strength, I hobble three steps forward, holding the handle in my hands. Tear open the bathroom door. Right behind it is our bedroom. One more step of indescribable agony, of absolute madness, and I cling to the second door handle with wet, sweaty hands. I fall into the room and onto the bed, falling rather than walking. “Aaahhh! Aaaaahhh! Aaaaaaahhhhhh! Hhhaaaaaa!” I moan, still restrained, lying paralyzed on the mattress. “Tanja is immediately snapped out of her deep sleep. “What’s going on? For God’s sake, please tell me what’s going on?” she asks, horrified. “Aaaaahhh! Aaaaaaahhhhhh! Hhhaaaaaa!” comes uncoordinated from my lips, unable to answer because my speech center seems to be out of order. “Denis! Please tell me what’s going on? Please!” I hear a distant voice wafting to my ears. It penetrates a wall of inhuman agony. I lie there for minutes, gasping for breath, trying to answer Tanja. “The back! My back! Horrible pain!” I then press out with great effort as the vicious clamp of torment eases a few notches. “What should we do now?” asks Tanja. “I have no idea. I’d best take another Voltaren suppository. It will do the trick. We just have to stay here for a few days. Then the obviously irritated nerve in my back will calm down again,” I stumble out. Tanja gives me her MP3 player. “Listen to the motivational CD.” “What kind of motivation?” I want to know. “Help for self-healing.” “Hm, you mean that can still help me in my condition?” “I don’t know. At least it can’t do any harm,” says Tanja confidently. I put my headphones on and lie stiffly on my back. Rest reduces the pain to a bearable level. Then I listen to the monotone voice telling me something about the body’s self-healing powers. At first the noise in my ears confuses me and 20 minutes later it annoys me so much that I switch off the MP3 player.

An hour later I try to move very carefully to see if the pain is still there. I am immediately punished by a razor-sharp pull that takes my breath away. “Huib has to go today and we have to leave the house. I don’t know how to get my body out of this bed,” I moan desperately. Tanja, who also seems to be at her wit’s end, reacts with silence. After a long pause, she says: “Just lie down for another hour. Then the medication will take effect and you’ll definitely be able to walk again.”

It’s 10:00 a.m. and high time to clear the house. My situation is unchanged. The slightest movement causes me agony. Only the thought of my morning toilet routine makes my hair stand on end. I lie there concentrated and frantically think about how to get out of here. “It’s now or never,” I suddenly decide, lifting my legs over the bed as quickly as I can, straightening up as the first wave of pain races through me. I limp to the door. The second wave almost brings me to my knees. “Ahhhh!” comes from inside me. It is only 2 meters to the stairs. The third wave shakes my humanity. The pain remains and almost paralyzes the legs. I grab the banister with both hands and heave my useless body down step by step with all my strength. Now only the enormous distance of approx. 5 meters to the patio door remains. My eyes go black as I reach them. Then the impossible distance of another seven meters to the garden. A monstrous tremor makes every muscle tense. I drag my burning muscles, tendons, nerves and bones forward like a piece of alien mass. I would never have thought that the human body is capable of causing such immeasurable torture. I collapse on the green lawn of Huib’s garden with the very last, almost indescribable effort, an unmanageable wall of agony. Tanja was behind me the whole time, which will certainly remain etched in my brain. “My God, you poor thing,” she comforts me and strokes my wet, sweaty forehead. She fetches me an insulating mat onto which I roll myself 10 minutes later. Then I lie on my back like a motionless turtle for a long time.

My thoughts are racing. Huib said goodbye to us hours ago. “If you want, I’ll send one of my employees tomorrow. He will pick you up and take you to Bucharest. If you need me, let my security guard know. He has a cell phone and can reach me at any time,” he offered to help us further. This man really does seem like an angel to me. What would we do without him? It was a perfect inspiration not to cycle any further. Although I am lying here in a garden in Romania, Huib at least gives us a chance of rescue. Of course, only if the situation continues to deteriorate.

I think we’ll have to cut our trip short!

I still can’t believe what is happening to me here. Everything was so well prepared. The funding from our sponsors, the technology, the perfect bikes, trailers, simply everything. Even the procurement of the complicated and cost-intensive visas and the overall timing have so far been under a good star. Everything just worked out and now this. “I have to pee,” I say, not knowing how to organize it. I get up with difficulty, limp a few meters towards the garden fence, when suddenly the glowing blade of a sword cuts me in half. With nothing left under control, I drop to my knees and crawl back to my sleeping mat like a broken man. Tears roll down my cheeks. They are tears of pain, but also tears of bitter realization. “Tanja.” “Yes.” “I think we have to break off our journey. We can’t go any further. Something terrible has happened in my back. This must be what a bad slipped disc feels like,” I say after I’ve recovered from trying to pee standing up. “Are you serious?” “Yes,” I reply and am aware that in the last 23 years of traveling I have never been forced to go home due to an injury. My thoughts wander to Pakistan where Tanja’s camel bull Cockie almost tore off my hand. Tanja jumped into Cockie’s mouth and we both joined forces to pull on his big lips. Tanja downwards and I with my free hand upwards. Cockie gave in after a while and I was able to pull my hand out of his mouth. Because one of his fangs almost severed the nerve in my wrist, she was numb for ½ year. Nevertheless, our expedition continued.

The mujahideen shot at us on the border with Afghanistan. The bullet only just missed me and my camel. I was lucky and the expedition could continue.

In Nepal, our elephant lady Bawan Kumari killed three of her mahouts (professional elephant drivers) in the course of her life. She repeatedly attacked our crew members, who only narrowly escaped her attacks. She only caught me once lightly on the arm with her trunk. The result was a torn muscle in his shoulder. Nevertheless, our journey could continue.

In Mongolia, we were once attacked by drunken Mongolians. A terrible fight to the death ensued. During our escape, one of our horses bolted. The hoof hit my left knee. Tanja brought me out of unconsciousness. We fled and our Mongolia crossing could continue.

In Guyana, four black men attacked me in a slum neighborhood. A knife attack missed my heart by a hair’s breadth. The blade only grazed my chest. It came to a fight. In the end, I was able to retreat and our expedition to the Wai-Wai Indians was not jeopardized for the time being.

My mind wanders from one catastrophe to another. Over the decades, a whole host of accidents and near misses have accumulated alongside the wonderful experiences. Of course, such bad incidents were rare, but we were confronted with them from time to time. So far, Tanja and I have always been lucky in misfortune. Despite injuries, thefts and other inconveniences, we managed to go through with our plan every time. This time, however, I’m already lying in a Romanian garden at the start of our journey, badly shaken. The tremendous pain leaves no room for doubt. Now the only question is how we’re going to get me out of here. We had never expected that one of us would end up in the terrible situation of no longer being able to walk. This is a completely new dimension of challenge. A dimension that is beyond my comprehension at the moment.

“I just don’t believe it,” Tanja’s whispering voice brings me out of my thoughts. She sits on the grass, her arms wrapped around her knees, looking out over the wide valley, in the middle of which a lake glistens in the warm evening sun. A shepherd tends the flock of sheep in the village of Mariuta with the help of his dogs. Children’s cries are carried over on a light breeze. The bawling of a drunk disturbs this idyll. But it’s not just his noises that I find disturbing, it’s the whole shitty situation we suddenly find ourselves in. Due to my lying position, I can hardly see anything of the beautiful landscape. My fresh memories from yesterday mirror the image in my mind’s eye. I think about it. Feel Tanja’s sadness. It was a sadness to see her husband suffer so much, but also a sadness to have to break off our trans-East expedition. The disappointment of not being able to cycle to the coast now, not being able to reach the Black Sea, Moldova, Ukraine or even Siberia. I can feel Tanja’s fear for me. It is downright tangible. It is real, too real. It is merciless and almost chokes my throat. How are we going to get out of here? Will I be able to go again tomorrow? Can I drag myself into a car to travel in it, let alone fly home on an airplane? I don’t know and, to be honest, I don’t care at the moment. The only thing that matters to me now is to escape this seemingly ever-increasing pain.

Exposed and humiliated

As the glowing red ball of sunlight is about to descend into the wide valley to extinguish its fire in the cool water of the lake, my tormented body seems to take over the blazing flames. It seems as if the slightest movement ignites another source of fire. Stiff as a board, totally paralyzed with pain, I lie on the insulation mat in my own sweat. A wind comes up and sweeps across the terrace where Tanja has set up camp for the night. Under normal circumstances, I would find the whispering of the wind pleasant. But this way it feels like he’s feeding the fire in my guts. The Voltaren suppositories do not have the slightest effect. Meanwhile, my stomach begins to rebel against the strong painkiller. The urge to empty myself becomes greater and greater until I can no longer help myself. It’s dark when I try to crawl like a dog on all fours to the garden fence. Seizing the opportunity, Huib’s dogs run around me, barking loudly. Only the thought of one of them touching me makes me sweat even more. “Get out of here!” shouts Tanja, whereupon the three of them trot off. Shaking, I now kneel on the grass. I’m crying snot and water, I’m completely desperate . “I want to go home! I don’t want to be an adventurer!” I curse dejectedly as it runs down my legs. At this moment, I feel stripped to the bone by my fate. Stripped, exposed, humiliated, humiliated. I feel like a piece of dirt under my fingernail. Useless ballast on earth. Tanja is coming. Speak to me lovingly. “I’m happy to do it. You don’t need to feel humiliated. I love you,” she says as she cleans me up. I then crawl back to my bed in the doggy position in indescribable agony. “Wow! Wow! Wow!”, the dogs bark, racing around me in their youthful energy and probably thinking that the human crawling along is a damn good playmate.

Thoughts of death arise

A warm breeze rises from the valley. With it, the sounds of a sleeping village reach us. Dogs howl around the bet. Some of them are obviously fighting over the hierarchy. It sounds downright terrifying. Huib’s dogs bark and growl for all they’re worth. They race back and forth across the estate. You’d think they were trying to put a whole gang of thieves to flight. “I wonder if someone wants to break into the house?” whispers Tanja. “That’s just what we need,” I reply, listening into the darkness with anxious thoughts. Black, menacing-looking clouds pile up in the dark sky. Every now and then they are torn apart by a blinding flash of lightning. A storm front makes its way through the ghostly night. It is 23:00 when I insert the third suppository. I don’t know what it would be like without this painkiller, but I feel like I could suck bobons just as well. The terrible pulling no longer comes in waves, but has really manifested itself at a high level. Only when I have to change my position after an endless amount of time does it seem to climb another step up the scale. My despair increases in proportion to the pain. The first thoughts of paraplegia flash up. Is this what the end of a traveler’s life looks like? Is this what fate has planned for me? Why? Why only? Do I deserve this? I don’t want to end up like this. Not so.

The first thoughts of death creep into my mind. If the pain continues like this, I prefer to die. I shudder. Did I just think about death? Yes, I did, and it wasn’t even that tragic. I am amazed at myself. About my thoughts. “The pain is driving you away,” I hear the voice inside me. So what? I don’t care who makes me think about death. It’s not so bad after all. Thank God I’ve had a fantastic life so far. I haven’t missed anything. It was fulfilled. Fulfilled to the limit. It is even pleasant to deal with this thought. In any case, this pain will then stop. It’s worth it. “What about your Tanja, your family? It would be very selfish of you to just leave now. It’s too soon. You still have a lot to do,” I hear the familiar voice. “True, it would be selfish, but why am I being tortured like this? I can’t stand it. I don’t even want to put up with it. I don’t deserve this. Why are you doing this to me? This is bullshit. Put an end to this terrible torture! Even if it’s death that releases me from it. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want to go crazy either. Even worse, crazy and in a wheelchair to boot. No! No! No! I don’t want that. Listen to you! You listen! Or whoever God is!” I demand desperately and suddenly find myself muttering out loud. “Is it that bad?” Tanja’s voice brings me out of my gloomy mood. “Yes, it’s terribly bad,” I reply.

We look forward to your comments!