How a new expedition idea is born

Tanja and I had only been back from our 25-month e-bike expedition through Asia for a few weeks. We were sitting in our office planning the upcoming lecture tour for our latest multivision show.

“Did you hear that on the news? They want to ban all older diesel vehicles in some German city centers?” I asked Tanja. “What? Why?” “It’s certainly nowhere near as dramatic here as in China, but it seems that particulate matter has also had an immense impact on our health in Europe. We know that the small particles enter the body through breathing and make people ill. We have already experienced massive particulate pollution first-hand in many cities around the world. Because soot particles are also partly responsible for global warming, the EU now wants to restrict this by imposing driving bans and banning diesel vehicles from major cities,” I replied, thinking about the consequences these measures would have for us. “I don’t understand. There are no limits to particulate matter. If it’s produced by diesel vehicles, then it’s also produced outside the cities,” Tanja interrupted my thoughts. “That’s true, but particulate matter has become dangerous due to the ever-increasing volume of traffic, especially in conurbations. As I understand it, the first aim is to reduce the high concentration by banning older diesel cars because they blow out a lot of dirt,” I replied. “That would mean that we would no longer be allowed to take our show equipment to the venues in our Sprinter?” “It looks like that could be the case,” I said, still pondering.

A few months later, there was no way out. If we wanted to continue giving lectures, the political situation would force us to purchase a modern tour vehicle in the foreseeable future.

Various festival organizers sometimes assign parking spaces to their speakers, guests and visitors on meadows and fields, which sometimes turn into a real field after a heavy summer rain. It is not uncommon for vans and cars without four-wheel drive to sink up to their armpits in the mud. That was precisely the reason why I wanted an all-terrain touring vehicle. To save on hotel costs, it was best to stay in a hotel where we could also spend the night. Once the decision had been made, I couldn’t let go of the idea, which is why I spent countless hours on the internet trying to find the right one for us.

When René, a photographer friend of mine, visited us with his motorhome, a Mercedes Sprinter all-wheel drive, I was immediately hooked. I instantly felt like a little boy longing for his birthday or Christmas to finally get his Playstation or Lego set. Suddenly I couldn’t sleep properly. I dreamed of this fantastic all-terrain vehicle and would have loved to own it on the spot. It’s strange how wishes are sometimes created. I would never have dreamed of ever wanting to own a fully equipped motorhome. To be honest, it didn’t make too much sense to us as we had been on the Great Journey, the longest documented expedition in human history, since 1991, traveling by camel, elephant, horse, motorcycle, bicycle and on the last leg by e-bike. So what should we do with a motorhome? Of course, we needed a van again. Possibly something like our Sprinter, which I built myself with a friend many years ago. But a fully equipped camper van? Did that suit us? And yet, against all reason, I was infected, infected by an unbridled desire. An all-terrain camper van was therefore increasingly becoming a dream, a dream that seemed as far away as riding a muscular, well-trained camel bull, or even better, sitting on the neck of a hissing, fire-breathing dragon and racing with it over distant mountain ranges and primeval forests.

I kept waking up from my sleep, having confused, seemingly illusory dreams that obviously came from a fantasy world. In the waking hours, I saw Tanja, myself and our dog Ajaci in a dark grey, futuristic-looking off-road vehicle with fat, chunky tires. In repetitive thought loops, I considered which manufacturer would be the best for us, especially how we could finance this pipe dream without spending too much money. After all, our main focus was still on expedition trips. Tanja and I didn’t want to jeopardize that.

“Denis, congratulations on the article in Explorer magazine,” I heard René’s voice rattling through the small speaker of my smartphone a few weeks later. “What article?” I wanted to know, as I wasn’t aware of having written anything for the magazine. “Well, the article about your e-bike tour through Asia!” It trickled into my brain like quicksand. “Oh yes, that’s right. I met an editor at the Eurobike trade fair about six months ago and sent him something about our trip,” I remembered. “Did they actually publish it?” “Yes… and the story turned out really well,” René praised. As soon as we got off the phone, I called the magazine and asked them to send me two specimen copies for our archive. A few days later, the magazine was on my desk. While searching for our article, I slowly leafed through it. “Wow”, I kept saying when I saw the wickedly cool off-road vehicles. I was really blown away by the IVECO Daily 4×4 with cab body. “Fabulous,” I whispered reverently. “He looks just like in my dreams.” Then the purchase price caught my eye and I got downright dizzy.

It was only then that I realized what unlimited possibilities there were in the off-road motorhome sector. A few weeks later, the desire for such a device soon became painful, driving my mind into regions I would never have entered. Fucking fine dust pollution, I thought, because it was precisely this problem that had ignited something in me that was getting bigger and bigger and could hardly be stopped. In order to get closer to the matter at hand, I fell into a state of unbridled activism. I spoke to Hinz and Kunz. I made phone calls, wrote to companies and asked whether they could imagine entering into a sponsorship cooperation with us. “We can talk about it,” said the sales manager of a well-known motorhome manufacturer in Bavaria. We made an appointment. Highly nervous and as tense as a British bowstring, we sat in the large showroom in front of one of the camping vehicles and talked to the managing director and sales manager. We liked each other straight away, with the happy result that we actually want to work together in the future.

The plan was to have a Mercedes Sprinter camper van upgraded with professional all-wheel drive. This was to be done by an external company known in the scene. “And where do we want to put our presentation equipment?” Tanja gave my euphoria, which had shot to the roof, a severe blow. “Hm, I don’t know, we’ll just have to rehearse,” I replied meekly. “Denis, wake up now. Our technology will never fit in there.” “Hmm, then we’ll buy a trailer and stow everything in there that doesn’t fit in the camper van.” “And how are we going to maneuver through the small streets of the city centre with such a large vehicle? And where are you going to park the vehicle? It’s already not easy to find a suitable parking space in front of an event hall,” Tanja added to my already dampened euphoria. “We’ll think of something,” I stubbornly defended my new big wish.” Of course, I realized that Tanja was right and that she would have to support such a decision, which is why I struggled to find a way to change her mind.

Fortunately, Tanja gave in over time and we agreed to buy the special off-road sprinter. In January of the following year, the time had finally come. The motorhome builder’s offer was on the table. When I had worked through it, my dream collapsed into an inconspicuous heap. Because a new model was to be launched in the fall, we were offered a vehicle that was already fully configured. There were special requests built in that we didn’t want and accessories that we would have liked to have were not available in this model. On top of that, the tire size was suddenly comparable to a narrow-gauge railroad, the color reminded us of a conservative refrigerator from the 1950s, and the off-road rebuilder signaled another wait of at least six months. Although we could have had the camper van a lot cheaper, the compromises were simply too great. “Then we’ll have to wait until the new model comes onto the market in the fall,” I said dejectedly. Tanja, who was sitting at her small desk, looked at me. “You know that everything in life makes sense. Nothing just happens. Be patient. You’ll see,” she comforted me.

Weeks later, we received another cooperation offer from another motorhome manufacturer. “Come and visit us at the Caravan Fair in Düsseldorf, then we can talk about the details,” suggested the marketing manager. Although we were very happy about the offer, more and more time passed. In the meantime I had been looking for the future tour vehicle for 7 months and if it went on like this the year would drag on without getting any closer to my wish. Apart from that, we wanted to continue our Grand Tour in the coming year, and if something didn’t happen soon, we would have to postpone the entire project until our return from Asia. “But that means we might not be able to sell our Sprinter because nobody will want it any more due to the emissions situation. So we will make a loss,” I concluded. “A solution will emerge,” Tanja was still confident. Not letting up, and because I was really infected by IVECO in the Explorer magazine, I called IVECO. “Can I speak to your boss, please?” I asked the sales manager. “He’s currently preparing for the four-wheel drive adventure and can’t be spoken to”. “And you think your boss would be interested in working with you?” I asked as the conversation progressed. “Maybe, but they would have to visit us at the Abenteuer Allrad.” “Excuse me, what is the Abenteuer Allrad?” “Mr. Katzer, you’re writing an article for Explorer magazine and don’t know what Abenteuer Allrad is?” “Sorry, I’m an adventurer and have traveled with horses, camels, elephants and bicycles. I’ve had little to do with motorhomes and four-wheel drive vehicles,” I justified myself. “Ha, ha, ha, I’ve never heard anything like that before,” the man snorted into the phone. “Well, Abenteuer Allrad is the largest off-road trade fair in the world and takes place in Bad Kissingen in June. That’s just around the corner from you. Go there and talk to my boss” “When in June?” “In two days.” “In two days already?” I cleared my throat and immediately scrolled through my timer. Astounded to come across untainted white pages at precisely this time, I agreed to a meeting and made an appointment.

“I’m going to the Allrad trade fair in Bad Kissingen the day after tomorrow”, I presented Tanja with a fait accompli and told her about my phone call with the IVECO dealer. “I’m going with you,” I heard her spontaneous decision. As Tanja is not exactly tech-savvy and I usually have to persuade her to accompany me to such trade fairs, I was completely taken aback. “I have to protect us from making overly euphoric decisions,” she laughed and winked mischievously at me.

In bright sunshine, we met the management of the motorhome manufacturer from whom we would soon have bought a vehicle in January shortly after entering the all-wheel drive fair. Mr. Schmidt showed us one of the all-wheel-drive sprinters with wide tires, around which I crept with shining eyes. “Too bad it’s not available yet,” I said. “You can have it in the fall, by winter at the latest,” replied Mr. Schmidt. “We’ll have a look around,” we said goodbye. On the way to the IVECO dealer’s stand, Tanja and I were amazed at the seemingly endless range of products on offer from a wide variety of exhibitors. From roof tents, cooking pots, tires of all types and sizes to special conversions of expedition motorhomes, numerous tour operators and countless more, the offers were almost overwhelming. “You’d have to be a millionaire,” I said, standing in front of an incredibly beautiful off-roader and feeling a little annoyed with myself. Have I experienced during the last 30 years of travel and expedition how liberating a minimalist lifestyle can be? And now, all of a sudden, I’m really hooked on these sometimes large vehicles. When we arrived at the Iveco dealer, my head was literally buzzing, because the amount of information exceeded my brain capacity.

Before we made ourselves known at the Iveco dealer’s stand, we inspected the two small all-wheel drive trucks on display. “And I’m supposed to drive this huge thing?” asked Tanja uncertainly. “It looks bigger than it is,” I tried to convince her. “Hm, just look at the tires. They’re pretty powerful.” “Yes, it’s a real off-road vehicle, although the tires could be a bit wider,” I replied, barely able to contain my enthusiasm. “Why men always like wide tires remains a mystery to me,” Tanja replied. “There are also women who love wide tires,” I countered, a little offended. “And you think we can have a cabin built on the back instead of the loading area on display here?” Tanja changed the subject. “That shouldn’t be a problem. We just need to buy a cabin like this.” “And you want to build it yourself?” “I won’t have any other choice. A ready-made cabin is simply too expensive.” “The only question is where you’re going to find the time?” “I think it will take a few years. We’ll have to sleep on camping mats for the first few months. It’s not comfortable, but we can certainly fit all our show equipment in a cabin like this and won’t need a trailer.” “May I help you?” a man interrupts our conversation. “I’d love to,” I replied, whereupon we introduced ourselves. “Oh, they’re the adventurers. My colleague has already announced them. Nice to welcome you here at our stand,” we were greeted warmly. I immediately told him about the cooperation offers from the two motorhome builders, about how long we had been looking, that we would like the IVECO Daily 4×4 best and whether he could imagine working with our life project, the longest documented expedition in human history. “We’re happy to talk about it,” we heard and could hardly believe our luck. During the stimulating conversation, we came to an agreement and agreed to work together. Inspired and extremely happy, we said goodbye and used the day that had just begun to marvel at other off-road vehicles. “I’m ravenous. Shall we get something from the food stalls?” Tanja made herself heard. “A damn good idea,” I replied, in a great mood because of the good deal I had just made.

“Tanja! Tanjaaa!” a shout breaks through the babble of voices in the crowd as I was about to sit down on one of the beer benches. “Heiko, what are you doing here?” Tanja asked, hugging the man. Only now did I recognize Heiko Müller, who built the legendary folding bike called Birdy with his friend Markus Riese in his parents’ garage in 1993. A short time later, the two engineers launched the Birdy on the market with great success. Heiko and Markus have been sponsors of our big trip since 2005. Back then, we were still complete beginners when it came to cycling, but they still believed in us and put their trust in us. We traveled from Germany to Thailand in several stages on their bikes. 5 books have been published about the cycle tours alone. Unbelievable when you think that we only wanted to use the bike to get from one expedition to another in an ecological way.

Heiko, his wife Sandra and Markus are now friends of ours. One reason why we were particularly pleased to meet them at this trade fair. “What are you doing at Abenteuer Allrad?” we wanted to know. I’m here with my sons to look around for an off-road motorhome.” “You too? We’re here for exactly the same reason,” I replied with a laugh. “What are you looking for? Do you already have something specific in mind?” Heiko was interested. “We’re thinking about buying an IVECO Daily 4×4 and having a cabin built on it,” I explained. “It’s unbelievable, we’re looking for the same vehicle,” Heiko was surprised. “It’s really unbelievable, especially that we’re meeting here in the middle of a crowd,” I said. “You should pay a visit to bimobil. They have their vehicles on display back there in the big tent,” he suggested. “bimobil? Who is that?” I asked curiously. “In my opinion, bimobil builds some of the best cabins on the market. Just have a look there,” Heiko recommended and showed us a brochure of his dream vehicle.

After lunch together, Tanja and I hurried to bimobil. When we stood in front of the first expedition vehicle a little later, we were literally speechless. “It looks better than the IVECO featured in Explorer magazine,” I whispered almost reverently. “A vehicle like that would be the dream,” I heard Tanja’s voice and couldn’t believe that she was also immediately enthusiastic. “Come on, let’s ask how much an empty cabin costs,” I suggested. “I’m sorry, we don’t sell empty cabins,” we heard. “What? Why not?” I asked and felt my euphoria, which had reached heaven, plummet again. “Because we currently have at least 1 1/2 years waiting time for an upgraded cabin. And the trend is rising. As we also manufacture empty cabins specially, you can imagine that this is precisely why we don’t sell empty cabins,” the man explained. “Why not this one?” I persist. “Because our business is not just building a cabin, but mainly fitting them out.” “Hm, one and a half, maybe two years waiting time? I can’t believe that. Does that mean we have no chance?” “No,” the salesman persisted. He must have read the endless disappointment in my eyes, because as we were about to leave, he cleared his throat. “But…,” “Yes?” “But why don’t you ask my boss?” “Where is your boss?” I asked with little hope. “He’s just walking across the stand. Do you see him?” he asked, pointing to a man in outdoor clothing.

Hello Mr. Christner, we are Tanja and Denis Katzer,” I introduced myself and asked if he had a few minutes for us. “Of course, what’s it all about?” he replied in a friendly manner. We reported on our prospective cooperation offers from the two motorhome manufacturers and the Iveco dealer. “If I have understood you correctly, you are going on serious expedition trips. In this case, the white goods, i.e. conventional motorhomes, are not for you. I would even advise against it. They need something sensible. Something that won’t leave them stranded in the middle of the desert or on a gravel road in the tropical monsoon rain,” he said with conviction. “We weren’t actually thinking of going on an expedition with it. We just want to get out of a wet meadow without getting stuck and need enough space for our presentation technique. But you’re right, of course. It would be good to have the right vehicle for future projects,” I replied thoughtfully, considered for a few seconds, looked briefly into Tanja’s eyes and continued my question: “Regardless of the offers we already have, we like your vehicles extremely well. What can I say? They really blow us away. This is exactly what I’ve been dreaming of for months. Simply gigantic. It’s just that the price is also gigantic and would massively exceed our budget. Then there’s the years of waiting. By the time such a vehicle would be ready, we would be on our next expedition trip. Unless we want to work together. Would something like that be conceivable for you?” “Why not. I’d have to talk to my wife. But in principle we could talk about it,” we heard and at first thought his words, which were just disappearing under the tent roof and being absorbed by the general murmur of the trade fair visitors, were a verbal mirage. A short time later we were sitting in an EX412, as bimobil has named this beautiful expedition vehicle, and we were amazed. Tanja’s and my pulse was 120. Could it really be that we were sitting in a vehicle for the price of which you could also buy a house? Was it really real to suddenly toy with the idea of becoming the owner of such an insane vehicle? How could something like this work without jeopardizing our travel life? Without getting bogged down in a dead end? Were our thoughts going completely crazy now? Was Mr. Christner really serious about a cooperation? And by how much would the company accommodate us?

There was no question that we could satisfy such partners with our work. We have proven this many times over the last few decades. We had and still have many large companies as equal cooperation partners, but never in the off-road sector. That would be something completely new, something exciting, a so-called turning point in life. In the course of the intense conversation, I thought my pulse would increase even more and felt the blood rushing through my carotid arteries as if it were plunging down Niagara Falls. “You are lucky. Just a few days ago, one of our customers had to withdraw from his purchase contract for health reasons. If they decide on a bimobil, we will give them this building site. This means that they can pick up their mobile off-road home in three months at the latest,” I heard the man’s words ringing in my ears from afar. That was simply unbelievable. What divine ray just hit us?

When we left the fair in the evening, we were both dizzy. Tanja’s face looked as if she had caught too much sun. “If we’re actually going to buy such an awesome thing, we should use it properly,” her words floated to me. “What do you mean?” “Well, we have a problem getting our batteries from Germany to Asia, don’t we?” “Yes, what are you getting at?” “Why don’t we just load the batteries into the bimobile and drive them to Cambodia?” “What? How?” I asked, feeling the blood in my body hit a hundred-metre-deep surface of water after a long fall, atomize into millions of individual parts and dissolve into its atoms. “You’re not serious, are you?” I heard my own words. “Why not? Just be realistic. It doesn’t make sense to invest so much money and energy in such an expedition vehicle just to be able to drive out of a wet summer meadow after an event. Cooperation or not, the fact is that we would still have to invest a fortune. And if we really have to do that, then we should use it properly.” If I thought I could hear a buzzing in my head before, now it was a hissing. “Why don’t you say anything? Are you okay?” Tanja asked after a few seconds of silence that felt like an eternity. “Well, you’re really incredible. It’s always me who comes up with the cool expedition ideas and now you’ve come up with such a plank. I find the idea unbelievable. Simply brilliant. Super! You really are a great woman. Yes, we’ll bring our batteries and equipment to Cambodia ourselves and start our e-bike expedition from there. Man, that’s fantastic!” I shouted into the summer evening sky.

As Tanja had to leave by train that evening for a photo shoot, I stayed behind on my own. I spent the night in our Sprinter, where we always stay at trade fairs and lectures. It was the first of many sleepless nights in which I pondered how and whether Tanja’s idea could be realized.

Stefan Christner, Managing Director of von Liebe GmbH – bimobil,
and Denis Katzer, during the first off-road training session in summer 2018