And here I am, after almost a year…

RETURN FROM NEW ZEALAND

My last post dates back to April 2025, when I was still in China, struggling with the clutch that had decided to put a spoke in my wheels. Then, however, despite many difficulties, everything was resolved and I was able to continue my journey back to Italy.

After 6,000 km in China, I crossed Mongolia (2,000 km) and entered Russia, near Lake Baikal. I was very apprehensive about entering that country, but I soon changed my mind; I found extremely friendly people and extraordinary hospitality. Among the locals, there’s very little talk about the war; not even the news reports it, and ultimately it seems more like a problem managed by the halls of power, compared to all the other countries in the world. In Russia, I traveled the entire Trans-Siberian Railway, from east to west, 6,000 km in eleven days, until I arrived in Moscow, where I stopped for a couple of days to play tourist.

FEELING AT HOME IN EUROPE

After seven months of travel, I returned to Europe from Lithuania, then crossed Latvia, Poland, the Czech Republic, Germany, and Austria, arriving at the Italian border at the Brenner Pass. What a thrill to return to Italy on my Vespa, knowing I’d set out from the furthest point in the world—it really couldn’t be further than that. From Innsbruck, I opted to take the old state road that leads to the Brenner Pass, forgoing the faster (and more dangerous) highway. In fact, I couldn’t have made a better choice; I’m practically alone, among small clusters of houses, partially abandoned bars and restaurants, and a stream that runs alongside the road. I climb toward the pass, in third gear, my little Vespa proudly advancing, almost as if realizing something great is about to end.

The sunlight reflects on the stream, I savor the moment, listening to the engine and thinking of the Nullarbor Desert in Australia, Mount Bromo in Indonesia, the absurd roads of Laos, and the Trans-Siberian Railway in Russia. All frames and clips from a film that is increasingly taking shape inside me, with the knowledge that it will stay with me for the rest of my life.

ITALY

On the Brenner Pass, I stop for lunch. The sun is shining. I sit at an outdoor table and order a burger with fries. It’s a time for reflection and gratification. I can’t help but think constantly about what I’ve accomplished and imagine that in two days, my life will return to “normal”—that is, the life of many others: home, work, family, and friends. I’m happy, but I’m also a little apprehensive. “Will I be able to readjust to a lifestyle like this?” I don’t want to worry; I’ll just face things as they come.

I’m staying overnight in Bressanone. Tomorrow morning I absolutely have to get my Vespa inspected, as it expired months ago. After almost eight months, that evening, lying in bed, I decide to watch a random news program—I don’t remember which channel. I look at it: Meloni’s bad government, violence against women, wars… Nothing has changed since I last watched the news eight months earlier. From that day on, I decided I would never intentionally watch the news again, and almost a year later, I can confirm I’ve kept that resolution.

I got it inspected, even though I had underestimated the harshness of the people of Alto Adige, who were questioning the reliability of my Vespa, oblivious to the fact that it had traveled nearly 40,000 km, in 16 countries. I got the inspection done only after having to give in to replacing the rear shock absorber and both tires.

I set off again, and before arriving at the Bay Watch at Lake Santa Croce, I decide to also take the Giau Pass, a coveted pass frequented by many motorcyclists. The Vespa’s ignition is very poor, I struggle to climb, and before the summit I’m forced to reverse, heading towards Cordina d’Ampezzo. Oh no, we can’t end up like this; I understand if we’re in the middle of a forest in Indonesia, but really not here. I stop, fill up the Vespa, pouring the gas from the spare canister, turn around, and try to climb again. Up, up, up, still in second gear at fairly high revs, there’s snow, it’s starting to grumble but it holds, up, up, up, all the way to the summit. We made it, now we can say “all downhill to the finish!”

RETURN TO “NORMAL” LIFE

On Saturday, June 7, 2025, I arrived, as I’d dreamed since the beginning of my journey, meeting at Bay Watch, on Lake Santa Croce, in the province of Belluno. It was wonderful to meet up with all my friends from the Conegliano and Alpago Vespa Clubs just 5 km from the finish line. With them, I rode those last 5 of the 38,500 km, laughing, joking, honking, and sharing anecdotes. It was a great celebration, and an equally thrilling moment when I put my indicator on and took the small descent that separates Bay Watch from the main road.

When I arrived, there were so many friends—I don’t even remember how many, but so many. Everywhere I turned, I saw familiar faces, smiling and almost in disbelief at my achievement. I tried to give everyone space and attention, even though I certainly didn’t succeed. There was Fabiola, my children, my mother, my sister with her children, Astrid, and then all my friends, those dear faces who had been missing from my daily life for almost eight months.

Evening comes, and gradually people head home, but we stay there, until late, with a few friends, over a spritz and a toast, telling each other stories, recounting that trip that has just ended but which will always remain vivid in my memories.

HAPPILY CRAZY

A few days pass and I pick up my book again, which I started writing on the very first day of the trip, while flying to New Zealand and practically finished in Russia, when on a rainy day, in the middle of crossing the Russian Trans-Siberian Railway, I felt inspired and found the right title: “Happily Crazy”.

In reality, the entire text was written with AI, not a single idea, suggestion, or correction. However, there was a lot of work to do to make it publishable, and Fabiola provided me with assistance that I would call crucial, giving the book a decidedly more professional feel on the one hand, and a more enjoyable and effective approach for readers on the other. Some of her ideas make “Felicemente Folle” extremely original and one of a kind:

– Kilometers traveled instead of page numbers. So when you read about Thailand, you’re not on page 165, but maybe you’re at kilometer 17,500 or so.

– At the beginning of each chapter a handwritten map indicates the general route and the main stages for each nation

– Often at the end of each page there are notes and comments, they are the journey, as experienced by Fabiola from home or on her three trips to Australia, Indonesia and Mongolia.

Summer passes, and in September the book is ready for publication. As it comes out, it’s perfect—not a mistake, no corrections needed, simply the result of the story of a unique and incredible journey.

WORK

Three days after my return, I started working in Treviso, at the company where I interviewed, flying from Laos to New York and returning in less than five days. The work is all-consuming, demanding, both physically (it’s face-to-face) and mentally, but fortunately, it also brings great satisfaction, primarily professional.

Now is the time to work, and I do it with the utmost commitment and passion. Then, every now and then, I let my thoughts and dreams wander, imagining new destinations and new encounters. I live my present well and imagine my future, consistent with the choices I made a few years ago.

We’ll be back soon to imagine new adventures, in the meantime don’t miss all the videos I’ve created and that you can find at this link

MY MANTRA

…and the beginning of my book…available for purchase here

“I value the most precious thing I own, my time, as if each day were my last “

FOR WHO WANTS TO FOLLOW AND SUPPORT ME
To follow me in real time during my journey

Thank you very much