A bicycle makes you part of the landscape instead of separate from it
For more than 300 days, Norwegian artist Annabelle Golden has been crossing Africa one pedal stroke at a time, tracing a route from Morocco's northern edge toward Cape Town's southern shore alongside her partner Alex Ohtea. Theirs is not a race but a reckoning — with distance, with slowness, with the question of what it means to truly inhabit a place rather than merely pass through it. As July arrives and the Cape Town waterfront draws near, their journey reminds us that the most deliberate paths through the world are often the most human ones.
- After more than 300 days and twelve African countries, Golden and Ohtea are within reach of Cape Town — the finish line of a continent-long chapter that began in Morocco in January 2025.
- The final stretch through Namibia has been among the expedition's most demanding, with vast desert terrain, extreme distances, and physical exhaustion testing the limits of what two people on bicycles can endure.
- Yet Namibia has also delivered the journey's most arresting rewards — ancient San rock art, Etosha wildlife, star-filled desert skies, and landscapes Golden herself has described as 'out of this world.'
- The couple sustains the road through online documentation — artwork, travel content, and a growing audience of followers who fund the journey and watch it unfold from a distance.
- Cape Town is not the end: it closes Africa's chapter but opens the next, as Golden and Ohtea intend to continue their global cycling expedition beyond South Africa's southern tip.
Annabelle Golden has been on her bicycle for more than 300 days. She set out from Norway, crossed into Africa through Morocco in January 2025, and now, with July arrived, Cape Town is finally within sight. She is not rushing. That has never been the point.
Golden is a Norwegian artist who decided, alongside her partner Alex Ohtea, that the world was best seen at the speed a human body can sustain. What began as a winter cycling trip through Austria in 2018 has since become a way of life — carrying everything on their bikes, sleeping under open skies, funding the road through the artwork and travel content Golden shares online with thousands of followers who watch and wonder.
The African leg alone has taken them through twelve countries: Morocco, Mauritania, Senegal, The Gambia, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Angola, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Namibia, and now South Africa. Each border brought new languages, new landscapes, and the particular kind of encounter that only happens when you arrive somewhere slowly, on a bicycle, impossible to overlook.
Namibia has become one of the expedition's defining chapters. Their recent footage shows desert scenery that seems to stretch beyond the horizon, campsites beneath skies dense with stars, wildlife near Etosha, and ancient San rock art sites that would be easy to miss from inside a car but impossible to overlook at bicycle speed. The days have been physically demanding. The kilometres have been worth it.
This is what slow travel actually means — not collecting stamps or ticking destinations, but earning your place in a landscape through effort and time. A bicycle makes you part of the world rather than separate from it.
Golden's journey is also a quiet argument against the conventional path. She finished her studies in Amsterdam in 2018 and chose movement over settlement, building a life in which the work funds the travel and the travel fuels the work. Cape Town marks the end of Africa's chapter — not the end of the journey. The world is still waiting. The bicycles will keep moving.
Annabelle Golden has been on her bicycle for more than 300 days. She started in Norway, crossed into Africa through Morocco in January 2025, and now, as July arrives, the Cape Town waterfront is finally close enough to see. She is not rushing to get there. That has never been the point.
Golden is a Norwegian artist who decided, along with her partner Alex Ohtea, that the way to see the world was one pedal stroke at a time. They are bikepacking—carrying their lives on their bikes, sleeping under stars, moving through countries at the speed a human body can sustain. What began as a winter cycling trip through Austria in 2018, inspired by Ohtea, has become a lifestyle. Golden documents the journey online, sharing artwork and travel content that funds the road and reaches thousands of people who watch from home, wondering what it would feel like to live this way.
The African chapter alone has taken them through twelve countries. Morocco gave way to Mauritania, then Senegal, The Gambia, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Angola, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Namibia. Each border crossed meant new languages, new landscapes, new people met in the way that only happens when you arrive on a bicycle—vulnerable, moving slowly, impossible to ignore. South Africa is the final country before Cape Town.
Namibia, where Golden and Ohtea are now, has become one of the expedition's defining chapters. The recent videos they have shared show what the final stretch looks like: vast desert scenery that seems to stretch beyond the horizon, campsites where the night sky is so full of stars it looks unreal, wildlife near Etosha National Park, the Tropic of Capricorn marked and crossed. They stopped at ancient San rock art sites—places that would be easy to miss from inside a car, but impossible to overlook when you are moving through the landscape at bicycle speed. Golden has called Namibia's scenery "out of this world." The days have been physically demanding. The kilometres have been worth it.
This is what slow travel actually means. It is not about collecting passport stamps or ticking destinations off a list. It is about spending days immersed in changing landscapes, watching countries unfold one kilometre at a time, meeting local communities not as a tourist passing through but as a person who has earned the right to be there through effort and time. A bicycle does something a car cannot: it makes you part of the landscape instead of separate from it.
Golden's journey is also a reminder of what happens when someone decides that the conventional path—finish your studies, find a job, stay in one place—is not the only option. She finished her studies in Amsterdam in 2018. Instead of settling, she and Ohtea chose to build a life around movement and creation. The work funds the travel. The travel fuels the work. For nearly a year now, they have been proving that this is possible.
Cape Town is close now. For South Africans watching from home, there is something compelling about seeing a traveller approach the country's southern tip after nearly a year on the road. The finish line is visible. But Golden and Ohtea are not stopping there. Cape Town marks the end of Africa's chapter, not the end of the journey. The world is still waiting. The bicycles will keep moving.
Notable Quotes
Namibia's scenery is 'out of this world,' and while the days have been physically demanding, cycling through such dramatic landscapes has made every kilometre worthwhile.— Annabelle Golden
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
What makes 300 days on a bicycle different from, say, 300 days driving the same route?
You arrive differently. A car insulates you. A bicycle makes you part of the landscape. You feel the heat, the wind, the terrain. People see you coming from a distance and have time to decide whether to engage. You're not rushing past.
But doesn't the physical toll—the exhaustion, the weather—wear down the romance of it?
Probably. But that's also when the landscape becomes real. When you're tired and you see something beautiful, it hits differently. You've earned it.
Golden has been documenting this online. Is she doing this for an audience, or in spite of one?
Both, I think. The documentation funds the journey. But the journey itself—the actual experience—that's separate from the camera. The content is a byproduct of living this way, not the reason for it.
Twelve countries in 300 days. That's roughly one country every 25 days. Doesn't that feel rushed for someone preaching slow travel?
Not if you're on a bicycle. You're not moving through countries—you're moving through landscapes within them. A country isn't a checkbox. It's weeks of gravel roads, conversations, changing light. The speed is slow relative to how most people travel.
What happens when they reach Cape Town?
They keep going. This is just the African chapter. The world is still there. The bicycles keep moving.