LonEnd2021: The Spontaneous Escape from (North) London to Lands End

While I might tell people that “#LonEnd2021 was NOT planned,” deep down, I know that’s not quite true. Subconsciously, I’ve been plotting this adventure since at least 2012, when I first cycled to Barcelona on the #LonLona trip with Dan. We’d chosen Barcelona over the classic British cycle tour of John O’Groats to Lands End purely for the weather, even though the distances were nearly the same. It seems adventure was always in the cards for me, just waiting for the right moment.

That moment arrived on a particularly mundane Monday morning. I was knee-deep in job listings on LinkedIn, wading through a sea of HR jargon and meaningless buzzwords. Each click felt like a step deeper into a swamp of career confusion. The office grind loomed large in every notification, each one a reminder of the predictability I’d grown tired of. Instead of finding inspiration in a job POST, I found myself daydreaming of a signpost pointing to some random, unknown town. Adventure was calling, and my inner voice-the one that’s never really quiet-was whispering that what I needed wasn’t a job, but the open road. Not today, anyway.

By lunchtime, my resolve had strengthened. After mindlessly scrolling through YouTube, a thought crystallized in my head: “I deserve an overnight #MicroAdventure!” After all, hadn’t I put in a solid hour of job hunting that morning? I justified my escape, telling myself I’d be back by sunrise. Tomorrow could be the new job-hunting day, but today? Today was for something different. Something unpredictable. Obey your thoughts.

I sprang into action, quickly packing my tent, inflatable ground mat, and a sleeping bag. I tossed in a mini stove, a gas canister, and a trusty can of baked beans for dinner. I checked the tires on my bike and adjusted my helmet around my unshaved jaw. I mean, it was that which was causing the adjustment and not the fact that it had grown a bit larger since the last time I rode-thanks, lockdown!

I didn’t know exactly where I was heading, but I knew one thing: I was going west. The last time I was on this bike, I rode from Amsterdam to St Albans via Harwich. Continuing west seemed like the logical next step.

As I peddled away from the city, the rhythm of the bike beneath me, I felt the tension of the past few weeks begin to melt away. The concrete jungle of Watford continued to ward Heathrow then it quickly gave way to the green of the countryside, and with every mile, I felt more in tune with the road and less with the expectations I’d left behind. The beauty of a spontaneous journey is that every signpost feels like a suggestion, not a command. There’s no fixed destination, no schedule to keep-just the thrill of not knowing what lies beyond the next bend.

The idea of cycling to Lands End had been a vague dream for years, a “maybe someday” thought tucked away in the back of my mind. Today, it became a “why not now?” kind of idea. I wasn’t bound by any obligations, no meetings to attend, no deadlines to meet. The only thing pulling me forward was the road itself and the promise of discovery that lay in every push of the pedals. I didn’t have to make it all the way to Lands End today. In fact, I had no plan beyond the next few hours. And that was the point.

Adventure doesn’t always require meticulous planning or grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s about listening to that quiet voice that nudges you to step out of your comfort zone, to follow a whim, and to see where it takes you. It’s about packing a bag, checking your tires, and just going-trusting that the journey itself will provide the answers, even if you don’t know the questions yet.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rolling unknown fields, I felt a sense of freedom I hadn’t felt in a long time. The familiar urban landscapes were now far behind me, and ahead lay the promise of the open road. A thrill bubbled from my blood to the surface of my skin. Not knowing exactly where I was headed was triggering my amygdala to fire anxiously about the unknown, yet my parasympathetic nervous system kicked in with every deep inhale of the pure countryside air, calming me down. I’d been here many times before, but it had been a while. So, while I was confident in my ability, I was also generally nervous and anxiously excited. I told myself that wherever I ended up would be exactly where I needed to be. And for now, as I chased the setting sun, that was enough.

I peddled on, into the fading light, the cool evening air filling my lungs, my thoughts filled not with LinkedIn profiles or job applications but with the endless possibilities of the road ahead. LonEnd2021 wasn’t planned. Not really. But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what I needed. And as I rode west, away from the city and into the unknown, I felt a sense of anticipation for what lay ahead-whatever that might be.

Here’s to the journey, to the road less traveled, and to the adventures that find us when we’re not even looking.