I’m traversing Europe, questioning identity, belonging and this thing called home. Again... but this time on a bike. 😅
Sí, completely unnecessary. I know. Pity me. I suffer from FOMO and have convinced myself this might be a worthwhile opportunity to practise this whole filmmaker-documentarist thingy in public. Besides, I’m too young and too poor to buy a sports car to soothe my midlife crisis. Luckily, my wife Sofie and our son Valentino fully support this self-inflicted mission.
Life is a struggle. Particularly when you’re split between places. That split has been my burden. Yet being a multiculturite is also a blessing, and perhaps my unfair advantage.
Okay, José. Whoop-t-doo. Good for you. 😮💨
Truth is, I don’t know.
Maybe because I can, at least technically, and I don’t take that for granted.
Maybe because this journey is a mini-version of what I’m trying to do with my life: earn a living as a storyteller while navigating the AI revolution.
Maybe because the bumpy road to fatherhood taught me just how scarce time really is.
The seed was planted around my 30th birthday. Bjarke, my Danish teacher, gave me a book documenting a Dutchman’s journey from Amsterdam to Singapore.
As the wrapping fell away, the title stopped me. Amsterdam to Singapore... on a bicycle? Wait, what? 😳
Then came the jolt of wonder. Something I hadn’t felt for the longest time.
By the time I finished it, I couldn’t stop wondering whether I could do something like that.
That was almost a decade ago. Today, I’m finally finding out.
In the months leading up to this, I’ve been collecting reasons. Reasons for leaving. But what’s the point in polishing them now? I’m more interested in noticing how the why changes as I make my way south.
Maybe, deep down, I simply want to know whether I can. Maybe this is an escape valve from my neat life in the Nordics. Maybe I won’t make it all the way. The uncertainty is certainly part of the appeal.
I’m travelling from Copenhagen to Barcelona under my own leg power. Most of my life, travel has been ticket, machine, new place. New machine this time, except I’m doing the work and moving slowly. I’m keen to experience the places between the coordinates on a map.
I’ll converse with people I know who have made a life elsewhere. Strangers I meet on the road. Anyone willing to share their story and tell me what belonging means to them.
Films, field notes, field recordings and unfinished ideas will emerge while I’m moving. They’re my attempt to catch what I sense before hindsight tidies it up. The expedition is the documentary’s raw draft, shared in real time.
Such a simple, frequently asked question. It used to cause me distress. Shame, even. Not because I couldn’t answer it calmly. I could. I might have looked confident, rehearsed, even funny. The calm was part of the performance.
Quick version or long? Do you mean where I was born? My country of origin? Where I consider myself from? My parents? Where I live now? Each answer is just the tip of the same massive iceberg.
What if the better question is...
Can home be multiple countries?
A place?
A language... or maybe a mixture of many?
A person?
A people?
A memory?
Something we carry and continually modify?
The question no longer unsettles me in the same way, and I’m not looking for definitive answers. I’m collecting parallels between people who left, people who stayed, the places that shaped us and the places we chose.
Two circles. Eleven gears. A simple machine. My angel, accomplice and means of moving slowly enough to pay attention.
Thin fabric and mesh walls become my proverbial snail shell. A practical experiment in how shelter transforms into home.
Lily and Ikarus are my cameras, notebook and connection to the people following along.
Latest segments
Each completed segment appears here after it syncs from DURA.
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Know someone along the route?
Want to share a story about home or belonging?
Maybe you simply want to cheer me on?
Replies may arrive at a snail’s pace, but I read and respond to every message. 🐌
Email JoséWatch visual dispatches from where the tyre meets the road and the adventure unfolds.
Watch on YouTubeRead unfiltered thoughts and reflections collected along the way.
Read on SubstackCome along
Occasional notes from the road, invitations to shape the documentary and first notice of screenings.
Support the expedition
Contributions put a little more water in the bottle and a little more road beneath Angelica’s Pirellis. Stripe lets you choose the amount.
