I lost my dad last night. He has battled cancer for three years. We were all in the room when he passed away : his six girls and my mum, plus many of his grandkids too. I can tell you that there was a whole lot of love packed into that little room. It was sad and beautiful all at once.

“Holy Sh*t I’m going to die!” are words that have crossed my mind many, many times on my last two bike rides from London to Cape Town via the Middle East and from Korea to Cape Town via the Axis of Evil. I got shot at in Afghanistan, knocked off my bicycle (lots) by taxi drivers in South Africa …

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