14 months.
25 to 26 countries.
Almost 50,000 km.
Malaysia all the way to London.
Solo one.
On a Yamaha Tenere 700.

I sat down and listened to Taiwanese rider Bing Moto, share his journey.

This one not normal poison.
This is adventure biker poison.

The type of poison that make you balik rumah, close the door, and quietly whisper to yourself:
“One day ah. One day.”

Bing said one thing, until now I still remember.
The further you go from the tourist area, the more kind the people become.

He loves the mountains.
He loves the ulu places.
He loves the roads where tour bus and van also won’t go.

I just sat there quietly.
Because that feeling, I know.
2023, I was in Tajikistan.
Pamir Highway.
Bartang Valley.
High mountains.
Teruk roads.
Thin air.

But that time, I was not on a motorbike.
I was on a bicycle. Yes. MTB.

We pedal slowly, and every few days we saw them.
BMW 1200.
KTM 1050.

They wave at us, twist the throttle, 30 seconds also gone already.
We still there.
Pedal.
Breathe.
Suffer.
Repeat.

That image, I never forget.
That day, I told myself:
“One day, I must come back. Central Asia, India, Nepal, Himalaya. On a motorbike.”

That dream, still alive.

But remote travel, not only about motorbike or bicycle one.

The best part is always the people.

In Tajikistan, the villagers gave us apples.
Next village, more apples.
By day three, see apple also scared already.

Then come potatoes.
Onions.
Carrots.
They don’t want money.
Just smile, hand gesture, and give.
We carry all the things up to our high mountain camp and cook ABC soup.

Cold mountain.
Small stove.
Body so tired.
Hot soup.
That one, the best soup of my life.
Some memories, money also cannot buy.

Bing said, don’t wait until you 100% ready.
Just go.

Every day on the road, new experience.
Every day, new adventure.

I think many bikers understand this one.
We don’t ride because it is easy.
We ride because somewhere inside us, there is still a small boy who wants to know what is behind the next mountain.

But the dream still there.

For me, Bing’s story not only inspire me.
It poisoned me.
Good poison.
Adventure poison.

One day, I want to ride Central Asia, India, Nepal and Himalaya properly.

Not by tour bus.
Not by Instagram only.
Not by watching other people’s reels until midnight.
On a motorbike.