Stijn van Parys has completed a cycling journey from Belgium to South Africa during which he raised awareness about menstruation and acted as an important male voice in addressing the taboos surrounding it.
The 28-year-old, from Bruges, said the year-long trip was the culmination of a long fascination he had had with travel-cycling.
“I picked up [on doing] more adventurous cycling with friends as I entered university and fell in love with it.”
Stijn van Parys, a 28-year-old Belgian cyclist, underwent a challenging one-year journey from Belgium to South Africa as he raised awareness about menstruation matters. Photo: Supplied
He said the idea of cycling across Africa to Cape Town arose in a student bar after a couple of beers 10 years ago. He was hanging out with friends when one of them asked what the ultimate adventure would be.
He replied that a journey across the continent would by far be unparalleled in terms of nature and culture.
The idea slowly grew from that day onwards and he started to research if it was feasible. What route would be safe to cycle? How long would it take? What would it cost? Slowly but surely the dream turned into a plan.
“Last year I finally decided to put action to words and I wanted to dedicate the journey to charity, to turn what is essentially a personal dream into something positive for others as well.”
He contacted a friend at WoMena, a Ugandan-based NGO that focuses on menstrual health, and sounded them out on whether they were interested in having a male ambassador for their cause.
“The idea was that I would blog throughout and use this as a platform to inform people about WoMena and menstrual health in general.”
Van Parys created a website where people could follow him as he regularly posted stories and pictures, as well as touching on WoMena’s activities.
One of their programmes was to supply girls in the Rhino Refugee Camp in northern Uganda with reusable pads and menstrual cups.
“I believe there is still a lot of progress to be made in enabling girls around the world to manage their menstrual cycles in a way that allows them to go about their lives unhindered. I also believe this is an issue that remains relatively unknown, therefore raising awareness is needed.
“In Uganda, and elsewhere in Africa, many girls miss days at school because they lack basic means to manage menstruation. I believe access to basic hygiene is a right and is part of a larger path to female empowerment.”
He added that the well-being of girls during menstruation was also influenced by how a society viewed it. To this end, male involvement was key, more specifically the role of men in breaking taboos surrounding menstruation.
He felt if boys learnt from an early age what menstruation was they would be supportive of their female peers, thereby allowing girls to feel more comfortable.
“Finally, in June last year, I quit my job and started cycling one month later. A group of friends joined me on the first day and my cousin came along for two weeks before I continued alone and eventually arrived in Cape Town on July 19.
“It took me one year and three days to cover 20 558km across 21 countries.”
Stijn van Parys arrived in Cape Town after a one-year cycling journey from Belgium. Photo: Supplied
Van Parys, who holds a master’s degree in economics and worked as a financial analyst and then a product manager for a bank in Brussels, said the journey meant everything to him.
“I’d recommend everyone who has a dream to do the same. Of course it was not always easy.
“My family was worried about some of the more dangerous areas that I would be cycling through,” he said, referring to the so-called “red zones” in the Western Sahara, Mauritania, Mali and so on, “but as soon as I started cycling all fear faded away.”
Van Parys said he received many different reactions to what he was doing. Some people thought he was crazy, some admired his courage and others were fascinated by his taste for adventure.
“Some Africans I met along the road told me that they see my journey as a proof of my love for Africa. I love to hear that.
“Cycling 20 558km through savannah, desert and rainforest is first and foremost a declaration of love for the endless diversity and natural beauty of this continent.”
He also faced obstacles of many kinds. The first one was mental. “It’s scary to quit a relatively stable life to cycle thousands of kilometres on a continent that, sadly, has some serious security risks.
“I contacted some embassies to receive feedback on safety. Mali for example was quite a difficult one. The Belgian embassy in Bamako discouraged me from cycling there because of kidnapping risks by terrorists. I’m glad I didn’t listen. Malians are very welcoming and cared a lot about my safety.”
There was also the physical challenge of cycling far and wide. He found out that it was very different from any other form of exercise he had done. He cycled in 45°C heat for three weeks in Mauritania and the Western Sahara. This, combined with sleeping in a tent and having a fully loaded bicycle that weighed in at 60kg, including 20 litres of water, added an extra dimension to physical exhaustion.
“I drank more than 10 litres of water per day during those weeks, yet I was still thirsty. Because I lost a lot of liquid and minerals I also battled muscle cramps, which troubled me at night. When I arrived at the Senegal River, where the Sahara turns into greenland, I was a dead man cycling.”
Lastly, some areas were more hostile to foreigners. He cycled in villages where every child threw stones at him and adults tried to snatch things off his bicycle or tried to make him fall. “Luckily 99 per cent of African villages are warm and welcoming, so these were relatively isolated incidents.”
He also camped wild many times where he would put his tent in the jungle, lock his bicycle to a tree and sleep. Sometimes he did it because he was in a very remote area and there was no other option, but most of the time he did it because he liked it.
“One evening in Rwanda I put up my tent in a banana plantation. Some kids saw me, although I didn’t see them, and they informed the village chief about my presence. The village chief thought I was a banana thief, so he came to my tent with a gun and two of his boys with machetes.
“I stepped out and shook their hands and noticed they were stunned to see me. As soon as the chief’s fear to face a thief faded away, about 30 children came out of the bushes to see what the fuss was about. I ended up sleeping in the chief’s house and his wife made a delicious local dish.”
One of his best memories was the desert nights in the Sahara (Mauritania). Because there had been kidnappings before, the police set up checkpoints every 50km, which was a pick-up truck with a blanket in the sand and five soldiers.
“When I arrived at a checkpoint in the late afternoon or the evening, the head would come to me and tell me that I couldn’t leave until the next morning. I would sit next to the soldiers on the blanket, drinking tea and sharing stories.
“They even offered me turtle meat. At night I set up my tent and fell asleep knowing that five soldiers with AK-47s where keeping an eye on me.”
He said when he arrived in Cape Town, the moment did not feel very special as he was focusing on the traffic and trying not to get hit by taxis.
“The weeks leading up to that day did feel special. A year on a bicycle, and also the realisation of an old dream, almost felt surreal.
“I also knew that I was going to miss my life on my bicycle as well as the many nights of camping wild in the jungle. However, I was looking forward to seeing friends and family at home.”
Van Parys said he was still taking in all the experiences of the past 12 months, so he had no idea where he would end up or what he would do next.
“But that’s how I like it for now. One day at a time.”
