​​After months of planning, I finally arrived in Ulaanbaatar on April 26, 2024. I was thrilled and very excited. I had been saving money for a long time, and this was a promising trip: the adventure of a lifetime.

On my first day, I explored the city and bought some essentials I couldn't bring with me on the plane, like gas cans, and I was ready to start the trip! The next day, I hit the road, eager to discover a new world. After leaving UB, I was quickly on dirt roads and could already feel the adventure ahead. The sun was high, and the air was dry—perfect weather for cycling. My bicycle, "The Beast," devoured all the terrain in its path. I spent my first night in the middle of nowhere, under the stars, with a big smile on my face. I slept like a baby; I was tired because the first day had been rough, as it usually is.

When I woke up, I quickly packed my things and was on the road again. I passed horses, sheep, and rivers while rolling down the valley. It was pure freedom. This feeling is like a drug, and it's the main thing I take back from all my other trips. Before dusk, I reached the small town of Undurshireet. There was a small grocery store where I bought some food for the coming days. I then headed towards a small hill where a statue of a knight overlooked the town. The sun was still high as I cooked my dinner. I was exhausted and couldn't wait to go to bed. With the sun's rays warming my face, I quickly fell asleep.

I suddenly woke up to someone gently shaking me. It was dawn, and we were near sunset. A man was standing next to me. We exchanged a few words, but communication was difficult since I don't speak Mongolian. He seemed friendly. I told him my name, and he told me his. I noticed him looking at my bike and motioned for him to try it. I could see he was happy, and so was I—it was my first encounter with a local. I took a photo of him while he was on the bike. After a while, he got off, approached me, and gestured for me to accompany him to what I understood was the village. But I declined, indicating my preference to sleep outside in my bivy. He insisted, and when I refused again, he suddenly changed his tone and became aggressive, shouting words I couldn't understand.

He started walking in circles around me, always yelling, and stopped right in front of me, pulling hard on my bivy and leaving me half-naked on the ground. He threw my belongings aside, approached me, and grabbed me, still yelling. I was shocked and started asking "why" and "stop." But I had no response. In a quick motion, he pushed me to the ground and started shouting louder, clearly furious. I quickly grabbed my GPS and hit the SOS button. He approached and hit me several times on my back and once in the neck while I was curled up. At that moment, when he hit my neck, I felt genuinely terrified, fearing for my life, a feeling I had never experienced before. I screamed so loudly that he seemed startled and backed off, appearing confused and scared. I was half-naked, screaming and crying with no more control over my actions. My crying intensified, and I was shaking with despair. I thought of my knife in my bags, but the only thing that came out of me was tears and screams. He seemed confused. I saw him looking at the village and then at me, with his finger on his lips, as if he wanted me to lower my voice. I quickly understood he was scared of others hearing me, but I couldn’t stop crying. He approached me slowly, still signaling for me to lower my voice, placed his hand over my mouth, held my head, and with his other hand petted me as you would a baby. I understood I had to lower my crying, and that if I calmed down, he would probably leave me alone. Once I was calmer, he stood up, looked at me still shaking, and with his hands signaled me to stay there. He picked up my camping gear and placed it over me to warm me up. He slowly backed away, always indicating for me to stay where I was. In a short time, he was gone.

Alone and scared, I thought only of taking my belongings and hiding. As darkness fell, I moved as far as I could and hid. That night, I had what I now understand was a panic attack. I barely slept, scared of every noise, and at first light, I left the town, wanting to get away as quickly as possible. However, I felt surprisingly weak and struggled to cover 25 km in four hours. At the top of a hill, I realized I couldn’t carry on. I took out my camping gear and went to bed. I slept for about two hours before I began vomiting. Diarrhea followed, and soon there was nothing left inside me. I started realizing that dehydration was becoming a serious threat. I packed my things and was back on the road seeking help. Fortunately, I found a yurt less than a kilometer from where I was, on the other side of the hill. There was a truck, and I kept signaling to the lady that I needed to go to the city. She understood I was not well when I started vomiting again and begging for toilet paper. She was pure kindness, taking me inside her home and doing everything she could to help me. Very weak, I laid down on the floor where I stayed for a few hours. I had to go outside several times to vomit and go to the toilet. I was severely dehydrated, and vomiting was hard with nothing but drops of blood would come out. After a few hours, an ambulance arrived and took me to the hospital in the town I had left. I couldn’t believe I was back in that town. I spent two nights in that hospital. The caregivers helped me in every way they could. While I was at the hospital, I showed the picture of the man who attacked me to one of the nurses and asked her using Google Translate if she knew him. She said yes and asked why. I didn’t answer. I didn’t feel comfortable talking about what happened; I was scared and couldn’t think of anything else except leaving that town. I managed to talk to my family, who got in contact with the insurance company and the Canadian embassy. On my side, I was useless. They found an international clinic in UB where I was treated after the people at the hospital arranged for me to be sent back to the capital.

In UB, the doctor stated it would be better to postpone the trip. I was probably in a state of shock. However, after a few days, I felt like I was giving up. When I was in better shape, I decided to give it another try. I hopped on a bus, went back to the countryside, and cycled for a day. It was a magical day next to some glaciers. During that night, I had a second panic attack when a sheep passed by my bivy. In the morning, I started vomiting again. At that moment, I understood that I should give myself some rest, that Mongolia would still be there in a year or two, and that it was better to come back home. I took the plane back home, and I have to say that I was relieved in many ways, but also terribly sad. I had never thought this could happen, that my trip would end this way.

It took me several weeks to get over this and truly find the pleasure of riding my bike again. I also want to resume this trip eventually, but probably not alone, since I don’t think I would feel comfortable riding in remote places alone anymore.

After a few weeks, I hopped on a plane to Lisbon, where I started a trip across Europe. It felt safer, and it was a truly beautiful journey, also my first time in the old continent! Before the start of classes, I visited my family in Brazil and after all, I had a beautiful summer!

I’m writing about this now at the end of the summer, while I’m still trying to understand what happened. My first reflection is always on how weak I see myself, how much money I’ve lost, how I let down all the people who believed in me, and how I could have done something better instead. I still have dreams about this, and many times I wished he had beaten me more seriously, leaving me with big scars like a soldier coming back from war, so I wouldn’t feel so weak. But no, it took far less to break me down. These mixed feelings haunt me, and I have to remember who I truly am: just a curious boy whose dream is to discover the world. Not a hero, not Indiana Jones—a man with his own and very human limits.

One thing is for sure: I’m not done with the world. I’ll be back, I’ll be more prepared, and more cautious, but on my bike!

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