Nobody Told Me It Was a TV Show
There's a comparison I keep seeing in the comments. Someone posts a photo of Ewan McGregor on a BMW, tags me, and writes something along the lines of: "Wasn't this basically the same thing?"
No. It was not basically the same thing. Allow me to explain, with numbers, because numbers don't require diplomacy.
This is not written to criticise Ewan McGregor or Charley Boorman. Long Way Round was a genuinely entertaining TV series and both of them rode hard. But La Vida Vespa was something categorically different, and after years of reading comments from people who apparently believe that any motorcycle journey involving more than one country qualifies as "around the world," I have decided to produce a comparison.
Here it is.
The Numbers
| Long Way Round | La Vida Vespa | |
|---|---|---|
| Bikes | BMW R1150GS | Vespas |
| Age of bikes | New | 17–39 years old |
| Engine | 1,130cc | 125–177cc |
| Power | 85hp | 7–9hp average |
| Budget | $500,000 | €25,000 |
| Sponsoring | >100% | 15% |
| Kilometres | 30,395 | 27,113 |
| Continents | 3 | 3 |
| Countries | 9 | 18 |
| Days | 115 | 77+3 |
| Avg km/day | 264 | 399 |
| Team size | 9+ | 1 |
| Support vehicles | 3 (+ helicopter) | 0 |
| Doctor | 1 | 0 |
| Camera crew | 1 | 0 |
| Truck | 1 | 0 |
| Logistical support | Yes | No |
| Tank size | 22.5 litres | 7–8 litres |
| Top speed | 195 km/h | 95 km/h |
Let me highlight a few of these lines.
Their budget was $500,000. Mine was €25,000 — roughly 5% of theirs. They were more than 100% sponsored, meaning the trip made money before it started. I self-funded 85% of mine out of savings, after quitting my job and giving up my flat and, as a bonus, my girlfriend. I came home broke, homeless, and unemployed. They came home to a TV deal.
They had nine people in the team. I had myself. They had three support vehicles and a helicopter. I had a toolkit and whatever I could carry on 40–50 kilograms of luggage — which had to include spare parts, because in Georgia, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan and Russia, Vespa parts are essentially impossible to source. I was carrying my own breakdown insurance in a bag.
Their daily average was 264 kilometres. Mine was 399. On machines with 10% of the engine capacity, half the fuel range, half the wheel size, brakes that would make a modern motorcycle owner weep, and an average age of somewhere between 17 and 39 years. My daily average was 28% higher than theirs. On old Vespas. Alone.
They rode through 9 countries. I rode through 18. They covered 30,395 kilometres in 115 days. I covered 27,113 kilometres — 89% of their distance — in 77 riding days. That's 70% of their time.
The Equipment Myth
Nobody needs a ridiculously expensive BMW GS 1300 Adventure or a massive KTM with every conceivable accessory and a space-warrior survival suit to go on the adventure of a lifetime. In fact, I would argue the opposite is true: expensive, purpose-built equipment is the perfect excuse to never go. "I can't afford to travel the world" — said by someone who could fund three of my world tours with what they spent on the bike alone.
The smaller and less suitable the machine, the bigger the adventure. The less gear you carry, the more skills you acquire. The more things go wrong, the better the stories. This is not a coincidence. This is how it works.
Don't believe the marketing. The adventure is not in the equipment. It never was.
What "Around the World" Actually Means
I also want to address the other category of comment: the people who informed me that my trip didn't count as a circumnavigation because I hadn't visited every country, or every continent, or because I used a plane, or because it was "only a scooter."
Around the world means a full 360-degree circle of the planet in one direction. The equator is 40,000 kilometres. Not all of it is on land, which means at some point you need a boat or a plane. I used four flights and two ferries — only where I had no alternative — and rode the longest possible distance on land on each continent. Madrid to Vladivostok. San Diego to New York. Utrecht to Madrid.
27,113 kilometres. Eastbound. Madrid to Madrid. That is a circumnavigation.
How many people have ridden around the world on a BMW? Hundreds. How many have documented a full circumnavigation on a Vespa? Fewer than ten. How many have done it alone in 80 days? One.
What Nobody Films
Here is what the Long Way Round cameras captured: two famous actors having an adventure, supported by a doctor, a logistics team, a camera crew, and enough budget to solve most problems money can solve.
Here is what my trip looked like from the inside.
You ride every day and every hour the machine works. You ride into nights. You ride in rain and in heat up to 46°C and in cold down to 5°C. You ride through a thunderstorm in the Montenegro mountains at night, a typhoon in Siberia, two hurricanes — one in Hawaii, one in Virginia — and a tornado in Kansas. You ride through floods, sand, and construction sites. You ride when you have diarrhoea. You ride with a displaced collarbone from a tyre blowout. You ride when your rain gear is broken and your lights have stopped working and your whole body hurts from 600 kilometres the day before.
You wait five to seven days in the harbour of Baku because the Caspian ferry terminal has no timetable and the boat leaves when it leaves. You lose four hours at one border crossing, five at another, twelve at a third. You run out of fuel twice despite carrying seven extra litres. You get attacked by a bull and three dogs. You nearly ride into a camel. You nearly ride into a coyote. A drunk driver nearly takes you out 200 kilometres outside Vladivostok.
You lose a motorcycle jacket, a power bank, and a cap. Your cylinder fails. Two clutches go. Three CDIs. Two burst tyres. The complete rear brake. Two spark plugs. Two spark plug connectors. A luggage rack. A damper.
And through all of it, you manage that daily average of 350 to 450 kilometres, or the whole thing falls apart.
Or, as I wrote at the time: "Maybe a lot more things happen and that was just the beginning of the list. Or it was just me."
The Resume
Long Way Round was a fully sponsored, high-budget film production by two actors with a large support group for logistics, filming, and medical emergencies. It was a great show and I watched it myself. I have no grievance with Ewan McGregor or Charley Boorman.
La Vida Vespa was the biggest life adventure of a nobody from Kempten with a small wallet and three old scooters, who planned for three years, saved every euro, quit his job, gave up his flat, and rode alone around the planet.
Not comparable. Not in the same category. Not in any parallel universe.
But here is the point I actually want to make: if a nobody from Kempten can do this on €25,000 and three Vespas older than some of my readers, then the barrier is not money or equipment. The barrier is deciding to go.
I was never rich and will probably never be — only in experiences and memories. That has turned out to be enough.
Around the world on a BMW? Hundreds of people. Around the world on a Vespa? Documented fewer than ten. In 80 days, alone? One.