Fascinating what a trip like this does to your personal standards of hygiene. We (I) have turned into completely disgusting human beings.
We regularly go without shower for five days in a row while cycling several hours a day.
I am happy to wash my face & pits in the sink of a petrol station.
Roadside peeing is a daily event. And the question “Does a cyclist shit in the woods?” needn’t even be asked.
My nails have permanent black edges underneath them no matter how often I wash my hands – if I wash my hands at all.
A tomato that rolled of the cutting board while preparing dinner onto the floor, no worries, we’re gonna cook it anyway. That kills germs, right?
We frequently update each other about the status of our poo, and warn each other about an incoming fart. “Better stay out of the tent, I just farted in here. Enter at your own risk!”
Sniffing each others t-shirts to determine whether they are appropriate for one more day is totally acceptable too. Even if it is the fifth day in a row of wearing said shirt.
“My bum hurts. Can you check if I have a pimple?”
We have become one of those disgusting couples that have spend WAY too much time in each others’ company without other people. So much so that we have developed a language of our own. Phrases like “Guzlofre”, “Caca Belanda” and “Porrete” should probably be added to a dictionary, but of what language?
And why am I sharing this?