Experience: I cycled the length of the UK on a wooden bike

Since coming to England from Ethiopia eight years ago, I’ve lost parts of my cultural identity. I was stuck in a monotonous, isolated routine studying for a biochemistry degree at Imperial College London, without the family-centred lifestyle I was used to. Back in Ethiopia, I’d be surrounded by my aunt, grandparents, friends.

So this year, I took 12 months out and moved to my uncle’s house in Leeds. The change helped me try new things, like cycling: as a child, I had never ridden a bike. I bought one in a charity shop. My friends told me that it was made for a 10-year-old and donated an adult-sized bike to me.

The bike had spent two years in my friend’s garden, so it was in bad shape. I spent a month taking it to a repair shop. I also joined a project called the Hackspace – it’s a community-run workshop for makers – and built a wooden bicycle. It’s mostly made of recycled materials: I used an old flip-flop for the brake. The Hackspace’s director, Mark, suggested I go to John o’Groats and cycle all the way down to the south. At first, I thought that was ridiculous, but then reconsidered it: I wanted to do something new.

I hadn’t planned any logistics, hoping to figure things out as I went. My friends and family didn’t think I’d last a mile. Maybe they had a point: the first three nights were terrible. I hadn’t bought a tent to sleep in; only a tarp to cover myself. I’d packed light, relying only on one cotton shirt. The wind and rain were rough.

I hadn’t brought enough food, either, and had to ask people for help – in those remote parts it was hard to find a shop and I didn’t have much money. These wonderful people were often elderly and isolated, but eager to help. This inspired me to use my journey to fundraise for Age UK and Mekedonia, an Ethiopian charity for vulnerable people.

During the two and a half months I was on the road, I was prepared for the worst. But people offered me their friendship. A DJ discovered my videos on TikTok and sent me money for hotel stays. After I finally bought a tent, people let me pitch up in their gardens. I was invited into homes, garages, village halls and even barns to stay. I met builders in the Scottish village of Tomatin, who offered me a place to stay for the night, and I helped them in return. I spent the next day bricklaying, making friends I still keep in touch with now.

The wooden bicycle caused a stir wherever I went. Locals would go crazy over it. I’d tell them my story, they’d gather their friends and family to take pictures, and donate to my fundraiser.

It wasn’t all easy cycling. During Storm Floris, I was passing through Dalwhinnie, another Scottish village, and desperate for shelter. Then, the loveliest couple invited me in, gave me hot food, took me to their community hall and set up an air mattress for me.