Neil, from Asturia in northern Spain, chose Africa as the first leg of his journey in November 2004. Two years and nine months later, he has cycled down the west coast, from Morocco to Cape Town and then back up to Cairo, covering 30 countries and a whopping 38,000 miles. At each stop, he dons the facepaint to entertain his hosts.

During his interview with Egypt Today, however, he is just a simple man in everyday clothing — no clown suit, no biker’s spandex. Neil worked five years as a lawyer before exchanging his briefcase for a bike — not for a cause or a crisis, but for himself. “I’m not giving any message,” Neil says. “I’m not political. I just want to live my life honestly and live my dream.”

His dream will take 10 years, with every mile covered by bicycle. Neil says that even if someone bought him a plane ticket to Spain, he wouldn’t use it. “I will only go back by bicycle when I finish.”

Neil has cycled across deserts in northern Sudan, Kenya and Mauritania — sometimes in 50 degree temperatures. The longest he has spent in the desert without seeing anybody or replenishing supplies has been two days. Unable to carry more than 20 liters of water at a time, he has honed his survival tactics out in the wild.

“Normally you don’t drink because you need water, it’s [more] because your lips are dry. I would cover my mouth [with a cloth] and put a small stone inside. This generates water, like a sweet does, producing saliva. This way you forget about needing water.”

For food, “I carry rice. I buy some tomatoes, maybe some onions. I don’t buy meat.”

Money is another issue. “The money for this I got 60 percent from myself, 20 percent from sponsors — they give me the material such as bicycle and watch — and 20 percent, I still don’t have, or I get on the road. When someone welcomes me to their home or pays for my internet, then I save money. I spend about $200 per month, for food, accommodation, visas and internet.”

In Cairo, a Spanish friend is putting him up; in most other capitals, he generally spends up to a month. “[Only] if I find a place to stay, as I can’t pay for a hotel. Traveling by bicycle is very cheap. I sleep in my tent, I cook for myself, I have a stove.”

Riding a bicycle loaded with 80 kilograms of belongings across dodgy borders, rough roads and harsh climates clearly requires a certain amount of strength, but Neil downplays the physical effort. “What you really need is not physical energy, it’s mental energy. I don’t think you can cycle around the world when you are 21. Maybe a 21-year-old is much more stronger than myself, but [he has] no mental [energy]. I am 40 now. Physically, many times I was down. I had no energy but my mind pushed my bicycle. It makes me grow up, mentally.”

It’s not always easy to maintain that mental energy. “I don’t smile every day. Today, I am sad,” he says. In his first performance in Cairo the day before, Neil learned about some cultural taboos. “Touching a woman I am a man, okay, I don’t touch you. But I am a clown, I have no rules. Yesterday, my clown had some rules. I don’t like it.

“The way I understand is that a clown is like a kid, and a kid can do whatever. I’ve been in Africa for three years. I do my performances. I grab a woman, I dance. Yesterday I try to catch a woman, she run.”

Why anyone would find a clown threatening is beyond him. “Even a 10-year-old girl. I tried to give two kisses, no way! The show [didn’t go smoothly].

“So, I cannot smile every day.”

Despite an off day here and there, Neil cycles on. “What keeps me going is that I think I’m living my dream. I had friends who died when I was young, and I’m here. I must be happy. Life is not easy, but you must fight. And the bicycle teaches me to fight.

“When I see a map, I can’t believe [the distances]. But if you do everyday a little [] you go very far.”

Neil has much farther to go, but he admits there is one thing that would make him cut the trip short. “I tell you now, it’s a woman. If I meet someday the right woman, I will stop. Right now I didn’t [yet], so I keep on going.”

He smiles and continues, “It’s very difficult to find the right person. I think it’s more easy to cycle around the world!”

Having finished Africa, Neil is taking a break in Cairo to write his book, in which he details his trek across the continent, a journey greatly enriched by the people he has met along the way. “People tell me a lot of personal things because they know that tomorrow I will be leaving.”

When prompted, Neil shares some of his enduring memories. Once, cycling in Sudan, he was extremely exhausted. The map showed no civilization for kilometers, but when he crossed a mountain he found an unmapped village which welcomed him with effusive hospitality.

“People came to me and said, ‘Stay, have shai,’ and they give you food, some place to sleep. They don’t know you, they don’t speak English, I don’t speak Arabic. But they give you everything.

“And you leave next day and maybe you will never see them again, maybe they will never read this interview. But they will always be on my mind. It’s amazing, the hospitality.”

While he has found all of Africa extremely hospitable, Neil says the most caring were “the Nubian people. I think they are the friendliest people I have met in my life.”

Not everyone is a friendly face, though. Sometimes policemen would ask Neil for money. “I’m a clown and magician, so I do some magic, make them laugh and they forget about it.”

Spreading laughter has been a major part of his journey. In every country, Neil has performed clown shows for the disadvantaged, in prisons and hospitals — some 40 performances for over 10,000 people.

After Egypt, Neil will move on to Asia, from there Australia, New Zealand, North America and finally Europe. “For me the most interesting thing of this trip is not the day I reach Spain, it’s everything that happens until the day I reach Spain.”

With the soul of a nomad, Neil is having difficulty staying put here in Egypt. “I look at my bicycle every day crying, ‘Come on, what are we doing here?’ I say, ‘Wait a minute, I have to finish my book, then we go’.” et