A few commentators seemed to think the idea was impractical if not a little loopy altogether. Won't the kids get bored while they're sitting in the trailers; what if you get a flat tyre; where will you put your bikes at night? What if it's dark, if the kids get cold or tired, if you get injured? You'd save so much time by taking an aeroplane. You'd be able to see more if you had a car... The list of well-wishing doubters was sizeable.

I was in two minds about the expedition. On the one hand, we were a family of adventurers: problem solvers, challenge-relishers. It was precious, outdoor, screen-free, come-what-may, time together. On the other hand, it might just have been the antithesis of sensible parenting. Honestly, I was neither sure nor deterred…

It was winter time in Sicily and Mount Etna had begun to experience significant eruptive activity. Neither of these elements augured particularly well for favourable bikepacking conditions, especially with young kids in tow…

There had been bullying in the workplace.

Don’t let the bastards get you down! Ignore them! Take the high road! Fight back!

But, it doesn’t work like that. None of it works like that.

For reasons about which i can only hypothesise, bullies deliver an insidious and creeping tap, tap, tapping. Day after day and year upon year they chip away with unrestrained relational harassment until there is no remaining sense of self.

The bullies in my case - a handful of cliqued-up, middle-aged women - had needlessly cut down a caring and competent peer. The experience left me broken and struggling to take care of my family. The sum of it all was both a timeless tragedy and a timely reflection of zeitgeist; sometimes the bullies win.

And so it was in the midst of existential crisis and my shattered self-esteem that our second attempt at family bikepacking began…