Dino Lanzaretti has crossed the world by bicycle, not to chase records or achievements, but to understand places through slowness and presence. For him, the bike is not a vehicle: it’s a way of listening, of meeting people, of accepting reality as it is.

This is the story of a journey made of effort, trust, and human encounters, one pedal stroke at a time.

Traveling by Bicycle


I have traveled the world by bicycle. Not as a sporting feat, not as an athletic achievement, but as a natural way of being in places.

The bicycle has always been my tool for understanding the world: slow, essential, honest. It doesn’t isolate you, it doesn’t protect you, it doesn’t create distance. It exposes you. To the unforgiving wind, the cold that gets into your bones, the rain that arrives without warning, the dust that gets everywhere. Riding a bike forces you to feel every kilometer and to earn every arrival.

Cycling means accepting reality as it is. You can’t speed up when you’re tired, you can’t skip difficult stretches, you can’t cheat. Every day is made of simple, continuous choices: when to stop, when to eat, when to push a little harder. It’s a school of patience and listening. And perhaps that’s why the bicycle, more than any other way of moving, teaches you how to live in the present.
Over time, I understood that the bicycle speaks a universal language. Wherever you are in the world, a bike loaded with bags tells the same story. It says you’re there to travel, not to consume. That you accept the effort, that you’re not in a hurry, that you’re willing to stop. Cycling starts conversations without words, builds trust, and lowers defenses. That’s how I met the world, one pedal stroke at a time. And that’s how the world met me.

Among People


I have always felt incredibly lucky -blessed by God, without fear of using big words. Traveling by bicycle has taken me exactly where I needed to be: among people.

Not in iconic places or points marked on maps, but in homes, courtyards, and along side roads where no one expects to meet a stranger. The encounters I’ve had while cycling have left a deeper mark on me than any landscape. Simple gestures. Unexpected help. Sudden invitations. Looks exchanged when you’re tired and vulnerable.
Cycling doesn’t make you special, but it makes you accessible. Human. Recognizable.

While traveling, I learned that you don’t need to speak the same language to understand one another. You need time. You need presence. You need to show yourself for who you are, without roles and without masks. When you arrive by bike, you represent nothing but yourself. And that is its greatest strength: it strips away everything superfluous and places you on the same level as the people you meet.

Sharing the Road


Over the years, I realized that this experience couldn’t remain mine alone. Cycling had given me so much that sharing it became a necessity.

I began taking part in events, talks, and informational evenings, trying to explain a simple truth: you don’t need to do anything extraordinary to start. You need a bicycle, honest preparation, the ability to accept the unexpected, and the willingness to step outside your comfort zone. Travel isn’t heroism - it’s a choice. It’s deciding to listen.

With the rise of social media, I spent countless hours replying to people I didn’t know, all asking the same question: “How do you get started?” In those words, I saw desire and curiosity. I saw myself at the beginning, with the same insecurities and the same need for freedom. I understood then that the bicycle wasn’t just my way of traveling—it was a bridge, a way to help others take their first step.

Many people think setting off is an act of courage. I believe it’s first and foremost an act of trust. Trust in yourself, in others, in the fact that solutions appear along the way. Traveling by bicycle doesn’t remove difficulties, but it teaches you how to handle them-breaking problems into smaller pieces, like a long climb, meter by meter, breath by breath.

Today, I share this in a concrete way. I accompany people on bicycle journeys around the world, experiencing with them the fatigue, the doubt, the slowness, and the wonder. I create spaces to talk about preparation, safety, equipment, and conscious choices. Because getting on a bike and leaving isn’t a heroic act. It’s a skill that can be learned, a process that makes you more independent and more present.
Watching others set off is one of the most powerful experiences of my life. Seeing them change day by day, becoming more confident, more curious, more open. That’s what cycling does. It tests you without judging you. It teaches you to trust your body and your decisions. It gives back a form of freedom that isn’t escapism, but awareness.

Cycling taught me that travel isn’t about escaping. It’s about slowing down, observing, and truly exposing yourself. Because only when you expose yourself do you begin to understand people. And when you understand people, you begin to understand the world.

From that moment on, your life will never be the same.