The End
Istanbul
Months of planning and a lifetime of training led to May 7th, when I set out from the Atlantic Ocean with one goal: to cross Europe on foot and reach the Bosporus Strait — the threshold between continents. Ninety-nine days later, after 2,859 miles through 12 countries and 99 different “homes,” I stepped into Istanbul and then looked out to Asia.
Crossing the United States in 2021 taught me that nothing ever goes fully to plan — injuries, logistics, fatigue, and chance encounters all shape the road. Then, I broke too hard out of the gate and lost six weeks to a stress fracture. This time I nearly repeated the mistake, but with the guidance of Coach Lisa and the will of Ted, I worked through a low-level injury before it became catastrophic. Outside of a health or family emergency, nothing was going to stop the relentless forward progress.
The geography was staggering: Portugal’s Caminho valleys and Atlantic coast, the foggy Pyrenees of France, Provence’s lavender hills, Italy’s Ligurian cliffs and Roman ruins, the entire Dalmatian coastline of Croatia with the Adriatic at my side, Albania’s rugged highlands, Greece’s Macedonian valleys, and Turkey’s Thracian plains leading to the Bosporus. To my right — turquoise seas. To my left — mountains, forests, and plateaus. I endured cold, wind, and rain at the start and searing heat at the finish, but every mile was wonderful.
The food told its own story. Portuguese vinho verde with grilled fish, French Burgundy with oysters, Italian pasta along the Riviera, Croatian olive oil by the sea, Albanian mountain cheeses, Greek meze, and Turkish kebabs. Each region had millennia to perfect its pairings, and in the early weeks I loved sampling local wines with grapes I’d never heard of. For the last two months it was just a beer.
Christina and I lived like nomads, checking into 99 different hotels with the mantra: “It’s only for one night.” For 50–60 euros, two beds, a/c, and breakfast were all we needed. Jax claimed the gap between the beds as his spot, and every morning we packed up and moved again.
The history was everywhere. Roman roads underfoot in Italy and the Balkans. Medieval fortresses in Spain and France. Byzantine echoes in Greece. Ottoman relics in the Balkans and Turkey. Archaeological digs in Albania. Every step carried the weight of those who walked these same paths before me.
But the real highlight was the people. From café owners in Albania to villagers in Croatia, from fellow pilgrims on the Caminho to strangers who stopped me out of curiosity, I was reminded of the same lesson I learned running across America: people are overwhelmingly generous. Borders, languages, and religions fade quickly in the presence of kindness. I’ll never forget running across the United States with Chris in the first few days when he had on the to do list, “stop at Walmart for baseball bat just in case.” By the end of the trip we laughed at how wrong we were!
The 99 days are a collage, a slow-motion reel of Europe’s landscapes, history, and humanity. Standout memories include:
Running foggy Pyrenees trails with Ted, then sharing oysters and Burgundy with a French mercenary, bushwacking and the Chinese couple we met on the trailj.
Peter and Laura’s trial by fire on their first Camino stage in Provence, finishing under Arles’ Roman coliseum.
Arriving bloodied and elated in Lodeve after hours of solo bushwhacking.
Running the entire Croatian coast with the Adriatic glowing blue beside me.
Roman ruins in Italy, the Neolithic dig in Maliq, Albania, and Byzantine remnants in Greece.
The unique magic of every Camino route, no matter where it runs.
And there were countless smaller moments: a boy calling Jax over as if it were his own dog, a café owner’s gift of pastries, a villager offering cold water on a scorching climb.
I am grateful for every step and every voice of encouragement. Doug, Shannon, Laura, Matt, Alastair, Rob W, Dan, Mel, Chico Suave, and everyone who commented on the blog — your words fueled my mornings. John, Peter, Laura, Jim, Dave, George, Dan, Amy, Bob, Lisa, Skip, Gabe, and others who called or texted — it meant the world. Coach Lisa prepared me perfectly. Ted made it his mission to will me through.
To my partner Christina - you made it all possible as the anchor, carrying the logistics, the stress and the joy every single day, including Jax.
And finally to Monica, who supports my crazy dreams, obrigado.
It is time now to fold up the circus tent, put the animal back in the cage, and dream of whatever comes next.
As St. Paul wrote (thanks Skip), “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
Til next time.
Cheers,
David.
P.s. I told our hotel staff in Istanbul about the gentleman who was run over and they called the café owner to find out how he was doing. We learned this morning he was released from the hospital without any serious injuries.
