Paul checking over his gearing whilst out on the road in Italy 🇮🇹 Built over four day workshop

Somewhere in Tuscany, against a sun-warmed brick wall, Paul stops to check his gearing. It's the kind of moment that defines touring: the small adjustments, the problem-solving, the intimacy of knowing your machine.

The details catch the eye first: camo bar tape for personality, orange anodized hardware for bling, EVOC saddlebag for carrying essentials. A Tour de Sands bottle suggests Paul knows good cycling events.

That stance — crouched over the rear derailleur, one hand stabilising the frame — is universal. Every cyclist recognises it. Something shifted, something clicked, something needs attention before the next climb.

Italian roads are demanding. The surfaces change constantly, the gradients surprise you, the descents test your nerve. Having a bike you built yourself means understanding exactly how to fix it when something needs adjusting.

The natural bamboo looks perfect against that terracotta brick. There's a colour harmony that feels accidental but probably isn't — Paul clearly has an eye for this stuff.

Building your own bike means moments like this aren't frustrations; they're conversations. The bike tells you what it needs, you listen, you respond. Partnership rather than ownership.

Gears sorted, Italy awaits. Andiamo, Paul. 🇮🇹