She’d ridden around the world solo, crossing mountains, steppes, deserts (the first street bike ever to cross the Gobi Desert was under yellow leathers and hair of dubious origin in 2014). She slept beneath the starts, curled up in yurts, revelled in luxury and lay-bys alike. She flew planes, crawled over rocks, got stranded in Freedom (a town in Siberia). She met poets, politicians, lovers and loners; there was meat and milk but not as she knew it. After all that, Veronica was never gonna slip back into the kitchen quietly, her monomyth was complete, the Gesamkunstwerk presented. She died riding her bike into the Hudson River, NY in September 2015.
11th October 2015