Why a bicycle? "The bicycle gave me the freedom to go just about anywhere I wanted and forced me to travel at such a slow pace that I really got to know the countries I was traveling through," he explained.
"It's remarkable how just being able to say hello to someone you're passing can completely transform your experience of a place," he said. Here, villagers converse on the side of the road in the eastern Turkish town of Savsat.
Gandy spent a couple of hours chatting, drinking tea, and playing backgammon with stall owners in the new market building in the Turkish city of Ardahan.
High in the Anatolian Plateau, this woman rolls out dough and prepares dinner while the men of the family look after the livestock.
While difficult, the most challenging roads ended up being the most rewarding. "Those were the times when I really felt like I had found the adventure I was seeking at the beginning," he said.
In Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, he met up with another British bicyclist, Jon, who was heading east. They both crossed the Caspian Sea by ferry and were soon biking through the desolate deserts of Uzbekistan.
"There are far more cycle tourists out there than you would probably imagine," Gandy said.
He met many of them while waiting in hostels for visas to be processed. "It became a close-knit community very quickly," he said. "And as we all bumped into each other again and again, a great camaraderie grew between us."
East of Dushanbe in Tajikistan, rolling hills quickly changed to rocky mountains.
Cycling through Tajikistan's Badakhshan National Park, he came across these three men fishing. They used a strange technique that involved slapping the water, scaring the fish from their hiding spots, and then grabbing them with a net.
Resu and his grandson live in a small, dusty village in Kyrgyzstan. They are supported by family members who work in faraway cities.
Gandy had many experiences of kindness during his journey. Aybek, for example, offered to host Gandy in his home in the Kyrgyz village of Kok-Dzhar.
Gandy accidentally wandered onto an onion plantation where this man was butchering a sheep. He and his family treated Gandy to a lamb dinner with tea and vodka, telling him tales of hunting on the steppes.
When I started receiving invitations into people's homes, they really started me thinking about how we in the West treat strangers," Gandy said. "I don't think that a Tajik man cycling through Surrey would be treated the same as I was, which saddens me.
It soon changed to winter upon Gandy's arrival in Kazakhstan.
The unrelenting winter caught up again just over the western border of China.
But upon turning south, Gandy met another extreme: the wide Gobi Desert.
The road across the Tibetan Plateau is long and arduous, and any restaurant along the desert highway is a welcome respite.
China was by far the toughest country for Gandy, and not just because of the rough and wildly shifting weather. A pickpocket in Lanzhou lifted his wallet, stranding him until he could get a wire transfer.
"The number of people, the language barrier, busy roads, and the economic revolution which has destroyed so much of their natural heritage make [China] the most difficult country I've travelled through," he said.
"Everywhere I have been there is always somebody digging up a river bed, mining a cliff face, damming rivers and manipulating nature at the expense of complex ecosystems and social structures," Gandy said.
But in the midst of China's woes, kindness has always prevailed. Villagers often built fires for his campsites and offered meals and entertainment. Just a little bit of company can mean a great deal when you're on the road.
He spent Christmas Eve in a local villager's home and was fed a simple meal of fried pork and rice. He said it was the best meal he'd had on the whole trip.
"[My host] didn't realize the significance of that day, but the act brought me to tears," Gandy said.
On Christmas Day he helped out on the family's humble farm, picking radishes and herding cows. Gandy was blown away by how readily they helped him, and he wished to give back to them in any way he could.
Just up the road he bumped into Daniel, who accompanied him through Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, and Stephane, a French cyclist whom he repeatedly crossed paths with throughout Central Asia.
They camped together and happily shared their stories in the Laotian jungles.
River crossings were a welcome chance to cool off.
The winding roads through Laos are remote, but the forests were bustling with activity nonetheless. Workers advised him to stay on the road, lest he run over a bomb left over from the country's civil wars.
In Cambodia, Gandy stayed overnight at a local monastery.
He came across an incredible amount of kindness during his journey, and Gandy says he learned a great deal about himself and others.
Most importantly, he said, "Don't give up. Never ever give up."
By the time he reached Thailand, the trip he could barely remember starting was almost at an end. "If you believe in what you're doing and work hard at it with the right attitude it'll be alright in the end." And 14,000 miles later, it was.
