When a world record attempt went horribly wrong, these friends held tight

Sydneysiders Valerio De Simoni, Kris 'Ted' Davant and Jamie Kenyon wanted to do something remarkable in the years after graduating from high school.

Deciding to cross three continents on bulky quad bikes, raising money for Oxfam's battle against global poverty, their Guinness World Record-breaking attempt was supposed to be the adventure of a lifetime.

And it was, but disaster struck, and De Simoni never made it home.

New horizons

Bittersweet Italian Film Festival highlight Sand Roads follows their ill-fated voyage of discovery. It began in Istanbul, where the young men crossed the continent-spanning Bosphorus Bridge from Asia into Europe and then on to Africa.

"Every day we woke up, it was something completely different," Davant says. "It was a rite of passage, and so many people helped us along that road."

They'd often pinch themselves. 

"One night we were camped under the stars in the middle of the Maasai Mara with a tribal leader," Davant recalls. "We were just absorbing it, open to whatever happens. Whether it's the culture or the landscape, you're laughing, or you're dealing with your next challenge."

And there were many challenges, particularly breakdowns; both of De Simoni and Kenyon's occasionally fraying tempers, butting heads with a perma-jolly Davant in the middle, and also the mechanical sort, battering their quads.

"These are basically farm bikes, and they're really slow, doing around 70kms an hour," Davant says, grinning. "We took them across three continents, 37 countries and 60,000 kilometres.

"They're sturdy, but they're not really designed for that."

Centurion's return

Directed by Lorenzo Conte and Gabriele Gianni, Sand Roads combines the lads' extensive camcorder footage with De Simoni's diary entries and new interviews with his mum, Vittoria Pasquini, alongside Kenyon and Davant.

When De Simoni's cruel and senseless death comes, your heart breaks for Kenyon and Davant, dealing with the aftermath.

"Of course it's sad, when you look back at the footage," Davant tells ABC Arts.

"But the memories are also amazing, looking back at us laughing with Valerio again. It's like going back into a time capsule. There's a lot more beauty within those memories than tragedy."

One of the most affecting moments comes when the boys ride into Rome and De Simoni, born in Sydney, bursts with pride at catching up with his mum's family.

"At that moment, we were having a bit of a chuckle, because he's talking about him being like a Roman centurion coming home," Davant says.

"Like, chill bro. But seeing that footage again and reflecting on it now, you realise that it just meant so much to him."

A lion's pride

It was a moment of pride for Ms Pasquini, too. She travelled the world with De Simoni's father before settling in Australia at 37.

"Being an Italian-Australian, Valerio went through different phases," she recalls. "At first, he spoke only Italian. Then, when he went to school, he started speaking only English.

"But he went to Italy in 2001, the year AS Roma won the Scudetto [Italian soccer league], and at that point he became Italian again, including dressing like one."

Ms Pasquini notes that that dual identity came through in De Simoni's diary, which she says is alive with his words in both languages.

It was discovered amongst De Simoni's things, with the family later publishing it as a travelogue. His thoughts are adopted as Sand Roads' narration, including his musings on his father, who also died young, at 35.

"His dad was an important part of Valerio's journey," Ms Pasquini says. "He remembers him vividly in his diary, writing about being a Leo, then meeting lions and recalling that his father lived in Nairobi and saw them as well. So there was this strong connection between father and son."

De Simoni died while Ms Pasquini was on the plane, racing to be by his side in Africa, but she says she knew he'd gone before she landed and received the terrible news.

Watching the footage of the trip gave Ms Pasquini a visceral feeling of being there with her son. "They used the camera as if it was a fourth person travelling with them," she says.

She's eternally grateful to Davant and Kenyon for their enduring friendship, following De Simoni's death.

"We decided to get together regularly, having pasta together every two or three weeks," she says. "Sometimes there were tears, but it was a beautiful healing process for the three of us."

Davant and Kenyon, and many of De Simoni's mates, aided Ms Pasquini in establishing the Valerio Daniel De Simoni Association, honouring his charitable spirit by supporting refugees and First Nations youth.

"I've tried to carry on his legacy," she says. "There was a chorus of people who had followed the journey, and then, when the tragedy happened, decided to do something in Valerio's memory. We've done a lot of wonderful things together and I'm proud of that."

Blossoming future

The association is a great comfort to Davant, as was completing the world record attempt, alongside Kenyon, in De Simoni's honour.

"We made a promise to each other as best mates, when we started, that we'd finish it, no matter what," he says. "Jamie and I getting back on the road allowed us to talk a lot. Like Vittoria says, it was a healing process."

Now, they're world record-holders. "We were three ordinary guys who had a dream," Davant smiles. "If you can dream it, it is possible. Even when bad things happen, you come together and build something positive from it."

Ms Pasquini's overjoyed her son's life is being honoured at the Italian Film Festival. "From Valerio's death, one can understand the importance of the present moment and the fact that life is unpredictable. It's important that we all live the best we can.

"It's like a flower is growing out of that mess, and that blossom gives you strength."