moving along

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Well I'm out of Zambia, one of the happiest nations, well there are always the few non-smillers.
Lusaka to Chipata is a highly populated continuous collection of small farms run by the locals, each with a collection of kids who see me coming from a long way off and welcome me with
"how are you?", "how far?", "where to?" and occassionally "give me money."
This is all nice, but wears you out in the continous barrage along the way.
The trailer holds a lot of interest to people and mainly follows a smile as I creep up the hills, although a bit faster than the fixed gear chinese bike they use.
The temperature also reached the 30s and so the water disappeared rapidly. There comes a point when you have to trust in the water the locals drink and so far, I've been ok.
And then the numerous bikes means I end up having races with one or two of the keaner types and that only happens in the mornings when I have the energy.

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