MandT W

After the relaxed and efficient Namibian border formalities, we covered the 50km of gravel to Tsumkwe in 30 minutes. It was great to have some pace after battling the morning road. We were very low on fuel, so it was a relief to roll into the Tsumkwe general store and fuel station to fill up. I noticed that most of the locals had very similar facial features – small flat faces, with high cheek bones and wide-spaced heavily-lidded eyes. As the local teenage guys were checking out the bikes, their speech was riddled with clicks. It was one of the times during the trip where I put together stuff I’d seen on TV with a concrete location – “this must be the area where the San people come from”. Heading in to the store we encountered ... read more

Despite having to ride an extra 200kms, Jaap had arrived in Kabwe before me and his bike was parked up outside the hotel we had agreed to meet at. The reunion was emotional: "Looks like your front fork is leaking Jaap". "Godverdomme". The next morning Jaap used a £4 piece of plastic I had purchased before the trip called the "Seal Mate" in an attempt to clean out any gunk that might be causing the leak from his front suspension. After he had spent a while on it, and uttered more than a few Godverdommes, I wandered over to check how it was going. He gave me the bad news - it wasn't working - but showed me the resealing process by giving it one last shot. Worked like a charm. No leak for the rest ... read more

Zambia, our ninth African country, and my first crash. The 20kms from the Tanzanian border to Mbala was tricky mud. Just when you'd build a bit of confidence and pick up the speed, you'd lose control momentarily, and the jolt of adrenaline would raise your heart-rate, and lower your confidence. Often tentative riding is counter-productive as you don't have the drive from the back wheel to keep a bike under control, and mud tends to clog up the tread turning it into a smooth donut with zero traction. But when your front wheel is wandering off by itself, or you begin to awkwardly fishtail, it's easier said than done to keep the power on. However, at one particularly greasy section the bike started to squiggle uncomfortably, and in a moment of bravado and frustration I wound ... read more

After being taken to lunch by a Burundian customs officer we rode west towards the top of Lake Tanganyika and the capital of Bujumbura. Lush hillsides swept past us covered in an intricate patchwork of crops. People were everywhere. Bicycles passed loaded high with produce, other cyclists held on to trucks as they were pulled up hills, roadside stalls and brick kilns lined the road. At one point I passed two guys hand-sawing a massive log into planks with a saw that looked like it was from the 1800s. Each minute included moments of eye contact with half a dozen people. Sometimes I received wide mouthed stares, sometimes a friendly wave, and on more than one occasion a spontaneous dance. The corners kept coming and coming as we wound through the fertile hills. Ahead of me ... read more

The border process between Ethiopia and Kenya was smooth and friendly, which was a relief after the hassles we experienced in Egypt and Sudan. We were knackered after a long day, but the hotel we checked out was a bit expensive so we trundled off to find something cheaper. We succeeded by finding a guesthouse for locals who allowed us to ride through their restaurant to store the bikes in an area down some stairs. Tricky to get to, but nice and safe for the bikes. Soon after we arrived the skies opened. Proper rain. The first we had experienced since Europe. A novel buzz in some ways, but also pretty concerning as we were to face the most notorious road of our trip the next day, the two day "Hell Road" from Moyale to Isiolo. ... read more