http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Stayloose/ Travel adventures in journals and photos from Stayloose en-us Thu, 31 Dec 2009 18:38:46 +0000 Thu, 31 Dec 2009 18:38:46 +0000 I pass through the border with my free visa stamped into my passport. I ride on. The countryside is busy. Therersquos plenty of villages and people about. Malawi is home to nearly fourteen million people and is just a faction of the size of Zambia. I realise that cycling here will be made easy with the availability of towns and villages to supply food and accommodation but I know Irsquom goin http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Malawi/blog-331983.html Christmas had been cool and the girls great company. New Year had been the same over rated party it always is. One of the girls had been exceptionally good company. We go on well. Something felt comfortable about our situation. So as everyone assumed from our relationship that we had been together for years we joked about the fact wersquod been together seven eight nine days.Therersquos cert http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Rwanda/blog-138880.html The three of us walk up the harbour pier towards immigration. Itrsquos a relatively quiet pier and not the mad scrabble of passenger and porters Irsquod imagined. We go through immigration fairly quickly and sixtyfive dollars buys me a twomonth visa. Were just about to head out of the gate and into the street when an official points us to another building. I walk into the customs building an http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Zambia/blog-212771.html ldquoDo you have any AmmsrdquoldquoAmms Sorry I donrsquot understandrdquo I reply.ldquoAmms AmmsrdquoldquoOh armsrdquo I realize what the customs guy is getting at. ldquoNo I donrsquot have a gunrdquo A say with a smile. Hersquos lets me pass and I bump down the dirt track and through the barrier.Crossing into Tanzania I am surprised by the amount of people about. I http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Tanzania/blog-209020.html We walk across the mini bus we were in seems to of disappeared but we still havenrsquot paid obviously the driver couldnrsquot be bothered with the two mzungursquos who were taking so much time at immigration. We hand over our thirtyfive US dollars request tourist visas and a very faint stamp is stuck in our passports stating eight days in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. I say s http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Congo-Democratic-Republic/East/Goma/blog-134258.html The bus winds thought the mountains and I sit and stare. The border was easy and twenty dollars has bought me a threeday transit visa. The bus has collected a lot more passengers and is now full of singing Christians. Irsquom pinned against the window by the lady sitting next to me and her unbelievably large arse. The group is in full swing and the sound of voices is almost deafening. The girl http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Burundi/blog-157089.html Irsquom back in Rwanda on my own and wonder whether this will lead to maybe a different perception. The dirt finishes at the border and I pass down the smooth asphalt road. Irsquove crossed over to cycling on the right and tell myself that itrsquos pretty important thing to remember. The different perception is working all I can see is the word ldquoGenociderdquo written on every sig http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Rwanda/blog-143484.html The girl has her hand up the back of my shirt. I ask her to remove it and she does but then she starts trying to stick her hand down the front of my trousers. Irsquom gob smacked not embarrassed shy or even particularly uncomfortable just gob smacked. ldquoWhat the fuck are you doingrdquo I ask. I donrsquot say it in anger just in amazement. Somehow she has managed to get her hand http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Uganda/blog-145385.html Therersquos a small river symbolizing actually being the border. I wheel Harvey across the bridge and up the dirt track which leads through a large grassy area. The kids have already clocked me and shouts of muzungu are coming from their mouths. Therersquos a small concrete building the shape and size of a garage where a sign hangs saying immigration. I walk over. Its twenty meters off the r http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Uganda/blog-110634.html It had been two and a half months of not cycling. Thatrsquos two and a half months of permanent company. Two and a half months of having breakfast with someone else. Having lunch with someone else. Having dinner with someone else. Asking people what there up to and people asking me what I was up to. Now sat on a tree stump drinking my morning coffee I wondered what I was suppose to do alone. T http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Kenya/Nairobi-Province/Nairobi/blog-107413.html A woman is walking her young son across the street. Hersquos dawdling across the road and she turns to him and saysldquoDonrsquot look where yoursquove been look where yoursquore goingrdquo. Anon courtesy of Mr.T.D.A. White Ba Ma.I guess itrsquos a pretty good metaphor for the 4th decade of my life. How was my 30th birthday It was fun. I didnrsquot wake up with a woman I lo http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Tanzania/Zanzibar/blog-94215.html Another US50 visa in my passport and I roll down the hill into Tanzania. Therersquos a small hotel just across the street and I take a room for US2. Its clean has a double bed mosey net and even a towel. Therersquos no running water but therersquos a couple of clean titled bathrooms with large buckets of water in them. I have a bucket shower and use the clean towel provided hoping that e http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Tanzania/blog-93983.html I alight from the bus in Nairobi. Irsquom not in a bus station but a rather shabby looking street. Irsquom trying to get my bike and bags out of the bus but the pavement is covered in boxes waiting to be put on the bus. In the crazy squash everyone seems to be fighting to get there luggage off and others to get their luggage on. I manage to drag Harvey out fit the panniers and cycle off. I c http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Kenya/Nairobi-Province/Nairobi/blog-93196.html The Ethiopian immigration officers hand is hovering he has the stamp in his hand but for some reason he's hesitating and itrsquos been in mid air for the last fifthteen seconds. Hersquo already studied my visa so Irsquom unsure about the delay. Then smack. Stamped. I'm officially out of the country. Why it took him so long I don't know. I'll put it down to the oddities of Ethiopia. I wond http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Kenya/Eastern-Province/Moyale/blog-92932.html Itrsquos 5am and Irsquom standing in the forecourt of the Hilton Hotel Addis Ababa Ethiopia. Itrsquos raining hard and itrsquos cold. Its not tropical rain itrsquos like British February rain. The bellboy goes to close the door on the airport shuttle bus but I stop him and lean into the bus and kiss my girl for one last time. Itrsquos very flitting the door is slammed shut and the http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Ethiopia/blog-82392.html I stayed in Dahab for three weeks drinking beer eating dynamite sandwiches getting up late and going to bed even later. I was nice to do nothing for a while but the longer I stayed the less and less I felt like getting back on the bike. With 350 miles of the Sinai desert between me and Cairo with little else inbetween it would be the most isolated stretch I'd done this journey. After finally http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Egypt/Sinai/Dahab/blog-47236.html Irsquom standing in the police station and everyone is shouting no thatrsquos wrong screaming at each other. I was quite drunk but adrenaline has kicked in and I now feel very sober. Irsquom trying to work out who is on my side and who is against me itrsquos difficult as all I see is a bunch of drunken men screaming at each other. The police man sits behind a counter a cigarette hangs http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Ethiopia/blog-72561.html We wonder through the mud and into the maze of people. Sudan is one of the least densely populated countries in Africa Ethiopia the 2nd highest it shows. The border town is full of people. We acquire a ldquofriendrdquo he takes us to immigration. A circular mud hut thatched roof no power a short way from the road in the middle of a small village. This was immigration Irsquod seen some http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Ethiopia/Amhara-Region/Bahir-Dar/blog-66963.html As the heat soared and soared I tried to imagine the cool of the Ethiopian mountains only a week away. Irsquod started feeling a little rundown blamed it on the heat and decided to leave Khartoum. I awoke the following morning at 5am after sleeping in what felt like a sauna. My Throat hurt and my head was blocked. I wasnrsquot up to the ride but had just enough time left on my visa to leave http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Sudan/blog-67408.html So I sit on the street and drink a coffee. Its a few degrees over 40c and the water for the coffee is being boiled on a charcoal fire so its probably about 100C where I am sitting. I sit on an up turned Nestle powered milk can its a good stood. The coffee pot is an old can that's had a spout welded onto it. The coffee is good its not too sweet and has been flavored with ginger and cardamom. It http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Sudan/North/Khartoum/blog-54595.html