Walking out of the Quach's Nek border-post I tilted my head against the gale-force winds, to see orange pieces of plastic on the ground...strikingly similar in colour to the bikes indicators. Yep, the wind was strong alright, and had blown the bike over, much to the bemusement of onlookers. Battling against the wind, we rode through the beautiful landscape Lesotho provides to Sehlabatebe National Park. It was a long ride, and tiredness prevailed. After looking up the loose-bouldery track, and ranting that I wasn't Alfie Cox (three times Paris-Dakar motorbike champion that I met in Bulungula), we carried on. In retrospect we shouldn't have. With an approximate combined weight of 400kg, we slid going through a muddy-waterhole, badly spraining Gwen's ankle which was caught under the pannier of the bike. Two days of R'n'R followed
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