Boks Bike Adventure: Gareth Davey's motorcycle journey across Africa on a KTM

THE BOOK - Stop Throwing Stones! Attacking Africa: a man and his motorbike.

2011-03-31T02:34:00.007+02:00

One year on and Gareth Bok Davey has written a book describing his trans-African adventure.

Stop Throwing Stones is a book that details Gareth 'Bok' Davey's solo motorbike journey through Africa. It is a fascinating description of Africa: its land, its people and its history. It also describes a journey of self-discovery and his own internal struggle to understand the continent of his birth.

In 2010, Gareth 'Bok' Davey crossed Africa with his trusty motorbike, a KTM990 Adventure (Big Ken). The idea was to head from South Africa through east Africa and on to Egypt. The route was made up has he went along and the aim was to try and see as many interesting people and places as possible. Bok set off from Johannesburg on March 2010 and arrived in Cairo four months later. A journey he will never forget.

"Whether it was encounters with the Kikuyu people of Kenya or strolling through the wondrous pyramids of Giza, the experiences endured. The lands I visited mixed natural beauty with the harshest living conditions that Africans, through the centuries, have managed to endure. If they can endure this, they can endure anything. I experienced the beauty of the Mozambican coastline, the mouth-dropping setting of Lake Malawi, the open plains of the Serengeti, the majestic Kilimanjaro, the abundant Kenyan wildlife, the thunderous source of the Nile, the solitude of the ‘Road to Hell’, the dramatic Ethiopian highlands, the unrelenting heat of the Sahara, the life-giving Nile Valley and the overwhelming chaos of Cairo. Every location along the way provided its own challenges and held a unique reward that is embedded forever in my heart."

Stop Throwing Stones is a fascinating insight into Africa, its history and its people. It is bound in hard-cover, is over 250 pages long and has hundreds of photos of the journey. A must read for all African tourists.

To purchase the book, please visit the website http://www.stopthrowingstones.blogspot.com/

Final Thoughts

2010-07-14T08:05:00.012+03:00

On 9 June 2010, I reached Cairo, just a few hours before sunset. My quest had lasted 14 weeks and taken me through 10 countries and kingdoms: South Africa, Swaziland, Mozambique, Malawi, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Ethiopia, Sudan, and Egypt. By my daily GPS record, I have traveled over 14,000 kilometers. I fought through rain, hail, thunderstorms, sandstorms, extreme heat and fatigue to be able to finally say that I have conquered this continent.

The last few days of the trip were emblematic of the entire expedition, with highs and lows, solitude and joy, and encounters with both the natural wonders and teeming societies of the ancient and modern day African life. Over my quest, I learned that it was necessary for me to avoid fighting against the elements that make Africa what it is, but instead to embrace them, because the immeasurable power of the continent and its people will always win. Thus, I was able to save my energy to enjoy this truly humbling experience.

Whether it was encounters with the Kikuyu people of Kenya or strolling through the wondrous Pyramids of Giza, the experiences endure. The lands I have visited mixed natural beauty with the harshest living conditions that Africans, through the centuries, have managed to endure. If they can endure this, they can endure anything. I have experienced the beauty of the Mozambican coastline, the mouth-dropping setting of Lake Malawi, the open plains of the Serengeti, the majestic Kilimanjaro, the abundant Kenyan wildlife, the thunderous source of the Nile, the solitude of the 'Road to Hell', the dramatic Ethiopian highlands, the unrelenting heat of the Sahara, the life-giving Nile Valley and the overwhelming chaos of Cairo. Every location along the way provided its own challenges and held a unique reward that is embedded forever in my heart.

This has not only been a journey through Africa but it has also been a journey deep into my soul. I left expecting to only discover Africa, but have returned having also discovered myself. I have become my own best friend.

And now the trip has concluded.

Success? Bloody oath.

Life-changing? Definitely

Incredible? Maybe

Possible? Yes

More than ever, I am committed to the African land and its people that I have come to know and love. The international community, ever embarrassed about Africa, has turned its eye away from this wonderful continent. Hopefully my story will help in some small way to prove that Africa and its people will succeed. We dont need help, we just need time …

Thanks again for the support. Until next time.

Lots of love,
Gareth ‘ Bok’ Davey

Thank You!!

2010-07-08T22:40:00.003+03:00

To all family, friends and colleagues.

After travelling for 14 weeks, I have eventually made it to my destination – Cairo, Egypt.

To date I have travelled over 14,000km’s, across 10 different countries and have had some unforgettable adventures along the way. This has been an absolutely life-changing experience and I encourage everyone to take some time off from your busy schedules and set into practice a memorable holiday/experience of your own! You will come out of it a better and happier person. I have had some great times, seen some spectacular sights, met some of the most amazing people and have made some great friends along the way. Most importantly I have learnt a lot about myself and my abilities and limits.

A special thank you for all the phone calls, emails, facebook messages and comments left on my blogsite. Your ongoing support has managed to keep me going through some tough times.

To date we have managed to raise £GBP 1130.00 – excluding AMEC’s contribution. Thank you to all of you who have contributed to this great cause. It is very much appreciated! To those of you who still intend to donate, you can either click on the “Sponsor me” button, or alternatively visit the website www.justgiving.com/gareth-davey. A very special thank you must go to Kathy Bam from the AMEC office in Johannesburg for her endless efforts towards this charity drive. I cannot thank Kathy enough for her ongoing support for this cause.

I have been extremely impressed with the motorbike, a KTM 990 Adventure (Big Ken). It has proven to be the ultimate tool in tackling the African continent. Not once has the motorcycle let me down. I have taken the motorbike down some really harsh roads and have spent hours on the saddle through some of the hottest and harshest areas that Africa has to offer. To be honest, I have not even had a puncture for the whole trip which is probably more of a testament to my lack of riding skills :-) I have serviced the motorcycle twice along the way and have changed the back tyre once. I have met up with many other motorcyclists along the way that were riding different motorcycle brands – they all had their share of problems with their motorbikes. On my KTM, I am proud to say that I had none! I would like to take this opportunity to thank the team from Causeway KTM in Perth, and especially Ram Wartheim, for his support. You are selling a great product and this is proof!! I am a dedicated fan.

Some statistics about the trip:

Total Distance Travelled: 14,112 km
Average speed: 50.1 km/h
Total Cost of the trip: (+/-) $AUD 16,000.00 (including motorcycle shipping)
Motorcycle services: 2
Breakdowns along the way: 0
Money raised for RFH charity: £GBP 1130.00 (to date) – excluding AMEC’s contribution
Visits to my blogsite: 15 261 (to date)

Thanks again and looking forward to catching up with you.

Regards,

Gareth 'Bok' Davey

Egypt

2010-06-14T20:12:00.016+03:00

Early that evening we crossed the border into Egypt. We also crossed the Tropic of Cancer which is my third and last :-( big milestone for this trip. We were fortunate enough to witness a great sunset on the ferry, with the sun going down over the lake and the desert in the background. Beautiful!

Later that evening the ferry floated past the Great Temple of Abu Simbel, which was cut from the hillside to honour the gods Ra, Amun, Ptah and the defied Pharaoh Ramses II. The temple is beautifully lit at night, so it was easily visible from the ferry. The four colossal statues of Ramses II sit majestically facing east. Each statue is over 20m tall and is flanked by smaller statues of the Pharaoh’s mother and his beloved wife, Nefertari. In the 1960’s, Abu Simbel was winched to higher ground to avoid the rising waters of Lake Nasser in an ingenious feat of engineering.

We then settled down for another beautiful night under the stars, sleeping on the deck of the ferry.

We arrived at the ferry port of Aswan at about 11am the next morning to start the infamous Egyptian immigration / customs procedures. The Egyptian customs officials boarded the ferry and set about processing each of the passengers. Instead of letting the people disembark once their papers had been approved, they forced all three hundred passengers to stay onboard until all of the people had been approved ?!? This took a further three hours. They then opened one of the doors for all three hundred people to disembark. People here do not seem to understand the concept of queuing or just waiting your turn – all three hundred passengers pushed their way towards the door causing absolute chaos. It didn’t stop there! From there all three hundred people had to go through a single security machine and put their luggage through a single baggage security conveyor. Again, no queues were formed or enforced by the officials – instead there was just pushing, shoving, shouting and fighting to try and get through the security. The quiet, subdued people that had been praying so peacefully the evening before had turned into chaotic barbarians. Many sense-of-humour failures were witnessed – including mine on quite a few occasions! Absolute chaos! You would think that a country which has a ‘civilized’ history dating back to 4000BC would have invented a better, more organized system by now!! Ridiculous! Eventually, at about 3pm we managed to get through.

After a goodbye to young Andraes, who was heading up to Suez with his family, on a train, we then headed into Aswan to find a hotel. As the barge would only be arriving on Saturday, we had a day in Aswan to kill before we could get our vehicles. We managed to find a fairly cheap hotel, with a great roof-top view, on the corniche - which is the road along the Nile River.

First things first – find a MacDonalds! I am not a big MacDonalds fan but after a few months of eating dodgy food (mainly) there is nothing better than eating a Big Mac!!! Egypt is the first country, since South Africa, which has MacDonalds.

I was pleasantly surprised by Aswan. Aswan is Egypt’s southernmost city and sits on the banks of a particularly beautiful stretch of the Nile, decorated with palm-fringed islands and white-sailed feluccas. The corniche is lined with many first world hotels and facilities – a huge difference to Sudan. In ancient times, Aswan was a garrison town for military campaigns against Nubia, its quarries provided the granite used in so many Egyptians sculptures and obelisks, and it was a prosperous marketplace at the crossroads of the ancient caravan routes.

Aswan is one of Egypt’s great travel destinations and as such has many tourists all year round. This unfortunately means that streets are filled with overenthusiastic (and often bogus) guides that have had centuries of experience in ripping off unsuspecting tourists for trips that are seldom well planned or executed. A further annoyance is the constant aggressive badgering to buy souvenirs. A walk along the corniche will often result in hundreds of approaches for felucca rides, ancient site tours, restaurant visits, hotels stays, taxi rides, carriage rides, horse rides, camel rides or just constant badgering to buy souvenirs. Very annoying! I have become a professional at just ignoring them. I find that ignoring them seems to work the best because it makes them more annoyed than they are making me … a bit of payback ha ha. Sometimes I make as if I don’t understand them ha ha – they usually try a string of different international languages before just giving up – for some reason they think I am Spanish? (probably my dark skin tan from the desert riding and my beard ha ha).

The following day Alf, Anders and I decided to visit some of the sites that Aswan has to offer. First stop was the ‘unfinished obelisk’. The unfinished obelisk lies in the granite quarries that supplied the stone for many of the pyramids and temples in Egypt. Three sides of the obelisk shaft, which is nearly 42m long, were completed except for inscriptions. The obelisk would have been the single biggest piece of stone that the early Egyptians ever fashioned. However, a flaw appeared in the rock at a late stage in the process. So it still lies where the disappointed cutters, sculptors and carvers left it.

We then visited the Nubia Museum, which was well worth the visit. The museum is a reminder of the Nubian culture and history, much of which was lost when Lake Nasser flooded their land. Exhibits are displayed with clearly written explanations that take you from 4500BC to present day. The museum starts with prehistoric artifacts and exhibits from the Kingdom of Kush and Meroe. There are also displays of Coptic and Islamic art from the region. I was fascinated by the photos and descriptions of the massive UNESCO projects to move Nubia’s most important historical monuments away from the rising waters of Lake Nasser. The moving of the Great Temple of Abu Simbel was one of these many projects.

The following day our vehicles arrived and we set about trying to get them released from customs. We met up with Kamall who had been recommended to us by our Sudanese fixer. Kamall would help us through the endless system of paperwork and bureaucracy. What a day! Egyptians seem to battle to understand the concept behind the Carnet de Passage – they insist that all motor vehicles that temporarily enter Egypt have to be fully licensed as an Egyptian vehicle with the associated Egyptian number plates, roadworthiness tests etc .etc. etc. All of this obviously comes at a tremendous cost that is probably shared between the corrupt officials who refuse to assist unless they receive large amounts of baksheesh (under handed payments).

First we had to go to the traffic office in Aswan and pay various amounts of money to various different officials, just so that they could get the ball rolling. This amounted in total to about £E 50.00. Every one of these officials wanted their share of the corruption. In return we received various informal signatures and stamps to get the process started at the port customs office. We then headed to the port customs office and completed more paperwork and (of course) had to pay a further £E 500.00 ($US 100.00). The customs manager found a ‘problem’ with Alf and Anders Norwegian carnet papers. He refused to accept their carnet as the words ‘Norwegian Automobile Association’ had not been typed on each of the carnet papers – only on the main front cover which also had the official Norwegian Automobile Association stamp. I suggested that they just write it in, but for some reason typed words are official in Egypt – written words are not?!? Ridiculous. All pages on their document had the official carnet number which relates it to the IAA, an internationally recognized body that documents each vehicles existence and movements through the various local Automobile Associations. So the customs manager was just being difficult!! All he had to do was phone the Egyptian Automobile Association and confirm that the carnet was legal. Twatis Maximus sp. (We found out later that he was being difficult because he had a serious dislike for our fixer Kamall! As it turned out, the next day Alf and Anders had to catch a train to Cairo – a 12 hour trip – to get the Egyptian Automobile Association to stamp the carnet on behalf of the Norwegian Automobile Association. They would then have to return to Aswan (another 12 hours). Basically, three days wasted and at a tremendous cost - all because the customs manager did not like our fixer!?!)

I (luckily) managed to get my carnet accepted and then headed off to the Traffic Roadworthy Department. I might mention here that I was not allowed to take my motorbike with me to the roadworthy department because it was not yet allowed out of the port – but with a bit of ‘baksheesh’ that was not a problem and my bike received its full roadworthy certification without it even being there. Once this had been done we had to go and fetch a traffic policeman, pay him some money, and get him to return with us to the motorbike (still at the port) to verify the chassis and engine numbers by stenciling the numbers onto an ‘official’ Lexmark A4 piece of paper?!? We then had to return to the traffic office, drop off the policeman (after paying him baksheesh) and head into the Licensing Centre which was back in Aswan town some 20km away. At the Licensing Centre I had to pay a further £E 126.00 for insurance for the motorcycle (They would not accept the Comesa Insurance that I paid $US 100.00 for and which covers all African countries, including Egypt) I also had to pay for the temporary motorbike license and number plates. Only then could I return to the port customs facility to fetch my motorbike. I then paid the customs officials and Kamall, a further £E 250.00 baksheesh for their help. It had taken me one whole day and cost me about $US 250 to get my motorbike released from customs! This process took me longer and cost me more money than all of the other African countries put together. I have never seen such a corrupt and inefficient system. I wonder how people like these manage to sleep with themselves at night! What annoys me is the arrogance with which these officials conduct themselves, whilst giving a brilliant display of absolute incompetence and corruption.

I was relieved to find that Big Ken had not been damaged during transit. :-)

The next day I left for Luxor. On the way I stopped at the town of Edfu and visited the Temple of Horas, which is Egypt’s best preserved temple. The Temple of Horus was constructed by Ptolemy III (246 - 221BC). Although this temple is much newer than the temples at Luxor, its excellent state of preservation helps to fill many historical gaps. The massive 36m-high gateway is guarded by two huge statues of the falcon faced god Horus. The walls of the temple are covered in large carvings and pictures of Ptolemy and Horus. Behind the temple walls are the court of offerings as well as the hypostyle halls, which are decorated by various scenes of battles between the gods. Very interesting and because it has been so well preserved, it is well worth the visit.

That afternoon I continued up the Nile to Luxor. Luxor is another great city with a fascinating history. Situated along the Nile it was first inhabited around 3000BC. It was originally known as Thebes and was the capital of the New Kingdom. The setting is absolutely beautiful, the Nile flowing between the modern town and the West Bank necropolis, backed by a stunning desert escarpment. Modern day Luxor can be considered nothing less than an open air museum. Scattered across the landscape is a multitude of ancient historic sites, from the temples of Karnak and Luxor on its East bank to the Collosi of Menmon and the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens on the West Bank.

The sun played an important role in ancient Egypt. The rising of the sun in the east not only marked the beginning of day, but also represented new life. As such the majority of settlements in ancient Egypt were on the East Bank of the Nile, where the people would live out their lives, before being buried on the western side of the Nile (sunset or death). In addition to this, the temples that were built to honour the gods (i.e. the temples for praying and worshipping the gods) were all on the East Bank. The temples on the West Bank, however, were built to honour the dead pharaoh's who often achieved a god-like status. The West Bank of Luxor is often described as the “deathbed of the world” as this is where the tombs of the ancient Kings and their families are found..

On my first day in Luxor (7/6), I organized a tour to the West Bank. The West bank of Luxor was the necropolis of ancient Thebes, a vast city of the dead where magnificent temples were raised to honour the cults of pharaohs entombed in the nearby cliffs, and where queens, nobles, priests and artisans built tombs with spectacular décor.

The first monuments you see are the Colossi of Memnon which are the largest monolithic statues ever carved. They are huge and standing at 18m high they are all that is left of the largest temple ever built in Egypt (built by Amenhotep III). The statues were attributed to Memnon, the African king who was believed to have been slain by Achilles. An earthquake formed a small crack in the one statue which causes a whistling sound when the wind blows – early inhabitants believed this to be the cry of Memnon greeting his mother Eos, the goddess of dawn. She in turn would weep tears of dew for his untimely death.

Next we visited Deir al-Bahri. One of the features that stands out on the West Bank are the rugged limestone cliffs that rise about 300m above the desert plains. These have been carved by the Nile as it makes it way through the desert towards the Mediterranean. A strikingly beautiful natural monument. At the foot of all this beauty lies the man-made monument of Deir al-Bahri which is even more extraordinary. The almost modern looking temple blends in beautifully with the cliffs, from which it is partly cut. It is one of Egypt’s finest monuments and I can only imagine how stunning it must have looked in centuries gone by, when it was approached by a great sphinx lined path and when it was surrounded by gardens of exotic plants. The ancient Egyptians often refer to this temple as the “Most holy of holies”. The temple is decorated with some amazingly beautiful Egyptian paintings depicting various scenes of wars, expeditions and meetings with the gods. Set in this surrounding, this is one of the most beautiful temples that I have seen. It is also very well preserved and makes for an amazing visit.

From here we went on to the Valley of the Kings. The Valley of the Kings consists of 63 magnificent royal tombs from the New Kingdom period (1500 – 1000BC). The tombs basically consist of long tunnels angled into the cliffs with a burial chamber (sometimes still with sarcophagus) at the end. The tunnels are lined with various scenes of the afterlife that the pharaoh would be expected to go through before his rebirth. From the first day of a new pharaoh’s coronation the tomb building would start and they would continue to dig down and decorate until the death of the pharaoh. For this reason the lengths of the tunnels differ considerably between the different tombs. The tombs have suffered great damage from treasure hunters, floods and in recent years, mass tourism, but are still a spectacular visit. Scenes depicted on the tomb walls are interesting and give a great insight into the culture and beliefs of the ancient Egyptian.

Next stop was Valley of the Queens. There are 75 tombs in the Valley of the Queens and this was where the queens and other members of the royal family were buried. As these have been less visited, they contain better preserved wall paintings. The most fascinating tomb was that of Ramses II’s favourite wife Queen Neferteri. The tomb is a shrine to her beauty and without doubt an exquisite labour of love. Also fascinating was the tomb of Amunherkhepshef who was the son of Ramses III and who died in his early teens. On the walls of the tomb are magnificent paintings of Ramses holding his sons hand and introducing him to the gods that will help him on his journey to the afterlife. The tomb also contains the skeleton of a mummified 5-month old foetus that it is thought was aborted by Amunherkhepshef’s mother on hearing of her son’s death.

Unfortunately no photography was allowed at the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens :-(

The next day I spent visiting the East Bank sites. First stop was the Karnak Temple. Here for more than 1500 years the pharaohs competed for the gods attention by outdoing each other’s architectural feats. Karnak is now and extraordinary complex of buildings, kiosks, pylons and obelisks dedicated to the gods. Everything is on a gigantic scale, while its main feature, the Temple of Amun is the largest religious building ever built. It was believed that this was where the god Amun lived when on earth surrounded by the two gigantic temples which housed his wife Mut and their son Khonsu. Built, added to, dismantled, restored, enlarged and decorated, Karnak is believed to have been the most sacred temple in the New Kingdom.

There is a 3km long paved avenue which was once lined with 730 human-headed, lion-bodied sphinxes that once joined the Temple of Karnak to the Temple of Luxor. 58 of these sphinx statues still remain. The avenue must have been a spectacular sight in its time!

The Luxor Temple is a strikingly beautiful monument in the heart of the modern day Luxor. It was primarily built by Amenhotep III (1380 – 1352 BC) and Ramses II (1279 – 1213 BC), but has been added to over the centuries by Tutankhamun, Ramses III, Alexander the Great and various Romans. In the 14th Century a mosque dedicated to a local sheik was built in one of the inner courts. Both temples in Luxor are spectacular visits.

The following day (9/6) I decided to continue my journey up the Nile for my final destination Cairo. I think that the Egyptians think that they are in the brink of a war, as there are literally hundreds of police check points along the way. It got so bad that I could seldom get my motorbike into 5th gear before I would have to slow down for another check point. At the majority of the check points the police just wave you on, but I was stopped a number of times because they could see that I was a foreigner. Towards Debri, they insisted that they escort me through the smaller towns. They seemed to play tag team, contacting the police ahead to escort me through the towns along the way. I am not sure whether they were trying to protect me or trying to make sure I didn’t do anything. Eventually it got annoying as the police trucks seldom travel faster than 60km/h - even on the open road sections. The one police truck that I had to follow even stopped so that the policemen could steal some mango's off a farmers tree. They were also intent on putting their sirens on in town which was rather embarrassing! 6 policemen escorting one peaceful Jesus-looking bloke on a bike? I felt like a celebrity as everyone just stopped and stared to see who was being escorted.

This section of the Nile is great. The area is very lush and cultivated with a huge variety of different crops. There are hundreds of small towns to go through. Eventually the Cairo highway starts and the roads start getting ridiculously busy with traffic making its way to and from Cairo.

I got to Cairo in the early evening and managed to catch a glimpse of the pyramids, through the thick smog, off in the distance. The pyramids are an awesome sight and majestically tower high above Giza. They offer a mystical ora to the overcrowded and congested city! But more on the pyramids later ...

In many ways, Cairo is Egypt, an overcrowded city that dominates the country almost as much as it dominates the Arab culture. As with many other major African cities that I have visited, Cairo attracts many people from subsistence livelihoods (along the Nile) towards the often false promises of a better life. As with much of Egypt, visitors tend to enjoy Cairo in proportion to their tolerance levels. Surrounded by horn-blowing cars all squeezing to get into any available gap, buried under a cloud of noxious exhaust fumes, elbowed into a crowd or tricked into being “guided” to a place you don’t want to go, it takes a special patience to enjoy this city. Unfortunately I have none.

Cairo is packed with millions of buildings that seem to be thrown up and are in various states of being unfinished – no windows and no interior work. They’re also built with unfinished roof levels so that upper levels can be added on in the future, if needed. When a person buys a unit in one of the thousands of these buildings located throughout Cairo they have to add their own windows and doors and complete their own interior work (plastering and painting the walls, putting in floors, etc.). You have to see this housing to believe it – it is everywhere, and it is stark and eerie in its half-built, half-empty state. Quick, cheap housing is mainly what Cairo consists of.

I managed to hook up with my good mate, Sean Reynolds, that I played hockey with in my younger years. Sean has been living in Cairo for the past four years and has been working for the Intercontinental Hotel group. Great bloke and a good friend!! Sean offered me to stay with him in his 5-star apartment within the City Star InterContinental Hotel in Cairo! What a stroke of luck and what a great way to end the trip. The first few evenings were spent catching up over far too many beers whilst I tried to sort out motorcycle shipping back to Perth.

I got in contact with Waguih Guindy who owns a transport company (Escale Travel) and who had been recommended to me for shipping my motorcycle back to Perth. The monthly ship to Australia was to leave on 18/6, so I did not have much time to organize the crating. I took the motorcycle to his offices and started dismantling it for crating. It was rather upsetting parting with Big Ken. He has been a great companion during the trip and has not let me down once. As things were rather rushed, it was also disappointing not being able to take some photos of the motorbike at the pyramids – the traditional trans-africa shot.

The traffic in Cairo is ridiculous to say the least. Drivers are extremely impatient and travel at ridiculous speeds. Although the roads are often well demarcated with lanes, it seldom happens that drivers will stick to the lanes. Any gap that appears will very quickly be taken by a vehicle intent on getting there first. Drivers drive with their hands almost constantly on the hooter and are quite happy to cut other drivers off that are trying to squeeze their way past. On a motorbike this can be extremely dangerous. Whilst travelling down the ‘ring-road’ at ridiculous speeds (to keep up with the other traffic), cars would often try and squeeze past with only millimeters of clearance from the motorbike. Very nerve-racking and very dangerous! As with the rest of Africa, no motorcyclists wear helmets here. I have never seen such bad and impatient driving before!

I also had to organize a schengen visa for my trip to Europe to catch up with my good mate Olly Rhode. This turned out to be another nightmare. The German Embassy in Cairo only issues schengen visa’s to Egyptian citizens. They said that I need to apply for the visa in Pretoria. However, the German Embassy in Pretoria requires you to appear in person at the visa application which I obviously could not do. I was stuck. After much pleading I managed to get an appointment at the German Embassy in Cairo to plead my case. As it turned out the person who issues the schengen visa in Cairo was also an avid adventure biker and armed with my charity letter from ‘Riders for Health’ he issued me with a full one year multiple entrance visa into Europe!

On the 16/6 Mel arrived in Cairo to complete her Cape-to-Cairo trip which she had done on public transport. It was great catching up with her again and hearing her stories. Although we had traveled a similar route through Africa, her experiences on the trip were often very different to mine and it was interesting to hear her different point of view.

We decided to take a few days off from the hussle and bussle of Cairo and head to the diving resort town of Dahab on the Sinai side of the Red Sea. In order to spend more time in Dahab, we decided to fly to Sharm el-Sheik and then catch a bus to Dahab. At Sharm el-Sheik we ended up arguing a taxi driver down from L.E. 200 to L.E 20 to get us to the bus station. As with most of Egypt which is frequented by foreign tourists it becomes somewhat annoying and irritating having to argue with locals to be given a fair price. They are intent on ripping off all the foreigners which is not only frustrating, but has left me with a bad taste for the Egyptian locals. In Egypt it is very seldom that prices are openly displayed – instead the shop-owners / taxi drivers / hoteliers / restaurateurs will just quote a ridiculous price and you will then be left having to negotiate your way down to a more realistic and fair compromise.

Arguably the world’s most famous stretch of coastline, it is at the Red Sea that Moses allegedly parted the sea and set free the Hebrew slaves. Famed for its brilliant turquoise waters and coloured reefs, the Red Sea coastline attracts thousands of tourists annually. The diving here is truly first class.

Dahab is a tranquil seaside refuge from the unrelenting desert heat. It has a long history of luring backpackers – trapping them for days or weeks on end – with its fairly cheap backpackers lodges, golden beaches and a rugged desert backdrop. A short swim off the beach will find you in one of the world’s most pristine coral reefs – ideal for diving and snorkeling.

Although Dahab is one of the most relaxed destinations in Egypt, it has also been the target for a number of recent terrorist attacks. It was here that in April 2006 suicide bombers killed 23 people and injured dozens more. The government has tried to crack down on the seeds of Islamic fundamentalism by introducing dozens of road blocks and police checkpoints. It remains to be seen whether or not their approach is effective as the Sinai region is a melting point between different cultures and continents.

The first afternoon was obviously spent relaxing on the beach whilst sipping on cocktails and fighting off the local souvenir salesmen. The next day we organized a dive to ‘the Lighthouse’ which was a great reef about 100m off the beach. I was absolutely amazed with the sea-life and coral that can be found just off the beach. The underwater colours that the coral displays are dazzling and quite breathtaking.

That evening we decided to climb Mount Sinai. As the temperature in the Sinai Desert gets ridiculous in the day, Mount Sinai is best climbed at night in order to be at the summit to watch the morning sunrise over the desert, and to get down the mountain before the sun starts to heat things up.

Mount Sinai is revered by Christians, Muslems and Jews, all of which believe that this was where God delivered the Ten Commandments to Moses at its summit. It was also here that God spoke to Moses through the burning bush and it is also the mountain on which it is believed that Elijah heard the voice of God. For centuries Mount Sinai has been a place of religious pilgrimage. Unfortunately this means that the mountain is infected with souvenir salesmen and herdsmen offering camel rides up the mountain. There seems to be no control of these people and we were pestered along almost the entire trip up the mountain by these rude and persistent sales people.

In addition, the Egyptian authorities insist that all tourists are accompanied up the mountain by a Bedouin guide. I am not sure what the reason for this is, since the centuries of pilgrims have created a bloody great highway up the mountain and it is almost impossible for anyone to get lost. In addition, the “guides” are not trained in any way and cannot speak English so very few of them can offer any religious insight into the mountain. Another Egyptian money making / rip-off scheme.

We reached the top of Mount Sinai at about 04h30 and it was freezing cold at the top. We spent an hour or so catching up with some sleep in the large Bedouin tents that have been set up on the mountain, before heading to the church at the summit of the mountain to watch the sunrise. The church has been placed on the spot where it was believed that God gave Moses the Ten Commandments. The sunrise over Sinai was amazing and it was truly a breathtaking and spiritual experience.

On the way down the mountain we stopped at the St. Katherine’s monastery. The monastery has been placed at the spot that it is believed that God spoke to Moses from the burning bush. Here it is possible to see what is thought to be a descendant of the burning bush in the monastery compound. I might say that the bush has recovered well from the fire that nearly ended its life thousands of years ago. According to the monks this bush was transplanted here many centuries ago and continues to thrive to this day. Near the burning bush is also the Well of Moses, where it is thought that Moses drank from the spring – it is believed that anyone who drinks from the spring will have lifelong marital happiness.

Later that day we headed back to Dahab and spent the remaining few days lazing on the beach and diving some of the other dive sites. I managed to dive at “the Canyon” as well as the Blue Hole which has been rated as one of the top ten dive sites in the world. I cannot get over the underwater beauty that this area offers. The coral and fish life displays some spectacular colour and I spent hours trying to find Nemo.

I may say here that the reefs are not policed at all and I fear that they will not last for much longer. The small town of Dahab has over 60 dive centres that cater for thousands of divers every year. These dive centres compete for customers and often have 5 – 6 groups going out per day. Even whilst snorkeling, we could see evidence of damaged reefs and even scolded a local Arab for kicking a section of the reef that he was trying to break off as a souvenir!! If the authorities do not step in, I fear this pristine reef will end up being ruined - like that of Hurghada further down the coastline which was one of the most beautiful dive sites in the 1970’s but now has almost no coral left due to over-diving.

On 22/6 we headed back to Cairo to visit the remainder of the Egyptian sites.

The following day we went to see the Great Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx. Built on a desert plateau and encroached upon by the modern Cairo city, the pyramids here are the last remaining wonder of the ancient world and a great place to end my trans-africa trip! They are built as the monuments to the pharaohs to help with their journey through the afterworld and into re-incarnation. Representing more a celebration of life, and a desire for life to continue, they were believed to have been constructed by thousands of artisans (not slaves) who were mindful of their part in creating something extraordinary.

Completed around 2600BC, the Great Pyramid of Kufu is the oldest pyramid at Giza and the largest at 146.5m high. The neighboring Pyramid of Khafre was built by Khufu’s son and the third (and smallest) pyramid was built by Menakaure who was Khafre’s son.

The pyramids of Giza are so iconic as to defy description. They have been puzzled over and plundered, visited and studied for 4000+ years. Their attraction continues unabated. The theories about why and wherefore and the speculations of divine intervention ensure that the pyramids will continue to keep alive the names of a father, son and grandson forever. Isn’t that what they were intended to do?

Guarding the Pyramid of Khafre is the Sphinx, which has the face of Khafre and the body of a lion. It was buried by sand several times now since its construction in 2500BC and was carved by a single piece of limestone. The sphinx is missing its nose which was shot off by Napoleons army in the 19th Century. It remains one of the most evocative monuments of the ancient world!

That afternoon we visited Egyptian Museum which houses a bewildering amount of Egyptian artifacts. This museum is one of the world’s most important museums of ancient history. Here the treasures of Tutankhamen lay alongside buried artifacts, mummies, jewellery, pottery and toys of ancient Egyptians whose names have been lost in history.

The number of exhibits long outgrew the available building space and the museum is literally bursting at the seams. Items are arranged chronologically throughout the building and show Egypts fascinating history. To walk through the museum is like embarking on an adventure through ancient time. Truly fascinating.

The following day we left for Germany.

Jaag maar aan.

Sudan

2010-05-30T14:02:00.011+03:00

My crossing into Sudan marked my first step into the Muslim world and it’s associated ‘arabocracy’. (The Arab countries have a tendency to drown themselves in needless paperwork all in the name of keeping their borders secure from the feared ‘West’). The Immigration Section went fairly quickly and I managed to get myself through in about half an hour. The Customs Section, however, was a headache. I went from one official to the next who each had separate forms to fill out which requested the same information – mainly information on the motorbike – all of which is contained on the copy of the carne document which they keep anyway?!? Maybe a computer would have helped? Name, Make, Model, Year of Manufacture, Colour, Engine Number, Chassis Number, Number Plate etc. In the end seven separate documents (with receipts) were filled out before I was allowed to pass to the next section i.e. the Security Section. Here all my motorbike and passport documents were translated into Arabic and re-written into the security log book. I must admit that the border officials, however, were reasonably friendly which was a marked difference to the Ethiopians. Eventually, some two hours later, and with a strict warning to register myself ‘as an alien’ in Khartoum (within three days), I was off on my way …

The road continued to get drier and drier as I entered into the Sahara Desert. Scattered grasslands eventually disintegrated into sparse shrub and shadeless thorn trees. And it started to get HOT! By midday the temperature had already reached 40 degrees C. My initial intention was to stay in the town of Gedaref, but as the border crossing had been more efficient than I had expected (I had heard some horror stories), I arrived at Gedaref at about 13h00. Gedaref is a dirty, dusty town on the outskirts of the Sahara and has very little in the form of decent accommodation to account for. So I decided to stock up on water and head out into the Sahara, towards Khartoum, to do the first of my big desert crossings. Bad mistake!

The 420km stretch from Gedaref to join up with the Nile River at Khartoum is rather desolate. If I had thought that Gedaref was hot, I was in for big shock! I always knew that the Sahara would be hot, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever picture it as hot as this! In hindsight, it was a mistake to plan this section in summer (even though it is very early summer here). The temperature quickly increased to 44 degrees C and then remained between 44 & 48 degrees C for the remainder of the afternoon. The hot air felt like a hair dryer blowing onto my face at full power. Unbearable! To top it off the heat given off my 990cc motorbike, and all the protective gear that I was wearing, were adding to the ridiculous temperature. I managed to stop a few times at various watering points to refill my water supplies. I have never felt so helpless and vulnerable before! I worked out that I drank a massive 15 litres of water on this stretch! … and did not urinate once! I didn’t know that was possible? It felt better when I was on the motorbike as in this way there was at least a breeze using my sweat to cool me down. Towards the end of the trip I had to stop a few times as I was starting to feel sick – really sick – the first signs of heat stroke. I managed to make Khartoum at 21h00 that evening (it was 42 degrees C at 21h00!) and headed straight to the Blue Nile Sailing Club campsite. I spent two hours sitting by the water trough filling myself up with ice cold water and rehydration salts which helped to relieve some of the discomfort. Thankfully they also had an air conditioner in the pool room which felt like an absolute God send!

The next day, I was feeling awful again and just sat in the shade; whilst pumping water through my fragile body. There was also a stall across the road from the campsite that sold ice cold fruit juice which tasted so good – just what I needed – I think I became an instant ice-cold mango juice addict!

Khartoum was built where the White and Blue Nile’s meet. It is one of the more modern cities in Africa and has paved roads, high-rise buildings and the majority of services that are needed (although they do have ATM’s here, they cannot be used by any international bank cards!). The people here are extremely friendly, polite and hospitable. The riverside setting is attractive and Khartoum is very safe! BUT, it is hot!

Sudan is not a particularly rich country, but I am surprised how few beggars / homeless people there are here. Even in the large cities like Khartoum, beggars are seldom seen. The underprivileged seem to be well cared for by the general population. The very strict laws against drugs, alcohol and prostitution, that seem to plague the rest of Africa, also help to prevent people getting sucked into the downward spirals that often finds them living in the streets.

The following day I felt much better and set about registering myself at the Aliens Registration Office in Khartoum. The Sudanese think that anyone from outside of their country must have come from another planet and have thus enforced a rule that all non-Sudanese have to register themselves as ‘aliens’ on arrival in Khartoum – and within three days of entering a border post. Now, if only they had computers at the border posts they would be able to know who was in their country! To be honest, I think it shows arabocracy at its best and is just another money making incentive for the government officials. First I had to find the Alien Registration Office – none of the taxi drivers or policemen had any idea what I was talking about. I eventually got the address on the internet and set off with my GPS to find the place. After about two hours I eventually found the place – the signs to the office were in Sudanese (Arabic) and not in any of the official alien languages. To top it off none of the officials understood the particular brand of alien that I speak and I thus had no idea what I was meant to do to register. Luckily one of my fellow aliens understood Sudanese and I was sent back to the campsite to get an official letter from the Blue Nile Sailing Club to state that I was a guest at their campsite. With letter in hand, I returned to register, paid a whopping £S105 ($US 50), filled out my forms, gave them my photo and after a few hours of queuing I was a fully fledged and legal alien! (My form said that my address was: 1 Moon Rock Place, Mars (only a few light years from Perth) – no-one seemed to care – no-one could speak/read my brand of alien anyway - they had my money which is all that really mattered to them).

Later that day, I hooked up with Riaan (South African), Stephanie (Belgian) and Joel (Canadian) who are travelling together from South Africa to Sudan (and back again). It was great hearing their stories – they came up from Uganda to Sudan through the very dodgy southern Sudan region. Riaan and Stephanie are artists from Calvinia. Joel has been living in South Africa for a few years now and is completing his PhD in archaeology at Wits University (the university I went to). Joel has been rather sick since Livingstone (Zambia) and had apparently lost a lot of weight – he was off to see a doctor in Khartoum to see if he can identify the problem. The next day we went to town and had a huge ice-cream before doing some shopping in a huge (air-conditioned) shopping mall. I am not a big fan of shopping but I would do anything to get out of that heat! Riaan, Stephanie and Joel are all such great friendly people! I hope they make it back south safely.

The next day I decided to head off. There were two choices – firstly the loop road to see the Meroe Pyramids which was about a 300km detour - or secondly, the direct route to Abri Dom, straight across the desert to meet up again with the Nile River that had looped itself around. Because of my scary desert experience a few days before, I decided to take the shorter280km trip directly across the desert therefore minimizing my exposure to the desert elements. Besides, I would have more opportunities to see the much bigger Egyptian pyramids further up north. Also, I only had a two week visa for Sudan so I had to get going.

I set off early that morning. To be honest the 280km stretch across the desert was great and I had nothing to worry about. The heat only really starts to pick up at about mid-morning in these parts and by this time I had already managed to cross the majority of this stretch. The roads in Sudan are of excellent quality, some of the best I have seen in Africa! The only problem is that every now and again there are sand piles formed as sand blows onto the road, which are not fun riding over at 120km/h.

This part of the Sahara is known as the Nubian Desert and is renowned for its orange coloured desert sand. The rocky outcrops and occasional dunes make the scenery very picturesque. It was great meeting up with the Nile River again. The desolate desert suddenly erupts into an abundance of colour, as the fertile banks are harvested for their life supporting crops. After a long desert crossing with no water around, it is also quite a relief to have a huge river flowing next to you that has an emergency abundance of the necessary H2O.

Most of the Sudanese (and Egyptian) landmass consists of deserts, with the lifeblood of the Nile River being a green band flowing through them, drawing to it human settlements. Charismatic rivers flow through many countries but few govern the ebb and flow of a country’s fortunes quite as much as the Nile River has done for Sudan and Egypt. From at least 4000BC small settlements have clung together in loose affiliations along the Nile.

I stopped north of Abri Dom to have look at a bridge that was in construction across the Nile. There were some children swimming in the water close to the bridge, so I decided to join them. It felt so refreshing to be in the cold Nile water! I have been surprised at how fast the Nile River flows – from its sources at Lake Victoria and Lake Tana, both streams are fast flowing and even at this point the Nile is very strong with some strong side currents. It is also a huge river, a lot bigger and wider than I thought it would be. From Abri Dom the road winds its way along the banks of the Nile. The swim had been so refreshing that I decided to stop every now and again for a dip in the lovely cold water. It was great riding along with wet clothes on, keeping my body cool in the intense desert heat.

At the villages along the way are small shady stalls that have been set up by the locals which house amphora’s (big jars) of cold water. The locals keep the amphorae full of water, which is done out of kindness to the travelers – they are not paid to do so! These stands are found along the roadsides throughout Sudan. It doesn’t take long after you have stopped at a village for a young local to run across to you carrying a cup of cold water – and they want nothing in return. This is Nubian kindness and hospitality at its best!

That night I decided I was going to camp somewhere along the Nile River rather than spend the night at another dodgy lokanda (guesthouse). I found a great camping spot near a pump station, and in his very broken English, the local pump attendant said that I could sleep the night in the new pump house store room that was still empty and had a great view overlooking the river. I spent the rest of the afternoon swimming with his three young sons in the river and teaching them how to skip stones across the water. That evening the pump attendant invited me to share dinner with him and his sons (I have no idea where the mom was?). I am totally humbled by the opportunity to have had dinner with this family - they have so little yet they give of themselves so freely. The pump attendant wanted nothing in return and seemed annoyed when I offered him some money. He also brought me a bed down to the pump house as he said that because I was a guest I should not sleep on my mattress on the floor! What a great day! I am humbled by these friendly people. The next morning I had tea with the pump attendant and his sons before heading on further up the Nile. I have never met such kind and caring people!

I continued my journey up the Nile and stopped every so often for a refreshing swim. This is the way desert riding should be! That morning I stopped in Dongola to get my motorbike boots fixed again. The intense heat seems to have melted the glue between the leather and the rubber part of the soles, so I had to get them re-glued! I managed to find a shoe repair guy in town who knew of just the glue to fix it – apparently this happens quite often here to western made shoes ha ha.

Along the Nile are a number of temples, built in the 14th Century, which I stopped to view. Unfortunately they are all on the opposite bank so I couldn’t view them up close. The temples were very difficult to find – none of them were sign-posted in English and very few locals that I asked even new that they existed. The old temples don’t seem to play any role in modern Sudanese life. What this means, however, is that very few people visit the temples which makes them great sites to visit as a tourist – they are not like the Egyptian sites that are packed with hundreds of tourists and tour-guides hassling you.

Early that afternoon I stopped at a water-stand and took some photos of the surrounds. A young guy at the stand asked me if I would take a photo of him and his brothers and sisters. I said I would. He ran inside and hauled out his brothers and sisters and I took the photo. He then asked me to take the camera inside his house to surprise his mom with the photo. I followed him inside and met his mom. She loved the photo and asked me for a copy. Unfortunately I do not carry around a printer, and she does not have an address or email or anything (the mud hut they stayed in was in the middle of nowhere). I felt quite bad because she desperately wanted a copy – I don’t think she had ever seen all of her kids in a photo. She did however invite me to tea and asked me if I wanted food – she even offered me accommodation for the night. I unfortunately had to decline as I needed to push on.

Later that afternoon I stopped for fuel at a busy little town north of Delgo. They have recently discovered gold in the area and there are a number of local fortune seekers walking around with metal detectors trying to find their early retirement plan in the desert sand. I got chatting to a young student whose English was pretty good. He was studying to be an electronics engineer in Khartoum and was fixing metal detectors as part of his vacation work program. I went with him and some friends down to the river for another refreshing swim. Before I left, I was again offered water, food and accommodation for the evening, but much to their disappointment, I again decided to head on …

That evening I found an amazing camping spot. The spot was on a cliff overlooking the Nile. There was a path down to the water with a great rock pool, which was fed by a constant stream of ice cold Nile water. There was also a fishing boat rowing up and down the river and some beautiful eagles floating above the water. The sunset that evening was amazing and the night opened up into a spectacular display of coloured skies and desert stars. I was waiting for a big star to appear but I don’t think God could find another two wise men in the area ha ha … maybe next time. I had a great evening on my own (oh sorry, with my motorbike – Big Ken) under the desert stars ... truly an experience I will never forget!

I am amazed by the beauty of the Sahara desert. The colours and windswept sights that are created make for some fantastic scenery. Although the desert has a harsh and very brutal side to it, it also manages to draw you in by its mesmerizing beauty. The colours displayed at sunrise and sunsets are spectacular and there is nothing that can compare to a night out under a desert sky! This desert has a beauty that I have never before experienced and something that is really fascinating me.

The following day I headed on to Wadi Halfa. The desert from Abri to Wadi Halfa was some of the most beautiful desert that I have experienced. The desert remains fairly sandy but is scattered with large peach coloured dunes which are glazed with a black rocky cover. It reminded me of peach ice-cream covered with chocolate sprinkles. Along the way the wind started to pick up and it was not too long before a sand storm had started to develop. Riding the motorbike through a sandstorm is challenging to say the least! The windblown sand stings your skin while the wind throws the motorbike all over the road. I managed to get to Wadi Halfa safely though and was relieved to get out of the wind.

Wadi Halfa was founded by a handful of Nubian families from the original Halfa (now buried under Lake Nasser) who resisted the governments forced relocation. The ferry to Egypt now docks here and leaves Wadi Halfa every Wednesday to Luxor. This means that I have a four day wait, in Wadi Halfa, for the ferry to arrive.

I booked into a place called Deffintood which is a very rough lokanda (room with a number of beds in it). I was surprised to find that it had electricity and a fan, but no other services were user friendly (showers, toilets etc). I made quite good friends with the local flies and bedbugs that seem to infest this place. To my surprise the owner insisted I park my motorbike in the small reception area at the front of the lokanda! He said that the motorbike may attract other guests ha ha. So I have pimped Big Ken out to the reception area in hope that by flashing his gearbox to unsuspecting customers he may attract them into this bug infested lair :-)

As very few tourists visit Sudan, the Sudanese have very little in the form of decent accommodation. Facilities are generally poor throughout the country, with the exception of a few hotels in Khartoum. This makes comfortable travel in Sudan virtually non-existent. Travel here is rough and ready and if this is not your style, then Sudan is not for you. A tent is about as close to “first class accommodation” as you will get whilst traveling here.

The following day (28/5) I decided to head out into the desert to take some more photos as there had been a sand storm the day before and I hadn’t managed to get any photos of this section of desert. It was great riding my bike on the dusty desert tracks. At one stage I saw a great look-out point just off the track and thought it would be easy enough to get to on my motorbike. Big mistake. As soon as I ventured off the track the motorbike sunk deep into the desert sand. Nothing I did seemed to help. I even tried digging the motorbike out but because the sand was so soft it just sunk deeper under its own weight. At this stage I was about 15km into the desert from Wadi Halfa and had no water with me. So I started to worry. Luckily, I was not too far from the Wadi Halfa – Dongola road so I managed to walk to the road. About twenty minutes later a taxi passed and I managed to flag it down. There were three men in the taxi and they walked with me back to the motorbike and within about ten minutes we had managed to lift the motorbike out of the sand and back onto the desert track. What a relief! I had visions of loosing Big Ken to the sandy desert. I continued to venture off into the desert but this time I was very careful not to leave the ‘tried and tested’ desert tracks. I managed to take some good pictures before heading back into Wadi Halfa.

There is a restaurant in Wadi Halfa that sells the most amazing mango juice!! (Have I told you that I have become a mango juice addict?) The mango is liquidized into a thin pulp and then frozen into an icy liquid that tastes absolutely amazing. I have never tasted anything as refreshing as this! A great thirst quencher for the hot sun and at only £S 1 (US 40c) for 500ml, it is an absolute God send.

The next day I bumped into Andraes Habek and family. Andraes is a great young (German) bloke that I had met in Nairobi (at Jungle Junction). He is 13 years old and has been travelling around the world with his parents (Hans and Carola) and his cute 2 year old brother Thomas. At only 13 years of age, Andraes has been fortunate enough to see most of the world in his travels with his parents – 5 out of his 13 years have been spent travelling the world by boat, car, bus, train and even walking. Hans (Andraes’ dad) has written a book (in German) about their shoestring travels around the world. Carola is a teacher and keeps Andraes up to speed with his schooling – in fact he manages to do very well at school and achieves well above average for his school year. It was interesting chatting to young Andraes. Being well travelled, he has a maturity well beyond his age and his worldly view on things makes the young man very interesting to chat to. He is also a dedicated KTM fan after I took him for a ride on Big Ken. That afternoon I climbed the mountain behind Wadi Halfa, with Andraes, and managed to take some good photos of Wadi Halfa, Lake Nasser and the surrounding desert.

The following day (2/6), the ferry was set to leave for Aswan (Egypt). The ferry is currently the only way of entering Egypt from Sudan – there are no land crossings between the two countries. Apparently a road is currently being built between Egypt and Sudan and it should be ready in the next five years.

That morning I met up with Alf and Anders, two guys from Norway, who have been travelling up from South Africa in their Land Rover and are heading back to Norway. The vehicles unfortunately could not travel with us on the ferry and had to travel on a separate barge. The barge was meant to leave before the ferry which was great because that meant that we could manage the loading of the vehicles ourselves. We spent the whole morning going through the Sudan (exit) Immigration and Customs and if it had not been for our assistant Mazar Mahir, it would have taken much longer. He seemed to know all the customs officials and we managed to skip all the queues – but, it still took us the whole morning to get through. I cannot get over all this arabocracy!! By 3pm we still had not managed to put our vehicles on the barge as they were still unloading goods off the barge. Eventually, much to my displeasure, I had to leave my motorbike for Mazar Mahir to load onto the barge while I boarded the ferry. I was really annoyed as I had wanted to manage the loading to ensure it was not damaged in any way.

The ferry left at 5pm. Alf, Anders and I managed to get a place on the top deck underneath the lifeboats which gave us some shelter from the sun. Andraes soon joined us, and we made ourselves comfortable for a night of sleeping under the stars.

Lake Nasser is absolutely massive. The original dam was built by the British at the beginning of the 20th Century; however, it was insufficient to keep the Nile in check during its annual spate. The Egyptian government was joined by several nations in building a new dam in the 1960’s. It was opened in 1971 and came to be seen as a symbol of Egypt’s independence. As the full environmental impact of the dam began to be understood, however, it became the source of much international controversy, not least on account of the ancient sites and the Nubian communities that were swallowed up by the creation of Lake Nasser.

That evening I was privileged to witness a gathering of Muslim men on the deck of the ferry all praying to Mecca in the east. I have been quite impressed by the devotion shown by these people to their religion. I am also very surprised by the gentle, kind and friendly nature shown by these people – very different to the impression that I have been given by the western press!

Sudan is the largest country in Africa and is one of the least visited countries on earth due to its various ongoing conflicts which are predominantly in the southern and western (Dafur) regions. However, the northeast Nubian region is one of the safest places in the world and with some of the friendliest and most hospitable people on earth (and with a natural generosity that far belies their poverty), it make for one of the most enjoyable countries I have ever visited.

Jaag maar aan.

Ethiopia

2010-05-14T19:34:00.010+03:00

The Kenyan border had opened at 7am and I had managed to get through in about 5 minutes. However, when I got to the Ethiopian side I was told that they only opened at 8am?!? This is Africa. I managed to get some good Ethiopian coffee and took the time to have my ‘new’ motorcycle boots repaired – the sole was starting to come off one of my boots already?!? Ethiopians pride themselves with having introduced coffee to the rest of the world and I must admit that the coffee was really good – just what I needed to start the day off.

At about 8am I was at immigration section at the Ethiopian border, but was told that they couldn’t start the process until the building had been swept – under instruction from the border manager – so I had to wait another 30 minutes for the building to be swept!! This is Africa. I eventually managed to get my passport stamped and then waited in the customs queue to get my bike’s carne stamped. There was no-one in the customs office but I was told to wait because he is on his way. By 10am he had still not arrived – so one of the border officials was sent to wake him up. He eventually arrived looking really hung-over. It took him a further 40 minutes to fill out the form (in triplicate) before I could eventually be on my way.

North of the border post (Moyale) things start to change quite dramatically. The countryside is covered by massive termite mounds, some of which rise about five meters into the air. The road then winds its way high up into luscious green mountains - not quite how I pictured Ethiopia to be! Many people remember the Ethiopia from the 80’s when there was a huge famine and millions of people died – but that is a far cry from the modern day Ethiopia. Ethiopia is surprisingly green, as green as Scotland in parts, and is rewarded by daily rains, especially at this time of the year. Unfortunately the majority of the country still relies on subsistence farming which leaves it in a vulnerable position, relying on a steady yearly rainfall to support its massive 85 million population. (The population in Ethiopia has grown from 55 million in the mid 1980’s to 85 million today!)

I also drove passed a camel market with hundreds of camels been bartered for – I thought camels were only used in desert areas?

Ethiopia is very different to the rest of Africa that I have seen. The roads are in fairly good condition, but very few people can afford personal vehicles. The majority of vehicles on the road are trucks, buses and taxis. My motorbike is therefore quite a phenomenon and as a result I am constantly hounded by whistles, screams and shouting as I pass. Every time I stop the motorbike I am surrounded by hundreds of people wanting to have a look at (and touch) the bike which can get quite annoying – there seems to be no concept of personal space here!

The fact that there are few vehicles on the roads does not mean that the roads are empty. Cars are replaced by donkey carts and roads are generally used for walking, riding donkeys or for herding livestock from one town to the next. There seems to be an explosion of people which can be quite mind-blowing, and who all flock to the main roads for transport. This obviously makes travel in Ethiopia very dangerous. Also, in Ethiopia, pedestrians have the right-of-way on roads and any accidents involving motor vehicles are always the motor vehicles fault! This means that pedestrians take very little care and walk in the middle of the road and / or refuse to get out of the way of faster moving traffic. Because few people have personal vehicles there is also very little general road / driving sense and it often happens that fully grown adults will even cross a street without so much as a glance to check whether there is any oncoming traffic! As one Ethiopian driver puts it, “the people are worse than the donkey’s”. Quite scary!

As there are relatively few vehicles in Ethiopia, fuel is scarce and of poor quality. Maybe one out of every four petrol stations that I have visited has fuel which is quite a concern.

Most modern motorbikes these days are legally obliged to travel with their headlights on – even during the day. In fact most modern motorbikes do not have an off-button for the headlights i.e. as soon as the bike is started the headlight is automatically switched on. My bike is one of these. As there are very few (modern) motorbikes in Ethiopia very few people are aware of this. As a result every person and vehicle I pass feels that it is their duty to inform me that I am riding with my lights on. Very annoying! I suppose that the mere fact that they are trying to tell me that my lights are on, shows that they have seen me – which is the whole idea, isn’t it?

I am not sure how to describe Ethiopia. The best description that I can think of is that it is a country that is stuck in the 10th century. Rural Ethiopia is very primitive – traditional small hamlets are formed that makes the green countryside look like a scene from a hobbit village in the ‘Lord of the Rings’. There is no commercial farming and all fields are ploughed with oxen and wooden implements. Cattle, goats and donkeys are herded by shepherds looking after their flock. There are no boundary fences and most farmers look like they have walked the rough road through life.

I managed to get to a place called Wondo Genet Resort and Hot Springs on the first day in Ethiopia, which is about 200km south of Addis Ababa. The springs are great and I spent a few hours in the therapeutic hot water springs helping my body recover from the previous few days of hard travelling. The resort is situated in the Bole Mountain range, overlooking the Great Rift Valley, and is surrounded by dense forest that is populated by playful colobus and vervet monkeys. There are also hundreds of different bird species here as well as massive vultures that seem totally out of place here. That evening I had my first taste of the local food injera which is a sour tasting pancake on which spicy tasting foods are heaped – the injera is used for wrapping around small pieces of food and for soaking up the spicy juices. Injera is eaten with the right hand only – as the left hand is used for toiletry duties here!

The next day 11/5 I rode to Addis Ababa. Addis is s dirty, dusty city located in the centre of Ethiopia. It is also the place that the poor Ethiopians flock to in search of jobs and better opportunity. As a result the streets are full of beggars and cripples trying their best to make a living and stay alive. Money is very scarce in these parts and unfortunately faranji (white people) are seen to be the money carriers – as a result I was constantly hounded by people offering to be my tour guide through Addis. Even when I said that I didn’t need their services they still continued to follow me around from one place to the next in hope that I would change my mind. Now I know how celebrities feel with the paparazzi constantly following them around!

The first night I stayed at Wims Holland House which had been recommended to me in Nairobi. As it was full, the only room they had was a tiny room in the servants quarters. In the room next door, a dog had just had 5 puppies which kept me up all night, so the next day I moved to the Taitu Hotel which was built in 1898 and hadn’t had any maintenance done to it since. The hotel was awful, but by Ethiopian standards it was one of the better ones.

That day I decided to do a tour of the numerous museums in Addis Ababa. Ethiopia has a fascinating history and much of the evidence is housed within the Addis museums. As the museums only opened at 9am, I first went to the Piazza for some coffee at Tomoca, a world famous coffee house in Addis. The coffee was amazing and I ended up on quite a buzz after treating myself to four different local coffees.

On my way to the National Museum I stopped to ask for directions. I got directions from a young , decent looking guy called Solomon, who claimed to be a university student studying tourism. He said that the museum was close to the university so I could walk with him there. He showed me to the museum and after I had finished, he was waiting for me outside the museum, asking me where I wanted to go to next. I asked why he had not gone to university and he told me that he did not have to go to university that day??? So, Solomon became my tour guide. It was interesting chatting to him – he was apparently from northern Ethiopia and had 9 brothers and 1 sister. His dad had 3 wives, one of which was his mother. At an early age he had been taken from his parents and had gone to a missionary school as his parents could not afford to keep him. He knows who his parents are, but does not wish to keep in contact with them because they want him to become a farmer – instead he has moved to Addis for a ‘better life’. He now lives with his male friend in a small single bed apartment in Addis somewhere. I am not sure how he affords university or if he even attends university – to be honest, I have my doubts! However, he seemed trustworthy and friendly enough and never asked for any money for his guiding services.

The National Museum houses some of the most important exhibits in sub-saharan Africa. The paleontology exhibit contains fossilized evidence of some amazing extinct creatures, like the sabre toothed feline and the gargantuan savannah pig. The exhibit also has the skeleton of Homo Rhodesiensis which was one of the earliest skeletons of man, found in Southern Rhodesia in the 1920’s. Homo Rhodesiensis is thought to be 0.6 - 0.2 million years old (pic on left). Note how big the brain of the Rhodesian species is! The star of the exhibit, however, is the skeleton of ‘Lucy’ (named after the Beatles song “Lucy in the sky with diamonds” - pic on right). Lucy was found in the Afar Depression of Ethiopia and is estimated to be 3.2 million years old. Her brain is no larger than a chimpanzee’s but she walked on two legs which (unfortunately) places her on the same family tree as man. She was only 3.5 feet tall! The rest of the museum shows exhibits of the pre-Aksumite, Aksumite, Solomonic and Gonder periods of Ethiopian history which are equally fascinating. It also houses collections of Ethiopian royal paraphernalia, including those of Emperor Haille Selassie. Also interesting was the display on ancient musical instruments.

Next stop was the St George Cathedral that was commissioned by Emperor Menelik in 1896 to commemorate the defeat of the Italians in Adwa. The most important thing about the cathedral is that it houses the tomb of Emperor Haile Silassie. Outside the cathedral is a museum which houses one of the best collections of ecclesiastical equipment including orthodox crowns, prayer sticks, ancient holy scrolls, ceremonial umbrella’s and coronation clothing of Zewditu and Haille Selassie. I am not too sure the tour guide had his facts straight though – he claimed that Haille Selassie was a descendant of the biblical Solomon himself. I asked how they knew that since there is no scientific evidence of this - the guide told me that Haille Selassie was the son of Emperor Menelik who was the son of Solomon?? I think he is missing a couple of hundreds of generations in between! Does he really think Solomon lived in the 19th century?

I decided I had enough of the museums for the day. I told my self-appointed tour guide, Solomon that I would be keen to go to an Azmari restaurant that evening. He said that he knew of just the place, about a 10 minute walk from the hotel.

Azmari is an ancient form of entertainment provided by the Azmari (singing minstrel) and his masenko (single-stringed fiddle). He is also accompanied by a drummer and traditional Ethiopian dancers. Azmari’s prance around the restaurant / bars, singing witty songs about anything, which they make up on the spot. Quite an art.

At 7pm, we met up. After walking for about 100 meters to the venue, one of Solomons ‘best friends’ miraculously appeared and decided to join us. Solomon said that there was a slight change in plan and that he would take me to a ‘better’ azmari place about a 10 minute taxi ride away. After the taxi ride (yes, I had to pay for all three of us) I was taken to some dingy house. I was led into the lounge which had been cleared as a dance floor. The next thing about 10 women came out and asked me if I wanted a drink. Judging by the way these women were dressed and their flirtatious ways, I could see that they were hookers. They said that they were just student azmari dancers trying to make a living – I could see this had all been rigged. To humor them, I asked how much it would cost for them to dance but got no response – eventually they said it was free if I buy drinks. I asked for a beer and ordered Solomon and his friend (who seemed to have organized all of this because he knew the women) a glass of wine each. The women then asked me to buy them some wine too – I thought this was strange, so I asked how much wine was only to be told it was 75 birr a glass!! – almost ten times the cost of a beer!!! So I told them that they can have wine but I am not paying!! I was starting to lose my temper as I could see I was being ripped-off so I paid 160 birr (1 beer and 2 glasses of wine for my two ‘friends’) and left. To put this into perspective the average monthly salary for an Ethiopian is 150 birr!!! When I left, some of the hookers thought that I may be persuaded to stay by taking some of their clothes off which got me even more annoyed. I left feeling annoyed and ripped off!

Solomon apologized and said that it was all a big misunderstanding. After ditching his scaly friend at my request, Solomon then took me to a proper Azmari restaurant. Azmari is great fun! Although I didn’t understand a word, the laughter from the locals is contagious. It was also great having Solomon there to translate what the azmari was saying. The azmari singer also sang a song about me which everyone thought was hilarious (He thought that I was “Gerry” from “Austria”?? and was singing about mountains (the Alps?) and goats- which even I thought was funny – he had obviously heard Solomon wrong when he asked Solomon who I was). The traditional dancers are also quite a laugh – they dance with their hands on their hips and shake their shoulders and their heads about, whilst glaring eye-to-eye at their partner with no expressions on their faces – I thought it was hilarious as it reminded me of chickens squaring each other up before fighting with each other. It was all great fun though and I ended up having a great laugh and a good time.

I decided to stay an extra day in Addis as there was a KTM dealer (Flavio Bonuiti) who I wanted to have a look at my bike. There was an intermittent warning light that appeared and I had no idea what it was. Flavio plugged the bike into his computer only to find that it was a warning light telling me that the bikes exhaust emissions were bad because of the poor quality petrol in Ethiopia – nothing serious. I must say at this stage that I am extremely impressed with the KTM (named Kenneth Thomas Motorcycle (KTM) or ‘Big Ken’ by his close mates) – since South Africa it has not even missed a beat and I have taken it down some terrible roads!! To be honest I have not even had to stop to fix a puncture yet, which is probably more a testament to my lack of riding skills than anything else. Let’s hold thumbs that Big Ken keeps up the good work.

The next day (15/5) I headed north towards Woldia. I would need to overnight in Woldia before my final destination of Lalibela. The map shows the road to Woldia as a straight road, but it is far from straight. The road rises to the town of Dessie at a height of 2470m before plummeting down again and back up to Woldia at 2112m. The trip from Addis to Woldia is 570km but it took me almost 12 hours.Along the way I past numerous abandoned army tanks, remnants of Ethiopia’s violent history.

Woldia is not a great place to stay, but provides a springboard to Lalibela which is a further 172km away. That night I stayed at the Arsama Hotel in Woldia. What a dump! I was given a room on the ground floor facing the courtyard – little did I know that the courtyard became the local tavern in the evenings, so I was kept up until 1am with drunken debauchery. At 05h30 I was woken by the hotel manager, banging on the door and asking me: “Mister, are you leaving today? Where are you going?” I responded by hurling my riding boot at the door and telling him to F-off!” About 15 minutes after my rude awakening, I had another knock on the door – this time it was the parking guard to ask me for his “tip” as he was finished his duty for the evening. He got the same treatment. And to top it off at 06h00 I had another knock on the door from a porter asking me if I needed help carrying my bags to the motorbike?? Well, by then I had had enough and went and let the manager know what I thought of his ‘hotel’. By 06h30 I was out of there with a very grumpy staff that had been given a start to the morning with a strongly-worded piece of my mind. The porter seemed to be the most grumpy as I had refused to let him carry my bags the 20m to the motorbike, and he had thus missed out on his opportunity to earn 5 birr.

The road to Lalibela was great.

Again it wound its way through the very dramatic landscape before hitting the 64km gravel section to Lalibela.

The Ethiopians believe that 1000 years ago, King Lalibela was poisoned by his half-brother and was taken by angels to the first, second and third heavens. Here God showed him a city of rock-hewn churches and then commanded him to return to earth and to recreate what he had seen. No matter what you have heard about Lalibela, no matter how many pictures you have seen of its breathtaking rock-hewn churches, its dimly lit passageways or its hidden crypts and grottoes, nothing on earth can prepare you for the reality of seeing it for yourself. It is truly a wonder of Africa and is often referred to as the eighth wonder of the world.

Lalibela has 11 rock-hewn churches and it was believed that they were built in the late 12th century over a period of only 21 years – the Ethiopians believe that during the day a workforce of 40,000 carved out the churches, while at night the work force was replaced by angels who toiled away during the hours of darkness?!? Mmmmm. The churches, however, were truly spectacular and have been immaculately preserved through time. Each church still houses their original cross, which is carried and protected by the high priest of the church who has passed it down from century to century. These crosses were given to each church by King Lalibela himself.

Some of the churches still house the original 12th century paintings that were used to decorate them. These paintings are important historical depictions of early Christian understandings. There are also a number of mummified corpses that litter the church surroundings – these are mainly of earlier high priests who requested to be laid to rest near their beloved churches. I was really impressed with the churches and they are a must visit for anyone planning a trip to Ethiopia!!

That evening I stayed in the Seven Olives Hotel, which is reportedly owned by Haille Selassie’s daughter. The hotel is high up overlooking Lalibela and has gardens populated by a large variety of different bird species. Sunsets from the restaurant balcony are amazing!

The following day (17/5) I headed to Bahir Dar on the shores of Lake Tana. Along the way I passed the following Elementary School. I must admit that on some occasions I felt the same way about my elementary school :-)

Ethiopians like to describe Bahir Dar as their Riviera, with its shaded palm trees and its sweeping views across Lake Tana. I found Lake Tana to be rather mystical. The misty fog that covers the lake in the mornings gives Lake Tana and eerie appearance. Lounging around the lakeside with a few beers at hand and watching the pelicans skirt the surface is a great way to pass the time. I also spotted the ‘unsinkable’ tankwa canoe that is made from woven papyrus and used to carry heavy loads – even oxen – across the lake. Lake Tana, however, is more well renowned for its 16th century island monasteries though most were founded much earlier and may even have been the site of early Christian shrines.

The following day I took a boat trip out to visit three of the monasteries. My fellow tourists were Jesus (a guy from Spain) and two nuns (from Italy) … so, I knew I was in good hands :-) I must admit that I was totally amazed with the monasteries. Some of the monasteries are covered in painting’s, some dating back to the 12th century of early bible depictions. Jesus (the Spanish toursit) had a degree in ancient art and it was interesting spending time with him getting his views on the art!

The one monastery that we visited (Kebran Gabriel) had a tour guide that was wearing a St. Kilda Football Club t-shirt (an Aussie Rules Football Club)?? He had no idea who St. Kilda are – he probably just thought that he was being quite ‘saintly’ by wearing a shirt with a cross on it. The latin words at the bottom probably mean something like: “Lets kill our opponents.”

I am amazed by some of the Bible stories that I have heard here. Apparently Jesus’s mother Mary did not die but lived forever. Anyone seen her around? Also one of Jesus’ miracles was that he turned mud into doves? Now I am no expert on the Bible but I have never heard these stories? (There is a good possibility though that I missed those Sunday School lessons – sorry Aunty June - my aunt was my Sunday School teacher). I am also not too sure what Bible scenes these two pictures (below) represent, but I could have missed these Sunday School lessons too!

Kebran Gabriel houses some of the oldest copies of some of the original Christian manuscripts. It also houses one of the oldest versions of the gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) which is written in five parts – the first being an illustrated version of the gospels, followed by the full-Amharic translations of the original books. To be honest I was a bit shocked by the lack of security for these manuscripts. The guide was using his hands to finger his way through these manuscripts showing us the different pages. All the manuscripts were also freely available for anyone to hold and view. These documents are hundreds of years old!! … and are probably some of the most important pieces of evidence to our Christian heritage. Shouldn’t these things be locked away and carefully guarded for future Christian generations? I was also surprised that the guide was allowed to touch the original 12th century paintings whilst telling us what the paintings depicted? I am no expert in art (or religion), but I seriously think that some authority should intervene before these historical treasures are damaged or lost forever!

That afternoon I had a few beers with Jesus :-) whilst watching a contest to see how many people could squeeze onto a boat.

The next day I headed off to Gonder which was about a 2 hour ride north. The landscape is starting to get a bit dryer now, but still very mountainous. It is not what Gonder is, but what Gonder was that is so enthralling. Often called the Camelot of Africa, this description does the royal city a disservice: Camelot is legend, whereas Gonder is reality. In the 17th century, Gonder was the capital of Ethiopia as it lay at the crossroads of three major caravan routes: to the southwest lay rich sources of gold, ivory and slaves; to the northeast lay Massawa and the Red Sea; and to the northwest lay Sudan and Egypt.

In the early afternoon I took my bike into a tyre repair shop to have the back tyre changed for a new ‘second-hand’ one that I had purchased in Nairobi and have been carrying around since. At the tyre place I met David, an Australian guy from Brisbane, who was travelling south through Africa on his BMW 650GS. When David left the tyre repair place, he realized someone had stolen his wheel spanner. So I told them that I would not pay for my tyre fitment until it was ‘found’ – sure enough about 20 minutes later the spanner miraculously reappeared. Good to see that miracles still happen in Ethiopia.

Later that afternoon I visited the Royal Enclosure which houses the various palaces of the kings that reigned in this period. This enclosure was made a World Heritage Site in 1979. These palaces include Fasiladas Palace, Dawit’s Palace (1716-1721); Bakaffa’s Palace (1721-1730), Mentewab’s castle and Iyasu I’s / Yohannes I Palace (1667 – 1682; 1682-1706). Included in the enclosure are also kitchens, banquet halls, horse stables, turkish bath’s, libraries and two lion houses (where, until recently, Abyssinian lions were kept). Very interesting visit!

That evening I met up with David and his travelling mates that he had met up with along the way (Alexis and Adam – from Sweden – both on KTM Adventure’s – see www.gosouth.se). The week before Adam had had an accident and hit a young kid (who turned out to be 28 years old), who had run out into the road. Adam had spent a few hours in jail – in the jail he was told that the ‘kid’ had died and that he would have to pay 3000birr ($US 220) to the family (this just shows how cheap life is around these parts). Luckily Alex went to the hospital only to find that the 28 year old ‘kid’ was still alive – in fact, not only was he alive but he had also been discharged and had walked home! African corruption at its best – anything to get a quick buck out of the faranji! Anyway, Adam was let out of prison, very relieved! He only had to pay the ‘kid’s’ medical bill which was a few dollars. I later found out that the cost for killing a cow on the road is 6000birr; double that of a human being!?!

The next day I planned to visit the Simien National Park, but unfortunately they have recently decided that motorbikes are not allowed into the park. So I would have to pay $US 200 for a one day park excursion (Park Fee + transport + guide). A guide facilitator (called Bewkt) told me that I could take a one-day trip for $US 50 to the southern part of the park which was 1 hour away and where I was guaranteed to see the renowned Gilada Baboons. I paid him the money.

The next day I was picked up. As it happened, Jesus was also on the trip. Following a discussion, I found out that he had only paid $US 15 for the trip and that it was not into the Simien National Park. To top it off, there were few Gelada Baboons where we were going and chances of seeing them were slim! It was also not a full-day trip but a morning only trip! I was furious!

I must admit, the trip was quite scenic and the mountain views were awesome.

There was a little kid who followed us around on the mountain walk. I don’t think he had ever had a bath and the flies just flocked to the poor guy. I will never forget the sight of the poor guy with flies on his face – the locals here have got so used to the flies that they don’t even blink when the flies go into their eyes! I felt sorry for the poor kid – I wonder what the future holds for the poor guy?

I had been cheated. I got back at lunchtime and sent a few scouts out to find Bewkt, the dodgy guide facilitator. By mid-afternoon none of the scouts had managed to locate him, so I decided to go to the police station and report him. I hate been swindled! It didn’t take the cop (with an AK47 strapped around his shoulder) long to locate him and it didn’t take much persuading for him to refund me the rest of the money – he also apologized. Later that evening he was back at my hotel trying to persuade me to take another of his dodgy tours – I obviously told him where to go and stick it.

The next day (21/5) I headed to the Sudanese border. Sunday is the Election Day in Ethiopia and I wanted to get out. Besides, I had had enough of the Ethiopians. The ride west to the border town of Metema was hot and dry. The greenery had disappeared and the harsh Sahara Desert environment was beginning to show it face.

I managed to get through the Ethiopian border in about 30 minutes with no problems – except for a money exchanger who called me an ‘apartheid’ because I had a South African passport??
Jaag maar aan.

My thoughts on the Ethiopian People:

Ethiopian’s have a strongly religious history and are one of the first cultures to have adopted Christianity as their primary religion. This is truly evident by the hundreds of ancient and spectacular monasteries and churches that can be found throughout Ethiopia. Some of these date back to the times of King Solomon and Queen Sheba (who was thought to have lived in the Aksum area of Ethiopia). Even the “Ark of the Covenant’ is thought to be held in Aksum’s St Mary of Zion church.

However, I am failing to see modern Christianity in the Ethiopian way and particularly in the behavior of the modern Ethiopian (rural) population.

The city dwelling Ethiopians are predominantly poor and as a result beggars and chancers flock towards any ‘faranji’s’ (white people) in hope that they can relieve them of their foreign earned cash. As a result I was usually followed around town (Addis Ababa) by an entourage of both beggars and young men who had hopes of becoming my chosen ‘tour guide’. Sometimes they would wait for me for hours outside my hotel. Although this is highly annoying, it is understandable. The people here are poor and they are trying to make a living. Most of the time, they do it in a friendly way and I never felt threatened.

But, it is not the city dwellers that I have a problem with. It is the large rural population. For some reason, rural Ethiopians display a serious hate and anger towards any faranji. Whilst riding past rural groups of people I was often shouted at, often with animated fists raging. Although I had no idea what they were saying, I could see by the intense hatred and anger in their eyes that they were definitely not terms of endearment. In some instances, shouts would be accompanied by stones being thrown at me, cattle whips being cracked in my direction, rocks or branches thrown ahead of the motorbike’s path, or people trying to hit me with a stick as I drove past.

In one instance a young man tried to throw a stick into the spokes of my front wheel as I drove past - at about 100km/h! Luckily he missed and the stick bounced off the front tyre – in this instance I stopped the bike and turned back to confront him. He had long since disappeared as only a coward would. I did find the stick though and it was made of very hard and strong wood – I couldn’t break it. Had he succeeded there is no doubt that I would have been seriously injured, or possibly worse. What concerns me more though is: ‘Why does this young man have so much built-up aggression towards me (purely based on my skin colour), that he would make an attempt at my life’?

In the majority of cases, these acts were carried out by young children and teenagers. However, in a few instances these acts were carried out in front of elders who did nothing about it. In a few instances, I even saw the elders laughing at the children’s misbehavior. In one instance a policeman was even present with the elders. I am a strong believer that children are not born evil – they have learnt this from somewhere. It is their parents and elders that have installed this hatred in them. So, in my opinion, the parents and elders are to blame for idly standing by and in some cases condoning or supporting their violent actions!

I am interested to find out where this intense hatred of the faranji comes from. Following recent Ethiopian history it makes little sense. It was predominantly the faranji countries (the Commonwealth and Western Europe countries) that contributed millions of dollars in the 1980’s to try and help Ethiopia in its time of need, whilst millions of its people died of starvation. If it wasn’t for projects such as Band Aid, started by Sir Bob Geldoff, and his Feed the World efforts, millions of more Ethiopians would have died. It was the faranji’s who stood up and helped when Ethiopia needed it most.

There are apparently about 15 million people in Ethiopia that still rely on foreign food aid. When the Ethiopian Prime Minister was recently asked why it is that some 20 years after the famine, Ethiopia still cannot provide for itself, his response was to blame the food charities. He said that if it wasn’t for the food charities there would not have been a population problem in Ethiopia! I thought governments were meant to work for the people? (I can just imagine Australia's response if K-Rudd had have said that!)

I am really disappointed in the Ethiopian people. In future I will not be contributing to any Ethiopian Famine Relief coffers and I will not be an advocate to tourism in Ethiopia! Instead I would rather silently watch as the current Ethiopian generation rots in their own hatred. I will rather use my energy praying to my God and asking Him to please provide Ethiopia with a new generation of the ‘Kind’ and ‘Caring” people that their tourism posters claim them to be. What happened to “Love thy neighbour”?

(Although I am disappointed with the general behavior of the Ethiopian people, I did meet some nice people (like young Solomon). I am also amazed with the beauty of the Ethiopian countryside.It is truly spectacular and makes up for all the nonsense. Views are breathtaking and the scenery is dramatic. I am very happy that I have seen Ethiopia but, unless there are some serious attitude changes, I would not do so again. Well, not on a motorbike anyway. I am not the only person who has had these bad experiences – they are widely reported on other travel sites and blogs. However, I am led to believe that the current Ethiopian Minister for Tourism has recently made repeated television and media requests for the Ethiopians to treat tourists with the respect they deserve as visitors to the country. A step in the right direction, I suppose.)

Please note that the above is my opinion only – some other travelers that I have spoken to did not have the same experiences as me and in some cases found the people to be genuinely friendly and accommodating. I suppose it depends on when and where you are travelling in Ethiopia.

Kenya-Uganda-Kenya

2010-05-03T16:21:00.006+03:00

The road up to Nairobi was in an equally poor condition but the surrounding countryside was spectacular. The countryside opened up into flat, rolling, grassy plains and I managed to take some great photos of the oncoming storm.

My first impression of Nairobi was not a good one. The road entered Nairobi from the slum area – the busy streets were all covered in mud and everything was wet and dirty. I had been recommended to stay at Jungle Junction which is a backpackers / campsite run by a great German guy called Christo. Christo also has a fully equipped workshop that he and his team use to fix up the damaged overland trucks and motorbikes that attempt the trans-africa routes. Christo ended up being and invaluable source of help and has given some great information / advice on the dreaded northern stretches of the Kenyan roads – often referred to as the “road to hell” from most travelers who have attempted this route. I will be heading up there in a few weeks time.

That weekend I met up with Beau and Caroline, an English couple who, together with Caroline’s dad (Ken) are travelling down Africa from the UK on their 200cc motorbikes. Beau, Caroline and I spent the Sunday at the David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage. The team at the orphanage do a great job rehabilitating orphaned elephants (from the various Kenyan National Parks), back into the wild. It was great to see and we really had a great time feeding the young elephants and learning more about this great program.

On Monday 19/4, I took my motorbike in to the local KTM dealer for a much needed service. In true Kenyan style, the owner of the dealership only arrived at the workshop at 09h00 and had disappeared for lunch from 11h00 – 14h30. I spent my time in the workshop helping the local african mechanic and showing him exactly what to do because he had never worked on the bigger KTM Adventure’s before – I would have serviced the bike myself, but it needed to be serviced by a KTM dealer in order to keep the warranty.

Later that day Olly, Huon and Jonny arrived from Malindi. It was really great to see them again!! Good bunch of guys. That night we headed into town to catch up with one of Jonny’s mates and her friends who were in Nairobi as volunteers for a few weeks. The girls spent the evening complaining about how awful Africa is – which really annoyed Olly and I - I think they were expecting Africa to be more first world?? We all ended up in the Flamingo Night Club (I think), being accosted by the african hookers who were trying their best to alleviate us of our western money. Olly and I decided to rather donate our money to the cause of trying to get hammered. Once successful, we plucked up the courage to hit the dance floor. Neither of us are particularly great dancers, and by the end of evening we were very enthusiastically proving that to everyone ha ha!!

The next day Mel arrived (yay!) from the Ngorogoro Crater and we all went out to dinner at Carnivores. I must admit that the meat that was offered was some of the best that I have ever tasted! Carnivores truly deserves its reputation as being one of the top 50 restaurants in the world. We really pigged out and had a great time catching up. It was good to have all five of us back together again!!

The next evening was meant to be a quiet one because we planned to take a bus to Jinja (Uganda) the next day. But when the five of us are together, there is no such thing as a ‘quiet evening’. As it turned out, we were still in town partying at 5am – the bus was to leave at 8am! We decided that sleeping was cheating, so we rushed home, grabbed our bags and headed back to the bus depot. By the time we got there the bus had left, but we were told that there was another bus at 10am. We managed to sneak in breakfast and a few more beers :-) before boarding the bus at 10am for the 12 hour bus trip to Jinja.

The bus was awful to say the least. I don’t think that the suspension had ever been repaired / maintained since the bus was built in the 1950’s. Any small bump on the road was amplified through the bus and we ended up being catapulted off our seats and into the roof on some occasions. Quite annoying when you are tired. We went through a huge thunderstorm along the way and I think I would have been dryer on my motorbike than in this bus – the bus leaked water everywhere. At around mid-night we reached the Kenya / Uganda border post – it was still pouring with rain – there were hundreds of people and we had to line up in the pouring rain! Luckily, being ‘Mzungu’ (white) we were quickly ushered to the front of the que and got all the paperwork done.

We arrived in Jinja at around 2am and headed into town after being ripped off by a taxi driver who quite obviously did not even have a drivers license – he managed to stall the car at least five times (maybe more) on the 5km trip. When we got to the backpackers in town, we were told that they were full! They did, however, manage to get us in to another backpackers further down the river and after a few celebratory beers we headed off there. We were all soooo tired and it wasn’t long before we crashed to sleep.

We woke up the next day to the most stunning view. The backpackers that we were at (NRE Backpackers) was situated on a high bank overlooking the Nile River! Below the restaurant the White Nile begins its long journey snaking its way through Uganda, Sudan and Egypt towards the Mediterranean sea. Below us, huge whitewater rapids fought their way through the ravines. Fish eagles floated majestically through the air terrorizing the fish below. Truly beautiful.

We spent the day recovering from the hectic bus trip. We had wanted to do a tour of the Nile Special Brewery which my flat-mate from university had built – but was told it was not yet open for tours. Sorry Harvey – but it is a good beer though (and at a wopping 5.6% alcohol, you can’t go wrong).

By the evening we were back to full spirits again and headed into Jinja to find a restaurant. The restaurant owners were silly enough to have a dart-board installed in the restaurant. Mel had told us about this game that her and her mates played at university called “Treadmill Darts”. Basically you run at full speed on a treadmill which is facing 90 degrees to the dartboard and you try your best to hit the bulls-eye. We obviously didn’t have a treadmill so we started by playing “Running on the spot darts”– running at full pace – and trying to hit the dartboard. Mel was hilarious and she had both Olly and I on the floor in absolute hysterics ha ha. I am giggling just writing this  I think the only safe thing in the restaurant, when Mel was throwing, was the dart-board ha ha. The darts were going all over the restaurant and we managed to get quite a crowd of people laughing at us whilst ducking from the odd rogue dart. The game then moved on to “Star-Jump Darts”, “Under-Leg Darts”, “Push-Up Darts” and Olly’s invention “Cowboys Darts” which was my favorite – with cowboy darts you start with three darts in your pocket and with one quick underhanded draw you flick your wrist and try and get the dart to hit the dartboard. Absolutely hilarious. Great fun - one of the best nights I have had on the trip! Thanks for the laughs. Later Jonny and Huon joined us and we took over the X-Box games – good fun shared with great mates!!

The next day Mel, Olly and I got up early to go White-Water Rafting on the Nile. Jinja boasts some of the best white-water rafting in the world. The White Nile at its source (Lake Victoria) is very powerful and with the recent heavy rains makes for some great rafting. There are numerous rapids ranging from grades 1 to 6. We hooked up with Jack and Ryan who had recently finished studying law at Oxford. They are great guys and together with Kirk (Captain Kirk) our guide we made up a team of six on the raft. We had a great day – rather scary at times on the rapids and only managed to flip the raft once! Quite a feat considering that most of the other rafters spent more time in the water than in their rafts. We finished the day with a much needed braai and a few beers.

Later that evening we hooked up again with Jack, Ryan and some of their travelling mates (George, Jasper and others). We started playing a drinking game called 3-man. As the boys had bought along a funnel, they decided to adapt the game slightly which resulted in a funnel full of beer being downed for breaking the silence on every 6 and 4 dice combination thrown – those of you who have played 3-man will know what I mean. After about an hour, Olly and I had about 4 beers each through the funnel because we couldn’t stop talking / laughing at each other. Quite an evening – we ended up in town again - and had a huge argument with an armed security guard who had caught Mel urinating in the bushes behind an ATM. It wasn’t until his boss arrived that he decided to let us go – I think he was just looking for money. Doos.

The next day we said cheers to Mel who was heading further through Uganda and into Rwanda. I plan to catch up with her again when I get to Ethiopia. It was sad to see her go and I am sure there were some tears shed in our group hug. Olly, Jonny, Huon and I then took the midnight bus back to Nairobi. The bus trip back to Nairobi was just as bad. I didn’t get any sleep the whole way back.

The next day was to be our last day together as Olly was heading back down to southern Africa for a few weeks, and Jonny and Huon were flying back to the UK. That night we went out to this French / Swiss Restaurant that gives Carnivores a good run for its money. The food was amazing and the owner / chef was very proud of his restaurant and the quality food it produces. He also gave Olly and I complimentary vodka that was made from glacier water – which was quite nice actually. Later, we headed back to Jungle Junction and shared a few last beers together.

The next morning I took Olly to the airport at 5am on my motorbike. It was sad to see Olly go. He and I have become really close friends over the past few weeks. Friendships like this, that are made along the way, are what really make my trip worthwhile. We have agreed to hook up at the end of my trip for a few days in Italy. I am already looking forward to it. Hu and Jonny are also truly legends and such quality mates – the three of them are awesome people and we have become great friends – I am sure we will hook up again for another holiday or two!! Hu and Jonny left later that day for the UK. I was grumpy to see my mates go. Deserters.

Over the last few days, the Ethiopian High Commissioner in Nairobi, had decided to stop issuing Ethiopian Visa’s to foreigners. I went to speak to him and he was having none of it – he couldn’t even give me a good reason as to why – I think he was just trying to flex his authority - so that left me stranded in Kenya for a while, whilst I try and organize a visa through the Ethiopian embassy in South Africa. Unfortunately there is no other safe way to get me and my bike into northern Sudan – the other options are Somalia / Eritrea or through the Dafur region – none of these routes are too appealing!

I decided to take a couple of days off and take a tour to some of the Rift Valley lakes, while I wait for my visa. I am glad I did! My first port-of-call was Lake Naivasha. The road from Nairobi to Lake Naivasha climbs high up onto a plateau before plummeting down into the Great Rift Valley. There are some great lookout points from the top of the plateau over the Rift Valley. The Great Rift Valley spans over 9600km, from Israel in the north, to Mozambique in the south. The area around Lake Naivasha has one of the largest remaining expat communities in Kenya. The tea-coloured lake itself is home to an incredible variety of birds, including fish eagles and flamingoes. The surrounding countryside is a major agricultural area. Huge commercial flower plantations are also grown here for the international market.

I decided to take the ring-road around the lake which was quite beautiful. Huge, yellow-coloured umbrella trees are sporadically littered across the area and it gives the area a truly African feel. (The movie ‘Out of Africa’ was filmed in this area). Along the way, I decided to visit the Crater Lakes National Park, one of the very few national parks in Africa that you can visit on a motorcycle. It is such an invigorating feeling driving through a nature reserve on a motorbike – it feels as if you are a part of it – but too be honest it can get quite scary and you feel quite vulnerable. I did manage to take some great photos of Nyala, Eland, Giraffe, Zebra and some smaller antelope.

I had lunch at an awesome restaurant on the rim of the volcanic crater overlooking the lake that had formed within. The birdlife here is spectacular – Dad, you would be in your element. I spent about two hours looking at hundreds of different bird species that for some reason have flocked to this area. Birds from as little as a few inches tall, to huge great cranes are to be found here in varying shapes and colours. I could have spent the whole day there but had to move on as I planned to see Lake Nukuru too ..

I arrived at Lake Nakuru just in time to watch the sun setting over the lake. Quite beautiful. That evening I stayed at a tree-house lodge (Kembu Lodge) which was absolutely awesome. Food was great, beers were cold – just what I needed after a long ride.

The next day (1/5), I headed across to Lake Baringo. The drive to the lake was stunning and truly african. Along the way I crossed the Equator for the first time on my bike! (I had crossed it in the bus to Uganda, but that doesn’t count). This is my second big milestone for the trip after having crossed the Tropic of Capricorn in Mozambique. I checked the co-ordinates on my GPS and it seems that the sign had been placed about 200m south of the actual equatorial line ha ha – only in Africa.

I got to Lake Baringo just after lunch. Lake Baringo is encircled by mountains and dotted with picturesque islands. This is a well renowned place for bird-watchers who come here from around the world to view the abundant birdlife. The lake is also resident to a large crocodile population and the local hippos add a frisson of excitement to any stay here. I spent the afternoon walking the shores of the lake and managed to take some great photos of the animal-life and the huge storm that was developing over the lake.

That night I stayed at the Tamarind Resort which was very competitively priced and had great food.

The next day I headed to Thompsons Falls. The ride was great and climbed its way back up the plateau. The falls are quite spectacular, but not nearly comparable to Victoria Falls. At the falls, I managed to take some photos of the local Kikuyu tribes people who were dressed up in their traditional clothing. Their outfits and the cakes of make-up and mud smeared over their faces make for quite a fearsome sight. I had lunch at the Thompson Falls Lodge before heading back to Nairobi.

After returning to Nairobi, I found out that the application for an Ethiopian visa had been rejected in South Africa. The Ethiopian embassy in South Africa rejected the visa because I was in Nairobi and said that I should apply for the visa there – so I was caught in a bit of a stale-mate, the two embassies’s arguing about where it is that I should apply. As I was getting nowhere, I decided to go to the South African embassy in Nairobi and ask for some assistance. I requested to speak to the SA High Commissioner to Kenya as I was fed-up with dealing with people who held little influence. Unfortunately he was busy but I met up with the Deputy High Commissioner, Mr. Thulani Nyembe, who invited me into his office for tea. As it turned out he went to the same university as me (Wits University) at about the same time that I was there, so we had plenty to talk about. He also showed a genuine interest in my opinion on South Africa and it was great to talk to someone, in a highly diplomatic role, that is so positive about South Africa’s future. I told Mr. Nyembe about my problem with the Ethiopian visa and about my trip and the charity work that I was doing. As it turned out, Mr Nyembe was a good friend of the Ethiopian Ambassador to Kenya and he promised to sort the issue out – he also left me with his personal contact details. Within a few minutes I received a call to take my passport in to the Ethiopian Embassy together with a letter of support from the South African government. The next day the visa was issued. I was also invited to a formal tea the next morning with His Excellency Tony Msimanga, the High Commissioner and South Africa’s Ambassador to Kenya. Mr. Msimanga had been told about the charity work that I am doing and wanted to find out more about it. He also thanked me for being a ‘true South African’ and I, in turn, thanked him for his help in getting the Ethiopian visa and thanked him and his team for the excellent job that they were doing representing South Africa in Kenya. The South African embassy has been a great help and it makes me proud to be a (half) South African.

The next day 8/5 I headed north. The first section of the road, from Nairobi to Isiola is great. The road is in good condition and runs alongside the ridge of the Great Rift Valley offering some spectacular views. It then winds its way around Mount Kenya and its very fertile slopes, before dropping down into Isiola, the start of the “Road to Hell” section (Isiola to Moyale). This 600km section of road has often been referred to as the “Road to Hell” because of the very dry, desolate landscape it goes through, as well as the exceptionally bad road conditions that have taken many casualties over recent years. It is also a dangerous section of road that has been renowned to be patrolled by bandits seeking their fortunes from the vehicles that travel through.

My initial intention was to travel with a Canadian friend I had met in Jungle Junction – Scott Parker. Scott is a film editor who has taken a year off from his demanding career, and is touring the world on his BMW 650GS. Scott had been waiting for his Eritrean visa for two months and was expecting it to come through at any time, but unfortunately (this is Africa) he was told to wait a further four days (always next Tuesday) for his visa. I was already behind schedule, so decided to chance the trip on my own. In hindsight, this was probably not the greatest decision I ever made …

I reached Isiola at about 12h00 that day and thought I would try the 270km stretch to Marsabit – I mean, it is only 270km and I had 6 hours before dark! Easy! The first 80km from Isiola to Marsabit has recently been upgraded to tar (by none other than the Chinese – a pattern I have seen forming all the way up Africa) and I managed to make good time. But then the ‘fun’ starts! After 80km the tar stops rather abruptly and you are left to negotiate the dirt.

The first section starts off with huge washboard type corregations on the road that have been caused by the huge trucks that speed through this section. The corregations aren’t too bad as long as they stay in sync – once the front and back wheels get out-of-sync it feels like the bike is slamming on brakes as the front and back wheels start fighting against each other through the peaks and troughs. After a short while my arms started to ache from the constant hammering on the handlebars. The bike suspension also takes the first of many beatings. The corregations carry on for about 60km’s whilst I negotiated the smoothest route on the track. But then the thick sand starts. The bike seems to start doing its own thing in the sand and all you can do is hold on and hope that it doesn’t venture off on its own mission into the huge ditches next to the road. By 18h00 it was starting to get dark and I still had about 80km to go. I was averaging only about 20-30 km per hour! I had to decide whether to risk camping overnight or to head on in the dark. As the area is still riddled with bandits I had been warned against camping next to the road, so I decided to continue on. Needless to say, I eventually got to Marsabit at about 22h00, extremely tired and sore. That night I camped at the Henry Swiss campsite, alongside a group of Hollanders who were heading down to SA for the World Cup Soccer. They were stranded in Marsabit awaiting parts for their two Unimog overland trucks which both had broken their suspensions on the section of road I was to travel the following day – Marsabit to Moyale.

The next day I started off at about 7am hoping to get an early start. The first section of road is again corregated, but much easier riding than the soft sand. From Marsabit the road winds up through a few volcanic cone craters, before again dipping down onto a flat isolated section to Moyale. There is absolutely nothing here, but the scenery is amazing. Complete nothingness and dead quiet. I only passed one passenger truck on the whole 240km (11 hours) section from Marsabit to Moyale.

If I had thought that the previous day was bad, this section was just ridiculous!! The first section was covered in these small granite stones that were similar to riding the motorbike on marbles. The bike was sliding all over the road and what little strength I had left was on trying to keep the bike upright. To top it off the temperature was a whopping 39 degrees Celsius. The next section of road went into a thick powdery type dust that blew all over and was quite suffocating at times. I am sure it did not do too much good to the bikes air filter! Everything was covered in this thin dust and I had to stop every few minutes to clean my visor so that I could see.

Along the way I passed some young Turkana warriers and took the opportunity to take some photo's.

The last section of road was the one that had stopped most overland vehicles in their tracks. Recent rains had made this section almost impassable. The road is covered in thick mud that has been cut into very deep tracks – sometimes two meters deep into the road – by the large trucks. This makes this section almost impossible to pass in a normal 4×4 where the wheel clearance is just too low. Luckily for me, it hadn’t rained in the last three days and this section was beginning to dry up. I managed to negotiate my way around the majority of the deep tracks and in some areas had to make my way off-road through the surrounding bush to try and miss the deeper sections. A lot of time was spent next to my bike helping it along through muddy sections. Eventually at about 6pm I arrived at the border town of Moyale, totally broken and sore.

As I rode into Moyale there were a few locals that started clapping which I thought was a bit strange – at the time I thought it might be some welcoming custom here. I later found out that mine was one of the first vehicles, in the last three weeks, to have made it through the “Road to Hell” section because of the recent heavy rains they had experienced in the area. Also my bike got through in one piece which is truly remarkable – I met a South African couple in Moyale who had attempted the road on their new BMW 1200 Adventure’s, one of which had broken down in Marsabit with suspension problems (a common problem for these bikes – see “Long Way Down”). It cost them $US 1000 to have the bike trucked the 270km from Marsabit to Moyale!!!

That night I had planned to stay at the Kenya Wildlife Services campsite, but at a cost of $US 50 per night, with no electricity or warm water I told them where to go and stick it. I later found a dodgy guest house (that normally I would not let a dog stay in) for only $US 6 per night – I was too tired to look for anything better and before long I was fast asleep, whilst the bed bugs / mosquito’s / flea’s got too work.

The next day I got up early and headed to the border post, which was a few hundred meters away from the guest house. I managed to get through the Kenyan side in about five minutes. No issues. I also managed to sneak in this photo of a border official showing his skills in rifle management – it does not seem as if toes are important in the Kenyan army ha ha.

Jaag maar aan.

Tanzania

2010-04-14T15:54:00.007+02:00

I am always amazed by the sudden changes that seem to occur following ‘man-made’ border crossings. The scenery as well as the people seem to have a different flare about them. The people in Tanzania seem to be better off than the Malawians and they dress in bright coloured clothing. The countryside also starts getting very mountainous again which is always great to ride in.

I stopped in Mbeya to get some petrol and take some photos for my colleague Arthur Touw who was born there. Sorry Arthur, but Mbeya does not have much going for it (I will email the rest of the photos shortly). I also passed a place called Mafinga which I can only assume was named after the Tanzanian flatulence champion ‘Pull Mafinga’ :-) Also not much to ‘write home about’ in Mafinga. Although in Mafinga, I past a lodge called Aunty Tina’s, which I thought was quite a laugh, since I have an aunty called Tina. Aunty Tina, I didn’t realize that you had started a dodgy accommodation chain in Africa? :-)

That night I stayed in a place called the “Old Farmhouse”. The Old Farmhouse is a lodge that is set in a working farm, but is a must visit for travelers that are planning on going this route. The accommodation is truly first class and the staff makes the stay even more enjoyable. Towards the evening I went on the Sunset Walk – I managed to take some great photos of the sunset. Dinner was served in an old traditional mud-hut that has been converted into a restaurant. Very authentic and a truly first class menu. Great evening.

On 9/4 I started the long stretch towards Dar-es-Salaam. The first section of road is very mountainous, but then it hollows out into an area called the Boabab Valley. As you can imagine, the area is covered by millions of HUGE baobab tree’s (in Australia they are called ‘Boab’ trees). This low valley was very hot and my thermometer on my bike read 39 degrees C. Quite unpleasant riding in this heat but I suppose things will get worse in the Sahara.

I managed to take a great photo of a young Masai cattle herdsman. He charged me 500 shillings for the privilege. He was totally bewildered by my motorbike (I should have charged him 500 shillings for looking at the bike.

The next section of road was absolutely amazing. The road enters the Mikumi National Park and it was great riding through a game reserve on a motorbike. I saw a huge herd of elephant, zebra, giraffe, warthogs and various small buck. I managed to take some great photos of my motorbike with elephants in the background.

I also went past a huge thunder shower that was falling about 400m from the road – not a drop of rain fell on me but it made for a great photo. Talk about ‘isolated thunder shower’!

I got to Dar-es-Salaam (meaning ‘Haven of Peace’) later that evening after a long days riding. ‘Haven’ is probably the wrong word to describe Dar. Dar is a huge city that is really dusty, dirty and over-crowded with people in various stages of disease. I unfortunately arrived during peak traffic which was ridiculously congested. Pedestrians, cars, busses and animals seem to do as they please creating huge traffic jams that move nowhere. Drivers sit in their vehicles blowing their hooters and suffocating the streets with their unserviced vehicle’s exhaust fumes. It took me a further two hours to find a hotel (the Starlight Hotel) which was more affordable (only US$39 per night which is cheap for Dar). The hotel had rats the size of small cats running around the outside parking (which in the evening doubles as a restaurant) eating whatever scraps they could get. What a dump.

The next day I left my motorbike at the hotel :-( and took the early ferry to Zanzibar and was happy to get out of Dar. Zanzibar is a beautiful island with a fascinating history. From the 8th century, traders from Persia established settlements in Zanzibar; and by the 12th century, Zanzibar had become a powerful state exporting slaves, gold, ivory and wood, and importing spices, glassware and textiles. In the 16th century it came under Portuguese rule but the Portuguese were soon routed by the Omani Arabs and by the early 19th century the Sultan of Oman relocated his court here from the Persian gulf. In 1862, Zanzibar became independent of Oman and ruled under a British protectorate. It was only in 1963 that Zanzibar became independent and a year later signed a declaration of unity with Tanganyika (today Tanzania) forming a very fragile union. Zanzibar still have their own separate government to the mainland Tanzania, but for all intents and purposes is part of the Tanzanian republic.

Stone Town is fascinating and has some great old buildings and spice and slave tours which are really interesting. Later that day I met up with Nick and Jimmy, two guys in the English Army who were on R&R for two weeks before depolying to Canada for a training camp. Nick and Jimmy had met a German girl called Lydia who lived in Zanzibar and she offered us a lift up north to Nungwi. What a mistake! Lydia turned out to be absolutely bonkers and drove her car like a twit - she travelled at about 120km/h through the smallest, bumpiest streets and on three separate occasions came within inches of wiping out small school children next to the road. It wasnt long until Jimmy screamed at her to slow down, which didnt seem to help - she just got grumpy and drove faster. On one occasion she swerved right off the road to miss a chicken and we very nearly ended up going through someone's hut. To top it all off, she hit a speed bump (or more like a speed mountain) at pace and I think I left an imprint of my face on her car roof! Jeez, what a ride! I was relieved to get out of her car in one piece.

After some great private detective work in Nungwi, I managed to catch up with Olly and Huon (his real name is Colquhoun William Writhit Fleming :-) at the Jambo Brothers backpackers. Needless to say a good couple of beers were shared before we headed out to a beach party for further beers and shooters. Quite a night which resulted in the following day lying on the beach (fighting the flies) and suffering a hangover. Managed to take some great photo’s of the beach and the sunset. Zanzibar is really beautiful and is a must for anyone travelling through this area.

On 12/3 we went back to Stone Town and caught up with Mel for lunch. Mel is great fun – great seeing her again – we have all agreed to meet up in a week or so in Nairobi. Olly, Huon and I then headed back to Dar and back to the dodgy hotel – I was relieved to find my motorbike still all in one piece!!

The next day Olly and Huon left early to catch up with Jonny in Malindi, while I stayed in Dar to try and see if I could find a battery for my satellite phone. No luck though. I also spent a few hours trying to get a refund back from a dodgy ferry ticket dealer who had given Olly and Huon tickets for the wrong ferry (he gave them tickets for the cheaper ‘slow’ ferry that takes 8 hours to cross to Zanzibar, but charged them the price of the ‘fast’ ferry) – at first the ticket dealer refused to give me the refund but after I got a policeman involved I managed to get most of the money back for them.

Later that day I headed to Moshi, a great little town that sits on the foothills of Kilimanjaro. There are no words that can describe Kilimanjaro. The mountain is truly spectacular and seems to protrude out of the relatively flat african savanna and grows well above the clouds to a massive snow-capped height of 5895m. I climbed Kilimanjaro with my mate Marti Firer in 1997 and it was an absolutely amazing experience – the mountain takes five days to climb and the view from the top over the African plains is truly breathtaking. I will never forget seeing the curve of the earth and the lights of Nairobi and Dar-es-Salaam which are over 600km away. The temperature was -20degrees C at the top! I will always have this connection with Kilimanjaro and this trip through Africa would not have meant much if I had not had the opportunity to see this lovely mountain again. I arrived in Moshi as the sun was setting over Kilimanjaro and I will never ever forget the beautiful view that awaited me! The base of the mountain was not visible through the clouds, but peering high above the clouds was the ice-capped Uhuru peak. Breathtaking! Truly majestic!

On 15/4 I headed off to Kenya, passing Mount Meru along the way which was covered in cloud – so unfortunately I didn’t get to see it. The road to the Kenyan border is in a very poor state which was quite surprising seeing as it is the lifeline between Tanzania and Kenya.

The Kenyan border post was not that busy and I managed to get through without any problems. I didn’t need to pay for a Kenyan Visa (which was quite surprising as the Lonely Planet guide said that I would have to pay $US 50.00). I did, however, get conned into purchasing a carne extension ($US 20.00) as the carne is only apparently valid for 7 days in Kenya? I found out later that this is not true. Damn.

Jaag maar aan.

Malawi

2010-04-14T11:17:00.003+02:00

I headed from the border towards Blantyre. The roads in Malawi seem much better maintained and there are fewer pot holes. On the way to Blantyre I got stopped three times by policemen at informal road blocks. These police road blocks appear throughout Africa and I must have been stopped about ten times to date. There never seems to be any reason for the police stopping the traffic – most of the time they just want to know where I am coming from or where I am going to. Not one of the policemen has tried to get any bribe (yet).

At the last road block that I was stopped at, a very polite policeman asked my for my drivers license (which was the first time it had been asked for). He apologized for stopping me, but what made me laugh was that he kept calling me “my dear”. “I am sorry for delaying you, my dear”. “Please drive safely, my dear.” He must have heard it in some old colonial movie that he had been watching. Oh well,ha ha, at least he was trying to be polite.

I stayed the night at Doogles in Blantyre. Doogles is quite a loud little place with a huge bar where all the locals and contractors gather after work. The rooms were quite costly ($AUD 17.00 per night), but dirty and not particularly well maintained. Had a great Steak Burger and chips (and a few beers) for dinner whilst listening to doof-doof music, which seems to have taken over in Africa L. My initial intention was to stay here for two days, but I decided to head out the next day to Mulanje.

The trip to Mulanje was exceptionally beautiful. Mount Mulanje is absolutely massive!! It stands at 3000m high and looks more like a mountain range than a single mountain (it is actually an inselberg or ‘massive granite/bauxite rock’). It is also the highest peak in Malawi and is apparently a very difficult climb – not because of the height but rather because of the abrupt weather changes the mountain creates – a few hikers died recently trying to reach the summit. The mountain creates its own weather patterns in the area which makes the valleys ideal for tea plantations. The whole area looks really beautiful with the bright green tea plantations leading up to the mountain. For the most part during the day, the mountain is covered in clouds but in the early morning and late evenings there are some spectacular views of the mountain. Waterfalls seem to come out of nowhere and fall hundreds of metres to the ground. Truly amazing and something I will never forget.

That afternoon I took a ride out to the Lanjeri Tea plantations and sat in the old colonial tea gardens enjoying the local tea and doing my best Lord Ponsomby-Downs impression. Malawian tea is world renowned for its excellent quality and is sold mainly to the UK and Europe. Later that afternoon I found this quaint little pizza place which sold the most awesome Italian pizza’s! – quite a treat to enjoy good food in this part of the world! Had a few beers and watched the sun go down over the mountain – quite an amazing day!!

At Mulanje I stayed in the Mulanje View Motel which was very cheap ($AUD 3.70 / night). The place was rather run down but the staff made do with what little they had and tried to keep the place exceptionally clean - which made a good change to some of the ‘dumps’ I have stayed in.

The next day 24/3 I headed for a small town called Zomba. Until 1975, Zomba had been the capital of Malawi. It was originally set up as a mission station (in the 1870’s). The missionaries settled here because of the abundance of water and wildlife in the area. It is a really small town, but still has some good shopping / banking facilities. It also has the KAR (Kings African Rifles) Memorial for all those people that lost their lives in the World War I. (A lot of people do not realize that Africa played a large role in both World Wars – the first battle between the Germans and the British was at Karonga in the northern side of Lake Malawi).

Zomba is situated on the foothills of the Liphonde plateau and for lunch I took a 7km ride up to Sunbird Ku Chawe, which is an old colonial mansion that has been converted into a restaurant. The restaurant is situated right on the edge of the plateau and has some truly spectacular views over the plateau with Mount Mulanje in the distance. Absolutely stunning views with Zomba in the foreground!

After lunch at the restaurant I headed back down the plateau and then on to a town called Liwonde. Liwonde is situated on the Shire River (pronounced Shi-ree) which is the only river that drains Lake Malawi. In Dr. David Livingston’s writing’s in the 1850’s, he described this area as the area with the densest population of wildlife he had ever seen in Africa. By the end of the 19^th century almost all of the wildlife had been killed off by colonial hunters who flocked to Africa to hunt. Today the area has been revived and there are growing populations of elephants, hippo’s and rhino.

I decided to stay at the Hippoview Lodge which is beautifully located on the Shire River, with the Liwonde National Park on the opposite bank. The river is quite large and has a large population of resident hippo’s that can be viewed from the restaurant deck. I spent the afternoon fishing off the jetty and managed to catch some Chombe (the local fish) which I gave to the locals. I also gave some of my fishing gear (fishing line, hooks, sinkers, swivels etc) to some of the locals who were truly appreciative – apparently fishing gear is very hard to get and the locals have to make their own equipment out of nails (hooks), stones (sinkers), bamboo (fishing rods) and cotton (fishing line) – considering that these people fished for a living I felt rather ashamed that I had a larger collection of fishing equipment and I only do it as a hobby. Anyway, lets hope it helps them to feed their families.

Later that afternoon I had a few sundowners on the deck watching the hippo’s in the river. This is Africa!

Unfortunately Hippoview Lodge was extremely expensive and had exceptionally poor facilities (no electricity the day I arrived / cold showers) and poor service. When I asked for a red appletiser I got a bottle of red wine – when I told the waiter that I had asked for red appletiser he got all grumpy with me because he had already opened the bottle of red wine. I then asked for a double burger and got a single burger – the waiter told me the top and bottom of the bun meant that it was a double burger – I explained a double burger meant it had two burger patties in it – I then asked to see the manager who came about 45 min later! – by then I had had enough and in no uncertain terms told her what to do with the burger. The manager said that she had to charge me for the burger because I had already put tomato sauce on the chips and because of this, she could not serve it to other customers! What a joke. This is Africa I suppose. Anyway, I decided to leave that afternoon for Monkey Bay.

Monkey Bay was only about 150km from Liwonde. On the way I managed to ride through a swarm of bees which I can tell you is not fun – stop laughing! Got stung in the neck and on the arm which is not too bad considering it was quite a huge swarm. I also had to stop to clear the dead bees that had been splattered all over my visor. I suppose that is what you get if you decide to travel on a motorbike.

Monkey Bay is situated on the southern shores of Lake Malawi. Lake Malawi is the seventh largest lake in the world and is one of the deepest. It also offers absolutely crystal clear waters and with over 500 fish species is one of the most favored freshwater diving /snorkeling sites in the world. The lake was originally named Lake Nyasa – legend has it that David Livingston asked the locals what the lake was called and they said it was Nyasa (which means “lake” in Chichewa, the local language) – so it is actually called Lake Lake.

Lake Malawi is absolutely spectacular – the water is a deep blue colour and there is also the largest population of fish eagles in the world here. Sunsets are amazing!

I met this Israeli guy called Daniel. Daniel is riding his bicycle up from South Africa to Cairo!! Yup, his bicycle!! His trip makes mine look ridiculously simple. What a legend guy though. I have never heard a guy who can talk so much – maybe its because he doesn’t get anyone to talk to for the hours and hours that he is on his bicycle each day! I walked with him into town for dinner – we had rice, beans and beef. We ended up having a couple of beers with the restaurant owner Joseph and I think we managed to solve all the political problems of Malawi and the Middle East that evening. Great evening with good company.

I decided that I need to get rid of some of the bike load. Seeing that I will probably not require my fishing equipment further up on the trip I decided to give it away to a local fisherman. I met up with a local fisherman who still fished with a fishing rod (bamboo) and line (as opposed to using a net which most of the locals seem to do . On the day I met him he had caught 7 rather big Chombe and I was quite impressed with his commitment – he had been fishing since 4am that morning. When I saw him later that day, I showed him my fishing equipment and showed him how to use it - he had never seen a proper fishing rod and reel before! When I told him that he could have it all, at first he thought I was joking and then he dropped to his knees and said thank-you! I think he was on the verge of tears! He couldn’t have been more thankful. He later came back with his wife and son to say thank-you again. The next day I found him on the beach practicing his casting on the beach and showing off his new fishing equipment to his friends. He had already caught three fish with it – more than I have ever caught with it. Good to see it being put to good use!

The next day I headed to Cape Maclear about 30kms from Monkey Bay. Cape Maclear is absolutely stunning and is one of only a few fresh water world heritage sites. Cape Maclear was the site of the very first mission station in Malawi, but was abandoned after 15 years (1870 – 1885) as too many of the people where dying of malaria. At the time, they thought that malaria was caused by the “Fever tree’s” and so the mission station was moved to Livingstonia which is higher up on the Nyika Plateau (As it turns out both mosquito’s and Fever trees do not live in higher area’s – it was only decades later that malaria was found to be spread by mosquito’s and not the innocent Fever trees.)

At Cape Maclear, I stayed at Mgoza Lodge which was absolutely fantastic. The lodge is situated under these huge tree’s and, since I had a week to spare before Kobles and Bonky arrived on their motorbikes, I spent quite a few hours lying in the shade on the hammocks. Alan and Janet run the lodge and Alan was kind enough to let me stay in one of the lodge suite’s for a much discounted rate. Thanks again Alan!

On the first day at Cape Maclear, I took a walk up to the Missionary Graveyard where the graves of five missionaries still exists (Dr. William Black, Captain G. Benzie, John Gunn, Shadrek Ngunana, Shadrek Mackey). Dr. Black died at the age of only 31 (1846 – 1877) from malaria!

I later headed up the Cape Maclear mountain to take some photos. What a climb – it was soooo hot - but the view from the top was well worth it. I got some really great photos overlooking Lake Malawi, the islands, and Cape Maclear.

The next day Mel, Olly (aka “Doos” – private joke), Huon and Jonny arrived (the mates that I had met in Vilunculos). They are great guys and are great to be around. Evenings were spent playing ridiculous drinking / card games and generally having a laugh.

The one day we decided to take kayaks out to the island, which was about 1.2km off-shore. There were only two (2-seater) kayaks and five of us, so one of us would have to swim. Olly offered to do the swim but after only about 30m he decided that he would rather be in the kayak – it probably didn’t help that I was telling him about the crocodiles that had recently been caught in the area. Anyway, I ended up having to do the swim – well, it was more like being pulled by Olly and Mel in the kayak across the water – although I like to think that I was pushing the kayak. Anyway, we eventually got there – the fish life around the island was truly spectacular! There were millions of little colourful fish swimming around and it was like swimming in an aquarium! Amazing day!

On 3/4 I said cheers to Jonny, Olly, Huon and Mel and headed down to Club Makakola (only 50km away) to meet up with Bonky’s family (Mr Kitchen Curtain, Old Queen, Doug, Mandy, Jason and Sarah-Jane) who were on holiday there. It was really good to see them again. I spent the day dragging / throwing Jason and Sarah-Jane (Bonky’s nephew and niece) around the swimming pool. I stayed the Nkopola Lodge campsite which was a nightmare – as it was Easter they had employed a DJ to entertain the guests. The DJ started his music at 10am and only finished the next morning at 2am – he was also intent on playing his music as loud as the speakers could handle!! So much for relaxing over the Easter weekend – to top it all off, he was playing to a crowd of three on the dance-floor. What a noise! There is only so much African / doof-doof music I can take. I don’t think I was too popular the next day when I put a complaint in to the lodge management.

The next day Kobles and Bonky arrived after a hectic three day ride from South Africa to meet up with me. Kobles and Bonky are legends!!! Great to see such good mates in the middle of Africa.

I need to give a special mention here to Bonky. The day before his departure from Durban to come up and join me he had failed his motorbike license. Undeterred, he still rode his motorbike up to Malawi (and back) to visit me. He was not once asked for his license! A sterling piece of work from a great friend!!! Needless to say, the first evening was spent enjoying a few beers. The next day was spent at the pool and having dinner with Mrs. King(Old Queen) at Club Makokola who will shortly be celebrating her 60th birthday! Happy Birthday Mrs. King.

On 5/4 we headed up to Lilongwe to spend the night at Doug and Mandy’s mansion. The ride to Lilongwe turned out to be quite eventful. On the way there I was riding behind Kobles when a bird decided to try and see if it could fit through the spokes of his front wheel whilst he was travelling at about 120km/h. As you can imagine, the bird came off second best and exploded into a puff of feathers. Quite a spectacle. The road to Lilongwe is due west and as the sun began to set, there were stages when the glare created meant that I could not see the road. At one stage whilst on an uphill, I had to slow down because I could not see a thing. The taxi driver behind me thought it was his cue to overtake (on a blind rise). When the taxi was halfway past, another car came over the hill from the opposite direction. The taxi driver swerved into my lane, which meant that I had to career off into the grass next to the road. A few minutes later I caught up to the taxi again, and as I overtook him I spent a good 20 seconds screaming at him through his window, while backing up my mutterings with the only single-fingered sign language I know – I think he got the message.
Doug and Mandy have this huge home (with massive gardens) in Lilongwe. The house is maintained by a team of staff (a cook, a maid, two gardeners and three security guards) – good old colonial Africa at its best! It was great to sleep in a comfortable bed again and get some washing done. Thanks Doug and Mandy for everything – very, very, very much appreciated.

Kobles, Bonky and I then headed up to Nkhata Bay. The ride to Nkhata Bay was great! The roads were good, hilly and windy which made for some good riding.

At Nkhata Bay we stayed at Njaya Lodge which was truly spectacular. The room that they gave us was literally on the lake and the views over the lake were amazing. That evening we had dinner and a few beers at the Papaya and then headed to Myorka Lodge for a few more beers. At Myorka Lodge we met the coolest bloke ever – he was a very old man (almost extinct) who sold chocolates in his cowboy outfit?? We decided to call him the ‘Chocolate Cowboy’ which he did not enjoy seeing that he was the chief (or family of the chief or something) of the village. We also met up with a guy called Happy Coconut - ha ha - I think I am going to call my son that!

The next day we had breakfast at Njaya Lodge whilst watching this huge rainstorm forming over the far end of the lake. We managed to take some great pictures.

In the afternoon we took a boat cruise on the lake. First we went to take some photos of the fish eagles. The captain of the boat threw fish out into the lake and the eagles come in to feed. Truly amazing. We managed to take some great photos of the huge fish eagles swooping down over the water to get their fish.

We then spent a few hours snorkeling which was great. The fish here are really colourful!! Underwater there were some amazing little caves and tunnels which we were daring each other to swim through ha ha. We also hooked up with Melody again who was on another boat cruise. Melody joined up with us and we went out to dinner in town and ended up playing pool and provoking the Chocolate Cowboy at Myorka Lodge.

Woke up early the next morning as we had to part our separate ways – Bonky and Kobles start their long trek home through Mozambique (the way that I had come) and I needed to start heading up north. It was sad to see Kobles and Bonky go – we had a really great time and they are such good mates. Thanks for joining me guys!!! Legends!!!

That day I headed up to Karonga which is on the northern shores of Lake Malawi. The road to Karonga climbed high up into the mountains and I managed to take some amazing photos of the lake from the road. Travelling was slow as I was stopping every 20 minutes to take photos – the views around every corner seemed to get better and better. Along the way I saw a black snake (about 2m long – black mamba??) crossing the road – when the snake realized that he would probably not be able to make it across the road in time it went into a defensive position and took a strike at the motorbike – luckily it missed as I had already sped past! Scary.

On the way to Karonga, I decided to take a detour to the town of Livingstonia which is where the second missionary station was set up in the 1890’s – it had been moved from Cape Maclear as too many people where dying of malaria. The map that I have shows the road to be a ‘main road’. As you can see from the photograph it is not what I would call a ‘main’ road. The road winds up the mountain and climbs over 1000m in 15km. The road is also in a tremendously poor state and disintegrates to nothing more than a rocky path. In hindsight I should never have taken that road. Not a very pleasant ride and the bike took a hammering. From Livingstonia, the view is absolutely amazing though. Livingstonia still has the old mission church which is still operational. I spent some time there taking photos. The original stained glass windows depict a scene of David Livingston meeting the locals – quite beautiful.

Livingstonia also has a museum that shows the early missionary days. There are some great photos of the early missionaries as well as writings and sermons of the original missionaries. To top it all off, it also houses copies of some of the letters from David Livingston to his family back in Scotland.

The view from Livingtonia over Lake Malawi is truly spectacular!

Somewhere in Livingstonia, I lost my riding gloves which is quite annoying – I will have to buy another pair somewhere.

That night I stayed at the Safari Lodge Annex in Karonga. Very basic. Not great and quite expensive.

I had been thinking of taking a ferry up Lake Tanganyika and heading from there through Rwanda, Uganda and then in to Kenya. I found out from other backpackers that for some reason the ferry was running a few days late due to maintenance (I didn’t know they did that in Africa). As I was already behind schedule I decided to continue along my planned route i.e. to Dar-es-Salaam / Arusha / Nairobi and then possibly in to Uganda (depending on how the visa applications go in Nairobi).

The next day I headed off towards the Tanzanian border. The border crossing went pretty quickly. The Tanzanian visa cost me US$ 50.00 and the third-party insurance cost me US$100 but apparently covers all the rest of the countries up to Egypt.

Jaag maar aan.

Mozambique

2010-03-19T12:27:00.038+02:00

No issues again at the Swaziland/South Africa border – the officials were more interested in my motorbike than in checking any of the paperwork. One border official even asked if I could take him into town to buy some bread – unfortunately I had to turn him down because I was ‘late for a meeting in Maputo’.

Maputo, the capital city of Mozambique, is one of the strangest cities I have ever been to! The main road through the city doubles as the local market with informal markets and stalls packed along the street. The main street is shared between cars, bakkies (utes), lorries (trucks), taxi’s, buses , donkey carts, pedestrians, animals and basically anything that wants to be there. There seems to be no order in traffic flow and traffic laws are a thing of the past. It took me about two hours to get through Maputo with my finger constantly on the hooter. Frustrating, but that is Africa I suppose.

After lunch at Manhica I headed to Bilene, my first stopover in Mozambique. The road to Bilene was great and I managed to make Bilene in good time.

I was pleasantly surprised by Bilene. The town is really scenic and clean. BiIene is situated around a lagoon and is a great fishing spot. The beach is lined with palm tree’s and the sea is really calm, clean and warm. I am surprised that this place isn’t frequented more by the South African tourists. I spent my first three nights camping at the Palmeira Campsite with the Coconut Bar/Restaurant as my main port of call. The barman of Coconuts was a huge James Blunt fan and on one count he managed to play “Goodbye my lover” an amazing seven times in a row before I spoilt his fun and asked him to change the CD.

(My tent is a lot smaller than I thought it would be – maybe I should have checked it out before I bought it. But I must admit it is really strong, sturdy and waterproof which I found out during a rainstorm on the last night)

On 14/3 I woke up early, packed up the campsite and began my trek north to Tofo. It started raining just after I got on the bike and didn’t stop for about two hours. I was soaked! Just after Xai Xai the roads started to deteriorate. (I remember driving this route about ten years ago and the road was a good condition (paved) road all the way to Tofo! I am surprised how quickly it has deteriorated). Soon after Xai Xai the road became non-existent. The track that was left was just thick sand that had been churned into mud by the big trucks that were intent on maintaining the speed they would have done if there was a paved road. Quite scary. The motorbike with its heavy load is very unstable in the thick sand – so I think I am going to have to do some serious load shedding before I hit the really bad roads in northern Kenya, Ethiopia and Sudan. I eventually got to Tofo at about 16h00 – 400km in 8 hours! By the time I got to Tofo I was absolutely stuffed!!!

Tofo has long been legendary on the holiday-makers circuits with its azure waters, fascinating reefs, sweeping white beaches, rolling breakers, and a perpetual party-time atmosphere.
I had been recommended to stay at Aquatica Lodge, but for some reason the guard would not let me in the front gate – he couldn’t understand English and I can’t understand Portuguese so we ended up just shouting at each other. I wasn’t in the mood for his nonsense so continued on to the lodge next door called Bamboozi (www.bamboozibeachlodge.com). (I still have no idea why he would not let me in – maybe the lodge was full? Who knows.)

Bamboozi ended up being a ‘blessing in the skies’ (Dad :-). Bamboozi is a backpacker place with a great dive school and bar/restaurant. The bar/restaurant is high up in the dunes and has an absolutely amazing view over the sea. I stayed in a two sleeper cabin for 4 nights at $AU 12.00 per night!! Spent the evening on the restaurant deck eating a seafood dinner ($AUD 4.00) of calamari, prawns, crab and lobster and watching the sun go down over a couple of beers. It didn’t take me long to forget about the hectic days ride!

The next three days I spent fishing off the beach and relaxing in the Mozambican sun. I also met up with Big Paul, Paul the Pom, Matty Matt, Jay, Freda and Pierre who work at the dive school and I managed to do four dives with them. They are a great bunch of guys and dive these reefs for a living – what a cool job!! They are really passionate about what they do which is so great to see. Over the three days we dived ‘Salon’, ‘Manta Reef’,’ Marble Arch’ and ‘Giants Castle ‘. Spectacular diving – something I will never forget. Thanks guys!

Tofo is one of the top dive sites in the world and is by far one of the best sites I have dived in. I am amazed by the underwater beauty of this region – we have seen four HUGE manta rays, devil rays, moray eels, potato bass and loads of different coral fish. Whale sharks, great white sharks, dolphins and turtles also often patrol these waters.

On Wednesdays at Bamboozi is the ‘all you can eat pizza’ evening which turns into a huge party session. Matt, Nancy and I ended up at Fatima’s Nest drinking shooters and far too many beers. Some gay guy and a prostitute were having a fight over Matt. Ha ha dodgy place! Matt's you legend.

Woke up early on Thursday 18/3 to head up to Vilanculos. All I can say is that it is not fun riding a motorbike in the hot sun with a hangover. Along the way I crossed the Tropic Of Capricorn which is a bit of a milestone. Got to Vilaculos at about 15h00 and booked into the Zombie Cucumber Backpackers. Great spot. Had dinner with Tim and Stef, an English couple who I met up with at the backpackers. They have spent the last 18 months touring New Zealand, Australia, Asia, India and Africa. They have some great stories to share - Clucky the chicken – what a laugh. We ended up playing drinking games with some other poms back at the backpackers. Time for some serious detox.

Vilanculos is an amazing little town. It is the doorway to the Bazaruto Archipelago which is renowned for spectacular diving and fishing. The main industry here is obviously fishing and every morning the fishing dhows head out to sea. Quite spectacular. The whole town seems to gather every evening when the fishing boats return. They seem to have a great laugh at the "puffer fish" that turn themselves into the size of soccer balls from fright.

I stayed in Vilunculos (Zombie Cucumber) for three days and I spent most of the time relaxing, walking around the markets and taking walks down the beach with Tim and Stef. Tim and I have developed a knack of finding pubs ha ha. We also met up with Olly, Huon (the thinnest guy in the world!!) and Jonny a great bunch of guys who have just finished school in the UK and are heading up to Kenya. Also met Melody, a great lady from Toronto (Canada) who is also heading up to Egypt. I am sure that I will meet up with them all again along the way. It wasn’t long before the drinking games came out and some late evenings were enjoyed playing “Never have I ever”, “Fives” and “Circle of Fire”. Great fun.

We also had the privilege of meeting up with appropriately named T-Dog (Tick Dog) who decided to become our tour-guide / security guard whilst in Vilunculos. He walked with us everywhere and seemed to know the area like the back of his paw. He even walked with us to Bazaruto Dive Centre – some 5km’s away. We took a taxi back to town and he wasn’t allowed in the taxi – so I hope he is okay? Knowing T-dog, I am sure he made it back to the backpackers okay. We are not convinced he even has an owner – nobody seemed to know who he belonged to – anyway he looked fairly healthy so I think he manages okay by himself.

Decided to start the big push up to Malawi on 21/3. There has been some heavy rains recently in northern Mozambique, so I am changing my route slightly and cutting inland to Chimoio and then up to Tete and into Malawi. My first stop-over was a place called Silvia’s just outside Chimoio. Sylvia’s has a great swimming pool with a huge slide going into it. This must be the local attraction because there were about 50 kids swimming in the pool, on the Sunday afternoon, when I got there. Mozambique’s version of Disneyland? I was given a room right next to the pool L what a noise!! Nothing like screaming kids when you are trying to relax and get some sleep. The lodge’s were great – clean, comfy and hot water!

Woke up early on 22/3 with the aim of getting up to Tete which is about a 400km distance. I have heard some horror stories of this road so I decided to set off early. The road turned out to be a really great road – I assume that all the road works have recently finished because the road was in fairly good condition i.e. fewer potholes.

The road to Tete was great – it travels along the foothills of the Nyanga Mountain Range which is really beautiful. There are some huge granite mountains which seem really out of place here – they stick out of the ground and are hundreds of metres high – as if “the Gods” were throwing huge stones at the earth. The largest of these is Mount Gorongoza which is absolutely massive. The photo just does not do it justice – unfortunately the clouds had come in and covered it so I couldn’t really get any good camera shots.

My first petrol stop and the only one before Tete was at a town called Catandica. Unfortunately, when I got there, the petrol station had run out of petrol L. There was no chance I would get to Tete without getting some petrol. I managed to find a guy who sold me some petrol from a dodgy can at a ridiculous price of $AUD 17.00 for 10 litres. I had no idea of the quality of the petrol, but had no option but to risk it. As it turns out the petrol was fine. To top it off, the guy managed to spill petrol all over the bike while he was trying to pour it from his 25 litre drum into my tank. I was not happy!

Along the way I crossed the Pungue River and saw the remnants of the old Pungue River bridge. This bridge has quite a history to it as it was blown up by the Rhodesian Army in the 1970’s during the Rhodesian bush war. They had received intelligence that the “terrorists ” were using the bridge to get down to the Rhodesian border and cross into Rhodesia – so it was blown up and caused a huge uproar from the Mozambican government that were supporting Robert Mugabe.

I also crossed the Cahorra Bassa overhead line, which may interest some of the electrical engineers. The shape of the pilon is very strange, and for good reason. This particular line is one of the longest DC power lines in the world and connects the Cahorra Bassa hydroelectric power station to somewhere just east of Johannesburg. It then gets converted to AC and distributed across Africa. Quite an electrical phenomenon.

At about 12hoo I crossed the Zambezi River and headed into Tete. The Zambezi River is absolutely massive! There is a huge bridge crossing the river in Tete and I will not be surprised if the bridge collapses soon – you can hear the bridge taking strain every time a big truck goes over it and there are some huge cracks between the separate concrete sections on the bridge. I was relieved to get off the bridge!!

As I had made good time, I decided to refuel in Tete, get some lunch, and head up to Blantyre (Malawi), which was about 260 km away. The road was fairly good and I got to the Mozambique / Malawi border post in good time. Again, I had no problems at the border post, although I did have to show the border official how to fill out the “Carne de Passage” for the motorbike. Again, the motorbike was crowded by people wanting to have a look, wanting to sell me something or wanting to exchange money. It is really disconcerting having to leave all my belongings on the motorbike while I go into the customs office to fill out all the paperwork. Anyway, I did manage to exchange all my leftover Mozambican metcais for Malawi kwatcha at a really good rate.

Jaag maar aan.

Swaziland

2010-03-11T12:21:00.003+02:00

Left Johannesburg at last! The first part of the trip is through the coal mining area’s of Witbank and Middelburg. Nothing too exiting. The actual holiday felt like it begun once I started getting into the eastern Transvaal, renowned for the highlands and their spectacular scenery. Green grassy hills flowing into each other, which makes quite a change to the Johannesburg metropolitan area. I stopped for lunch at Millies Trout farm, which is a sort of South African tradition on this route. The food at Millies is awesome – nothing like smoked trout to get the afternoon started.

I got to the Swaziland border post at about 15h00. I forgot that South Africans now need passports to get into Swaziland so I had to dig through all my luggage to try and find my passport which I had packed at the bottom of one of my panniers. Still lots to learn about sensible packing. Managed to get through the border fairly quickly without any major hassles. I had planned to spend the night at the Royal Swazi Hotel, but somehow managed to miss the off-ramp, so I continued on to a small town called Manzini.

On the way to Manzini , I passed the Royal Residence where the King of Swaziland lives with his 28 wives – yes, 28 wives - what a legend! Manzini is a traditional African town in the true sense of the word – dirty, dusty and with cattle walking through the main street?? That night I stayed at the Manzini Lodge which was in a bit of a dodgy area but was clean and secure. I had dinner and some beers at Marco’s Restaurant while a crowd gathered around my motorbike to discuss this ‘new technology’ of two wheeled vehicles with motor’s … something that I will have to get used to I suppose.

Woke up early the next morning and headed to the Swaziland/Mozambique border. Along the way I had to negotiate a few herds of cattle and goats that were intent on crossing the road just as I rode up to them. Dangerous!

Jaag maar aan.

South Africa

2010-03-10T06:17:00.004+02:00

Sorry about the delay and no, I haven't disappeared off the face of the earth (yet) :-) My bike arrived safely in Johannesburg and the team from U-bag got it easily cleared through customs. Kobles and I managed to put it back together again quite easily. Nothing stolen/scratched/damaged/broken - in fact it all went well - no mess, no fuss. Good start to the trip.

Been a hectic couple of days in Johannesburg doing some last minute organising, whilst awaiting my visa's to come through. I have managed to organise my Egyptian Visa, but not yet got my Sudanese one, which is the one I am a bit concerned about. It apparently takes up to 10 working days to get the Sudanese visa from the embassy in Pretoria - I have heard it is a lot quicker from other Sudanese embassies further up in Africa so I will try and get it from either Nairobi (Kenya) or Addis Ababba (Ethiopia).

Apart from sorting visa's out, I have spent the majority of my time getting the bike ready. I met up with Ray Muller from Cybertech (Tours for Africa) and he has been an endless source of help!! Thanks Ray, Donovan and the rest of the team from Cybertech. The information that you have shared and your immense knowledge of Africa has been a great help. Ray has also helped me get my bike up to "African terrain standards" - I have added on "ultra heavy duty front springs", "ultra heavy duty tubes", jump start connection point, raised handle-bars, rewired the power supply and spot lights, added a master cylinder protection cover, welded/strengthened the panniers, removed the side stand switch etc etc etc ... it cost quite a bit of money (a further R21,000) but I am a lot more confident that the bike will make it! It is me I am more worried about ha ha .. Ayway, lets hope we both last :-)

I spent last weekend with my dad in Klerksdorp which was great! Good to see the old man again. Was great to get out of the hussle and bussle of Johannesburg for a while and to relax and enjoy the company of family and friends in Klerksdorp. Dad is obviously concerned about me doing the trip, but thats what dads are for I suppose.

I saw this sign on the way between Klerksdorp and Johannesburg. The sign is asking people to stay in South Africa and help to build the nation. It is the first sign I have seen of the sort, but I like the enthusiasm. Since 1994 almost 5 million educated people have left South Africa for overseas countries (mainly the UK, Canada and Australia) in an attempt to try and better their lives (me being one of them). To be honest, for an educated person in South Africa there is very little that beats the lifestyle here! Unfortunately South Africa has a very large crime problem (and other problems) that the government is failing to address. Unless there are some drastic improvements in the crime rates in this country, the educated (tax-payers) will continue to leave in droves - simple as that! ... and to be honest, I dont have much faith in the current government.

Well today I am back in the Johannesburg AMEC office in Bryanston. Kathy Bam has organised a "send-off" tea for me, with a few photos with the AMEC staff here in Johannesburg. Everyone in this office (and especially Kathy) have been absolutely great and very supportive. Makes me proud to work for AMEC. Thank you AMEC (Johannesburg)!

Also, thanks to all my family, friends and colleagues in Johannesburg for your guidance and assistance over the past few days. Much appreciated!

I start off tomorrow on my great trek through Africa. First stop is the Kingdom of Swaziland, for a day, before heading into Mozambique. I am not sure when next I will find an internet cafe, but it will hopefully be quite soon. Keep in touch ...

Jaag maar aan

Bok

Crating the bike

2010-02-19T13:51:00.004+02:00

Spent the day today at Causeway KTM getting the bike crated-up for the big trip over to Africa. Yup, the time has finally arrived to send the bike off! I have decided to fly the bike across rather than ship it - just so that I know it will be there when I get to Johannesburg - well, hopefully anyway.

(I have read a few posts on the internet where motorbike expeditions have had to be abandoned because the riders pitch up at the airport only to find that their motorbikes are still weeks away, stuck in a ship container somewhere.)

Air freight is probably more expensive than shipping, but much more reliable and does'nt include costly seaport taxes.

I must admit it has been a rather strange day - spent the day watching the bike getting stripped after weeks of me trying to put it all together. Quite frustrating. Lets hope I remember how to put it all back together when I get to Johannesburg :-)

Causeway KTM have been great - the motorbike crate cost me only a crate of beer!
Thanks Ram, Dave, Brock and Brendan!!

Costs:
Crated by: Causeway KTM ($200 labour)
Trucking to Airport: Motorcycle Movers ($80)
Air Freight service (Perth to Jhb): Export Air ($3025 on SAA)
CdP Clearance Company in Jhb: U-bag (R1000)

A rollercoaster of thoughts ...

2010-02-15T11:11:00.014+02:00

What a couple of weeks.It has definately had its ups and downs ..

When I initially had the idea to do this trip (about two years ago), there was always plenty of time to plan and organize. Now time is about to run out and far too quickly! Still lots to do, but I will have to leave some of it for South Africa or to do along the way. Two more weeks of work and then a four (or five?) month break. I am starting to get quite excited - or wait! No! Maybe "worried" , "stressed" or “scared” are more appropriate words - you see, I have never been on a "holiday" for this long before and not quite sure how I will handle it. To be honest, I am not totally convinced that I know how to have a proper holiday anymore. When last did you live your own life, not driven by the urge to work and continue to grow the nest egg? And grow it for who? Simply put: No Work = No Income = Less comfortable lifestyle. So what part of that is 'holiday'? But hey, what’s wrong with that? Enough of those creature comforts ... who needs them anyway ... if half the world manages to live without them, I am sure that I can do it for a few months.

Okay, now I am starting to feel bad. Why am I worrying about ridiculous things like 'temporary loss of income' when there are others far worse off than I will ever be? What is it that makes the need for money so addictive? Will we ever have enough? Is there ever a time when we decide to stop because we have enough? Nah, I didn’t think so. Does'nt that make it an addiction? Is this ‘democracy’ and our ‘strive for more’ all it is really cracked up to be? Are we really better off than Africa or are we also trapped in our own downward spiral (addicted to money)?

To be honest there are far more serious things to be worried about on this trip - what about the motorbike that I have chosen as my weapon to attack this trip with? .. African diseases? .. wild animals? .. political instability in Africa? .. the bad condition of African roads .. trigger happy Africans? .. .. the lack of medicines, petrol, drinkable water etc ? or the fact that Sudan (yes, remember the Darfur region) will be having their first election in 20 years at the same time that I am travelling through? .. or what about the fact that I will be on my own for the majority of the trip? Hey, what happens if I come off my motorbike, get badly injured, and there is no-one around for miles to help me?

... well, I have thought about it all!

To be honest I have got a lot of support from family and friends, but every now and again the "sensible ones" (and sometimes thats me included) have to spoil the dream with these thoughts. Is it concern? Is it jealousy? Who knows? Who cares!

All I can say is that this is what I have chosen to do! Probably not the smartest thing I've done, but who cares. If you don’t live your life then maybe you don’t deserve to have it. Remember, you will be dead for a very long time - so live your life while you can!

.. and if, through the charity, I/we can help other people live their lives to the best of their abilities, then why the hell not?

Here's to life changing experiences! Just do it.

Only two weeks to go ... and I cant wait!

Jaag maar aan

One Month to Go

2010-01-26T05:15:00.000+02:00

So, one month to go! So much still to organise.

On 26 February 2010 I am flying to Johannesburg to try and attemp a Trans-Africa motorbike trip. Most of the trip will be solo, but some South African mates may join for some of the way - they have still not yet decided :-) I have wanted to do this trip for ages. In my opinion Africa is a 'must see' continent with sooo much to offer. I was born in Rhodesia and grew up in South Africa, so Africa is in my blood. For the past five years I have been living in Perth, Australia and really love Australia but have had this constant urge to return to Africa and try and document my Africa travels through this website and with plenty of photos. So I hope you enjoy ...

Things I am busy with:

Carne-de-Passage for the motorbike
Getting the bike ready
Crating the bike
Transporting the bike from Perth to Johannesburg (air freight)
Tool kits and bike spares
Camping gear (light weight)
Motorbike safety clothing
First Aid Equipment
Flights (for me) from Perth to Johannesburg
Travel Insurance
Sorting out money issues
Communications - Travel Sim

Will be in Johannesburg for a week or two before I set off - I am hoping to sort some visa issues out from there. (The majority of visa's can be purchased at the border posts - the only one I am really worried about is the Sudan visa. )

Decided to rent my home out for a few months so that is the biggest headache at the moment. Also need to organise furnature storage.

Cant wait to just get going!! Enough of all this organising nonsense ha ha

Dangers, Annoyances and Frustrations

2009-08-29T13:07:00.006+02:00

No trip through a third world continent comes without its problems. Below are a few of the many frustrations that I experienced along the way. Some I have already mentioned in my blog’s, but here are some others. At the time these were rather annoying, but they all added to the experience of the trip …

In no particular order:

White skin = money: Probably the most frustrating thing about travelling throughout Africa is the fact that white people are associated with money. This I found to be very, very disappointing! I understand where this comes from as it is probably a by-product of past colonial times. But it annoys me that I am seen as a money bag and that little respect is shown for the actual person inside. Not all white people are rich, just as not all black people are poor. Stereotypes! The fact that I was associated with money meant that I was constantly hounded by beggars, street pedlars and shop owners which was very frustrating.

Spitting: Mainly in the Arab countries there is this custom of spitting anywhere and at any time. Quite disgusting. Much time was spent trying to navigate through the streets whilst trying my best to avoid spit puddles.

Left Hand: It is considered very bad manners to eat food in the Arab countries with your left hand. Left hands are used for toilet duties here! This doesn’t stop them preparing food with their left hands though. Strange!

Washing utensils: I have noticed that in washing kitchen utensils, dish washing liquid is seldom used in Africa. It is a luxury and is considered way too expensive for its purpose. Instead water is used for washing (often just dirty river water). Washing cloths, rags, scourers or drying towels are also seldom used – instead the hands or sand is used to grind away the dirt.

Ethiopian charges and taxes: All payments in Ethiopia attract a further 25% charge on top of any bill received. This is made up of a 10% service charge and a 15% tax. The 10% service charge is also included on payments where no actual service has been provided e.g. doing your own grocery shopping or buying fruit from a market. The payment of a service charge does not mean that tips are not expected at restaurants etc.

Ethiopian Banks: There are many ATM’s in Ethiopia and many of them have both Visa and Mastercard facilities for international monetary transactions. However, I noticed that during banking hours, the ATM’s are often turned off / out-of-service – which means that customers have to enter the bank to draw money. For entering the bank, the bank charges a 2.5 – 5% charge on the value of the withdrawals!! This is theft!

Sudanese Banks: Although ATM’s can be found in the majority of the larger cities in Sudan, they do not accept any foreign ATM cards (Not Visa, Master Card, American Express, Maestro, Cash Cards, Debit Cards, Cash Passports – nothing!). I doubt whether Travellers Cheques will be of any use in Sudan (I never tried)? In addition, internationally accepted credit cards cannot be used to make a cash advance in the banks. Also, very few businesses accept credit card payments. The only way to get Sudanese pounds as a tourist is to exchange USD’s or Euro’s.

Knocking on doors: In Ethiopia I stayed at a number of guesthouses, motels and hotels. When someone knocks on your room door, they don’t knock once or twice and wait for you to answer the door like we would. Instead they continue to knock on the door until you answer it. If you ask “who is it?” there is no response from the knocker – they won’t talk to you unless they can see you. Bloody annoying.

Lights on the bike: Most modern motorbikes these days are legally obliged to travel with their headlights on – even during the day. In fact most modern motorbikes do not have an off-button for the headlights i.e. as soon as the bike is started the headlight is automatically switched on. My bike is one of these. As there are very few (modern) motorbikes in Africa very few people are aware of this. As a result every person and vehicle I pass feels that it is their duty to inform me that I am riding with my lights on. Very annoying! I suppose that the mere fact that they are trying to tell me that my lights are on, shows that they have seen me – which is the whole idea, isn’t it? This got particularly worse the further up Africa I got, so I ended up just pulling the fuse out for the main headlight and riding with it off.

“Cold” drinks: From Malawi north, every time I asked for a drink, whether it was a soft drink or a beer, I was asked if I wanted it served cold?? Is there any other way to have a ‘cold’ drink or beer? The last think I want on a hot day is a hot or warm drink / beer. I was tempted to ask them to please heat my beer up in the kettle ha ha.

‘Where are you going?’: Throughout Africa there is this tendency to ask any stranger where they are going? Now, I understand if the police want to know where you are heading .But it is really no-one else’s business to know what you are doing or where you are heading off to! This was particularly bad in Ethiopia – for some reason complete strangers would ask where you are going and they got really frustrated / annoyed if you refused to tell them where you were heading - they usually then just followed you around or continued to ask (or get their friends to ask) until you told them.

Personal space (especially in Ethiopia): One of the things that I found most frustrating about travelling in Africa (and Ethiopia in particular) was the lack of personal space. People would flock to me and the motorbike and would want to touch and feel everything. I would often come out of the hotel / shops to have people sitting on my motorbike or find that the switches on the handlebars have been tampered with. A few times people (usually little kids) would unzip my pockets or put their hands in my pockets or my bags, just to see what was there – in the majority of cases, I am sure there were no bad intentions, it was just pure inquisitiveness.

Beard: One of the things I found quite funny was that because I have a beard and am faranji (white), the Ethiopians just automatically assumed I was from Israel?? Apparently Israeli’s are the only white people in the world that have beards. The Egyptians assumed I was Spanish because of my dark tan and heavy beard - I was often greeted with 'Hello Amigo" :-)

“You You You”: On seeing a faranji in Ethiopia many of the children run to you begging, with outstretched hands, shouting “You, you, you!”. Very annoying. I had a chat to an old man in Ethiopia who spoke some English and explained to him that it is rude in English to shout “You, you, you!” to someone. He said that he realised that, but a lot of the younger children didn’t realise they were being rude – the word “you’, for some reason, is the only little English they know and they are trying to be friendly by communicating with me in my own tongue.

Faranji Prices: There seems to be two different prices in Africa: One price for the locals and the other price for the foreigners. Although this is done very discreetly in most of the African countries, it was not so in Ethiopia. Shop owners / businesses would quite proudly claim that the local price is X and the faranji price is Y. The faranaji price was normally 3 to 4 times the local price. In one museum, the faranji price was 6 times the local price!! This is racism in its purest form and it annoyed me beyond belief! In Egypt, prices for goods are never displayed - at the tills the seller just guesses a price (which is ussually high if he sees that you are a toursit) and it is up to you to negotiate the price back down again. Annoying and frustrating!

“Give me money / Give me food / Give me pen”: Many small street kids would run towards me shouting “Give me money / food / pen”. Some of these kids had only just learnt to talk and walk yet they were insistent that I gave them something. This could only have been taught to them by the elder kids / parents. Besides, what happened to “Please may I have ...?“ Manners, manners, manners! On one occasion in Malawi, I noticed a mother talking to her kid we walked past them. On instruction from the mother, the kid then jumped up and ran to us begging for money. It infuriated me that this mother was teaching her kid to beg. She could see that I was annoyed with her and just laughed. This kid and her mother were no worse off than any of the other families and I am sure could get by just fine with what they had i.e. there was no need for the kid to be begging – the mom was just hoping the kid could earn her that little bit extra. Kids need to be taught self-respect! They need to be taught the value of work as opposed to begging. Begging from white people will just instil in them an inferior race complex. Isn’t that what Africa has fought so vigilantly against over the past few decades (colonialism / apartheid)?

Treat animals: I was often appalled by the way that Africans treat animals. In Mozambique I saw many dogs that were so covered in disease (usually mange or tick bite fever) that they were just left on the side of the street to die in total pain and agony. I have seen donkey’s that have been made cripple by having to carry loads that are far too large for their bodies to carry. I have seen donkeys and other domestic animals with their legs tied together – or with their one back leg tied to their head so that they do not stray away from their owners. I have seen a baby monkey and a baby baboon tied to a tree with no more than a metre of rope for it them to play. I have seen sheep (still alive) with their legs tied together being transported on the roof of buses – in one case between Addis and Bahir Dar which is a 800km trip on the roof of a bus in the blazing sun. I have a group of about 15 chickens (still alive) with their heads tied together and being slung over a guy’s back (like a rucksack) as he carries them down to the market. I have seen sheep (still alive) strapped to a bicycle being transported into town – one on the carrier and one on the handle-bars. All of these – and there were many more - are disgusting acts of cruelty!

Houses next to roads / Walking: In Mozambique and Malawi (particularly), many houses are built right up next to the main national highways! People walk into and out of their houses at will and it is very worrying being on a motorbike when at any moment one of the doors could swing open and a couple of children could run out onto the street. Also streets are used by children (some as young as four or five years old) to walk to school. As you can imagine, kids often play / fool around at this age, with little regard to the major national highway that is right next to them. I often wonder about parents / governments that would let their young children walk to school (sometimes for tens of kilometres) along a national highway. I would be interested to know what the actual pedestrian fatality rate is in these countries – at a guess I would think that the figure would be pretty close to the HIV statistics.

Motorcycles: The majority of motorcycles in Africa are <200cc, so they have much less power / speed than my motorbike. As a result, motorbikes are on the bottom of the food chain in terms of vehicles on the road. I cannot begin to count the amount of times that I was either pushed off the road by another vehicle swerving into my lane or had to career of the road when an oncoming car decided to overtake (using my lane). Because motorbikes are smaller, other vehicles seem to think they deserve less road space and therefore the left over space is up for grabs. There seems to be very little regard for the rights of the motorbike rider on African roads. I have had many close calls!

People / livestock on the roads: Throughout my journey (except in SA), national highways are used by pedestrians to walk from one place to the next. In Ethiopia, this was particularly bad as people there seem to have very little road sense. Even adults would walk out onto the streets without even so much as a glance to check whether there is an oncoming traffic. The roads are also used to transport livestock which adds to the problem. Herds of cattle / sheep / camels / goats / donkeys are conveyed along the roads from one place to the next. There is no telling in which direction scared and nervous livestock will run. As a result the roads, particularly those in Ethiopia, were extremely dangerous.

Kids throwing stones etc (Ethiopia): Read the postscript (“My view on the people of Ethiopia”) on my blog on Ethiopia.

Queuing: North of Kenya, people do not seem to understand the concept of queuing or just waiting your turn. No queues are formed or enforced by the officials – instead it is replaced by pushing, shoving, shouting and fighting to try and get through. Any trips to banks, shopping centres or border posts turned into a nightmare. Many sense-of-humour failures are witnessed – including mine on quite a few occasions! Absolute chaos! Ridiculous!

Rubbish Disposal: Throughout Africa there seems to be no concept of rubbish disposal. Streets and towns are scattered with rubbish and it is not uncommon to see people simply dropping their rubbish on the floor. I am not sure who they think will pick it up? At a hostel that I stayed at in Sudan, I had placed some rubbish in the rubbish bin only to walk past the same rubbish the next day - it had been thrown over the back wall of the hostel! I was also shocked to see about 10 full black rubbish bags that had been accumulated on the Lake Nasser ferry being dumped over the back of the ferry directly into the lake!

Hasslers in Egypt: As there are many tourists in Egypt, the streets are filled with overenthusiastic (and often bogus) guides that have had centuries of experience in ripping off unsuspecting tourists for trips that are seldom well planned or executed. A further annoyance is the constant aggressive badgering to buy souvenirs. A walk through any tourist area will often result in hundreds of approaches for felucca rides, ancient site tours, restaurants, hotels, taxi's, horse rides, camel rides or just constant badgering to buy souvenirs. Very annoying!!! I have become a professional at just ignoring them – as if they are not even there or as if I am deaf. I find that ignoring them seems to work the best because it makes them more annoyed than they are making me … a bit of payback ha ha.

Speed bumps: In many african countries there are speed bumps before and after any towns and cities. This is not ussually a problem, except that they are very seldom painted and even during the day they are hard to spot. I dont know how many times I flew over a speed bump at pace because I had not seen it - scary. At night they are impossible to see!

Traffic in Cairo: The traffic in Cairo is ridiculous to say the least. Drivers are extremely impatient and travel at ridiculous speeds. Although the roads are often well demarcated with lanes, it seldom happens that drivers will stick to the lanes. Any gap that appears will very quickly be taken by a vehicle intent on getting there first. Drivers drive with their hands almost constantly on the hooter and are quite happy to cut other drivers off that are trying to squeeze their way past. On a motorbike this can be extremely dangerous. Whilst travelling down the ‘ring-road’ at ridiculous speeds (to keep up with the other traffic), cars would often try and squeeze past with only millimeters of clearance from the motorbike. Very nerve-racking and very dangerous! As with the rest of Africa, no motorcyclists wear helmets here. I have never seen such bad and impatient driving before!

The Bike

2009-08-29T10:16:00.002+02:00

About 18 months ago I purchased a Kawasaki KLR650 with full intentions to do this trip with the bike. The bike was great and I put many kilometres on the clock and spent a lot of time and money on the bike adding on extra's and getting the bike ready for this trip. The KLR650 is renowned for being a solid and reliable motorbike, although not very quick (which I am not saying is a bad thing). There are many websites out there have some great write-ups on the KLR650 and I have no doubt that it would have got me safely through Africa.

However, I was never comfortable with the bike. Although very comfortable to ride, I felt it was slightly underpowered and sluggish. I wanted something bigger! Towards the end of last year, I decided to sell the bike and started looking at a bigger, but equally reliable bike.

The first bikes I looked at were the BMW range (F800GS and R1200GS). They are both great bikes, but I thought they were both far too expensive for what you are getting. The F800GS I thought was a bit too small for me (it has a really low saddle) and the R1200GS, with its big 'boxer' engine is very heavy. As the majority of the trip will be solo, I will need to be able to handle/lift the bike on my own without the help of other riders.

For those of you who watched "Long Way Down", all three of the R1200GS bikes broke down with suspension (and other) problems which was a bit of a concern for me. I dont want to be carrying a full repair shop with parts across Africa!

I also had a look at some of the other makes. The Tenere, DL650, Trans-Alp etc are all great bikes but not quite what I was looking for.

Eventually, I decided to get a KTM990 Adventure. The KTM is big on power and touring distance and is an absolute showpiece of technology. Nearly all of the riders in the Dakar Challenge are riding KTM's (albeit on the KTM690cc) and it has been years since any other bike has won the race! It is renowned for its jaw-dropping performance offroad. There's plenty of good bits bolted on, including Brembo brakes. But the bike is'nt all about performance, with a large seat and a full fairing to protect the rider from the oncoming wind. The bike is probably more at home offroad than on - but is well renowned for both.

I have also since added (and will be adding) a few accessories to the bike to get it prepared for the trip:
1) 41-litre Aluminium Side Panniers (Hepco Bekker)
2) Crash Bars
3) Radiator Guard
4) Skid Plate
5) Brake Master Cylinder Guard
6) Tank Bag
7) GPS cradle
8) Enlarged side stand base (to hold the bike up in the desert sand)
9) Additional Spot Lights (for night riding)
10) Stebel Hooter - extra loud!
11) Michelin Annakee Tyres (front and back) with Ultra Heavy Duty Tubes
12) 17'' rear wheel conversion
13) Heavy duty front suspension
14) Front Light Guard

Where is the African aid to Haiti?

2009-08-29T06:30:00.001+02:00

Botswana News Paper Southern Africa
Friday, January 29, 2010
Haiti and the blacks!
written by Loose Canon (a Black Man!)
24.01.2010 4:23:39 P

I hope black people will learn a lesson from the earthquake that hit Haiti.
If they don’t learn anything from it, then I throw up my hands in despair and give up.
Let’s start with a few basic facts.
Until the earthquake, I never knew there was a place called Haiti. I was taught geography at school but I cannot remember a time when the mistress told us about Haiti. It must have been one of those insignificant countries that we had no reason to know about.
I was fairly good at geography because I knew which country was on which continent. I also knew many capital cities. But as for Haiti I was clueless.
Now the whole world, including myself, knows about Haiti. I heard news of the earthquake on the radio. I wondered where Haiti was and what sort of people lived there.
Finally, when I switched on the television, I was informed that Haiti is an island out in the Caribbean. Television pictures revealed a place populated by black people.
From the non-stop television coverage of the earthquake, I got to learn about the history of Haiti. It was not a good history lesson. It would seem throughout its existence Haiti has suffered a series of natural calamities. In the process it has sunk even deeper into poverty and deprivation.
Like all places populated by black people, Haiti is poor. As I watched the television images, I felt very sorry for that forsaken place. Then I was hit by a thunderbolt.
I wondered what if there were no white people. You see, when the earthquake hit Haiti somebody had to come to its assistance. There had to be a rescue effort. The Haitians who survived of course did their fair bit by digging out their families from the collapsed ramshackle buildings.
But such was the scale of the devastation and the loss of human life that a bigger effort was needed. For that sort of work, you need heavy lifting gear and other sophisticated rescue equipment. I have been following the story of the earthquake keenly. I can attest to the fact that the first people to arrive with sniffer dogs were white crews from all over the world.
The aero planes that set off carrying water and food were from white countries. Not only that, the teams of volunteer doctors that I saw on television comprised white people from across the world. As the sniffer dogs went into action, the organized rescue teams that carried the stretchers were made up of white people.
It was announced that a mobile hospital was on the way. It was coming from a white country. For all intents and purposes in the aftermath of the earthquake, Haiti was literally swarming with white people. They had all arrived to save the poor blacks. And the locals were so happy to see them. Granted there were teams from the Orient such as the Chinese and Japanese. They too had quickly left their homes and families to go and assist the stricken people of Haiti.
It is obvious to everyone that this was a devastating earthquake and the work to repair Haiti and return it to a modicum of normalcy will take many years. Somebody had to commit funds to this effort. Most of the countries that have committed funds to aid the recovery are white. In fact, it would seem the whites are running the show in Haiti.
What is my point?
My point is that ever since Haiti was hit by the earthquake I have not seen any of my folks from Africa. Unless the television cameras deliberately ignored them, I never saw a rescue team from my motherland. Nor did I see any sniffer dogs from down here.
Heck, I never saw a single traditional doctor busy divining where to find people buried under the rubble.
Haiti is a land of black people. I would have expected the place to be swarming with black people helping their own. They were nowhere to be seen. I never saw any ships from black countries pulling into the harbour.
As the air traffic circled above the small airport, none of the planes was reported as coming from Africa. The blacks were nowhere to be found. They issued tepid statements of condolence to the people of Haiti and a few of the African countries donated small amounts of cash.
Granted that was better than nothing. But I must say I was disappointed. I was sad because the blacks did not behave as I had expected. You see, for far too long black countries have been insolent to the point of being abusive. They have a tendency of insulting the white man and telling him to keep out of their countries. In Fact, black people have the temerity to tell white people they can perfectly survive on their own.
So I had expected the black countries to be consistent and behave true to form. Why didn’t black countries tell white countries to stay away from Haiti because we were quite capable of leading the rescue effort? We should have insulted them as we often do at international forums.
There, our countries insult white countries and accuse them of imperialism and neo colonialism. I was extremely disappointed when our countries failed to accuse white people of practicing imperialism and neo colonialism by coming to rescue the blacks of Haiti.
We should have told them we have better sniffer dogs that have been taught only to rescue black people. We should have told their ships to stay away and their planes not to overfly Haiti because we were up to the job with our own ships and aeroplanes.
We should have brought in our traditional food instead of the strange rations the Haitians are not accustomed to.
I am so disappointed by the black leaders that I hope never to hear them again bleating about how bad white people are. The earthquake in Haiti was the most opportune time to show the whites, once and for all, that we don’t need them.
From now onwards, I want black leaders to shut up and never accuse ever white people of being bad. I am sick and tired of big words such as imperialism and neo colonialism which are unable to rescue victims of the earthquake.
I hope this is not the last earthquake that hits a black country. I want the next one to specifically hit the residence of Mugsy in Harare. Then we will see if he will abuse the white crew coming to rescue him and Pretty Face!

President Zuma to father his 20th child

2009-08-29T06:19:00.006+02:00

ZUMA NEEDS SEX THERAPY (LIKE TIGER WOODS)

South Africa's ruling party has dismissed a storm over President Jacob Zuma's lovechild, as political opponents told him to stop behaving like a "gigolo" and get sex addiction therapy.

"Our view is that the matter between any two consenting adults remains their own personal affair," the African National Congress (ANC) said in a statement.
"This unjustified attack to the president is disingenuous. There is nothing wrong that the president had done. There is nothing 'shameful' when two adults have a relationship."

Opposition parties reacted angrily to a weekend media report that Zuma had fathered a child with the daughter of one of his close friends, a top organiser of the 2010 World Cup.The main opposition Democratic Alliance (DA) said Zuma had weakened the country's messages of safe sex. "We believe President Zuma needs counselling and sex addiction therapy, as was recommended for Tiger Woods who has a similar problem of sleeping around." "His personal behaviour has profound public consequences," said DA leader Helen Zille.

The girl, born in October, is the 20th to be fathered by 67-year-old Zuma who is a practising polygamist with three current wives, the Sunday Times reported.
The ANC breakaway Congress of the People (COPE) said the report was "scandalous" after Zuma's marriage last month, accusing him of "highly irresponsible" behaviour in one of the world's most AIDS affected countries. "His continued use of African custom as a smokescreen is also no longer acceptable. Polygamy is not promiscuity and his behaviour is not justifiable under any circumstances," said leader Mosiuoa "Terror" Lekota.

"The South African public must make its voice heard and tell President Zuma to start behaving like a president and not a gigolo." The small African Christian Democratic Party accused Zuma of undermining South Africa's anti-AIDS fight and "increasingly unbecoming behavior that brings shame to our nation".

"A man who already has three wives living with him has no moral right to continue sleeping around with women he is not married to," said party leader Kenneth Meshoe.
The ANC said it did not see a link between the ANC's HIV policies and the Zuma's personal relationships.

Zuma's new baby is just the latest scandal to erupt around the president's sex life. In 2006, during a trial that acquitted him of rape, Zuma admitted to having sex without a condom and then said he had showered to ward off the risk of infection.
He was the head of the National AIDS Council at the time.

REPLY: BY LUKHONA MNGUNI

Dear Mr President Jacob ZumaShare
Today at 4:54am
Dear Mr President Jacob Zuma

After having read the front page story of the Sunday Times (31/01/2010), I feel compelled to write to you as this ordinary citizen that I am. Because I am a commoner, my judgement of your actions could be regarded as disrespect. Equally you might be indulging in all these sordid acts because you feel that you cannot be questioned and brought to book.

As a young man I have an interest in the way in which those in power are behaving, so as to ensure that we have good, moral and ethical leaders to look upon. A public figure who does not inspire confidence or does not conduct themselves in a manner that seek to inspire development of society, should be eliminated from the limelight and sent into the deepest of corners so that their misleading acts are shunned. To me you happen to be such an individual.

In your address during your inauguration and also in your first State of the Nation address, you emphasised greatly on moral regeneration. The reason why religion has seemingly failed to produce members that embody the values taught in religious institutions is because the preachers themselves are failing to be upright leaders who live out what they preach. You are such a preacher to me.

Given your past record that displays you as a man who is easily tempted by indulging in sexual intercourse, it is very difficult for me to throw water over the claims made by the Sunday Times. To me it is irrelevant that the person you impregnated is the daughter of Dr Irvin "The Iron Duke" Khoza, I would still feel the same way even if it was just yet another woman. If this baby was born under normal circumstances, it means that you must have slept with this lady around January 2009. During the same time you had already paid Lobola for Thobeka Madiba-Zuma and you were planning your wedding day with her. At the same time you were already having the pleasure of being attended to by two wives. I suppose given that you were busy campaigning for the 2009 General Elections, the challenges that you faced couldn't be accommodated by your wives, you needed to find solace and release your masculine energy on another woman outside wedlock.

What nauseates me the most is the fact that this lady got pregnant, meaning you had unprotected sex yet again. To me it is clear that you have unprotected sex with your wives, because you do it so easily with "omakhwapheni". It means you are a risk to your wives, because you seem to be fishing for HIV, so that you can take the catch home and distribute it evenly amongst them. Unless there is preventive medication for HIV that you have and we the ordinary people do not have access to.

The Zulu Kingdom should be ashamed at how you have paraded their culture of polygamy, a culture that is in fact to me very demeaning of women. To me it symbolises true qualities of chauvinism and patriarchy, whereby if a man is not satisfied with one woman, then they can go get another. Meanwhile society would vilify a woman who would take a second man. Polygamy also promotes cheating on your wife, because you must first know the second wife, well in your case sixth, intimately on stolen moments away from your wife. So during that time you are lying to your wife or wives claiming to be seeing no one besides them and even to God, whom you made such a pact with when getting married.

Polygamy reduces women to objects that are used to just satisfy the egos of many men out there, who see having many women as a sense of superiority and achievement. To me this is a very small minded sense of thinking.

I cannot have you preach morality to me when you partake in such disgusting acts that make me feel if only I was not a South African. When a sex scandal broke off about Mr Bill Clinton, he had to step down as President of the USA. The President of the World Bank stepped down after such allegations were tabled against him. However to you it is just yet another day another dollar and nothing will happen, because you are hiding behind tradition and using it to camouflage your helpless sexuality.

You are a man who does not respect women clearly, a man who does not believe in treating your wives with the best respect they deserve. I doubt maKhumalo is happily married to you, but she is probably fearful of what shall become of her if she were to leave you. It is unfortunate that the majority of the people in your organisation find your acts acceptable; it goes to show how the morals of the ANC have become fragmented over the years.

You occupy the highest seat in our land and many people will find a way of using your acts to justify their mistakes and atrocious behaviours which resemble yours. You are not a beacon of hope to me, but rather that one of disaster.

It is impossible that you could raise all your 20 children, so it means that you promote unstructured families whereby kids grow up with single parents. You promote and justify cheating. You promote for society to discredit the three pillars of fighting HIV, because you do not Abstain, you do not get to Be Faithful, you do not Condomize.

What are you good for? Absolutely nothing. You are shaming our country and making it seem as if we are unable to be led by principled leaders.

You are a health risk to your wives, you are a financial risk to the taxpayers who must pay for your opulence and you still pledge your support to communists.

I ask of you to step down as President, before you turn South Africa into a quagmire that resembles your sexual life and its animalistic behaviours.

Written by: Lukhona Mnguni
COPE and COPESM member, in his personal capacity
killpovertysa@yahoo.com

ZUMA RESPONDS:

Zuma regrets pain amid fury at sex scandal February 7, 2010
As the controversy surrounding his latest sex scandal refuses to die, South Africa's polygamous President, Jacob Zuma, has issued a statement saying he regrets the ''pain'' caused by the revelation that he has fathered a love child.

Mr Zuma, who has three wives, said the matter had put a lot of pressure on his family and the ruling African National Congress after it was reported in local media last Sunday.

''I deeply regret the pain that I have caused to my family, the ANC, the alliance and South Africans in general,'' Mr Zuma said on Saturday, referring also to his party's alliance partners. ''I also acknowledge and understand the reaction of many South Africans.''

Details of the 67-year-old President's sex life contradict the government's HIV/AIDS campaign, an important element of which is reducing promiscuity. But the scandal appears to have hit a deeper nerve: a sense Mr Zuma crossed an invisible line.

The birth of his latest child unsettled his core supporters, traditionalists who accept polygamy but regard having a child outside those multiple marriages as improper. Many other South Africans, particularly urbanites, are disquieted by polygamy. The practice sits awkwardly with the country's stated commitment to gender equality.

Mr Zuma initially ignored the latest revelations, then issued a brief statement on Wednesday acknowledging paternity and attacking the media. However, critics attacked his view that the media had no right to probe his private life.

After the blaring headlines (''Shame of a Nation'') and cartoons (''The Sex-President''), Mr Zuma cancelled public engagements for two days, citing his workload. One of his sons, Duduzane, released a statement on Friday saying Mr Zuma's children were content, and asking the media to leave his father alone.

''We, as a family, are content with the polygamous nature of our household. We are content to have 20 siblings or more,'' the statement said.

But some South Africans are angry that the country accepted Mr Zuma's polygamy and his macho cultural pride - only to see him slip into bed with girlfriends and daughters of friends.

The mother of his latest child is Sonono Khoza, a bank official and daughter of an old friend of Mr Zuma, Irvin Khoza, the head of South Africa's soccer World Cup organising committee.

A Mail & Guardian columnist, Charlotte Bauer, said: ''I think the reason Jacob Zuma took three days to respond was that it caught him completely by surprise, this outpouring of fury and condemnation.''