TDA 2013 Cast

We have just updated the video for the final section of TDA 2013 to include the aforementioned video cast list - click here to watch it. It follows the normal section 8 video. It's worth watching for those who know people on the trip!

The TDA 2013 Song

Our resident musician on the trip, Phil Howard, was tutored by none other than Ronan Keating. He composed a song to summarise the 'epic adventure' and we have put some clips to it.

Click here  to hear it.

The final chapter...

The video for the final leg of what we have now decided to call our 'epic adventure' is finished and you can watch it by clicking here or by clicking on the Blog archive. There is a cast list at the end for those that are interested (apologies to sectional riders - we didn't have all of you)!

We hope you have enjoyed watching the videos - they have been a lot of work to put together so for anyone who has been watching them to keep tabs on the tour, please help us to support out three great charities by sponsoring us. You can do so by clicking here.

Namibia

[better late than never]

 

Of all the countries that we have visited over the course of our bike ride, Namibia is high on the list of places that we would return too.  It is a truly stunning country with some amazing desert landscapes. Whilst we did not ride much through the Kalahari, we spent a good deal of time in the Namib Desert, enjoying the harsh landscapes, surprisingly varied wildlife and the iconic sand dunes (including the world’s biggest, imaginatively called ‘Big Daddy’). Given the entire dearth of scenery throughout Botswana, having something, anything, to look at has been a treat, but the contrast meant the beauty of Namibia felt even more spectacular.

 

Namibia was colonised by the Germans originally and there are signs of this dotted around – random Colditz-esque castles in the middle of nowhere, amazing bakeries and long unpronounceable (to us) place names. Unlike some other colonised countries, the German language was never forced upon, or even really taught to, the local people, and so Afrikaans prevailed as Boers from the South moved North to settle in Namibia. However, due to the association between Afrikaans and Apartheid, Namibia chose to make English its official language, even though it is the first language of only around 5% of the population (most people do speak it).

 

The prevalence of white people in Namibia meant that we (a bunch of pasty lycra clad folk) were of little interest to locals. This, accompanied with the sheer absence of people to meet, resulted in less engagement with Namibians, a trend which began in Botswana but which leaves us feeling less intimate with a country. 

Up to the end of Zambia, locals would smile, wave, engage and be fascinated/incredulous/outright disbelieving of what we are doing.  By this stage on our journey, whilst people may be impressed, they tend to counter our bravado with the fact that they once cycled 100 miles in 1963, a feat that prevented their eyes popping out of their sockets as they have done in previous countries.

 

 

The upside of heading back towards Western civilisation has been the return of (usually) warm showers, well stocked supermarkets, efficient restaurants and cracking (in the good sense) tarmac. Long may these smooth rides continue to South Africa!

 

*Disclaimer: Given that Lizzie spent the vast majority of the time that we were in there propping up Namibia’s private health service, whilst Ali enjoyed his new found freedom on the bike, this is solely his narrow view of this beautiful country.

Section 7 Video Mark II

Apparently Bob Dylan doesn't approve of being the very appropriate backing music to our Section 7 video, hence the previous link not working. So we have changed the music, to something that still hopefully works, and re-posted the video. You can watch it by clicking here (unless you're in Germany as apparently none of the music we have used works there. Apologies for that). 

Cape Town!

Crossing the border into South Africa and seeing the first sign for Cape Town, the ending of this journey was starting to become very real.  A few days ago we hit the coast and dipped our toes (only our toes mind, it was absolutely freezing) in the Atlantic Ocean.  We hadn’t seen the sea since Safaga in Egypt, a good long four months ago.

You’d think as the miles stacked up and the finish line got closer the riding would become easier, but although Africa provides the setting for the longest bike race in the world (that’s the one that we just did by the way) apparently that’s not the continent’s raison d’etre, so unfortunately the roads and terrain don’t ease to sympathise and congratulate our arrival at our destination.  The final riding days were still demanding.

We spent the final few days skirting the coast line, and unbelievably the penultimate afternoon caught our first glimpse of table mountain (at least on this occasion geography complied with an iconic feature to demarcate our finish line).  We rubbed our eyes – in both disbelief and somewhat overwhelmed with the emotion.

The actual ride into Cape Town was fantastic.  We stopped at the beach for obligatory photos with our bikes in the air, champagne guzzling and some general jubilation – this was our private celebration amongst the riders, whilst our common bond still held us tight and before our arrival would begin the steady dissipation of the norms we had built around us (acceptably smelly clothes, rushing to queue for any food on offer, uninhibited discussion of bowel movements for example).

 

Having being truck bound for far too long due to the crevice in her leg, as you can imagine, nothing was going to stop Lizzie cycling in the convoy into town.  We gathered and rode as a pack happily chatting for the last 30kms, straight towards Table Mountain and into the waterfront where a spectacular crowd of well wishers were waiting for us.  Flags were waved, medals were given out and we clapped until our hands hurt.  

How does it feel to get to the finish line of a trans-continental bike ride?  We’re not sure that we know yet.  There is utter pride, in ourselves, in those who we rode with and each of their achievements.  There is relief – we made it, the pressure is off.  There is exhaustion, of the body and the mind.  There is sadness, for the end of the most beautifully simple life style; to leave the pleasure of the road and the sights it takes you to; to part with the friends that we’ve made; to say good bye to the excellent crew who kept us heading on the right road, nursed us, kept us fed, kept our bikes working, and generally kept us smiling.      

   

It’s going to take some time to work through it all.  And whilst we are doing that, we can dream up the next adventure…..

Wind - The Proof!

After our blog on the wind the other day, we were riding through Namibia (into a headwind, naturally) and saw this sign, which we wish had come a week earlier so we could have included it with the post!

Battered Bikes

To get from Windhoek to the border with South Africa, we have taken an off-road route in order to avoid the main highway and the screaming traffic going at 120km/h. This has meant we have seen some beautiful desert and sand dunes. Sadly, we don't think our bikes will thank us.

The cracked rim on one rider's bike - he had to ride the
rest of the day with no front brake as it has to be disengaged
to allow the wheel to go round. Brave man...

As we have mentioned before, off-road tracks often become corrugated by the heavy cars that rush up and down them, causing some severe jolts that our bikes take the brunt of and our bodies take whatever is left. Ali lost his sixth bottle cage of the trip to this stretch of corrugation and water bottles were shaken out countless times. In order to stop the bottles falling out, Ali took his MacGyver-esque skills to fashion a sling out of an old inner tube, which has worked surprisingly well. Although when the actual bottle cage cracked they became entirely redundant...

The now redundant 'inner tube sling' (it
sounds like a cocktail)

Blazing Saddles Series 7 - The One with the Elephant

The seventh and penultimate sectional video is now up on YouTube. Enjoy the Watchmen-inspired music. Click here to watch it.

Last Leg - Lost Leg

As a group of riders we have all come here for different reasons, but there is one goal which nearly all riders aspire to at the start of the trip – the elusive E.F.I (Every F@*!ing Inch).  Achieving E.F.I (and never seeing the inside of the truck) is said to be a matter of good health, a robust bike, a strong mind and, most importantly, luck.  The tour is a machine which waits for nobody, the miles are already set, the camps picked, the water pick ups arranged.  This preordained and unrelenting pace hovers over all of us and puts a pressure on riders who might otherwise flex their plans to listen to the needs of their body; typically just under 25% of any group achieve E.F.I. 

After a serious bout of vomiting and diarrhoea Ali lost his E.F.I in Ethiopia, spending a day and a half in the truck.  Other than one further day off in Botswana with a fever he has ridden on through all other ailments since that point.  Until Windhoek, Lizzie was one of just four girls who retained the status pushing through each kilometre day after day.  With one last stretch from Windhoek to Cape Town the end almost in touching distance.  However, it was not to be.

Two days prior to Windhoek a bad saddle sore had developed and a fever was taking hold, with her temperature over 40 degrees. A group of fellow riders, knowing her commitment to the challenge, heroically formed a group around her, setting a steady slow pace and sheltering her from the wind, they pulled her the 160km in to the rest day.  A trip to hospital and a malaria test later, it transpired that the saddle sore was the cause of the fever and a small abscess was removed under local anaesthetic.  Having thought that her E.F.I was in tatters it was with pleasant surprise that Lizzie tentatively placed her battered behind on her saddle to ride out of Windhoek and in to the desert.

By lunch the bubble was burst.  If we give Lizzie’s left thigh a value of 1, then after the 60km to lunch her right thigh was at least equal to, if not greater than 1.5 (and not due to a growth of heavily defined muscle as we joked about before we set off).  The medic recommended it was time to get off her bike. We’ll spare you the in’s and out of all that followed, but a return to Windhoek, six days in hospital on an IV drip of antibiotics, an operation under general anaesthetic to remove a further abscess and a gathering of dead tissue and the insertion of some material in the leg to ‘drain’ it later, things are finally moving in the right direction.

Having missed out on the majority of Namibia, Lizzie rejoined the group at the border with South Africa.  With two deep open wounds it looks unlikely that she’ll be able to ride the remaining miles to Cape Town.   Testament to her commitment to the tour, her first words upon waking from the anaesthetic were ‘can I get back on my bike?’

Unsurprisingly, not being able to ride the bike changes the very nature of the trip.  It’s hard being around camp and listening to people discussing the intricacies of a road which I haven’t ridden.  Seeeing the sunrise bumping up and down out the window of the truck is nothing like pedalling along next to it and feeling the warmth increase on your skin as it thaws out your fingers.  But there are also positives – not doing 6 – 8 hours of exercise everyday means that I am left with a substantially greater amount of brain power at the end of the day, enabling me to actually string a sentence together and admire and absorb what I am seeing.  This is not the end of the trip as I envisaged, but it doesn’t in any way erode the satisfaction I have over what I have achieved.  

Contrasts

One of the highlights of our trip has been the really understanding and experiencing the contrasts between countries. This has rarely been better exemplified than from moving from Botswana to Namibia.

As we have mentioned in the blog on Botswana, it was very flat, with long, straight roads and little by the way of scenery (although the odd bit of wildlife did spruce it up sporadically). In terms of mental resilience required to cycle for six hours a day there, it was high on the list.

Botswana - long, straight roads. Tough going...

Namibia could not be more different. As we approached Windhoek, the mountains stretched out either side of us, providing great eye fodder. Since we have left Windhoek and headed out off road into the Namib desert, it has just got better and better; this reached a pinnacle with what cyclists can only dream of - arriving at a huge peak without having to climb. We don't know how it happened. We were just riding along, on relatively flat roads, when suddenly the world opened up around and below us and we were given the most spectacular views. May it continue to Cape Town...

Namibia - stunning scenery, interesting roads, and best of all:
a climb-free descent!

 

Some amazing photos

We've been meaning to post this link for a while but have only just gotten round to it! For anyone who wants to see some amazing photos by a professional photographer on our trip, click here.

James has been capturing life on the trip with some absolutely breathtaking photos that put ours to shame.

Please enjoy them!

Ali's interview on Radio Surrey with James Cannon : 30th April

Before Ali and Lizzie left the UK, they were interviewed by Radio Surrey about their plans (early blog).  Now, Radio Surrey wanted an update. 

James Cannon was hoping to talk with Ali on 29th April, but couldn't get a signal to the Namib Desert.  This meant that everyone who knew about the upcoming interview, and was waiting for it,  was "treated" to many traffic updates in Surrey, some survey findings about the sexiest accents (Surrey women, apparently...), lots of birdsong, and - more emotionally draining for Ali's Dad - repeated visits to the story of Aldershot Football Club following their relegation from the League to the Conference.  Torture if you have supported the club since you were 12 years old!! 

And no Ali-interview to mitigate the pain.

However, later yesterday, James managed to record an interview which was played today.  James sent Ali's Mum an email to let her know that he would play the interview at 0725 today, so we were all alert again.. and were well rewarded!

CLICK here to hear the interview

(For the non-iPlayer listeners, click on Listen Now, then click/slide forward on the time-bar)

1.17.03 to hear the first trailer with Ali talking about cycling through treacle; 
1.21.02 to hear Ali's Mum's email being read out, and
1.25.00 : the moment you have all been waiting for!

Thanks James Cannon and thanks Ali.  Great moment.

Cycling

You may have noticed that the blog has focused far more on the places, people and cultures that we have come across on our trip, as well as some of the side issues associated with the riding, rather than the detail of the cycling. 

Whilst the cycling has been a great means to travel through Africa and experience all these things, it has definitely been the main focus of the trip and so perhaps does merit a mention as it engages us for several hours of each day! However, the reason that we have not talked much about it as that the cycling in itself is not the most exhilarating thing to talk about. 

But let us try…here follows an excerpt from our cycling diary:

Day 78: Cycled 178km into a headwind. It was really hot and I was exhausted. Drank 8 litres of water.
 

Day 79: Cycled 183km into a headwind. It was really hot and my bottom hurt. Drank 8 litres of water and 2 ORSs. Cheese at lunch! Slept at a construction camp.
 

Day 80: Cycled 153km into a head/crosswind. It was really hot, I was exhausted and my bottom hurt. We had cucumber for lunch! Exciting times….Drank 7 litres of water and went to the loo 4 times in the night.   Lots of thorns at camp.
 

Day 81: Cycled 145km into a headwind. It was really hot, I was exhausted, my bottom hurt and the man in the tent next door snored like a pneumatic drill. Drank 8 litres of water, 3 ORSs and 2 cokes.
 

Day 82: Bananas in the porridge at breakfast! Cycled 160km into a crosswind. As with the previous 5 days, there was nothing to see as Botswana is really flat and boring. Saw an elephant by the side of the road which was exhilarating and lots of dung beetles.  Also crickets that were eating each other. We ran them over. It made for a fun game. Drank 6 litres of water and had a beer! Got a headache.
 

Day 83: See Day 80. Saddles sore burst.

Blowin' in the wind

How many roads must a man (or woman) cycle down before they get a tailwind? Quite a lot it seems.

Since we started our trip down Africa, we have become experts in wind (of all varieties). However, never have we paid so much attention to the bearing of prevailing winds and wished we had anemometers to garner both the speed and direction. In Egypt we were spoilt by tailwinds that were so strong, water coming out of a bottle would instantly stream horizontally. This meant we were able to average speeds up to 40km/h for a day. This wind favoured us all the way south to Khartoum, where we sadly had to bear east to Addis Ababa and suddenly our friendly tailwind became a brutal crosswind; it hasn’t really been our ally again until recently. 

Like false flats (see our blogpost on Mindset), you can cycle along with a tailwind considering you are having a great day and thinking “wow, my legs must be strong today”. However, when cycling into a headwind, it can feel like the world is against you and the day might take forever.  It is the unseen nature of the enemy that makes it so mentally challenging.  One of the frustrations about wind is that it is not a constant – whereas you can quantify and define a riding day of 160km with 800m of climbs, and this will be the same for whoever does it, whenever they ride it, the wind is more fickle. Tacking on “into a headwind” at the end of the stats does not seem to do it justice, and you know that had you done the ride a day later, it could have been infinitely easier if the wind had been less.

Cycling into a 30mph headwind. As with the stats frustration, wind strength doesn’t transfer to photos…

We have learnt a lot about responding to the wind, mainly from the Dutch in the group who, it seems, were born with an innate talent for feeling wind direction and forming appropriate shaped pelotons to mitigate the effect as much as possible. Due to our movement forward when riding, crosswinds can just feel like a headwind to the uninitiated (i.e. us), due to their apparent direction. However, we have now learnt to feel for subtle differences of the wind between one ear/thigh/elbow and the other, to work out the actual direction and shelter behind the lead rider accordingly. This really makes riding into the wind easier.
 

Having had southerly (from the south) winds as we headed south from Addis to Lilongwe, the long promised and dreamed of easterly wind that should have materialised as we headed west decided to flip 180° and laugh in our faces. A few days ago though, we turned a corner in Botswana, to head for Namibia, and we suddenly had the most beautiful tailwind. You have never seen so many people smiling and laughing as they ride along at 35km/h, feeling like they are hardly trying. It was wonderful. Concerningly, we have just reached Windhoek, which means ‘windy corner’, and that terrifies us…

The Long-awaited sixth instalment

A little late in the day, but it turns out that the internet in Botswana is pretty prehistoric. Anyhow, click here to see the video for the section from Lilongwe to Livingstone!  

Bad Hair Day

It is fair to say that most days on TDA are bad hair days; the combination of sun, helmet hair and irregular washing don’t make for the most beautiful hairdos.  Hair management not being Lizzie’s forte even at the best of times, she had it cut unusually short before departing for Cairo however by Livingstone it was in need of a bit of attention. 

Bad Hair Day

 

The five large women busy gossiping in the ladies salon inexplicably insisted that she should have her hair cut in the ‘Happy Hair Cut Men’s Salon’ across the street.  At first the fact that everyone else in the salon was bald seemed entertaining (I had no idea so much care went into buffing!), however when the stylist pointed at a poster of pictures of heads with variations of thunder bolts shaved into their scalps and asked which I wanted I wondered if he had misunderstood the word trim. 

Thirty sweaty minutes later (and a narrow escape from the whole process being performed with an electric razor), and unsurprisingly, Lizzie was back to having a boys haircut!

Oh well! Still two more months before work...

 

MS in Africa

One of the things that we have been really looking forward to on the trip was meeting up with Lizzie’s parents, first in Lilongwe and then in Livingstone. Whilst we pedalled the several hundred kilometres in between them, they swanned around on Lake Malawi relaxing and generally enjoying themselves. It was wonderful to see them, have some of our supplies replenished and hear about how cold 2013 has been in the UK.

Travelling in Africa with Mum gives an interesting perspective on how countries accommodate disability and highlights some of the huge challenges that disabled people living here must face.  Through our travels we have come across a number of people with physical disabilities, sometimes being pushed in wheel chairs, others self propelling with equipment such as this great ‘bike’ we  found in Malawi. Most impressive was the one legged Kenyan who cycled several hundred kilometres with us, at extreme pace (ie. way faster than the majority of us). He, however, was of titanic strength and had been set to compete at the London Paralympics had it not been for the withdrawal of his funding.

 

Ali testing out some disability-friendly transport in Malawi

We consider the potholed road and cracked pavement the features that give African cities their character. However, in a wheelchair this can make even a short trip from a restaurant to the bank a hugely challenging, and potentially impossible journey (when it’s not possible to ford the deep gutter lining the road). You start to notice that a hotel you consider largely flat is littered with steps up here and down there. Even the odd ramp can be at such an impossibly steep gradient that Mum is left wondering if she’s about to be ejected onto the floor. Don’t get me wrong, wheel chair travel can be fun – we spent a good 10 minutes trying different angles and speeds of acceleration as we raced together back up a bank of the Zambezi. As we teetered at the top of 30 perilously wet steps leading to the viewing spot of Victoria Falls several muscle bound Zambians rushed to our aid and hoisted the chair a lot further into the air than Mum was necessarily comfortable with and heroically carried her down.

Charlotte’s thirst for adventure never quenched: doing a microlight flight over Victoria Falls

However, whilst a holiday may be a break from the routine, there is no holiday for Mum (or Dad) from the MS. But anyone looking for a new line of business, I do think there might be an opportunity for disability friendly travel guides….


+++++++++++++++++++++++++

The MS Centre which Mum attends is one of the charities which we are raising money for – see our charity giving page      CLICK HERE to donate to the MS Centre which Mum attends and our other charities   

Attracting Press Interest

We're very grateful to the Berkhamsted & Tring Gazette for publishing our progress as we continue on our ride across Africa. The below appeared a few weeks ago.

Another article has also now been put online here. All very exciting!

ColaLife - An Update

We couldn’t be more thrilled to have discovered the wonderful work of Simon and Jane Berry.  If we sometimes feel proud of our own proactive decision to take control of our lives, get on our bikes and cycle the length of Africa, their decision to move to Zambia and explore ways to improve the lives of others through their innovative ColaLife project leaves us reeling, it is an incredibly inspiring story.  The couple live and breathe ColaLife and it’s been infectious to be around during our time in Zambia.  [For an introduction to the project, see our previous blog post from when we met in the UK, or check out their website]

The purpose of the ColaLife trial

 

The ColaLife trial (testing the ability for profit-driven supply chains to improve the availability of anti-diarrhoea kits in rural communities – see picture) is running in Katete in eastern Zambia and Kalomo in the south.  Our route has taken us through both of those districts and happily also through Lusaka where we spent a lovely afternoon with Simon and Jane hearing more about the project (but also making good use of their swimming pool and food supply!)  Following the slight inconvenience of the previously mentioned riots in Katete, we pedalled speedily through our 183km day in time to spend the afternoon in Kalomo with Simon where his Zambian colleagues, Charlotte and  Moses had pulled out all the stops to arrange a very insightful afternoon where we got to see the ColaLife model in action.

Click here to see the video in YouTube

Speaking with the women that had travelled to the store to meet with us and tell us their stories was one of the most powerful experiences which we have had on this trip.  It was wonderful to observe the dynamic in the group as the women giggled and teased one another, at times humming their response to a question in unison with a communal ‘uh huh’ as they hitched they children up on their waists and wiped their faces.  Their reports on the impact of Kit Yamoyo being available to them through the local retailers was nothing but positive. 

A mother tells us about her experience of the Kit Yamoyo

There was a recent mid-trial review, which showed that the project is going well with over 20,000 kits sold across the two districts – a great result. More kits have been ordered to meet demand. For the first six months of the trial, vouchers were distributed to mothers with children under-5, to create awareness of the Kit Yamoyo (Kit of Life). The mothers speak so well of the effectiveness of the kit (they joked about accusations of witch-craft given the speed with which it worked) that they would be willing to pay 5 Kwacha ($1) for the kit, as they will have to do for the final six months of the trial as the vouchers are removed; whether this happens is of crucial importance to proving if the ColaLife model for distributing medical supplies works. To put this money in perspective, the women we saw would have to pay up to 30 Kwacha to go to the nearest medical centre in order to receive ORS medicine through the government distribution route. 

The Kit is also gaining international prestige, winning a design award ahead of the Olympic Cauldron, and also being the subject of a Bill Gates tweet last week! Click here for the @BillGates' tweet 

The money we are raising for ColaLife will continue to help them subsidise the cost of the kits, making them affordable to mothers (as the manufacturing cost is more than 5 Kwacha), and allow them to scale up the project beyond the existing test districts – we really believe this is a fantastic project so please help by clicking here to sponsor us.

Zambia

Zambia feels branded.  We mean that in a good way.  Not only is the nation covered in Zambian football shirts, but we have seen many a truck with signature green and oranges stripes on it and most impressive of all, the excessive use of the prefix ZAM: Zamtel; Zamloaf; Zambeef; Zambikes – the list goes on.  Certainly if for a moment we forget which country we are in (I joke, but with all this pace we are picking up that does actually happen) there are signs all around that this is ZAMbia.

 

 

Zambia has not been overly impressive for its views (to be fair, Tanzania spoiled us) or provided that pleasurable riding (although we fully recognise that tarmac of any description is not something to be jeered at) but we have enjoyed meeting Zambian people and found them relaxed to be around.  This may be due to the high level of English which they tend to speak (all the more impressive given that there are eight national languages and countless others spoken across the country).  Or it may be that Ali is just completely taken by the fact that he is greeted by all and sundry with ‘good morning sir’ and finally being shown the respect that he believes he deserves.

Compared with some its neighbours, Zambia has benefited from its natural resources, most notably the copper in the North. Chatting with a sectional rider who works for DFID (Department for International Development) in Lusaka, they are trying hard to ensure that the benefits of these resources are better distributed across the people, rather than just a rich few. However, compared with previous countries we have cycled through, there appears to be a reasonably sized middle class. Our metric for this is the sheer number of family cars we have seen on the road between towns. In all other countries, the sole traffic has been trucks and pick-ups; in Zambia, we have seen everything from Fiats to BMWs to Beatles (some in garish pink…). However, the fact that the country is landlocked does affect the amount Zambia can receive from the minerals – one shopkeeper, perhaps misguidedly, suggested to us that transport costs were as much as 60% of the revenue received for the copper.

Whilst in Lusaka we visited Zambikes, a social enterprise that makes bicycles from Bamboo - which we thought was pretty cool.  Unfortunately we weren’t able to get to the factory to see how it all works, but we did get to test ride one of their bikes.  These frames are exported to the likes of Europe and America, the profit from which is used to subsidise the production of more robust bikes for the local market, in particular bicycles for medical services which, complete with trailer, becomes a ZAMbulance. 

 

After our aborted attempt in Katete to do something with Simon Berry of ColaLife we met with him and the ColaLife team in Kalomo further south (more on this in a post to follow).  One thing of particular interest was talking about the chiefs local to their project.  On the road in Zambia we have seen many signs denoting chiefdoms or pointing out the offices of particular chiefs.  The presence of village chiefs is very common in Zambia and Charlotte (the field manager in Kalomo) explained to me their importance in the local community; always men and with the title passed through family heritage, they are active leaders, consulted on a huge range of issues.  They may well hold other quite normal positions, for example one in Kalomo District is a school teacher and another works for the government, however they are kept busy with community life and activities; crucial in particular in resolving disputes they clearly command a lot of respect.  

With two days rest in Livingstone we steered clear of the bungee jump and took the opportunity to have a microlight flight over the falls (it can’t all be hard work!).  This was absolutely stunning, enabling us to really get a sense of the landscape of the falls.  It was also a lot dryer than the ground level option which we took later in the day, walking along the opposite cliff from the falls enjoying their beauty in effectively a torrential downpour due to the spray that they give off.  The combination of spray and sunshine means that there is a constant rainbow over the falls which is pretty spectacular.   

 

Fuelling the belly...

One of the pleasures of crossing a continent that has such a variety in history, ethnicity and culture is the enormous variety of food we have been able to taste. Whilst moving on South often leaves us disappointed that a particular favourite dish will no longer be available, or a certain fruit is no longer in season, sometimes it leaves us happy that the local delicacy will no longer be foisted on us.

At times the food has reflected the geographic features of the countries we have passed through. For example in Egypt and Sudan, we frequently had Nile Perch, but then no fish until we got to Malawi, where there were bucketfuls of the stuff from the eponymous lake that runs the length of the country. In Kenya and Tanzania, the food heavily reflected the Asian influence, born originally from the trading routes that sprouted up across the Indian Ocean, and reinforced by the large Indian contingent that now live there. This meant that amazing samosas and chapattis were available everywhere (and often provided a much needed boost when the cycling was feeling desperate), as well as some excellent curries.

Malawian perch being prepared

The two staples that have been ever-present have been beans and chicken, in slightly varying, but mostly enjoyable, forms. In Egypt and Sudan, the beans were made into ful, a sort of mushed bean mix that went very well with the local round bread. Further south, the beans retained their identity a little better, and served with rice made an excellent and filling snack (note: we have never regarded rice & beans as a meal on this trip, but something to keep hunger locked up ‘till lunch/dinner/the next gargantuan meal). The chicken has similarly varied, the highlight being in Sudan, where it was whole or half, grilled on charcoal with some wonderful spices, and served with lime and bread, splayed on your plate (and it cost next to nothing).

Sudanese chicken

The local stodges have all been, unsurprisingly, bland and uninspiring. Whether it be maize (in the form of ugali, or, as in Malawi, looking encouragingly like mashed potato but disappointingly tasting nothing like it) or mashed cassava, none of these will be missed. Sweets have been largely absent since the Arab countries, but boy, did they know how to rot your teeth.

Marvelling at the Egyptian sweets

As we have headed down, the food has generally changed subtly, and often imperceptibly, changing as much with tribes and cultures, as with man-made borders. The one exception to this was Ethiopia. We talked about the food there in our blog post on the country, but injera and the lentil & goat mixes they serve with it are pretty unique. The injera we could probably happily go without in the future, but the food they served with it was wonderful. Even better than this was the layered fruit juices they would provide – pineapple, topped with avocado, topped with mango being a favourite.

Giving Tropicana a run for its money!

Sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse, fast-food has yet to invade most of the places we have been. Slightly sadly, in the shiny new mall in Khartoum, well-dressed Sudanese seemed to be treating their ability to buy & eat deep fried chicken as a sign of wealth. It has seemed that the ability to live more like Westerners is often seen as a sign of wealth, but hopefully junk food won’t be a part of this. However, at times, we have thoroughly enjoyed a good burger or pizza (and some terrible attempts at them as well).

Whilst we have travelled, we have been trying to sample the local cuisine as much as possible, usually on rest days when we have more time to look around. The TDA chefs, whilst sourcing local ingredients, have tended to make more Western type food, largely focusing on providing a good nutritional balance. This has generally been a carb (mashed sweet potato, pasta, rice etc.), a meat (slow-cooked beef short ribs being the highlight so far), local veg and even occasionally pudding (they make a mean bread & butter pudding). As the group is quite large, when providing a meat-based meal, the chefs have to source 40kg of meat to feed us. We have often heard the sounds of a pig squealing, as it is led away, only to be dished up pork that evening. Breakfasts have been, to a tee, porridge and bread (we are imposing a year’s ban on porridge when we return so the sight of it doesn’t send us running), whilst lunch often reflects the areas we are in (avocado countries have been our favourite so far).

Fish served TDA-style

The remaining country that Ali is most excited by is South Africa, where he is aiming to do for an entire cow during his three weeks there.

Panic on the streets of Zambia

When we thought about undertaking a bike ride down Africa, one of the main reasons we decided to do a supported tour was to minimise the risk posed by some of the more volatile countries. We thought of the recently ended civil war in Sudan, the kidnappings in Kenya and the revolution in Egypt. When we realised we would be passing through Kenya during the election we were grateful to TDA for having ears on the ground and taking responsibility for decisions such as bussing us to a safe spot (this was just in case – as it turned out, this was unnecessary as the election passed without major incident).

If we had to rank the countries we were least worried about passing through, Zambia would have been very high on the list. However, the other day we were reminded just how quickly small incidents can escalate, and that we need to be constantly vigilant. As we approached the town of Katete, the TDA crew called us to a halt and told us to wait, as there were reports of a fire and tear gas. Thoughts of racing were soon abandoned as the picture developed. A couple of weeks ago, a 19-year-old girl was murdered in the village, in a seemingly ritualistic way. This made the national  press, as do four or five similar murders each year. A few days before our circus trundled through, the parents in Katete had a peaceful march, urging the police to do more, as it was felt they were not responding with sufficient speed or application. The morning we approached, the school kids started a similar march. In Zambia, we hear that demonstrations are always peaceful, relatively  joyful affairs, often with singing and dancing. However on this occasion a tyre was set on fire and the crowd started getting excitable. This prompted the police to let off tear gas and it apparently  escalated quickly. As we waited by the side of the road, and several police cars rushed past full of armed men & women (many in plain clothes, wearing riot helmets; where they had come from to this tiny village is still unknown), we also heard reports of looting.

Riot car races past

After a couple of hours waiting, we were informed the trouble had passed, and were told to proceed as a mass convoy through the town without stopping. We followed these instructions and passed  through Katete, which seemed remarkably tranquil other than the odd armed policeman and one man being arrested. As we passed out the other side, we saw a fire ahead on the road and were rushed onto the roadside by some policemen as more police vans raced past, this time firing their guns in the air. About five seconds after the second police car passed, we were informed by the policeman that it was safe to pass, even though we could still hear shots and see fire on the road ahead.  We decided to wait a little longer. Shortly, a police car came to escort us for a few miles – as we followed them, we passed several men who were being held at gunpoint (as the police turned to watch this odd sight of 75 white cyclists going past, the apprehended men gave them the slip and ran into a field). The police escort trundled along, firing warning shots into the air to ensure no one was near the roadside. Ironically, this was probably the least safe we felt throughout the whole incident as, perhaps fortunately, we are not used to gunfire, and they seemed to be firing quite  indiscriminately.

Arrested men...

 Soon the police pulled off and we were free to proceed. From our perspective, the incident never really felt particularly risky, and is apparently a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence in what is normally a very peaceful, tranquil and friendly country. The sad outcome was that ColaLife, the Zambian charity we are raising money for, is trialling its Kit Yamoyo in Katete district, and we had planned to visit their operations, meet some of the mothers who had benefited from the medicine, and the people who help distribute it. As fate would have it, their wholesaler was right next to the riot and tear gas and was apparently looted, hopefully not too seriously. Simon, who started ColaLife, had even driven all the way from Lusaka to help run us through what they do. The upshot was we were  unable to do our visit, but hopefully we can see their work in their other test district, which is west of Lusaka.

With the ColaLife crew

Our Bodies

One of the things that we are asked about a lot is what this trip is doing to our bodies and how they are feeling.  It is fair to say that we are getting to know them in an utterly different way; some days we marvel at their power and others we ask them politely why they seem so sluggish and would they mind awfully moving a bit faster.  We have developed a huge respect and appreciation for them – sometimes wondering what gift or treat we can offer our legs in particular to thank them for all the hard work they do for us. A massage is about the best we have come up with so far, so we indulge their desires and trudge off to find masseuses on rest days, and sit around waiting whilst our legs enjoy a wonderful going over.

Our hard working legs requiring some love

As the challenge is physical, it is through this context that we also get to know the rest of the group – we can recognise everyone’s riding style from quite some distance away (this is of course helped by knowing every item of cycling clothing they could possibly be wearing – to don a new jersey at this point in the trip is impossible without extensive comment, often accompanied by rebuke for the memory that another item had been worn for 8 days straight on a prior occasion whilst this new jersey had sat tucked up in the locker).  And it is also the language through which we address one another: where ‘how did you sleep?’ really means how many times did you get up in the night, and ‘how are you feeling?’ equates to ‘is it solid?’

Even when not in lycra it is possible to spot us as cyclists, from the ridiculous tanlines (not just on the lower arms and legs, but also the white feet and hands (except for the top of our fingers which catch the sun from our fingerless gloves and looks like we have dipped our fingers in syrup). 

 Whilst these days we are feeling largely healthy, it hasn’t all be plain sailing and whilst many of our ailments have been bike related, not all have, but they still need treating to keep us ticking over.  Some of the long list include: bruises and grazing from several falls off the bike; heatstroke; carpal tunnel syndrome (loss of feeling in two fingers for several weeks); multiple bouts of diarrhoea; vomiting; trapped wind; ear ache; fever; repetitive strain injury on wrists from off-road downhill; sunburn on scalp (through the helmet); cuts from falling over like small children and opening beer bottles.

It is amazing how the physical nature of the challenge boils our bodies down to their most basic functions – a lot of the time, we do feel like simple machines, with food going in one end, and leg motion coming out the other. It has been wonderful walking into restaurants and seeing the expressions on waiter’s faces as we, a bunch of scrawny white people, order starters, two mains each, ice cream and repeatedly ask for the bread basket to be topped up. However, we are already starting to worry about how to shrink these gluttonous feasts down to American portion sizes and then back to the diet of a regular person. This is going to take some doing…

Don't say we don't spoil you...

The remarkably prolific directorial partnership of Ali and Lizzie have produced yet another video, this time covering the very short section (6 days riding) from Mbeya to Lilongwe. 

Click here to watch it! 

Malawi Gin

It’s been a whirlwind tour of Malawi, being in the country for just over a week.  Our route took us down the M1, alongside the expansive Lake Malawi where we rested and swam and then up into the hills before descending on Lilongwe for a few days.  Our views of Malawi are probably therefore not that well developed, but a few key features of the country stand out – booze and tobacco!

There is a reason that this section is called Malawi Gin – the local spirit which can be purchased by the shot in a plastic pouch for less than a pound.   Malawi Gin has its competitors – ‘Double Punch’ and ‘Rider’ can also be found in this easily consumable form.  We have found some great posters of the likes of Mandela, Obama, Pele and even Michael Jackson (a slightly mixed bunch) supposedly recommending these beverages (‘Great people make great choices’).

 

If the shots are too much for you, then you can instead go for the innocuous looking ‘Shake-Shake’: what claims to be ‘international beer’ in a carton.  Made from maize and yeast, you give the cartoon a shake (as you might guess), leave it in the sun for some time to ferment and have a grainy, vinegary tasting toxic beverage.  Whilst we weren’t man enough to give the shots a go (athletes and all that), we did sip at one of these and decided that it was an acquired taste. 

 

Malawi is tobacco country.  It fills much of the fields that we ride past, as a much more lucrative crop than maize, and we regularly see it being dried by the road side.  Whilst in Lilongwe we visited the tobacco auction, a huge complex of warehouses bustling with life.  It is a buyers’ market, with the growers watching on avidly from the perimeter as each of their 100kg sacks is passed over in a mere three seconds by the rapidly moving procession of starter, auctioneer and buyers who cruise relentlessly down the aisles.  The pace is dictated by the huge quantity of tobacco that they have to get through.

The quality of the tobacco is checked by auction house staff who assess it for length, height grown above the ground, colour and leaf.  The sacks are marked for this grade, but ultimately it is with a brisk turn of the leaf that the buyer makes up his mind and wiggles or retracts his finger signalling his interest, or lack thereof. 
 

 

The growers have travelled from round the country and their trucks are lined up outside, sometimes waiting for several days to get their position on the auction house floor.  This moment will set their income for the time being but they are not completely at the mercy of the system, if they feel the price is too low the grower can reject the sale.  Equally the auction is not the only means to get their tobacco on the market; there is also a direct contract option where the price is pre-set: around a third of the tobacco each day seems to go through this contract mechanism.   

Interesting to see this whole process take place, still just part of the journey that happens to get the tobacco from the roadside to the cigarette in your hand.

On the road itself speed bumps, rumble strips and other forms of traffic calming have been present for a few countries now.  We are very familiar with the different forms these take and which are most effective to slow the traffic (perhaps we should pimp out our research to the Highways agency?) Whilst we are fully supportive of efforts to slow down the traffic, which is at times terrifyingly fast, these irritate us immensely because we see how ineffectively they slow the trucks, vans and cars, and yet how horribly they rattle our bones, knock our bottles out of their cages and, most concerningly, loosen the quick release on our wheels.  We mention this now because in Malawi these have been accompanied by signs actively deterring speedy driving, the straight forward ‘Speed Thrills but also Kills’ and the somewhat more self congratulatory ‘Road Signs Save Lives’.

In a fly-by visit we have still noticed that the poverty is greater in than in most of the countries we have seen for a while, despite this the general level of people’s English has been impressive.  We had a nice evening in Chitimba where some of the local boys prepared us fish for dinner, chatting with them , whilst not overly complimentary of the government, education was one aspect they felt was being handled well in Malawi.

Tanzania

For anyone who thought that it was always perfectly hot and sunny in Africa, we can confirm that is a fallacy!  In Cairo we froze, in Sudan our innards boiled and in Tanzania we prepared for rain.  Camping on the Kenyan side of the border we experienced our first utter downpour, flooding our campsite and cracking the branch of a tree which tumbled on to a tent below (luckily vacant at the time).  In Tanzania we have experienced the rainy season in full, dropping its load on us day after day making our lives rather wet and churning up the roads.
 

The rich rusty earth of East Africa

Despite, and also probably because of, the rain we’ve seen how beautiful Tanzania is.  It’s wonderful to be somewhere greener and in fact for almost the first time we have been camping on grass (despite that being the way we traditionally think of camping in England, it is funny the things you don’t notice are missing until you find them).  We’ve ridden over constantly rolling hills with wonderful views of the lush green country, which combined with the rich rusty red sand and the blue hills lining the edge of the Rift Valley has made for some spectacular scenes.   For a couple of days we rode through an area harvesting sunflowers for oil and were treated to a landscape dense with the yellow spots of towering sunflowers.

 

A perfect view for a tricky jigsaw puzzle

We first entered Maasai country in Kenya, but the Maasai people also fill northern Tanzania.  They are probably one of the most well-known tribes around the world that continue to live in their traditional way.   We passed many Maasai on the road, the men robed in their traditional red and blue blankets, often carrying a spear; the ladies cluttered with beaded jewellery, with stretched holes in their ears and huge circular necklaces prone around their necks.  Reputedly a very strong people and staunch in preserving their way of life, the Maasai have an interesting relationship with the mass tourism industry.  Visitors are intrigued by them and they have found ways to profit financially from this in a way that interestingly both enhances and preserves their ‘brand’ as it were.  They do this through visits to their villages, performing traditional music and dance in hotels etc.  One result we noticed from this was that every Maasai we met was very clear that they will not have their picture taken, except for money. 

One day we passed three Maasai boys on the road, dressed in black with their faces painted in intricate white patterns.  This garb was a giveaway that these boys were in the middle of the ceremony which takes place as they enter manhood.  Lasting around three months the ceremony starts with circumcision (a group go through this process together), the boys then leave the village, living 20km or so away in the bush.  They spend the time healing from the procedure and fending for themselves; elders from the village visit intermittently teaching them about hunting and other key skills.

The children in Tanzania have been an absolute delight and not a single stone has been slung our way.  Even in the most rural areas, it is clear that this is a very young population [stat on the demographic?] They stand sweetly by the roadside, looking on in astonishment as we pass, overwhelmed by excitement when we throw out a friendly ‘Jambo’ (hello) and replying ‘Poa’ (cool) in perfect unison in response to our ‘Mambo Vipi’s (what’s up?).  Even the small smatterings of Swahili that we have bring those that we chat to great pleasure; our fleeting exchanges as we pass means that we often hear laughter and giggles following us as we pedal on our way.  

 

Clowning around with the village kids

 

We aren’t sure if education is a big priority for the Government, or its just chance that we’ve passed a lot of schools, but every village is overrun by tiny beaming faces in their uniform.  The learning style is one of learning by rote, which might explain why we are often greeted (at any time of day) by ‘Good Morning Teacher’, and not uncommonly (with no discrimination of gender) ‘Good Morning Sir’! We camped by one school that had over 1,000 pupils and only 17 teachers – the headmaster explained to us that the pupils arrive at 6.30 to sweep the playground and tidy the classrooms before the teachers arrive to start lessons at 8.00. Imagine that!

 

School's out

Perhaps being over half way and feeling that the journey is more achievable is making us more light hearted; perhaps it’s been that the roads have just been really fun to ride, or perhaps it’s that Tanzania is a warm and friendly place, but despite the rain it has been an absolute pleasure to ride through.