Feb 17^th

Our camp tonight is, for me, possibly our best yet. Set some 200m from the road, we are in what could be English parkland. Mature trees are dotted about the mainly flat area; woodland is to one side and mountains to the other.  Around us, of course, are many children, but not so aggressive as others have been. A few houses and stacks of straw stretch along the roadside. Goats, cows, donkeys and bulls roam around contentedly. I walked over to where some men were throwing grain in the air to separate the chaff and dust. They offered me some, which I found tasty. He brought some beans out to sample. Then came a cup of cool liquid which looked like used washing-up water and I had to politely refuse. On the other side of camp, I was able to watch five bullocks being sent around in circles, trampling over the straw, by a young lad. I presume this was the “tef” cereal that they grow.

The whole day had taken us through some captivating, rolling countryside, where the farming is more structured, more prosperous-looking. Thickly-planted eucalyptus plantations are an important crop in this area. They are cut by hand and graded into various thicknesses. Most of the houses are built from these, upright saplings held together by horizontals. Wicker and lattice work is also on offer.

So many of the riders have been or are ill, so I am riding well within my limits to avoid putting my body under stress. The relaxing pace worked well till lunch. Unfortunately, there was perhaps a 40 km. stretch after lunch where rocks and stones spoiled things a bit. Hilda has a dented helmet, Ted has a mark on his chest from a frontal attack, while many of us were a little luckier.

Distance: 163 kms.   time cycling; 6 hrs. 56mins.   Av.speed: 23.7 kph.

Feb 18th. Thursday.

Quite a lot of climbing before lunch saw us at 2400m. At 96kms., most riders stopped for a coke or, much better in my view, a layered fruit drink. Camp is in a pine wood. The only issues today centre on stones again, with one rider’s wound needing stitches.

Lunch: There are fill-ups of water and fuel drink. For food, rolls with a filling- today’s fillings were rice, pork luncheon meat, tomato and lettuce. Oranges are available too.

Health check:

-elbow still showing puss from falls in Dinder, dressing each day.

-saddle sores uncomfortable, particularly on left side sitting bone; daily dressing will sort it..

-sting from yesterday, nothing serious

-no fever, diarrhoea, vomiting or fever yet!

-no muscular problems.

Tomorrow the Blue Nile Gorge!

Dist.:118 kms.   Time cycling: 5 hrs. 31   Av.speed: 21.4kph.

Feb 19th.

I spoke too soon. After dinner last night, I took an anti-histamine tablet for the sting. May be it was just a coincidence, but I got a fever and spent a most disagreeable night. When it was time to get up, I felt very weak.

Today’s ride was the Nile Gorge, including an 1800 descent to the bridge over the Blue Nile, and then 1800 back up .I couldn’t have cycled to the corner shop. Many riders have described today’s stage as very stirring. Unfortunately I did not see much of it, nor the efforts of the riders climbing, as I was napping in the dinner truck.

It amazes me how some of the riders have coped with these sicknesses. Some have had to pull out for a few days; indeed there are three, I think, that have gone ahead to Addis Ababa for treatment. There are others that are continuing despite diarrhoea and swollen lymph glands.

My tent pole broke again in two places tonight. Anneke lent me a sleeve with which to mend it, but it looks like I will have to try to get a new tent in Addis.

Tomorrow will take us to the highest point of the whole journey, over 3100m.I have felt a lot better this evening. If I can get a good night, I want to be back on the bike again.

Feb. 20th. On the up!  Dist 90 kms  Av. 20.1     Time cycling  4hrs 24

Before our steep climb up to the highest point of our journey (3140m), we had some 30 kms. through rolling countryside. The homesteads, (by which I mean the houses where the farmers live), catch the eye: always tidy with usually perfectly-formed cone-shape stacks of straw. The extensive farmlands that had seemed to be very large fields take on a new identity once some ploughing is done. They are a patchwork of small fields, maybe an acre in size, with no discernible division. Animals appear free to roam.

Land is passed down, and therefore divided between the children, so the farms are becoming smaller, to such an extent that they some are incapable of supporting a family. Furthermore, the government can compulsory purchase land for those it favours.

It was only about 13 kms. when I passed Micky, one of the Ethiopian riders travelling this section with us. With one hand on his handlebars, the other was carrying a big (say 70 litre) plastic drum. As I passed, I joked that the water bottles were getting bigger, but it was only tonight I understood the reason.

Meanwhile, after lunch at the highest point, and enjoying being back on the bike, I was concerned to see one of the girl riders by the side of the road, clearly very upset. Two boys had hit her on the legs with stones- and then had the audacity to run up to her when she stopped and shout “money! money!”  I rode with her for a long while, in case there were any further incidences.

So,back to Micky. With the ride being relatively short, there was time to relax a little. I got chatting to him, and he told me about the plastic drum. Two youths of, he guessed, 12 and 17, had thrown stones at him as he passed. When he stopped to ask them what they thought they were doing, they laughed and smirked. This so riled him, he chased after them on his bike. They ran like the wind, crashing their way through the temporary fencing that formed the compound for a house. A big man was sat outside the house and Micky heard him shout at them to leave his property and they were gone into the fields beyond.

Now they had left this drum behind. It contained various items like clothing and cutlery. He threw them all out over a wide area and went to the nearest police station, hoping that the kids might go there to retrieve the drum. But the police had all gone for breakfast. So he carried it for a few kilometres. He met an old man by the side of the road. He had a little wheat that he had just roasted and was eating. He offered some to Micky. He said to the old man words to the effect that so many were offering nothing to the traveller, just asking for money, whereas he was offering something and asking nothing in return. He offered the drum to the old man, who only took it once he knew that Micky had tried to hand it in the police.

I felt sorry for Micky. He told me that he felt ashamed of his country. But, as I explained to him, these kids are exceptions. They have taken up too much of my blog; it is just unfortunate that cyclists, cyclists alone, are seen as fair game for practicing stone-throwing. The “give me money” epidemic needs little explanation.

Feb 21          Distance 104             Av. 20                            Time cycling 5hrs 14

Today has been one of long, slow climbs and fast descents through some of the best scenery yet. The prettiest parts were where there was a return to the round thatched dwellings, grouped together on the hillsides, blending beautifully with the browns and mauves of fields. At 92 kms. we all grouped up high on a hill above Addis Ababa.

There has been increasing excitement amongst the riders at the prospect of facilities we have been denied for so long. For quite a number, that will be a hotel – indeed a few have booked into the opulent Sheraton- for others it may just be the chance of a good ice-cream, a meal of more variety.

We cycled in to the grounds of a small hotel where we will be allowed to pitch our tents on the grass. After a cold shower, I got a taxi to a mall where I was told I would find a tent shop. No luck there. but I did find a funky cafe where they do marvellous fresh food, coffee out of this world and chocolate cake that almost prevents you from drinking your coffee.

Addis is quite a drab-looking place with good facilities and everything you would expect of a world capital. The remains of “Lucy” can be seen in the museum here, but the only bones I want to see are on my plate. We are here to eat, rest and catch up on the internet!

I am off back to that cafe!

Best wishes,

Eric.

PS we say goodbye today to Mark and Georgie who joined us for this section. They have been great company. Good luck to them both.