To do:

1 Clean tent, thermorest and reorganise permanent bag.

2 Buy new tent, mattress and pillow.

3 Wash laundry.

I rose at 6 with an urgency that called for the bathroom. I then stayed up and washed the inside of my tent and the thermorest. I was going to wash my laundry, but a woman who charges a little for doing it, wanted the bowls herself- so she got the job.

Marcel, Anneke, Lynn and I went for a light breakfast at a cafe up the road, just omelette, cake and coffee. It felt most comfortable to do something so simple, and usually  quite normal (pre-TDA, I mean).

I had been told to go to a certain mall to find a tent. There were none. Instead, I had a shave, haircut and hairwash for 50 birre (£5). This man told me to go to what is the biggest mall in Addis, where I would find all types of camping accessories. The mall was no bigger than a Tesco supermarket, but I did find a tent. There was just one make, 2 sizes. For 800 birre.I bought a 3 man tent. It looks good, but how rain-proof will it be?. Hopefully I will not have to find out.

There was nothing else and I spent another couple of fruitless hours scouring the city for a mattress.

Feb 23 Change of course.

We welcomed four new sectional riders and set off in convoy to the outskirts of the city. This road through Ethiopia is the busiest in Africa. The lorries and buses are like giant aerosols, shooting out clouds of black smoke. But what a joy to be back on flat roads again and get some speed up. As we near the area of lakes, the horticulture is seen to be in the hands of big companies, with large, new greenhouse complexes growing plants, strawberries, melons and vegetables.

Before lunch, I cycled with Rod and Julianne. After lunch with Simon. We arrived at campsite about noon. We are just 100m. from the shoreline of Lake Koka. Around two large fig trees, near our tents, a flock of maribou storks strut around like absent-minded professors, before taking a few quick steps to metamorphosise themselves into  immense, utterly graceful gliders that dip in the lake for a feed. Cows stand in the shallows to cool off, while red flamingos stand high a little further along.

It feels rather indulgent to just relax and enjoy the mood.

There are several of these lakes in these next few days. Only one of them is free of bilharrzia and crocodiles.

LAKESIDE, ETHIOPIA

We are heading for Yabello and were to have travelled through Arba Minch. But, if you remember, we had an extra day in Gondar (due to the truck problem), and are thus cycling a shorter route to Yabello in order to save a day. Today is the first of 5 riding days before a rest day in Yabello

Rain is forecast- we have been warned!.

Dist.:99 kms.   Time cycling: 3 hrs. 34   Av speed: 27.8 kph

THROUGH THE ETHIOPIAN HIGHLANDS

Feb 24 Temptation.

Breakfasting as the sun rose over the montains beyond the lake, we witnessed the water take on a mauve hue before the sun’s rays  finally skimmed over it’s surface. The odd water-fowl and a couple of fishing-boats  made lines across the water .

No one was in a hurrry, knowing the day ahead was relatively easy and the temperatures, as they have been for a week, perfect for cycling. Already, at 7am, there was a comprehensive array of fruit and vegetables set up on a stall  by the roadside, just beyond our camp.

We would see very small stalls during the day, selling either tomatoes or small onions. Soon leaving the irrigated area, we passed through open farmland and savannah. No trouble to report today apart from a couple of incidents caused by locals jumping in the way of the bikes; stone-throwing seems almost a thing of the past.

Ten kilometres before the final distance we had been given, we turned off the tarmac onto a rough track.. This led us for 2 kms. down to the shoreline of Lake Langano. There is a bar, toilets and a few bungalows. The water is the colour of red clay. Spurred on by the absence of bilharrzia and crocs., there were plenty amongst us quick to change and jump in. For others, myself included, thoughts of the scores of other potential parasties in any African fresh water, precluded such rashness.

Those of us who wish to do so, are being given the chance to talk a little to the group about our chosen charity. I gave my name in and will talk tonight before dinner. I was surprised that only two of us have yet volunteered. Surely others will follow suit.

I handed my scanner in today. Remembering to scan in and out each day has become a chore which I sometimes forget. It will be easier to pace myself without any thoughts of competition. The dreaded days of North Kenya are approaching and it seems sensible to prepare. My greatest worry at present is how to get rid of the saddle sores before then. They just will not go away, and it is most uncomfortable sitting down.We must just endure them- there are no butts about it!!

Dist.:111 kms.   Time cycling: 3 hrs. 57   Av.speed: 28.1 kph.

Feb 25 Lake camp to Bush camp.

Adrian is back in Aussie getting his collar-bone pinned; now we have lost Marcel for about 10 days. He badly sprained his wrist in a village collision  yesterday. Eric Defour,who pushed himself so hard to win the time trial in the Blue Nile Gorge, has been struggling to eat, but keeps going. Gilles has not ridden for about a week due to continuing sickness and an achilles problem; we left him pondering his future in Addis.

Today was hillier, but it was always going to be difficult for me as it has become very uncomfortable to sit on the bike.  I rode with Rick most of the pre-lunch and his interesting conversation helped pass the time.

After lunch, we saw mostly tropical forest, where banana trees indicate that this is “managed” forest. Often, the round thatched huts fit in so well that they could be toadstools growing up from the forest floor; smoke that seems to rise from the whole of the roof gives them away.

A few of us stopped at 100 kms. to have a soft drink (4 birre).A boy came round with a plate of mangoes which proved irresistible at 2 birre each.

The medic holds a clinic at 4-5.  She (Caroline) told me tonight that I have an abscess on my bum. She has put me on antibiotics and no riding for 48 hours in the hope that we can avoid having to lance it.

Packed three to four deep against the rope around our compound, there must have been about 300 people tonight, just watching us. Some of our lads  tried to teach them a Mexican wave, which was both comical and unsuccessful.

Feb 26 Mando day.

At about 3 this morning it started raining and never stopped until a break occurred late morning. A couple of riders had to evacuate their tents. Otherwise, we all coped very well.

For those riding, there was 2000m of climbing, through stunning, high, hill country, lush and green, a few poinsettias, cannas and daturas near the roadside.  For the mountain bikers, this was quite a good day. For others, it was very tough. Michael came off his bike on a bend and has road rash. Stuart was involved in a very unpleasant incident. In one of the villages, two men were blocking the middle of the road. Stuart was shouting ahead to them and struck a definite line. Unfortunately, one of the men went the wrong way and there was a collision. Although nothing is broken apart from the helmet, Stuart took a bad fall. Worse followed as one of the men grabbed his bike and threw it to one side and then aimed boxing-kicks at him.

Franz is now getting over the diarrhoea that has plagued him for more than a week, and took the stage. Gisi took the ladies and is looking very strong.

While eating our dinner, there are two soldiers with semi-automatic weapons, patrolling our “border”. It seems so over-the-top; these are just villagers. A soldier and a youth start fighting. When the second soldier comes over to help, the youth breaks off to run, with the first soldier taking short chase and picking up a piece of dung to throw at the same time. Ethiopia should start a cricket team!

Paul, tour leader, told us that tonight is the last night that we will have an audience cordoned off like this.As we move to Kenya in a few days, we are hopeful that the pattern of previous years will persist: namely that the sicknesses and diarrhoea will be left in Ethiopia.

Feb 27 th  In the lunch truck.

The bonus is that the lunch truck has open sides, allowing for open views of spectacular, forested hiilsides, later changing to savannah and then termite country.

At 60 kms. we pull off the road. The five of us riding the truck, help the three TDA staff to get out the trestles, cut the buns, tomatoes and pineapples and de-stone the avocadoes. Janet starts frying the 350 eggs she has ready.

Soon, the first riders come in, and continue for about 2 hours; all are delighted at the prospect of up to 4 eggs each.

With time to kill, I am able to just sit back and take it all in. As the area is less populated than of late, there are only a few locals about. A couple of children are driving a few cattle, seemingly aimlessly, and they stop to watch us. Two of the cows climb a termite mound, not to eat the termites, but to lick the salt that apparently is a by-product.

What looks like a grey cockatoo with a white head, settles on the higher branches of the tree we are sitting beneath. There are so many beautiful birds to see: starlings in a glossy, irridescent blue, masked weavers and waxbills.

The riders have generally appreciated the sunshine again and of course the super scenery; even so, Sunil arrives with torn shorts, having gone over the handlebars after hitting a pothole on a fast downhill section, and Sharita had been forced into a ditch by a lorry.

At Yabello, we camp in the small garden of a simple hotel. Town is 3 kms. down the road, but there is no point in going. There are no restaurants, no internet cafe and nothing of interest. Previous rest days have been  very busy, particularly as we all try to access internet at painfully slow speeds and power failures.   There is food here at the hotel, but very limited and very slow. I did have a hamburger tonight which was very tasty.

A sat. TV allows us to watch Man. City v. Chelsea and then the England v. Ireland rugby game.

I saw Caroline again tonight. She said she had been worried 2 days ago when she saw my abscess, and had been wondering where she could get hold of a surgeon if neccessary. But the antibiotics must be working as she was amazed at the improvement.  She expects me to be able to get back on the bike after the rest day.

There are a few stalls/shacks along from the hotel, selling basic items. There are also several chat rooms, where I noticed a few of our riders. (In the shack, you huddle together around a stack of “chat” and chew away).

Feb. 28th.

Around 10 pm last night, there was thunder and lightning and then a heavy downpour. I felt pampered  in the dryness that my handicapped tent provided and opened a packet of ginger biscuits, left over from Addis, to celebrate.  How we spoil ourselves!!

The rain has eased by the time we get up but never goes away completely all day. The hotel had no food available yet, so I walked across the road. The woman was sweeping the soil of her lean-to clean, as I sat on a plank supported by three stones and ordered a coffee. On the glowing embers of a small coal fire, she soon passed me the small cup of sweet, strong coffee. There is no milk, not even in the hotel. A few locals come in and take unsweetened doughnuts from a plastic bag hanging on a supporting pole.

Back in the hotel, everyone is trying to order  something to eat. There are pancakes, but they immediately run out. I order fried eggs and get scrambled. You just have to be patient and understanding.

A number of riders have taken rooms which are very basic but very cheap; an average price might be £7 with the very cheapest at £4. There again, one person got flooded out in his room while another couple had to erect their tent in the room in order to insulate themselves from an army of insects. Whether you have a room or not, for the majority of riders tomorrow, it will mean putting on wet clothes as there has been no chance whatsoever to dry any of our laundry. That could be the case for a few days as the forecast is for rain and storms. I am in the more fortunate position of having two sets of clothes which are dry!

March 1  Singing wells.

Before leaving after breakfast, as is customary after a rest day, Paul called a riders’ meeting. He advised us of a tough section ahead with tropical storms, unfavourable winds and poor roads. He added with a smile, as I thought I heard, that there would be steaks in camp tonight. However improbable, I believed him. But he had not said steaks, but snakes!

Despite these dire warnings, the road was good a lot of the time, the winds inconsequential and only a bit of drizzle.We climbed up to a high plateau from where we could see, through a pass, the drop down to a plain of startling red, fringed by distant hills with some blue sky. Would we be able to get our laundry dry after all? Crossing this plain, great banks of clouds were rolling in. But when I arrived at camp, the rain had still held off.

Our first task would be to put up our wet tents, change into drier gear and put out the washing. But, at present, the luggage for most of us is on the lunch truck. It was broken down at the lunch stop! As the hours passed, we were all feeling the cold- can you believe it, so near to the equator?. At 5 o’clock, the two runabouts arrived, having transferred the bags from the lunch truck. We quickly formed a line to unload the bags and then scrambled to put up the tents. I pegged my soggy washing to the top of my tent and got inside to change. I had my shorts half off when the call went out,”riders’ meeting!”; at the exact same moment I heard the first drops of rain on the tent.

HOW TO DRY WITHOUT WASHING LINE

Dinner followed straight on from the meeting and then everyone dived in their tents. I have put a change of clothing in my bike bag in the hope that I can take advantage of any dry conditions tomorrow while riding

Tomorrow night we will cross the border into Kenya. The general hope is that we will leave behind the dire (ia) straits suffered during our passage through the beautiful country of Ethiopia.

Dist.:128 kms.  Time cycling: 5 hrs. 24 mins.  Av.speed: 24 kph.

I forgot to  mention that, in this area, rather than sink wells straight down, they dig a wide channel at about 45 degrees to the ground until they hit the water table. The water is passed up by a line of women who sing as they work- hence the name “singing wells”.

March 2 Cross into Kenya.

As yesterday, the morning ride passes through quiet roads, mainly savannah, with the birdsong replacing the “you! you! you!” of the kids. There are some spectacular birds that I do not know the name of, though over my tent tonight there were some birds of a hornbill type.

HORNBILL ABOVE MY TENT, MOYALE, KENYA

For two days now, I have noticed that the women are wearing more colourful garments, unlike the dingy clothing in most of Ethiopia, and they mostly have a stick of sugar cane hanging out their mouth.

At the border, there was little hassle, first to the Ethiopian control for an exit visa, then the Kenyan side for an entry visa.

We are camping on some ground owned by the Kenyan Wildlife Service.There are two showers fed by a tank on the roof. As we shower, women are desperately tying to keep up with carrying water up.

But first, as there is no rain, we all get our laundry out. I walk to the village to join the queue for the only internet cafe. But it is taking 20 mins. just to open the first page. I leave it, go back and change my tyres- we need the fattest we have as  from tomorrow – do some more washing, visit the medic, who is pleased with the progress of my abscess, and then it is time for the riders’ meeting.

It is lovely to be in Kenya. Although this coming week is traditionally the hardest of the trip, we are mostly in good spirits and sufficiently battle-hardened to feel we can take it on.

March 3   Dirt road, direction  Marsabit.

I find it hard to believe that so much tension has disappeared with the hostile environment now behind us. The dirt road is rough but nothing like as bad as we expected (”Wait till tomorrow”, say the TDA staff). I have found that, by moving my seat forwards and sitting more on the top of my legs, and standing on the pedals over the roughest parts I can maintain a decent amount of comfort without affecting the abscess. Today has been so good. There is no spectacular scenery, mainly thorny scrub with the odd mountain in the distant, otherwise very flat. But we feel more like we are in Africa than ever before.

At the camp-site, we are near a very small village; we are actually camping on one of their goat-trails. The children come round our tents inquisitively, but we feel no need to cordon them off. There is a large water hole one one side of us. Two men from the village come over and very respectfully ask that we do not put our bodies in the water.

Putting up my tent, the pole breaks in yet another spot.

I walk over to a large spreading tree overlooking the waterhole. A pleasant breeze wafts me dry. I am sitting to write this blog. Some of the children gather round and want their photos taken. Some goats walk past right in front of me. I should take a look at my bike, but it is very hot now. Luckily, we got to camp before the heat built up. Our riding has been helped by overcast skies. Recent rain has damped down  the dust, So far,very good.

ME AT LAKE CAMPSITE, ETHIOPIA

Distance: 79 kms.  Time cycling: 4 hrs. 10 mins.  Av. speed: 18.5 kph

March 4th.  Lava rock camp.

I could not fasten the zip on the fly curtain last night. I awoke to find the pole broken again.

The first 45 kms. today were tough, very bumpy and rocky, but with some short sections of more even gravel. Within the first few kilometres, a dik dik crossed the road and shortly afterwards I noticed a porcupine scurrying for cover. There were baboons about, but I never saw them; you really had to keep fully focussed on the track in front of you.

The lunch truck was waiting on a small rise from where you could see the track cutting through the barren terrain to the horizon. Barely a vehicle is encountered. Some riders chose not to ride the afternoon and got in the truck. We had been warned that conditions would get progressively harder during the day, and this was certainly the case.

I stopped to tighten my seat and was surprised to see a car slowly pass, with Spanish number plates. I caught it up; this was not hard as they were two girls from San Sebastian, and one of them was moving stones out of the way as the other drove forwards. They had seen us in Ethiopia, they said. It was very pleasant to exchange a few words in Spanish.

Our camp site is on this plain, lava rocks and boulders sprinkled all over the ground. On the horizon, we can see both dust clouds and storm clouds brewing. By the time I had got my soup, the dust storm had arrived, but only lasted a few minutes.

Tonight is the first time in my new tent. Worryingly, Rod says it looks identical to his “Weekender”. It is a 3 man tent and so has much more room. It seems OK to me.

Tomorrow will be 85 kms. of the hardest conditions. I was worried enough about making it today; when I awoke this morning, my back felt like a board. After plenty of stretches and some paracetamol, I was fine, though I got to camp very tired and dehydrated. It is so difficult to drink enough when the water is hot. I tried pretending I was drinking weak tea, but I could not convince myself.

So I am quite concerned about tomorrow. It will be a long day in temperatures that will pass 40 degrees.  It will not be fun, interesting, stimulating or physically beneficial. The only reason I will be on my bike is for the sake of Thamsanqa, with respect to those of you who have donated and in the hope of more donations to come. I will give it my best shot.

March 5th. Final day into Marsabit.

I rose at 5am to clean and oil my chain and generally get prepared. We are not able to start breakfast before 7 am, but in this heat, as soon as you can after that, you want to leave.

Within the first few kilomatres, 3 riders got in the truck. It was proving very hard to stay on the bike as you pushed through the loose stones and many of us fell. One rider had to be taken to hospital, skinning his elbow to the bone.

A short distance from where the lunch truck was waiting, there was a coke stop, the only one all day. Like vultures we descended on the place and stripped them clean of all their cold drinks. They had very little change and were trying to make up the difference by urging chipattis on us!

A few kilometres after lunch, the combination of heat and tiredness was making me unsafe on the bike and I joined the group on the truck.  Half the riders ended up in the truck today .

Up at the front, there are about 6 riders who are battling it out each day for the stage win. Franz won today. Simon missed the finishing line and ended up doing 110 instead of 85 kms.

We are camping tonight and tomorrow, a rest day, in the grounds of a Catholic school, run by Sisters. Town is a couple of kms. down the road so most of us were happy to pay 300 Kenyan shillings, about £4, for a meal they cooked for us. I think they were surprised not to have cooked enough to satisfy our hunger.

March 6^th. Rest day in Marsabit.

At 4.30 this morning, the rain started. I was so happy that my tent did not leak, that I was not one of the clever ones who rushed out their tents and got their washing in off the line!

The Sisters of Nazareth had agreed to do us a breakfast at 7.30; they must have been mildly surprised to find us queueing up under the eaves of the building, out of the rain at 7.15, For 200 shillings, there was a boiled egg each, bread margarine and jam, with coffee and tea.

There was no other way to get to town than walk. The tracks had become a quagmire through which even our bikes would not get through. Soon after setting off, the TDA 4 wheel drive pulled up with two riders inside. Was I glad of the lift!  But we got a hundred yards, and the vehicle could not get further. So we got out again to walk, along with others of our group, most of them in flip-flops.

Our trousers were like mobile downspouts well before getting to town, but not cold. At the internet café, someone accompanied me to a little shop where I was able to buy some dry trousers.

The Kenyan people are as I remember them from holidays many years ago.They have a naturally friendly smile, a demeanour that lacks any hint of malice or intent.  And the trousers fit just fine!

You might be interested to know a little more about some of the other riders. Take Rainer, for instance. At 69, he is the only one my senior. He is as tough as they come, with an unbendable will. He was only 10 kms. from completing yesterday. I have asked him in the past what keeps him going; he told me it was just his crazy mind!  Generally, the reasons for doing this trip are a mixture of wanting to raise money for a good cause, and the need for a challenge that surpasses anything else previously experienced. Relations within the group are constantly changing. I have yet to feel a deep sense of camaraderie amongst the riders. I would say that we are more of a friendly bunch of strong individuals at this moment. When the camaraderie kicks in, I imagine it will be paralleled by a touch of tension also, between different individuals. This will always be a fight with ourselves, rather than a collective effort.

The rain has stopped outside. Hopefully the washing will dry off, and the rain soak away to allow us a decent chance tomorrow.

Best wishes,

Eric

ethiopian highlands

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.

blue nile gorge

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.

Highlights of the day;

1 Young lad, maybe 8-10, stops, while carrying a massive load of straw on his head, to wave.

2 Vultures, by the side of the road, pick a recently-dead animal clean.

3 Young boy, on his own, picks up a stone while I am still 50m. away; as I approach, he waves, I wave back. As soon as I pass, I look behind and he is ready to throw.

4 Passing a bus at 60 kph while viewing the panorama below.

5 Lads holding on to a wooden rail while rubbing leather skins with their feet.

6. Young girl wants me to stop to buy a bunch of onions- customer research needed?

Dist.  111kms.   (Lost other details).

Leaving Gondar in an outpouring of friendliness has to be the overriding emotion.  During our 2 days’ stay in the town, the hotel could be forgiven for it’s lack of constant hot water, the electricity going off, the shower door coming off its hinges, the indifferent food, just for the wonderful view of the town and it’s surrounds as you exit the spacious lobby and walk onto the terrace. But then you add in the genuine, I mean “not money-seeking”, helpfulness of the hotel porters, who even wanted to help me clean my bike, and you might appreciate the kind of people they are.

Alright, I was hit by a stone in the body, which did not hurt at all, and several other riders had problems. (A week ago, two boys were seen were slingshots, which could be a worrying developement). It also riles you that you are trying to acknowledge the wonderful reception you are being given, which can become quite tiresome when it is unending, and you are thrown at. But for every bad one there are hundreds who look you in the eye and are so thrilled by a wave, who will sprint across a field just to wave to you, who will stand in a group and clap you.

You may already know about “chat”, their green gold. It is grown in great quantities in Ethiopia, and is chewed by a lot of people for its drug-like properties. . There is more than one way to get stoned. It is not a trip I am about to take!

For some of us, the last few days, and indeed still today, the onset of fever, diarrhoea and vomiting, has proved most disagreeable. For the rest of us, today has been perhaps the best day so far- two tough climbs, but otherwise super cycling in warm conditions through mountain scenery made more interesting by the human activity, rather than massacred.  About 3000BC, oxen were first hitched to a wooden plough to till the Nile valleys; 5000 years later, they are still doing it.  It has been very relaxing.

Our only concern centres on the drove of kids that come right up to the rope of our little enclosure. One girl has already been seen coming out of one of the tents during the riders’ meeting. So tonight, it could be a case of putting all our gear in our tents for those of us who have no lockers until the dinner truck is mended.

Tomorrow is a supremely easy day, 60kms into Bathir Dar.

Feb 15th. Bathir Dar.

Dist.: 58kms.   Time cycling: 2 hrs.16   Av.speed: 25.7

I laughed yesterday evening when one of the riders, Rod Atkinson, a very organised person, explained how he had made a mistake with his tent; it was already starting to tear. He said he should have known better – it is called “The Weekender”!!

This morning, the joke was on me. I had got up at 5.15, used the toilet, and started to dismantle the tent. One of the two poles snapped. I do have one repair sleeve, which I used, but to what long-term effect?

We also found out last night, that there are 14 riders still EFI, ie they have so far cycled every fabulous inch.

The light, hilly ride to Bathir gave us the opportunity take in more of our surroundings. There are many trees and shrubs growing wild that we pay good money for in Spain. In Bathir itself, there are palms, hibiscus, oleander, and bougainvillea. The hip-moving, short-stepped gait of the professional walking athletes is exactly that used by the men – and boys-  who can be seen carrying huge bundles of straw on their heads for long distances. There were quite a number of little gravel -making operations. It seems that a lorry drops off rocks. A young man breaks them into smaller pieces with a sledge hammer. Then a host of people go back and forth with plastic tubs, carrying the stones up a high wooden ramp. They drop them into a small, rock-crusher which churns out the gravel. When a lorry requires filling, it is hand-shovelled up into the vehicle.

Riding into Bathir, we cross the Blue Nile which feeds Lake Tana.

Our camp is at a hotel. Some, especially those not well, have taken rooms. Most of the rest of us have set up our tents on a third-floor terrace. As I put strain on my mended pole, it snapped in two places, either side of the new sleeve. To the rescue Rick Gervais!  Ever-willing to help others out, he used some spare sleeves he had, rearranged the parts, and with duct-tape got into one piece. For now at least it is working.

After changing my tires to slicks and doing the washing, I walked up the street to a little wood and canvas drinks place with an earthen floor and had two juice mixers. I believe you get these only in Ethiopia. Three fruits, in this case pineapple, avocado and papaya, are juiced and placed on each other in a glass. They are delicious! (Cost is 6 birre, about 30 pence).

Tomorrow a number of us are paying $20 for a boat-trip and guided tour to the 14thc. monasteries on islands in the lake. I chose to walk a path to the lake and get an idea of how it looked. A young student started to talk to me, his name is Tadesse. He wanted to keep in contact, so I gave him my email address.

As I write this, I am drinking Tej, a local wine made with honey.  I was told it contained no alcohol; well it certainly seems to have a kick!

I want to emphasise how welcome your comments are; they really help to keep me going. I wish there was more time, so that i could acknowledge each and every one. I hope you will understand that it is taking a lot of time to keep up the blog, and I always intended that the blog would be central to me doing this trip. So please tell me if i am writing about issues that are of no interest or if there is something I should be adding in.

Feb.16th. Rest day in Bathir Dar.

Smog has the same effect as mist; the view over Lake Tana, 3rd. largest in Africa, left much to the imagination. The shoreline remains undeveloped.  We have a one hour ride by a small motor launch, to see one of the 37 working monasteries on or by the lake. A white line on the horizon becomes a colony of pelicans. A fisherman in a papyrus boat paddles the opposite way.

The monasteries maintain a tradition that is based not only on the bible, but on all other holy books, or apocrypha. These are stunningly depicted in paintings on canvas, covering the Holy of Holies in one of these monasteries. The Holy of Holies is square-shaped, perhaps 10m. square, and houses a faithful copy of the Ark of the Covenant. The original is in Axum. Only one person can ever see it. Before he dies, this privilege, or duty, is passed on to another.

Food:

If you ask for fast food here, it is not a hamburger. For the 2 months before their Easter, they abstain from meat completely. Thus fast food is what you see on the injera in the photo.

Last night I went to a local place and asked for macaroni off their menu. 15 mins. later, still waiting, i ordered a beer. Someone knocked it all over me, saturating the front of my only long pants.  I went to wash them, hoping nobody thought I had wet myself. For speed, I decided to eat in the hotel restaurant and ordered grilled fish and vegetables. Half an hour later, nothing. I asked again and 10 mins. later it arrived, stone-cold. I sent it back and waited another 5mins. this time when it arrived, the fish was warm, the veg. still cold. An insect was rushing from the veg. to the fish, perhaps for warmth. But this fish was one of the tastiest I have EVER had.

Emboldened by the experience, I tried to repeat the pleasure at lunch today in one of the backstreets. The fish was in batter, and without any exaggeration,  the fish was totally anonymous. Still hungry, I went across the road and asked for an omelette. Over half an hour and I was ready to leave. But when it arrived, rich in texture and sprinkled with fresh garlic, it was divine. Patience is obviously rewarded.

Charity

I rose at 5am this morning and went for a walk. Even that hour, white clothed figures flitted through the dark streets. In the backstreets, i saw a few women, cooking over charcoal fires, probably preparing injera. At 6, I sat for a coffee and got talking to a local lad. As a UN vehicle passed, he mentioned “Save the Children” and then said, “Save the money, kill the children!” Shocked, I asked what he meant. He explained that it was a common phrase in Ethiopia, referring to how so much money that is sent from abroad stays in the first hands that touch it.

Tomorrow we head for Addis Ababa, four days that will include the ascent of the Nile gorge.

Best wishes,

Eric.

The football team did not turn up! But, instead, our guys played against the under-17 Sudan national side! Needless to say, they saw little of the ball and some of the older players will be feeling the effects for a few days!

I had to go back to town to retrieve a camera cable I had left. Once there, I sauntered over to a busy stretch where there are many little eateries. The main ones are set back well from the road with the intervening space, rough packed earth, is heaving with little stalls and women selling tea  or coffee from tiny tables. The debris is dry underfoot, caustic smoke curls up from charcoal grills, serving whole chicken, doner kebab, fried perch and sardines.

I chose a little place where i was given a tin bowl into which was put a kind of mincemeat from a silver urn with a neck just big enough for a ladle,covered with grated cheese, egg and peppers, with a dash of oil over the top (2 sud.pounds, about 50 pence). No cutlery is used; it is usual to use the 2 bread rolls you are given. Sudanese bread is amongst the best in the world.

I have been eating the local food and drinking their water, in Sudan especially, and I have no problem.   A no. of guys isolated themselves in hotels, paying up to 150 $US for a questionable 3 *.

The air is relatively cool after the desert. I decide to have a tea. The woman motions me to take a seat; she laughs as I sit on a stool 6″ from the ground. She points to another, perhaps 9″ from the ground!.

For once, I felt still, and able to take in objectively the frantic nature of my surroundings. For a few minutes, I no longer felt alien. Absorbing the last of twilight’s theatre, I watched the stage set change as many little fires and lights took over the job. I decided to walk the 2kms. back to camp.

There is nothing to really delight the casual tourist here. Do not look for culinary delights. But if you are bold and prepared to reach out, these are a people that want to be visited and themselves thought of favourably. However, with English rarely spoken, it is difficult to know who likes you and who resents you. Yesterday, I addressed a man in a clean white robe. At first, he completely ignored me. When I repeated the question, a few words twitched from the corner of his mouth, his head not turning in my directipon.

Conversely, a young man, with very poor English, enquired where I was from. When I said Liverpool, he proceeded to write for me the name of his cousin, and his mobile no., because he was living in Liverpool.

Feb 5.  Friday

“Remember, in Africa cyclists have no rights!” So we were warned again by tour leader, Paul, this morning. The road out from Khartoum is very busy, with many buses and large lorries. For every driver who will stick his head out and smilingly urge you on, there is another who will unthinkingly drive you off the road.

On the flat, featureless plain, there are signs of agriculture on a bigger scale, though few crops in at the moment.

Apart from the traffic, today should have been a comfortable ride. The temperatures have moderated after leaving the desert, the roads are flat,if somewhat bumpy at times. After the 80 kms. lunch stop, I continued on my own.  At about 130 kms., I passed a coke stop where the riders in the leading group had stopped.  There was no point in stopping, I reasoned, as they would  be setting off again in a moment.. So I kept going and  they shouted out encouragement, which I thought a nice touch.  It meant I would finish in 4th place if i stayed ahead of them. Camp should have been at 162 kms. I kept looking and did not see it. Paul had said that this was a new stop for them too and that they would try to stop by the Nile.  (We have been near the Nile all day, though seeing it briefly only twice; the give-away was the no. of small villages we passed on the way.)

So I kept going, hoping that they had chosen to carry on further than they had intended.

Ten, fifteen kms. more…surely they would not add so much to the day? At 20 kms. extra, I came to a small town and crossroads. This could not be right. Pulling into a petrol station for a coke, I tried to find out if riders had gone through. A group of locals tried so hard to help but the language barrier was too much. I had to turn back, if only to meet up with later riders. As I exited the forecourt, there was Eric Defour.   He had seen me go pass the finishing flag 20 kms. back and had chased after me. What a guy! I can only presume that lorries passsing in the other direction had prevented me from seeing it.   After a few kms. we met up with Tony Nestor; he also had missed the flag.  So, instead of coming in 4th., I will probably be 34th.! (You have to scan out at camp).

At the riders meeting tonight, we were both presented with TDA Head down Awards.  Waiting for the Riders meeting at 5.30, I was chatting to a few others and found Stephanie Sleen’s account of her work very interesting.  She takes problem teenagers, who are either in jail or heading that way, camping in Alaska for 50 day stretches.  She must be a toughie.  Each night, three of us are detailed to scrub the huge cooking  pots ; tonight I was among them.  A  group of locals watched the circus that had arrived on their doorstep with fascination.

Sadly, Laura de Somer had an accident today.  A young lad had run out in front of her.  She went over the handlebars and was concussed. At the local hospital, her head was quickly x-rayed and she was allowed to leave, but had to be driven to camp.  So she loses her EFI status, the most important prize for most of us.

Distance: 202 kms   Time cycling: 6 hrs. 20   Av. speed: 31.9 kph.

Feb 6

The day started ominously in heavy traffic, the road  severely potholed for a while.  I saw Franz by the roadside; his bag had broken loose. In front of me in this stretch were a few riders.  I saw Adam perform a dramatic leap as he came upon a metre-long pothole unseen; he lifted the bike and thrust forward just gaining the other side and correcting his balance magnificently.

The road improved and was comfortable. At the 125 kms. mark, we came up to a roundabout where there were cameras, people cheering and clapping.  From this point on, at every village, hundreds of people lined the road; you could see them from far off, and yet more running from their huts to join in. You could have been a on a state visit, the reception that was being given. I high-fived as many of the outretched hands as I could, but it was tiring.

Now compare that with the experience of riders coming later….one lad wanted to report the behaviour to his embassy!  Rocks had been thrown, some riders jostled and a seatpost grabbed. It seems that the kids get a little over-excited and if you are not reciprocating, they can get a little nasty.

It is understandable for some of the riders to be nervous.  There were incidents yesterday that I have only just found about. There were 3 falls yesterday, each resulting in broken helmets: Laura of course, who actually hit a 40 yr. old man full on at 38 kph. Dan Johnson and Katja were run off the road and fell badly.

Getting in to camp today, we had an extra job to do- change our tyres, most of us anyway. After starting on tarmac tomorrow, we will progress on to off-road. This could be a very interesting and welcome change. We are heading into the Dinder National Park, where we are assured of seeing some wildlife.

We were just finishing our dinner;  there had been some emotional talk about the difficulties of the day As we sat here, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, a few men would pass by, small groups of women carrying firewood, with nowhere to go in sight. then a coach draws up. First well-dressed women get out, followed by young men, many in karate outfits. They proceeded to give us a a display of karate and gymnastics before circulating amongst us. They were from the local village and wanted to welcome us!

Distance; 163 kms.  Time cycling: 5 hrs 20   Ave. speed: 31.2

NB   to follow exactly where we are at any time, go to www.findmespot.com. In the RH bottom corner, click on “spot adventure” where you see a grey boot print. When you get the chance to print a name, print Jason Becker. He is one of the riders.

Feb 7th.  EFI or bust.

After 45 kms on the tarmac, we made our first foray on to the off-road, which would take us through isolated villages. Each village has a chief, several villages coming under the control of an overall chief who has government authority to pass judgements in his own court and maintain a small force.

The immensity of the rich fertile land stretches to the horizon in every direction, only isolated thorny acacias breaking up the monotony.

Riders were no longer riding in groups. Alone, some 20 minutes down the track, I came across an old man, some women and children and mules. They were pumping water from a borehole. As I came to a halt, I signalled to the old man that I would like to take a photo. He nodded. By now, the children- and the women- had got behind the donkeys, peering out, clearly afraid. Perhaps they had never seen a white person before; no other riders had passed through there…I was heading in the wrong direction!

at the borehole

A while later, I came across Lynn and Gisi, who had got there by a different route, but were concerned that they might have gone wrong.  Gisi was mending a puncture.  So sure I was on the right road,  I continued till past the 75 kms. mark where the lunch truck should have been waiting.  I now realised something was wrong.  I decided to ring Paul, the tour leader.  But first Patrick and Wayne appeared. They still felt they were alright and pushed on. Then Gisi and Lynn arrived, followed by Andra. I now rang Paul. It was about noon. He said they knew we were missing and had three vehicles out looking for us. Stay put.

Anxiously we waited, Gisi and I in particular, as we did not want to lose our EFI status and time was running out.  Three trucks passed us over the next 2 hours, each giving us a different direction to Azaza, our destination.

I rang Paul to tell him that we were heading back to an intersection where we thought we might have made the wrong turn. He wasn’t happy but acceded.  On our way there, one of the vehicles met us.  We filled up with water; they had mango, oranges and bananas which we scoffed.  By phone, Paul agreed that this vehicle could take us back to where we went wrong, we could start cycling, and if we got to camp before dark, we would still have our EFIs.  As we rattled along we ate bread rolls and cheese spread, gorgeous.

Andra decided against cycling any more.  Three of us set off at 2.45 to cover the 80 kms. along the rough tracks.

Passing through the occasional village had a certain charm, the smell and sight of domestic animals and children running about. But as we were tiring, they became a distraction.  Each of us doubted we would make it, without actually saying so for the sake of morale.

With 40 kms. to go, Lynn told us to carry on; she would wait for the sweeper truck.  (There was a mix-up and she ended up getting a local truck, very frightened).

race against the clock

Now we were two, silently pedalling as fast as we could in a race against time.  The sun went down with 15 kms. to go. I urged Gisi to keep going, I would have a pee. I knew i was now holding her back a little.I took off my shirt and ate an orange. I felt revitalised. A group of children were running out from the village towards me.  No time to hang about!  I pushed for all I was worth..  Night had descended when the sweeper truck came up behind. I said i was Ok and they followed me for the last few kms., their lights helping me to find my way. Before entering camp, I heard the banging of plates and dishes.  Entering camp, there were villagers and all the riders standing  to clap me in.  It was a moment I shall never forget.

Paddy made me a cup of tea, and he and Eric Defour helped me put up my tent.  Their support meant a lot. What i now would have liked more than anything was a warm shower.  I had to make do with two baby wipes.

Dist.:165 kms (of which, 45 on tarmac)   Time cycling: 8hrs. 8 mins.Av. speed:20.8

Feb 8th.   Dinder massacre.

The day started with great promise. We were 45 kms. from entering the Dinder National Park, with the promise of plenty of wildlife- lions, giraffes, buffalo…what a treat lay ahead.  The tracks to the gate were harder than expected and the noon sun was blazing by the time I arrived there with several other riders in close proximity.  We were told to keep in groups of no less than three.  We had 95 kms. ahead of us, so we presumed there must be some good trails to take us through the park.

Dry Dinder riverbed, heading towards the Dinder Park

It was plain awful.  Heavy corrugation and/or thick fine dust kept speeds down to 10 kph;  there were lots of falls as the dust sucked the tires out of control. Would we even make the lunch truck at 70 kms.?   Some decided early on they could not carry on and got in the truck when the chance was there.  Anyone on front suspension was faring better, but nevertheless struggling.  A TDA vehicle came towards us, passing along the riders to say that the camp would be at 118, not 140 kms., a ray of hope!  Also, there was a borehole at 60 kms. where we could get water. When i arrived at the borehole with Lani, there were two vehicles already with riders inside.  Lani got in too.

I filled up my bottles and wet my head from the borehole, and sat against a tree.

Without warning, my eyes filled up and I fought to hold the tears back. The effort was telling.  Shakily, I got back on my bike and made it to the lunch truck.

A number of riders were already there, some deciding they could not carry on.  The temperature at 12.30 had been 41 and it was now hotter. I felt totally drained by the heat and the ghastly track.  I couldn’t eat for a while, needing to rest.  It took me an hour to rehydrate and feel  some strength return.

There is always a TDA member riding at the back of the last rider. This afternoon, it was the turn of Caroline, the medic.I asked her to wait for me, as i wanted to try to carry on.

To begin with, i was managing. I passed Dan J. and then Steph and Erin. But i could not hold the bike in the loose dirt. I fell a few times. when I banged my knee, about 10 kms. after the lunch truck, my resolve broke.  I sat under a tree in a small copse, my chin on my chest. I was conscious of dry leaves rustling to the ground around me from dessicated trees.

Soon, Erin and Steph appeared, determined to go on. Minutes later, the sweep truck arrived.  Dan had already got in with the rest. My EFI was lost.

We now crawled behind Erin, Steph and Caroline. There were now 2 pick-ups full of riders and bikes. Paul had realised the disaster that was unfolding and managed to acquire an open truck.

One of the pick-ups got a flat and looked to have a bent axle. We transferred to the truck in the hope of getting to camp earlier. As we rattled along, other riders had to get in. In the dark, Paul was ordering riders to get in.  A few felt they could still do it and wanted the chance, but Paul was right.   It was still too far.

Our truck conked out a couple of times, but got us to a dry river crossing. We crossed on foot to where the lunch truck was waiting to ferry us to camp. The bikes would come later.

Amazingly, 10-15 riders had made the distance! Marcel, despite 2 flats, came in third. Simon came in first, but narrowly lost the stage to Franz who had set out later than him. Young Steven and Adam made it. So also did Reuben and Catherine. But even the leaders had been out for more than 11 hours.

And all we saw was a few baboons.

(It was 12 midnight before I lay down to sleep and forgot to take note of my times,perhaps as well!)

Feb 9th.  Gradual burn-out.

Today was down as 102 off-road and 30 on tarmac. We were led to believe that the off-road would be similar to yesterday, so half the riders just got in the truck.

I set off as early as I could and the first 25 kms. were OK. After that, it became variable; one section of about a km., we had to walk it. It was like a roughly ploughed field.

The Sudanese are very much animal herders. Passing though the flat expanse of fields that had grown sorghum and maize, there were a number of small herds of cows being slowly moved around. These people were from  quite a distinct tribe, their rich clothing betraying a certain wealth. I was cycling with Sunil, our computer whizz-kid, Gilles, Paddy, and Rod and Julianne, strong riders. I arrived first at the lunch stop but the truck had not arrived. The leader riders had already gone ahead to do the whole day on just energy bars rather than wait. I only had to wait 10 mins and the truck arrived. The riders inside gave a hand and soon there was something to eat. The sun was scorching, you had to get under the tarpaulin.

Distinct tribe moving cattle

Since losing EFI, and having bad times through getting lost, my strategy has changed. Try to just finish each day without incident. Apart from the keen racers, this now seems to be general policy among the riders.

After 12 kms. we hit a large village, where we had a coke. I told the others that I would follow on. I wanted to go my own pace.

Leaving the village, kids were running behind. I noticed one little girl kiss her hand and blow me the kiss;  quite surprising and touching.

The temperature was similar to that of the desert, with no shade. Every few kilometres, I stopped and sat with my back to the sun against a tree trunk, until I felt my temperature drop and then I could carry on.

On one of these stops, Adam caught me up. Not surprisingly after his effort yesterday, he was on empty. We shared a grapefruit he had.

Later we were caught by Georgie and Mark, who had ridden the truck till lunch, and Gisi, Rainer,(who is 69!), and Anneke.The stony track matched our faces.

The tarmac should have started at 102. We hit it at 105. There was a shop to get cool drinks and still time to get back before dark.

Hardy was with us now and looking quite strong. I was slumping over the handlebars.  Anneke drafted me for a while, but when the lunch truck came past, with only 15-20 kms. to go, I reluctantly got in.

Once at camp, I saw Catherine receiving attention for exhaustion. She looked terrible.The leader riders had arrived exhausted; Marcel told me that he was cramping badly and was getting double vision.

We are on the border with Ethiopia. We have to go to the immigration office to get out passports stamped with an exit visa. But first we have to put up our tents, get our baggage out of the lorries and have some food. At the riders’ meeting we were given news of Jos. About 5 days ago, he was noticeably quiet and had not put up his tent. He told another rider that he felt confused. He had been seen earlier, near a railway crossing, getting up slowly. He doesn’t remember anything of it. He was taken to Khartoum hospital; where the neural surgeon examined him. Although there was no bleeding in the brain, he had severe concussion. After a few days rest, he was going to be sent to Addis for more rest and, hopefully to re-join us on the trip.

Camp on Ethiopia border

There are 2 toilet/shower sheds at this camp; one is completely blocked, so there was a queue to use the other.

I walked into the village, where, typically, people are lounging on chairs or a type of simple, framed hammock, drinking tea or coffee in the half-light, outside one of the many little tea stalls or stands. I sat on one of these hammocks and had a cardamom tea and a sponge cake, while watching the locals. I could so easily have stretched out on the hammock and gone to sleep, for ever.

It was late to bed again. I had not had time time to change my tires back to slicks. Tomorrow we enter Ethiopia and start climbing.

Dist.:127 kms. Time cycling:7 hrs. 48 mins.   Av. speed:16.4 kph

Feb. 10th. Recovery ride- in the truck.

Last night, eleven riders hired a mini-bus to take them straight to Gonder.   At lunch today, another five decided to hitch a lift to Gonder on a lorry.

Getting up at 6 am., we had to go straight after breakfast to the border control down the road and wait to go through. Each passport has to be checked against a list, three pages long, of undesirables, not in alphabetical order.  It takes about 15 mins. to process each passport. After an hour of waiting, Paul told us to go on, hope not to be stopped, and he would bring the passports on later.

Rolling hills on beautiful tarmac, leading to the mountainous highlands- really quite pretty, the sort of riding I would normally relish. the day had been declared a non-race day, in recognition that everyone was just beat up. So no one was rushing.  But I could get no pace at all. Two nights with insufficient sleep on top of some hard days had not allowed me recovery time.  At the lunch truck I got in with Jeff and Diane. They are a lovely couple from Aspen, who spend a lot of time cycling, although Jeff still runs a media company. They are good company, but conservation was limited as I kept dropping off. The truck stopped half-way to camp to take on water. The clean water did not turn up, so the team bought water that locals were taking from the stream by donkey; they pumped it through the lorry’s purification system and then into the tank behind the lorry.

Camp was in a field near some huts. With mountains all around us, the sound of donkeys, cattle and cockerels in our ears, we prepared our tents while children came up to the rope set around our camp, watching our every move. We were told to lock our bikes and remove everything possible. I got to bed as quickly as possible and slept for 10 hours.

Feb.11th   One lorry and one rider down.

Unzipping my tent, my first sight was of donkeys cavorting acrosss the field. honking loudly; cows were booming, they do not “moo” here, and village life in the beautiful highlands was already on the go.

A few yards from my tent, a young boy was watching his baby goat. Sounds alright, doesn’t it?

Well, when you suddenly find yourself surrounded by half a dozen of the little buggers as you try to pack your stuff up, it is not fun. One of my water bottles went missing- they are so quick.

Today was a mando day, deemed one of the most difficult of the trip: a long climb, a steep descent, and then ups and downs taking us to an eventual altitude of about 2500m. I felt so much better after a good sleep, but I admit that, after buckling over the last 2 days, I was scared of the day ahead.

The slow speeds of the long climb, everyone at their own pace, enabled us to enjoy the subtle pale hues of the mountain scenery, contrasting with the strong green of the many trees that mocked the tinder-dry ground.

Huts and shacks of wood, and some tin, ranged over the hillsides, not just in small villages. Little alotments growing a few vegetables, ploughing with oxen, everywhere paople and animals on the move, carrrying sacks, water, firewood and tef. Tef is the staple cereal unique to Ethiopia. It is cut and stacked in clumps, someimes off the ground on the branches of large trees. At some point it is spread on the ground for oxen to trample on, thus separating the small seed from the straw. This is then scooped up with large, shallow bowls, thrown up in the air for the wind to blow away the dust and chaff and then stored.  The seed is somehow fermented and made into a nutritious pancake called “injera”.

Forty kms. brought us to a large village at the end of the long climb. It seemed that everyone from the surrounding countryside was coming into town to sell or buy. Animals and people crossed the road without warning.

Descending from this village, there was a constant stream of people and animals, like a WW2 evacuation.. The descent was very fast, through relaxing countryside. Bignonia flowers bloomed by the roadside. Before reaching the bottom, there was the dinner-truck, curiously parked up with stones in front of the wheels.

The lunch truck was at about 62 kms. I came in with Jason, a graphics designer, and Jenny, who has a background in book publishing. Soon we were followed in by Eric Defour and Gilles, both suffering from swollen Achilles’ tendons, Paddy, who looked all in, and Erin. No longer is there much talk of ” awesome”, more of survival!

Although motor traffic is light, you are always passing somebody on the road or in the fields tending animals. Everyone wants to engage with a “you!you!you!you!you!”, (usually spat out 5 times), “hello”, “where you from” or “where you go”- occasionally followed by a stone.

Hardy, a strong and experienced German rider, with a congenial manner, rode up behind with Anneke, so we cycled together. As the dinner truck had not passed us, there was no rush, our gear would not be at camp. Cycling slowly, we stopped at a thriving village, 35 kms. from camp, for a cool drink.  Quickly we were surrounded by a fascinated audience. As I was getting my wallet out of my bag, a mule cart carrying long spars of treewood, turned near me. One of the spars stuck out at an angle to the cart and rammed me up the backside.  I did not realise till later, after I had become aware of people laughing as I cycled by, that it had ripped a hole in the seat of my pants.

Laura, courageously back on her bike after her trauma, joined us to pass through Gonder, up the steep hill to the Goha Hotel, where we would camp.

Only now did we learn what had occurred. Firstly, Adrian, the 27 year old Australian, vying for pole position. Speeding through a village at 67kph., he had hit a pedestrian. he was concussed and broke his collar-bone. He will be out for a month. The lorry had been negotiating the fast descent, with five riders in the back, when the brakes failed. The driver managed to maintain control, using the engine to bring the vehicle to a halt; in the process, a hole was torn in the side of the engine.

With no prospect of our gear arriving soon, I decided to book into the hotel. A clean bed, shower and toilet with soap and towel to myself, space, and plugs to charge my electricals- I suddenly felt elated. I borrowed shorts and shirt from Michael Prudden, one of the riders who had come on ahead. As it happened, no more than an hour passed before our gear arrived. The TDA team had opened all the lockers and stashed the gear into an open truck. This promptly broke down. They transferred it into another truck and got it here.

Paul has decided to give us 2 rest days here instead of one, for us to recuperate. One cycling day will be chopped by taking a shorter route somewhere in Ethiopia.We all have cuts and bruises to some degree, saddle sores and a feeling of general weariness. But the mood is of resilience, optimism, and gratitude that we are able to endure this experience.

Dist.: 102.6 kms. Time cycling :6 hrs 18   Av.speed: 16kph.

Tomorrow we start 2 days on tarmac before hitting the off-road. There will be 7 days riding before the next rest day.

So what does one do on a rest day? Well I treated myself to breakfast in bed at 7am. I had a banana left over from yesterday, and also half a roll from some grub last night. Feeling relaxed after a good sleep, I then walked over to the communal taps to finish the washing; I spent an hour at it yesterday.  Already, Diane and Julianne were there doing theirs.

That done, I emptied my tent and swept out the accumulated desert sand, before cleaning with water and detergent. Likewise, I had to treat my duffel bag and toilet bag as I had had a leaking bottle.

Now I felt able to go for a coffee.  I told the man that in Spain we get a little biscuit with our coffee.  He took a small packet off the shelf and gave it to me gratis.  The little things.

Back to my tent. Someone had found a plug that worked. There were several but some had holes blocked off or you couldn’t get the pins in. This one worked. Charging up is so critical for us on rest days.  We all want to take photos, use our laptops and phones.

While they were charging, I was able to spend a good hour cleaning and inspecting my bike.

All the meanwhile, there are Sudanese boys all around playing football.  This a National Camping Residence and there seem to be a lot of football teams taking part in a local tournament.  They like to practice their English with you and are generally well-mannered. Sometimed they cross the line, as happened this morning when one cheeky youth  felt Michelle’s bum. She quickly told them just to back off and it was OK again.  He had a mischievous smile on his face!

We are not sure whether what we crossed yesterday was the confluence or not.  If we can today, some of us will get a tuk-tuk to investigate. But always the internet gets priority over everything.

In general, I am feeling strong and healthy.  The riding can be difficult, under conditions you are not used to, but we are  all adapting well.  Pivotal to everything we do is discipline; to keep a healthy routine with personal hygiene and a positive attitude. Somebody whingeing all the time would be a drain on us all.  I have not come across anybody bemoaning their situation.

Some of the riders book into a hotel at every opportunity i.e. every rest day. You can see a country by flying over it; you can see more driving through it.  Cycling gets us a bit closer still and the tenting brings us a bit more into contact with the locals and the conditions in which a lot of them live.  This is particularly true with the toilets and washing facilities.  Some of the toilets where we have camped have been atrocious: totally stained, broken tilework, pipes spewing out water, and filth. You hope to avoid this by booking into a hotel.  But this trip is not about pampering ourselves. We are not tourists.

Some of the younger riders have arranged to play a match against one of these Sudanese teams later on.  Martijn I believe has been the “fixer”.  Certainly I want to go and watch this, watch not play.

Forgive me if I have been long-winded but I do not expect we will have internet now for at least a week.  As we pass through Ethiopia it will become more difficlt.

By the way, the previous blog (Khartoum Calling) has now been updated and photos added.

Best wishes,

Eric.

Jan 31 Dead camel Camp

The camel was here last year, exactly the same.   It sums up my idea of what life must be like here- brutal,unchanging and not for the uninitiated.

Dead Camel Camp

We left the already -fading novelty of Dongola for the 142kms ride.  The air had an element of freshness first thing, and all the racers seemed keen to try their hand. But the air temperature rises quickly. By the lunch stop at about 10am., it was already very hot;  some riders would get here much later when there would be about 40 degrees. The incentive to go hard is more about getting to camp and finding some shade.

Evening at Dead Camel Camp

The last 18 kms. today were awful. I dropped back from the little group I was with.  It felt like cycling into the mouth of a hairdryer.  This is flat, sandy desert with only occasional dwellings, although we are still not far from the Nile. Our camp is near a canal leading from the Nile. A no. of riders chose to bathe there. They claimed it was refreshing, despite what looked like turds floating along. Personally, I chose to give it a miss.

As we sat under the tarpaulin, enjoying James’s delicious pumpkin soup, we clapped in riders coming in later in 45 degrees of heat. Some will have stopped at the very occasional coke stops on the way, where, in a flimsy shack, a cold drink can be enjoyed- but you pay the price.

Not a Coke Stop - just a goatskin containing water!

The TDA staff went for some crates of cold fizzy apple juice for us late afternoon. That was so appreciated.

Tomorrow onwards, we can leave when we want;  each of us has a little scanner which we wear around the neck.  We just have to touch a small unit at the back of the lorry when we start and finish.  So I am sure at lot of us will be away a bit earlier, as soon as breakfast allows us.

Distance 142 kms. Av.speed 29.8kph  Time cycling 4 hrs.53

Feb 1st.

I need to reassess. I was the first racer to leave camp this morning, determined to minimise the time in the sun.  By lunch, Eric Defour, who had left a few minutes after me, was in front.  He is riding alone so as to strengthen himself for the RAM (Race across America) in  which he is competing after this.  While at lunch, the four leaders came in and went quickly, to pull Eric in.  So I rode solo again. The last 30 kms. in particular were agonising.  There is no escape from the blistering heat.  I cannot think of anything humorous to say about it.  The energy drink is sickly sweet, but you need it….even though it is very warm.

When at last i arrived at camp, I could only lie down, keep sipping water and wait to come round. Franz, one of the leaders, kindly passed me a cup of tea.

The interesting thing is that some riders were saying that today was better than yesterday; big Dan, one of the four leaders today, thought it was awesome. But a no. of riders stopped at coke stops; they had cold drinks, cookies and even a sleep, to rest from the heat. They were the lucky ones, since a good tailwind got up after lunch.

Yes - a Coke stop!!

The whole afternoon has been spent lying in the shade, first taking soup, then teas and coffees. Right by us there is a shelter with a big mat and clay pots of water. The clay pots keep the water cool and are available at no cost. These were empty but the extra shelter helped.  Mid-afternoon was 47 in the sun, 37 in the shade. The tents are unusable till after sundown and even then the heat rises up from the sand underneath for some hours. Nevertheless, the last two nights I have slept fantastically well.

It can be quite interesting moving around during the afternoon, chatting with different riders.  There are riders of all ages and backgrounds . To mention just a few, we have Adam, 18 year old self-confessed brat- but a really nice lad-  who cycled across Europe before this. Big, warm-hearted Martijn, who cycled from Amsterdam to Cairo prior to the TDA. Jethro, 27 year old actuary from S.Africa, who will go on to compete in the utterly mad Freedom Race from Durban to C.Town after this race.  Jeff and Diane from Aspen; Giselda from Germany and Juliana from Canada, the two neck and neck leaders among the ladies, really tough individuals.

Not a banned Muslim - this is Martijn - he could sell sand to an Arab!

So tomorrow we have 158 kms. in the penultimate day before entering Khartoum. I shall be looking out for coke stops, I shall be carrying my camelback.

Distance: 144 kms. Time cycling: 4 hrs. 22    Av. speed: 33.3 kph

Feb 2nd.

Breakfast was brought forward by 15 mins., so the added time and a bit of a tailwind produced some fast times. The fastest riders averaged 47 kph today. They went past the finishing line because the flag had not yet been put up.

We are still very much in desert, but today there have been thorny trees splattered around, with sometimes camels grazing on them. The only apparent activity  was the occasional water cart pulled by a donkey.

The 80 kms to lunch went fine. There would be a coke stop at 108 kms. so my 2 bottles would be sufficient. There was one at 105kms., he even had Vimto, but they were warm. So I decided to carry on.  At 108 I noticed a building, with some red paint, set back 100m. from the road. I plodded over through the sand; it was some sort of police post. They invited me to lie down, but I just filled a bottle with the warm water from their tap. The first coke stop I came to was only 1 km. from camp, but I stopped anyway, and then another rider, Patrick, stopped also. We guzzled a couple of soft drinks while the locals asked why we were doing this cycling.  Patrick explained that most riders were raising money for a charity. When we got ready to pay, one gentleman told us he wanted to pay for us.

The Sudanese are so generous and warm-natured. Where we were camped last night, the shelter we were using was a tea stop. The locals had opened it up to us, despite the fact we were not buying their tea and that they had no customers to serve because of our presence.

There were some more coke stops near to our campsite.While soup was being prepared. most of us sauntered over, lounged on a mat and tried to quench the unquenchable.

There seems to be a more relaxed atmosphere about camp now.We are becoming more of a group, three fairly  hard days are behind us and we are just one day away from finishing our first section. Tomorrow will be diifferent, as we will start with a 20 kms time trial followed by another 46 kms to the lunch truck, all 66 kms. counting towards our overall time. Then we will cycle in convoy for the remaining 40 kms. to our campsite in Khartoum, where there will be showers and toilets and a rest day.

Distance 155 kms  Time cycling 4hrs 20   Av.speed: 34.5 kph

Sunil went to see a doctor in Aswan, his saddle sores were so bad. He was told not to cycle.  Yet the following day he cycled, but never once sitting down. Can you imagine that?  I did not know till yesterday- he was wearing three pairs of shorts in this heat- yet I have never seen him without a cheery smile.

Questions you might ask.

1 What is the food like?

Always plenty,and nutritious. Within the confines of availability, James varies the ingredients well. (We might have had goat meat last night as the men at the tea stop wanted to sell him a goat, but he already had enough beef).

2 Any regrets?

That I am 60.

3 Do you see yourself completing EFI (every fabulous inch)?

Yes

4 Is there anything that you really crave for right now?

More donations to Thamsanqa.

This is what we aim for cycling each day

Wadi Haifa port

Surprisingly, the bunks look OK and within minutes, a plate of apples and bananas arrived at each cabin. After eating these, I was still hungry so I devoured some pastries – we had all gone down early this morning to buy at the local bakery, anticipating 36 hours without food. Much to our surprise, we were given a meal in the cafeteria.

Loading the truck at Wadi Haifa

People and baggage are still loading. We hope to be away by 6 pm. So early morning we should get sight of Abu Simbel, before docking in Wadi Haifa.  So it is farewell to Egypt. All of us are looking forward to Sudan.

Most of us were going to sleep at 8pm when we were called through the tannoy to the “cafeteria”…..more documents to fill in, then waiting in a narrow corridor, through which waiters were passing to deliver food on impossibly large trays, until finally our turn came to have the temperature inside our ears tested and then our visas stamped. Getting back to sleep again in the stuffy cabin was difficult and I was still awake at 12.00 when there was a knock on the door. In came a boy with 2 soft drinks.

At sunrise, a number of us were on deck ready to see Abu Simbel. For half hour before passing it, we had been able to make it out, so massive is it’s size. Within a couple of hours we will dock in Wadi Haifa. Hopefully there will be little damage to the bikes, but conditions are so cramped on deck that people have been stepping over them. I know that one of my water bottles is missing.

Once on land, we only cycle about 5kms to where we camp. Food will continue to be our own responsibility today. Then we start back into our normal rhythm tomorrow.

26th.

Well, let’s just put the ferry down to experience. One of the TDA staff had taken an Immodium to avert the need to use the washrooms. One poor rider had diarrhoea before he embarked- bad luck for him.  In the event, one toilet kept going.

Approaching the port of Wadi Haifa, we first got a good view of Abu Simbel, close enough to see the tourists.  We also passed the barge carrying our 2 trucks, which had set out a day earlier.

Abu Simbel - courtesy of the Webmaster

The port is no more than a slipway, nothing else at all. Open trucks draw alongside the ferry, luggage- including a lot of TVs – gets passed down and then thrown up into a truck. . This process took a few hours; coupled with the delays of customs’ officialdom, it got to 4pm for we were able to cycle the 5 kms. to our campsite, again alongside a soccer ground

Tuk tuks rattled us into town. Nothing happens here for 6 days and then the ferry comes in. A few simple buildings congregated around an area through which a dusty track passes through to nowhere, quickly set up tables and chairs and ply us with cokes, since Sudan is “dry”, deep-fried fish, potatoes in a tasty sauce and chewy goat-meat. An air of “how good to be in Sudan” was palpable. The people are so openly friendly without being pushy. The lad serving us refused point-blank to accept a tip.

Eating out in Wadi Haifa

27th.

The road is paved all the way through to Khartoum this year So the TDA team have chosen to do the 4 days to Dongola in 3, thus making time for an off-road route after Khartoum through the Dinder National Park

Today was so good!  For me personally, there was the relief that my back seems to be settling down. For us all, the 150 kms. was on a really good road; no potholes, debris or traffic!.

Although following the Nile, we cycled through the desert. The pastel shades ranged from burnt orange through to black, each shade distinct from the adjacent, no smudging. I wonder whether this could be due to different inundations through the years. The small hills and rock forms also varied so much that they could have had different creators.

I stayed most of the day with a group of six. We lost one rider after lunch when he stopped for a pee, and another through diarrhoea.

Our campsite was the best yet. The Nile is 200m. away. A village adjoins us. The simple single story homes are made of blocks of baked clay.

View from the campsite

The campsite, 200m from the river

After just 2 bowls of soup – I have the big dog-bowl now- 2 teas and a coffee, I joined others to go down to the river. This has to have been the most pleasant experience of the whole trip so far. To lie in the cool waters, wash off and cool down, was a perfect antidote to the rigours of the ferry and we were not put off by the warnings of our Sudanese security man of the dangers of the crocodiles. (I thought I heard him mumbling “crocks to the crocs”).

In the Nile - I'm not the skinniest!

For the first time, I feel happy in my own skin. Not alone, for me the Africa trip has just started.  Egypt belongs to the Middle East.  Sudan to Africa.

034 036

Villager rushes to his boat and starts rowing...

...then erects a simple sail

Time cycling: 4 hrs. 42 mins.  Dist.: 150 kms.  Av. speed: 32.1kph

It is now 7pm. Everyone seems to be settled down for the night.

28th.

I was a few minutes delayed getting up to the road from the campsite. so I had to push to reach the group with whom I wished to ride.

I should explain that there are three riders always in the lead. Then there is the first group not far behind. Then comes a second group after which riders are alone or in 2s and threes. I caught the second group, but after less then half an hour someone called for a pee-stop. I chose to carry on on my own..

At the 80 kms. lunch-stop, the first group were still there. I grabbed a segment of grapefruit, filled my water bottle and went.

How our heads can play games with us! I had had no previous notion of competing with the first group…but here, suddenly, was an opportunity.  For the next 2 hours I just pedalled as hard as I reasonably could. It sure looked promising, 5th place!  Only 5 kms. to go. Then they were on me! Beggar!  I followed them in.

On the 2nd bowl of soup, I felt queasy, a bit hot and cold. To lie flat in the shade, I got under the truck . Then I turned over and brought the soup up.

After a rest, I had a good dinner and was fine.

29th.

A relatively easy ride over the 110 kms to Dongola took us over the new bridge spanning the Nile. We are camping in Dongola Zoo. There are no animals, but there are toilets, running water and grassy areas to pitch the tents on.

By 2 pm., most of us were washed, had our clothes on a line and were looking for somewhere to eat. Today is Friday, a holy day for the Muslims. Shops will remain closed till 5pm. After awhile trooping around in the searing heat we found a café – Chicken, some vegetables and falafel (fried chickpeas), washed down with cold water…this is the life. Oh, and some strawberry yoghurt and raisins. Did we feel good!

Local children pass into our campsite

Eating in Dongola - he makes excellent coffee!

I recommend you look at www.africanride.blogspot.com to see the blog of one of the other riders. He updates it twice a day with plenty of photos.and he will probably be able to continue uploading when we can’t.  Also, the TDA site is continually updated.

30th

It is 5.30 in the morning. I am sat at one of the very few stalls open, drinking a coffee. The muezzins are calling the fervent to prayer. The stall-owner is frying doughnuts continually. There must be 200 already.

After unsuccessfully uploading my blog in the internet cafe last night, I joined some other riders for a tea at one of the many stalls. This town has a vibrance without being hectic. Sure, it is rundown- if it was ever run up!-  but once you desist from applying previously accumulated criteria, it is rather pleasant. As a tourist, you would ask for your money back. We are itinerants and can enjoy it.

Going back to the campsite last night, I went to the toilet block, or squatters’ corner, if you like. As mosquitos flew round my head and cockroaches scurried around my feet, I suddenly lost the urge and went to bed. I read, ate some peanuts, raisins and dates….and then an energy bar. The strong coffee kept me awake and even now I feel alert. Thus I am opposite the internet cafe, drinking coffee, waiting for it to open!  He has about 300 doughnuts now.  I succumbed to 2 doughnuts and then walked over to wait for the internet cafe to open. Three other riders turned up and went over to the cafe-stall. One had taken a photo. A policeman came over to me  ”One of your friends, he took a photograph- no photos here”.  ”Where,  just here or the area in general?”  ”Nowhere in Dongola,  not allowed!”  We got talking and went over together for a coffee. It turns out that the $US 63 we paid out yesterday, through the TDA, was for a permit to be in Dongola (50) and a license to be able to take photos (13).  So we are safe!

Best wishes,

Eric