Eric on his Bike

NB:  Correction re zebras: I was misinformed the other day as to the types of Zebra. The purely black and white zebra is found mainly in Eastern Africa. Here in Namibia, there are two types: the mountain zebra (also known as the Burchell’s zebra), has dark brown stripes against a tan background, the stripes being widely spaced and reaching down under the belly and down the legs; the plains zebra is lighter in colour and it’s dark brown/black stripes are evenly spread over the entire body. Amazing what you find out when you are not cycling!!

Sat. May 8th.

Today, the riders will be cycling to Felix Unite, a campsite on the Orange River, some 12 kms. from the border crossing at Noordoewer. There they will have a rest day before crossing into S. Africa. I was told by TDA staff as well as the staff at the Schutzenhaus, where I have spent two nights, that I would easily get a lift to the border, so I booked a room for tonight at a place in Noordoewer, intending to join the group again tomorrow. Well I waited four hours outside the petrol station on the B1, the road going south. I was ignored or, when I asked people who stopped to fill up, they had excuses not to be able to help. But finally, two young men in a lorry, said they could drop me at Grunau, which is about halfway. They were on their way to Pretoria to pick up potatoes, to take to Angola. Just past the service station at Grunau, there is a left turn which leads to a different border crossing; this is the way these two men were going. Waiting in front of the service station, not many lorries passed and those that did, were going to the left or drove straight past me. It must have been about 4.30 when I asked a driver who had pulled in if he was going to Noordoewer. Yes, he was, at 6 am tomorrow.. So I went into the service station and asked if I could sleep inside in my sleeping bag. Blow me, they had rooms and food to eat. They allowed me to ring the lodging in Noordoewer to cancel, I ate well, was allowed to use their computer and I have a lovely room, all for about 24 euros – plus a wake-up call at 5am. I shall be in Noordoewer for 8 am and at camp shortly after. Isn’t it amazing how sometimes when you can see no way out, it just presents itself ?!

Sunday, May 9th Getting to Noordoewer.

The room last night was really nice and I left a note to thank them for their kindness. I thought it would be ungracious to mention that I had managed to kill 8 mosquitoes during the night and had run out of time to finish the job. I was out the door by 5.30 – but the lorry had gone. I asked every lorry that called in for fuel. Soon, one driver said he was going to Noordoewer but how much would I pay. We agreed on 30 Namibain dollars (about 3 euros) and we were on our way. He was carrying hake from Walvis Bay, the Namibian port to the west of us. He explained that 20 lorries, each carrying 19-20 tonnes of filleted, iced hake, left Walvis Bay each month. From the ship, the lorry had 20 hours to get to Johannesburg airport, from where it was all flown to Madrid!  Each consignment cost the Spaniards 300,000 euros. Hake is also coming from C. Town, P. Elizabeth and Plattenburg Bay in S. Africa to be flown to Madrid via Jo’burg. After 5 days cycling on dirt, the riders were camped by the Orange River, at Felix Unite camp. They had enjoyed the scenery and were all excited at being only six days’ cycling from C. Town. The campsite is set high on a bank, looking over the bending river to S. Africa. It is good to be back with them. I do not know whether I was right to leave for a few days or not, given the difficulty of getting back. At least I did get a good rest for two days. I am going to try getting on the bike again the day after tomorrow for a half-day. If that goes OK, I will continue with full days. Whatever happens, I intend to be on my bike for going in to Cape Town.

May 10th. Felix Unite to Springbok.

We crossed the river to go through customs on the S. African side. From here, the road winds up 1500m. onto the mountain plateau. This is desert country; there are no trees and although there are some interesting boulder formations, the landscape lacks the colour and contrasts that Namibia offers. Low bushes, on the other hand, cover the ground in yellows, greens, blues and purples. The road is straight with hardly any traffic and there is a cold wind. Springbok is the only town, as I understand it, between here and C. Town. We are camped a few kilometres out of town. I am going to cycle in to see how I do. At least I will know how I am for tomorrow. On Saturday, about 1.30pm., we will form a convoy to enter C. Town. I am hoping that my wife, Carole, and eldest son, Damien, will be there – hoping there are no flight cancellations – as well as Tia, Peter and Daphne. It is going to be an emotional time for all of us, I imagine. Never again will we be together as a group and in most cases, never again will we see each other. After four months, living cheek by jowl, it will be a hard break to make. But we will be going back to loved ones, a lengthy rest, and time to think.

May 3rd. Rest day in Sesriem (Sossusvlei) .

I got up at 5.15 after an uncomfortable night. I did not dare use the cot, knowing I would break it trying to get up. I walked to the gas station to post the blog. As the first rays of light hit the surrounding mountains, their vertical crevices, like fluting, etched black against the purples and reds of the rock face. Already, those going to Sossusvlei had left. The air was very cold and they felt perished in the open vehicles. Nonetheless, the general verdict when they returned, was “spectacular”.

After washing my laundry-twice, because the first time the line came down in the sand- I spent a lazy day, just reading. In the evening, I ate in the bar with Paul and Reiner. We shared a bottle of wine, which felt so luxurious, and chatted mainly about Paul’s work at Minnesota University, especially into viable farming systems.

As we settled in our tents, a chorus of bird-like cries rose up from jackals nearby. During the night, I tried to turn, felt a sharp pain and heard a snap- perhaps a small ligament or tendon-  in the ribs.

May 4th. Sesriem to Betta. 139 kms.

I got up particularly early, to give myself plenty of time  to pack up my things .I got in the dinner truck with Caroline, the medic, Sam, who was riding from lunch, and Gabrielle, who was going to ride but found problems with his bike this morning.

During the first two hours, we saw more animals than I have seen in four months: herds of springbok. zebra and oryx. On one occasion, two male springbok were running along the track straight in front of us. Then they veered off, one to each side. The one on the left kept pace alongside us for fully one kilometre at 60 kph., his nostrils flared fully open, gasping for air. Black-backed jackals loped away as we approached. A pair of bat-eared foxes stared at us as we slowed down, before cautiously leaing the roadside. Ostriches skittered away in a flurry.  The zebras we saw were of two types, the mountain zebra and the Birchell’s zebra, which has some brown in its marking as well as the black and white.

At the lunch stop at 8.30, Caroline gave me a heavy jab in the bum with a fast-working anti-inflammatory, which eased the pain considerably.

We got to camp here at Betta by 10.15. There is a gas station, a shop and the small campsite, nothing more- very similar to Solitaire.  Power is produced by the wind and a wood stove They have 5 rooms at about 18 euros per person. I have taken a room for myself so I can rest up all day. After tea and apple cake in the shop, I went to bed for an hour. What sheer indolence, indulgence….and incredibly nice!

Riders found the first 70 kms. hard, with a choice of corrugation or loose sand, and some headwind to deal with. As a result. about 13 riders got in the lunch truck. For those that continued, they were repaid by a better surface and a heavy tailwind.

The wind is strong tonight. I am glad my tent is not being put to the test.

May 5th. Betta to Konkiep Lata.   159  kms.

A mando day for the riders, following yesterday’s pattern of a very tough first half, followed by easier conditions after lunch, saw Marcel come in with the fastest time. He did it in just under five and a half hours, averaging over 26 kph, all off-road.

I got a puncture- in my bum again this morning! Caroline’s injection has made the day easier. We arrived at this camp, in the dinner truck, at about 10 am. The rooms that are available are Wendy Houses, just two or four beds, nothing more  But that is fine, since all I want to do is lie down. Since I am clearly not going to be able to race for a few days at best, I am going to try to go ahead to the border and just rest well for a couple of days. Maybe then I can try to ride again in S. Africa, where the roads will be smooth.

I shared the Wendy House with Bill last night. He took another look at my ribs and straightaway diagnosed a separated cartilage i.e. the cartilage that should connect the rib has become detached.. It is common amongst rugby players, but is not serious. It will just be painful for some time.

Perhaps I should mention that the lovely lady who runs this camp makes the most incredible chocolate cake!  With opportunities like this becoming more frequent, we must surely be starting to put weight back on!

May 6th. Riders, Konkiep to Seeheim (126 kms); me to Keetmanshoop.

The TDA staff were going to get supplies from Keetmanshoop, so I got a lift with them. I am going to stop 2 nights here before hitching a lift to the border, where I will find the camping ground (Felix Unite). I will spend two nights there, the second day with the riders who will have a rest day there. Hopefully I can then continue with them through S. Africa on my bike.

I am upset not to be riding this part of Namibia, which we all like so much. It is possibly my favourite country. It would be easy to forget the distressing poverty we have seen in other countries. But they will be forever etched on our minds. No more will mud huts in glorious sunsets signify for us a romantic setting or way of life. It signifies a cruelly hard existence, with no chance of rising up from it.

I was interested to read in a local paper today, this Yiddish proverb:”Everyone is kneaded out of the same dough, but not baked in the same oven”. It struck me quite powerfully because of a conversation with Jason last night. He wants to raise money when he goes home for some youngsters he met that want to go to university in their own countries. What interested me most though, was the true story he told me of a rabbi addressing his congregation: he first explained that only one-tenth of the world population had a decent standard of living, as they themselves enjoyed. The other nine-tenths lived a hard, precarious life, affected by disease, malnutrition and natural disasters. So, he asked them, if you were given the chance to be re-born at the end of your current lives, knowing the odds in favour of you being born as one of the nine-tenths, would you take it? He paused. Then, he added, that if they chose not to be re-born, thay should be doing all they could in this life to help those less fortunate than themselves.

Keetmanshoop is a very small place, but it has a good variety of stores. Most people about town are coloured or black. If I was feeling in better shape, I would love to go walking in the surrounding bush. The apparently barren landscape always throws up surprises. Instead, I have contented myself by looking in what was the original mission church here, but is now an interesting museum. This town was first settled by tribesman who found a muddy spring here. It was later the scene of conflict between the tribespeople and the German colonial masters, just before the 1st. World War.

At the beginning of the 2nd World War, two German geologists took off from Windhoek into the desert in order to avoid internment. Their story of survival is the subject of the book I am reading at the moment. There is a world out there, full of life, that we could never imagine. Meanwhile, I am stuck in a backpacker’s lodge- a very good one, I must add- licking my wounds!

May 7th. Seeheim to Hobas. 177 kms.

The riders will have quite a long day today. They will start off from alongside the Fish River, which at that point has little water at the moment; I know that because we crossed it yesterday to get here. I am not sure, but I think that where they camp at Hobas tonight  will be about 30 kms. from the Fish River Canyon. This is said to be the most awe-inspiring sight in the whole of Africa, the canyon being the biggest in the world after the Grand Canyon. It was the sight I was most looking forward to on this trip. But even if I had continued with the group, I would have had to cycle to it, something I am incapable of at the moment.

With my enforced spare time, I have been doing an evaluation of the trip so far.

My main aims were:

1 To complete the trip.

2 To avoid accident or mishap.

3 Not to lose anything.

4 To camp all the way.

5 In doing all the above, to draw attention to the tremendous work being done at Thamsanqa orphanage and in the surrounding area of the black township of Motherwell.

Well, I will complete the trip, even though i am forced off the road for a few days.

I haven’t avoided accident and mishap completely, but given my propensity for inviting trouble, I have done well on this account I feel.

I have lost water bottles, gloves, cycle computer, a micro-fibre towel, washing line and on one occasion my temper. Also weight. Nothing of great value.

When the lorry did not turn up in Gondar with our luggage and tents, I went into the hotel there. At the moment I am in lodging for health reasons. I would hope you would agree that i have done OK  in this respect

I have not mentioned Thamsanqa too much, because I believe my blogsite makes it quite clear why I am doing this trip: I have always hated camping- and this adventure has reinforced that! – as also anything which is organised. So it was always going to be my motivation to help Thamsanqa that would pull me through. I am so looking forward to seeing Tia Wessels and the children again, and that wonderful couple, Peter and Daphne, who are such staunch allies to Tia. I stayed with them when I helped out at Thamsanqa last year, and I am hoping they will have room for Carole and I when we get to Port Elizabeth.

Reading the Namibian paper, the Economist, last night, it was interesting to note the concern they have here for the state of the S. African economy. Thousands of  South African businesses are going into liquidation each day. So I can well understand why Tia Wessels is finding funding so incredibly difficult. I wish my efforts could have done more to help. There are still a few who promised to support me and hopefully will come through with something. I intend to keep the blog going at least until we leave Port Elizabeth, so I can relate how Thamsanqa is doing.

I apologise for going on at perhaps too much length. This is what happens when you get time on your hands!  I better go and have another look round that museum!

Best wishes,

Eric

Section 8 Diamond  Coast   669 miles (1077 kms)

DATE	FROM-TO	MILES	KMS	Notes
30 APR	Windhoek- farm camp	90	145
1	Farm camp- unsure
2	Not sure- Sesriem
3	Rest day at Sossusvleii
4	Sesriem- Betta	137	220
5	Betta- Konkiep Lapa	153	246	Mando
6	Konkiep- Seeheim	124	200
7	Seeheim- Hobas	110	177
8	Hobas- Felix Unite	174	280	Mando
9	Rest day at felix Unite
10	Felix Unite- Springbok	84	135
11	Springbok- Garies	75	121
12	Garies- Vanrhympsdorp	50	80
13	Elands Bay- not sure
14	Not sure- Yzerfontaine
15 MAY	Yzerfontaine-Cape Town	56	90

 

 

 

 

 

 

April 29th  Rest day in Windhoek

When I got back from the mall, the sky was darkening. I got the tyres changed, ripping one inner tube in the process, and got the essentials like the chain complete. I almost forgot my laundry, but got it inside just as the first drops started falling, at 5.45.  Within a few minutes, we were back to the usual caper- thunder, lightning and very heavy rain.

But I am sat on my cot, a towel across my lap and I have a bag of bread, cheese, fruit, both dried and fresh, nuts and cake! So what do I care if it pours down outside!

April 30th. Off to Weissenfeld camp.

Eric Defour was in his tent right next to me. I heard him up in the night trying to divert the water getting in.

By morning, you would not have known it had rained. After packing up, I started to fold my tent up. A pole snapped. So did my patience; I got ready to throw it. Eric Defour persuaded me not to and I managed to fold it up into its bag.

 After breakfast, we had our rider meeting, when we were introduced to Henry Gold, the founder and owner of TDA. He will be accompanying us to Cape Town.

Then it was time to get going. I had my bike ready; I just felt the tyres out of habit; the front was flat. After changing it, I was the last to leave. Heading in the direction of Walvis Bay, the first 10 kms. were on tarmac, taking us up higher into the hills- or, rather, mountains, as we climbed from Windhoek at 1700m to a pass at over 2000. Baboons ignored my passing, perhaps mistaking me for a big snail.

The terrain surprised us. We had expected it to be flat. Furthermore, there was plenty of green still, as the rainy season is only just finishing. Another surprise was how hot it was.

The dirt track was generally good, but where there was loose sand and gravel, it brought back memories of darker days.

Our camp site really is in the middle of nowhere. The owners run a small stud farm and a guest house. The feeling of the place is of homeliness, self-sufficiency and not rushing. We are camped round the back.

Talk around the campsite now turns much more towards Cape Town, discussing our plans, and comparing our feelings. Have we, or our attitudes, changed; what will we do after this and so on.

I opened up my tent, and, even with the broken pole, it has taken its normal shape. It has just had a stiff test, as, once again, we have been hit by a thunderstorm and the rain was savage. With only two weeks to go, I know I can manage no matter what happens now.

Distance: 115 kms. Av.speed: 17.8 kph  Time cycling: 6hrs.30mins.

May 1st. To Solitaire.

Hail, headwinds, corrugation and wet sand, we have had it all today….but for me, this has been possibly the best day of the Tour so far. I feel more alive than I have done for months.

I was one of the first to leave this morning. The turbulent skies marauded above the desolate rolling bush. Our direction was heading for some mountains. They could have been covered with heather, in greens and purples, such was their beauty. The sky had every shade of blue, but over this mountain range, the dark clouds appeared contorted in anger, like a huge oyster shell. Further westwards, the light reminded me of paintings of the Ascension of Our Lord, an ephemeral light from the heavens down to earth. Lightning was flashing over the mountain, as if warning us to keep away. Well before we reached there, water was running down the track and ponding. The sand was mostly saturated, making it a little difficult to push through. But the setting was intriguing and bewitching.

 

By the time we reached this mountain, the storm had moved on. We weaved our way up through the range to where our lunch truck was waiting for us, at about 60 kms. Everyone was cold and a new storm was brewing. So how welcome was the sight of a hot drink, the first time on the Tour at lunch; the first time we have needed it!

As riders began cycling away, the now dark skies chose to soak us again. We had some climbing to take us to the top of the pass. I cannot say just why, but I was loving it. Perhaps it was the sense of freedom the landscape gave me, the strength I felt, I don’t know. There was some hail both before and after the top of the pass, but once at the top, the view was breathtaking. The road before us dropped 500m. within 4 kms. into a wide valley, green, turning to yellow savannah further out. At the far side of this valley, I could see a line of white, with one solitary mountain completely white. I now believe this is due to the sand.

 

Halfway through the valley, five of us stopped at Gecko Lodge, a simple place, where it was pleasant to take tea and biscuits and gather strength for the final 30 kms.

Rising gently out of this valley, you could again see the white expanses with hills rising up from it; I was reminded of lumps of Christmas pudding set in white custard.

 

Our campsite is by the gas station, a place called Solitaire Lodge. The setting is reminiscent of Arizona, according to one of the Americans. There is a Wild West feel to it. But ther4e are simple rooms for those that want them, a bar, cold showers and toilets, but wait for it…. a BAKERY! We had been told that this bakery makes the best apple crumble in Africa. So before showering, bike washing or any other menial duty, most of us traipsed over to the bakery for crumble and coffee. We will all testify to it’s magnificence, and that of all the other pastries and muffins that were flying off the shelf as they came out of the oven. Not as many people went for seconds at dinner tonight!

 

Distance 122 kms. Av.speed.:17.7 kph  Time cycling:6 hrs.56 mins.

May 2nd. Solitaire to Sossusvlei Camp. (80 kms.)

The track from Solitaire continues, the width of a dual carriageway, towards Sossusvlei. The surface is mostly very good indeed. Another storm in the night had cleared to give a beautiful day and we all enjoyed good speeds. Many of us saw oryx, springbok and giraffe early on.

On a particularly fast stretch, where I was doing about 40 kph., I suddenly hit deep, loose sand. The bike took a wobble; I thought I had it under control., but then lost it again. As I came down, the handlebars smacked me in the ribs. This was the only real damage, but it hurt. I carried on slowly to the lunch truck at 50 kms. Bill, the surgeon, checked me over and said nothing was broken. I tried to ride after lunch, but it was too uncomfortable. For the last 25 kms., I rode in the truck.

The scenery continues to fascinate. The colours and contours of the hills and mountains are so varied; I cannot think of anywhere else I have seen it so. Approaching our campsite, the hill is actually red.

We are about 50 kms from Sossusvlei Dune, the largest in the world. It is said to be an astonishing sight. Some riders are taking a balloon ride over it on our rest day tomorrow, while others will go by road and, in some cases, walk to the top.

For myself, the ribcage is so sore tonight, despite taking a no. of painkillers, that I will stay around camp and read. I just hope Bill is right and that I will be able to ride again soon. There are five more days off-road, tough days, and I want to be able to do them.

It looks like, at best, there will be one more chance to use internet after here, before we reach Cape Town, and that will be in Springbok.  I want to thank you once again for all the wonderfully supportive comments. We have all had our ups and downs. Seeing your companions suffer is difficult in itself. Some riders have had to get up many times in the night with diarrhoea, night after night, others have been vomiting as they cycled. I remember Diane in Sudan, cycling behind her husband Jeff after a gruelling day; he was stooped over the handlebars, his head down, with only a km. to go.  She was shouting to him, “Jeff, don’t fall asleep. Keep going!” There was a coke stop with some shade, so they stopped and Jeff went straight to sleep for two hours .Franz was on his fourth course of antibiotics, in Tanzania I think it was. His cuts kept re-infecting, yet he had won every mando day till then. This day, he was feverish, his arm was swollen, but he raced. He won that day by two minutes, hoping to win every mando day of the Tour. But he lost his record on the next mando day when he went back to get help for Michael Prudden after his collision. I will always be grateful to Rick; when I was in a dazed stupor at the lunch stop in Dinder, he  quietly came over and whispered to me, “Don’t  kill yourself, Eric. There are too many people who love you”. Your comments have had the same effect, helping me through times that I admit have been very testing.

Some of the setbacks are humorous looking back, but were not so at the time. At one lunch break, I needed the toilet, and there were some buildings set back, including a toilet shed. Squatting over the hole, the flooring started crumbling where my feet were; only some quick manoeuvring saved me from going down. In a similar vein, I, like others, use a bottle in my tent at night to pee into. I lost my bottle the morning I overslept, but found another the next evening: I would suggest to anybody thinking of using this technique, to always check before using a bottle for the first time, that it is not cracked at the bottom!

May 3rd.  Sesriem
From 4.30 this morning, the first vehicles, carrying some of our riders, set off for the Dunes. The idea is to get there and climb to the top for sunrise.
We are just inside the gates of the Nature Reserve. Vehicles are lined up outside, waiting for the gates to open at sunrise.
There is a gas station, less than a kilometre from camp, that opens at 5.30. There are two computers that have seen heavy demand, so I have come down early so I can send this blog to Susan (ny webmaster) to post. The fresh footprints of springbok are clearly etched in the sand as I walk across. Jackals are a common sight here also, though mainly at night of course, canaries fly about camp. This might be desert, but the place is alive!

Best Wishes,

Eric