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| David : 21 July 2007 : C&S current location - Namibia Having just returned from L'Etape du Tour and some spectacular scenary not too mention suffering here is the latest info from Simon and Craig : "We are leaving Windhoek this morning (15 July), so next up Mariental. Can't believe we're almost there, going to miss these great days badly. Got a new 700C wheel built for Craig so fingers crossed that is the end of the wheel saga." |
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Simon : 15 July 2007 It would be wrong to leave without making a wish - into Botswana with wet shoes - "oh, vokken 'el" - elephants at the roadside and snide vultures - cowboys and twisted totems - notorious for lions The misty plume that marks Victoria Falls is easily confused with the smoke that rises from the bush fires that smoulder across Zambia, and was first visible from a small rise 10 km outside Livingstone. Later, when we were within earshot of the falls, it was clear why traditionally they are known as "the smoke that thunders". It is wonderful to stand enveloped in the mist and the spray and watch the sheer volume of water that tumbles over 100m down the Eastern Cataract, thick white water turned emerald green in places by the light. Multiple rainbows form in the fine spray that is forced back upwards, bigger droplets visible as they bump and bounce their way back to the mass of water once more, while moss drips and grows like stalactites on the wooden railings. Walk around to the top and you will be surprised at how unassuming the river is that feeds this spectacle. It would be wrong to leave without making a wish, and as the Zambians don't use coins, I wrapped a note around a small stone and tossed it over the falls. In Livingstone we stayed at Jolly Boys Backpackers where we once again met Gerd and Gerd, two Germans travelling by motorbike from their home town in Germany to Cape Town (http://www.vonbnacha.de/ ). I first met them in Malawi at Chitimba, and we have been leapfrogging each other ever since as we are following a similar route south. Livingstone is an obvious meeting point for backpackers and overlanders, and in the tent next to mine was an Irishman called Sam who is on the last leg of a two year journey around the world by motorbike. Another two Germans, Rosalind and Rosbitte, confirmed my suspicion about the mental stability of people who travel too long by bicycle. Into their third year of cycling around the world photographing and writing accounts of the countries they visit, they were completely loony (http://www.impetusinmundum.de/ ). We crossed into Botswana with wet shoes after the pontoon stopped a few feet short of the shore. There is a confluence of countries at this point in the Zambezi: behind us Zambia and Namibia, in front of us and to the right Botswana, to the left Zimbabwe. We had hoped to take the road to Maun through Chobe, but not only is it closed to cyclists, the thick, loose sand regularly stalls 4x4's and would have meant long stretches of pushing. Craig's rear wheel could barely cope (it was badly rebuilt in Iringa, Tanzania, after it was folded by a psychopathic truck driver) with smooth tarmac at this stage so we turned around and headed directly south on a detour via Nata. The road to Nata is flat and so straight that the radio masts we saw in the distance took over 10 km to reach. This road drones on through thick bush and the occasional farmland for 300 km without a left or right turn, the monotony broken by just one tiny, dusty town at the 100 km mark. A constant stream of bakkies and 4x4's heads north along this road, South Africans on holiday, kids on the backseat. The South Africans we have met have been fascinated by our journey and we talk for long about our favourite countries (Sudan and Ethiopia), our Kona bikes, and most indispensable items (spare spokes, billy can, zipties and diary). But I suspect the generosity all have displayed stems from a sympathy for these two skinny guys who have voluntarily travelled 9,000 km by bicycle, with 3,000 km still to go. "Oh, vokken 'el" is a common response when they hear we started in Egypt, followed by gifts of biltong, droe wors, Coke and bread. One woman we ask for advice on the road she has just travelled talks to us at length in Afrikaans and then asks if we come from England. Perhaps she thought we learned Afrikaans riding the District and Circle line, I've heard it's possible. There was no alternative but to camp along this route in northern Botswana, and I would not have wished it any other way. Big fires and Masai blankets bought in Kenya kept us warm when the temperature plummeted after sunset, while a bright white moon and a sky split in two by the Milky Way competed with memories of immaculate nights in the desert of Sudan. Occasionally the thick bush around us crackled with unseen life but otherwise there was silence. During the day we saw elephants lumbering at the roadside, massive grey creatures that looked at us with indifference while we looked at them from our bikes with awe. The bush showed all the signs of their presence: branches we collected for firewood neatly stripped of their bark; whole trees overturned, trunks scarred; and dung the size of mini soccer balls and which rolled just as well. We reached Nata in two days although blustery winds made going tough when head-on gusts would cause us to drop a gear or two to try keep spinning. We took another two days to cover the next 300km of now empty plains between Nata and Maun, legs strong after 9,000km on the bike. Helped by a tailwind and Rage Against the Machine on the IPOD the kilometers faded fast, over 30 an hour. Above us were leaden skies that somehow turned the light to that gentle glow that I imagine usually only accompanies revelations and other ethereal encounters. The plains of caramel grass that framed the horizon in soft focus such a contrast from the thick bush of before. Spinning onwards I disturbed a a group of seven or eight giant vultures with my squeeky chain, this team of snide brutes reluctantly sauntering off and leaving a carcass I could only smell. Entering small towns along the way, looking for water, we often feel like we are arriving in Western towns with bad reputations preceeding us. Eerily quiet, dust blowing across the road, the odd face peering at us through a window. Craig's rear wheel had continued to disintegrate and in one day we had to replace ten spokes. Approaching Maun we finally ran out of spare spokes but he managed to keep the wheel rideable by connecting broken spoke halves in a crude, twisted joint. Perhaps it was tiredness , perhaps it was just fate, but as we entered Maun - the only town on our route where there was a chance of finding a rim and spokes - Craig rode into an enormous pothole that swallowed his melancholy wheel and destroyed it for good. As luck would have have it we flagged down John Dikgang who, in that matter-of-fact, unassuming way we have encountered so often on this trip, accepted our problem as his own and spent the afternoon taking us to various hardware stores for spares. As we later found out, he then returned to finish his work for the day after-hours. Maun is an odd, dusty little town where the sreets belong as much to shiny 4x4s as stubborn donkeys, and where Afrikaans is practically the first language. On the way in we passed cowboys in wide brimmed hats herding their cattle along the side of the road, bedroll behind the saddle and horses kicking up the dust which streaked their faces and hands white. Mangy, skinny dogs traight off the cover of J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace barked at us from outside dusty properties, entrances otherwise indistinguishable from the bush were it not for the twisted totems - "Botswanan Gothic" - of old tyres, rusty enamel basins, and broken plastic chairs strung from stakes. We finally found a 36 hole, 26 inch rim and spokes at the back of a cluttered but fragrant store that seemed to specialise in hair extensions and perfume. With infinite patience Craig eventually managed to lace and build his wheel despite no previous experience and the fact that his hub is 32 hole. In Maun we also met Jimmy from Autospares who looked like he was born with a monkey wrench in his hand, and who told us: "you know, that Nata road is notorious for lions". Perhaps that explained the zebra head and carcass we saw looking at us from the roadside in the Makgalikgali Reserve. Right now we are in Windhoek, Namibia, where we will be meeting the team from BEN Namibia and restocking before our final leg south. Cape Town by the 5th August! A note on the charities: Like the charities we are supporting through our ride - BEN and Re-Cycle - Kona are heavily involved in promoting the use of bicycles as a development tool in African communities. They are currently active in Botswana (Bobonang and Gabarone) as part of their Biketown Project, distributing bicycles specifically designed for use by critical workers like nurses and home carers. Soon Kona will be extending their support to the Caprivi strip in Namibia, with input and training from BEN Namibia. We will be visiting BEN Namibia in Windhoek to better understand the work that they are doing. |
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| charities www.BENbikes.org.za & www.Re-Cycle-East.org | see also www.konabiketown.com | |
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