Day 56: Lusaka –

If you have exceptionally low expectations, you’ll probably be nicely impressed by the Zambian Museum in Lusaka. It is without doubt the worst museum I’ve ever been to. To the point of amusement. But I guess at least they have one.

I get the new tyre, I haggle down from 2.0 million to 1.6 million (£235 to £188). So just about acceptable (approx £150 in the UK). But it’s an absolute wanker to fit. After about an hour I’m there, but I now have a brilliant ‘trailer trash’ look. Dirty jeans tucked into motorcycle boots, filthy greasy t-shirt, greasy black hands, grease on my face, longish unkempt hair and an untrimmed overgrown moustache. Sweet look.

We heard from Rob a few days ago, he'd made it to Jungle Junction in Nairobi. I was very impressed to hear he made it down the A2 ('The Worst Road in Africa'), and happy to hear he was OK too. He then sent me the following about his bike:

• You would have laughed your ass off following me picking up the pieces that shook loose on the corrugation or simply ripped off on rocks - ok, take a deep breath, now try to imagine riding behind me, watching my bike coming out of the soft sand, hitting the corrugations, then maybe a huge pothole or two... which causes me to blow the suspension hose again.
  Ok, just a quick repair, right? Well a little while down the road on the corrugation, one of the nuts on the rear shock sheers off - overloading and compressing the second shock... basically I am now riding the corrugations on the "WRIA" as a hard-tail - no suspension at all.
  I can hear you giggling...And without suspension it's only a matter of time before all the bolts work loose... and then the Windscreen (fell off) / The all the headlights (fell off) / One saddle bag (fell off) / A hole ripped into the Exhaust / the pill-on seat melted (turns out the rear tire was scraping against the fender on ever bump - apparently to the melting point - oh yeah, rear tire is toast / A couple pieces of trim fell off: muffler heat shield, the bit that locks around the headlight, the entire Speedo unit. And then... the center stand rips off on a rock - and... the bolt that mounts the center stand to the frame tore through the sump. Fortunately for me, I discovered the oil leak after the Maxi-Fuse rattled apart and the bike shut down. I also came off pretty hard and bent up the engine guard. I'm sure I'm forgetting a few things, it was a rough few days. 

So well done for making it!

Tomorrow I’m going to hit the Wanda Munda wildlife sanctuary...

Day 55: Lusaka –

The tyre eludes us by one day, an email from the KTM shop to say the one they thought they had in stock was sold that morning. No worries, there’s another one in another shop, double the money though...

So, I decide to take another look at the carb on Kirsty, perhaps I can find the reason it sometimes sticks a little, fingers crossed. Then tomorrow I’ll get that other tyre fitted, and Thursday I’ll visit the wildlife sanctuary up the road...

Day 54: Lusaka –

KTMs rock! Although my hand laundry skills don’t! There’s a dealer in town who has a tire, and perhaps a small component for my carb, a good result.

But I hand wash some laundry, and um, I think the clothes come out dirtier...

So, tire fitting tomorrow :)

Here are some new friends at the hostel:J

Day 53: Lusaka –

Well, we’re here a little early, so it’s just a bit of time to follow some sports events (final F1 race of the season), and um, do some eating and drinking. And we have a bit of feline company:

Day 52: Saranje – Lusaka

Not many miles to do today, it’s plain sailing into Lusaka, and once inside the (small) city limits, I turn the GPS on to guide me to my accommodation.

I did manage to get another ticket today, although this purely wasn’t my fault (maybe a little!). Rolling up to the police check point, I ride slowly past the stationary traffic. This is exactly what I’ve been doing for the last five or so check points, and based upon the encouragement of the police officers. They aren’t really interested in bikers. But this time, the cop takes exception, and flags me down like a Wildman. Energetically he asks for my passport, he hands it back, not happy and asks for my drivers licence. I hand him my International Drivers Permit, and presumably he wasn’t expecting it? He walks off, IDP in hand, and continues about his day. I don’t really want to sit here all day whilst he decides what he’d like to do. So, in my most confrontational manor I ask him if he’s going to do anything with my licence, or just stand with it in his hand.

He’s enraged, and storms to the guy sat in a car, “Write him a fine, you saw what he did!”. And hands over my IDP to the other cop. This guy is bewildered and writes a ticket for approx £20, sighting ‘Careless driving’. There’s no arguing, a fine for the sake of a fine (although I’m sure I’m not 100% innocent). Paid up and ready to leave, I manage to get the last (juvenile) word in. I walk up to the cop, shake his hand and say “You, are like a child”. I jump on Kirsty and ride off as quickly as I can! And then spend the next 40 minutes thinking how stupid all that was...

Day 51: Mbaya – Serenje, Zambia

For once, not much to report! The border was reached in about an hour, and passed very easily. It was quite busy, queues of tankers, but I swept by them and fumbled my way through the system. A fixer offered his services, but I declined, then immediately wished I’d used him, but was then glad I didn’t. It was a piece of cake!

Excited about being in Zambia, another new country, and I’m heading cautiously deeper into the land. The roads are pretty quiet, and occasionally there are pothole fields. The scenery is reminiscent of England and the South Downs, but on a much larger scale. To give you an idea of how little there is to report, I haven’t taken a single pic.

I did have a small repair to carry out, one of the fuel filters failed and was leaking. So I removed it and fortunately there was enough fuel line to make up the gap. And we managed to cover about 480 miles today!

Some odd thoughts I had today were about me being here. It’s quite often the case that I’m the only white person, and I often stop in odd locations due to time of day (for fuel, bed, food). The stops aren’t really on the tourist route. Sometimes it’s quite funny, people just staring. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve never seen a white person before, or someone in such bad clothes, or someone with such a stupid moustache. Speaking of which, Mr.Mo is starting to get out of control! I have to start considering the reality of trimming him (unlikely with my poor selection of cutting implements), or getting rid of him completely. I guess it’ll be the later, although I’ll miss looking more stupid than usual and hope it doesn’t take anything away from my personality...

I should also point out, that the locals speak better English than about 80% of Brits!

Lusaka tomorrow, I’ve got to try and get a new rear tyre, and clean Kirsty and myself up in readiness for our guest...

Btw, how many legs does one creature need!?

Day 50: Morogoro – Mbaya

I’m getting bored of saying ‘What an amazing day’, but today has been pretty cool. And it’s amazing the different experiences you can pack into one day.

On the road by 0700, there isn’t much to report initially. Quite a few baboons kicking about, but nothing too exciting, until we pass through the Mikuni National Park. I get held up by wild giraffes who are hanging out with a couple of zebra! I’m so excited, a brilliant start! We also see some other type of monkey and some gazelle.  Although the gazelle are too flighty to be caught on camera.

The weather’s good, and we’re having a really nice days riding. Tanzania is a funny country, I keep thinking it doesn’t have much to offer, cosmetically, and then I remember Kilimanjaro! There are some small mountain ranges to give me some eye candy, and I’m offered some graceful mountain roads. Not as much fun as Ethiopia’s, but a good effort.  It’s not all good though, I am forced off the road three times today by oncoming buses/trucks. And these guys weren’t slowing to help me out either. I can see how easy it would be to have a head collision if you were momentarily checking out the scenery...

After the mountain roads it’s just cruising south, passing through various small villages, within one we get another ticket. Same process as before...

A few miles later, we stop for fuel. And bump into three other motorcycle overlanders. They are  a German couple and a Belgian guy. We say our hellos, have a brief chat about conditions where we’ve come from (they’re heading north) and then they’re off. They’ve advised me of a massive section of road works and an accident ahead. And they’re not wrong. Brilliantly, the road is being built and used at the same time. Luckily I can skip the tail back (about three miles) and ride through the road works. Safely out the other side, there’s the oddest situation I’ve ever seen. The embankment on my right is very steep, and it seems a lorry has driven close to the edge and it’s trailer has started to slip down. So a truck, going the same way, but on the other side of the road has tied it’s trailer to the one trying to depart down the slope. Brilliantly, the trailer going down the slope is obviously heavier and has pulled the second trailer almost onto it’s side. It’s been stopped though, by a third truck, going the same way as me. This truck is tied to the other side of the second truck’s trailer. And now, you have three lorries blocking the road, tied together, with lots of people standing around and no one knowing what to do without losing the first trailer. Yikes!

Later on, there are hugely evil clouds hanging above the mountains ahead. We’ve skirted around them most of the day, but it seems we’re heading through. And the rain is immense, massive drops smashing into the tarmac and me. Thankfully I threw my rainsuit on mere minutes ago, but the tip of my nose is just exposed and the odd droplet smashes into that too. Ouch! I’m now riding with my left hand covering the tip of my nose, it’s really sore!

60 miles to Zambia tomorrow, fingers crossed for an easy exit and entry!

Day 49: Moshi – Morogoro

What to say about today? Well, in reality, we’ve got 1500 miles to cover in nine days to meet my friend in Lusaka. Whilst not insurmountable or a massive challenge, it’s still a lot of miles to cover in Africa, on a battle scared bike. So we’d best start early.

By 0800 I’m on the road, and as if the sky has been asleep too, there’s Kilimanjaro in all it’s glory. I must admit, I preferred the mystique of having part of the mountain hidden by cloud, but half an hour later it is. The sky seemingly having risen and taken on it’s old foe.

Safety is always my number one priority when riding, everything else follows. But here, with the warning from Christophe ringing in my ears, I’m being extra vigilant. But to be honest, it hasn’t proven to be any more difficult/dangerous than any other African country. But still, stay focused. Especially as I had one of the worst night’s sleep ever, maybe three hours in total. But Tanzania is a pleasant travel partner. Whilst not having the mountain roads and outright beauty of Ethiopia, it is still very beautiful, with plains and small mountain ranges. But what clinches it, is the people. Happy to help without constantly wanting cash. So far on this trip, the majority of the time when people approach you, they want money. So I’m pretty much like a closed book to approaches from people, but the locals I’ve met so far have all seemed genuine with no hidden agenda.

Late morning I stop for fuel, and notice one of the luggage bolts is loose. Trying to tighten it, it isn’t loose, it’s sheered. Like the other side. Generously the petrol pump attendant takes me to a mechanic, and before long we’re drilling out the other side of K-Dog’s frame. I’m a bit concerned, because there is quite a crowd gathering  to watch the sweaty white guy drilling his bike, and in Ethiopia this went missing from people’s bikes very quickly. Within the hour, I’m back on the road, and with all my tools. Thanks random mechanic guy!

I managed to pick up my third (only second I’ve paid though) speeding ticket. And bearing in mind I was going to fast to stop in time for the officer, it was a fair cop! Although, they said the fine was 60,000TSH (approx £30). I’ve got a wad of cash, I pull it out of my pocket and count out the 60k. With the cash in my hand, I ask for a receipt, and the long and short of it is that the cop said, ‘OK, no receipt, 30k TSH’. Sweet, no argument from me, but have I just helped aid corruption!? Hmm..

We finish up on about 350 miles, which is good as we need to average 140-180 per day. And we’ll have a border crossing soon which will need some consideration.

More miles tomorrow peeps!

Day 48: Jungle Junction – Moshi, Kilimanjaro,Tanzania (Tan-zane-e-ah)

First things first, I take Kirsty for a quick test ride and refuel. All seems good, so back to the ranch, load up and head off.

Kenya has had some stunning highlights, and some ghastly lows, which will probably become highlights of the trip. But Nairobi hasn’t been especially kind to me, and I’m leaving feeling tense. As a departing comment, Christophe advises me of the extremely dangerous roads in Tanzania. So now I’m nervous about leaving, and nervous about the next country too.

The border comes up in an easy 60 miles, I’m happy to have negotiated the Nairobi traffic, but it was no big deal. The border crossing is brilliantly easy. Stamp stamp out, stamp stamp in. Why can’t every African country be like this! Although if they were, I’m sure it’d take away from the trip.

Tanzania is off to impress early, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed in my life. I’ve seen big mountains before, but never like this. Kilimanjaro is a beast of a mountain. Made all the more spectacular by it’s surroundings. There aren’t any. Most mountains are in mountain ranges, and you see a peak, but it’s just one of many. Kilimanjaro is surrounded by plains, and sprouts out of nowhere and smashes it’s way into and through the sky. It’s vast, so vast you can’t see it without having to pan your head from side to side. Whilst other mountain ranges gently rise, and eventually the cloud meets them, here it’s a different story. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, but such is the size of the mountain, it’s drenched in angry clouds, as if the sky is trying to fight back but has been to slow to act. Mightily impressed.

Kirsty isn’t running perfectly though, and I want to check things out before it’s dark, so we pull off the road after 230 miles to have a look under the hood. All seems OK, a few tweaks here and there, lets hope she’s a little better for tomorrow J And lets hope I find better accommodation tomorrow. This hotel is sh*t! But what do I expect for £5.80 per night, inc breakfast...

Day 47: Jungle Junction –

Classic Africa meets European expectations. I have the fork and carb all ready for the mechanics to start rebuilding both at 0900 when they get in. The finally start stripping the carb at 1145, and I then hear them say, OK, give it a clean and then start rebuilding after lunch...

Once rebuilt, we’re still not running smoothly. Damnit! I spend the rest of the afternoon looking for problems, and eventually find a vacuum tube for the fuel pump has rubbed against the fuel tank, causing it to split, and not provide a vacuum to the pump. Sorted, we then readjust the needle in the carb and we have a bike running as smooth as a pint of John Smith’s Extra Smooth. The rebuilt fork is refitted, brake callipers cleaned, tank back, fairing back on and finally the seat. Test ride first thing tomorrow morning, then off to Tanzania!

Day 46: Jungle Junction

A day for laundry and preparing Kirsty. I’m quite excited as I don’t have one single clean item of clothing! And Kirsty is running so badly, the owner of JJ says it’ll def be the carb and they have the parts to rebuild it. So I strip the carb out and also take off one of the forks for a rebuild as the seal has blown. They’ll get into it tomorrow morning hopefully, and then I can head towards Tanzania...

Day 45 Laisamis – Jungle Junction, Nairobi

Well, the 15 meter wide river that’s running past my room definitely wasn’t there last night. That, is crazy. I heard the rain, but didn’t realise how much there was, unbelievable. The UK should take note about water management...

After two days of this hellish road, I’m coming towards the end of my tether. The only thing keeping me going is the thought of seeing friends and family back in the uk, and that this road may only have 20 miles left. Doesn’t sound much does it? But it’s still got a sting in it’s tail. The ‘road’ is now slippery and corrugated, I’m spending most of the morning with the bike sliding and me shouting obscenities. But, just as I’m ready to give up, over one more crest, I see it. A dead straight black line, about 700 meters ahead. That, can only be one thing. Tarmacadum. You, legend.

Hitting the tarmac has three massive benefits:

1-      I feel like I’ve won the lottery, it’s amazing.

2-      I can see the Kenyan scenery, it’s breathtaking.

3-      I feel like it’s going to be possible to finish this trip!

Kirsty feels a little odd though, and in the next time I notice why, the luggage rack has cracked, damnit! Although, it takes only 10-15 minutes to get it fixed, and about £8. Sweet, good work Kirsty!

We say good bye to Brian and Anna over brunch. We’ve had a really good time travelling together, and actually helped each other out when stuck. It’s odd to be on my own again, but equally very enjoyable. I’m heading to Jungle Junction, and the views along the road are nothing short of epic. Clouds crashing into the sides of mountains, and the evilness of the clouds is astonishing. I half expect a Hollywood alien spaceship to break through at any minute and start blowing stuff up. This really is indescribable, you’ve got to see it one day...

Jungle Junction is a big stop over for travellers and overlanders alike. There are about five tents in the back garden and 10-12 4x4s in the front garden. There’s also a motorcycle workshop, and Chris, the German owner, reassures me they have the necessary parts to rebuild Kirsty’s carb which he says will be knackered after the mileage and roads we’ve done. So, the mechanics don’t work on Sunday, so I’ll be stripping Kirsty down, giving her a thorough check and pulling out her carb and taking off one of her forks so they can be serviced. Awesome!

I may even venture into Nairobi for a bit of exploring... 

Day 44: Marsabit – Laisamis

64 miles, in six hours.

I’m woken at about four, by the rain. And oh my god it’s raining, torrential. This, really puts the cat amongst the pigeons...

About seven Brian knocks on the door, and we grab some breakfast. Looking out the window, people’s umbrellas are being blown inside out, and the clay mud road is looking disastrous. Ken, one of the staff, has offered to take us to some mechanics. So, we get along with that first. Even that short journey is treacherous, and the vehicles get caked in mud. I really don’t know what to do here, Ken says it’s going to rain until December. And that road, with a drop of rain, is impassable for me. OK, I’ll fix Kirsty and find someone with a truck to get me to the tarmac.

By the time Kirsty and the 4x4 are fixed, it’s almost two, but the rain stopped this morning and a passing 4x4 is kicking up dust. Brian and I agree to just go, taking a chance. And it pays off. Other than the road being an absolute bastard of corrugations, it’s passable. I get approx three glances away from the ‘road’, and the scenery looks amazing, shame I can’t afford to take it in. 50 miles in, and I’ve two more victims of the abuse. The tool kit has fallen off, and a bolt holding the luggage has sheered.  So with nothing better to do, I sit in Kirsty’s shadow and read my book whilst I await rescue again. The 4x4 turns up, we drill out the frame, bolt Kirsty back up, and we’re off.

Rolling into Laisamis, I wait for the guys to catch me, and get surrounded by kids. They’re curious, and good fun. Such a difference from Ethiopia. Unfortunately, a local guy comes over and takes us to a lodge. He tries to charge us five times what the owner wants, and is literally on drugs. He won’t let go of the 4x4 when we drive off, and B and A have to head to a police check point to get rid of him, wanker...

Day 43: Moyales – Marsabit, Kenya

‘Is it because I’m black?’

Today has been a crazy, crazy day. We’re up early and heading for the border crossing. I’ve clearly woken up on the wrong side of bed and have an argument with the Etihopian immigration officer. He wants to take my finger prints, what an injustice! Anyway, we get out of Ethiopia quite easily, and swing over the border to Kenya for immigration and customs. It’s a very smooth and easy process, up ahead is an unsurfaced road leading towards Nairobi.

What I don’t know yet, is the road’s nickname: The Worst Road in Africa.

In Moyales (Kenyan), two truck drivers offer to take my bike in their truck if I want, and numerous people tell me the road is impassable by bike. I ignore them, what do they know... More than me it seems, almost.  We grab some food and fuel in town and then head a few kms out for a picnic, getting away from the hassle you always receive in border towns. Whilst we’re eating, a guy jumps off the back of a scooter and asks us for a lift. There’s no room on my bike, or in the back of the 4x4, when we tell him this he immediately, and I quote, says: “Is it because I’m black?”

Anna and Brian are shocked, and I laugh, is this guy for real!? I show him the 4x4, full to the brim, and he gets it and heads off. As do I shortly, there’s a lot of road to cover.

I am absolutely livid, this is not a road! I’m cursing Kenya with every swear word I’ve got. The four very worst road surfaces are as follows:

Soft sand

Corrugations

Deep soft mud

Pebbles

    and this road is entirely made up of all of them. You absolute wanker. I’m lucky it’s dry today, this would be impassable with a bit of rain. It doesn’t stop me getting stuck in deep mud approx 20 miles into the road, fortunately, right next to three soldiers who come and help push me free. Thanks guys! The road is very taxing, it isn’t really a road, more a farmers track. You can only focus a few meters ahead, as you’ve got to take in so much information about the road condition, and it makes for really hard work. About 60 miles in, the corrugations that have been shaking me to bits finally take their toll on Kirsty. There’s a loud bang, I lose all power, and the seat has dropped. Fark, this trips over. I’m thinking of how I can get Kirsty to a border so I can at least stamp her out so as to avoid paying import duty. But, as I’m on my own, I may as well take her apart to have a look. And I get a lucky result. The vibrations have shaken two bolts out, causing the rear sub frame to fall away from the chassis, which also pulls the carburettor off the engine. With a handful of tools, a tyre lever and the ratchet strap, I manage to pull the bike back together and refit the bolts. Sweet as! Although I’m a little nervous as I have no thread lock, fingers crossed.... Extremely happy with myself, Brian and Anna have caught up, give me some cold water and head on. It must be over 40, I’m sweating unbelievably from the repair and hard riding, but we head on. This road only gets more ridiculous though, the biggest corrugations ever and massive pebbles are throwing Kirsty around and shaking me to pieces. And after 60 more tortuous miles, I get the same problem again, the subframe has dropped off the chassis. Pulling Kirsty apart again, it’s worse. One of the bolts has disappeared, and the nut that was welded to the frame is gone too. I set about putting Kirsty back together, but without this bolt, I’m stuck. Trip over, I’m sitting in the shade of the bike for about 45 minutes, twiddling my thumbs, cursing not having any thread lock. A CIFA 4x4 pulls over, asking if I’m OK. I know it’s useless, but I tell them I need a bolt and a nut. The driver pulls out his ashtray, I tip it out eagerly on the dusty floor. Eight random bolts, and two random nuts. One of the bolts fits, and one of the nuts fits the bolt. Unbelievable, I’m saved! I thank the guys, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Kirsty quickly fixed, and I’m off again. Brian and Anna have just caught up again too, and they’re having fun too. Both their rear shocks have failed, this road is a vehicle killer! 20 mins up the road, I run into deep soft sand, and as Kirsty isn’t running right, I don’t have full control and come off straightaway. Whilst soft sand is hard to ride in, it’s great to fall into! Unhurt, and with a little help, I’m back up once again and heading to Marsabit.

I’ve seen giant lizards, monkeys and baboons today, fantastic!

It’s taken eight and a half hours to cover 164 miles, definitely my hardest days riding I can remember. It’s been crazy, and I’ve had it with Kenya. But, in the final hour, Kirsty starts running smoothly, and I hit a nice flow over the rough road. I’m finally really enjoying the day, and soon hit Marsabit. The welcome is welcome, the hotel both reasonable and has hot water. By the time Brian and Anna arrive, I’m hungry, and we order three chiken tikkas and three beers. The perfect end to a great day.  The only thing that will hold us up from here would be rain...  

Day 42: Lake Langano – Moyales

Impact is inevitable, the girl just turns and sprints straight into my path, swerving as hard as I can, I can’t avoid it.

Waking up after the best night’s sleep ever, we pack quickly for an 0700 departure. But my gosh, this place is super stunning. It’s a shame we can’t hang around, but we say our goodbyes and hit the road.

Ethiopia continues to stun. I am not kidding you, this is the most most stunning country ever. The kids seem to reign in their annoying ways the further south you go, but I’m gobsmacked after each turn. If ever there was a country for fly drive... Although, things are a little different in the 4x4. When we meet up at lunch, I’m excitedly talking about the views and the roads. Brian is just saying how shit the villages are. I’ve been completely blown away by Ethiopia, but it’s a country of two sides. Whilst the beauty is undoubted, the people are so uneducated. In a country of 85 million people, where 85% live outside cities, and mainly on the main roads, people are completely unaware of the dangers of the road. Yesterday a young girl ran out in front of me, I was hard on the brakes, and the horn, she didn’t look at any point and was barely missed. Numerous times people walk out into the road without looking. Road deaths must be massive. The girl that ran out in front of me today was even luckier. I don’t want to blow my own trumpet, but I do a lot of biking, from racing at over 150mph to rallies in Wales and riding everyday in London. It gives you a definite advantage when you want to avoid hitting something. If I’d have touched my brake, I’d have hit her at about 50mph. As it was, whatever was in her hands was struck by my pannier and blown everywhere. I didn’t stop. In my mirrors I saw her run back to her friends,  if she was injured there’s nothing I can do to help, and I don’t want to be caught up in some ‘discussion’ with some angry villagers. I hope that’s the worst traffic incident we both have.

Can’t really say much after that, I rescued a giant tortoise (about the same size as dad’s belly) from traffic (well I stopped traffic so he could get across the road), saw some mini deer (duiker) and have just been bewildered by it all. Looking forwards to Kenya!

Day 41: Addis Ababa – Lake Langano

We’re planning on having half a day in Addis, then heading south. It’s approx one and a half days to the border. Bit of bike maintenance in the morning, I take my wheels to Flavio, the KTM guy in Addis. It’s just a few minor bits, and the total labour cost for three hours or so is £5. Sweet!

Getting out of Addis is another matter. I’m following the 4x4, and the 4x4 is getting lost! After about 30 mins we’re almost back where we started, so we jump on the satnavs and head straight south. We’d been advised against this, but we’ve got to do it now. It’s no big deal in the end, and 45 mins later we’re busting out of Addis. Although busting may be an overstatement. It’s a single carriageway road, with all the city traffic on it. It’s pretty tedious, but after another hour, we’re in freer flowing.

After about 130 miles, I’m exhausted, tired from not sleeping well last night due to a dodgy spag bol. The campsite is down 10 miles of tricky unsurfaced road, and when we get to it, it isn’t open! The security speak to the boss, and then he asks us to come to his house. He asks ‘What’s up?’, in an American accent! ‘Um, we’re looking for a campsite!’. Turns out the campsite shut about a year ago, but he immediately offers his garden as somewhere to camp, legend. He also invites us in for a beer once we’ve setup, but I’m so dead, I hit my bed, at eight thirty in the evening! Brian and Anna pop in and have a really nice evening though!

Day 40: Bahir Dar – Addis Ababa

The, best, days, riding, ever. Approx 350 miles of mountain roads, great weather and great, great scenery. Eight hours is quite a long time for that mileage, but it’s all been corners, short straights and mountain inclines/declines. The road has many different textures, the first 165 miles the tarmac is nice and easy, and when I stop and refill Brian and Anna are approx 20 mins behind. It’s only taken us about three hours, so the second half should be easy. It isn’t. Unsurfaced roads, collapsed roads, it’s all going on! Plus, numerous eagles, and a hoard of vultures! The animal sighting’s have already been epic...

Rolling into Addis, it’s pretty straightforward getting to Wim’s Place, and as I park up and ask for a room, and Aussy accent exclaims: “Don’t let him stay here!” Ray, the aussy is  sat at the table with a big grin, time for a beer!

Day 39: Lake Tana – Bahir Dar

Well, this morning we’re counting the price of waiting with children surrounding the vehicles. The amount of kit stolen from Rob’s bike is pretty impressive. Camping stove, screw rivers, fuel funnels, and the old punctured inner tube from my bike. That, plus the fact lots of the kids throw stones have really changed our view/feelings of Ethiopia. From a joyous beautiful place, it’s now a tense and conflicting experience. We’re all tense passing villages, are we going to get waves or stones!?

The morning couldn’t have started off much worse, well, that’s not true. Cheesy scrambled eggs followed by pancakes with syrup for breakfast cannot be beaten! But, then we leave. We don’t have a big day ahead, approx 130 miles, thankfully. My fuel range is approx 300 miles, and I’m currently at about 260. The first five petrol stations have no petrol. Shit. Shit. Shit. Then, another front tyre puncture, thankfully a slow puncture. This is shit, and I’m worrying about the time left in the day for getting  to our destination. Rob Roy and Rob head off looking for fuel whilst I carry out another tyre repair. All sorted though, and it’s time to split up.

I’m looking forwards to riding alone, but it’s actually really sad to split from Rob. We’ll catch up later, and whilst some days have been challenging, many more have been good fun. And being able to laugh at each other has been brilliant. Ultimately we have different time frames, and it’s time for us to go our own ways. We’ll catch up in SA probably. Rob heads off with Rob Roy, up into the Simian mountains, and I head towards Addis Ababa with Brian and Anna in their 4x4. It’s a pretty good deal, Rob’s going to get to do some cool touring that I’d love to do, but B&A have a similar time scale to myself.

The ride to Bahir Dar has some spectacular views, and fantastic mountain switch back tarmac to enjoy, it’s got to be one of the best. But, due to the front tyre pics I’ve had, I’ve no confidence in the front of the bike. This isn’t a bad thing, as it means I ride more conservatively, which is probably safer and would def keep mum happy . And also, due to the hostility of some of the locals, I’m a little tense. These feelings together really take the magic away from the experience. But some of the views are still above this, and simply staggering.

75% of the population (total population 85million) live in the countryside, and the roads are littered with people, it’s quite astonishing. Some of the animals are so cute, especially the six puppies from the campsite which were the cutest things in the world!

Day 38: Doka – Lake Tana, Ethiopia ‘F*ck You Africa’

Cor, Ethiopia! This has to be the most fantastically amazing country ever, although it is a day of many ups, and some downs...

We’re up at six, on the road by about seven, and rolling into Qallabat (the border town) about an hour later or so. Check out of Sudan is OK, although we have to pay to get out... We’re more apprehensive about Ethiopia though, there are stories of it being problematic getting vehicles in. But things couldn’t be farther from the truth. Immigration takes about 15 minutes, and then we cross the road for customs. It’s a typical border town, lots of people milling about, it’s odd after the emptiness of the plains of Sudan. Customs is easy, the guy (dressed in jeans and an unbuttoned red check shirt) quickly stamps  the carnet, and without a single charge, we’re in. The best border crossing in Africa to date!

Then, we’re off. Ethiopia is so dramatically different to everything we’ve seen so far, and completely not what I was expecting. It is a green and lush land, but the people are the best ever. Everyone is waving and smiling and happy. It’s so refreshing. But we’re all gob smacked by the countryside, it’s a patch work quilt of green, mixing parts of Colombia, Ireland, UK and many other places, stunning.

I’m heading the group, and quite far ahead, when I have the scariest moment of my biking experience. Coming around a 60mph right hand bend, the front tyre suddenly looses all pressure, I’m sure I’m coming off. The only scenarios running through my head are of how to land on the tarmac when the bike washes out completely. I can’t describe the sensation, like trying to battle an animal. I’m not looking forwards to what’s about to happen, but thankfully I don’t have time to think. I just, just about manage to keep the bike upright, but my heart is going and my hands shaking.

Whilst all this is going on, Rob is having a bit of fun too. Heading through a village, his favourite animal jumps out in front of him. He slams on the brakes, but there isn’t any time, he slams into the donkey... He’s OK, and I only hear about it when he rocks up to my stricken bike, two lucky excapes.

We’re on the road again, riding more conservatively, and then we hit the edge of the Simian Mountains. Even this little hint of what’s about is phenomenal. It’s like cocaine for the eyes. Although, riding more conservatively is def the right approach, around every corner is either a herd of cows/donkeys/oxen or a rock fall. Intoxicated.

Randomly, we see a sign for Kim&Tim Camping, sounds good, so we head towards that. It’s a bit of a trek, approx 30 miles out of the way, and all on unsurfaced road. Unsurfaced road is normally no problem, but this road is so bumpy it’s not funny. And before we know it, Rob’s front mudguard is hanging off and needs to be tended to. We all stop so Rob can carry out the fix, a million kids surround us, just like on telly! It’s really cute, there’re lots of bewildered eyes and laughing and hands being shaked. But we need to head, it’s starting to get dark. Through another village, and kids are cheering and pointing, there’s the turning for Kim&Tim’s, sweet! Rob Roy and I head down the path, it’s pretty hard going, lots of loose rocks and steep hills. We make it. But where’s Rob? I head back in search, rounding a corner, I spot him, standing next to his bike lying on it’s side. And he’s tired. Between us we can’t lift the bike, then he notices loads of his kit has been stolen by those kids! ‘Fuck You Africa’ he screams! We spy three or four more kids, descending towards him. I ride as quick as I can to get more help, and then we get him on the road. The road is tougher into the camp, and I stick next to him giving encouragement. It’s a good effort, and we all make it, high five!

And, the campsite has def been worth it, Tim grabs us all a beer, and Kim offers to make a curry, and it’s a beautifully organised camp. We’re all very happy J

Day 37: Khartoum – Doka

A bit of a slow start to the morning, we’re all ready to go, but it appears the 4x4 team aren’t. Well, half are, they’ve gone, but Brian and Anna are a little sleepy, so we set of an hour or so later. But without them, we’ll catch up at the camp site near Doka...

Yesterday I saw the biggest blackest cloud of smoke ever, and today we find out what was it’s cause. A petrol station, burnt to the ground, and eerily, three burnt out shells of cars on the forecourt.

Up the road, and all is going reasonably well, until we come to a check point. It doesn’t look right, so Rob and I swerve around it, but they manage to stop Rob Roy (pulling a gun on someone does that...). This leaves us in limbo, what’ll we do? Well, after ten minutes, we head back. And the stop point looks much more official (even if only one person is only half in uniform). So, the big boss is pissed with us, and dicks us around for about an hour. But we learn our lesson and shoot off, heading towards Ethiopia...

The further we head south, the more ‘African’ things are becoming. We’re passing out of the desert, and onto big African plains, and I even see my first straw huts of the trip, getting excited!

Camp is a great little setting by the road, but unfortunately camels think s this too and have crapped everywhere! We find the clearest spot we can, and set in for the night.

Day 36: Khartoum – Tubing Hell....

A great night’s sleep in the tent in the Blue Nile Yacht Club. We’ve a plan in place, Rob is heading out on his bike to get stuff, hopefully some new inner tubes for me and a few bits he needs. Of pressing concern is the mileage I need to cover to make my appointment in Losaka. The average mileage required has steadily grown from 133 a day to 166 a day. We’ll have a sit down with Rob, discuss riding etiquette and how to get ahead of the mileage race....

But, Rob has had a disastrous day. He’s spent most of the morning getting lost trying to find inner tubes for me, oil for Rob Roy and a front tyre for his bike. And when he gets back, he’s lost his iPhone during the process, and hasn’t been able to get a front tyre. So now he’s off for more shopping whilst I get my bike fixed.

So, I fit the first, all is going very smoothly, happy days. Well, until I start pumping it up, the bastard has split! I thought it was a bit cheap for a tube, but no worries, I’ve got one more tube to try. It’s a lot harder than usual, mainly because it’s about 39c! Anyway, I throw the second tube in, sweating like a horse. It’s in, pump it up, it’s past where the last one burst, then boosh, the second wanker tube has blown. By the beard of Zeus this is shit. Lucky it’s in a city and not in the desert, and lucky Rob Roy also has a kit, we repair my original tube, fit it, all OK. I bust in to town and manage to find a repair kit and another tube. Back to the camp, test the kit, it’s all good and the tube looks better than the last two... And, all done just in time to grab a bite(after a shower...)!

Early to bed, we’re heading towards Ethiopia tomorrow!

Day 35: Merowe – Khartoum

Up at the break of dawn after a great night’s sleep, we do a little exploring of Merowe. First though, I try and ride my bike up a massive sand hill. I do better than I expected, about three quarters of the way, and I don’t get stuck! Then, into the pyramids. We’re the only ones there, it’s quite a nice experience, but I must admit I’ve seen quite a few tombs/temples now and my sense of wonder has dispersed.

We agree on stopping twice on the way to Khartoum, once at Gharta and once at Narak. Flying down the road, Rob leading, I see the sign for Gharta, Rob flies by, I follow and then notice no one else following. I pull over and wait for Rob, but he’s long gone, so I head back and regroup with The Others. A quick drink and we head to the temple. It’s a 30km across country drive, no tarmac, lots of random paths, and some patches of soft sand. It takes ages, but it’s pretty good fun, completely in the wild riding across sand and dirt. We lose Rob Roy at some point, and when we get to the temple after about an hour, it hasn’t been worth it! But it’s been fun, so we set of for the second temple. This one isn’t far, but it’s across a dried up river bed, and as we approach my bike starts sinking! Turning away from the river bed, and out of the incredibly soft sand, I’m OK. But looking ahead, Ray (one of the aussie’s) is in a bit of trouble. His 3.5t 4x4 is sinking rather than moving, doh. Quick sit rep, I can’t help, so try and get across the river, and then watch the guys work it out. Brian ends up towing Ray out, but it takes about an hour, it’s completely out of nowhere and just highlights how dangerous these conditions can be. But I’m well adjusted to them now, and am flying along, until I feel the front wheel going odd, puncture. We’ll make it to the temple, and I’ll sort it whilst the others look around.

Disastrously, I’ve brought two rear inner tubes, rather than one front one rear. And it’s my front that’s gone. No worries, I’ve two repair kits. Brilliantly the first kit isn’t working, but thankfully the second one does. We’re an hour from the road, I don’t really want to be stuck here, and I’m parched from working on the bike in the heat, not sweet. But just as I’m putting it all back together, the guys come back, all disappointed with the temple! No worries, we head off. And the riding back is fun, firing across the loose dirt and gravel, Kirsty is dancing and we’re having a great time, yeeee haw! After what seems all day, we hit the tarmac, Khartoum is a couple of hours away. Rob Roy has reported in, he’s there already. And we’re in hot pursuit, for the first hour. Then, whilst pulling back into my lane after passing a lorry, the front of my bike tucks under, but not quite enough to have me off. The front’s gone down again, that was close. We’re sixty miles out, I’ll try and pump it up and drive carefully rather than taking the wheel off again. I do this three more times before making it safely to camp, but we make it, to the Blue Nile Yacht Club, high five!

Tomorrow will be a rest day, and also a chance to get a couple of replacement inner tubes and a puncture repair kit, before we head for Ethiopia....

Day 34: Kerma – Merowe Pyramids

What a great start to the day, rising at about half six to a gorgeous morning after a good night’s sleep. Riding back through the dust bowl off road is easier for everyone and good fun, and then we blast off towards Atbara. Stopping after 500m for fuel! After that, it’s plane sailing. There’s one road to follow, and we’re heading through desert mainly. It’s exciting as we don’t get this at home, but boring because it’s desert! Half way, we stop  at Karima for fuel and to look at the maps a little. Fueled, there looks like two roads to Merowe, one definitely paved, and one perhaps unpaved. Rob is in a bit of a huff during the conversation, not being very open. We look at the options, I’d like to take the unpaved, he the paved, but we agree to decide when we hit the fork. I head off first, followed by Rob and then Rob Roy. Out of the petrol station we have to take a right towards the main road out. I take the right and check my mirrors. Rob, has gone straight on? Rob Roy stops at the junction. What’s Rob doing!? I spin around, talk with Rob Roy, we’re def going the right way, I head to see if Rob has stopped the other side of the junction, he hasn’t, he’s gone. Exactly like in Egypt. I’m not going to spend half an hour looking/waiting for him, he could’ve let us know what he wanted to do. It’s OK, we’ll have to have a chat about it though. We wait five minutes, I go and look, no sign, we head off. Around the corner, we bump into the other group in the 4x4s by some pretty cool pyramids. Sweet. A few quick pics and we head off, still no sign of Rob. Oh well, Rob Roy and I have a great days ride through the desert, rode through a sandstorm at one point, made it out the other side and caught up with the two 4x4s again. And Rob is at the camp too, so all’s OK and it’s been a good fun day.

Hopefully Khartoum tomorrow....

Day 33: Wadi Halfa – Kerma

Happy Bonfire Night! In eager anticipation of the ferry, we’re eating breakfast at half seven, hoping for the boat’s arrival at half eight. The plan is, get the bikes and try and make it south of Dongola, approx 250 miles.

The barge sails into view at about half ten. No great surprise! And our bikes surrounded by boxes of shipments isn’t either, but the freestanding oven and hob that is sitting atop Rob’s bike wasn’t expected...We set about unloading some of the barges other goods, so we can get access to the bikes and get them off. It only takes half an hour or so (there’s three of us now). And once unloaded, the fixer asks for a tip for the barge staff. We’re not too impressed and politely decline.

The paperwork is pretty easy, and we’re on the road by about oneish. Everyone is very excited. This is brilliant! And it’s pretty hard to get lost, as the town only has one road in and out. We’re soon flying along, the tarmac is good, and the desert enthralling. Although, it isn’t a classic desert, there’re plenty of rock outcrops and small hills. Still, it’s good fun riding, and great to be on the road. Fuel isn’t as cheap as Egypt, but £4 for 125 miles is quite good value.

About 50 miles out of town, we catch Chris, the guy walking to Somaliland. It was 39c in the shade when we left, I can’t believe this guy. He’s pulling a small trolley with his stuff in it, and heading through the desert. He’s aiming for 30mpd (miles per day!). We all stop and say hello, giving him bottles of water and a pair of sunglasses (he’s lost his). As we set off, and we head up the road, I’ve got to admit I’m concerned for his safety. He’s about 28 and from near Scarborough, and it’s impossible for him to carry enough food and water through this section. He’s completely reliant on water from passing traffic. Reassuringly, he’s been offered lifts from locals and plenty of water thus far, but fingers crossed for him...

50 miles later, and we’re catching the cyclists. These guys are in good form, but the sun is already taking it’s toll. They said their thermometer read over 45c yesterday.. Again, food and water is handed over, and they’ve broken their stove, so I donate mine (I’m not the biggest fan of camping, so it’s no great sacrifice. I can’t describe how tough this must be, it’ll take Chris at least 17 days to get to Khartoum, the cyclist probably ten days, but all through desert. Good luck amigos...

We buzz on until the sun starts to set, we haven’t made Dongola, so we turn off and head into the dust to wild camp. We’re in farmland, so we can’t go just anywhere, but down a path is a small dusty patch we can use apparently. Following Roy and Avril (the aussies), both Rob and Robroy (our new biker buddy from SA) come off their bikes in the pretty tough dust. It’s very light and makes it tricky as it directs the front wheel the way it wants to go, rather than the way you want it to go. But after half an hour of battling, we make it to the spot and set camp under the stars. Literally. There’s no man made light, and the moon isn’t anywhere to be seen. And as there’s no chance of rain, I have no flysheet over the tent. As I lie back, I’m looking straight up at the stars, and listening to the odd donkey!