Hitting deep sand, just as its getting really hot is really not too good for morale...

refreshing river

Anyhow we pushed on and came to a glorious sustained downhill which led us to this beautiful little river that we could rest by until late afternoon when the blistering heat starts to soften.

rouge

The river was also an excellent opportunity to wash the pound of red dust off that made us both look like we have been using too much fake tan!

Late afternoon came, we carried on, rejuvenated by the cool river water and the thought that tomorrow we would be finishing our 1200km off road section and be back of wonderful, beautiful tar!!

The following morning we were up early, almost as excited as if it were Christmas morning, just 10km later there it was; all our dreams come true, some ramshackled little guesthouses, homes and a few shops and that fantastic invention – TAAARRRMAAAC!

It was just how we remembered it: Flat, smooth and above all fast... it's amazing how the things that you take for granted in everyday life are so much more exciting when you've experienced life without them! A hot shower, water you can drink straight from the tap, (for that matter a tap!) a bar of Cadburys Dairy Milk chocolate, electricity... and all those things were awaiting and beckoning us towards Rwanda.

Even with Tar, hills are hills and huge hills are huge hills and as we approached the Rwandan border we started to realise why it is called 'Land of a Thousand Hills'. Fortunately God had pity on little Rob and Polly struggling up the hills and sent a UN convoy of armoured cars, tanks, and trucks loaded on the back of huge slow lorries. As they trundeled past us we tried to grab hold, we missed the first couple but the drivers soon saw what we were trying to do so graciously slowed down just enough so we could catch the rear bracket and then they were off again... with us attached!

huge hills

Of course we let go at the top of the hills, as we were far faster than the lorries going downhill!

Soon the GPS was beeping at us to let us know were were a few km from the Rwandan border.

rwanda/tanzania border

And then we saw it, the beautiful River Kagera, Tanzania to the south, Rwanda to the north.
Crossing the border was a joy, the normal shady characters hassling and changing money were instead well dressed, hospitable and polite (but did still try to give us a terrible exchange rate!)

RWANDA:

“Rwanda is spectacular to behold. Throughout it's center, a winding succession of steep, tightly terraced sloped radiates out from small roadside settlements and solitary compounds. Gashes of red clay and black loam mark fresh hoe work; eucalyptus trees flash silver against brilliant green tea plantations; banana trees are everywhere. On the theme of hills, Rwanda produces countless variations: jagged rain forests, round shouldered buttes, undulating moors, broad swells of savanna, volcanic peaks sharp as filed teeth. During the rainy season, the clouds are huge, low and fast, mists cling to the highland hollows, lightening flickers through the nights, and during the day the land is lustrous.” (Philip Gourevitch)

Once over the border and cycling again, it was as if we had crossed into a different continent rather than a different country. In comparison to Tanzania where you would see a small village every 20km or so in Rwanda there were people everywhere.

Every square inch of the steep sided hills were inhabited and intensively cultivated. As we greeted people in English/French/Swahili/Zulu they looked at us blankly (we were going to have to learn some Kinyarwandan).

Seeing the men working the fields, pounding maze to make flour and chopping the banana palms, we couldn't help our minds drifting back to the Genocide of 1994 when 1million of the 8 million inhabitants were massacred over 100 days by their neighbours using these same hoes, clubs and machetes.

As dusk approached we started to look for a place to stay (there wouldn't be the possibility of wild camping here). The little houses became closer to one another and we realised we were in a village. Stopping to ask if they knew of a place to stay we were immediately surrounded by a group of 50 people, looking at us both bemused and amused! Soon the villager who could speak English was summoned – Laurent was very helpful and we were welcomed into a small guesthouse and bar with no sign to distinguish it from the neighbour's home. Although everyone was exceptionally friendly we both slept badly thanks to some very persistent mosquitoes, eery night-time noises and dreams of people being massacred in the courtyard outside our bedroom. (maybe we've been on larium too long)

1st night in rwanda

Laurent and our host after our first night in Rwanda

Bleary eyed we pushed on, motivated by the possibility of a night in crisp white sheets in Kigali. However 60km before Kigali we hit Kayanza, a nice little town with a beautiful lake and guesthouse. This guesthouse had everything we had dreamed of and more, HOT running water, electricity, clean linen and a beautiful view!

seeds of peace

While in Kayonza we got chatting to a smartly dressed young man who was picking up some racing bikers in full kit.

Simon Peter had lost his entire family in the genocide and was living on the streets in Kigali when he was taken in by a young man and taken along to church. Since becoming a Christian he has managed to forgive those who he saw brutally kill his family and is now working with a charity giving hope to other street children. Meeting him was such an inspiration and helped calm our bad dreams and reinforce the sense that this is a hopeful country, that forgiveness and reconciliation are possible and the future is from bleak.

friendly wildlife

We found it difficult to prise ourselves away from the luxury of Seeds of Peace and the friendly birdlife but we did eventually manage to get our bums back on the bikes and get to Kigali.

Our new friend Simon Peter had recommended a place to stay in Kigali run by an American missionary organisation that he works with, on our arrival we were befriended by Rhonda, A middle aged American in Rwanda to facilitate the adoption of Rwandan orphans into American homes. She immediately befriended us and the following day took us on a tour of town.

rwandan coffee

After a morning of peaceful luxury drinking coffee and buying 'essentials' like jam and chocolate we were jarred out of our little western bubble and confronted with a frightening image of Rwanda, of feelings that remain so raw and a peace that is so fragile.

Genicidaires

Driving ahead of us in the rush hour traffic was the truck in the photo above. The men are convicted genocidaires. They are dressed in pink to remind them and onlookers how the water ran pink with blood during those 100 days of terror. As we watched them they tried to catch our attention, winking, smiling, waving. Not wanting to encourage their jovial behaviour we tried to ignore them.

We then stopped at some traffic lights. That moment a minibus pulled up next to us. A thick-set black man in his late thirties sat a few rows back in the bus with a look of such intense hatred frozen on his face. He glared at the genocidaires, not blinking, not moving for 2 or 3 minutes while we waited for the lights to change. The hatred was so charged I half expected him to break out the side of the bus and attack the men.

The lights changed. We followed the truck left as the minibus headed straight on – the man still fixing the convicts with his stare. We passed a crowd of young men on the pavement and were horrified to see one of them give the prisoners the 'thumbs up' seeming to respect and show appreciation for what they stood for. The murderers smiled and acknowledged the young man with a nod of the head.

mass grave - one of many

As we cycle around Rwanda we don't go far before passing a mass grave, and there is no doubt that most of the people we pass either witnessed or committed horrific things in 1994, and yet life carries on, and the people you talk to are normal and in fact very friendly individuals.

After the genoside there were 120 000 prisoners in jails only designed to hold 40 000, in some prisons people slept at night criss crossed ontop of each other. It was predicted that even with a fully functioning judicial system (most judges, lawyers and clerks had either been killed or were instrumental in the killing so have fled the country) it would take almost 200 years to process all the cases.

In Janurary 2003 many of those prisoners started to be released. The President had passed a decree that any elderly, sick or lower-level killers who had confessed their crimes could be released, they would then be tried in their own villages by their own elders, with the other villagers acting as witnesses in traditional 'Gacaca courts'. Billboards went up around the country “The Truth Heals”.

“If only there were evil people somewhere committing evil deeds and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts trough the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart.” Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Imagine yourself as a survivor, who lost most or all of your family, seeing your neighbors who killed your loved ones returning to their homes and intact families.

Desmond Tutu wrote; “There is no future without forgiveness” but imagine the reality of how difficult forgiving these people is. However, many (but by no means all) have asked for forgiveness and are trying to help the survivors in practical ways. Society seems to be rebuilding.

beautiful hills

Of the countries we have passed through, Rwanda seems the most hopeful and progressive. It is a country that has plummed the depths of human depravity and now appears to be united behind a visionary and non corrupt Christian president (Paul Kigame – the leader of the rebel RPF army that invaded from Uganda and stopped the slaughter). If forgiveness and reconciliation can continue to free the hearts of individuals in Rwanda there is no doubt that it will prosper.

Dust bowl (Kibondo) to Kigali (RWANDA!) remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Really, really beautiful....

Not long before we reached the market town of Uvinza the road was completely blocked by a logging lorry. The whole of the front half had sheared off the axle and the wheels lay several metres away from the rest of the vehicle. Some guys were busy cutting an alternative route through the surrounding bush as it was going to be some time before the lorry could be moved. We really wanted to get a picture but since it was a lorry full of logs in a nature reserve where logging is illegal, and since there were lots of men around with machetes we thought it best to carry on our way and wave inanely.

Downhill towards Uvinza.

The morning after we went through Uvinza was a Saturday. Once we got passed the mossies who were maliciously waiting for us outsied our tent from the evening before we got caught up in the early morning market run to Kasulu.

Everyone was laden with their produce on the way to the market.

The highlight of Kasulu for us was stopping in at a guest house to get some chai tea and chipattas and discovering that at this guest house the chipattas were actually bona fide delicious pancakes. Rob ate about ten!!

We passed a couple of refugee camps after Kasulu. The road runs parallel to the southern border of Burundi. The Tanzanian authorities are in the process of closing down the camps. There are several in this North Western corner of Tanzania and some of them have been there since the'70's. Since a lot of the occupants were born in the camps they must now make the choice between repatriation or claiming Tanzanian citizenship. In the latter case they will be re-located to far off South Eastern Tanzania just above Mozambique since the strong-holds of refugees close to the borders of their original countries contributes to the instability of the surrounding countries and the cross border flow is hard to monitor and control.

One day after a night under a very starry sky in the middle of the bush we came shortly upon a group of three or four armed soldiers on a bridge over a river in a seemingly very remote place. They were very friendly when we greeted them but were very resistant to questions about their posting. Being so close to the Burundi border we assume they were involved in monitoring the flow of people from there. From this point we saw the outline of steep hills in the far distance rising out of the flat bush. I tried to ignore them and banished from my mind the thought we would be huffing up them soon. However they wouldn't be ignored forever and eventually we found ourselves climbing steeply with a steadily growing crowd of children pacing us easily at a very leisurely walk!

But what goes up must come down and we did manage to outpace the very persistent (and very coy, curious) children in the end.

The storm clouds darkened overhead and mid-afternoon the rainy season dramatically announced it's late arrival on the dry dusty roads which turned to slime beneath our tyres. The thought that the end of our epic dirt-road stretch was only a day or two away made the cycling no easier. However the thought of the warm cosy bed we planned to sleep in that night in a guest house in the next town, Kibondo, kept us going. Which was good because there was a set of six or seven hills, each one bigger than the previous which seriously pushed me to contemplate stopping then and there and throwing the tent up in the pouring rain just 7km shy of our destination!!

Not all of the traffic managed to navigate the mud as deftly as us. I don't know how long the driver of this lorry would have waited before sleeping in a bed again if it wasn't for the very convenient JCB just out of the shot on it's way down to pull him out.

As we slipped and slid along in the mud dreaming of crisp white sheets and hot water Rob mused, given the chances of running water AND electricity were slim, which would be preferable; no water or no leccy? In his musings however he didn't anticipate the crisp white sheets would be grey and there would be neither water nor electricity!! On first impressions Kibondo was a big anti-climax – dust bowl turned mud bath!! But we were there, and we managed, and soon we were warm, dry and clean. We decided to take a rest day there and as with so many things our circumstances seemed brighter in the warm light of the morning sun. We wandered around the town popping into various shops re-stocking our supplies and then sheltered in our room from the hot midday sun eating copious amounts of fresh fruit and veg – watermelon, pineapple, bananas and avocado on fresh bread, and then we feasted again in the evening on tomato, onion and pepper sauce splashed liberally on ooodles of hot Italian spaghetti, from Italy, which bizarrely you can find in even the most remote parts of Africa – Italy's contribution to foreign aid perhaps!!??!!

Excellent Pancakes remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Just spotted this article about us online - is quite fun - check it out.

http://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/cardiff-news/2009/10/07/alarms-in-africa-for-cycling-pair-91466-24867639/#

We're Famous! (well in South Wales anyway!) remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We headed off towards Katavi National Park, the 3rd biggest in Tanzania, known for having the highest density of mammals of all the country's parks. Unlike the Serengetti with 2 million visitors per year, Katavi is so remote that it only receives about 200 tourists.

Despite the vast amounts of animals Chris assured us that they seldom see animals by the 'main road' and “if you run into trouble you can always hitch a lift with a passing vehicle”

As we drew closer to the park we stopped seeing villages and people, stopped seeing bicycle tracks on the road and started being pestered by Tsetses. The odd bite rapidly turned into a terrifying swarm of flies buzzing around us. As previously mentioned tsetses are nasty – very nasty. Each bite is like a needle prick, they pay little attention to DEET, are able to bite through clothes and have no problem keeping up with bicycles even when peddling frantically! In fact any movement, such as trying to swat them off your face, attracts them.

The words - “if you run into trouble you can always hitch a lift” were hollow comfort as the only vehicle we saw all day was a broken down lorry whose very talkative (and lonely) driver had been waiting on the road for 7 days.

Eventually we could bare it no more. We dashed off the side of the road and threw up the tent. Pol dived inside while I quickly donned another pair of shorts, then trousers, then a second tee shirt, fleece and finally a tee shirt over my head so I could unpack the bags.

Rob wearing literally all his clothes for protection against the flesh-eating flies.

Recovering in the tent sitting in an ever increasing puddle of sweat killing the rogue flies who had got in with us we assessed the situation; it was still 3 hours til sunset, the tree we had chosen for shade had scarce foliage and the temperature was 37 °C

Feeling sorry for ourselves and appraising the situation sitting in the tent (that's blood from a single squished fly on pol's shirt!)

Killing tsetses is a messy business!

As night fell we found to our great relief that the flies went away.. we discussed our options:
1.Cycle in the dark to avoid tsetses – too risky because of lions, leopards, eles and buffalo.
2.Pitch our tent on the road and wait for a vehicle – that would be admitting defeat, and like the lorry driver we met, we could be waiting a very long time!!
3.Start cycling at first light, wear lots of clothes and hopefully we will be able to get out of the park before we melt!

We chose option 3 and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Twice in the night we were woken by a large animal moving through the bush next to the tent and once by elephants breaking trees, (although we were technically out of the park there was no way for the animals to know as there is no boundary fence – Tanzanian parks are simply areas of wilderness where people are not allowed to hunt the wildlife and harvest the wood)

We started the next day nervous but optimistic – as long as we cycle really fast and don't run into elephants, lion or buffalo we'll be fine. However within 2 minutes of leaving the tent we saw fresh ele prints in the road. Within 20 minutes it was light and we each had a swarm of tsetses buzzing around us, at 40 minutes it was starting to get hot! We still had 50 km to go and it was not looking good.

As we got deeper into the park we started seeing literally hundreds of fresh animal prints on the road; buffalo, giraffe, various different buck, genet, cervil, but most worrying were the many many elephant tracks.

As we had experienced in Botswana elephants take an instant dislike to cylists – bikes are unfamiliar objects, move fast and almost silently and somehow seem to pose a threat worth defending the heard from! But unlike Botswana where the roads were tar, if we did get charged here, there would be no way we could outpace an ele on a dirt road.

We prayed and sang allowed as we cycled. It was good to have something to focus on other than the persistent swarm of tsetses or the ever increasing number of elephant tracks in the dust. We also reasoned that our singing would give the animals some warning of our approach so that they wouldn't be startled. Even with the singing we saw several giraffe and a few different varieties of antelope.

Just as I thought I could take no more of the bites and stress of an immanent elephant encounter our prayers were answered. We heard a sound.... it was a vehicle. Skidding to a halt we put the bikes broadside across the road. There was no way this guy was going to get past us without taking us with him!

It was a huge 4x4, fully equipped for the African bush driven by Earnest and Gay from Jo'burg.
“Hi guys, can we help?”
“We're being eaten alive by tsetse's and there are elephant spore everywhere.. can we get a lift?!”
“Yes, sure.....” then a pause for thought.... “But we can't fit you and the bikes in”
confusion filled my mind.... I had seldom seen a bigger 4x4 and it only had 2 passengers!... but we had been given this response before, once in Swaziland, and twice when avoiding elephants in Botswana – every time we had successfully persuaded the driver and fitted us and our kit in.
“We'll tie the bikes on the roof” I said.
“It's a soft top, you'll break it” my heart sank and a horrible sick feeling filled my stomach – so close to salvation – yet so far. Earnest must have seen the look of dismay and fear on our faces.
“Don't worry,” he said “we'll make a plan!” - gotta love South Africans!

Within 10 minutes the bikes were strapped onto the back of the truck and Pol and I hopped in the boot, Pol sitting by a tiny window, myself on the portaloo. We couldn't have been more happy and relieved.

Earnest and Gay were leading a small convoy of 4x4s on their way to Ethiopia. They seemed intrigued by our trip and invited us to join them for dinner. We accepted enthusiastically and were treated to G&T on ice from cut crystal followed by red wine and fillet steak, roast potatoes, peas and butternut then carrot cake, peaches, cream and coffee - all brought from SA. (each 4x4 had a big freezer full of the finest South African produce!). Very different to our usual diet of tomatoes, onions, beans and rice.

After dinner we crashed into bed in a little campsite 20meters from a pool filled with about 30 fat hippos.

The hippo pool 20 meters from our tent.

Despite being exhausted we had another restless night.. the hippos were very noisy and very close. At one point Pol heard a noise, looking out of the tent door she was a huge shape towering above her. It was a Giraffe 3 meters away munching on the acacia next to our tent!!

The following morning we headed back into the park but this time in the safety of a Land Cruiser, with a ranger, a rifle and 3 swiss guys.

The park really did live up to it's reputation. Full of game including many lion, (we saw 3 adult females and 5 cubs)

Wide open spaces.

Heathy zebras

and one that fell victim to the lions.

Not what you want to bump into on a bike.....-

.....especially when there's cubs around!

Hundreds of fat hippo filling every little piece of water in the park

However we couldn't hang around game viewing.. We still have plenty more miles of bad dirt roads to cover before we get to Rwanda.

Tsetse Terror and Lazy Lions remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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If you want to donate to Lulisandla Kwmtwana (foster care program. Caring for orphaned children in the community – they currently need a 4x4 to access children in remote areas) (UK taxpayers can claim Gift Aid)

Follow these simple steps:
Click: DONATE to Lulisandla Kwmtwana (on favourite links, bottom Rt of this page)
Type in your details
Type in amount you want to donate
Write in 'Details of Donation': Long Way Home - Lulisandla Kwmtwana
Tick the Gift Aid box if you are a UK tax payer

There is curretly a problem with donating to the hipporoller project. We are working on a solution.

Thankyou for your support.

PLEASE SPONSOR US! remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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With a spring in our step we headed off towards Lake Tanganyika – 160km away – 2 nice short days. They turned out to be more challanging than anticipated – Rough hilly roads and Pol's gear cable snapped so she had to cycle the final 130km in 1 gear!!

We found a beautiful spot to wildcamp by a dry riverbed and were able to have a shower standing on polished flat rocks – feeling as if we were on a 5* safari – no photo I'm afraid folks – but rest assured we are now looking quite chiselled!

The following day we had an introduction to the infamous Tsetse fly. Careering down a steep rocky track I felt a terrible sharp prick in my butt... then another and another.

“I think I'm suddenly developing a terrible allergy to that soap powder” I shouted to Pol.

“No” she said”there are big flies on your bum”

The flies are the size of an English horse fly but much quicker and more robust. They have no trouble biting through clothes. You'll never be fast enough to swat one which is a pointless exercise anyway as they are crush proof. The locals say the only way to kill them is to pull the head off the body. We also later found out that they are attracted to black and blue objects so we'll be covering up with light colored clothing for the rest of this leg.

Soon we had our first glimpse of our goal – the fabled, beautiful Lake Tanganyika- the longest and second deepest lake in the world. 700km long and over 1500m deep!

By midday we were at our destination 'Tanganyika Adventure Safaris' the only tourist accommodation by the lake for 100s of km. Run and owned by the very enthusiastic Chris and Louise it was well worth the battle with the dusty roads.

We spent 5 extremely relaxing days camping in the shade of an enormous mango tree.

Sitting in our hammock.

We made use of the canoes and the luxurious facilities

Eating amazing food freshly plucked from the garden

Strolls to the nearby village to buy supplies made a change from pedalling.

The ruins of a monastery remind us of the 'White Fathers' who walked here over 100 years ago from Dar es Salaam – a trek that took 3 months and saw almost half of them dying from malaria and dysentery.

The commitment of the missionaries back then was brought home to me as I read extracts of the diary of a 23 yr old Scottish engineer. William McEwen, whose task it was to build the road between Lake Tanganyika and Lake Malawi to open up the centre of Africa to Livingstone's 3 C's. Christianity, Commerce and Civilisation - via a network of roads joining the great lakes of the rift valley. A potential trade route covering 1500 miles needing only 275 miles of overland transport.

Mc Ewan came out in the 1880s at a time when 1 in 4 Europeans who spent more than a year in Central/East Africa mysteriously died of fever and/or dysentry. He was only 23 yet was expected to lead a group of over 100 'natives' to create a road over a mountain range. The only tools for the workers were crow bars and picks and payment was not with cash (as there was no formal economy) but with calico cloth by the yard.

McEwan's problems included 'wild beasts' and the ruthless Angoni tribe which would regularly raid and kill his African workers. But his main problem, as with all the missionaries, was ill health. For more than half of his time on the project he was either incapacitated with 'fever, jaundice and diarrhoea' or caring for his friend and colleague Monro with the same. An entry on Christmas day 1884 reads:

“who could think of Christmas with the surroundings of an African village.... Monro was looking bad this morning. I myself wasn't feeling quite the thing, but it doesn't do for 2 white men to be ill at once, so of course I gave way”

Boxing day saw them both too unwell to get out of bed and the following June McEwan died, 'jaundiced, pale and Haemmoraging from everywhere'

His road now looks very similar to how it would have done 100 yrs ago but the African Churches are more numerous and the ruthless Angoni and wild animals have since been pacified or shot and the present day mzungus are taking antimalarials!!

Watching the fishermen go out at sunset, their kerosine lanterns light up the lake at night as if they are trying to rival the stars in the crystal clear night sky.

Rob managed to get his hands on a speargun and satisfied his hunting instincts again. Shooting enough for everyone to feast on fish cooked in banana leaves for our last dinner in this little piece of paradise. (Ironically this fish is an 'englishman' but this could well be the first one shot by an Englisman!)

More lakeside lounging remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The road from Mbeya to Tanganyika saw yet another complete change in environment.. From lush tea and banana plantations to dry arid inhospitable terrain.

Our first day led us to a horrible border town called Tunduma (Tanzania/Zambia border). We had heard the town was unsafe but we could have guessed... money changers, guys in bars, everything decrepid and dusty, many guest houses but none that looked free from bed bugs.. we headed to the catholic mission for refuge. After some confusion we found 'Father Rocky' who did not allow us to put up our tent but warmly welcomed us into his own home where he had warm beds, delicious food and most importantly a HOT shower (our first for over a week)

Father Willi, Father Rocky and the 'Cooker'

The road to the lake was hard work and our suspension earned it's place on the trip. Mile after mile of gravel, sand, bone jarring corregations in the compacted mud, dust - inches deep in places and hiding the deep ruts beneath. As we lost height the temperature soared and water became more scarce.

As our thermometer hit 42.5 °C and we hit more hills and corregations the trucks haired passed us pumping blinding plumes of dust - forcing us to stop, close our eyes and hold our breath - words from Stanley's diary came flooding back.

“The torrid heat, the miasma exhaled from the soil, the giant cane-grass suffocating the wayfarer, the rabid fury of the native guarding every entry and exit, the unspeakable misery of life, the utter absence of every comfort, the bitterness which each day heaps upon the poor white man's head, and the little – too little – promise of success one feels on entering it.”

And we remembered that life wasn't that bad... yet.

We were drinking large volumes of water and it was difficult to come by at times. We stopped by a village and asked
“Where's the water pump?” Making a pumping action. The guy looked bewildered and pointed us to the only person in the area who spoke english -
“Do you want water or a pump?” he asked as a middle aged man came running up with a bike pump.
“Water” I answered pointing to our empty bottles.
“Ahh – come with me”
He kindly started filling the water bottles from a jug and I was horrified to see what was pouring into our bottles - Pale cloudy fluid.
“Is it water?” I asked, not wanting to seem too stupid
“Yes of course”
“Is it boiled?”
“Yes of course, and don't you want that bottle filled too?” pointing to the one now concealed behind my back.
“Umm.. yes.. that would be..... lovely”

Dubious water.....

But no obstacle to hardened african travellers!

One benefit of this route is that mzungus are a novelty and the local population are consequently friendly and respectful.

The children, instead of demanding pens, sweets, money or clothing simply stare with wonderment and giggle when they they see a Mzungu do something that they also do... like eating peanuts!

At one village a hundred wonderstruck kids stood over the road gawping at us sipping luke warm coke when they were nearly crushed by a steamroller coming one way and a lorry carrerring the other – fortunately one of the adults spotted the impending annihilation of an entire generation and cleared the road - just in the nick of time!

The next excitement occurred at another well deserved break – Pol was sitting on the verge and spotted 2 oxen toeing a sled full of firewood (note no wheels) wanting to take a memory of this timeless image she pulled out the camera.

But the cows took offense – had she asked permission for photography? When they were within a meter they surged towards her, flailing their horns. Images flashed into my mind of zulus I had seen in Mseleni who had been attacked similarly and came away with huge gashes – usually to the face. But pol was too fast and somehow managed to summersault backwards – away from the malicious beasts. Thwarted and annoyed by the screams of all the onlookers the cows careered off into the bush with the upturned sled bouncing behind and the herder yelling and shaking his long stick. We continued on – but slightly slower as pol had pulled her hamstring in all the excitement.

Is that a crazy tan line or simply grime?

With our food supplies dwindling we resorted to chewing on sugar cane – which was surprisingly good!

The bikes taking a well earned break!

Many things are different to back home – hotels are usually far less glamorous, but quite a bit cheaper!

We eventually arrived at Sumbawangwa in the dark. We had covered 230km of very bad road under a very hot sun in 2 days. Feeling very pleased with ourselves we washed off about half a kilo of dust and grime and proceeded to the restaurant for food. The beef curry was well worth the long wait. We wolfed it down – but it proved too much for Pol - she turned ashen white and queezy – as she sat on the floor with head between knees – I paid the bill and we limped up to our room. WE WERE EXHAUSTED! After a rejuvinating cup of sweet cocoa we collapsed into bed.

Dust, Heat and Grimy Water remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The corner shop!

However fish could be found in all of them if you looked hard enough.

We caused much excitement as we passed through these small villages – even the cockerels seemed to crow “Aba Zuuuungu, Aba Zuuuuuungu” (White people)

A beautiful spot by a stream in the middle of vast woodland that we passed through about 40km into the day would have been the perfect place to set up camp but since it was only about 10am we made do with replenishing our water and enjoying a peaceful break. We knew we would be in the bush that night as there would be nowhere for miles.

By the time we did start looking for a place to stop the villages were larger and more frequent. We carried on nearly until sunset and left the road unspotted heading for a small mango orchard. The trees provided good cover and we washed and set up camp. We had bought plenty of tomatoes and onions and were sat preparing a sauce for our spaghetti when out of the darkness we heard a cough. We saw 3 or 4 men approaching from the other side of the tent. They hadn't seen us but with the fire burning and our things scattered around it was inevitable that they would. We greeted them and they approached towering over us with their pangas (machetes) and the heavy smell of alcohol lingering in the air around them. We rose quickly to our feet feeling pretty nervous. There were more voices and looking to our left we saw a group of maybe a dozen more men coming from the direction of the road all of them brandishing clubs, hoes or more pangas.

It seemed as though all the men from the village had turned out. And they had! But not as we feared it might be to clear out the abazungu. They were in search of the cow thief! Apparently someone had been through the village during the day and taken a cow and must now be hiding out somewhere on the outskirts. The alarm was raised and the fighting aged men gathered. They were sweeping through the area when our torch was spotted from the road. The men were coming to retrieve the cow and deal out justice. But we were OK. They were very friendly and assured us we were safe, taking pains to put us at our ease. We chatted for a while and then off they went to complete their errand. As the quiet returned we sat down to eat our meal under the mangos. Our thoughts turned to the cow thief hiding out in the bush. We did not envy him in the slightest.

We slept well. Packed up early and headed on. We never heard any more about the cow, or the thief. The remnants of the steep hills we had defeated over the last couple of days stretched themselves out over the next 20km until they became very manageable undulating waves. We covered good distances and re-fuelled frequently at the markets and roadside stalls on plump tomatoes, sugar-coated dough balls, freshly baked bread, bananas and convenient sized packets of home grown peanuts roasted, salted, bagged and sold outside peoples huts. We compared techniques for carrying loads on bicycles amongst the cycling fraternity...

We were quite confused to hear a plaintive bleat from the back of this bike! It crescendoed into a panicked cry whenever we got too close behind.

The original “people mover” - We saw another guy with his wife on the pannier rack carrying a child on her back and their son sitting on the cross bar – 4 on 1 bike!

and we bought tomatoes from the cutest tomato vendor in Zambia.

Initially gathered around the table waving to us her friends scattered when we stopped and drew near. She was quite overwhelmed and there was a long silence when we asked her how she was but then the shock subsided and she answered with the most beautiful clarity in her voice “I'm very well thank you and how are you?” Perfect English. It was however her only English and we did have a little trouble negotiating our change – in the most innocent way possible.

We enjoyed more stunning scenery...

Looking South to Mozambique

... and we terrified a little girl who came across us as we were taking a break in a banana plantation. She was only about 4 and she didn't notice us until she was very close. When she did see us she just screamed hysterically and then turned and fled screaming all the way.

Before we knew it we were through the town of Chipata ascending towards the Zambia – Malawi border which runs along the watershed of the Zambezi and Shire Rivers – the Shire River flowing out of the South of Lake Malawi.

Malawi is instantly distinct from Zambia. The most obvious difference is the housing. Small brick houses replace the toadstoolesque grass huts and every village has at least one homestead where bricks are being made.

But there are more subtle differences too. There is a greater variety of freshly grown veg available along the sides of the road and people are busy cutting potatoes and cooking chips and goats meat at the markets. The people seem industrious. Metal buckets outside peoples houses overflowing with peanuts replace the small packets bought in Zambia. A cup sits in the bucket and the nuts are bought by the scoopfull. Rob heroically saved one of these buckets from a cheeky group of goats by charging them at full speed as the villagers shouted and clapped. They quickly scattered.

We snacked on goats meat and chips

As we pedalled along we were puzzled by mats spread out in the villages covered in something bright and white, dazzling us in the sunlight. It turned out to be maize meal. The women work hard getting flour from their maize. It's a lengthy process. They wash the corn broken off the cobs and then crush it. Some villages have an electric mill where the corn is crushed but those who live further away do it themselves in giant wooden pestle and mortars. Then the powder is washed again and spread out on reed mats to dry in the sun before being packed away in sacks until it's needed. It forms the staple diet, being made into a porridge called “paap” or “sheema” which looks a bit like mash potato.

We camped once in Malawi under the cover of some banana palms and a termite mound before reaching Lilongwe. Rob didn't sleep too well since his larium kicked in and he heard a psychopath screaming menacingly in the night!

An early start got us to Lilongwe by lunch time where we were given the most wonderful welcome by the Taylors. We spent several days relaxing, enjoying Janet and Dons company and hospitality feeling pleased at the completion of another leg of our journey and looking forward to our trip on the boat up Lake Malawi.

The Long Way to Lilongwe : Part 2 remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Dad – I took this one for you!

The highlight of Lusaka was meeting 2 spaniards – Aitor and Laura - who have cycled together from India via the Middle East.. they are currently heading to Capetown, where they will turn around and head back up the West Coast of Africa to Spain! It makes our trip look like a teddy bear's picnic, especially when we found out that Igor actually started his trip in SE Asia !

Hardcore spaniards

We had a good early start from Lusaka... however after a short distance we discovered that Rob wasn't going to get very far after his excellent effort the night before with an 'all you can eat' curry.

After a very slow 20km we arrived at a very nice campsite and Rob spent the rest of the day recovering..

Rob sleeping off the 'all you can eat' curry with his new friend.

The cycling was tough.... with hills, heat and a strong headwind for much of the way....

Hills we can deal with.. just put the bike in a low gear, keep pedalling and soon you have a nice view... heat isn't too bad.. just need to keep drinking... but headwind... there is nothing more de-moralising than a strong headwind..

It can literally stop you in your tracks... today I slogged up a long hill.. the only thing keeping me sane was the thought of the cruise down the other side... but as I started the downhill I had to keep pedalling almost as hard - then before I knew it I was struggling up the next hill.. of course you look forward to the flat parts.. but they are the worst as the wind really picks up the pace and there is no respite. The buses speed past at 120km/hr wondering why the umzungu cyclist is only going at 10km/h and the umzungu cyclist wonders why he's not on the bus!

Anyway apart from the misery of the headwind...

The scenery has been stunning and there have been stretches of miles at a time between the little villages.

A characteristic feature of rural Zambian life is the production and sale of charcoal. Heaps of smouldering wood are covered in soil so they resemble small burial mounds. After a week the mound is excavated and the charcoal skillfully packed into sacks with at least as much balanced on top as inside.

The sacks are for sale all along the road but the more enterprising businessmen load up their bicycles and head for the towns where they can get a bit more for their efforts.

This guy was making the 80km round trip into Lusaka to peddle his wares!

The day we headed on after Rob recovered was HOT. Hills began to grow out of the flat and we drank a lot.

Mid afternoon our water was getting low. We had a potential campsite lined up but it was still a long way off and we were considering camping in the bush. We stopped at a water pump to refill only to find it had broken the previous month so we headed on. Before long a water lorry with 2 guys in the back passed us on the road. We saw the liquid splashing in the 2 huge vats. It beeped its horn several times and stopped up ahead at the village. We pedalled hard and Rob got in line before all the villagers got there. I checked with the guys that they didn't mind us taking some explaining we had a few empty bottles to fill and we needed quite a lot. They were extremely jovial “Yes. It's fine. We have some, you have some, we all are happy.” Zambians really are so nice and obliging!! I grinned.
“Is it drinking water?” I asked “Is it good to drink?” I gestured with my hand as though drinking from an imaginary glass. “Yes, yes. Very good to drink. Very sweet!” Sweet – It's funny the way language use subtly shifts. Rob shuffled his way up the queue. At the same moment we caught sight of the liquid flowing out of the vats – it was grey - a grey, milky liquid.
“It's beer!!”
“Yes, beer, very good to drink, very sweet.”
It was Chibuku – a local beer made from maize. We put our bottles away and pedalled off laughing, much to the disappointment of the locals and the guys in the back. But we hadn't seen the last of them. Shortly later we found a functioning pump to quench our thirst and filled our bottles there.

We spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening leapfrogging the beer truck as it stopped to inebriate the villages in its path washing away our chances of finding a safe place to camp with the Chibuku as it went. We were just starting to re-assess our options when the wobbly writing “dam-view camping and charlets” came into view at the foot of a large hill and we headed a few hundred metres off the road to a beautiful dam escaping the hill until the next day.

The revenue from the camp site goes towards an orphanage in the village. We bathed in hot water from a huge kettle heated over a fire before cooking our supper on the coals.

The next day the hills only got bigger.
We enjoyed stopping at the little markets along the way.

We found delicious samosas filled with potato and rice here and also dough balls which were soon to form a major part of our diet!

and enjoyed reaching the campsite at the Luangwa River even more. We sat on the deck of the lodge slumped in the chairs too exhausted to move. We were so tired that after we'd showered (just in time to avoid an influx of “overlanders”) we didn't even mind spending about £8 on a beef burger each!

The Long Way to Lilongwe : Part 1 remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Forewarned that the main road was being reconstructed we braced ourselves for the bumpy detour. However to our delight we found a big enough gap in the barrier for our bikes to slip through.

Road closed – but not to cyclists!!!

The result was traffic free cycling on clay as smooth as glass.

The first day took us through miles of beautiful, sparsely populated bush. We were quite surprised at the lack of construction activity going on given it was mid week. The only people we came across were the teams of obligatory “flag wavers” we've become so used to during our time in Africa. We still don't know whether the red flag they frantically wave is a signal to stop or to go. We just smile and wave as we cycle on by. Their role on a closed road is even less clear especially when we later learnt that it was a day off for the road building team!

Late afternoon we passed the construction teams camp and had a nice chat with a chap sitting on a digger who turned out to be the guard. He kindly refilled our water bottles and waved us on our way. We soon found a perfect spot to camp a few kilometers on before we got too close to a nearby village.

The camping spot - Pol is also in this picture somewhere!!

The grass was quite long so while I went off to collect firewood Rob prepared to clear an area for the tent and campfire..............

I hadn't been gone long – there was plenty of wood around and I managed to find some nice, big, thick branches. I made my way back with them to the bikes and found Rob - surrounded by fire, LOTS of fire. With no rain for months and a strong wind the flames were rapidly growing. I dropped the wood and we started beating at the flames with some branches. Just as we got one part under control the flames would surge somewhere else before re-igniting the patch we'd just contained. We rushed around trying our best to get a grip on the fire. A couple of times we had to rescue our kit– including a canister of petrol – as the fire was spreading fast in all directions. We alternated between manicly hitting at the flames and standing back in disbelief gazing at the chaos we had unleashed.

From the flat the flames raced towards a nearby hillock topped with a tree. They hit the bank and roared up, doubling, tripling in size, licking hungrily at the branches of the tree above. The sky was filling with smoke and disorientated birds flayed their roosts squawking coarsely. We had definitely lost control.
My mind darted to the signs we saw so often in South Africa depicting a bewildered buck with the caption below: “Fire stops with you!! Call 0027”.

Fire starts with us.

We needed a new plan. Rob would stay and fight the flames and I would go for help. I pedalled away as fast as I could passing a pair of lilac breasted rollers sitting haplessly on a log beyond the blaze. The guard had said there were 300 men at the construction camp – I figured 10 Zambian guys with bush-fire know how would do the trick.

It wasn't long before I saw a lone figure approaching in the distance. I quickened my pace and slammed to a halt in front of what turned out to be the guard who had filled our water bottles earlier. Brushing aside his inquiries concerning my well-being in an attempt to instill some urgency I tried to explain what had happened. He gathered I needed some help and in the next instance I was pedalling furiously back to the fire – local fire expert loaded on the pannier rack.

We reached the fire and the guard leapt to action seeing instantly the nature of help required. Shouting to Rob I spun the bike round and headed once more towards the camp to get more men!!

• ****************************

As I beat at one edge of the fire with a stick and my feet the leading edge of the fire raced away from me faster than I was extinguishing the leeward edge... I started to pray.. “Dear God.. put this fire out!.. make it go towards the road... help me put it out..” as I prayed I seemed to make some headway.. slowly catching up the leading edge.. as my confidence grew in my ability the flames hit another thick patch of dry grass and flared away.

Then Pol arrived back with the guard from the camp.. like our guardian angel he ran in, broke of a big branch with leaves on (mine was leafless) and started putting out the fire left right and centre.. he knew which bits we could ignore and which needed urgent attention - within 30mins it was out.. The guard stated triumphantly... “30minutes.. all out.. knock off now.. I very strong at putting out fire!” I wanted to hug him but thought it inappropriate - so gave him a firm handshake. I explained to him.. “I prayed , you came, we put the fire out”. “Yes” he said, “Jesus is real!”

• ******************************

I thought it would be simple. 10 men, a backie, 4-5km back to the fire – it shouldn't take long. I was wrong. I hadn't factored in the multiple language barriers I would have to break through first!! The Chinese have the contract for building the roads. They oversee the Zambian workers and call all the shots in very ropey English.

Eventually a rather stern, poker faced Chinese man grasped the levity of the situation and took control. A crowd of Zambian men gathered, recalled from their various quarters where they were enjoying a rare day off. The Chinese man barked at a frightening volume and the men started piling in the back of a big truck.

“You. In front. Show us where.” I hauled myself up into the front of the truck and we headed off into the night.

I was feeling uneasy. It was a while now since I left the guard with Rob so I knew one of two things had happened – either the fire was raging out of control, or it was simply out. I had lent hard on the Chinese overseers to persuade them to help. I had a truck full of about 20 workers wrenched from their rest and I was scanning the bush for the fire. It would be hard to say whether I would have preferred the fire at that point to be out or out of control!

The truck hurtled down the road. I saw a light up ahead – that could be Rob. I strained my eyes. No, it was 2 black guys. With a headtorch? We passed them by. It was Rob and the guard.

I shouted. “Stop!”. The truck stopped and we reversed. The Chinese guy wound down his window and Rob grinned up at us. “It's out. It's all ok!”. A mixture of relief and embarrassment flooded through me. I climbed out the truck and thanked the scary Chinese man. The guard hopped into the back of the truck and the other Zambian guys handed me down my bike. I thanked them and apologised for the false alarm. They couldn't have been kinder – not a flicker of reproachment.

• ******************************

That night we didn't really feel like cooking! After a tin of cold baked beans we crawled exhausted into the tent and slept very soundly.

Leaving Livingstone remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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This little guy gave us a delicious bream straight from the Zambezi.

The bird and animal life was astounding

Giant King Fisher

Fish Eagles

all sorts of other birds enjoying sunset after a day's fishing!

Hungry Crocs

Sleepy Crocs

a few giraffes

and tonnes of elephants

We nipped across the river to a little island called Pole Pole in Namibia. The sum total of the amenities were a toilet and a bar. Total inhabitants were 5 people including us and were were privileged to be the first people this year to camp on the island.. partly because it was about 4ft under water a few months ago and partly because it isn't a campsite!

Pol on Pole Pole in hammock

Watching the locals Fish

The following day was to be our day of 4 countries.

We started the day in Namibia on Pole Pole.

Returned to Botswana

Put a foot into Zimbabwe.. and then discovered that it was 55US$ each for the visa.

So we returned to Botswana

However we didn't miss the opportunity to make a few dollars before heading to a Backpackers in Livingstone.

No elephants on this road but we did spot a couple of Giraffes peering at us through the bush!
And tomorrow we are off to the falls..

Chobe National park to Livingstone remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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NOW WITH PHOTOS!!!

On our last night in Planet Baobab we met 2 cool Saffa's (South Africans)who were returning from a fishing trip in the Okavango. Both were very experienced in the bush.. one was a Kruger game ranger.. they were very envious of our trip and very much encouraged us to avoid pricey campsites and rather wildcamp.. especially along the 300km of very wild road between between us and Vic Falls.

So off we went with new enthusiasm and courage to face the African bush!

We had a very successful ride from Planet Baobab to Nata.. we only had 2 short breaks:

one break for breakfast

and one break to check out this horiffic Baobab!

We arrived in Nata at 1.15 for lunch and to do a blog update having covered 97km.

20km out of Nata we stopped again to set up our camp. Within seconds off the road there was fresh evidence of elephants.. we ummed and ahhed but decided this was likely to be the same anywhere so went ahead and set up camp.

Pol collected firewood veraciously and we soon had enough to keep our campfire going for a week... (as she pointed out – one of the advantages of camping in elephant territory is that there is no shortage of firewood!)

The most satisfying shower i've ever had!

Wildcamping

Emerging from the bush!

S0 in a very positive frame of mind we headed off in high spirits.. the plan was to cycle 40km to a the only lodge on the 300km road for breakfast and then continue deep into the bush for 2 more nights of wildcamping. Polly even said it would be nice to run into some elephants to round off the experience!

Polly's wish was soon granted. Cycling fast with a good tailwind, Polly infront, me 10m behind - I saw the elephant... CLOSE.... standing beside the road ears flapping... I wasn't quite sure what to do (didn't want to shout and aggravate the animal) I managed to say “Pol, Pol, Pol” which made her look up and spot the animal less than 20m ahead of her.

I'm not sure how she did it but in a blink of an eye she had stopped, turned her fully laden bike 180 and was about 100m away!

That ele was soon joined by a friend and they would not move away from the road..

eventually they did move about 50m off the road and we snuck past in the shadow of a passing lorry..

On we trundlled slower and keeping a close eye on the bush.. the road narrowed and the bush became thick, directly abutting the road.

I was in the lead when I heard Pol exclaim “ELEPHANT!” I looked into the bush and there he was – a huge tusker 2-3m off the road 15-20m ahead. I screeched to a halt which startled him and he careered off into the bush. I swung the bike round and started pedalling when Pol screamed.. “Quick Rob, he's coming for you!” I looked over my shoulder and there he was.. coming back onto the road, full speed, tail bolt upright and looking pissed off! We pedalled fast and he didn't pursue us far.

We decided to hitch the last 12km to our breakfast stop!

Standing by the road waiting for a lift every rustle of leaves and movement out the corner of our eyes seemed like another ele. Waiting for what seemed like an eternity no cars passed.. we prayed that God would send us a lift soon and sure enough within a minute an empty school bus driven by a Christain school principle turned up and in we hopped.

From the school bus we saw that the ele we ran into was on the edge of a big family group with small babies, either side of the road. We definitely made the right decision to hitch!

Elephant sands rapidly turned form our breakfast stop to a full day chill out and regroup. We hitched a ride with 2 Amercan photographers – Justin and Buddy for the remainder of 'Elephant Country' to a nice safe campsite in Kasane – 85km from vic Falls.

Our kit in the back of Buddy's bakkie.

Having traversed the part of Africa with the highest density of elephants outside a protected area I think we can relax and enjoy some Game viewing in the spectacular Chobe National Park. Next stop Vic Falls!

Elephant Encounters remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The Limpopo river forms the border between the 2 countries and we were suprised to find no bridge over it!

Luckily it hasn't rained for a month so shoes came off and we headed across - keeping a close look out for cros and potholes... Unfortunatley Rob saw a deep pothole too late, fell off the bike and almost lost the contents of his bar box!! Lucky our bags are waterproof!

On the Botswana side there was immediately evidence of elephants close by. We had been told that Botswana has a serious elephant problem with 130,000 too many. A huge cull had been organised but the "greenies" have paid the government E25 000 000 Euros not to shoot them. The eles are running riot and Botswana is rapidly turning from savannah to dessert.

We found our way to the campsite and it looked as if there had been a war in it - broken trees everywhere and very fresh ele prints..... then we saw them.

and made a hasty retreat!

We were shown to an alternative campsite (the active one) which did look elephant free and Rob was given a fishing rod to try and catch dinner.... so all was well.

However as soon as darkness came so did the elephants!

We had a very restless night stoking the camp fire every 2 hrs and listening to trumpeting elephants breaking trees on three sides of the tent!

Polly very happy by our precious fire after having survived the night!

The rest of Botswana has been flat flat flat, hot in the day and cold at night. Villages are scarce and campsites even scarcer.

Magnificent Baobabs break the monotony of the long straight roads.

Next stop is Vic Falls but to get there we have to traverse 300km of bad road with abundant elephants, occasional lion and no campsites...... watch our blog in about 5 days to see how it went....!

Bombing along in Botswana remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We ended up here because Polly has been unwell for almost a week from a dodgy KFC so we've been taking it easy.. having short cycling days or rest days.. since in the last 6 days we've only covered about 160km.

This is proper 'frontier Afrikaner country'. The land is flat, dry and scrubby with cattle herds, impala, warthogs, blessbock, orix, jackals and lots of guinea fowl.

On the road to Alldays Polly was feeling rough and we were having a rest in the long grass. A very friendly man, wearing snazzy pink specks, stopped to see if we were OK. We told him we were fine but needed a place to stay in Alldays.. You should stay in Cosa-Nostra its my place! 'Great' We thought and promptly forgot the name.

An hour later we arrived in Alldays.. a dusty little town with a couple of nice little cafes.. we asked the guy in the cafe if he knew of anywhere that would allow us to pitch our tent.. he called his nephew.. who said we could pitch it for free at his place.. we happily headed off to the nice nephew's place and when we got there the receptionist (who we found in the bar) said that the boss called and we must stay in one of the rooms for free!

It was a nice little place.. Straw roofed buildings set in lush tropical gardens with a nice swimming pool. The only slightly disconcerting thing were the dozens of skulls, antlers, pelvises and a giraffe neck hanging from one of the trees! But we figured it was a hunting lodge and that's how you decorate hunting lodges.

Later that evening we met the boss (Derk) – sure enough the same guy who had come across us on the road.. Pol was still not well so went to bed while I joined the hunters in the bar.. Derk was such a nice guy – very generous and always ordering new drinks when mine was half full. He tried to convince me that he was nothing special.. just grew up here and built this lodge.. however I knew there was something more.. and at about midnight it all came out – he organised safaris for rich people, had introduced Dodi to Lady Di, Elton John was a good friend and Pavarotti and
koffi Annan had sat on my bar stool! And tomorrow I was to go on a safari hunt too!

The next day I headed off with Kok (Dirk's tracker) Dirk's 270 rifle and 2 bullets (that's all we could find!).

So a few hours later and no shots fired Dirk turned up –
“Tuesday night is Guinea fowl night and you must come too!”
“So how do you shoot the guinea fowl?” I asked.
“We drive around in the bakkie and start world war III!”
“Are there many guinea fowl?”
“you'll see more than 1000!”

So the beers, semi automatic shotgun, 200 bullets, the rifle, the tracker – Kok and the mates – Pete and Bours, were loaded in the bakkie and off we went.

I've never seen anything like it..Alcohol, testosterone, speed, a semi automatic shotgun and killing stuff was an extremely potent combination. We would take turns with the shotgun, standing up front – burning across the fields at breakneck speeds in the hunt of flocks of Guinea fowl. When one was spotted we would go even faster and when in range the shooting would start as the panicked birds scattered in all directions.

And then we saw 'the pig'... resting the rifle on pete's shoulder - I could just make it out through the bushes.. KABOOM – wow that rifle was powerful and the pig bolted.. so did Kok brandishing a kitchen knife. 2 minutes later Kok emerged from the scrub carrying the warthog that was almost as big as him... and pete exclaimed - “you shot a f**** pig, you shot a f**** pig!”

Kok struggling back with 'the pig'

Kok, Bours, Pete and Dirk.

So now we're a few days behind schedule, pol's on the mend and we're gonna have to do some hitch hiking to make up time and we are loving it!!

Alldays and the Guinea Fowl Hunt remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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23rd - 29th June

705km to date

Bulembu – Diphuti (just inside Limpopo)

Swaziland – Mpumalanga SA – Limpopo SA

Highlights:

The kindness of strangers
Thank you Paul, Isla, Irma & Johan and so many people who have encouraged and waved us on.

and the kindness of friends
Thanks Sian for being so helpful sending us the stuff from Zululand Cycles

Incredible view from Gods Window over the 3rd largest canyon in the world (What is the 2nd largest by the way?)

Blyde River Canyon (that's “Blader” River Canyon for those who don't speak Africans)

We used our camping stove for the first time on the trip having carried it 500km!!

Sunset over the Three Rondavels

Coming down Abel Erasmus Pass – We had thought this MASSIVE hill from Mpumalanga into Limpopo was going to be uphill – IT WASN'T ;0)

Does anyone know who abel erasmus was?

Pol still looks like a girl even though all her hair is gone!!

Read on..............

Bulembu (Swaziland) to Barberton (South Africa).

Even standard border posts aren't fast but thankfully getting through the border back into South Africa was not as slow as feared.

After the border was an absolutely stunning mountain pass.

Then on to Nelspruit. time in Nelspruit was successful.. We managed to get multiple vaccinations (plus an extra one for free!?) a sleeping bag, some stuff to fix the tent, and some US dollars.. But we did decide that it was a bit of a hole and got out ASAP.

No Picture!!

Nelspruit to Sabie is part of the Mpumalanga Panoramic Route – and with very good reason. The views made up for all the climbing.

In Sabie we stayed at a cosy back packers renovated by Garth and Managed by Kenneth. Kenneth is from Malawi. Malawi (Blantyre) to Nelspruit only takes a day by car!!! We stayed an extra night as we were sooo tired after some very bad night’s sleep in Nelspruit.

After Sabie we moved onward and upward to Graskop.. 30km uphill.. The residents of the the area seemed to want us to get very lazy and fat.. Half way there a lady stopped and insisted on carrying our bags as the next bit was particularly steep!

We then met the owners of Autumn Breath B&B who insisted on giving us very tasty high calorie food and then drove us to the local view points to save our legs for tomorrow! Awesome!

Irma makes very tasty waffles and pancakes

Rob burning off some surplus energy having been driven to Gods Window.

Johann & Ina – our Graskop guides

Graskop to Blydepoort took us along the Blyde River Canyon. We had stunning views the whole way and the cycling was not as tough as we had feared it might be.

The famous “Pillar” took us right back home to Symonds Yat & we reminisced on happy times climbing with great friends.....

Lunch was at Bourkes Luck Potholes – deep deep potholes in the rock formed by the river where Pol had an amusing chat with a local teenager who lived across the road from the potholes:

Monica: “Where are you from?”

Polly: “I'm from England”

Pause

Monica thoughtfully: “Wow, you really like potholes!”

Today we came from Byldepoort to Diphuti crossing from Mpumalanga into Limpopo. The scenery has been incredible and the descents exhillarating as we came down off the “Kleine Drakensberg”

Another amazing week :0)

Week 2 From Swaziland back to South Africa remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Mseleni to Bulembu - a good start.

Summary of Week 1 16th-22nd June

It was a full week ago now that we left Mseleni.

What has happened in that week - our 1st on the road?

We made it (with a little help from our friends) to the first nights campsite at Lake Jozini and spent a wonderful evening being completely spoilt. Jeanne, Laurence, Henrik, Carri and Merion (so sorry about the spelling) gave us an evening we won’t forget and set us up with a very good start to our trip.

399 Kilometres were covered,

1 set of brake pads were used up,

Swaziland was traversed,

The Jozini road was conquered

and the Ubombo mountains were summited.

We were fed copious amounts of food and treated to a boat safari by Derreck and Odette - Thank you very much.

We said our fond farewells to friends and colleagues in Mseleni. Saying goodbye is always so hard. We will miss everyone there so much.

We were reunited with friends in Northern Swaziland for a truly wonderful and unforgettable weekend of hiking, rugby and banagrams!

Rob got familiar with the bikes gearing mechanisms (thanks Rob :0))

Pol mastered the GPS

The GPS found us and awesome camping spot just before crossing into Swaziland when we were too tired to keep going

We met Qhing Qhing Dlamini at the excellent Ngwavuma Backpackers in Southern Swaziland

We reached the Northern Swaziland border post of Bulembu after as the lonely planet put it a "pretty hilly road" -

just to clarify that's a beautiful but extremely hilly gravel track!!!

We loved Bulembu. The ex-asbestos mine is re-juvenating itself after the collapse of the economy when the mine closed in 2000.

It's been a good week!!



Week 1 - Mseleni to Bulembu remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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If you want to donate to Lulisandla Kwmtwana (foster care programme. Caring for orphaned children in the community – they currently need a 4x4 to access children in remote areas) (UK taxpayers can claim Gift Aid)

Follow these simple steps:
Click: DONATE to Lulisandla Kwmtwana (on favourite links)
Type in amount you want to donate
Tick: SIM project
Write in 'Details of Donation': Long way Home

If you want to donate to Hipporollers.org (a simple solution to water access) follow The Link: DONATE to Hipporoller.org. Write longwayhome in the extra info section. (Gift Aid doesn’t apply as the charity isn’t registered in the UK)

HOW TO SPONSOR US remains copyright of the author robandpol, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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