I’ve been feeling home sick but I’ve been back in Melbourne for four days now, I think I miss Africa already.
Life was good in Africa. I first arrived in Addis Ababa two days before the start of my stage. That gave me plenty of time to do some sight seeing, shopping, meet up with my riding partner from Italy, Carlo. And we did some last minute carbohydrate loading on Ethiopian food and beers.
Merkato Market in Addis Ababa
We were the lycra nomads, life was simple and I loved it. Our life consisted of getting up at 5.30 in the morning, putting on my cycling clothes, brushing my teeth, packing my tent, putting my stuff into a locker, eating breakfast, taking my paper roll for a walk, start riding at 7.30, lunch at 10, second lunch at local town at 12, off my bike by 1.30pm, getting changed, putting up my tent, talk trashing with other riders, drinking hot soup in the 35+ degree heat, dinner at 6 and in bed by 7.30.
Carlo and I refuel ourselves at one of the countless coke stops
The first few days of riding was rather hilly and I spent most of my time riding with the local Ethiopian riders, who are used to doing exercise in the high altitudes. All these guys had very old bikes but natural talent was in their genes. They were more than happy to demonstrate that “it’s the fitness that counts not the bike”.
Alemayehu and his 20kg MTB, which didn't stop him to make me suffer riding up a hill.
CBD cycles in Africa! Addis and I in CBD cycles kit.
Ethiopia has a deep Italian influence from the occupation during WWII, which meant pasta dishes were widely available in the local restaurants so as espresso. Every little town had an espresso machine, ready to give any passing by cyclist a caffeine boost! The roads are beautifully paved thanks to Chinese investments all over the African continent. While there were a lot of complaints amongst other tour riders about the kids in Ethiopia, I was rather lucky not to encounter any flying rocks. The people (mostly kids) I who I greeted really boosted my morale and the time was flying by … or perhaps it was the chanting from the kids saying “you, you, you”, “money, money, money”, “where you go?” like a record player on infinite repeat mode.
On my first rest day in Arba Minch I explored the local market and restaurants with Addis (local cycling champion from Addis Ababa). Internet connections were slow, but the fish were sweet, so as the beer. But I got sick which put me off my bike for the next three days.
local market in Arba Minch
local market in Arba Minch
local market in Arba Minch
macchiato for 20c
Addis and the three layer juice of pineapple, avocado and mango.
Getting sick while travelling is one thing but getting sick during a cycling tour in Africa is a whole new experience of its own. I felt cool in 35 degree heat and the stomach cramps were so bad, I wouldn’t walk nor feel like eating for three days. I spent most of the time in the mini-van with the local boys, sharing some laughter. And as we got further down the South of Ethiopia, into the desert area, the living environment became very harsh. People (mostly kids and women) had to walk miles with big containers on their backs to gather water. The kids here weren’t asking for money but water bottles, chanting “Highland, Highland, Highland” (Highland water was the first bottled water company in Ethiopia) instead of “money, money, money”. They also showed off their tribal dance moves in bid to get an empty water bottle from us. During this time, I saw the changes in landscape, tribes and people. Sadly I also saw tourists behave like colonial settlers in the early 1900s or handing out money to the locals, which has created a culture of dependency across Africa. I crossed the border into Kenya and left Ethiopia with mixed emotions.
dance off for empty water bottle
Picking a good line to ride is one of the most important rules in off-road riding, but riding on the East Africa Highway defied the rules. As we entered the Dida Galgalu Desert we encountered the infamous lava rock road and there simply were no lines to pick. It was like riding on a river bed hour after hour, not a tree in sight and to make matters worse, the sun was blistering. I love rough road riding and was telling myself “this is THE stuff I came to Africa to see”. That attitude was quickly changed as I got tired in the afternoons, I chaffed badly and was happy to see the finish line, got changed into my civil clothes as soon as I could. Getting that much needed rest, sipping my hot soup, watching other riders coming into the camp with mouthful of unprintable words. “Ah, life is good” I thought, until the thunderstorm came.
Most of our tents became mini swimming pools in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t pleasant eating dinner out in the wet and trying to sleep in the wet tent had me cursing and asking myself what on earth am I doing here? My head was telling me if the tent fails, perhaps I should hail down a taxi on the highway and head straight to Nairobi regardless what the taxi fare is … but the reality was that I was in the middle of nowhere. The next morning a staff member played AC/DC’s Highway to Hell trying to cheer us up. I just wanted to get on my bike as soon as possible so as not to think about anything else, only to find my cycling bib had a thin lay of sand from storm which didn’t help my bottom that was already badly chaffed. I had to ride standing up for most of the day through corrugated rocks and sand. I was glad to see the hills where I was able to sit and give myself a little break.
East Africa Highway, the lava rock road
lowest point of my stage
the highway to hell
It was amazing that one day I’d be riding in the desert, the next I’d be ascending up a volcano crater with tropical like forest and a well established township where I found Cadbury chocolate, only to get a shock on the next riding day as we descended back into desert and paddled ourselves closer to Nairobi. As we got closer to Mt Kenya / equator, the conditions on all things got a lot better, especially the camp sites. After I got to Nairobi where my stage ended and I handed over the baton to Martin and Rana, I had a few days of R&R and prepared myself for the 25 hour flight back to Australia.
singing performance on day that Tour d'Afrique Foundation donates bicycles in Nairobi
I think the Tour d’Afrique organisers over-rated the stage by calling it Meltdown Madness. Sure there were tough days on the bicycle but it didn’t break me into half as they promised. But what Africa had to offer me was amazing landscapes, freedom, and the beautiful African people with the most beautiful soul and smiles, that melted my heart.
So, I’m feeling home sick in my comfortable home. I miss Africa dearly and I’m counting the days when I can return for a visit.
the unforgettable smiles
