Out of Africa

My last few days in Africa continued to provide both challenges and opportunities!

On my last blog entry I reflected on perhaps the most challenging of days, so the next morning I was quite unsure how I’d pull up. Having emptied the tank it was going to be one of two things – a bang from the start, or a full recovery…there’s rarely an in between! As it turned out it was the latter…a tough but good day on the bike. It was the first time I had witnessed Masi tribe villages all along the road but quickly realised that these were tourist attractions set up to draw in the outside world to see their inner world….but at the prices they charged I decided not to engage but admire from afar. There were countless tourist restaurants off the road charging like an injured bull for a drink, and very pushy sales pitches….being offered carpets on a touring bike seemed the height of optimism!

I stopped at an Islamic street cafe and chatted to the truck drivers who kindly bought me my breakfast. One said he was one of 20 children, the other said he was one of 16. As truck drivers they are rarely at home, lucky to be back once a month. They get paid a pittance and drive crazy hours, using khat to stay awake….what could possibly go wrong. I love these street cafe chats, as you get to see a part of a county a tourist would simply drive past on their way to an airconditioned show room of souvenirs.

In the morning I was blessed with a slight tailwind and overcast weather – it was around 30, so still warm, but so much better than the previous days. I stopped for lunch at a roadside cafe. When I went in it was even spitting with rain! When I came out about 45 minutes later it was like somehow I’d time traveled to another time and day ….it was 37, and a headwind! WTF! Those final 39k that day were a matter of ‘head down, bum up’ and just get the Ks done. The only interruption was coming across a burnt out bus….apparently in the morning this bus was loaded with passengers when the thing exploded…I learnt later no one was injured…..quite how I don’t know given the utter carnage that remained.

The hotel that night was bearable though there seemed to be more wildlife inside than out. The place was somewhat a’buzzing with creepy crawlies of all sizes and shapes. I tried my best to debug and prevent more coming in but alas that was a futile exercise. I spent the evening watching an African Cup footie match with some off duty police officers (who told me about the bus!).

After another sleepless, sweaty, bug riddled night I got going on the final leg to Mombasa. Incredibly, as I was pulling out of the hotel a truck tooted me….it was Dominic from the other day, my roadside rescuer. He pulled over, we gave each other a big hug and shared some stories before saying our goodbyes. He was on his way to Southern Sudan with another load.

Soon the savanna disappeared and urban squalor replaced it. The route took me through shanty towns and what I think was the refuse dump region of the city. It was a mass of impoverished humanity scrapping an existence from the rubbish trucks which spewed out their garbage in to their waiting hands. Suddenly the road disintegrated and there was a gridlock of trucks wrestling to find any bit of remaining tarmac. Amidst this dust storm I patiently pedalled my way through. It took about 45 minutes before a road re-emerged. From there it was downhill to Mombasa. I was quickly back in to the pushing and shoving for position…it’s amazing how quickly you adjust, and whilst it was typical chaos it didn’t faze me one bit. I eventually found my rented unit and was so relieved to see it had an air conditioning unit! Oh joy.

The final few days were spent cycling around Mombasa, along the beaches where Kenya meets the Indian Ocean, and sorting out a bike box for my flight to London.

On my final day of this part of my journey, Kenya had one final ‘gift’. I started the day by cycling the 15k to the bike shop to collect the box, which I then disassembled Bob in to, before getting a tuk tuk to the airport. When I say airport, I mean ‘shed’. No airconditioned airport here! I got fleeced as I always do to get Bob on the flight but money talks here so I knew it was a matter of what the ‘price’ was then halving it….im not good at bartering but I’m getting better. However, just after check in I started to feel that horrible pre-sickness feeling ….those tell tell aches and pains. The flight to Nairobi was short and uneventful. I had to change terminals….no transit option here, you leave one, walk to another and redo ALL the security checks….5 in total! By this time I was feeling bloody awful. Fever, headache, and stomach pain. Nairobi airport also doesn’t do aircon tho it was discernibly cooler so it wasn’t too bad. I had an 8 hour lay over so I found a place to crash. Luckily the flight was on schedule to London leaving at 01:45. By the time we were airborne so were most of my insides! By a quirk of luck a) I was right next to the loos and b) I was able to lie across three seats. It was a wretched flight but it would have been so much more so had it not been for a) and b) above! By some miracle both Bob and I arrived at the same time AND at the same airport….London on a wet cold winters morning.

Whatever it was that caused the fever and stomach problems stayed around for another two days but after fasting it to death, life has started to return to normal! Whatever that is. I came here to be with my father and I got to do that today in earnest. It’s a distressing, humbling experience to see your father in such an incapacitated condition, and also a privilege to be able to care for him at this time when he has lost the ability to do most things for himself. I knew immediately it was the right decision to be here with him, no question.

Thanks to all who leave comments on the blog – they are all read. And all deeply appreciated.

Ironing sans electricity. This guy irons all day to earn a few Shilling to feed his family.