Really!?!?! Get out?! The entire African continent? Yup!
Click on the map to see where my travels will take me over the next 4 months. This is the basic schedule with dates and locations. All camps are approximations.
Technology is a wonderful thing… when it works. Depending on connectivity and the wonders of the internet, you MAY be able to track me (and the Tour) on a daily basis. If everything works and I have access to a data connection…
It’s amazing the difference a few degrees Celsius and the lack of sun can make. Despite the ride being 140km I finished it easily. Overcast clouds made the 29C bearable. I even had excess energy to climb a massive set of stairs to check out a massive monument to some fallen general who died after being wounded in a great battle with sheep!
Ok, it probably wasn’t sheep. Apples translation from the photo I took of the descriptive text was a bit muddled.
Part of what powered me up the bazillion steps was this new drink I discovered – Sting! It tastes like a liquid cherry Freezy and it probably had twice the sugar a normal Coke would have. I loved it, but wow did it come with a HARD sugar crash. I was pedalling along fine one moment, and the next…energy level crashes to zero.
Wah, wah!
I pulled over to the side of the road to rest and try and rekindle my energy levels, when all of a sudden it just started pouring rain! It must have snuck up from behind me because I didn’t see it coming.
It soaked me to the bone in a matter of seconds but, oh how wonderful it was! It instantly revitalized me, and after covering my saddle bag with its rain cover I resumed my ride in fast forward!
The last 16km to the hotel were in torrential rain, and it was glorious. The roads turned into rivers and the massive ditches on the side of the road were filled to the brim with rushing water.
In that 20 minutes we had more rain than my entire four month Africa trip! If I had the choice between torrential rain and blazing sun, I’ll take the rain please!
Yesterday I pushed hard and finished the day completely spent and exhausted…today I had a different plan…make it to lunch and see how I feel.
Thankfully the morning started out overcast. It made the few monster hills (12% grade!) before lunch manageable. Still, I was feeling very low energy and struggling. I don’t usually have issues getting to lunch, but yesterday’s exertion definitely took its toll on me.
About 10km before lunch that nasty ball of fire in the sky reared its ugly scorching head and sent its radiation at me! I was done!
I rolled into lunch and promptly told the TDA staff to hold a seat for me on the lunch truck. I’d chow down, then hitch a ride to the hotel the easy air conditioned way! There was still about 45km to go and I just didn’t feel I had it in me.
After a very relaxing, no pressure to keep going, lunch I started to feel a bit more energized. My pride got the better of me and I decided to give the afternoon ride a shot. The forecast was calling for clouds to roll in and I could see them building on the horizon.
Off I set!
Two hills and 17km later, the clouds never appeared and my core temperature was getting high again. At the foot of the next hill I decided, it’s not worth killing myself and pulled over to wait for the lunch truck to pass and pick me up.
I’m only on day 3 of this trip and there is no sense in killing myself right off the start. I need to stay health to enjoy it. No shame in taking the van! Plus…tomorrow is 140km!
So here’s the thing about Vietnam…it’s hot! It’s not Africa hot, but good god…the humidity! When the sun is out mid-day it feels like riding in a sauna. The last 20km to the hotel took me 3 hours (normally 30km would take me just over an hour)! My problem, I can’t cool down. And when you can’t cool down heat stroke is a real issue. I sat for over an hour under some banana trees trying to drop my body temp and praying for the sun to go behind a cloud. It did not.
I finished the ride, but just barely, and I’m completely exhausted. If it’s like this tomorrow…
I’m so out of shape! It’s sad how flabby I’ve got over the last few years, and I’m really feeling it on the bike. I knew coming into this that I was ill prepared, but today really showed that. No training, no exercise, new bike. Recipes for disaster. And while it wasn’t a complete disaster it was a very hard struggle.
Getting out of Hanoi was a learning curve. Cycling in the ebb and flow of the chaotic traffic was interesting to say the least. We were told to behave like a guppy in a huge school of fish, and that, for the most part, worked. The other rule, if they are bigger than you…they have the right of way. Don’t mess with the dump trucks. They won’t stop.
Getting to lunch (66km in) wasn’t too hard, but the temperature was climbing. The day started at 26 C and was now at its peak of 32 C. The air heavy with moisture and barely a cloud in the sky. The suns rays beating down us. After lunch I struggled to stay cool and toyed with overheating on three separate occasions. I had to pull over and sit beneath several trees to ward off the heat stroke. Only the hottest day in Sudan rivaled the scorcher it was today.
Still, I learned how to manage heat in Africa. Take my time, lots and lots of water and shade breaks. The last 20 km of our 117km day dragged on forever but slow and steady won the day. After a quick blissfully cold shower I collapsed on the bed… I’m so out of shape!
The time difference between Hanoi and Toronto is 11 hours. Basically the worst jet lag possible. After arriving about 1am local time, I grabbed a few hours of sleep before I had to attend the mandatory riders meeting. There, we did a meet and greet with the staff and our fellow riders. A quick head count revealed 20 riders and 6 staff. The breakdown: 12 men and 8 women. As was the case in Africa, a diverse group we are not! Demographic = old white retirees. The age group isn’t surprising… you basically need to be retired to take 2 months of vacation (or be a teacher). Unlike the Africa group, I may be the youngest one here at 56!
After the meeting it was time to build my bike and prep all my riding gear.
Problem #1:
My helmet is missing! We are not allowed to ride without one. It was definitely packed in my bike box in Toronto! Annie commented on how ratty it looked. After wracking my brain, I can only surmise that it never made it back in the bike box after we took everything out for security to screen (the box was still sealed when I opened it in the bike assembly area, so I didn’t absentmindedly pull it out in my room or somewhere else). Some security screener in Toronto is the lucky recipient of a ratty, dust encrusted, 8 year old, sun cracked and faded helmet that rode from Cairo to Cape Town! Perhaps this was a good thing!
Anyway, Baba, one of the assistant tour leaders, found me a bike shop nearby and I wandered over and found a suitable replacement. Crisis averted!
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The rest of the day has gone to plan. No damage to my bike in transit and the reassembly went smoothly. I’m all set for our first days ride…tomorrow!
Good grief… it’s really happening.
So it’s been SEVEN years since I did my Cairo to Cape Town bike trip across Africa and here I go again! I’m back with the wonderful folks at TDA Global Cycling and I’m very much looking forward to the next two months!
“TWO MONTHS” You say!
“That’s crazy!”
No it’s not. Africa was four!
As you can see from the map above, this time I’m doing south east Asia. A measly 4800km over the course of 60 days. Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore!
So stay tuned as this trip gets into full swing!
Four months ago I flew to Egypt to embark on a crazy journey that would have me cross an entire continent on my bicycle. Looking back to the beginning of this trip, it’s amazing how green and naive I was. Fuelled by enthusiasm and determination (and later Coca-Cola) I was ready to take on Africa, or at least that’s what I thought. Three days ago I completed that journey and now with the wealth of experience behind me, I understand what most people thought when I told them what I was doing; “That’s amazing! Your $&¥%ing CRAZY”!
Now as I return home, it’s almost fitting that I’m retracing my pedal strokes by flying from Cape Town to Addis Ababa and then from Addis to Toronto (via a refuel stop in Dublin). The flight path home, closely retraces my bicycle journey. The enormity of the 116 day voyage completely undone in eight hours of flight. To me it’s a prime example of how modern technology is robbing us of incredible life experiences. We pay a high price for wanting everything instantly and not relishing the effort it takes to get somewhere or do something. The world would be a better place if we just slowed down a bit. Why hike or ride somewhere when you can drive or fly? Sometimes it’s worth being exposed to the moments without a barrier. Seeing an elephant in the zoo can’t hold a candle to the raw awe inspiring feeling you get when one walks out on the road in front of you. Even sitting in a safari vehicle seeing the animals in their natural habitat paled in comparison.
But I’m getting off track…as I sit here in the plane, literally looking down upon the continent, my journey seems ridiculously ambitious. Thinking about my accomplishment and what it took to complete, I feel both proud and very lucky. I was a tiny grain of sand moving a cross a vast desert. With the help of ten amazing TDA staff members and our entire group of riders I rode Every Frikken Inch (EFI) of the trip. I didn’t get sick, I didn’t have any accidents and I didn’t have any major mechanical issues. Ignorance, naiveté and stubborn determination got me through most of the riding…well that and some pretty spectacular landscapes to ride through. Not really knowing how hard this would be really helped remove any fear there might have been. I can honestly say there was only one time on the tour when my determination wavered, our first scorcher of a day in Sudan. Riding in the 45C+ heat with no shade to be found and my Achilles’ tendons still screaming almost beat me. If a TDA support vehicle had passed me during one of my “down” moments, I might just have stopped riding and got on; but that didn’t happen, and I toughed it out.
Over the next few weeks, I’m going to revisit each country we rode through and do a final summing up of my thoughts and feelings on each one. A little TDA post mortem if you will. So stay tuned. I’m not quite done yet.
The last days ride was not at all what I was expecting. The morning started very cold and very wet, in fact the inside of my tent was the wettest it’s been on the entire trip, and it didn’t even rain. All the moisture was from condensation. My sleeping bag was wet, the clothing I hung out to dry was wet, inside and outside of the tent was wet. Everything had to be packed wet. Perhaps this was the perfect reminder of how easy we’ve had it in terms of weather.
The start of the days ride actually had to be delayed about fifteen minutes because of how foggy the roads were. Visibility was very low and made for dangerous cycling (the possibility of being hit by a car was much higher). When we finally did get underway, the fog and the sun made for some very beautiful and ominous views. I tried to get some photos but there was so much moisture in the air the lens on my phone would fog almost instantly. It made for some eerie but blurry pictures.
When the fog finally lifted it revealed a beautiful rolling hills landscape, with green fields and assorted farmlands and pastures. Again, not what I was expecting so close to Cape Town.
I cycled along at a very leisurely pace for a few hours, taking my time and enjoying the last ride of the tour, then I noticed the time. It was already 10:30am and we had been told we needed to be at the lunch spot by noon for the last 17km convoy into the city. I needed to pick up the pace. There was still 25km till lunch and the wind had decided that it was going to try and push me back to Cairo. I crawled along at 16km/hr for good half hour struggling with every pedal stroke. As if the wind wasn’t enough, a huge wall of fog loomed up in front of me. Why it was there and where it came from, no one knows, but it was enveloping the ancient lost city of Atlantis. Seriously, I found Atlantis. Maybe if historians just followed the road signs they would have found it faster. As it turns out, Atlantis is a suburb of Cape Town, and not the mythical magical city as told in legends; It’s really sketchy (picture District 9 and Slumdog Millionaire). At about ten kilometres from lunch a sharp right turn gave us a brief reprieve from the debilitating wind and I managed to make up some ground. Then all of a sudden, civilization appeared; a traffic light! I’ve seen maybe three of them (working ones) since Cairo. That’s when it all finally sank in for me…the tour was just about over (cue the sappy melodramatic music).
To my surprise I was the first rider into lunch. Clemont, our fastest rider on the tour, decided to voluntarily give up his EFI status and took the truck to lunch as a personal statement that he was just here to enjoy the ride and that it didn’t mean anything to him (much respect!). I thought with all my dawdling and picture taking on route that I’d be in the middle of the pack, but it turned out everyone else dawdled more. At lunch there was a wonderful spread of snacks and fake champagne, a little pre celebration, celibration. We ended up starting the last convoy about an hour later than planned. The dawdling was contagious and a bunch of riders had to be picked up or pushed hard to get them into lunch ASAP.
Once into the convoy, the 17km went very quickly. Unlike previous convoys where we crawled along in heavy traffic and lung-choking exhaust, this one was smooth, clean and very upbeat. We chatted amongst our selves as our police escort blocked traffic and chaperoned us to the finish line. Then with mixed emotions we made the final turn into the Lagoon Beach Hotel. The sidewalk was lined by friends, relatives and loved ones of many of the riders. It was a very emotional moment for all. Tears and smiles intermingled as we all fought with conflicting emotions. We were finished. All that remained was the distribution of medals and the celebratory dinner.
We all stayed up late into the evening (WAY past out 8:30pm bed times) chatting and reminiscing about our journey. Africa has been completed, top to bottom, east to west. Saying goodbye, then lingering, then saying goodbye again. A tear, a hug, turn your back and walk away.
Our final sunset over Table Mountain here in Cape Town. The journey is complete. I’ve made it. We’ve made it. This ragtag bunch of cyclists have made it across an entire continent. It’s been a long day filled with highs and lows that I need to digest for a bit before making my full post on the last day of the trip. For now, I just wanted to drop a quick note letting everyone know I’ve made it successfully and safely to Cape Town. After a good nights sleep and some thought, I’ll post more details of our last ride.
Today has conspired to remind me of home. Perhaps is a fluke, perhaps it’s because tomorrow is our last day and home is on the horizon. The day started with a nice sandy ride past a small fishing community that reminded me of the east coast of Canada, a place called Glace Bay in Nova Scotia. Then a few minutes later as I cycled alongside the Atlantic, the smell of saltwater and seaweed reminded me of visiting my Aunt as a kid out in West Vancouver, BC. Later, I passed a road sign that said Aurora was up ahead… what the hell!? No word of a lie, I grew up in a town called Aurora. So here I am ten thousand miles from home and its memories are all around me.
Our last full day of riding was a bit different today. After spending the morning in my usual solo mode, we were forced to group up into larger ten person+ groups so we could be police escorted along the highway (R27). It was a bit silly since the section of “highway” we were riding was just a two lane road, no different from any other road we’ve been riding for the last four months. It’s only difference being it had an “R” designation and I guess the rules say “when a group of cyclists are on a R series road they must be accompanied by a police escort. The funny thing is the road had a double wide shoulder that made for extremely safe riding, but I guess some bureaucrat somewhere felt the urge to fill out a form. Who am I to deny him/her the pleasure of approving form 307-F7-994C and duplicating it in triplicate. Sometimes you just have to give of yourself.
Tomorrow is our last day of the tour. We are now less than 100km from Cape Town! Everyone is excited and sad that the journey is at its end. Tonight before dinner we had nice little “Jersey” ceremony where all the riders received their “Cairo to Cape Town” cycling jersey. The TDA staff personalized each one with and “award” tailored to the cyclist receiving the shirt. For me, I won the “Coca-Cola” award (I definitely consumed the most Coke on the tour). The awards were all either humorous, like “the slowest rider” award for one rider who beat everyone to camp almost every day, or heartfelt like “the Wonder Woman” award for a woman who started the tour very green but pushed hard and became a much stronger cyclist by the end. It was a really nice way to end the evening. Now all that remains is one more night in the tent and 93km of road, then the finish line awaits!
