Tuesday, May 10, 2005 - 02:08 PM

David Houghton, our fearless Canadian, is hanging on to his bike for dear life...

Sunday, May 01, 2005
Countdown

In two weeks, we will ride into Cape Town and end our adventure. My butt is happy about this, but my brain resists.

Of the ten countries that we've travelled through, those that were the least industrialized were the most exotic and therefore the most interesting. As we've cycled through Zambia, Botswana and Namibia, we've slowly been reintroduced to all those things we gladly left behind months ago. Like cel phones that ring La Marseillaise and BMWs blasting Kid Rock.

The funny thing is, I already miss all those subsistence farmers, standing at the side of the road, smiling and waving in their torn clothes. I already miss seeing rusted Chinese bicycles laden with firewood and plastic jugs of water. I already miss watching steam rise from the thatched roofs of village huts in the early morning light.

But I do like toilets that flush. And double espressos. Cape Town here I come!


Windhoek, Namibia

This week we had what we hope is the longest ride of the entire tour: 208 kilometres from Ghanzi to Buitepos. It also turned out to be the most boring ride of the entire tour.

Some riders left at 5 AM, concerned about the time it would take to cover the distance. I left at a less ungodly hour and rode with a group of eight riders through Tsootsha and into the Hanahia Valley. The landscape was unendingly flat, and offered up trees and grass and trees and grass. The only relief was from dead Lilac-breasted rollers, the most beautiful roadkill in the world. We turned right onto the Trans-Kalahari Highway and the tailwind appeared right behind us, pushing us out of the Kalahari, out of Botswana and into Namibia. As 200-kilometre days go, it was an easy one.

Yesterday, we crossed the 10,000-kilometre mark of our trip. After celebrating and taking a few pictures, we rode on another 110 kilometres to Witvlei. There we spent the night at a former ostrich farm, across the road from a very popular and very loud late-night club.

Today, bleary-eyed, we rode a century (100 miles, 161 kilometres to you metric-heads) to the aptly named Windy Corner, Windhoek. We've arrived on a Sunday and tomorrow, our rest day, is a national holiday. All the stores are closed. Which means there's nothing to do but wash our clothes and clean our bikes.

Damn.



Kiwis

It’s challenging for sectional riders, who ride only a part of the Tour d’Afrique route, to be dropped into the middle of our group. We’ve been living together nearly four months, and have developed many, shall we say, idiosyncrasies along the way. But three Kiwis, who left us today in Windhoek, did it effortlessly. Brian and Anene, on their zebra-striped DaVinci tandem, and Russell, on his black Giant, joined us from Wellington and managed to fit in comfortably right from their arrival.

Maybe it’s because they’re doctors, and we have a horde of doctors on the tour; maybe it’s just the easygoing nature of New Zealanders. But everyone seemed to enjoy their company. They were unapologetic birders and I won’t soon forget the Blacksmith Plovers, Slatey Egrets and White-fronted bee-eaters we discovered together in the wilds of Chobe National Park. Happy trails, guys.



Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Conundrum

Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about smoking. But you know the most puzzling thing about this trip? How many riders smoke. There's a coterie of hard-core smokers, who light up in the morning, ride for a few hours and light up again as soon as they reach camp. They smoke with their dinner and after their dinner. I don't understand it in the least. The only time a smoker has asked if I mind their toxic fumes, I was already eating and he was already smoking. So it was rather a pointless question.

Don't let anyone tell you cyclists are a bunch of health freaks. Freaks, maybe, healthy, no.



Monday, April 25, 2005
The Elephant Highway

We find ourselves in Maun, Botswana, after spending the last few days crossing the Elephant Highway. I spent my last rest day in Chobe National Park; although Chobe can sustain 50,000 elephants, the population has swelled to 182,000. There are elephants absolutely everywhere. Bathing, fighting, eating, emerging unexpectedly from the trees. Chobe is also host to herds of impala and kudu, hippos and crocodiles, and dozens of species of birds. The animals wander down to the Chobe River, then wander back past the Land Cruisers and into the trees.

We've spent the last few days dodging huge piles of elephant dung on the road. A couple of days ago, six of us were riding together when we spotted an elephant beside the road. We stopped and drew closer to get a better look at him; a huge three-year-old male with long white tusks. Suddenly, he trumpeted, flapped his ears and took a few quick steps toward us. You've never seen cyclists sprint until you've seen them sprint away from an angry elephant.