Notes from the end - Job Done!

200 days

17 countries

20 flat tyres

over 3,500,000 pedal rotations

38 stitches

6 tyres

3 rear wheels

34 other components changed

over 2,000,000 calories burnt

over 11,000 Pounds rasied for Malaria Consortium and counting

14,231km

JOB DONE!

After the long road ro Durban the last 1639 kilometres seemed like a breeze. I booked a flight on such a date that the last 3 weeks could be taken at a slightly slower pace and Greg and I could enjoy ourselves, that was the idea anyway. The ride to East London was anything but relaxing, though we were averaging just over a hundred kilometres a day the hills in the Transkei region were seemingly unending as we wound to and from the sea up into the mountains and back down again. We were warned time and again before getting there that though beautiful the area was dangerous. We were told to expect bad roads, potholes (some apparantly that you could fit a giraffe in), livestock and to be the only white people for miles around. Though this might be a worry for a South African from Johannesburg it seemed to me that this area was exactly like the rest of Africa and it was nice to go back to proper rural Africa for a few days. We got stuck just east of East London in a beautiful spot called Chintsa. We camped at a lodge overlooking the scenic bay and lagoon and what was supposed to be a two night stop quickly turned into a 5 nighter.

After East London was a fairly miserable, wet and windy few days to Port Elizabeth where we stayed with former South African olympic pole vaulter Okert Brits and his family, it was great fun to stay with a local celebrity, Okert had just been on the South African series of survivor a popular TV show and everyone we spoke to seemed to know him. From there we wound along the garden route towards Cape Town. Parts of this beautiful area between the jagged mountains and the Indian Ocean looked very similar to Switzerland in my eyes, a truely picturesque part of the world, it definitely wont be my last visit. Passing Storms River we came to the worlds highest bridge based bunji jump of 216 metres. It was my second visit so I was obliged to jump backwards which was horrible, to jump forwards is more natural, to let yourself fall backwards off a bridge is completely against even the most basic instincts! Luckily saying goodbye to the bridge was the hardest part and after that I was just a man thrilled to be in mid air, few things can top it for exhillaration.

Excitement mounted over our last few days into Cape Town untill after two days of big hills and mountain passes that left our legs begging for a day of rest we found ourselves in Somerset West a mere 80 kilometres from the Cape of Good Hope, my final destination. After 2 weeks of headwinds we thoughts the wind would be to our side as we arced toward the cape but of course not. The wind battered us like never before and what was supposed to be a 3 hour glory ride turned into a 5 hour battle against the wind, Africa wasnt going to let us off easily.

As we rounded the final headland and saw the cape the wind abated and we cruised down next to the sign marking the most south westerly point of the African continent. I had an exhillirating feeling not unlike the aftermath of the bunji and was grining like and idiot for hours afterwards. We decided against cycling back up the hill to lunch and caught a lift with some tourists and had an incredible lunch overlooking the cape bay, we headed into town to our accomodation for the night, had some dinner and set out into the night to celebrate furthur.

Though my head is ringing this morning and I can tell that something epic has come to an end it will take a few days to sink in, I feel deeply confused about the fact that I wont have to repack my life back onto the bike and head off tomorrow. Im thoroughly looking forward to getting back home and enjoying the english summer.
Thank you to all who have donated, all that have sent messages and encouraged and all who have followed, even in the darkest moments I knew that there were those who cared and it got me through.

I dont know whats next and if there will be a next in terms of mad adventure but if there is you'll be sure to hear about it.

Adam

Notes from months 5 and 6 - Getting closer

Since my last update the outlook is immeasurably brighter. I caught my ferry from Kigoma, Tanzania to Mpulungu, Zambia. The ferry was a grand old vessel that has been plying the waters of Lake Tanganyika for nearly a century and my friends Jack, Ryan and I whiled away two days playing cards, reading and watching the mountains and tiny fishing villages of Congo slip by to the west. My face was swollen and eating wasn’t what you’d call easy but life was by no means a trial, in fact quite the opposite as the Tanganyika ferry turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip.

The next step was to have my stitches removed. I visited two northern Zambian hospitals neither of which were any help, shockingly neither had any sterile scissors or equipment (such is Africa). The doctor at the second when asked how he would remove them produced a double sided razor blade; I told him very quickly that there would be no way I would allow him to try removing stitches in my mouth with that! It seemed there was only one option left open to me; I would have to remove as many stitches as I could and look out for better hospitals along the way. So with a bottle of disinfectant, my trusty leatherman multitool and a mirror, I set to work. I managed to get all the ones on the outside and a couple on my lip but removing the stitches in my mouth using a multitool and a mirror proved too much of a challenge. I was looking forward to getting cycling again but was warned by a few locals that the road to Malawi, though cyclable was crawling with bandits. There followed two days and 350km of flatbed truck rides, the drivers driving as fast as possible over very bumpy road made for a very unpleasant journey, when I arrived at the Malawian border I looked a very sorry sight, I was exhausted, my face and scars covered in a thick layer of dust, my back and abdomen aching like never before from the savage bumps, I just wanted to get on the bike!

Malawi is a joy in so many ways, the people are uncommonly friendly, not friendly in the normal African way where you are sure that the conversation will eventually lead to a plea for money or to buy something from them, just pleased to meet you. Often when I would stop at the side of the road a passerby would ask ‘are you ok sir?’ once I had replied yes they would simply add ‘very good, may Jesus bless you’ and be on their way, very refreshing. After 90km of dirt road I arrived at the main road (the M1) and the next morning set off south again. The road was simply divine, winding along the lakeshore through tiny fishing villages and over small hills offering breathtaking views across the lake to the mountains of Tanzania. As evening approached on my second evening in Malawi I was still winding my way along the lakeshore when I came across a wall, a colossal mountain face rose up from the lake and shot straight up a sheer side into the sky blocking my path, ‘how on earth do I get up that?’ I thought. What followed the next morning was the trips second most arduous climb, a tour de France worthy 12.5 kilometres of steep tarmac winding up into the big blue sky, I finished with over 170km and nearly 10 hours of riding that day but it was still one of my best days on a bike.



After the joyous ride down the lake I headed inland to Lilongwe the capital and from there took the great east road from there through the bush to Zambias capital, Lusaka. It was in the last days ride into Lusaka over large climbs that the bike finally gave out. Whether due to the crash or simply extreme wear the bottom bracket (the bearings through which the pedals rotate) gave out and the bike would go no further. I spent a day running around Lusaka trying to find a suitable replacement but it is a very specific part and there aren’t many modern bikes in Zambia. In the end I had to catch a truck down to Victoria Falls where I was to meet my friend Greg a few days later. He was coming out to join me for the last 6 weeks of the trip and could bring me the parts I needed.



From Vic falls we headed south into Botswana and were amazed by how baren it was. In the first 3 days in Zambia we met few cars and lots of animals including a few giraffe and elephant right next to the road. Botswana was a real challenge as even in winter the days are very hot and the roads are long straight and featureless, without the time on the bike I have had this year Greg struggled for the first week but took the pain and kept up well even in driving head winds.



From middle Botswana we headed into South Africa the final country of my tour. The north east seems to have a lot of parallels with the deep south of the United States. The terrain and being flat, barren and sparsely vegetated with long straight featureless roads the white people being mostly very religious, quite racist, quite ignorant, very overweight and possibly even inbred. Thanks to that we tried our best to get out of there and made swift progress despite strong headwinds to Johannesburg where my aunt and cousin live. It was nice to be inside and not camping as night time temperatures were pushing below zero. We stayed for a few days and went to see a game at the enormous soccer city stadium. We saw the Germans on form and knew that England would have to be on top form to topple them in the pool of 16.



On the ride into Joburg my rear wheel started to play well off true, I took it to a cycle shop to be straightened and whilst attempting the job they discovered a collosal crack that spanned around a quarter of the way round the inside of the rim. My plan was to bodge it and see if I could get it fixed in Durban but after only a day after we set off the wheel was much worse. I attempted to get it welded in an engineering shop but the extreme heat on the delicate rim caused it to buckle violently and was rendered unrecoverable. I managed to get hold of a bike shop nearby who had a replacement available and we caught a lift there, it was my birthday but all I wanted was for my bike to be rideable again. They did a magnificent job in a short time and fixed a lot of other nagging problems, they even put us up for the night and we hit the road strong the next day. The following 370km down to Durban took us 2 days and over some incredible scenery that reminded me strongly of Scotland and just as I had that thought the heavens opened and I experienced my first rain for a few months, the final run into Durban took me through the valley of 1000 hills and down some incredible descents until I saw the Indian ocean for the first time since Kenya in March.



After a delightful 2 day stay in Unhlanga Rocks with my cousin James we are now heading down the South Coast hoping to make the Nelson Mandela bay big screen to watch the world cup final a week on Sunday.



With it now a measurable distance to Cape Town (1639km) I can now say that I plan to be there around the 20th July all being well. I can also announce that I am currently standing only £151.57 away from my £10,000 fundriasing target with a few 'by the mile' donations yet to come in, very exciting.

My next update should be in around 3 weeks, stay tuned.


Distance cycled to date - 12,653km
Money raised for Malaria Consortium - £9,848.43