Hey, Mzungu!

“The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say”

-J.R.R. Tolkien

There was not a day that went by that the road didn’t feel endless. It consumed me when I woke up and spat me out when I went to bed. The road changed me, it broke and shaped me to who I am. You wake with the smell of slowly melting tires and tar. You go to bed to the sound of cooling metal and agitated dogs. My daily routine dictated my life for long enough to fully immerse myself into the presence moment. I had no distractions and no idea what the next bend will bring.

For eight months I chose to follow the path of self-discovery and exploration. It was not my first solo adventure, and would not be my last. But by far the hardest, one I had to fight for each day; one that broke me and built me back up into a different shape. It was also not always hard for there were endless amounts of moments of bliss and exploration.

I crossed 9 Southern African countries on bicycle and kayak. I cycled more than 8500km and kayaked 600km across Lake Malawi. My journey took me from the Cape Town, South Africa to the literal gates of Mount Kenya.

It all started on the 21st of February in Cape Point in the shadow of Table Mountain. I stood there bright eyed looking at the mountain wondering why in the name am I committing to such an extensive adventure. Full knowing that finishing it would be extremely hard to do. I was not scared but I definitely pitied myself. I knew what I was letting myself in for. The days would be hot and long, the road rough and unknown. It was a dangerous endeavour which I committed to and I

knew that, I could never be sure if I would make it back in one piece. There was a long list of things that could have been able to kill me, luckily for me my luck held strong. Not with a long list of setbacks though!

On that first day I was mugged at knife point. Looking at that young man who threatened my life was such a big setback for my mental commitment back then. It took a long while to get back on track mentally. But the real fear stayed with me though the whole trip. Fear was a real battle on this trip, this has all to do with my lack of trust I have for strangers. I had a couple of really dangerous moments where my life felt feeble and fragile, after that I could never feel completely safe.

I cycled north across the Karoo where I have many fond memories of the fair folk that live there. I was helped, fed and bedded all the way across the barren landscape. My bicycle led me into Lesotho where I headed high up into the Maloti Mountains. No easy day of cycling in that place! From in Lesotho I attempted to hike the Drakensberg Grand Traverse. Its 230km of lonely hills, taking the struggler -me- across vast open spaces next to the massive escarpment of Lesotho and South Africa.

I started at Afri Ski a tiny bit north of the true start of the traverse. The first 2 and a half days were nothing special, I only had some problems with the local Basotho who followed me and in one instance gave me a pretty frightening chase. The weather was miserable with loads of cloud cover and mist. On the third day I buckled, and as a result I hurt my left knee. Walking was impossible and I camped on the same ridge. Next day I had to get of the mountain safely. After a lot of pain pills and two-thousand-meter plus descent I reached safety on the South African Side near Bergville.

After seeing a Physio and having a short bit of a holiday I got back into Lesotho where I climbed on my bicycle and headed off. I could not do another attempt on the Traverse for my knee was still pretty damaged. Luckily they said a bit of cycling could do my knee some good… So I cycled to Swaziland (I am not the perfect patient I will admit.)

It was some beautiful days cycling to get to Swaziland, but I also had my first falls on these rugged gravel roads. Luckily I knew I was not alone for I was 5 years behind another cyclist which by local logic means I am deeply connected with him.

Swaziland should be on any one’s list to visit, it's a bit of a hassle free Africa. Beautiful people, wonderful countryside and best of all easy to explore and developed enough to enjoy it in some kind of comfort. I was happy enough to stay at Legends Backpackers on the outskirts of the Capital doing day missions into the countryside. I kept myself busy with rafting, hiking, horse riding and some cycling with the Swazi Trail team.

After all that plus a week of getting some funky sickness I was back in the saddle paddling into Mozambique. Mozambique was one hell of a culture shock. Maybe it was the Portuguese or the school children in nun(ish) suites. But I could not find out why. In retrospect Mozambique was an awesome place to visit.

Yes, while cycling from Maputo north to a war zone was one hell of an epic but was nothing compared to the rest of my travels higher up into modern Africa. The pure poverty in Maputo and elsewhere in Mozambique and the slowly degradation of colonial infrastructure

was one fascinating aspect of Mozambique that will stay with me forever. Tragically in some instances it was nothing compared to what I would experience in the poorest country in the world, which I could not get to because of the war… Malawi!

Getting cornered between war, unpassable road and heading south in Mozambique was not a big problem for the town which I was stuck in was basically paradise. Sandy beaches, cheap local food, European tourists and beer!

Sadly, from there I took buses back south all the way into South Africa. I stayed with my Girlfriend near Kaapsehoop. From where I headed north across the all-time best scenic cycling I have done the whole year, across the Blyde river mountain. Yes, you should go there… On a bike.

Entering Zimbabwe from the notorious Beit bridge was rather uneventful except for the fact that I had to repeatedly give my passport to every living soul between my sodden soul and the small school like gate leading to another world.

Zimbabwe was another country like no other but weirdly it could account for the best cycling I have done. I didn't expect it and I was rather motivated to get to Malawi by that time so I didn’t spend as much time there as I wanted to. Only having a little break in Harare where I stayed and drank wine with the most amazing people.

Cycling north into Zambia took me across some fantastic nature reserves where it was common to be stopped by Police who were shocked by your presence, asking if I carried any weapons with me. They were rather insistent that I take weapons with me because of the large population of lions in the area. Even the most corrupt cops have a conscience I guess!

Zambia was rather uneventful I guess. Hills, poverty, funny remarks, bland local pap, and more wind was the name of the game. Luckily for me I picked up another Cyclist who relentlessly cycled right in front of me for a week or so, spending time sleeping in valleys and a police station.

It all turned when the Zambian Kwacha turned into the Malawian Kwacha. Or not exactly, it just changed. Malawi would be a place of spectacular spots and at the same time it would madden me into depression. Poverty, lack of government, defective police force etc. would create a place where the smiles of the locals and their words and deeds clash so much that I would hit rock bottom pretty hard. (Added some of the most amazing natural spots I have been to, have been in Malawi.) I spent more than two months in Malawi and it’s hard to fit everything in but the main event was kayaking across Lake Malawi.

Kayaking has never been my speciality or really a sport I even dabbled in… But here I was on Lake Malawi Kayaking across the thing! It has always been a massive lifelong dream to kayak on of the great lakes of Africa, nonetheless it was one hell of an adventure. After life threatening hippos, scary storms, dehydration, sunstroke, 35 days, 600km and one sore back, I succeeded in paddling alone across Lake Malawi. Nothing I have done so far has been as physically and mentally hard to accomplish. A special thanks goes out to Fish Eagle Bay Lodge who helped me with this expedition. Without their help I would not have gotten anywhere.

I arrived in Tanzania early September. By then it had taken me months to get there. I was excited

to get back on the bike after getting so wet on Lake Malawi. Tanzania spoiled me with open spaces and high quality food. All in all it was very enjoyable cycling and the locals were a total joy to meet. Most of the time…

I stopped at Mount Meru where I planned my future route: I wanted to climb Mount Meru or a picturesque volcano about 200km away. This didn’t work out because the permit cost in Tanzania reaches into the thousands when you want to get close to any mountain or volcano. After exploring the Meru lower reaches I packed up my gear to get myself into Kenya.

My Kenyan adventure definitely starts at the border or the lack of it guess. I do not believe it can be called a border when you are able to cycle into Kenya without getting stopped or blocked by anything remotely related to an official obstacle. After a while of searching I got my passport stamped. Very disappointedly, I lost all my money through the local bank. I stayed close to the border town to try and get my money back from cyber space as fast as I possibly could. I was unsuccessful though and my moola took another 3 weeks to find its way back to me. Giving up I cycled to Nairobi. If I needed to describe Nairobi I would say; Crazy… But wow, I liked it a lot.

I spent some time in Nairobi where I could say was the end of my 8 month mission into Africa. The route I planned a year and a half earlier was not completed. For me though I did not mind. I saw Africa in all it dangerous beauty. I learned some funky cultures and met characters that I would never forget. It is always fun to finish but it this case I was happy to get back to civilisation in one piece! I had some frightening close calls during my 2016 year; in retrospect my mugging on day one could be seen as a sign for the months to follow.

All I can say now is do not wait for your life to begin, take charge and explore but never be scared to fail. Failure is just another path to walk upon.

A BIG thanks to everyone who helped me in some small way, supported me financially or emotionally, found me a bed to rest upon and who gave me strength to continue. Thanks to the sponsors: Rietmark, Mountain Club of South Africa, Fish Eagle Bay lodge and Swazi Trails. Without organisations/people like you dreams cannot come alive. Lastly and most importantly, thanks to my family, friends and girlfriend who made everything possible and survivable over the last couple of years and adventures, I could not have done anything without your relentless support!