All went according to plan though not without a final twist (of course) – Capt H, driving the Cruiser, was unaware of the (recent acquired) radiator leak and that it needed 5L water each morning! To cut a long story short – the 3 vehicles which had all set off at least an hour apart, all converged on Kapiri Mposhi at the same time, pure comedy meeting up there but sorry we missed a photo of all the antics to cool the Cruiser, Mike with hose pipe etc was part of the sight to behold…

We parted company with Charlie again, thankfully dropped the Cruiser safely in Kabwe, and proceeded to Lusaka, mercifully arriving at the Guest House just before dark and 2 mins after Daniel from his flights up from Cape Town. He had had his own adventure with a messed up flight and a ¾ hr interval between one flight and the next – would he and his baggage make it? Highly unlikely but, with much prayer being offered across the globe, he was there to welcome us! Amazingly we had the whole Guesthouse to ourselves and ordered in pizza and chips and had a real celebration, everyone chipping in with photos and exciting stories of the Rift Valley Drifters trip.

Sad parting with the terrific Toyn family the next day but great to bring Dan back for the next stage of his convalescence. Arriving back to Chengelo on Sat, 5th Sept marked the final day of the trip, a mere 7,500 kms.

a. getting arrangements made for Chas and bike to be met out on main road with suitable vehicle and labour for off-loading bike -time uncertain – kind neighbour, Russell Wyatt provided both.
b. getting another vehicle and driver ready and Chas turned around and off to Copperbelt to see a doctor with his broken collarbone and on to Mauritania 2 days later for an important job
c. getting us all turned around and vehicles emptied, cleaned and road-worthy for setting off again, Cruiser to Kabwe for repairs after trip, and bus to Lusaka with Toyn family plus katundu to catch flight early Saturday am

18.45, Bus and crew (Toyns and Mary) got in safely, just as it was getting dark, last bit a good journey as no potholes, yay, and not as many kms as expected! We unpacked, showered (hot water :) ) and awaited the arrival of the Cruiser with Rich and Sarah, and Capt H riding appropriately the last stretch on his trusty BMW. What a relief to welcome them at 21.30 and we all shared a wonderful celebration meal, courtesy of our Chengelo friends, Charles and Anne Alford.

How amazing to arrive back right on the day planned after so many adventures on the way and in particular, challenges in this final couple of days! True enough we were short of two team members – Dan and Charlie, but we rejoiced to hear Chas and bike were travelling overnight from the border in a huge truck, Chas stretched out in the driver’s bed and assuring us he was OK, and Dan due in to Lusaka the next day.

Unfortunately things started to go a little pear shaped over the last 2 days of the journey (“surely not” I hear Mathew and Sam chorus). Mum, Mike, Perry, Jay and I are currently in the fortunate position of being at safely back at home, while the rest of the party is still out on various parts of the great north road.

We left the Mikumi game park yesterday morning, aware that fuel was an issue for the Honda (which can only go 200km at most before needing more), but as Charlie merrily waved us on as he pulled into a petrol station we continued on our way with the words, “we’ll rendezvous in Iringa” (170km up the road) ‘ringing’ in our ears. We were feeling time pressured – the next 2 days were going to be approx 650km each, including a border crossing and we had to get to Lusaka for early Saturday morning, to catch our flight to UK.

Charlie never caught us up, and was not answering his phone; we were in such a dilemma about what to do - feeling the need to press onwards as fast as poss, while wondering how far back he was. The road was terrible with endless one-way road works and we were making slow progress as it was.

We finally heard that he had been stranded by the roadside for 6 hours with no fuel and no phone signal, before being rescued by a passer-by. He managed to get to Iringa by nightfall but by this stage had no money left and was several hours behind us.

We meantime did not get to the border before it closed at 6pm, and had the prospect of a night in Tunduma (the border town between Tanzania and Zambia) to contend with. We were directed to the shiny new ‘Silverstone Hotel’ and spent a night in relative comfort – although no surprise that our sleep was disturbed by our proximity to the mosque (we may all have been subconsciously converted to the Muslim faith by now) and a dance hall– the combination of which meant that there was only silence for 1½ hours.

Anyway got through the last border safely this morning and were off. Happy to be back in Zambia but wondering if we had made the right decision about Charlie. He had ingeniously come up with a way for us to fund him – we bought some mobile phone talktime – texted him the top up codes and he sold them on for cash. All seemed to be well, he was following on – we left his documents and more cash en route for him to collect.

Our journey continued reasonably – a puncture for the cruiser to contend with and a lost-and-found motorbike key - until we got further news that Charlie had had an accident and totalled his motorbike (and possibly his collarbone) 2 hours on the other side of the border (still in Tanzania). More enormous dilemmas about what to do – should we try and fit as much as possible of the cruiser’s load into the bus to return to Chengelo and then send cruiser back for him or what? We managed to communicate with Charlie who assured us he would be OK, and we should continue. Very reluctantly did so.

Cruiser and motorbike are still out on the road, as they made a detour to the hospital where Daniel’s crashed bike had been left at the beginning of the trip, and we have since heard that Charlie is across the border into Zambia and will look for a lift here in the morning. Sadly we may not see him before we need to leave for Lusaka to catch our flight. Meanwhile Dan is flying up to Zambia tomorrow to convalesce further before he is allowed to fly long haul back to UK. Look forward to catching up with him.

On a lighter note, the scenery has continued to amaze us on the journey. Yesterday we dropped 1000m into the Ruaha valley - absolutely beautiful. Outstanding were the forests of baobab trees of all shapes and sizes, extending right up the river valley sides. It took a full hour to descend and then similar to climb back out again. We also passed through eucalyptus and pine forests and on return to Zambia enjoyed the more familiar sight of miombo woodland interspersed with picturesque dambos, and dramatic bush fires…

More to follow…

Today I woke up ON A MATRESS!!! This unnatural occurrence was the consequence of staying with William (Charlie and Harold’s brother). This morning I was on the back of the BMW, with my dad driving. In the morning we got views up of the mountains surrounding; their tops coated with clouds and their bases swamped with sisal plants, which looked like a sea of green. That evening we arrived at our campsite to find a snake house and we decided we couldn’t stay there without seeing them so we went and look round. We saw loads, Green, Red, Small, Big, Lazy, Active, Cobra, Adder, Mamba, Crocodiles and there food (Rabbits and guinea pigs). Later that night after a rather splendid dinner some of us decided to go for a night drive in the local wildlife reserve. In the reserve we saw Zebra, Buck, Elephants, Buffalo and Bush Baby. When we got back I promptly crashed out in my tent.

P.S. enjoyed hearing about the safe arrival of Mathew William…….(William’s new grandson in Cape Town)

P.P.S. had a great night out in Moshi at the Salzburger Café, described well in the Lonely Planet as “The Alps meet Africa at this place, where the waitresses sport faux leopard-skin vests and with Austrian bar décor on the walls” – thanks William for a real treat.

Driving the bus today, not too long a journey but a painful border crossing to start us off. The Tanzanians really know how to make you feel welcome as they took another hour of our time to complete the 2 forms needed per person and process them. Our visas were very high tech with a photo taken by a web cam pointed through the glass window, a hilarious set of pictures followed, the fringe side of Jay’s head was missed off, Mum’s chin and hair were missing, Perry’s was so close up you could see every pore etc. We were told the we were not allowed to go to any game parks or see any animals with our transit visa, so we must make sure that we all close our eyes tightly when we drive on main road through Mikumi GP, that is except Sarah who somehow manged to be given a tourist visa for 90 days in her passport, despite only paying for a transit one. They are clearly still getting to grips with their new technology.

A warning sign as we left the border ‘Please beware the road to Arusha is very bad – 60mph maximum’ gave us a clue of the journey to follow – a series of stoney diversions, construction sites and speed bumps ensued, with us following the motorbikes and watching in amusement as Rich took an unexpected extra diversion off a very silty part of the road. Mum (who was riding pillion on the BM with dad) ‘left the seat at least 10 times and one time nearly dived right over Dad’s head’. She wished again for a larger BTM & at least 20kgs more weight. I wonder if this was on the same invisible speedbump that I hit at speed.

The scenery was dry and arid punctuated with Masai and dust whirlwinds with Mount Meru in the background before becoming more green around Arusha. It was a relief to see some water flowing in the rivers again after many dry riverbeds.

Didn’t manage to see Mt Kilimanjaro which we had been hoping to do on the drive from Arusha to Moshi – it was covered in cloud. NB the bikers did manage a glimpse.

Managed to hook up with William (Capt H & C’s bro) in downtown Moshi while consuming yet another refreshing ‘tangawezi’ (ginger beer) - these have been quite a feature of the holiday (for Charlie in particular)– and are now enjoying chilling at his lovely home, beds & showers for all J. Missing Eunice as she’s gone to Cape Town for arrival of latest grandchild, so look forward to news tomorrow.

Booked my place on the BMW with Rachel as my pillion and set off from Kembu Cottage through the Rift Valley.

We had said our sad goodbyes to Sam and Matthew and left them to enjoy a day in the nearby game park seeing (as we heard later) rhino, lion and flamingo.

We were scared stiff by the passing and overtaking of the numerous trucks on the road and were mighty relieved to see a sign that forced all vehicles over 10 tons to use an alternative route. This meant we could concentrate on admiring the view as we crossed the valley floor. We caught sight of the soda lake and could see how the surface was dotted with pink from the many flamingoes. There were also sightings of zebra, warthog and impala from the roadside.

We climbed up the escarpment and felt the temperature drop as we rose, by the time we crested the summit at 2700m it was decidedly chilly but the views down the valley floor were superb. I thought that Rachel was having a fit at one point as she began hitting me on the leg, but quickly realised that it was because she had spotted a roadside vendor selling roasted mealies. A quick U turn and we were soon tucking into one each sitting in the sun on a rather English looking patch of grass (complete with grazing sheep). The BMW was the centre of attention and heated debate as we ate our mealies, and we were eagerly asked ‘did it have a propellor’? (we think they meant ‘prop shaft’).

We leapt into action when we saw the cruiser pass and caught it up as we reached the official Rift Valley viewpoint. It was aptly named with long views into the valley bottom with villages and hills stretching into the distance.

After a kilometer of vertical descent we were approaching Nairobi and dealing with the hoardes of cars and lorries with little respect for anything on two wheels. Fun and games as we tried to change money on a Sunday and we had yet another lunch on a random garage forecourt.

Leaving Nairobi was a relief with a slight detour into the entrance of the airport (due to a lack of road signs). We were met by a policeman who greeted us thus: “Ah, but I can tell that you are lost”. He pointed us in the right direction and we were on our way to the right road (which was under contruction). Fortunately we were following Charlie who decided that the unfinished road looked better than the dirt detour and we spent a good few kilometers dodging impromptu blocks, road rollers and workmen before joining the quality tar again.

The outskirts of Nairobi were very dry and dusty but they soon developed into delightful acacia woodlands with long vistas and plains interupted by some steep peaks. It was like the Kenya that I had imagined. Things got even better when we started to see locals wearing traditional Masaai dress by the roadside – complete with cows that had no respect for the rules of the road.

Arrived at the campsite with enough time ahead of the vehicles to start a bar tab and luxuriate in comfy chairs. The site had a volleyball court and it was soon time for our second game that day. We would have played for longer had it not been for the sharp thorns surrounding the court which devastated the soft outer skin of the nice volleyball that Matthew had brought out. (A herd of camels arbitrarily walked past as we played.)

Dinner, beers and games before bed. We were ever so pleased that the large muslim community in the town were celebrating the end of Ramadan as it meant that there was loud wailing being broadcast from a number of mosques until 10pm and again from 05.00am ensured that we didn’t sleep in and had time to repair the volleyball before breakfast for another game before we left.

Today, after almost 4000km together, Mathew and I are leaving the group and flying home from Nairobi. We bid farewell to the remainder of the team beginning the long route back to Zambia and headed for a Game Park nearby to the campsite for the morning before heading to the airport.

We didn't expect to have baboons scramble over the car and through the sunroof onto our heads, nor to see a pride of seven tree-climbing lions (the same that we had been looking for unsuccessfully in Queen Elizabeth National Park earlier in the trip), nor to see a pair of endangered white rhinos in battle, so it was a wonderful 4 hours before beginning our journey homeward.

Taking a moment for reflection as I sit in the airport 24-hour outside bar (unable to enter because check-in does not open for my flight until tomorrow morning), it has been a fantastic trip, tainted only by Dan's accident and the mechanical issues, which I now appreciate are simply a part of African life given the poor road conditions and the lack of availability of replacement parts.

The highlights are many but in an effort to select just a few:
- Visiting 6 countries in 3 weeks, travelling 4000km on the outward leg alone
- Being greeted by the Rwandan immigration officer with "Welcome to the country of hills and smiles"
- Travelling through so many regions that have been so recently impacted by political struggles
- Waking up on a petrol station forecourt floor looking up at a Masai warrior in full dress looking down at me
- Being within two metres of a Silverback gorilla
- Motorbiking through thick silt
- White-water rafting the Nile
- Mountain-biking through a rainforest
- Sleeping right next to a school of hippos twice, with one walking through the camp during the night
- Visiting so many National Parks and seeing so many animals
- Swimming in beautiful freshwater lakes
- Being greeted with warmth from so many gracious people
- Seeing the streams of children running from their houses to the side of the road to wave at the motorbikes passing through. "Mzungu!"

Postscript: As I settle down for the night on the Nairobi Airport entrance hall floor, I have brought out my Thermarest and pillow, much to the envy of other travellers watching me unpack. I finish off my final journal entry before closing the laptop knowing that over 1500 people have been following us online for this expedition. Safe journey and goodnight. Sam, signing off.

A 6am rise had us heading off for the Kenyan border with mostly a day of driving. Having passed the busiest border of the trip at Malamba, we left the clean fast road in Uganda for the bumpy grooved road of Kenya. After dark, we made it to the Kembu campsite and settled in for the evening.

Get in the groove	Asleep at another garage forecourt
Nice sunset	Enriched with Extra Fat and Sugar

Today I woke up already shattered from the rafting the day before and what do I decide to do, go on a 4 hour bike ride. So I struggle to get up and we eat some rabbit food, meet Sandra who was also riding and set off. We meet up with our guide Nash and get in a mini bus which would be our transport to the forest with the best tracks. We arrive and start to sort bikes and helmets out, and surprise, surprise mike gets the best bike. After we were sorted out we started to figure out if they had helmets to actually fit on Nash’s afro. The ride started off along dirt roads which we had a constant chorus of ‘MUZUNGU’ and ‘HOW ARE YOU?’ from the kids that lined the roads, but soon after we turned off into the forest. The forest consisted of leaf covered floor with a never ended line of slimy wet roots which threw you off course every so often. Later on we came upon an opening and we found a waterfall, unfortunately the water was brown and there was a pungent smell which our guide got us to guess what caused it. We then carried on back over the roots and onto a similar path luckily though if was a lot dryer so you didn’t have to watch out for anything slippery and we followed that track all the way back…well until Mike managed to snap his derailleur about 1km and while they tried to fix it the rain kicked in but we welcomed it gladly as seen as we we’re all boiling from the humidity in the forest. Although they didn’t manage to fix Mikes bike he was more that happy to run back with it. When we got back Nash, Richard and Mike chucked the bikes in the back of the truck and we were off back to the campsite.

Ready to ride.

Didn’t think I’d go white rafting again but was booked in by the family, so just had to go for it! Great to share the experience with our grandsons (and their parents) who were fantastic. It was a great day, good crack, very exciting, a bit scary (what go over a waterfall?) but thoroughly enjoyed it all and wonderful to experience the fabled Nile.

When our guide introduced himself as Charlie we immediately knew it would be fun! If he steers our raft like our Charlie rides his motorbike then we could end up anywhere! Of course he did, and howled with delight as we constantly flipped and did flying aerobatics in the red inflatable dingy! Team Action as Charlie named us kept providing the entertainment on the way down especially on the Grade 5 rapids..and were always welcome of a rescue boat. The last rapid topped the day off- even making the irrepressible Charlie quiet! We went slightly off course and hit a hole which liked our company too much and didn’t want to let us go! By the time it spat us out Perry had lost his helmet, Sarah had bruises in all the usual places and Sam’s eyes were wider than ever! I had too much ‘downtime’ for my liking and was relived to see the sunlight… The boat stayed in the hole for another 10 minutes until the guides extracted it. It truly was an action packed day..for us great fun and for the guides it was as the posters say for the Ugandan beer, ‘An honest days work’!

I was clearly the donkey in our boat as everyone else seemed quite happy to let me sit at the front and paddle while they relaxed. Our guide Thambeni was very excited to have three generations in his boat. It transpired that he was from Vic Falls and had seen some of the first Sobek trips going down the river; this had inspired him to become a rafting guide. It further transpired that Harold and Mary had been on one of those first Sobek trips – more laughs all round. We stayed upright all day (boo hoo) but had plenty of fun in the flat sections doing back flips and having water fights with other boats. The river was quite spectacular; absolutely immense in scale with so much power in the rapids. We enjoyed our ‘lunch’ of pineapple and biscuits and felt sorry for the guides who had to eat this every day. However, we were really ready for our barbeque at the end and filled our plates to overflowing. My stomach was complaining to me about how much I had crammed in but I have quietened it down with a couple of beers and am ready for my mountain biking tomorrow. Catch me if you can …

It started off as the usual day; wake up call at 6 followed by quick put down of the tent and then chain of people to load up the cruiser. Then in the car reading and listening to music. After that we got out, crammed some breakfast down our necks and set off for the rafting. We got in the boat and practiced everything we would need for any mishaps on the route (i.e. capsizing, getting used to water temp and paddling.) and then we we’re off. I started off in a boat with the grand parents, parents and brother and was fun going down rapids getting splashed and watching Charlie (the guide) and co falling out whenever the water got a bit choppy so after a while of being with the elder generation I decided to board the other boat so I actually got wet. So I got in and they all climbed to the back of the boat and left me standing in the front just as we were heading towards a biggish rapid and I heard from behind me Sam call ‘HOLD ON AND DON’T LET GO’ so as we hit it I grabbed on the front as the front of the boat lifted up and stood a full 12 feet above the rapids below me before crashing back on itself and throwing everyone else off it, apart from me who, as told, was still clinging on to the front of the boat. Then as the older generation had grown quite fond of my swift paddling stroke, they asked for me back. At the next (and last) grade 5 rapid Charlie thought it would be great fun to try and surf a wave so we paddled hard across the current till we got to the ‘correct’ spot and we surfed it for about 10 seconds until we were swiftly capsized and battered about on the rocks below the surface. But all in all the whole trip was awesome apart from missing a 4 meter waterfall.

Slight fear and trepidation about the rafting after near drowning in the Zambezi but after sailing through our first grade 5 without flipping I began to relax and enjoy being with my parents and my kids – I have done rafting with mum and dad various times over the years since I was Jay’s age so it was good to recreate the experience. Anyway brilliant day – great to be on the river Nile – interesting bird life and views. Before I pass over to get other takes on the rafting I just need to fill in on our journey to get here. [Note: we went with Nile River Explorers who were excellent].

We all set off in convoy from Kampala to Jinja having being assured we would get there for 9am no problem if we left at 7.30am. Mike and I were in cruiser being followed by bus. We passed Charlie on motorbike in layby but as he wasn’t waving, we continued. Mike skillfully overtook one of the many banana lorries only for our hearts to sink as we spied a policeman holding aloft a speed camera and were waved into the side.

[Policeman approaches the Landcruiser's driver-side window. Mike is in the driving seat. Rachel is in the passenger seat.

Policeman: How is Zambia?
Mike: Fine. Thank you.
Policeman: You were speeding.
Mike: I’m sorry.
Policeman: We usually give you a receipt.

[Long pause with Mike and Policeman looking at each other]

Mike: How much is it?
Policeman: 100,000 shillings.

[Another long pause]

[Policeman checks driving license and learns that Mike’s father-in-law, and therefore Rachel's father, lives in Zambia and we ourselves live near Manchester.]

Policeman (with big smile on face): I support Manchester United. You may go on.

Phew, still on track for our 9am start. The bus now in front. Until... the cruiser loses power and grinds to a halt on dangerous corner. Guy stops to help and lets us use a phone to let the rafting company know we are broken down so they can send the minibus back. We were not too worried as Charlie was still behind us. Finally Rich appears on motorbike to tell us that Charlie had specifically waited for us to tell us that the fuel was about to run out and to change to the rear tank otherwise an airlock would develop. Charlie had not given us this message and when he finally appeared he had not seen us pass, and had gone back to Kampala to search for us. Enough said, we all got to the rafting on time and left Charlie to sort out the cruiser.

...but we're from Manchester!

Sexy legs Mike

One of the essences of our trip is BANANAS! They are to be seen everywhere, growing in every spare patch of land, garden and even whole hillsides covered with them. We see huge green bunches by roadside, on heads (2), on bicycles (up to 5), on motor bikes, in pick-ups and even one sad sight yesterday where they were loaded on top of cattle in a truck. We enjoy ripe ones everyday with breakfast and for snacks throughout the day: they can also be used for brewing beer. Here in East Africa the green plantain banana is also the staple food, steamed or boiled, called matooke, and served in various ways, often with peanut (g-nut) sauce. Deborah, at the Nkuruba Community Campsite, in the crater lake area near Fort Portal cooked a huge pot for us – delicious!

Apart from the fruit, every part of the plant is used in various ways – we saw green leaves used for shade and for rain hats, covering or wrapping paper for food parcels and other items and as a tarp protecting newly built walls in the rain! Dried leaves are used for padding walls of houses, together with poles and mud, also for thatching roofs, mmm….hard to imagine them being waterproof. Even the trunks are split and used for wrapping/padding items, especially for bicycle transport – might be more comfy for the goats or pigs we see tied on the back? Any part of the plant seemed to be fodder for the numerous cows and goats, but any ideas what the neatly trimmed ‘spines’ of the leaves and carefully tied in bundles might be used for?

What is the Ugandan definition of fast food? Driving your bike at 100km/h with your mouth open! Amazingly, today we had some fantastic tar roads that allowed us to zoom the 300km from the Crater Lakes all the way to Kampala in record time despite many of the towns having ridiculously-sized speed humps and the weather regularly switching from sun to rain and back again.

After a morning swim in the lake by the campsite, we left the colobus and vervet monkeys behind us and headed towards the capital. The route had several remarkable sights including the lush green tea plantations either side of the road as well as some comical signs such as the "Happy Wallet Guesthouse", "Cooking oil with the Midas Touch", and "Make your food taste better with the flavour of BUL".

The route was also littered with near-accidents for both Mike and Perry on the BMW and Sam on the Honda. The combination of an oil leak on the BMW which was gently covering the rear wheel with oil which combined with the rain was bad enough. The manic over-taking, roadworks, high-speed minibuses, occasional potholes and weaving motorcyclists made for several very very close calls.

Then we arrived in Kampala in separate 3 groups; split up as usual. Mike and Perry and Sam on the bikes, Charlie and Rich in the Landruiser, and the others in the minibus. Each group had a map and some idea of the destination, but none of us were really prepared for the absolute traffic chaos to await us, arriving at 4.00pm, just as rush hour was starting. Writing form the viewpoint of being on the Honda, it became quickly clear that motorbikes were lowest on the pecking order... I called them the pawns of the game: completely dispensable. Taxis veered out from pick-up points, motorbikes weaved among one another, cars overtook and then pushed bikes to the side. It was total chaos. For once, I was extremely pleased to be on a bike as high as the Honda (despite not being able to touch the ground) as I was higher than all of the other bikes and even many of the car drivers, so I could shout abuse down at them from above.

Within minutes we, the bikers, were lost. The combination of the traffic confusion, the multiple roundabouts, and just trying to avoid being T-boned or knocked flying from the bikes meant we got disoriented. Then we spotted Charlie and the Landcruiser. Mike and Perry shot off to follow him, but I stalled the Honda. While I was re-starting it, with the honking of impatient traffic behind, I saw them both disappear into the mass of traffic. It was then that I came to a four-way junction. Which way had they gone? I took a guess: right. It was four minutes until the lights changed. But the traffic completely ignored them. Red meant go. Green meant stop. Motorbikes could apparently lunge across the lanes in the milliseconds between light changes. The Honda spluttered to a halt just as it was our turn to burst forward across the oncoming traffic. Once again, more impatient honking from behind. The chance had gone and I was suddenly swamped by hawkers. Doormats, plastic chickens, fake wallets, begging - I got dived on. I dismounted and eventually restarted the bike. After another four minutes of waiting, I gave it full revs and set off, hoping that Mike would still be waiting on the other side. Nope. Vanished. I rode up and down the dual carriageway for 15 minutes. No sign of Mike anywhere. Where were we going again?! I could only remember that we should head for Jinja road but that it was not the final road, and that the real road contained the word Bell. That was all. I kept driving close alongside other motorbikes shouting "Jinga" and "Bell", but struggling to be heard over the noise of the engines. Eventually someone got it. "PortBell" they answered. That was it! I followed the directions but then after a few minutes the engine died. Amid a swarm of onlookers shouting the ever familiar "Mzungu!" I pushed the bike up a hill and bumped started it down again. I had run out of fuel. I switched to reserve just as the rescue party arrived. I had got Mathew on Blackberry Messenger and he and Mike had come out to find me. I finally arrived at the camp exhausted but very content and shared the story with all.

The remainder of the evening was chilled at our campsite, the Red Chilli Hideaway. Catching up on photos, cooking and planning the white-water rafting and mountain-biking for the next few days - to be our last in the beautiful country of Uganda.

Team Photo	Romeo (Le singe e dans l'arbre)
Mike eating lunch	Sam eating lunch

We woke at 6.00am and compared stories of how close hippos came to the tents during the night. The unanimous answer: extremely i.e. within 2 metres. After a quick session of porridge, we jumped into the minibus and set off for a game drive in the park. The first hour was uneventful but then we stumbled across some incredible craters surrounded by Thompson Gazelle, Puku, Warthog, Buffalo and the occasional distant sighting of an elephant herd moving across the plains.

After the drive, we regrouped and set off towards Fort Portal and the Crater Lakes passing the Ugandan Equator landmark and some other touring bikers on the way. Driving off the beaten path into the hills we stopped at the Ndali Lodge for a cup of afternoon tea, and shortly after the skies opened and the rainy season officially began (confirmed as August 15th by some people in the local town). This caused us to change plans on the campsite because if the rain had continued overnight, we would never have got out from the first choice campsite at the edge of the lake in the volcano crater. The second choice was still wonderful with Colobus and Golden monkeys diving around in the trees around the tents and easy access to a beatufully warm lake. We finished the evening with dinner and word games on the veranda with a delicious platain and peanut curry cooked by the campsite staff.

Waterbuck	Another group of motorbikes touring
Mike and Sam match the Tetse fly traps - great!	Children running after the Landcruiser

Today went from cold to hot. Some started the day with a cold dip in Lake Bunyonyi with the fog still thick over the lake. Those of us riding bikes (Sam, Mike, and our new recruit Mike from Holland) gently froze in the morning mist still covering the roads. We all headed flawlessly northwards – amazingly there were no vehicle issues and nobody took any wrong turns – miracle! The scenery was spectacular: papyrus, beautiful fields of tea, and lookouts over the rolling hills of Uganda. And there were some comedy sights such as a motorbike carrying a passenger who was himself carrying a bicycle, and the cow that jumped out in front of Mike. The plan was also to stop at the Hot Spings just outside Ishaka for lunch, but, on arriving, we found a muddy pool that several people were using to do their washing – not really what we had in mind for a relaxing lunch spot!

There was one moment of the journey that Charlie and Rich won’t let slip by un-noticed. I was on the BMW and went to overtake them to be rid of the awful black stench being omitted from the Landcruiser's exhaust. I saw them slow down, thinking it was a signal for me to pass and twisted the throttle hard to accelerate around them. What I had failed to see, however, was the 2-foot high monster-sized speed hump in front of them and I hit it hard. I managed to take the majority of the bump to the front wheel in my forearms, narrowly avoiding removing my teeth on the handlebars. The rear wheel, however, was bolted high into the air (allegedly accompanied by my scream, which I continue to contest) and it took a second of two to come back down. It was my first stunt that had been accomplished without ending on the floor.

By lunchtime we had reached Ishaka, where we had a quick “petrol station lunchbreak” of cheese and chutney sandwiches and cold pizza accompanied by Stoney's Tangewizi (Ugandan Ginger Beer) and continued North to the Queen Elizabeth National Park. We arrived at the campground at 3.00pm in an unbearable 34 degree heat. This was another first: arriving at camp at a sensible time! So we set up the tents and went off to the National Park for a sunset boat cruise along the channel that runs through the park dividing Lake George from Lake Edward. We saw a huge array of animals including hippos, buffalo, crocodiles, egrets, herons, monitor lizards, hyena, and even elephants playing in a mud pool on the way into the park.

Back in the park it was already dark, and as we finished off the last mouthfuls of our spaghetti dinner under the dining room tent, we watched a hippo wander into the campsite. Astounded at how the campfire didn’t seem to phase it at all, we wondered how inquisitive it would be once we were settled in our tents.

Mike and Mike	Baby Elephant
Cormorants	Animal viewing from the sunroof

Today is a well-deserved rest day. We had a lie-in followed by a home-cooked brunch looking out over the lake after which everyone had some personal time to do their own thing. Sarah sunbathed (and got a bit burnt), Charlie biked 100km to see a nearby Hydro-electric Power project, Harold and Rich tinkered with the BMW (fine-tuning I am told), Mary relaxed, Mathew and I went into the buzzing town of Kabale where most of the shops were shut because it was Sunday, and the Toyn family played games and went boating in the lake. To finish off the evening we have treated ourselves to a meal made by the campsite restaurant which boasts a wood-oven for pizzas, crayfish curry (fresh from the lake) and tables in a tree-house set into the hillside. As we wait for the food, hoping it comes out better than the microwave ones we've had so far, we discuss our plans for the next phase of the journey (with the advice of Roland the campsite owner): across Uganda towards Kenya.

Rich tinkering

Sarah and Brunch

Mark's first swimming lesson

Dugout

Cool Friends, Football and Goat Roasting!

Mathew

Boating

We woke after the first night of very heavy rainfall on the trip. Most of the tents made it through the deluge without problems… some didn’t. I stepped out of the tent in the morning straight onto an ants nest and spent the rest of the morning slapping myself as I discovered many of the ants had made it into my trousers and shoes.

We packed up the wet tents and were on the road by 8.10am heading for the Ugandan border. Or at least most of us were. Charlie and Mike in the Landcruiser took the wrong road and were headed straight for Kigali. It was only when they saw the sign “Kigali 77km” that they realized they had gone wrong. Fortunately they arrived at the border only 30 minutes behind us. The border crossing was the usual. This time Charlie’s Irish passport came in handy alleviating him from the US$50 visa fee. Furthermore each of the 4 vehicles had to pay a road tax of USch 45,000 (US$21).

As usual, we had intended to arrive at the campsite, Kalebas Camp on Lake Bunyonyi, by lunchtime and, as usual, we had grossly underestimated the length of dirt road to travel. Moreover, for the second time today, we got split up. The motorbikes had zoomed ahead by the time the cars realized that we had gone past the turn. The cars turned back and travelled the long winding road. Meanwhile Harold was on the BMW with Mary on the back and Rich was on the Honda. It was not until the cars had reached the camp that we got the message that the BMW had had a puncture. So Charlie set off in the Landcruiser with the repair kit. Mary had jumped on the back with Rich, who then decided to her at the corner in case the cars came past. But Charlie, not knowing this, headed off to pick up Harold via a faster route. And Harold, not knowing this, would probably return with Charlie. And so, there was uncertainty in the campsite - who, if anyone, would be picking up Mary from the side of the road. And would it be before dark?

While we wait for Mary's return, we took a little dip in the lake, set up the wet tents to dry, did a little washing and played cards. Bunyonyi means 'place of many little birds' and it is an ornithologists dream.

Harold photographing the landscape of Southwestern Uganda		Look Mum - No brakes.

Mathew and I waited in suspense. We did not have a reservation to see the gorillas but were first on the stand-by list. "No chance" said the man at reception, "We are fully booked 3 months in advance". If there wasn't any space, we would simply go with the other on their hike up the Bisoke volcano. We stood and contemplated what we would do if only one space was available. In any one day, only 54 permits are granted to see the 14 groups of gorillas in the Volcano National Park. With a maximum of 8 per group, the chances were slim-to-none.

We watched each of the groups setting off one-by-one, and our chances of seeing the gorillas diminish by the minute. But, just as we were thinking all hope was lost, the manager came over and said that a film crew had failed to organise their permits correctly and that we could take their guide. So, with just Mathew, myself and one other who had tried last minute the day before like us but failed on the first attempt, we were on our way! Fantastic. We paid our US$500 each for the ticket (ouch!) and jumped in the car / motorbike to travel to the starting point.

The first one hour took us upward through farmland to a dry stone wall. This was the entrance to the park?! There was no entrance, we simply had to hurdle the wall. From there we continued a further 1.5 hours through fields of 12-foot high stinging nettles in search of the gorillas with unavoidably frequent stings.

Mid-morning, we reached a small opening where we laid down our bags and took our essentials onwards in our hands. Around the very next corner we spotted our first gorilla, a female, feeding. Not knowing how many we might see, all three of us fired off several hundred photos. The tracker summoned us onwards through the thick undergrowth where we found other females and then a gigantic Silverback. The Silverback was feeding calmly. The tracker and guide made "Ugg...Ugg" noises, which were obviously non-aggressive and he really did not seem to care that we were only a few metres away. All of a sudden he turned and headed straight for us. The guide froze and our reaction was to stumble backwards in fear straight into the stinging nettles staring at the 600lb gorilla moving swiftly towards us. He brushed the guide aside gently with his left arm and continued down the path. We breathed a sigh of relief at the close encounter.

Shortly after that, we came across several juveniles hugging their mothers. As the mothers walked away from us, the one-year-old babies became as fascinated in the humans as we were them. We sat with them while they fed and moved with them as they made their way through the undergrowth. The time allowed with the gorillas is 1-hour, which passed so very quickly. We made our way back down the mountain, chatting incessantly about the incredible experience.

As we had arrived back well before the others, Mathew and I decided to take a taxi into town to do some sight-seeing and ended up visiting two of the local markets with a remarkable number of stalls. We even saw a very optimistic one-legged man trying to make off with a sack of potatoes on crutches. Needless to say he was chased down fairly easily despite a valiant dash across the marketplace.

We returned back to camp to find that the others had just arrived. After a macaroni and cheese dinner, we revised the route plan for the following week and sat down to update the website and pictures.

Female	Juvenile	Silverback
Where you can buy "Thanks"!	Tree tomatoes in the market	Local boy

The trip began the night before when we packed our bags, filled our water bottles and sorted our clothing. We went to bed with some trepidation as we were not sure what to expect in terms of weather, conditions and altitude.

Arrived at the park centre which appeared to be organised chaos with people milling around without any definite purpose. However, out of this arose our group to be greeted by our guide, Eugene. We embarked into our vehicles and set off to the car park. The road quickly turned into a rocky track that was the scariest part of the day for me as I bounced the van along with Harold watching.

At the car park we were offered walking poles and I turned it down based on my experience of walking in the lakes, assuming that it was just to help those unfamiliar with walking to descend. Then we were off. The temperature was warm and we quickly worked up a head of sweat as we climbed through cultivated farmland and headed towards the forest boundary. The change from one to another was quite remarkable, as we stepped over the wall we were suddenly into rich, lush forest with a high humidity. The vegetation was rich and green and full of nettles (nettles, in Africa?). After a while we turned upwards and the path got even steeper and slippier as the mud underfoot offered no traction.

At this point the groups began to fracture according to fitness and health. Perry was not well but had dosed himself up and showed his true colours by keeping a good pace despite clearly not being very well. Rachel was disappointed to feel a little nauseous but she hung in (and onto Bernard) and kept up her forward momentum (all that training in the Lake District must have paid off).

The changes in vegetation as we rose was very noticeable and marked our progress upwards. There were frequent checks of the altimeter to confirm how we were doing. Before we knew it we were on the summit and bags were unpacked to pull out all the spare clothes we had carried up (clothes we had doubted we would need in the heat of the sun at the bottom). Unfortunately, the summit was shrouded in mist but it cleared enough to see the crater lake.

Rich had decided that it would be easier to eat our sandwiches if they were flat and had sat on them in his rucksack before removing them. I can gladly confirm that they still tasted great and were very filling despite their reduced volume.

Once all the photos were taken it was time to head downwards. I did worry that I should have taken up the offer of a walking pole to help deal with the slippy, steep and muddy path. However, once we got going down the path turned out to be ok. In fact it was great fun as we slipped and slided our way down. There were plenty of shrieks from people who were losing their footing to add to the sound of birds in the forest.

Before we knew it, the day was over and we were back at the van. The plan to have taken flasks and tea turned out to have been a very good one and the brews didn’t touch the sides.

There are some very weary folk tonight and the mountain of pasta, cheese sauce and refried beans helped to refuel depleted bellies as team members looked at maps and debated the plan for the next few days.

In summary, brilliant. Big respect to the captain and first mate who were apparently the oldest to make the summit. Well done to Perry and Sarah for making it to the top despite their illness.

Tomorrow, Uganda. “We will be there by lunchtime” goes the usual refrain. However, the road will decide if this becomes true or not.

After a morning dip in the warm clear waters of Kivu the intrepid team were ready to face another day in the Rwandan mountains. First job was given to Mat to haggle with the manager of Moria Hills Resort over the price of our meal last night. The meal took so long to arrive that Charlie’s beard had grown by 2 inches, Sam had taken another 300 photos, Jay and Perry had read 2 new books and the group managed to complete a long and taxing game of Password… more than enough reason to get a discount on the food! Which of course Mathew skillfully did, leaving the manager crying for mercy!

On the way out of Kibuye we stopped at Home St Jean Church to see a genocide memorial. It was a moving experience as many of us reflected on Rwanda’s history and the suffering the people and country had endured. As a group we have enjoyed the amazing scenery of Rwanda and also the friendliness of the people. Skulls and bones reminded us of what the people still walking along the dirt roads we are moving on, have experienced. We said a prayer for the continued healing of the country and people. Rwanda is making progress to heal those wounds and unify the country, but it’s a tough job. We did travel through a village where 50,000 Tutsi and moderate Hutu’s had escaped to during the genocide of 1994. They defended themselves from the militia for one month, with only basic farming implements. Eventually the Militia brought reinforcements and massacred all but 1300 of the embattled group. Three weeks later the French forces arrived and typical of the UN involvement it was, ‘too little, too late!’ So what does God have to say about those who committed such atrocities and the victims of it? I think its the same He says to us all no matter what our situation, ‘Come to me, where I will give you rest. Come home, where everything will be OK.’ He is the only solution to the darkness and waywardness of the human heart.

The dirt road continued to twist into the green rolling hills.. Charlie on the Honda was already past the tea plantations before some of us had digested our morning cuppa. Mike and Rachel cuddled up on the BMW while the rest of us brought up the rear in the 4 wheelers. Amazing scenes again greeted us, not just the steep cultivated slopes but also the man with the wooden scooter and being mobbed by children at a local café! For the Tea lovers amongst us we had a great day - knowing that there is no shortage of Tea in Rwanda! Tea plantations stretched out as far as the eye could see.

After some welcome TAR road we landed in Gisenyi, Charlie realized the new clutch sleeve had only lasted 3 days and the mechanic was a ‘spas!’ but we carried on anyway. We then hit Musanze, the gorilla capital of Rwanda. We needed a guide (clinging onto the back of the Honda!) just to get to the offices of the ORTPN let alone any other activities, don’t know what it stands for but its where we can organize activities in the Virunga mountains. Which we did and then found a great campsite near the park gate, which should help the team get to the park gate on time for the start of activities and the next adventure!

Buying pineapples	Chased by children
Arriving in Volcano National Park	The photographer caught feeding

Since I last wrote we have been through 3 countries, and travelled a lot of miles. It’s been interesting to see the changes in people places and culture. In Tanzania the faces of the people changed with more Arabic influence the women instead of carrying their babies on their backs in a sling over their shoulder just carry them with the kitenge wrapped round their torso, in Burundi the faces of Hutu and Tutsi people’s clearly distinguishable, although it was sobering and saddening to see the UN compounds right as we entered the country, a hospital and once a huge refugee camp. I felt saddened to think back in the troubled days in the tribal wars how many people walked along those roads just not knowing.

The landscape that unfolded however was something that I could never have expected, beautiful highlands and lake Tanganyika just as amazing at its north end as it is in Zambia, warm and crystal clear! We went through the capital Bujumbura it was busy and noisy but an enjoyable ride on the back of the motorbike with Rich in control! My life in his hands (again). Getting to the Rwandan boarder was easy, the people on the way so friendly, it was very amusing to find that us British passport holders get into Rwanda free and Charlie and Mathew have to pay a wapping $60 each! Ha!

Entering Rwanda I don’t know quite what I expected, but it has the most beautiful landscape you could ever imagine. Mountains and winding roads make the distance that you need to travel about 3 times longer than the direct route! But we followed these for 2 days winding along the shores and mountain roads and passes along the shores of Lake Kivu. The villages we passed through were so vibrant and exciting, the children sooo excited to see amazungu (white people) out of the million tourists that visited Rwanda in 2008 it is plain to see that not many if any of them went along the route we went on, and what a treat they have missed out on.

Visiting the Genocide memorial was a thought provoking start to today day the light flooding through the stain glass windows was colorful and uplifting in contrast to the remains of the people slaughtered. This is a very touching reminder that can not be ignored but also very important that it is never forgotten. A new generation of Rwanda is rising and the way forward is in its unity, the lessons of the pas must remain. I was very happy to see the young children in the villages all in school uniform and some very new looking school buildings in the remotest of places. This country has a bright future to look forward to and I pray that it continues to flourish in all that it has to offer. Rwanda is one of the richest countries in terms of culture people and landscape that I have ever seen and I feel incredibly privileged to have had the opportunity to be here.

Wooden scooter

Up early in eager anticipation of an exciting day and the possibility of actually reaching a destination before dark! It was only 120ks to Kibuye on Lake Kivu, so should have been a piece of cake (NB should have). The dilatory departure set the tone for the day and so we set off, first stop in the little town of Cyangugu at the Boulangerie for fresh bread, samoosas and delicious croissants. An hour or so down the road, Chas and Rich in the l/cruiser spied ‘Le Café de l’Ouest’ and soon we were seated outdoors in a well tended garden on a magnificent site overlooking the stunning Lake Kivu.

Coffee and tea were served in a unique way – the six from the luxury bus had been persuaded to stop – and so we were served 8 brightly multi-coloured thermos flasks and 8 each bowls of sugar and pots of milk! The coffee was freshly brewed and excellent and Jay managed to squeeze two-and-a-half cups of tea out of his one Rwandan tea bag. The beverages were enhanced by the freshly baked yummy croissants.

We happily piled into the vehicles again little thinking this would be the last sighting of Chas and Rich for many hours…..Somehow we took the scenic route and they took the tourist route and after some frantic messaging via Dan’s UK phone in JHB to Chas’ Tanzanian phone, and a mended radiator hose, we finally met up in a hotel car park in Kibuye! We are now happily ensconced in a campsite overlooking one of the numerous mini ‘fjords’ of the lake, drinking tea and other local brews, refreshed after a lovely swim.

Back to the journey, the next stop (after coffee) was at Musaruro, a picturesque little village with a huge population and almost-cold cokes. The bikers, Harold and Perry on the BMW and Sam the Valiant on the Honda, were awaiting us, sprawled biker-style on the outdoor verandah, the l/cruiser nowhere to be seen. A leisurely interlude followed with us entertaining the locals and vice versa, many fotos being taken. The bus wasn't really stolen and burnt out. We just wanted to make sure you are reading the words, not just looking at the pictures!

The next part of the trip was interspersed with many stops and go slows for photo opportunities, which abounded. It was a dirt road winding through the most beautiful scenery, steep mountainous terrain stretching down to the lake. Every hillside was meticulously cultivated, many at the most precarious angles, with bananas, cassava, tea and coffee. The valley floors were emerald green with rice paddies. We encountered a little rain and the stout roofs of tin or Mediterranean type tiles (no thatch) suggested a heavy rainy season. Other sights and sounds en route were moving haystacks (cattle fodder piled high above the cyclist) birds and birdsong everywhere, less population than expected (cf Burundi), continual mist hanging over mountain and lake and giving an ethereal atmosphere – we were having to pinch ourselves anyway to believe we were really in the beautiful Rwanda.

Sam had left strict instructions with the bus passengers to take loads of pictures, so Jay and I risked life and limb (and especially ribs, ouch Dan) with our heads through the sun-roof, snapping off about 200 pictures - am sure I’ve got RSI in my wrist after wielding those heavy cameras, but we did have fun…

We are all really missing Daniel and it was great to hear today that he is being discharged and the doctor reckons he has made a remarkable recovery. Unfortunately he is not allowed to fly for 2 wks so our hopes of him flying up to Kigali to join us won’t materialize, boohoo. Hope you get to Cape Town, Dan – do your best to enjoy it and thanks for help with comms today!

SEQUEL to the day. Time for a stroll to the end of the promontory stretching out far into the lake, catch up on washing chores, in particular Mike in a seeming frenzy with a blue bucket, several times up and down to the lake, decision to give the cooks a night off, leisurely meal at the hotel, where the leisure was the 2 hr wait for the food to arrive, but relieved by a humorous game of Password and much discussion over the route and plans for the morrow.

Getting directions	Mzungu!
Our minibus was found burnt out	Sam on the Honda

Harold in Musaruro
Enjoy Coca Cola	Mathew showing off his pictures

On the way to Kibuye, we passed Kisingoro hospital where Harold had a contact he wanted to drop in to visit. While he was nside, I waited outside where I was to see a comedy unfold before my eyes.

A middle-aged lady had just been discharged from the hospital we her right leg in plaster. They had called a taxi to the mountain location to collect her and take her home. As is the case in this part of the world, the taxi ended up being a moped. Several men helped lift her on to the back of the motorbike and then they set about trying to work out how to keep her right leg off of the ground. In the end, they tied her ankle with a piece of cloth to the handlebars. Apparently only I could see the fatal flaw here should the driver want to turn. If he turned left, ther leg would be lifted (which was obviously going to cause her even more discomfort than she was already in) and if he turned right, the foot was simply going to hit the floor. In any case, they continued to finish rigging her up, only to find that the driver couldn't get to the kick-start because the plaster-cast leg was now in the way. So they untied the leg, started the engine and re-tied the leg. Then the driver stalled, so they had to do it all over again. On the second attempt, the driver held the revs while the leg was being tied back to the handlebars and then off they both shot up the very bumpy hill into the distance. I wonder if she made it home with only one broken leg!

There are many and varied road hazards in East Africa, from unwary pedestrians to stretches of potholes connected up by small amounts of tarmac. Starting with people, pedestrians crowd the edge of the road that have seemingly no sense of danger and won’t move out of your way. Crowds of children will often run out into the road at the rare sight of a white person driving by, endangering following vehicles. People on bikes with goods piled higher then their heads are also a danger. You will seem them either pushing their bikes up the side of a hill or as a blur descending the far side with no brakes or control. Animals are another large problem whether the mobile roadblock (herd of cows) or the stubborn goat that won’t move until you are seconds away from turning it into road-kill. With vehicles the first rule is always: the bigger you are the more right to the road you have. So oncoming lorries will expect you to pull of to the side. Another rule is that you must overtake whenever possible, a minibus taxi once overtaking us only to pull in just in front of us to drop someone off. Indicators are used for everything from showing overtaking to marking the edge of a vehicle at night. The only thing they aren’t used for is indicating. Potholes appear regularly on all roads so drivers can’t get too complacent. And dirt roads are the worst; low clearance vehicles needing to be on constant alert to avoid grounding on rough surfaces. There are also the less usual dangers such as when we let an oncoming pickup turn in front of us and it turned out to be a telecommunications van dragging a telegraph pole.

Of all of the days of the trip so far, this was probably the least eventful. The day started with the customary puncture, this time at an angle on the beach where we had camped the previous night, which made it tricky lifting the vehicle up to swap out the tyre. We had thought that the side wall of the tyre had torn but it turned out that the Chinese inner tube was sub-standard, according to Charlie, rather than the fact that he was driving across sharp stones laden to the roof.

After we finally got on the road, we set off for Bumjumbura, where our only stop was to fuel up the bikes and cars with the last of our Burundi Francs before heading the 100+ kilometers towards the Rwandan border along yet another pothole-ridden major road. We were careful not to make a wrong left turn at any of the junctions as that would have sent us to the Congo border, which would definitely not be a good outcome. By now, we are getting pretty good at border crossings. I had sorted the vehicle carnets even before the entire group had arrived, so after a quick stop to pay the US$20 Burundi visa charge (which we were supposed to pay on entering the country but the officer had run out of receipts), we were able to travel straight on up the hill to the Rwandan entry point.

Charlie was mad. Having laughed at those of us having to travel on British passports, where he could travel on an Irish passport and allegedly receive preferential treatment at borders, he suddenly found that UK citizens were to pay nothing for a Rwandan visa, but he and Mathew were robbed of US$60 each. We couldn't help but giggle. After clearly all the documentation, again in record time (with the unexpected help of state-of-the-art computers), we got back on the road heading into Rwanda. The population density dropped immediately. Burundi had been such a crowded place. It was now a pleasure to see things back to 'normal' again.

After 80km, we were hunting for Cyangugu, a town at the south east corner of Lake Kivu. The area seems to hve gone through some name changes recently as people were unable to confirm whether Cyangugu was a town, district of region. In the end we ignored it completely and pitched our tents in the garden of the Peace Guesthouse in Kamembe. Mike was ill and so got a room. Mathew and I couldn't be bothered to pitch a tent yet again and so we rented a room for US$24. As Mathew said, that's 3 coffees each, so let's just do it.

After dinner, just after 9pm, Charlie and I set out on the BMW into town to find an internet cafe to post the latest pictures and blog entries. We arrived at the Ten-to-Ten hotel who boasted "Internet Cafe" on the gigantic sign in front, but subsequently discovered that they had none, and had never actually had any. Walking through the town in the dark, escorted by Bernard, a member of Ten-to-Ten staff, we visited a real internet cafe but to our dismay it was already closed. "I know", said Bernard, "There's another on a little way down a side street". The tarmac quickly turned into a dusty track. It was very dark, but the street lamps provided a little sense of security. After about 5 minutes, we reached a corner with the sign "Cyber Cafe Plus" above the door. The whole place was shut up, but after banging on the door a little, the owner finally opened up and then called for the administrator. The teenager arrived shortly after and let me plug straight in. Amazingly, despite being in the middle of nowhere in Rwanda, we got a 10KB/s connection and the whole site was updated in less than 20 minutes. Total charge: 500 Rwandan Francs (US$1) including a 50% tip for opening the place just for us! Then it was back to camp and off to bed.

Fixing a puncture on the beach

Transporting bananas

Rich and Sarah

It was a fairly leisurely start in the Jakobsen Beach campsite. Porridge for breakfast was accompanied by the sound of the waves of Tanganika Lake breaking gently on the private beach just 50 feet away. Several people had been up since 5.00am as fishermen on the lake beat their oars against the sides of the boat to lure the fish to the surface. As we ate our food, we watched the monkeys come as close as they dare, hoping to scavenge any unguarded food.

After a short swim in the lake, we packed up and headed into Kigoma to refuel the vehicles and do a little shopping. The town was fascinating; the liveliest location we'd been to on the trip so far. The one main street was lined with stores, most of which seemed to be hairdressers. After buying the lunch items, we set off. Mike was on the BMW, I was on the Honda. From yesterday's nightmare ride, we knew that the road was going to be in an appalling condition, but we had no choice: we had to get to Burundi today if we were to make up any of the 3 days we were already behind schedule.

After the brief stretch of tarmac, we were into knee-deep silt that was part of the road under construction. Mike fell once, I fell twice within 100 feet. My lasting memory will be trying to pick up the bike; exhausted from having battled for 30 minutes to drive through the ever-shifting terrain, every attempt to lift the bike seemed to result in it sliding away from me. Then getting back on the bike itself was like trying to climb back onto a snowboard in deep powder. Exhausting.

However, the driving conditions changed instantly when we finally found an alternative route to the Burundi border. We were now surrounded by spectacular countryside with reasonable roads that meandered up through the hills for the next 120km. The mountains dropped away either side of the roads with views of mountain ranges either side covered in palm trees. Every few minutes we would come across a village and the inhabitants, especially the children, would come running to the side of the road to wave at us as we went past. It was an absolutely fanstastic experience.

We reached the border with Burundi at about 3.00pm, much later than we had originally hoped, partly because of the slow start and partly because of the poor road conditions in the morning. The exit paperwork was swift and we continued down the 23km 'lonely road' between the two immigration offices passing two of the UN refugee camps and with another major wipe out on the sand from your truly that twisted the handlebars once again. Charlie unhelpfully commented, "try to avoid the sand" as he drove past me picking myself up.

On reaching the town of Mapanda, we completed immigration. The town was very different to those we had left in Tanzania. Apart from the fact we were now driving on the right and speaking French, it was much more densely populated and children ran amock everywhere. Within two minutes of parking the bikes, we had a gathering of 40 children crowding around us. Some wanted to touch them (and a nasty shock came to the ones that touched the exhaust as it was still extremely hot from the journey), some stood copying everything I did, and others simply watched as I stripped off some of the protective layers. We changed some money and set off into the nearest town to try to find a campsite.

All of the vehicles got split up, but fortunately (and completely by accident) we bumped into each other again which was very lucky as nobody's phone seems to be able to get a signal here. After a little searching, and a pointer from a hotel, we ended up 10km outside of the town camping on a very narrow beach belonging to the Saga hotel (nothing to do with old people's holidays. Whereas last night we 50 feet from the water, tonight we will be just 5 feet from the breaking waves. As midnight approaches, the others have long since gone to bed. Mike isn't feeling well - he's now the fourth in the group to get the bug and I am off for a shower in one of the hotel rooms loaned to us for its facilities.

Watching for breakfast crumbs	"It's the president!"
Villagers come to see the bikes	Setting up camp on the beach in Burundi

Sam ready for the dust - nice ski goggles!

The two brothers decided to ride today as they had not much opportunity thus far with all the younger enthusiasts lining up to test the big machines – except on a the day we were due to hit the big sand… And what a day it was to be! We managed to leave the wallowing hippo at our riverside camp site by 9am and headed off into the nearby village of Mpanda to fuel up and head north for the beach at Kigoma, 300km away.

We had the most varied roads and the first part reminded us of the road to Mwinilunga, back home. The orange, red, gold and pinks of the new leaf on the trees [kalepu] made a glorious sight with the sun shining on it, especially on a hillside. The road was very similar to the days when we used to race down the Copperbelt. First Mate bravely decided to pillion with her Capt and we had some fun for a few hours – until the road deteriorated and it seemed a good idea to hop back in the bus rather than be dumped unceremoniously in the sand – which would have happened a short way along – fortunately a passing pick-up stopped to give a hand righting the machine.

There were some beautiful sights including a lovely waterfall emerging from a dusty mountainside and cascading down into the steep valley below. Lunch was a quick stop in the forest but in spite of no local inhabitants the honey flies found us with 2 minutes. The last stretch descending to Kigoma was a nightmare as the road was being reconstructed by the Chinese who do not believe in detours or warning signs. The tracks we rode along were narrow, dusty, busy and seemingly unending. One tip into the thick fine powder filled my boots I was so thankful to complete this stretch before darkness fell and thought of the bus and Cruiser behind, praying no one would get a puncture or any other delay! What a delight for all to arrive safely at Jakobsen’s beach on the eastern shore of` Lake Tanzania. A good supper, shower or swim in the lake and we were ready to share the day’s adventures and look forward to the next!

Hippos at the campsite	The long and winding bumpy road	Dinner at the campsite

It was the best of biking days with some dubious navigating thrown in for luck! After a wonderful night at Tatanda mission we set off early into the dusty tracks of western Tanzania…However, mention must be made to the activities in the night…Unfortunately Jay and Sam succumbed to the dreaded African Belly and rather than the roars of lions some of us were awoken by their roars of throwing up outside their tents.. ORS and flat coke were now installed on the menu!

First challenge was for bikers Mike and Rich to scale the new Vodacom aerial mast and get some great views of the landscape.. The steep rocky ascent gave them something to sweat about and the views were awesome! On seeing the aerial, Mike wondered just how on earth did they get the thing up the road.. Another African mystery!

The beautifully named Sumbawanga was a breath of almost fresh air compared to the previous dusty tracks… After a considerable brunch at the Marauvian Church Café we all headed off to meet (this was the assumed plan?!) at the gate of Katavi National Park. Only 120km, or 150km or 200km away… this mythical location was where the happy convey would all meet. However, some were delayed due to petrol, chlorine and pizzas and the team which is normally as tight as glue, were suddenly separated! This did cause some directional confusion in the ranks and the Captain leading the bus apparently following Rich’s tire tracks went on a longer scenic route…Charlie and the land cruiser had set off into the horizon and were already in the Park before the ‘stragglers’ as they were affectionately known had realized they had gone the ‘long way round’! Mike was infact leading the way at one point until Charlie tricked him into doing some extra km’s and then subsequently took the lead. Mike then went off the radar, and was eventually found stranded in the Park trying to fix a front flat tire. In the meantime Rich had run out of fuel and was also at the mercy of the wild animals in the Park- doing his own version of solo survival. The pre-trip fables of Lions chasing vehicles thankfully did not materialize, but Mike at one stage was completely surrounded by Mopani flies and Rich had to dodge a suicidal Warthog!

The entrance gate did not exist.. But we all did manage to meet up and camp just outside the Park. Next to a Hippo infested pool, where our host Wilfred could not be more helpful…We were treated to an unbelievable meal (that most lions or herbivores would die for!) by the cooking team. Many accusations were being thrown around during the de briefing of the days events such as….sarah was sitting on the radio, sam didn’t have the radio on.. Why did Harold have the GPS? Why were those children sitting on the sign? Why didn’t we have a game plan for the day?

More lessons learnt for the intrepid explorers.. what adventures lie for them next?

P.S. Sarah, thank you so much for going ahead and putting up the tents for us. Next time, though, you might want to check it is the right campsite first?!!

We left the Thorntree Guesthouse after re-packing the Landcruiser and joined the others at Shoprite to get some more supplies before setting off in convoy to the Zambian border town of Mbala. Charlie sped ahead on the BMW, with Sarah on the back, to get the customs documents for the vehicles started. By 1.30pm we had changed the Honda to dirt tyres, re-fuelled, eaten a small lunch of warm chips and sausage (watched by a crazy local guy wearing soiled tights and a T-shirt), and cleared the Zambian side. We set off on the 25km bumpy sandy track to the border itself. I was on the Honda and Rich was on the BMW.

It may have been an appalling track for the cars but for the bikes it was fantastic. I got over-excited and wiped out in the sand. As the bike dropped away underneath me, my body twisted 180 degrees, and I continued down the road for a further 20 metres on my left kidney with arms and legs in the air. I picked myself up and inspected the road rash. Returning to the bike in a cloud of dust, I found I had scuffed the right hand-guard and twisted the front wheel off-centre. I dusted myself down as I waited for Rich to catch-up, picked up the bike, and continued the remainder of the way with the handlebars at a 10 degree angle to the direction I was travelling.

We all met at the border, Charlie fixed the Honda and we were through by 6.30 (we lost an hour due to the time difference between the two countries). By this time, it was dark and we headed on to the Tatanda Mission directed by a text message saying "4th village / 15 miles from the border, double-back on yourself when you see the cellphone mast." It seemed simple enough, but in the pitch black it would have been easily missed had the motorbikes not already gone ahead.

We arrived to a huge welcome from about 30 delegates who were there attending a conference for the weekend. Some had come over 40 miles by bicycle for the event. Pastor Evodi Simbeya greeted us in person and we quickly went about putting up the tents in the dark lit only by our headlamps, still in front of the full welcoming committee who were fascinated. We were then invited to wash our hands with hot water and soap on the doorstep and pass through a wooden doorframe with no door inside the main building of the Mission, a two-storey comparatively modern brick structure. The main room had a dining area with a selection of tables and stools around it. Upon it was a mountain of rise that lay upon a vast circular plate, along with beans and chicken. The room was lit by a single kerosene lamp high up on a dresser by the table. We removed our headlamps and let our eyes adjust. The room stretched back into the darkness with a lounge area where some of the delegates were chatting. It was too dark to see their faces but their voices talking calmly in Swahili could be heard. On the far wall was an empty fireplace with a pair of rubber boots sitting in the hearth. Alongside sat an antique iron with the flap at the back for inserting a hot piece of charcoal.

After the meal, we went straight to bed as it was going to be another early morning the next day. We would be up at dawn and off to Sumbawamba 45km away for breakfast.

The night turned out to be a sleepless one for both Jay and I - we were the first on the trip to get food poisoning.

A gift of Zambian coffee from Luke	Mathew blending in with the locals	The biggest rice dish ever
	Mike fits the solar panel to the Landcruiser roof

Mary, Mathew, Perry, Jay and I set off from Kapisha wondering what would be in store for us at the hospital. First had to collect the Interpol and registration documents for all the vehicles from Mpika. Charlie had previously organized these in Lusaka and arranged for a bus to drop them off at the ‘Juldan Motors’ office – to be found somewhere in Mpika – no further details available. Fortunately Mathew spotted it relatively easily on the main road, one of the many pink and turquoise Zain sponsored buildings in the area. However the office was locked – “come back at 17:00 hours” was not the answer we were hoping for. We eventually roused someone to give us the documents and continued on to the hospital.

We were greeted there by Daniel who despite insisting that he was fit to travel was clearly in agony – the staff at the hospital had deemed paracetamol and ibuprofen sufficient to combat the pain of his broken rib. However I scanned his hospital notes and noticed that they had written ‘consider pethidine’ – I could wholeheartedly recommend this having been given it during childbirth. The next time Dan was visited by the sister (with 2 assistants long white coats) he told them the pain was very bad and they duly offered the pethidine. This enabled Dan to feel comfortable enough even to play a round of Password. In the meantime Dr Pauline had diagnosed Dan with a punctured lung and stated he was not fit to travel.

We all decided to stay at the hospital – eyeing up Dan’s suite of rooms, but as the sister pointed out – other patients may arrive during the night so they needed to keep the beds free. However we could stay in some guest rooms at ‘Father Marks’. We set off to find his house and rang the doorbell (which was reminiscent of Father Ted) and arranged our rooms.

We returned to see the patient, sneaking our gas bomb and packet of spaghetti into the ward and made dinner for everyone (in our party – not everyone in the hospital).

Probably enough said – Dan deteriorated in the night and was re-xrayed to have the punctured lung confirmed (and minimum 3 broken ribs)– he was whisked into theatre and a drain inserted. This helped matters enormously as he no longer needed to cough and could breath more easily. The arrangements were made to medivac him by air ambulance to Johannesburg. Absolutely gutting not to have him continue with the trip.

We continued to Kasama and rejoined the rest of the group.

I looked at the itinerary this morning after returning from a bathe in the Hot Springs. According to the original plan we should have been entering Burundi today. Right now, we couldn't be further from that. We are still in Zambia and have not even entered Tanzania although we hope to tomorrow. The last 12 hours have been consumed by monitoring Dan's progress by SMS. Last night, shortly after repairing a puncture, Dan apparently hit a pothole, veered off the road, hit something that cartwheeled him over the handlebars finishing with both him and the bike in the ditch. He scrambled up the bank and flagged down Harold and Charlie who were following in the Landcruiser. The crash was bad enough that Dan was taken to hospital.

First word came this morning that he had a broken rib and would continue the trip with us although in some pain. Fortunately I had brought a ton of Ibuprofen. In order to keep some progress, we split into 2 groups: Charlie, Mike, Sarah, Rich and I would continue further north towards the border; Mary, Rachel, Mathew, Jay and Perry would travel back to Mpika to collect Dan and Harold from the hospital. We all wondered whether we were to ever travel as a single group on this trip.

Rich and I set off on the bikes through the sandy outback and then on to the tar. It was a fun ride, especially seeing all of the sights on the way like a cyclist carrying a full sofa on the back of the bike, a pig being taken for walk, passing the town of Ishitu, and the continual rush of children coming to the road-side waving and shouting to us as we drove past. Unusually, today we didn't have any optimistic obese Zambian women flagging us down for a lift! It was a great 150km ride along mostly good road.

But the smiles were removed from our faces as my group reached Kasama. We received message that Dan had broken ribs and punctured a lung and would be flown out of the country as soon as possible. We were all shell-shocked by the news but typical of Dan, his words were, "the journey must go on". We headed quietly for the Thorn Tree Guesthouse in Kasama, some more friends of Rich's, to see if we could camp in their garden. The plan was to wait there for the other group to arrive the following day and then we could cross the border in Tanzania together. On arriving, we were graciously offered one of the guesthouse's vacant apartments for the night. While were thought of Dan, his bad fortune, and prayed for a speedy recovery, we had appeared to have landed on our feet. Not only did the guesthouse have two beds and a private terrace, but it also had a little kitchen and we had the Landcruiser which contained all of the rations for the three-week trip! As we raided the food containers, we thought of the other group, what they were doing for the night with no food and stuck in the trucker pitstop called Mpika. And I thought especially of the new development: I would now be spending the remainder of my holiday with my friend's family but without my friend! Luckily for me they are a great bunch.

Apparently Charlie 'parked' against the tree!

Mathew in the Hot Springs

Yet another puncture

Given that this is a Zambian holiday it is hardly surprising that things have not gone as we planned. Would it be news if I mentioned that Charlie, Dan and Harold did not arrive at the hot springs?

Dan suffered a puncture en route and had to wait for the cruiser for spares, this meant that he was forced to continue in the dark. The sad news is that despite his many hours of riding and his acute awareness of the dangers of Zambian roads at nights he hit a pothole, lost control and fell off.

He was taken to a nearby mission hospital where it was revealed that he has broken a rib (late breaking news is that he has a punctured lung and very, very sadly his holiday is over)

We waited anxiously at Kapisha and for news and started the day with our usual pot of porridge (I fulfilled my duty as pot scraper), there were numerous trips to the bar to get mobile signal. The plan evolved to let Mary and a contingent travel back to the hospital to see Dan whilst the rest of us carried on in the cruiser and the two motorbikes.

The cruiser posse comprised Mike (writing), Rich (on the BMW), Sam (on the Honda), Sarah and Charlie. We made good progress to the tar and then made our way to Kasama where we are now. We have recently heard that the rest of the team are staying with Dan until his airlift is arranged and we have had to find somewhere to stay. Rich tapped into his connections and has managed to locate us a guest house with two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. Kasama is on a ridge and our guest house looks out over the plains below. We are thinking that we have struck lucky with our accommodation compared to the rest of the team kipping down at the mission hospital. My thoughts go to those folk whose only possessions are in the back of our vehicle!

I have risked the wrath of the quartermasters by raiding the food packages in the back of the cruiser to provide food for us. We are shortly going to enjoy a meal of potatoes and chilli (or a veg omelet for me!). We have also got a few beers and made our acquaintance with the duty free whisky to help us cope with the misfortunes that have befallen us so far.

Oh yes, did I mention that the cruiser has a flat tyre that will need fixing tomorrow? We have yet to find out how Sam and Mathew feel about being on an African adventure that they expected to enjoy with their friend Dan but now face spending the rest of their time with Dan’s relations. If they survive a holiday with the Rea’s then they are clearly made of the right stuff.

Chief Pot Scraper

Each of the team rose slowly between 6.00am and 8.00am. There was no need to hurry as this was the location where we would wait for the the Landcruiser and other BMW to join us. Having arrived in the pitch black, I had not seen any of the campsite. In fact, I had stubbed my toe on a tree root returning to the tent in the dark (no, I had not been drinking!) and had a bloody mess to deal with before I could go to bed. The morning sunlight revealed a picturesque campsite with a river at the lower end, which was apparently crocodile infested, so no morning swim. However, the hot springs made for a wonderful dip.

We decided that the day would consist of collecting some vegetables from the campsite garden for lunch, and then after lunch, a white-water rafting trip down the river - the same crocodile-infested one I was referring to earlier! The rapids were exhilarating. Travelling in two boats, we each got caught on the rocks a few times, and Hannah, a member of the campsite staff who had agreed to come with us, was the only person we lost overboard. We didn't see any crocs, but the other boat saw a large snake swimming upstream. We passed some local women fishing in the stream who greeted us in Bemba. Hannah and Sarah, who have both been out in Zambia for a while, replied briefly as we floated past.

Three hours later, after some rock jumping, we returned to the lodge to find great news from Dan, Harold and Charlie. They had set off from Chengelo and we should expect them later on in the evening. For the first time since the pre-trip briefing at base, the whole team would finally be united.

"Bad luck comes in 3s". Well, yesterday afternoon, we got the third. Rich hit a pothole in the Honda and the rear tyre punctured instantly. We were 25km from Mpika, which can best be described as a stopover town for truck drivers making the route down to Lusaka, and miles from the next town on the route. As all of the spares were in the Landcruiser, which was still being fixed, we neither had the tools to remove the back wheel, nor a spare inner tube. The puncture repair kit was useless as the valve had been sheared from the tube. It was early afternoon; we pulled in to the side of the road to discuss options. The only choice was for Mary and Rich to head back to Mpika in the minibus to try to find some tools and another inner tube. A few hours later they returned but with limited success. Rich had met a guy called Biggie, who had agreed to loan us a spanner to remove the wheel. By this time, night was falling, so we took the vehicles up the side road to Mumamba Farm, which was conveniently right where we had stopped, and set up a make-shift camp for the night. There was the distant sound of voices any wildlife moving close to us as we settled down for a windy night.

Morning came quickly. Rich and Mike removed the Honda's back wheel, strapped it to the BMW and then the Honda to a tree, and set off together for Mpika. While they were gone, we packed up the minibus and then sat under a tree to shelter from the sun which was growing ever stonger. A few hours later, they returned. Father Thomas in Mpika had given them a new inner tube (albeit slightly smaller than perfect) which had been fitted in the tyre and fully pumped up. They had also had the punctured inner tube bandaged by the local BP garage as a spare. After replacing the wheel, we were finally on our way. It had been an unscheduled overnight stop but we were happy to be moving again.

But the good fortune lastly briefly. After only 20km, the new inner tube burst in what appeared to be multiple places. Rich and Mike propped the bike up on a milestone and put the original patched-up tyre back in. But after only 10km the valve sheared off again and we were forced to pull over for the third time. We sat and pondered our very limited options (essentially none but ditch the bike) over a lunch of the last sandwiches.

As we were eating, Rich called one of his contacts: the owner of the campsite at Kapisha Hot Springs. Good news, Mark would be passing in his truck later that afternoon and we could load the Honda onto the truck. So Rich and I stayed behind with the bike as everyone else went on by BMW and minibus. We would meet again at the Hot Springs. We also received word from Dan that the red BMW was still being tuned and that Charlie had successfully sourced the parts in Kabwe which would be fitted the following day. One minor problem, Charlie had left his wallet and all his cash in his motorbike jacket which was with us! We don't know how he got around this, but knowing Charlie, he found a way.

Rich and I spent the next 5 hours by ourselves, sitting at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, passing the time idly. I had pulled the Lonely Planet East Africa guide from my bag before the minibus had left and we each read extracts from it, wondering whether or not the trip would even make it beyond the Tanzanian border. It was not until 6.30pm, just as night fell, that Mark turned up with a truck full of food on his way back to the Hot Springs. It took two of Mark's helpers to come down from the truck to help us raise the heavy bike in the pitch black onto the back of the truck. We tied it as tightly as we could in expectation of the very pot-holed road ahead, and climbed high up on top of the cargo. It was now the dead of night, and the temperature had plummeted. As we raced along at 100km/h the icy wind chilled us both to the bone. As I pulled up my fleece collar to shield my face from the wind and tried to keep my balance sitting on the slippery 100lb bag of flour, I was reminded of the backpacking trips of my 20s where travelling with the cargo was a cheap way to get from place to place. But I was simply thankful that we had been collected and that the bike was going to have a safe home at the campsite even if we did have to ditch it at this point in the journey. 1.5 very cold hours later, we arrived at Kapisha Hot Springs to a very warm welcome of a cold beer at the bar and a spaghetti bolognese in front of the camp fire.

Honda supported by a tree	The make-shift campsite	Stranded
Spectators to another tyre change	Taking the tyre into Mpika	Loading the Honda on the truck in the dark

The hitches and problems that have got in our way so far might appear to the every day person as very annoying, unhelpful and worrying… yes I am finding them a little of these things however my main focus is on the things to come, I’m not letting the troubles of today make me worry about tomorrow ….well apart from the fact that I left nearly all of my luggage to be brought along later to allow space in the bus for all the necessities…… putting a few bits n bobs in bwana Rich’s bag …. This included sleeping stuff obviously, deo, shampoo and only 2 pairs of clean pants! Please oh please let it only be 2 days before I get my things. Its like having lost luggage at the airport I sympathize with whoever may have experienced this.

The journey so far is going well apart from that but I am in the luxury coach right now, Matt is doing a great job of driving avoiding all the pot holes with a bit of kings of Leon on the stereo… weather is beautiful and Jay n Perry are busy catching 40 winks behind me! The riders are doing well but as I write this we just got the news that Dan has decided that he can’t fix his bike enough to continue and has headed back home. God has protected us so far and I believe guiding us in wisdom with the choices we make so I pray that this problem can be sorted fast. He shall be missed in volley ball…. Read on. Lunch was good, fillet steak sarnies with mango chutney, and peanut butter and jam one for pudding and a good old banana (that tastes a bit like an apple!)… I bought 20 for K5000 at Serenje, what a bargain. We left there just under an hour ago, well on the way 2 Kapishya now, its one of my favorite places in zed, will let you know about how that goes next time, but volley ball in the hot springs is deff on the agenda!

In preparation for this expedition I must say I didn’t get too excited was too busy to think about it really… but after staying awake till 3am making sure all the music I wanted was on my now fixed ipod (that’s another story all together) I am now more tired than ever but there is definitely some anticipation creeping in about the next 3 weeks…. A journey is always exciting I have itchy feet! May the Lord continue to protect and guide us! :)

At 3.00am Mary was getting up just as Sarah was going to bed. Shortly after, Charlie set off in the Landcruiser to get it fixed in Lusaka. To add to the problems with the brakes, Captain H had discovered issues with the bearings too. The rest of us assembled at 8.00am for breakfast and to load the minibus. We put aside the luggage, supplies and equipment for the Landcruiser, which would be loaded on Charlie's return. After one final cup of tea accompanied by the pre-travel briefing for the day, we sent off the motorbikes and then piled into the minibus, leaving Captain H behind to join Charlie in the Landcruiser when it returned from Lusaka. Waving goodbye to Chengelo and with that feeling deep in the stomach that you've fogotten something, we set off on our adventure. Indeed we had. Mary had forgotten her nail polish.

After a mere 90km, the troubles began. We congregated at the first petrol station to make sure all of the vehicles were full before heading onward but as each rider arrived, they did so shaking their heads in disappointment. Rich's Honda had suddenly switched off while heading down a hill but otherwise seemed to be working fine for the moment. More seriously, Dan's BMW was in explicably running very rich. The spark plugs were already black despite having cleaned them and having optimised the carburettor the night before. We reported in to Captain H who assisted with trying to diagnose the issue over the phone but without luck. On calling him for the second time after we had tried the usual suspects, he told us that Charlie had successfully sourced the replacement parts for the Landcruiser in Kabwe and had borrowed another vehicle to make the trip to Lusaka to get the interpol documents, leaving the Landcruiser to be fixed in the meantime. However, while heading down to Kabwe, the rear right bearing had ceased, locking the wheel and sending it veering into the oncoming traffic narrowly missing a head-on collision with a truck. The stop was so abrupt that it had even twisted the crank shaft. Charlie was fine but a little shaken. We spent another 30 minutes trying to fix Dan's bike but to no avail. So, we decided that the group would travel on and Dan would continue trying to fix the bike but would head back to base if unsuccessful following later in the day or the next day if not. And so we journeyed on, continuing Northeast towards Mpika.

Rich stuck in his helmet	On the road	Dan in style
Mike on the BMW	Setting off	No-man's land

At 4.00am we jumped out of bed and hopped straight in the car to start the long trip back to Chengelo, which would be the starting point of our real adventure. Dan started the driving as it was still dark and Anna re-counted her hilarious story of the trials and tribulations of being a 25-year old girl who decides that the only way to succeed is to go back to school, re-joining 13 and 14 year olds. "Imagine your first day", she recalled, "when you get on to the school bus in a school uniform and the conductor isn't sure whether you are just joking. Should he charge you a full fare, or just half for being a pupil?!". The stories continued with the rest of us in tears of laughter, although the occurence of people in their mid-20s returning to school has become much more commonplace since Anna did it in the 1990's.

At day-break Dan and I swapped places and, much to the amusement and potentially nervousness of Mumbi and Anna in the back, I got my first driving lesson in a manual car since I was 18 when I had started learning but never finished the course let alone taken the test. In fact, it was only in April of this year that I got my automatic drivers license in New York. To add to the fun, the main leaf of the rear right suspension was being held together but only a tack-weld and the crank shaft housing wasn't particularly secure afterwards. We had also noticed that the entire chassis had somehow got a little twisted which seemed to make the car bank to the left if left to its own devices as well as causing a nasty vibration at around the 80km/h speed. So, it was going to be an exciting ride... on the left side of the road.

Within an hour I had killed my first chicken. I had successfully avoided goats, pot-holes, and cyclists who decide to change sides of the road without warning, but the chicken was unavoidable. I had tried to swerve but the chicken had followed my line. Dan immediately brought out the camcorder to video my reaction to the event, while I was still looking in the rear-view mirror watching the cloud of feathers disappear into the distance. Yes, I confess, it was a hit-and-run.

The journey continued with few breaks other than to drop-off Anna, to have some lunch, to drop-off Mumbi and to occasionally check the integrity of the car. After a long 700km, Charlie, who had flown down to Kitwe and then joined us on his bike, flagged me down and said that it would be good practice for me to ride his bike the rest of the way. Despite being absolutely exhausted from the driving, we swapped places and I completed the final leg across tarmac and sand back to base without falling over, which was lucky as I'm not sure I would have had the energy to pick he bike up had I fallen.

We arrived home to find a hive of activity preparing for the trip. We greeted Matt, Mike and Rachel, all of whom had arrived during our pre-expedition trip to the Northwest of Zambia. Then we got updated on the three biggest issues: 1) the Landcruiser, despite the work in Mwinilunga, still had no brakes; 2) we didn't have the interpol documentation for taking the vehicles out of the country; and 3) Charlie's bike, the one I had just been riding, was leaking oil furiously (I swear it was not my fault!) and we would not be able to repair it in time, so we were just down to 3 bikes, 1 of which had a seat so high that my feet could barely touch the ground.

As night fell, we met indoors for our first group dinner followed by the first expedition briefing where we talked about safety, job division, and the plan for the following day before heading off to bed. Tomorrow would finally be the start of the great adventure.

Left-hand drive and manual gears. Starting the 700km journey!

Collect Charlie's bike at Solwezi airport

We spent today at the impressive Hydro-electric power station. Dan pointed out where he had lived in a tent for a year and I re-lived all of the hydraulics courses from my engineering degree that I hadn't used since. The Northwest Zambia Development Trust Board met outdoors by the powerhouse for their AGM and I listened in. It was fascinating to hear about the issues of establishing a new business in a remote third world region such as finding qualified workers, managing uprising and disgruntled casual workers, coping with the large barren distances between customers, and the extra safety precautions necessary. Yet on the other side, the passion of individuals to see success and the incredible workmanship that had gone into the construction of the complex. The power station did truly look impressive.

After the day-long meeting, I flew back to Mwinilunga with Charlie in his experimental plane. A 2-seater with tiny wings that reached 300km/h making the journey back less than half-an-hour. After take-off Charlie handed over the controls to me. I found the stunt plane incredibly sensitive to any adjustments to direction and it was an amazingly invigorating ride. We landed just before sunset and drove back through the town to a dinner waiting for us. Dan, having taken the overland route by car, arrived two hours later and we all went to bed ready for the 4.00am start to head back to Chengelo.

Charlie and his plane

Charlie and Sam getting ready for take-off

Collected from the airport at Mwinilunga

We set off this morning to find that not only had we damaged the drive shaft of our 4WD but that we had also broken the main leaf of the suspension with the road conditions being so poor. We limped the car to Ross's house for his mechanic to take a look at it and by the time we had got back to our accommodation, the morning had been lost. Over lunch I listened to the project team discussing how they would present the Hydro project update to Chief Nyakaseya (chief of the Nyakaseya region). Apparently the chief's temperament would be a major part in how the meeting would play out and everyone crossed their fingers that, for once, he wouldn't be drunk. After lunch we headed to His Highness's Palace for the meeting.

We arrived at the Palace and were met by a guard in full uniform. Unlike yesterday, today's meeting began with bowing before entering the Palace grounds as well as kneeling as the Chief approached. In his early 40's, he was wearing a cowboy hat, a white shirt and light trousers that were frayed at the ankles. We all took our seats, tiny uncomfortable stools about 9-inches high, in a row under a tree.

The Chief sat in silence in front of us. The front two legs of his wooden armchair sat on a carpet which resembled a wicker beach mat. He eyed each of us and said nothing. Dan began to introduce the 7 of us: Janice and Charles, a Lunda lady and man both on the Board, Dan himself, Ben the accountant, James the electrician and myself as a sponsor from the UK. At this point, he was joined by one of his two wives who stayed for the remainder of the meeting. The Chief had not yet said a word and we were still assessing whether or not he was drunk or even listening. Dan went on to present the latest brief to a (thankfully) sober chief with the somewhat distracting sound of chickens squawking in the background. The meeting was a fantastic success and the chief was very optimistic about further partnership and offered land titles as part of the development trust work.

On returning back to the Mission, we joined up with a few of the other residents and climbed Kalene Hill for a beer looking over the valley towards Angola and the Congo while watching the sun set.

Chief Nyakaseya with one of his two wives and personal guard

Honestly, did you know pineapples grow on the ground and not in a tree?!

The sunny day in Mwinilunga started with fresh toasted rolls followed by the disassembly of the Landcruiser to replace the front brakes. This is one of the vehicles that will be making its way round East Africa with us so ensuring that it is in tip-top condition was essential. We then packed it with vehicle spare parts and large scale camping cookware before sending it back to Chengelo ready for Monday.

While the Landcruiser headed Southeast, we continued our journey Northwest, past the source of the Zambezi river, almost as far as the border with Angola and the Democratic Republic of Congo. We stopped briefly to withdraw 10 Million Kwacha from the bank and left with a backpack full of notes. The money, about US$20,000, was unfortunately not for beer, but for salaries for the Hydro Project workers as well as a few small capital purchases. Just after midday we arrived at the Kalene Mission, a small mission site with about 8 homes where we would be staying the night with friends of Dan's family. We dropped our bags and immediately headed off to the village of Ikelenge where we did some video interviews of the shopkeepers who were patiently waiting for their shops to be hooked up to the power.

Shortly after was the highlight of the day; a visit to the Palace of the Chiefteness of Ikelenge to provide her with an update on the project. Unfortunately photographs were not permitted. We entered the palace grounds through a small wooden gate, barely hanging from the 6-foot wooden fence. The grounds, the size of a small suburb home garden, were flowerless, mainly bare earth with patches of yellowly grass and in the centre stood a small 1-storey concrete building with a corrugated metal roof. We were led across the garden and into the building by a guard in casual attire. After our eyes had adjusted from the bright midday sun to the darkness inside, we found ourselves in a small room with grey-white walls and dark green sofas along two sides. These were to be our seats and we took our places while we waited for the Chiefteness to enter. Her seat, or throne I suppose, was an unassuming wicker chair on the opposite side of the room, directly below a high window through which the sun shone brightly into the room, lighting up the dust in the air. We sat in nervous silence waiting for the Chiefteness to enter. When she did, she was a lot younger than I expected, probably in her 40s although her skin made her look much younger. She wore a head-scarf, a white native short-sleeve blouse with frills around the neck and arms, and a green patterned chetenge (a traditional style wrap for women). We told her about the project for almost 2 hours, with the help of William as a Lunda interpreter. While the discussions continued, we couldn't help noticing the sign on the wall, "Pease Love but Funky Be Darly", and the collection of Western electronic equipment such as the boom-box stereo covered in dust and still with the large "mega-bass" and "dynamic surround sound" stickers across the front. We left looking at ourselves with a grin upon our faces as the chief said she wanted Dan to "transform Northwest Zambia to be the next London and China".

After the meeting, we took a look at the electricity installations around Ikelenge and interviewed some of the locals on the impact having electricity had had on them. While Dan was inspecting the pylons and transformers, I stayed in the car and chatted with the ever-growing group of children that came to the window. Finally, we went on to Ross and Mel's for dinner, more friends of Dan's family, where Dan sat with Ross and Ben to further discuss the Hydro project and I escaped with their eldest son Tim into the nearby Wildlife Reserve to photograph Zebra as the sun set.

Replacing the front brakes on the Landcruiser

Caterpillars at Ikelenge market for a quick snack anyone?

Beep Beep Beep, is that my alarm, or is that just Sam's annoying watch that goes off through the night? No, unfortunately it is the alarm and it feels like I have only just gone to sleep. The last 2 nights have featured larium-fuelled dreams of fighting mysterious opponents. It's 4.30am and Sam, Ben & I gulp cups of tea and coffee and set off for Mwinilunga, 850km away. The goal is to reach the beautiful sink-hole before sunset for sun-downers (a nice alcoholic drink while watching the sun go down). By 8.15am, we were ahead of schedule and in Kitwe. We anticipated errands taking 30-60 minutes but had allowed 90 in our schedule. 4 hours later, we were still trying to get out of Kitwe although we achieved many tasks, useful shopping and a surprise highlight of Mumbi.

Loaded up with the full Wimpy menu, which Mumbi covered with sugar thinking it was salt, and which Sam hadn't eaten since he was a kid (and tried to make up for!) we set off for Solwezi to meet Charlie, who offered one lucky passenger a lift in his plane. Meanwhiile, amusing conversation ranged from "Hydro accounts" to "accountancy degrees" to "jobs in accounting" ... yawn (only joking Ben). Solwezi arrived in a flash, we met up with Charlie and Ben jumped in the plane with him. We raced against the sun to Mwinilunga and despite travelling at 120km/h swerving potholes, Sam the intrepid photographer was still leaning out of the window trying to get the perfect silhouette of "tree against African sun".

The magic continued when the sun set in front of us, a perfect huge round orange moon rose behind us. This is my Africa.

A well-balanced bike-load

Late last night we put the finishing touches on the route map, although the phase from Uganda crossing into Kenya is still undecided as it depends on the timing of the mountain-biking. Tomorrow, we will leave at 4.00am to drive 12 hours to Mwinilunga, where we will spend 3 days visiting the Zambezi Rapids Hydro-Electric Scheme that Dan worked on in 2005 and 2006. Last year, Dan rode around the world to raise money for the project. And I was thrilled to hear that I could be driving the 800km back to base in a manual 4WD.

In-between getting things ready, we continued the battle of outdoor table-tennis while practising getting the hang of the video recorders, microphones, and video editting software with some short clips (not worthy of publishing here). Dan found that his GBP2.50 microphone from Cairo didn't pick up anything unless it was held almost inside your mouth and that his new Canon FS200 saves files in an annoying .MOD format but at least the picture quality is fairly good. Meanwhile I taught Jay how to use the Canon 5D Mark II to video me practising again on the BMW. Much to his dismay, and the dismay of the local children, I didn't fall today... well, at least not in front of the camera!

To end the day we watched the sun go down with the mist of burning wood hanging low in the African sky followed by Austin Vince's documentary about himself and five others motorbiking around the world in the late 90's for a little inspiration (they were the advisors to Ewan McGregor's subsequent trip).

Sam upright on the bike - a rare sight caught on camera.

It was a pretty big leap (understatement of the year) to go from a 250cc American cruiser in a Bronx car park to a 1000cc BMW GS on sand in the middle of the Zambian outback. Unlike Matt, who doesn't get here until Saturday, I get a few days before the trip to practise handling the bike off-road. After a short briefing from Dan on managing the 250kg beast of a bike in soft sand, as well as how to pick it up off the floor (useful but not really necessary...), I started doing laps of the half-mile track between the school and the house.

Needless to say, the very first sand I encountered sent me straight to the ground. While still down, I flicked the cut-out switch, turned off the fuel and then lay for a peaceful moment of reflection, wondering how many points I would have earned for style, as I spat sand from my mouth. That turned out to be the first fall of many (another understatement), and after 15 minutes of driving back-and-forth on the same road, such was the spectacle, that I had amassed a crowd of young onlookers at each of the sandy corners, almost worthy of a formula one race. Of course, every time I drove past, they would wave to me, encouraging me to raise a hand off the handlebars to wave back. This inevitably led to me tumbling once again amid a roar of children's laughter.

45 minutes later, I called it a day. Word had already made it across the school and back to the house about the new driver who had been seen struggling to pick up a motorbike lying right in the middle of the school entrance. So in order to recover some of my dignity, I set out with my camera to get my own back on the children! See 12 more photos in the gallery.

Climbing a nearby hill and a 1920's comedy team photo with the first 8 to arrive in Zambia. Note the team t-shirts!

At 8.00am precisely, Mumbi knocked at the door. The beautiful young African lady greeted me with a big smile and said we were to go to the airport where Harold and Mary were already waiting for their son, Dan, and grandsons, Perry and Jay, to arrive on the overnight flight from London. Re-tracing the route from the previous night, the road that had been eerily empty was now lined with people walking in single file down the both sides past crates of fruit and vegetables that had been laid out on the ground every few metres. Those not walking were riding sit-up-and-beg bicycles. The flight was delayed. Apparently, after the plane had taxied out to the runway, one of the attendants decided they had the flu and the return to the gate had added an extra two hours onto the journey. From the airport, we then headed off to collect one of the motorbikes but found "the man with the key has gone away". After driving to the man's village, a newly-built collection of single-room concrete and mud structures, his wife told us that 'he is working in the field' at which point we gave up and decided to continue to Chengelo without the bike for now. It was a quiet journey as most of us were either jet-lagged or exhausted from flying. At 1.00pm we arrived at the Chengelo School, Harold and Mary's home, where we relaxed in the garden for the remainder of the afternoon playing croquet and table-tennis interspersed with copious cups of tea.

At just after midnight, I arrived at Lusaka airport to be greeted by my contact, Max. "How very James Bond", I thought. We drove together to the guesthouse where, after a few minutes of horn-honking in front of the large sheet iron gate, the receptionist emerged, looked through the dMax's window across to me and said, "You must be the guest for Room 1". Max and I looked at each other and nodded. "What's wrong with Room 3?", I said and Max laughed. I got to the room to find it was full of boxes of food. My immediate thought was of mice but I was so tired, that I didn't care. As I climbed under the mosquito net, I realized that the food was for our trip, just in time to fall asleep assisted by a sleeping tablet and the hum of the refridgerator. I was happy to have finally arrived after 30 hours of travelling and knew that, as long as the food was here, someone would be coming to collect me in the morning.

I think I'm right in saying that I have the furthest to travel to even get to the start line. Dan is probably a close second arriving from Cairo via London. As I write this, I am sitting in Schipol aiport, Amsterdam, surrounded by tall smiling blonde Dutch flight attendants, and having completed the first of three flights. My next leg takes me to Nairobi where I will transfer to the final leg to Lusaka. It has been an uneventul trip so far, mostly due to the Ambien having knocked me out even before they completed the safety demonstration. So, because of the recent airline industry consolidation, I am now waiting to board my "KLM-Northwest-Alitalia-Delta-Skyteam flight" and I have my fingers crossed that my luggage doesn't get as confused as the check-in staff I left in New York City who seemed to be having a brand-identity crisis. As we are called to board, I have my laptop and Lonely Planet in hand, ready for the 8-hour flight and for the adventure to begin.

In August 2009, the Drifters will set off on an epic journey from Zambia to Kenya and back. This site will keep you up-to-date with the latest adventures and tales of the trip. Be sure to bookmark and check back regularly. And feel free to leave motivational messages for the team.

Images from one of Dan's previous biking adventures...