In 2009, I joined friends on a month-long expedition to go from travel across Africa by motorbike. The journey took us through Zambia, Tanzania, Burundi, Rwanda, Uganda and Kenya.
Not only was I a novice on motorbikes, having only recently acquired a motorbike driving license but taking large bikes across all manner of terrains certainly pushed my abilities to the max.
On average, I fell every two days, even as the trip went on and my skills improved, mostly because of the hazardous road conditions. Generally they were minor incidents although an obstacle hidden beneath the surface of a silt-covered road did succeed in throwing me over the handlebars.
But my series of smaller incidents were nothing compared to one of the group, who was thrown by a pothole early into the journey. Broken ribs and a punctured lung saw him airlifted to South Africa.
The terrain also took its toll on the bikes and support vehicles. We had countless punctures. Some which left us splitting into groups to seek help from nearby towns, or setting up tents as it became too dangerous to travel further. Each time, we took at as a challenge to beat the previous time.
Nevertheless, the experience was incredible. The people were incredibly friendly. Children would often run alongside the bikes as we passed slowly through smaller villages.