Cape 2 Cairo 2 Cape Blog

What was supposed to be a 7am departure ended up being at 6:25am. Ray already had the IVECO’s and most of the motorcycles lined up outside the hotel ready to rocknroll, while I ran out leaving half of my breakfast behind, sipping on my coffee before handing it to the guard outside, enticing a probable indigestion, and Ule and K trying hastily to do their last minute packing on the bikes. We should know better!

The plan for today: Jinja to the Malaba border of Uganda and Kenya, to Eldoret, to Nakuru (where we ate lunch the last time we passed through Kenya) and a bush camp either before or afterNairobi (about 550kms in total).

As we passed the villages and towns through Uganda, we saw the usual preparations in the making: women and children carrying firewood back to their homes; preparing meals; washing pots and clothes; picking food from the fields.

Back at the Malaba border our passports got stamped and we went through the usual process of changing money. The Kenyan immigrations gave us a little trouble, or should I say gave Ule and I trouble..”Where you coming from?” they asked us? Well, let me see..there is only one border and one country we could actually be coming from, but hey, whatever, we try to keep our cool and answer their questions..as ignorant as they may be! The Kenyan customs also gave the bikers trouble with the carnet. They wanted to charge an entrance fee but we managed to deter their corrupted temptations. The rules seem to change day by day. [Ig was reminiscing when he almost got squashed by the Headhunter while changing a puncture at the Kenyan border during the night during our last crossing]

We were back in Kenya, doing the same road to Eldoret and onto Nakuru, but this time, in the daylight so it all looked quite different and appetizing. We passed hundreds of fields of maize, pastures with cattle, goats and sheep grazing (with lines of trees acting as wind breakers in-between) and seeds laid out on the side of the streets to dry. Kids were running up to the street side from the fields or their homes to wave us by with big smiles (making the connection between the IVECOs and the motorcycles, who passed earlier than us as they see the advertisements on our windows and the broken down KTM at the back of the trailer).

The road was tough for it was the same one we had taken before with huge trenches and deviations due to construction. After passing the usual (bicycles loaded with gallons of water; firewood; sugarcane; passengers and food; bora bora’s and trucks), we stopped at Eldoret to fill up with petrol and fix a puncture on the Silverback. [Meanwhile, the motorcycles were forced to stop due to the hail storming down on them. Archie, being the Dare Devil that he is kept going until the bikers stopped on their own accord. Sliding across the road, they found shelter under a tree..with lightening in the distance may I add! Needles to say it was a cold and wet ride for the motorcycle riders; desperately trying to dry their socks whenever the rain stopped]

110kms from Nakuru, it started raining with muddy rivers forming on the side of the road, water gushing out from the pastures and eroded fields. The rain was on and off all day long. We passed the Equator for the 5^th time. There were stands on either side of the road selling an array of vegetables and fruits: peas, cabbage, nuts, potatoes, bananas and maize. Most of the locals were equipped for the rain and cooler weather; wearing their gum boots and colourful Masai blankets, wrapped around their shoulders. The stunning sight of the Rift Valley andLakeNakuru were on our right as well pulled into the Total garage.

We met up with the motorcycle riders, who had already started eating their chicken and fries. They left earlier then us to buy groceries for the anticipated bush camp. It started raining again with the sun trying to shine through the overcast sky.

The Elimtaita and Naivasha Lakeswere on our right with gazelles and zebras grazing on the savannah on either side of the road..a spectacular sight which started to remind us of South Africa more and more..Africa as most of us know it. The road to Nairobi was beautiful with fever trees overlooking the road [once believed to have caused fever/malaria/tsetse fly fever by the Voortrekkers back in 1904; the trek to Eldoret after the Boer War].

The traffic became hectic 100kms into Nairobi. The forest on either side with what looked like freshly cut and planted lawn on the ground was b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l. We regrouped with the motorcycle riders 20kms out of Nairobion the side of the highway (some had gone ahead so Archie went to stop them and inform them of the plan). Sakkie as always was a sensation with the locals, crowding around us as we were stopped.

Once altogether again, we turned off the highway at Kikuyu to avoid the town centre of Nairobi and its hectic construction and rush hour traffic. The bikers were cold and needed to warm up and because it was getting dark (as we had consented days before to avoid riding in the dark), we started to look for a place to stay. We arrived at the Karen Country Lodge, a luxurious English style country lodge situated in an upper class neighbourhood of Kikuyu. Ray managed to talk to the Director, James G. Karuga, who quickly and kindly offered us to camp out (last minute) in his conference room for the night.

We were wonderfully and generously welcomed by James and his staff and offered great service. The meal was absolutely delicious, sitting under a lit tent with beautiful exotic décor, overlooking English style cut gardens. If you are looking to visit Kenya and want to stay in a beautiful, luxurious setting with excellent service, pick the Karen Country Lodge. Mr. Karuga and his staff will show you great hospitality. [Karen was the Danish Countess who came to Kenya whom the ‘Out of Africa’ film was based on. It was incredible to make that connection].

After drinks and a marvellous meal, we all set up camp in the Conference room (summer camp style) and succumbed to a well-deserved rest. BRILLIANT!

[Happy Birthday Mummy (Sylvia Chvatal)]

Personal Expressions/Sayings from each of the group members:

-         Jacques: Jesus loves me that I know

-         Brian: Changing gears

-         Ule: Sensical (meaning logical)

-         Kenny: Middle Management (promoted himself)

-         Garth: The interesting thing is…What’s interesting is…

-         Ig: Aaarg but..it was good fun; Aarg well..

-         Ray: Can you believe it; locknload; rocknroll; Wow wow; But you know what…

-         Marlene: Red wine please

-         K: I’m fine; it’s fine; Another bad day in Africa (calm and collected, sarcastic of course)

-         Sakkie: Beer (with the Afrikaaner accent of course); Marsabit se moer

-         Andre: Stand here…click, click, click

-         Ande: Aarg it’s great hey; Did you come here to die? No, I came here yesterdie

-         Archie: Strong like a lion

-        Jessica: I don’t know; it’s b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l

Our stay at Kongoni Lodge was fantastic … great accommodation and the best cuisine in ages. Sadly we were all too tired to bogey with the 60’s / 70’s vibes.
Departed at 07h00 only to discover that “Silverback” had a leaking fuel pipe. Using everyone’s expertise and 2 hrs we got it done. On to the Kenya-Uganda border.
Crossed the equator several times. Eldoret was an interesting city to pass by 2400 asl
Never saw the riders the entire day
At dinner the riders proudly announced that they want to maintain the record they had on the Moyale – Marsabit Road i.e. not ONE puncture.

WASUP?

Arch clipped the front left panel of “Silverback” – when he passed close to a truck at the border.

SONDER GRENSE:

At 17h25 we were 120 km from the Kenya-Uganda border and we needed to confirm the closing time of the border. We were under the impression that it closed at 18h00 – which meant that the riders were way ahead of us and we would have to find accommodation.

We saw the value of technology:
• Text messages to the riders “What time does the border close?”
• Truck driver at garage told us border closed at 18h30
• Policeman told us the border never closes
• Call Jo’burg – Marlene’s friend is a internet addict – with Troy’s help we ascertained that the border closed at 22h30
Got through the border – quite painless … yippee we were in Uganda – 8km to The Rock Classic Hotel in Tororo … Jinja would have be for another day.

BIZNET:

While passing through the border we by-passed the 8.3 km of trucks carrying cargo
• If each truck is 20m long
• Carrying €100 000 = €41 mil
• Interest @ 10% = € 11 000 per day
• PLUS attrition on vehicles (40 x start ups)
So for the mathematically inclined – some maths for you to do.’

Hotel was great

Jacques Impressions of the trip to date:
Best:
This experience and opportunity has been great. The trip is much easier with a smaller group. I love the internal ‘emotional’ moments. I realise that Radisson is as good as it’s going to get. Dongolas chicken was my best. “I’m in heaven”. Breakfast at Kangoli was worth a mention.
Bad:                                                                                                                                                                                 Heat on Cairo. We need to appreciate what we have at home.
Packing: I packed too much – I realised that I can wear the same outfit for 4 days!
I should have brought more facial cream – I am starting to look like Jackson.
My highlight I definitely the gorillas.
My worst day was that day of punctures on the Moyale – < Marsabit Road. Luckily we had James and Ig there.
Favourite song “Queen “Mama I killed a man”
Enjoying the company of the ladies on the trip.

5am wake up, the sun already rising in the horizon, which was very unusual (especially without Kenny or Ray’s early wake up calls in the early, early morning hours of the morning), but welcomed to say the least. Everyone still felt broken from the day and night before. It was, literally, a day from hell. Although I thoroughly enjoyed it, it had been a very tough day for all of us.

On behalf of the entire group, CONGRATULATIONS to Kenny and Marlene. Who knows what this road from hell has done to Kenny, but he finally got the courage to propose to Marlene that morning, bright and early as the sun came up. It was an ideal place; a last minute campsite chosen by the riders who could not go on anymore the night before (except for Donatelo of course, the ninja turtle). They couldn’t even make the 8 to 10 kms to the much anticipated tar road. It was truly a place of mixed emotions; a place we will never forget. Good luck to you both. You are amazing individuals as it is and combined, you just shine that much more. We are so happy for you.

Feeling a bit energized after Jacques’ wonderful cappuccino and tea, combined with Ig’s Oma Doreen’s homemade bran rusks, we were locknloaded and ready to rocknroll from our last minute campsite by 6:30am.

After another 8 to 10 kms on the corrugated dirt road to Marsabit, we were blessed by the sight of the smooth tar road (thank you to the Chinese!). The motorcycle riders, overjoyed, got off their bikes, kneeled down and kissed the tar. While the motorcycle riders and IVECO passengers took pictures of this joyous and comforting occasion, the crew replaced the puncture of the Silverback (I have to say, I have become quite skilled at lowering and uploading tyres from up above on the roof of the trucks, as well as strapping them in thereafter. We could all definitely qualify for a job at Ferrari by now. No seriously, we have become quite efficient and quick at replacing tyres, as Ig says).

Continuing on to Marsabit, we had the Losai National Reserve on our left. As we drove along, the barren land became greener, raising our spirits that much more. We were filthy, having worn the same clothes for 3 straight nights and four days. Luckily, the layers of sand and filth on us acts as sunblock, so no need for it (you cannot even imagine how dirty our wet wipes are every time we use them..which is often).

We passed villages after villages, seeing women wearing beautiful coloured jewellery around their necks, kids running up to the side of the road waving us down for money or just to say hello. After passing the Samburu National Reserve, we reached Isiolo where we had the tyres fixed and filled up with petrol. Of course, a crowd gathered around us, welcoming us, asking us for money, trying to sell their handiwork and curious about our trucks and bikes.

At this point, the bikers had already left for Nanyuki (apparently the riders had to apprehend Brian, who ventured his own way and was adamant about stopping at a restaurant he found on the way, wanting to eat NOW and right at this minute). It was 113 kms more to Nanyuki and by that time, we were starving and feeling drained. The Silverback, surprise surprise, had another flat tyre on the way. We stopped to replace the tyre at the Equator Market where I managed to buy myself a bracelet, to replace the one I broke during our many trials and tribulations. We also realized that the tow bar of the trailer was coming loose and the bolts had come off. We needed to eat so we decided to move on…

..up the road to our destination, Barney’s Nanyuki airstrip, where we were told we’d have the best meal and especially a yummy cappuccino. They were right. We chowed our food so quickly (delicious burgers, eggs & bacon, fish & chips and the list goes on), trying our best to fill our stomachs with as much food as possible; fitting it where possible. Starving most days, our stomachs have shrunk to half the size. The Nanyuki airstrip is owned by a South African. It is a beautiful and well groomed airstrip with a yard, proper bathrooms (with toilet paper), a wooden deck and amazing food.

The riders, having finished eating before us, left for the Kongoni Hotel. It was decided that we would stay in Nanyuki for the night for everyone deserved a good night sleep. Everyone readily agreed with the plan and was definitely looking forward to some R&R and a proper bed. After replacing the tyre and fixing the tow bar of the trailer, we reached the Kongoni Hotel. Just before we could unload our bags, the Headhunter got stuck in the mud, so we had to take the trailer off and push the truck out of its predicament. Ig went to get the last tyres fixed and everyone took a shower; a much needed shower.

Tonight at Kongoni is a 70s/80s dance party. I truly hope some of us can make it, but everyone is having trouble staying awake. I bid you good night.

[Note: we may not be able to upload our blogs again for another couple of days. We head to Uganda tomorrow and will be having a leisure day there the next day. Please be patient, think of us and thank you for tuning in on our adventures]

Wake-up call 04h30. Breakfast 05h15 … rusks and coffee.
Pack up camp.

What a day!

Volcanic rock, sand and fech-fech (soft sand 30cms deep 100% powder). Through the Kaisunt Desert

• ‘Headhunter’ bullbar totally off the front – so we removed and put it on the roof rack
• Trailer tyre absolutely shredded and the spring broken – had to replace – that took 2 hrs! The lock for the tyre was jammed so James had to use 2 screw drivers to get the lock off. All the while a herd of camels moved past.
• Puncture on back wheel – a rock got stuck between the two tyres (1 hr)
• Another puncture and Another puncture and Another puncture
• Flat – 1 hour

James and Ig were champions = us ladies learnt a lot about mechanics and vehicle maintenance and at the same time – we got a great tan.

Arrived at Marsabit at 16h00 10.5 hrs to do 125 kms. Ray bought us slap chips which we are=the in the garage workshop. James rated the toilets as a -5! Got all the tyres fixed.

Back on the road – we knew that we had 130 kms to do on a road that was relentless and punishing. We had had 6 tyre issues en route and for this reason we stopped every 20kms to check every part of Headhunter: tyres, body parts, trailer.

James’s bike was slowly disintegrating – the panniers got holes in them from the foot pedals, [arts and nuts and bolts were falling off – the bike was just becoming a frame ...

Marsabit to a desolate place – 17h00 – 00h00: 7 hrs to do 125 kms. And to add to our frustration we had several more punctures to deal with.

It was the silhouette on the right hand side of the road that told us where the bikers were. We had not seen them since we had left camp in the morning. Ray and “Silverback” had driven right past the riders at 23h30 – Brian had tried to flag them down – to no avail.

The riders had all had at least one fall. Andy was only rider to stay upright.

Sakkie went right over his handlebars

Brian was the first to fall and Ken went to his aid ... but had to delay because he was in fits of laughter.

K had his fuel filter fail on him and the guy did a job on the side o f the road – in 1.5 hrs they did a 4 hr job.

Ullie twisted his ankle as he fell off the bike. He is fine ... not to worry about.

What a great group of champion riders

The riders chose a really rocky place to set p camp. Also had us situated 25kms from the place where the Cape to Cairo group had a bad experience with theft of passports and satellite phones ... Jackie and Rolf landed up costing $4000 and had to pay R20 000 to get back their carnets
and passports – so there we were in the middle of nowhere – 8km form a tar road ... too tired to put up tents ... 2 rows of exhausted people ... all we needed was sleep.

We had not had a proper meal for 3 days – we wore the same clothes for three days ... and it was only Jacques singing of “Jesus loves me” that kept us going

Sleep tight and we dream of smooth roads, good food and a hot shower.

This was a test of the mind a test of the soul and most of all a test of our determination. We all agreed that no-one can tell us about a LONG or a HARD road – we have done it

Military style and well tamed by Ray our commando; the group was already up at 4:30am, dismantling their tents, packing their sleeping bags and loading the Silverback and Head Hunter (IVECO trucks) ready for departure towards the Moyale border post (200kms). The sun was rising as we were packing up from what was an amazing bush camp experience; making for a beautiful scenery..a desolate land (brown, orange and chalk coloured sand) with scattered thorn trees

Locknloaded, we were ready to Rocknroll at 5:30am. Unfortunately, Brian had the gippos and hadn’t slept much all night. As Garth assisted him with his tent, Andre fixed his broken glasses. With a delicious cup of cappuccino, prepared by Jacques, with love and tenderness, we were back on the road.

We arrived at Moyale, parked and waited at customs for our passports to be stamped; which obviously always takes a while. While we were waiting, Marlene and Alta were dreaming of breakfast (Muck & Been is more like it), James and Ule were having their shoes cleaned and Brian was trying to catch up on some much needed sleep. Shame, he was really looking pale and feverish..not doing well at all. Of course, we waited outside the office patiently, careful not to frustrate the officer in charge who didn’t want us in his office and ordered only two at a time when ready to stamp our passports.

Once everyone’s passports had been stamped and the motorcycle riders had their carnets authorized, we crossed the border intoKenya[Note: It was the first border post office that had an updated 2011 calendar on the wall. The other border posts we came across, including the one we had just checked out from, have 2004 – 2006 calendars; and yet owners of brand new, quality computers!] We were greeted by the Kenyan authorities with huge smiles. Our passports were stamped and carnets authorized within half an hour..brilliant compared to the other borders.

While the motorcycle riders bought black market petrol (in the absence of a normal petrol station), the others filled up the IVECO Silverback and Headhunter with diesel, fixed what needed fixing and Garth and I left with the garage owner to the bank in a taxi (just one street over it turned out and which I was tricked into paying thereof) to change our dollars and birrs into shillings [$1 = 88 Shillings]. After what seemed like two hours, we were back on the road and trying to catch up with the motorcycle riders.

Unfortunately, but yet a definite part of the adventure, we had a flat tyre with the IVECO Silverback one km away from the border post. Ray left with some locals passing through to get the tyre fixed (back at the border post) while the rest of us fitted the spare tyre and waited. While the tyre was being fitted and while we were waiting for Ray to come back, a crowd of children and adults gathered around us..standing for a good hour and a half as they do, staring at our every move. I started playing with the children (catch me if you can) and then Jacques came out with his big guns..he took out the fake snake and scary masks and gave an unforgettable fright to all the kids circling us on the side of the dirt road. To pass the time, Jacques continued entertaining the village kids and us in the interim, with singing, alphabet and number counting lessons.

We went from the lust highlands and beautifully worked agricultural paddies ofEthiopiato what reminded me of the SA Northern Province bushveld, and on to a dry, desolate and eroded Kenyan desert, consisting of tall, tube-like shaped termite hills and scattered thorn bushes. We could spot little Dik Diks as well as the usual donkeys, camels, sheep and goats. There were very few villages and those villagers who suddenly popped out of the desert and brush..you could only wonder what they were doing there and why they would choose to live in such a dry, sandy, thorny and barren land. Nevertheless, the landscape was breathtaking in its own way, with shades of orange, brown and white chalk coloured sand.

The Moyale to Marsabit road was indeed a tough one to say the least. Ray had warned us about it, but neither the motorcycle riders nor us on board of the IVECO’s could have ever imagined such an intense ride. The dirt road was heavily corrugated, with gravel at times, potholes, huge rocks and fish-fish (soft, deep sand). We drove approximately 19 hours, shaking, rattling but definitely no rolling! We were so hungry but fortunately Marlene and Alta provided us with the little bit of crackers and sweets they had on them. This long, endless road was definitely testing us, psychologically and physically.

    Within the first 40kms from the border post: all aboard the Headhunter were hard at work, especially Archie, Garth and Ray (What would we ever have done without Archie, I simply don’t know: our handyman, mechanic and all-around saviour):

           – Headhunter: Front right bumper and bracket fell off (we tied it with a rope to the side mirror to keep it in place)

           - Headhunter: Lost a jerry can bracket from the trailer which ended up damaging the spring and shifting the left tyre of the trailer

          – James’ poor motorcycle was taking a beating on the back of the trailer, slowing falling apart, bit by bit..much to James’ demise but staying cheerful nevertheless.

          – Silverback: Had its second punctured tyre

    Apart from physical and mental exhaustion, the motorcycle riders were also having problems of their own:

          - Two of the bikes would not start: either due to the black market petrol or the fuel pump. Even after draining the petrol from one of the bikes, it wasn’t certain that it was as a result of the black market petrol.

         - The KTM’s frame had shifted and the bolts had broken off. While the crew managed to fix the frame and add new bolts, it still wouldn’t start up again. The KTM was loaded into the IVECO Silverback and joined the sidelines with James’ motorcycle. Ig joined the passengers on the Headhunter.

         - Five minutes later, after having loaded the KTM into the Silverback, Kenny takes a fall in the sand. His pannier box was a bit bent, but otherwise, he was up with a smile (as always), throwing out jokes and getting back onto his bike to join his comrades.

         - Fifteen minutes later, the bikes had to stop because their shocks were cooking.

Despite these trials and tribulations, combined with the sand whipping at us and the dryness in the air, we were making good time. We were a little under half way to Marsabit when the sun was setting over the distant mountains. It became clear that we would never make it to Marsabit. It was already dark when we pulled into a very, very small village..at Guyo Isacko’s Small World Centre. Guyo Isacko was the MAN (guyoisacko@yahoo.com, P.O. BOX 305 Marsabit,Kenya). We were so tired and so thirsty..setting up camp in the dark. He organized us soap, candles, rooms, lights, chairs, tables, beers, pepsis and water bottles. Even though the beers and pepsis were warm, we all welcomed the drinks, sipping away as if we hadn’t drunk in days.

Before everyone called it a night, Brian, James and Ande worked on Brian’s bike and got it to start again (he had gotten four locals to push him into the Small World Centre motel, after his bike wouldn’t start again). Very few of us had the energy to put up tents (Kenny & Marlene and Sakkie & Alta), while others shared a room, others slept on their mats and in their sleeping bags on the flat, sandy ground encircled by the trucks, and yet others on top and inside of the Silverback truck. Our “camp” site consisted of a chicken coop, tin toilets, wind breaker brushes and small motel rooms in the middle of a barren village.

Much to the demise of some, it was a rough night as what sounded like Native American drum beats dominated the early morning hours. It was a cool night with a strong chilled breeze. After the drum beats ended, around 3am, we just had another two hours until we’d have to lock’n’load once again. The road from hell..Marsabit road awaited us!