2 February - Worlds apart

I wonder what my friends are doing this Saturday evening! I don’t think that many are in bed before 9. Let alone, in a tent in the middle of the Nubian desert alongside a highway… and incredibly comfortable. Sometimes I forget how bizarre my situation is.

This morning started slowly. I heard the movements in the camp, and did my best to pretend I hadn’t. It took a monumental effort to break that quiet zone and start the process of rolling thermarests, folding tents and packing my bicycle. With a general state of lethargy in the camp, we only set off at 9:30. To make matters worse, the first 60 km were directly into a headwind. We were working hard to maintain a speed above 16km/hr. Crazy. My legs are shattered from yesterday and they have declined into a general state of aches and pains. The road was long and flat and into the stark horizon, and it was a battle against the mind. “What on earth am I doing this for?!” But this is exactly why I am doing this. I am pushing my body past any physical limits, and when my body says no more, I am asking my mind to take it further.

We stopped for an extended tea break at Abu Dom – a small town shortly before you leave the Nile to embark on the 320km stretch of tarred road across the desert to Khartoum. Within half an hour we had 50 men standing a meter away from us, watching. To be honest, they were watching me. I had my leg warmers on despite the 30 degree heat, but still felt I was showing way too much skin! Den even had them give me a little round of applause. It is the closest I will ever come to celebrity status, and is not a feeling I wish to repeat. 50 sets of eyes were tracing my every movement. It was like that familiar nightmare of walking into a fancy dress party inappropriately over dressed! Gareth even got a little angry. I have started to ignore it mostly, but it is moments like these that shock me back into where I am and what a different world I come from.

You don’t see many women in Sudan. They float in shades of vibrant colours covered from head to toe, offering tea in quiet tones. There appears to be a line in the sand drawn between groups of men and women. It is difficult to discern what is imposed and what is due to cultural traditions, but the end result is the same with us seldom interacting with men and women simultaneously.

We did 103km today. We have 260km to Khartoum. 2 days of cycling. It will be tough and depends largely on the wind. My legs are pretty battered, but sleep is a wonderful medicine.