17 March - Kenyan Introductions

It has been a solid few days of cycling with three 110 kilometer-plus days in a row over the typically challenging Ethiopian terrain. Yesterday was particularly difficult because a 96 km suddenly turned into a 110 km, and also because it was a long straight road that ignored any hills in its path and went directly over them! To make matters worse, there were no towns to speak of. I found myself counting the fourth rise on the horizon and rationing my rests to get to each one. It was mind-numbingly frustrating.

I started off just after seven and spent most of the day cycling on my own and it was awesome to get a little bit of space and personal time. A day of cycling on my own, mulling over my life plans and chatting to random strangers that I met – was divine! In particular, I pulled up at 60 km for a little break in a tiny town. Immediately, three men sitting outside their local bar, beckoned me over for a chat. A half hour later saw a lone female Farangi chatting away to two local policemen, the bar owner and his mate, surrounded by twenty-odd children while they chatted over politics and agriculture over a few beers. Classic! Ok, so I didn’t join them in the beers, but they were great company and made every effort to make sure that I was comfortable, made sure that none of the children got too close to my precious bicycle, and were fascinated about South Africa. It was an awesome experience and I lapped it up for the completely bizarre nature of our interactions. This is Africa!

Yesterday afternoon at 100 kilometers down, a van passed me, pulled over, the door flung open and an English woman hopped out bearing gifts of water! Janet and Chris are a couple from England who are travelling to Cape Town via Scandinavia and the East and then returning to the UK via West Africa. We had a few beers with them last night at the hotel campsite. It was so refreshing to chat to Westerners again! Apart from the Swedes and a few Tour d’Afrique cyclists that we met in Sudan, they are the first overlanders that we have actually had a chat with. I had expected to meet up with so many more people travelling around Africa. This infamous Cape to Cairo highway has turned out to be a fairly untravelled route.

Now, at the border of Kenya, Moyale, we change our last Ethiopian birr for Kenyan Shillings, pass through immigration, and enter the country that I have dreamed of since I was a little girl.

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What a day and world’s apart from the peaceful start forecast by my morning’s musings! I am shattered. Again.

After a fairly tedious border control process we cycled across the border into Kenya. We were greeted with jovial officers with impeccable English and even better banter and flirting! – I even got offered a date. Nice.

In Moyale itself not too much actually happens despite the endless activity: The ATM’s wont spew out cash; You cannot get a cold drink in a café, in fact, you give them cash to go to the shop and buy them for you; and there are endless “guides” that swamp you and latch on and then never leave your side… they are trying to earn a tip for being generally helpful. As we entered the town we had a dozen of these guides on us in seconds, organizing, arranging and hassling. We needed to get a truck en route to Nairobi – we had made an executive decision at the time of the conflict in Kenya that we would err on the side of caution and truck through it. This is disappointing but sensible I think.

I had been recommended Marsabit National park as a must-see and so we decided to break the trip with a visit there. The truck ride was a ridiculous experience on an awful road through a desert. We suffered many casualties: the antiquated landdrover left half its undercarriage splayed across the desert; Grant’s bicycle nearly lost its back wheel and a few cogs in the process; I lost my front brakes and a speedometer; and we all lost a couple of years of our lives flying along in a state-owned vehicle, sitting next to two well-armed officers, considering the ramifications that would result from braking a fraction more suddenly or swerving a split-second later. The driver was clearly in a mad rush. It was a dust-filled five hour experience that was a solid introduction to Kenya.

A good night’s sleep, hearty meal and warm shower out of a bucket, is exactly what the doctor ordered.