Entering Sudan, we finally hit some off-road sections. Egyptian tarmac made my full suspension bike completely obsolete and I had doubts appear in my mind regarding my bike choice. Now, though, I am in my element, cruising through bumpy sections where others are struggling for control over their bike and floating over sand where cyclocross bikes with thinner tyres sink. Roads in Africa are being paved at a dizzying pace, leaving fewer stages off-road than ever before. Therefore, I decide to exploit my current advantage on the third day in Sudan and push beyond my so far maintained level of sustainable effort (due to the lack of recovery time, riding sustainable is a crucial aspect of the tour) and challenge the leading group of racers (they are GOOD!!).
ED’S FIRST STAGE WIN
The day begins with a typical chaotic morning, everybody frantically trying to stuff their belongings into their red box, eat breakfast and get the gear ready before sunrise. I am the last rider out of camp and shortly behind Jos, Bernd and Bent, our number 1, 2 and 4 respectively in the current rankings. I carefully select a brisk but yet reasonable pace, so that at lunch only a few riders remain between me and the finish line. Refilling my bottle and quickly grabbing filled pita breads to keep me nourished for the remaining 50km of heavy off-road, I realize 2 racers already left lunch…s**t!! I jump on my bike and start pedalling...way too fast. My legs are filling with lactic acid and I would blow up at this pace before finish. Soon after, Jos overtakes me. His rigid cyclocross take a beating on the bumpy stuff, but he is an incredibly strong rider. Pushing harder would be foolish and all there is for me to do is focus on selecting the best possible path.
However, the desert is full of surprises. The terrain is a mixture of large rocks and bumps (my full suspension loves these), a lot of washboard (waves of little bumps with little distance in-between; you do NOT want to ride on these…painful!) and even more sand (depending on depth either difficult or impossible to ride). These features are changing constantly and it is very difficult to anticipate the rideability of the path lying ahead. Add to this the countless number of different paths scattering in multiple directions and the often better choice of leaving the paths altogether, racing becomes a fair bit of chance. So it is by chance that I get stuck in a patch of deep sand. Looking at my far right, I see Jos and Bernd equally stuck in deep sand. All three desperately try to reach solid ground, get on the bike, fall over in the deep sand, get up, walk 10m and try all over. I get riding first, which puts me back in the race. It is chance again that, after a seemingly good path has turned awry and led me far off course into the desert and out of sight of the Nile, Jos follows my tracks taking him equally off course. By this time Bernd is struggling with knee problems and the winner of the day seems to be Jos or me. A final sprint to the finish line and comparison of our times reveals: I have earned my first stage win!
THE PEOPLE WE ENCOUNTER
Experiencing the people on the way is probably one of the most significant aspects of the Tour d’Afrique, and so it is important to be aware of how we are perceived by locals. Consider this: We cycle through some of the poorest areas on earth. A child standing on the side of the road witnesses a colourful spandex clad rider on a bike with an obscene price tag. The kid runs along and shouts in excitement “stop, stop…please stop”. The strange rider passes at high speed with maybe a nod or wave as sign of recognition…nothing more. Once 59 riders have passed in this fashion, nobody granting the child as much as 1 minute of their time, the child’s frustration takes shape in a rock hitting the unfortunate 60th rider.
Most locals greet us heart-warmingly. Unlike in Egypt, asking for money seems to be taboo in Sudan. Instead, the occasional child asks for a pen or a short ride on our bikes. The Sudanese are some of the friendliest people I have met and I try to do my best to acknowledge their gestures of hospitality. However, cycling through a single village I have a farmer offering me sugar cane, an old man inviting me into a mosque and a little boy holding a piece of cheese out to me. We pass hundreds of people each stage. Even on a non-race day, it is impossible to stop for every one asking us to. This is a predicament that every rider will have to deal with, even if the outcome is sometimes painful.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
23rd January 2008 - Wadi Halfa, Sudan
Our days in Egypt have passed and we are leaving with almost exactly 1000km of Egyptian roads cycled. We are now entering a new country: Sudan.
Sudan is of particular importance for several reasons. Personally, one of my best friends is from Khartoum (the capital). In hour long conversations I have listened to him telling about his home country, creating a sense of familiarity without having ever been there. More generally, Sudan is the “longest” country of the TdA with ca. 3 weeks to be spent there. The border crossing was experience definitely worth mentioning. We departed from our Aswan camp and cycled past the Aswan low dam (impressive: lake on the left, little trickle feeding the lower Nile on the right) and Aswan high dam (even more impressive). Unfortunately, these are considered military institutions and taking pictures is strictly forbidden. Boarding the ferry was quicker than expected. We were all set by noon and departure was scheduled at 16.00. In the following hours, in what was complete chaos in our eyes, boxes, suitcases, carpets, printers and any other imaginable item (apart from alcohol) was lodged onto the ship. One pickup truck after the other arrived, each one loaded to triple its height. Stairs and passages became narrow aisles amidst the cargo and eventually disappeared altogether, requiring passengers to (literally) climb over various items in order to pass.
Due to the crammed and chaotic conditions, our guide books strongly recommend taking a private cabin and for this reason the Tour d’Afrique booked all available rooms on the ship. These were 25 in total, accommodating 50 people in total. Unfortunately, there are 62 people participating in the TdA and space was allocated according to age (NOT beginning with the youngest). Bad luck for me, as I was left sleeping on deck. By 20.30 I was asleep, while the cargo was still being loaded (remember scheduled departure: 16.00).
The first couple of km to camp in Sudan, it became apparent that road slicks are not suited for the sands of the Nubain desert (who would have thought).
Sudan is of particular importance for several reasons. Personally, one of my best friends is from Khartoum (the capital). In hour long conversations I have listened to him telling about his home country, creating a sense of familiarity without having ever been there. More generally, Sudan is the “longest” country of the TdA with ca. 3 weeks to be spent there. The border crossing was experience definitely worth mentioning. We departed from our Aswan camp and cycled past the Aswan low dam (impressive: lake on the left, little trickle feeding the lower Nile on the right) and Aswan high dam (even more impressive). Unfortunately, these are considered military institutions and taking pictures is strictly forbidden. Boarding the ferry was quicker than expected. We were all set by noon and departure was scheduled at 16.00. In the following hours, in what was complete chaos in our eyes, boxes, suitcases, carpets, printers and any other imaginable item (apart from alcohol) was lodged onto the ship. One pickup truck after the other arrived, each one loaded to triple its height. Stairs and passages became narrow aisles amidst the cargo and eventually disappeared altogether, requiring passengers to (literally) climb over various items in order to pass.
Due to the crammed and chaotic conditions, our guide books strongly recommend taking a private cabin and for this reason the Tour d’Afrique booked all available rooms on the ship. These were 25 in total, accommodating 50 people in total. Unfortunately, there are 62 people participating in the TdA and space was allocated according to age (NOT beginning with the youngest). Bad luck for me, as I was left sleeping on deck. By 20.30 I was asleep, while the cargo was still being loaded (remember scheduled departure: 16.00).
The first couple of km to camp in Sudan, it became apparent that road slicks are not suited for the sands of the Nubain desert (who would have thought).
19th January 2008 - Aswan
With all its downsides, Egypt and its people impress me. While there are black sheep, most people are so welcoming and good-hearted, that we often spend hours of our stages along the Nile, waving and trying to acknowledge the countless greetings we receive. The most memorable encounters usually happen by chance. Such as a late night stroll in Edfu between Luxor and Aswan, which had us end up attending a Koptic Christian mass. The majority of Egypt is Moslem, but a small minority of roughly 9% are Koptic Christian. These used to belong to the Orthodox Christian Church, but separated to form a separate entity.
I hugely appreciate my privilege to discover Egypt by bike. This allows me to experience remote villages, where people seem to be at their most welcoming and sincere. Today, on my way out of Edfu, I foolishly ran out of water halfway through the stage. The average Egyptian does not indulge in the luxury of drinking bottled water and the tiny village shop I stopped at did not stock any for this reason. Yet, multiple people scrambled instantly to arrange bottled water for me, I was charged less than half the price paid in Luxor and my tip as token of my gratitude was rejected with a kind smile. They were did not try to profiteer from foreigners, but where enlightened to meet me and sincerely tried to help.
Tomorrow we will board the ferry to cross Lake Nasr to the Sudanese town Wadi Halfa. The Lake is the product of the Aswan high dam, which was built in the 70s with Soviet funding. Whilst enabling Egypt to regulate water for agriculture and avoid severe draughts, it also changed the Egyptian landscape and drowned huge amounts of Nubian heritage. The extremely fertile Nile clay was blocked by the dam and farmers resorted to employing artificial fertilizers, which later posed severe health problems. Paradoxically, much of the gained hydroelectric energy has to be used for the production of these artificial fertilizers.
Aswan is one of the driest inhabited places on earth. The day we arrive the first drops of rain start falling.
I hugely appreciate my privilege to discover Egypt by bike. This allows me to experience remote villages, where people seem to be at their most welcoming and sincere. Today, on my way out of Edfu, I foolishly ran out of water halfway through the stage. The average Egyptian does not indulge in the luxury of drinking bottled water and the tiny village shop I stopped at did not stock any for this reason. Yet, multiple people scrambled instantly to arrange bottled water for me, I was charged less than half the price paid in Luxor and my tip as token of my gratitude was rejected with a kind smile. They were did not try to profiteer from foreigners, but where enlightened to meet me and sincerely tried to help.
Tomorrow we will board the ferry to cross Lake Nasr to the Sudanese town Wadi Halfa. The Lake is the product of the Aswan high dam, which was built in the 70s with Soviet funding. Whilst enabling Egypt to regulate water for agriculture and avoid severe draughts, it also changed the Egyptian landscape and drowned huge amounts of Nubian heritage. The extremely fertile Nile clay was blocked by the dam and farmers resorted to employing artificial fertilizers, which later posed severe health problems. Paradoxically, much of the gained hydroelectric energy has to be used for the production of these artificial fertilizers.
Aswan is one of the driest inhabited places on earth. The day we arrive the first drops of rain start falling.
17th January 2008 - Luxor
The past couple of days have really given me a glimpse into what the next four months will entail.
We went from our start in Cairo via various desert camps and then alongside the beautiful Red Sea through the towns. Riding our second stage set at 170km, the winds shifted in our favour and pushed out average speeds up beyond 30km/h. Hitting the Red Sea made for some picturesque scenery as we were cruising along the coast on what signs called “dangerous curves”. As we head further south, days become slightly warmer, yet nights remain bitter cold at as little as 1 degree Celsius. The strong winds, usually our friends during the day, let us freeze down to our bones and drive the sand into everything and everywhere.
Africa requires making do with little often and improvising most of the time. Within a few days I am already used to having no more than a bottle of water for daily washing, sleeping on camping grounds littered with faeces (I hope this is a solely Egyptian occurrence) and being completely cut off the outer world for lengthy periods of times. Therefore, reaching Safaga, our last camp on the Red Sea before heading land inwards towards the Nile, was pure splendour and luxury for us. A wonderful clean camping site right on a beach, warm showers and a barbecue seemed to be everything one could ask for. The following day we crossed the mountains on Egypt’s East and stopped short of Quena…fairly uneventful. Quite the contrary can be said of our ride from Quena to Luxor, supposedly the biggest open air museum on earth. Coming from the desert, the scenery changed from sand and rocks to an abundance of fields and palm trees in the richest shades of green imaginable. It becomes apparent to what extent the Nile is Egypt’s lifeblood. Seeing this stark contrast within a few metres distance is simply breathtaking, as is the attention we get from the locals. The streets along the Nile are buzzing with life and a large proportion of this life responds in some way or the other to our presence. On the one hand there are hundreds of children (literally) shouting “hello” or “welcome to Egypt” while smiling, waving and trying to shake our hands. On the other hand, some children take no shame in commanding outright “money, money, money”, often holding out their open hand and gesturing “give me”. On sporadic occasions stones are thrown (badly aimed) or sugar canes swung at us.
This being my first visit to Luxor, I couldn’t but participate in a tour to Luxor’s West Bank (Theben), viewing the spectacular tombs in the valley of the kings and valley of the queens and admiring the beautiful 3-terrace-temple of Hatsheput. The latter is the sight of the 1997 Luxor massacre, in which gunmen entered the temple and executed virtually anyone present. In fact, this event plunged Egypt’s tourism industry into a crippling crisis and can be considered as primary reason for the ridiculously excessive presence of military and police, which any traveller will encounter in Egypt. For example, the Tour d’Afrique’s journey through Egypt is constantly accompanied by armed police and/or military. Even fire-fighters are present at some camp sites (we still have to figure out their purpose at camp).
We went from our start in Cairo via various desert camps and then alongside the beautiful Red Sea through the towns. Riding our second stage set at 170km, the winds shifted in our favour and pushed out average speeds up beyond 30km/h. Hitting the Red Sea made for some picturesque scenery as we were cruising along the coast on what signs called “dangerous curves”. As we head further south, days become slightly warmer, yet nights remain bitter cold at as little as 1 degree Celsius. The strong winds, usually our friends during the day, let us freeze down to our bones and drive the sand into everything and everywhere.
Africa requires making do with little often and improvising most of the time. Within a few days I am already used to having no more than a bottle of water for daily washing, sleeping on camping grounds littered with faeces (I hope this is a solely Egyptian occurrence) and being completely cut off the outer world for lengthy periods of times. Therefore, reaching Safaga, our last camp on the Red Sea before heading land inwards towards the Nile, was pure splendour and luxury for us. A wonderful clean camping site right on a beach, warm showers and a barbecue seemed to be everything one could ask for. The following day we crossed the mountains on Egypt’s East and stopped short of Quena…fairly uneventful. Quite the contrary can be said of our ride from Quena to Luxor, supposedly the biggest open air museum on earth. Coming from the desert, the scenery changed from sand and rocks to an abundance of fields and palm trees in the richest shades of green imaginable. It becomes apparent to what extent the Nile is Egypt’s lifeblood. Seeing this stark contrast within a few metres distance is simply breathtaking, as is the attention we get from the locals. The streets along the Nile are buzzing with life and a large proportion of this life responds in some way or the other to our presence. On the one hand there are hundreds of children (literally) shouting “hello” or “welcome to Egypt” while smiling, waving and trying to shake our hands. On the other hand, some children take no shame in commanding outright “money, money, money”, often holding out their open hand and gesturing “give me”. On sporadic occasions stones are thrown (badly aimed) or sugar canes swung at us.
This being my first visit to Luxor, I couldn’t but participate in a tour to Luxor’s West Bank (Theben), viewing the spectacular tombs in the valley of the kings and valley of the queens and admiring the beautiful 3-terrace-temple of Hatsheput. The latter is the sight of the 1997 Luxor massacre, in which gunmen entered the temple and executed virtually anyone present. In fact, this event plunged Egypt’s tourism industry into a crippling crisis and can be considered as primary reason for the ridiculously excessive presence of military and police, which any traveller will encounter in Egypt. For example, the Tour d’Afrique’s journey through Egypt is constantly accompanied by armed police and/or military. Even fire-fighters are present at some camp sites (we still have to figure out their purpose at camp).
The Adventure Begins
Boarding my plane to Cairo, I just relax. Finally, a moment to take a deep breath and contemplate what is lying ahead of me. The past few days have been chaotic, to say the least, with me trying to orchestrate training, preparation (visa, equipment, insurance etc.) and getting the fundraising going. With the date of departure approaching quickly, successful completion seemed doomed at times. Consider my carefully selected camping mattress. Having been assured that good sleep is of utmost important as part of my crucial recovery from physical strain, I opt for the super-comfortable version only to realize 3 days before departure that it will not fit into my red box (i.e. Tour d’Afrique baggage restrictions). Or the Ethiopian consulate in Frankfurt, who, after travelling 250km for the sole purpose of obtaining a visa, tell me visa are not issued on that particular day and, being a British citizen, please submit my application to the London embassy. But I managed. Vaccinations were received, gear successfully assembled and my passport is adorned with entry permits into various African countries.
I return to my initial thought: What is lying ahead of me? For starters, my Cairo hotel failed to confirm my booking. Landing at 1 am at Cairo International with all my belongings to lodge around, finding accommodation is fairly high up the priority ladder. Looking further ahead, I will be meeting my fellow riders in the days to come. Trying to master even more far sight, I attempt a quick mental run-through of the first couple of racing days. I fail miserably. In fact, I really have no real tangible notion of what actually is lying ahead of me. Whilst the run-up to the Tour d’Afrique may seem like a little adventure in itself, the real adventure is still to come.
I return to my initial thought: What is lying ahead of me? For starters, my Cairo hotel failed to confirm my booking. Landing at 1 am at Cairo International with all my belongings to lodge around, finding accommodation is fairly high up the priority ladder. Looking further ahead, I will be meeting my fellow riders in the days to come. Trying to master even more far sight, I attempt a quick mental run-through of the first couple of racing days. I fail miserably. In fact, I really have no real tangible notion of what actually is lying ahead of me. Whilst the run-up to the Tour d’Afrique may seem like a little adventure in itself, the real adventure is still to come.
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