14th April 2008 - VICTORIA FALLS, ZAMBIA

End Zambezi Zone, enter Elephant Highway
During any journey time seems to speed up as the end approaches and the same is true for the Tour d’Afrique. Whilst the time spent in Sudan and Ethiopia felt (and in fact was) extensive, we are now constantly moving on. Tanzania, then a few days in Malawi followed by just over a week in Zambia.

Already we are at the Victoria Falls, which (by some measures) qualify as the largest waterfalls on earth. The rainy season is coming to an end and the huge amounts of water carried by the Zambezi River fall over a 2 km wide edge into a narrow gorge, sending up a spray of water which can be seen from the town of Livingstone 10km away. A little bit closer and we start hearing the impressive “Smoke that thunders” (Mosi-oa-Tunya, the Vik Fall's original name given by the local people). Standing on the opposite side of the gorge, the water doesn’t only fall down on us like rain or even a shower, but it is a downpour that soaks us down to the bones. Depending on the wind, streams of water are running down the paths and create little waterfalls themselves. Experiencing the Vik Fall’s magnificence makes it fully understandable, why they are rated as one of the world’s 7 natural wonders.

I feel I have been getting stronger on the bike over the course of the past three months and, to test my limits, I decided to curb up my racing efforts for the section Zambezi Zone, going from Malawi’s capital Lilongwe until Victoria Falls. It was by no means an easy section, with many stages between 150 and 195km long. My mission required more than just sweat and sore legs and on the 73rd stage riding in the peloton at 40 km/h my front wheel got caught up in Bernd’s rear wheel and a close encounter with the tarmac followed. Luckily I got away with nothing more than some nasty abrasions and the bike is still in one piece as well. We have had numerous pretty bad cases of infections resulting from as little as a mosquito bite or a scratch, so I am left praying for the best. In any case, I managed to secure a respectable 4th place for the section Zambezi Zone.

Tomorrow’s stage will kick off with a 40km time trial, after which we will cross the Zambezi River into Botswana (with 750m length the probably shortest international border).

MEMORIES OF KILIMANJARO and THE TWO WEEK BREAK

Our compulsory 2 week break (we skipped Kenya due to political unrest) has passed and already lies 10 days back. In fact, we are scheduled to exit Tanzania and enter Malawi tomorrow. I fondly reflect back on a great time in a great country. People are extraordinarily hospitable, admitteldy also more used to foreigners. The contrast to Ethiopia couldnt be bigger and plunging into Tanzania without Kenya as buffer feels like a culture shock. For example: a group of 10 people would enter an ethiopian restaurant. Eventually a waiter would come to take our order. Seemingly as a matter of pride Ethiopian waiters never carried pen and paper. Add to that the communication barrier and you see what I'm getting at. The first person would order. The second would continue and in the middle of a sentence the person would walk away. This was actually quite a common phenomenon. Enter a shop and ask a question...in the middle of a dialogue the person turns around and walks away. As a contrast in Tanzania people seem almost refined, suave and incredibly attentive. These differences were nowhere greater than in Arusha, a northern Tanzanian town. Arusha functions as hub for some of East Africas greatest tourist attractions: Mount Kilimanjaro, Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater, etc. Consquently, it is one of the most westernised places in Africa. Prices are double of what you find anywhere else and all the perks of western society are readily available (one of the first things I did upon arriving in Arusha was load up on huge amounts of KitKat and Snickers bars...you have no idea what 2 months of deprivation can do to you).

MEMORIES OF KILIMANJARO
In our 2 weeks in Arusha, looking for a new challenge, a little group of intrepid cyclists and myself decided to measure our physical and mental stamina against the challenges of Mount Kilimanjaro, at 5.898m the highest mountain in Africa and the highest free-standing mountain in the world (as comparison, Mont Blanc in the Alps reaches only 4.800m). Our tight budget had us opting for the no-frills organiser.

Exceeding 4.500m altitue on our 3rd day on the mountain, a strong, throbing headache set in. 5th day was summit day. We were to be fed tea & biscuits and start our summit attempt at midnight. The evening before I already start getting hungry, yearning for the early hours to arrive and thus receive my meal. 23.30 a porter knocks on my tent and hands me a plate of 3 buiscuits....no joke. EVERYTHING has to be carried up the mountain and as it turns out no-frills really means no-frills.

The summit attempt was made in the dark, leaving me with no sense of remaining distance or current altitute. Halfway to the top I began suffering from serious altitude sickness: nausea and vomitting, headache, drowsiness and high heartrate. The pace was incredibly slow, yet my pulse was pushing towards its maximum and I thought my heart was going to explode. Rest was kept to a minimum to avoid us cooling out. During the little that we did get I was seriously struggling not to fall asleep. I have to admit, at that point I didn't see how I could muster the energy to summit. But I kept going, step after step. At 6:15, our guides all of a sudden stopped, shook our hands and hugged us. We had reached the mountain's crater rimm and were only 1/2h away from Uhuru point, the peak. In our back the horizon was turning into shades of red and orange, announcing the sunrise. Then, at 6:45 I was standing on top of the roof of Africa. This was in equal measures one of the toughest and most overwhelming days in my life.