Review: The last weeks on the Tour d'Afrique

By now I am again fully accustomed to the comfortable lifestyle at home with all its treats and perks. The simplicity of life in the desert with nothing other than my bike and my tent seems far away, almost surreal.

Yet, I look at my pictures, flick through my diary and as little as a single blurred image or a few written words instantly unleash a flood of memories. I remember what I and my fellow riders were doing that day, what the overall mood was; how we started off in the morning and the challenges we faced throughout the day. Even things such as what the weather was or particular smells. It all comes back overwhelmingly. The diary entries are evocative of my emotional ups and downs. I am reminded of the gloominess I felt when I thought my entire gear was giving up on me and the elements were conspiring against me. Or the uplifting feeling of having the sun shine on my face and the wind blow in my back, ready to take on the world.

I am pasting some entries, which I made in my diary during the last quarter of the tour going from Livingstone in Zambia at the Botswana border all the way down to Cape Town.


16th April 2008
Bush Camp (15km from Zimbabwe Border), Botswana

First full day in Botswana we ride in an 8-man peloton. It’s the usual racers plus Max, Dave B., myself and Heinz, the new Austrian sectional rider. We have silly winds throughout the day and its a very flat stage. However, chunks are extremely beautiful, reminiscent of the vast grassland we saw in the Serengeti. I can sense game being all over the place, but don’t see any. Others do. There are elephants, giraffes, zebras and antelopes. At the speed we were riding today and the concentration required to stick to the slipstream of our front man in the peloton we would probably ride past pretty much anything.

Today’s camp was not flagged. Anticipated distance for the stage was 160km. At 143km people start sprinting. All of a sudden I see the trucks on the side of the road…too late!!

Our camp is located very close to Botswana’s Chobe National Park. Elephants must have been here recently. Footprints and dung are all over the place. Actually there is a pile right next to my tent.

I had my tent set up in a perfect spot before. Shortly before sunrise a pair of notorious snorers and early risers set up ½ m next to me. For the sake of a good nights sleep I move my tent to the next best option, far inside the bushes. Now, lying in my tent at dark I come to think that this was maybe a stupid idea. Chobe National Park isn’t far and wild lions do roam around sometimes. I get really paranoid. For the lack of a better idea I “mark” my territory and light coils around my tent…as if that is going to make a difference.



19th April 2008
Maun, Botswana

Four days in Botswana and no elephants! Very frustrating and I wonder if that would be different if I would have taken it slower. Hmm, no way to know. At times we were riding so hard that a herd of elephants could have been standing right next to the road and we would have missed them nonetheless.

Yesterday we raced the 170km to bush camp. Fairly repetitive and dull landscape, except for some interesting looking salt pans filled with water. Everybody pushed on though and I tried to stay in the group. No time for pictures. At the next (only) coke stop we staid for a quick refreshment. Heinz is new to the tour and incredibly overzealous, doing less than 5 min break for the whole day while we had a rather lengthy lunch and the coke stop afterwards. It paid off for him and he came first for the stage. Bent too skipped the coke stop and was ahead of us. Jos, Bernd & Chris pursued hard and dropped me in the process. I make 6th place for the day. Max and Dave B. were out of the game even earlier.

Bush camp was a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but the Kalahari’s typical scrubs and dust. It was early afternoon and the sun was burning down vertically, baking everything. No sign of the trucks. One of the vehicles had a broken spring and the guys tried to fix it, working ‘till late into the night before and early that morning. Poor buggers!! One of them has malaria, the other one is sick as well. Anyway, no sign of the trucks, no food, no water, virtually no shade, no sat phone to check on the status. The next day was scheduled as a non-race day. Somewhat jokingly I suggested finishing the 145km to Maun instead of waiting around. However, after a while the idea stuck. Four people (including me) were up for it. Next (huge) obstacle was water supply. We all were almost down to zero and hitting the road without the precious liquid would have been near suicide. We waited on the road and flagged down four vehicles. One told us of a little village somewhat off the road, the other three ensured us there is nothing at all. Not very promising.

The only remaining hope was for the lunch truck to arrive before 2pm, our cut-off time to make it before nightfall. At 2.15pm it pulled in.

So we set off, with nothing but a little water, some energy bars, a few dollars in our pockets and our minds set on achieving what 3 of us had never done before: going beyond the 300km mark for a single day.

15km into our new challenge the wind began turning out of our favour and into our face. Soon after, stomach cramps started setting in and my throat hurt from the lack of water. But rationing was crucial. We had to preserve what little we had left. Rationing water, rationing food and rationing our own energy. My body was being pushed over a distance exceeding anything I had ever done before. Halfway through and all I wanted to do was get off my bike and sleep on the side of the road. There was no time though. We had to push on to beat the sun to the end of the day. African drivers are bad enough during daylight; I don’t dare imagine what being on the road is like at night.

At 85km a police checkpoint was blocking the road. Our only thought was ‘imagine, there could be something to drink around’. We got stopped but couldn’t have been more single minded about what we wanted or care less about the police’s plight. Eventually they gave up trying to make sense out of our dazed minds and pointed us towards an old lady with a cool box and some snacks. Half running we jumped the box, taking out cans of coke by the lot and ripping open packets of crisps. We must have looked like a bunch of lunatics. A few minutes only and we had to get going again. The sun was edging dangerously close towards the horizon.

Finally, entering the outskirts of Maun we got wrapped in darkness. All that was left was the feeble light shed by the moon. A police patrol stopped and begged us to get of the road for the sake of our lives. We bargained for them to escort us to the nearest hotel. Tired as a log and half starving we crashed at Riley’s. There was one last thing to do for the day…hit the hotel’s buffet dinner. Still dressed in our cycling shorts and jersey minus shoes we must have looked badly out of place in the restaurant. We got more than the usual odd glance.

Total distance for the day: 315 km


06th May 2008
Garies, South Africa

We crossed over the Orange River and into South Africa yesterday. Some big climbs (where I promptly get dropped) as we gained the 800m altitude out of the valley, which the river is flowing through. At the end of the day I came 6th . Dave B. gained 10min on me. I THINK that leaves me with only a 10min edge on him for the section. Better be careful in the coming days!

South Africa greeted us with a terrible cold weather front. Apparently that is unusual for this time of the year. But then again so was the first week of freezing cold in Sudan. And the dry ‘rainy season’ in Tanzania. Anyway, its freezing cold, its windy, rain is pouring down and I’m feeling let down by my gear. My rain jacket seems to accumulate more water on the inside than there is on the outside; my vision is blocked by the water splashing on my glasses; my bike computer has stopped working (God knows why…I replaced it only a few weeks ago); both my aero bars got loose (not ideal when going down the hill with 70km/h and strong gushes of wind coming from seemingly all directions); my big 42 tooth chainring is vastly insufficient (some of the others have a 52 tooth chainring and they are pedalling like crazy at 65km/h…what am I doing!?!); the lockout on my rear shock is toast, meaning wobbly climbs.

On a more cheerful note, we were just informed that our reception in Cape Town will be attended by the city’s mayor as well as ambassadors from Germany, USA, Canada, Holland and Austria. Pretty cool.

Sitting in camp I observe the others pitching their tents. There are some simple guidelines that we have come to learn during the past months: pick an even, preferably smooth spot; stay away from termite mounds and bare soil, which attracts the little buggers (they will eat holes into your tent); if its windy, look for a protected spot; try to minimize the distance that you have to carry your gear; avoid snorers; avoid early risers; avoid couples (they talk in the night/early mornings). You see, a good night’s sleep requires some careful preparation.

4 days left ‘till Cape Town. 6pm has just passed and I desperately need some rest. I’m feeling so tired these days.