The Proposed Route

The Proposed Route
No doubt the route will change along the way, but having a rough plan is always a good plan!

Thursday 17 May 2012

The World is a better place than you think it is, and other stories

 
With families and friends breathing a sigh of relief, all three of us are back to our day jobs. Sitting at a desk, chasing an x-ray and processing another request from an over-zealous healthcare professional. Walking home from the swimming pool yesterday, for the first time since I came back, I had a pang of desire to go back. I didn’t want to go to work the next day. I wanted to wake up before the sun rose, eager in anticipation for the unknown and keen to see the world waking up around, cycling out of a secluded camping spot. It’s not going to happen though and, in the meantime, I figure its best to try and learn and take pleasure from what we have done. I hope you enjoy my final blog, some reflections from the past few months on the road.

The World is a better place than you think it is
Perhaps we were lucky but, after 4 months on the road, the truth is that all we have met is incredible kindness, generosity and trust. These acts of kindness have almost entirely come from people that we had never met before that moment. Whether it was a bed for the night, a cold drink on a hot day or even a dinner out on the town, they were gift which people went out of their way to give. Gifts that we could only give our thanks and inadequate offers of trying to returning the favour in time. Sadly, we will probably not meet many of these kind people again, I believe however that in these altruistic acts there was an understanding that the binding light of humanity had been passed on. That within their act of kindness, they have handed on the baton and it is now our duty to pass that forward – something I will certainly try my best to do in the future.

It would be unfair to make a comment only on the people we met along the way without also thanking the 105 people who have so far sponsored us. When we first set out on our challenge, £3500 seemed an inconceivable amount. It would require many of our friends and family to come together to raise the amount needed to build a water pump for a village. As the journey progressed our resolve to reach this goal was strengthened by the fact that we often cycled for days relying only on these village pumps. The value that they brought to the local community was obvious, it didn’t need a randomized trial or cost-effectiveness analysis. It was difficult for us to imagine life without them. In each village the pump was a constant hive of activity, families filled water buts and tracked in and out on the radiating paths. Who knows how far these paths went into the bush.   

The response to our fundraising for WaterAid have had has been incredible and we want thank all of our family and friends who have donated. We appreciate that in the current economic climate money is not easy to come by and many of you will have made a small sacrifice. I hope that you can also feel part of the wheel of generosity that we feel the trip has enlightened for us. The kindness you have shown in your donations is certainly equal to that of our new-found friends on the road, and we hope to repay that in some way in the future.   

During one of our long, hot afternoons on the bike Rick reminded me of Alistair Humphreys concluding comments from his epic 4 years cycle around the World: "The World is a lot better place than you think it is". In four short months of cycling, we couldn't agree more. 

Friends we made along the way...

There is no such thing as an easy days cycling/Never expect anything

As we cycled for four months, it would be remiss of me not to have learnt something about cycling. After many conversations during idle hours on the bike I think we all felt that there is no such thing as an easy days cycling and, related to this, never expect anything. Whether its rain on the penultimate day of the trip after weeks of blazing sunshine, a stinger of a hill that comes out of nowhere, a mechanical failure or a blasting headwind, they are all part and parcel of the physical and mental challenge of a bicycle tour. Even as someone who enjoys a challenge there are days when you wake up tired and sore but hopeful, as you have only planned on an “easy” day 60 km’s down the road. In that situation, I learnt never to expect what you hope for and to be prepared for any number of eventualities. Never expect anything, least of all an easy days riding…

On a good day however, the unpredictability is something you look forward to (even if it is a stiff, winding hill to get stuck into) and can be the reward that you never expected, like a stunning view over a series of lush crater lakes, a chameleon crossing the road or a friendly chat to a random punter over lunch. These all meld into your “Golden Moments”, times that you never expected but will stick with you forever.

An easy 30 km afternoon

Africa is Rising

My experience of the past 4 months, passing through 7 countries in East and Southern Africa, has instilled a belief that the African Continent is on course for economic success. Over the past decade six of the ten fastest growing economies in the world were African. In eight of the past ten years Africa has grown faster than East Asia, and the next half century will likely see the rise of the African Lion economies, as the last saw the Asian Tigers. The continent’s ancient geology and relatively sparse population means it has what the world now desperately needs, natural resources and land. Compared to Western Europe, 1/5 of Africa’s natural resources remain “undiscovered”, while in Mozambique only 8% of the countries arable land is cultivated. Sadly, the crux of whether this wealth converts into equality and a functional state lies in the governance of the nation and the investors it chooses.

On the whole, our cross-section of factory owners to street hawkers expressed their hope and a belief that the country was headed in the right direction. For some the excitement was almost uncontainable, the business opportunities were all around you, all you needed was some common sense and “a bit of capital”. And to be fair, the signs of growth were there. We saw the burgeoning middle classes queuing around the block for the bank, representing the boom in African banking. Trucks rolled past us over the Zambezi Bridge transporting heavy machinery to the mines and the construction boom that has followed it. Commercial farms from Mozambique to Tanzania have started to supply Western Supermarkets with fresh fruit and vegetables.

Queuing around the block for the bank...
With the global economic crisis unfolding, the era of foreign aid is slowly passing which, many would argue, is not necessarily a bad thing. The future for Africa will never lie in dependent, donor-financed projects. As markets have opened Africa is now entering the razor-edged world of commercialization and investment that will engender their economic growth. The challenge is that this growth can be converted into infrastructure, education and health that will benefit the half of the population still living on less than $1.25/day. However, the pillars of good governance stand in the way (as Wanguri Maathai calls them, the three legs of an African stool), and many states are in need of deep reforms. Of the countries we have cycled through, several harbour flimsy democracies controlled by the rich and powerful elite, others are little better that benign dictatorships in which ministers are deposed of at a whim and leaders imprison their opposition on spurious charges. As if we needed reminding, in Tanzania last week allegations of bribery and corruption have led to an overhaul in the cabinet. Whether this represents a suring up of power amongst the elite or an actual move away from corruption is unclear. Either way, in what many believe is most stable democracy in East Africa, it’s a worrying thought.

As we cycled through the developing countries of Sub-saharan Africa we have often tried to imagine what the streets, markets and homes might look like in 50 years time. Looking back on the changes in the 50 years since independence one might come out with an infinite number of options. If 6% of rural Kenyans have power now, how will that change? For the adventurous touring cyclists, will there be a widely serving road network? Will there be health centres run by assistant medical officers, or family practice surgeries? What will the unemployment rate be? Will every family have a laptop? Or, will they just use their smart phones to check their emails?

To return to the main point, although economic growth is a near certainty there are singificant issues. Rampant inflation (often between 15-25%) means that for most qualifying as “middle-class”, little in their living standards changes. There is a still a huge, huge gap in gross GDP; America’s GDP per capita is 137x greater than Malawi. Even double-digit growth would take centuries to reach a level of international equality. Not forgetting this, internal equality is perhaps the most important. Since 1998 the number of dollar millionaires in Africa has doubled, while the total number in poverty has risen. A recent report by the Africa Progress Panel, led by Kofi Annan describes the “deep, persistent and enduring inequalities in evidence across Africa”.

The challenge is set, will the governments of the countries we have visited choose to follow the current trajectories of disjointed but high growth, with the hope of a “trickle down effect”, or will they choose to build a more sustainable, egalitarian model with universal access to essential services. I can’t help but feel that, for the average village women we met along the way, their already well-developed patience will be a virtue. Over a seafood dinner in Maputo, Mozambique, a thoughtful local construction merchant predicted, “10 years of stability and growth after which things will be too unequal and people won’t stand for it any longer”. Perhaps April 2022 will herald the beginning of the Subsaharan Spring? 

The Environment is more important than we think it is

The final 200 km into Johannesburg cast a dark and sooty cloud over otherwise untainted and natural route. We passed by countless shafts and excoriated open-cast mines, interspersed by the smooth, concrete cooling towers of the coal-fired power stations. The land had been scarred. As the early morning mist clung tenaciously on to the last tendrils night, we passed a rusty fence, a locked gate and a lonely, armed security guard protecting a disused open-cast mine. Perhaps the abandoned slag heaps needed the from the recolonising ochre scrubland. A few kilometres earlier noxious fumes from the power stations belched into the atmosphere, their unseen efforts contributing to future decades of plight for people thousands of miles away.

Bar this final industrial scab, we had cycled lush forests, open savannah and thorny bushlands on a route blessed by wilderness. Where farming took place, it had been largely subsistence, the basic methods that seemed the result of a long-lived relationship forged between man and the environment. A definitively far cry from the anthropocene carnage we see in the industrialized world. The comparison is laughable because it’s so obvious, and yet you can’t help but feel that the average African’s relationship with nature is worth something important. Important not only in the sense that morally we in the west are plundering the lives of other creatures we share the planet with, but environmentally and economically in the carbon sinks we destroy and the plants and animals that may hold the secrets to help us in healthcare or industry.  
Mineshaft over the road
At present Africa is a low carbon continent as energy use and spending power are extremely low. Americans use 10,381 Watts/year while Tanzanians use just 618 Watts/year. There are also success stories. The Cahora Bassa Dam, in Northern Mozambique produces over 2000 MW of energy. Equivalent to almost 90% of the countries energy needs in 2008. Driven by huge rivers tumbling from ancient plateaus, the future for hydroelectric power in Africa is immense. Current estimates suggest that Africa only harnesses 7% of its potential hydroelectric potential. The Congo river alone can be felt up to 25 miles out to sea. At present however, as evidenced in Tete and in the Johannesburg area, coal generates over half of Africa’s power. And, with oil and gas reserves on the East and West shores, the future looks to be sticking with fossil fuels.

It’s difficult to cover environmental issues in Africa without referring to the Kenyan visionary and campaigner Waangari Maathai who (in addition to offering the three legs of the African stool) highlighted the centrality of the environment in addressing her Challenge for Africa. Although she sadly passed away in November 2011, her spirit will certainly live on in the aspirations for good governance and partnership with nature which she forged. From the experiences of the past four months, I can’t help but share her well-founded sentiments. Cycling past the open coal seams of Mozambique and South Africa, the logging trucks in the Congo basin of Western Uganda, the charcoal production in the Usambara’s and the traded fishing rights in the rich waters off Mozambique, I felt a sad realisation that I might not ever truly appreciate the value of these unique and often indigenous environments until they are gone. 

Usambara's, diversity equivalent to the Galapagos

Thursday 10 May 2012

Maputo to Johannesburg: The only way is up

Although Rick may have more to write, and Gunnar may want to upload his interviews for the Norwegian press (!), this is the first of two final blogs from me from our East Africa Cycle. In retrospect, perhaps we would have been more accurate to call it East and Southern Africa Cycle. To include the South in the title would be not just geographically as Mozambique and South Africa are Southern countries, but it reflects the influence that the relative economic giant of South Africa has exerted over our route, since entering the lower reaches of Malawi. But, before going over some personal reflections in the next blog, the final weeks cycling was not without the usual trials and tribulations that deserve some mention.

Given that Swaziland has the title of the “Mountain Kingdom” and the fact that Johannesburg is 1700 metres above sea level, you would be forgiven for expecting us to be better prepared for some hills. However, sporting a nonchalant attitude, we rolled out of Mozambique with visions of speeding west across smooth South African tarmac into the setting sun. Bar a few sharp climbs, the first day and a half granted us that wish. We spent our first night camping out in a Game Reserve before crossing the Hlane Royal National Park early the following morning where, despite the warnings we came away our empty handed from our last opportunity to see a lion or leopard, although did see a few zebra, wilderbeast and giraffe.

Crossing the border of Hlane National Park...
We joined the main road to Mbabane, the capital of Swaziland, hoping to make it 20 kms past it by evening. Early on we made excellent time and 10 km’s out from town it was looking good. Only then did we meet the hills of Swaziland. It was seven kilometres of pure climbing the easiest of which must have been 7-8% gradients, with my speedo stuck at 7 kph we slowly ground our bottom gears up the hill. We had spent that afternoon on the hard shoulder of a dual carriageway and were not keen to cycle on in the dark, so when on the first descent towards the bowl of Mbanane Gunnar had a two inch shard of glass lodged in his tyre we started be concerned. A quick inner tube change and tyre patch and we just had the time to make it to a near by market to buy our dinner. In a new country, in a city, next to a dual carriageway was far from ideal when it comes to safe camping. After a few minutes chatting to a few passers by (at one point Gunnar was being told by a local Swazi guy not to speak to or trust anyone, while I had someone telling me that Swaziland is the most friendly and safe place in Africa…) the lady who ran the local market place offered us a camping spot in her garden! We just had to wait a few minutes for her to close everything up. Happily, we sat by the market enjoying the Chelsea buns which seemed to have popped up in local shops – definitely one of the better roadside snacks of our trip – before being led up a short hill to her house to spend a very comfortable and satisfied evening. 
 
Maguga Dam
The small, stocky nature of Swaziland reminded me of Rwanda, and similarly it was only going to take us a couple of days to ride through it. The next day we would ride to Piggs Peak and then cross the Bulembo border into South Africa into Barbeton and our rest day. At about 130 kms it should have been fairly manageable. We covered the hilly 70 kms to Piggs Peak, a stunning ride which swept down to cross the Maguga dam before rising up to the Peak, comfortably in the morning, and enjoyed a well earned lunch still buzzing from our climb. Before we were due to set off we treated ourselves to a nice clean toilet and an ice cream at KFC. We met a South African couple who gave us a warning – the 20 km road to Bulembo was dirt, hilly and the border closes at four o’clock, in two hours time. Not unduly worried but not wanting to rush our cycling, we set off promptly on our bikes. 


Climb up from the dam (under my left hand!)
It was about half an hour in, after winding out of town on a rough and steep track, at a pace of about 8 kph we started to be concerned. What happened next I would happily choose to forget. For the next 90 minutes we pounded up rocky climbs and picked our way down technical descents, barely having a moments rest between the two. In my exercise addled brain I was constantly trying to work out what speed we were going to need for the next section to make it on time, but never quite seemed to get it right.  When we finally struggled into the border post, up a sharp incline with less than 5 minutes to spare before it shut, we collapsed in a sweaty, dusty mess. A South African family clapped us in and I swore at that point I would never ride the road ever again (I still stand by that). Perhaps slightly ironically we didn’t make it much further than the border. Supportive and generous the Saffer family may have been (they gave us a couple of beers and some biltong for our efforts), but they were horrendous at road descriptions. “Ah yah, it’s mostly downhill to Barbeton”. After another 4km of constant up, followed by some rolling hills, our legs politely told us to stop and we pitched up, 30 km short of our rest day. Despite being the sacreligous choice – nothing messes with the rest day – it was a good one, we were treated to a stunning campsite and beautiful couple of (definitely not downhill) riding the next day.

I had been looking forward to entering South Africa for a long time. I had never visited before and was excited to see what African flavour development tasted like. At first it felt guilty, I felt we were breaking the frugal rules of our trip by having a Full English breakfast, with filter coffee and topping that off with a takeaway pizza for dinner. But it was difficult to turn down. We had the money and in an affluent town in a developed country it wasn’t an absurd thing to do, so why not? I guess after the simplicity of our roadside foods, the choice and opulence was a culture shock and the inequity that came with it was difficult to swallow. Either way, it did taste good even if my stomach seemed to struggle with the extra cheese.

Gunnar rides our from freezing morning mist

The final three days to Johannesburg happily passed without incident. After being advised the road was “fairly flat” it wasn’t a surprise to find a 10 km and 7 km climb in our first mornings riding (Why are drivers so rubbish at remembering and describing roads!?). As we arrived into Carolina that evening black drifts shimmered by the roadside and heralded the beginning of 200 km’s of rich coals seam which would take us all the way into Johannesburg. From the beautiful, green pastoral lands of Swaziland and Western South Africa, the brown, tufted arable fields, interspersed with Coals mines and Maize fields felt cold and unwelcoming. We passed several huge Coal fired powered stations, working at full capacity generating electricity that sped towards the big cities of Northern South Africa on athletic-looking steel pillons. Perhaps the saddest sight was a lonely security guard protecting a now disused open-cast coal mine. Having dug 60 metres down and clawed all the coal from the earth, it was left for nature to attempt to reclaim what was rightfully hers protected by a lone gunman. The parasitic humans had moved on in search of more energy to feed their insatiable demands. If the views weren’t unpleasant enough the cycling wasn’t much better, double-trailer land trains came past us every couple of minutes meaning we rode ever-vigilant in single-file. If this was the development that I came for, it was a sobering view, I hoped that the land around Tete, where $4.5 billion of coal reserves had been discovered might have a better fate.

Power station on full blast
Although normally comfortable on a busy road, I felt nervous on my final day cycling. The road remained busy with uncompromising trucks and we carried the burden of 4 months without any significant incidents. Thankfully, providence delivered us safely to the friendly Turton family on the outskirts of Johannesburg. The final entrance was low-key. If there were any banners we missed them as we cycled straight past the main entrance and up the wrong driveway, eventually needing to be let in the side gate. We took off our panniers, unpacked, showered and did our washing before falling asleep in a hammock on their verandah. It took a while for it to sink in, over an incredibly tasty braii, a few beers and some warming Turton hospitality that evening I had one of a series of small waves of satisfaction – Kampala to Johannesburg by bike – job done. However, a few days later I am still waiting for that huge rush of elation for having achieved what we set out to do. I’ve come to think that it probably won’t ever come; Johannesburg was just another stop that happens to be a bit further than the rest. To be quite honest, I don’t mind, I happy in the knowledge that the rewards we searched for have been there all along, in every pedal strike of our journey.

Journeys End