(English Translation Below)
Dag 57: Pita na Koundara 'n Dag van kontraste. Die pad wat as brokkelpad begin, skielik oorslaan na perfekte Shinese teerpad, en net so skielik, reg oor die bergpas, terugruk na stukkend-skud pad. Daardie tipe klipharde modderpad wat drooggeword het. Ons is moeg. Het nou vir hoeveel dae gery sonder rus. Ons visums bied ons slegs vyf dae om deur Guinea te kom, so ons kan eers rus in Senegal. Gister agt ure aan 250km gery. Die dag voor dit tien ure aan 290km. Ons plan is om deur te druk see toe. Dakar of St. Louis. Daar te rus en te herstel vir die laaste derde van ons toer. Twee motorfietse van voor af. Mede-reisigers deur Afrika. Ons stop om hallo te sê. Dis 'n man en vrou, elkeen op sy eie fiets. Diep in die sewentig. Hulle is oppad Kaapstad toe. Ons dink aan hoe sommige van die paaie en stede ons uitgemergel het, en hier is 'n Duitse tannie van oor die sewentig besig om dieselfde te doen! 'n Ent later kom ons 'n fietsryer tee. Ook 'n Duitser. Ook oppad Kaap toe. Op 'n trapfiets! Ons wonder waar trek die hardloper wat ons in Kameroen teëgekom het. Engelsman oppad Londen toe vanaf Kaapstad. Elkeen van ons op ons eie reis. Ons stop om water te drink. My Camelbak is weg! Êrens afgeskud. Ons oggend-roetine was anders omdat De Witt sy pakroetine moes verander om sy sak wat afgeval het van nou af onder 'n ander sak vas te maak. Dit het my pakroetine geaffekteer, want ons moes gaan eet voordat ek klaar gepak het, sodat hy ná ete sy nuwe roetine verder kon voer. Toe maak ek nie die Camelbak soos gewoonlik met sy eie gespe ook vas nie. Klein details wat mens duur te staan kan kom. Ons moenie ons onderliggende uitputting onderskat nie. 'n Ander lastigheid is dat my Cardo valhelm-interkom gister terstond opgehou werk het. Nou kan ons nie met mekaar kommunikeer terwyl ons ry nie. Ons slaan oor na handseine toe, soos in die ou dae. Bel vir GPS4Africa waar ons die Cardo's gekoop het. Hulle sal 'n plan maak. Dis Saterdag vandag. Hopelik kan hulle Maandag via die verskaffers vir ons iets reel. Vanaand, in Koundara, sowat 45km van die Senegal grens af, vervang ons die lugfilters, maak die kettings skoon, gee olie. Ons slaap in 'n vuilerige plek met baie muskiete. Gelukkig is hier 'n muskietnet. Maar die muskiete ken al die ding se skeure en gate, so dit help nie veel nie. Maak alles net warmer en bedompiger voel. Wanneer laas het ons lopende water vir stort en toilet-toe-gaan gehad? Mens waardeer eers werklik iets as jy dit nie meer het nie. Ons raak al hoe meer bewus dat ons beide Afrika én Europa in ons are het. En dis OK. Day 57: Pita to Koundara A day of contrasts. The road that starts off as a painful crumbling path suddenly transforms into a perfect Chinese asphalt road and later, just as abruptly, reverts back into a shake-you-to-pieces endurance test right where the mountain pass begins. That type of rock-hard mud road that has dried up. We are tired. How many days have we ridden without rest? Our visas only allow us five days to cross Guinea, so we can only rest again in Senegal. Yesterday it took us eight hours to ride 250km. The day before, ten hours to ride 290 km. Our plan is to push through to the coast. Dakar or St. Louis. Rest and recover there for the last third of our journey. Two motorbikes up ahead. Fellow travellers through Africa. We stop to say hello. It's a man and a woman, each on their own bike. Deep into their seventies. They are heading towards Cape Town. We think about how some of the roads and cities have worn us down, and here is a German lady in her seventies doing the same! A while later, we encounter a cyclist. Also a German. Also headed to Cape Town. On a bicycle! We wonder where the runner is whom we met in Cameroon. An Englishman heading to London from Cape Town. Each of us on our own journey. We stop to drink water. My Camelbak is gone! Somehow, it got shaken off. Our morning routine was different because De Witt had to change his packing routine to secure his bag, which had fallen off, under another bag from now on. It affected my packing routine because we had to go eat before I finished packing so that he could continue his new routine after eating. Then I didn't secure the Camelbak with its own clasp as usual. Small details that can cost you dearly. We shouldn't underestimate our underlying fatigue. Another inconvenience is that my Cardo helmet intercom suddenly stopped working yesterday. Now we can't communicate while riding. We switch to hand signals, as in the old days. Call GPS4Africa where we bought the Cardo's. They say they'll figure something out. It's Saturday today. Hopefully, they can arrange something for us via their suppliers on Monday. Tonight, in Koundara, about 45km from the Senegal border, we replace the air filters, clean the chains, oil them. We sleep in a dirty place with many mosquitoes. Fortunately, there is a mosquito net. But the mosquitoes know all its tears and holes, so it doesn't help much. It just makes everything feel warmer and stuffier. When was the last time we had running water for a shower and using the toilet? You only truly appreciate something when you no longer have it. We are increasingly becoming aware that we carry both Africa and Europe in our veins. And it's okay.
2 Comments
Mpho Mminele
11/15/2023 01:25:05 pm
Sterkte, manne. With you in spirit all of the way.
Reply
Fransie
11/16/2023 10:23:49 pm
I agree with Mpho. And the last sentence gives me food for thought.
Reply
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AuthorThis blog was written by Dr. Jean Cooper. For my work as organisational psychologist, adventurer and writer, go to www.jeanhenrycooper.com |