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To describe this adventure (Oxford: “an unusual, exiting and daring experience.”) to someone is difficult. The journey (Oxford: “an act of travelling from one place to another”) of 19 countries and 30 000 kilometres could be described as the trip of a lifetime. I have more than a bag full of memories.

The trip has been interesting, to say the least. It can be broken into seven parts, the first one being the first three weeks with my friends from April 2011, the second the solo ride until the end of June 2011, the third the Spanish beak away during July 2011, the fourth the part where Fernando joined me with his bike, the fifth where I was alone again, the sixth where I followed Martin and the seventh on my own at the very end. The first three weeks was luxury, good food, conversation and everything else that goes with it. The problem with the bike was not that bad, as I could drive in the bakkie for some time. Since my friends left me in Windhoek it was tough at times, and one would like to share experiences with others. Man was not built to live alone! The European trip was a nice break from the bike, I lived in luxury and had the company of my friends. I also spoke Afrikaans for nearly two weeks. I saw museums and churches, and had fantastic infrastructure all around me. The time with Fernando was cool. At first I had to get used to travel with a fellow biker again, but later I managed to know his pace, and did not drive into him from the back as he mostly drove first. We parted earlier than originally planned, but the trip had to continue. Part five was similar to part two, but as I had done it previously it was easier. Travelling alone is still in my opinion better than not traveling at all! Part six was cool, as I got on well with Martin. Part seven was necessary to wrap things up.

The bike has behaved beautifully since getting a new radiator fan and water pump seals in Windhoek. I am still not sure why the first fan failed, maybe because of the numerous falls in the salt pans (Botswana) that made the fan rust and cease. This is just a theory that I will probably never be able to prove. The water pump seal probably went due to the fan not working. The bike has travelled on very good roads and treacherous ones. I am proud of my BMW, and not B M Trouble You as some would say. A real workhorse, like “Boxer” of “Animal Farm” (George Orwell) always saying “I will work harder”. With such a long trip one tries to look after the bike, which I think I have done successfully. I washed it frequently, made sure all the bolts are tightened, checked oil and water levels, as well as tyre pressure. I changed oil in Windhoek (Namibia), Franceville (Gabon), Accra (Ghana) and Saint-Louis (Senegal). This was much more frequently than the intervals specified by the service manual. I looked after the chain by applying chain lube frequently. I bought a new rear tyre at KTM Toni-Togo in Lome (Togo) – the old one may have made it to Dakar, but I used the opportunity when it came along (in Africa you take your chances I was told!). I changed the chain and sprockets in Accra (Ghana) as the parts were sent there from South Africa. I bought a new front tyre in Dakar as the lack of knobblies in places resulted in heavy vibration at low speeds. Losing the bolt holding the front sprocket in place in Mauritania was scary, but the temporary (and later permanent) solution got me to my final destination. The luggage system worked well. I will still vote for hard luggage when it comes to the famous hard luggage versus soft luggage debate! The about 25 000 km done by the bike shows you that these machines should not be used for commuting to work only or as a status symbol stacked away in one’s garage at home! My ass was sore from sitting on the bike for sometimes up to eight hours a day – not exactly the “Working 9 to 5” that Dolly Parton sings about! This is something I will not miss. I would use the same bike again if I had to choose.

Loading the bike was time consuming. Everything had its place. The panniers were locked first, which mainly contained the spares, netbook, medical kit, cooking pots and other things used less frequently. The tent was fastened on top of one pannier, and sleeping mat on top of the other. The waterproof roll bad was tightened, containing the sleeping bad, clothes, toiletries and minimal food. The second (mostly empty) fuel can was fastened with this bag. The tank bag was fastened last. Steve Hofmeyr in his song “Pampoen sings ”Bring jou hele lewe in ‘n tas” (English: Bring your whole life in a suitcase). I did it. Packing my life into aluminium panniers, a dry bag and a tank bag. All in all about 35 kilograms. It is possible! I would however loved to drop some weight off the bike which could made driving easier, but I feel that I was at the bare minimum.

Kitting up every day is a ritual that I have perfected. I first put on the trousers and boots, then the kidney belt. The jacket is followed by the neck brace. At first this item was uncomfortable, but I got used to it quickly. Only then the hydration pack goes on my back. The helmet is put on, and then the gloves. The gps is put on and I then climb onto the bike. By now I have started sweating! I will not miss this part of the trip too much!

The scenery in Africa is amazing. I have seen pale grasslands, green forests, the sea, jungle, mountains and desert. It was very humid, something I was not really used too. Wearing a full bike kit that is warm in this type of weather sounds foolish, but safety comes first. Rain at times was frustrating, resulting in even slower travelling. Wet clothes for days on end were not nice and after having them dried out it was frustrating when it rained again or having to walk through a river. However, I managed as I could not travel only in the dry seasons. Sometimes cross winds on the bike was not favourable, but reducing speeds worked here.

I met various people. Of all shapes and sizes. Both friendly and grumpy. Ones waving easily and other who you can see that does not like a tourist driving in their country. I even received sheers and applauding, as if I won some kind of rally. (But “I am no hero, I am just a man” – Steve Hofmeyr.) Most like the big bike, as it is uncommon. Some tried to swop their bikes for mine! Some beggars were encountered, holding out their hands. Hoping for something. Anything. I have seen people living a simple lifestyle, harvesting food for today as tomorrow is a day away. People living for today only. I often wondered if the many shop owners make a living or not. Some are sitting at the cafes and bars. Johannes Kerkorrel says in his song about Hillbrow: “Ons sit in die son en drink wyn, on surive met ‘n helse lot pyn ….” Loosely translated it says “we sit in the sun and drink wine, and we survive with a lot of pain”. Where these people get money to buy the beer, tea or coffee I do not know. Other people dress to kill (Oxford: “Wearing glamorous clothes intended to create a striking impression.”) In the cities men wear suits and women fancy clothes, each trying to look better than the rest. Not very much different from SA. Most men due to their physical work have huge biceps, something I will work on in 2012! In tourist places everybody is a “qualified guide” and souvenir sellers target you out of every corner.

The road conditions are as variable as the mood swings of a pregnant woman. It sometimes appear as if there was a good road about 30 years ago. Other times the road surface is new. Some gravel roads offer extremely good riding, others is so corrugated that all germs are shaken loose in your stomach! Sand have been very challenging, also varying from manageable to tiring resulting in the use of some swear words. Winding roads make short distances take ages. The roads closest to the borders were in the worst condition. Other times one cannot imagine that the main road linking the north to the south or east to west of a country can be in such a bad state that it was at my time of travelling. What Africa needs are proper roads! In Southern Africa we are very privileged (believe it or not). I was told that roads in East Africa are better – hopefully I would have the change to drive on them one day! In Africa one does not ask how far one place is from another, but rather the time it takes. Mostly a distance of 400 kilometres takes up to eight (8) hours or more. Road conditions however improved during the last two months.

Getting used to traffic was not easy. Taxi drivers own the road and park when they want when they want. One often had to adjust at the last seconds for this behaviour. I soon adjusted to driving patterns in Africa! In some countries trucks, cars and busses just drive in your side of the road, as the potholes on their side of the road does not “allow” them to drive there. A lot of time I was at the edge of the lane trying to avoid an accident! I also saw that the small bike (100 to 150 cc) is the thing to use in Africa. You can drive everywhere, and carry nearly everything – from people to goods and animals. And every mechanic knows how to fix this machine. And it is cheap.

I have seen a lot of different food. Fresh fruit, chicken and meat are found and consumed. Canned fish and meat are sold in supermarkets and next to the roads. Bread is freely available, and delicatessens in bigger cities. The local beer has been good and after a long day on the saddle this went down well. Cold Coca Cola, Fanta and Sprite can be found in nearly every village. I have had more than enough tinned fish (sardines and tuna) and bread and will abstain from it for a while. Eggs are common, and various forms of omelettes can be bought at roadside cafés. Coffee and tea is freely available, sometimes tasting very bad.

The places to stay have normally been the “surprise of the day”. One can stay in luxury at a premium. Sometimes the only room or camping spot available was expensive and filthy, whilst other times one pay so little for a comfortable stay. I found it hard to compare places and prices, as everyone tried to make money out of you without offering you too much. Camping has been difficult in towns. Bush camping in West Africa was not really an option as the road is normally the only open thing (otherwise I had to de-bush an area). Some major sites did not have camp sites. I soon got used to cold showers, or washing from water in a bucket. Other times the salty Atlantic Ocean was my bath, and it doubled as the laundry service!

I have seen some game and other animals on the trip. Also camels. Lizards are everywhere.

Security and safety has not been a problem or threat. A part from the strange encounter with the police officer in Kinshasa I have had no problems. Officials at road barriers sometimes just wave at you, whilst others make you stop and show them your passport. The barriers in Nigeria were intimidating at first – a muscular man armed with an AK47 does scare me. After a while one gets used to this sight as well. I was asked twice for bribes. One Nigerian official wanted Cameroonian money to keep in case he needed to cross the border one day (laugh out loud!) I laughed at him and drove away. Another official was supposed to stamp my carnet, and demanded a small fee as I woke him from his nap during working hours. I left without a stamp on my carnet. In other parts officials write down your particulars in a book, or you give them a fiche (slip of paper) with the details of you and your vehicle. I had good fortune at border crossings. None of them took too long, as I tried to pass at smaller crossings. The staff was mostly friendly, but some had to be woken from their sleep so quiet the crossings were!

The language barrier has been extremely difficult as my French and Portuguese is not well developed at all. I had aspirations to work in France, but after this trip I would forget about ever thinking about that. I learned a few words relating to refuelling, food and lodging. I swore a lot at people in Afrikaans when we could not understand each other. Then I cooled down, tried again to pronounce the worlds correctly, or sometimes give a sample, and then hold out my hand with some coins for them to choose what I owe them. You get a feel for the price after a while, but if it was expensive I raise eyebrow and moaned (again)! Other times I flatly ignored when someone said “Bonjour”.

I also saw with how little one can get by. Growing up in SA I was used to luxury, although it did not always felt like it. Using cold water from a bucket to wash yourself after a long day on the bike was more than enough, although a warm shower once a week was the luxury I needed at those specific times. Sometimes weeks went by without a warm shower. I got used to dirty and sweaty clothes (even wearing underwear for days in a row!).

Life on the road was fairly simple. One worry about three things: where will I get fuel, food and a place to sleep. Also one wonders about the condition of the bike and if it is tough enough. Sometimes these questions were hard to answer, but mostly not. I also saw some fantastic tourist sites.

Meeting fellow bikers and overlanders and talking to them on what routes they took, where they slept and what problems they had was cool. It brought back memories – good and bad! Some had to load their bikes onto trucks to the next towns, and others had to wait months for spares. I admire those who traversed the whole African continent, like Fernando, Martin, Margus and Kariina, to name but a few. However, I am way behind in kilometres and time travelled compared to them. Maybe I cannot be called a real adventurer!

The support from friends and family to date is what sometimes carried me on the trip. Receiving a large amount of e-mails and sms’s at the right time was extremely cool. I am truly blessed with good friends looking out for my well-being. I sometime wished I could invite everyone for a braai, but that was not possible.

The Lord has blessed me so much during this trip. The support, people I met that looked after me, no trouble with officials, minor problems with the bike and just knowing that I am looked after is more than grace (unearned favour). I was every day thankful I was on this journey. The trip has been worth it. Tough and hard, but seeing some spectacular things and places is sometimes just too difficult to describe to others. One guy said in an Afrikaans drama series years ago that “Life is like a nicker ball, tough but enjoyable”. I have to agree! I was fortunate to be only sick once, and then I had access to a doctor.

What would I do different if I could? Nothing major. I adjusted the route when I needed to, and still saw the majority of the places I wanted to visit originally. Some political instability made me change the route slightly, which mean that I have to visit some places I missed out this time in the future! I would learn French.

My most prized possessions included: The Bible, Leatherman (multi-tool), I-pod, GPS and camera. The netbook was a luxury item that assisted with keeping contact.

The trip has been one fantastic experience I will never be able to fully describe. All I can say is I live on a beautiful continent full of surprises and potential. My advice is to take a trip of a lifetime to your destination of choice. People may think you are crazy spending a lot of money, but it is worth every cent. Do it before it is too late (no, I am not preaching). It takes a lot of sacrifice, but the reward is huge in the end.

In the end one has to ask: “Was it all worth it?” This is the song by the British super group Queen where it is asked if “living, breathing rock and roll” was worth it. In my case traversing West Africa. Yes, yes and yes [Wi and Si (French and Spanish)]. Every drop of sweat, every cent. Would I do it again? Yes, yes and yes.

Africa is not that dark as some say, but has its share of problems: poverty, littering, unemployment and corruption. Hopefully this can change. A lot of places are still very poor, with little or no infrastructure. I hope this could end in the future. In a recent article in the “Sarie”, a SA magazine, famous SA overlander Johan Badenhorst said the following “Mense dink aan Afrika as ‘n donker plek waar kannibale woon en waar jou keel vir ‘n paar dollar afgesny word, maar dis ‘n ongelooflike, komplekse vasteland wat onder jou vel inkruip.” (Loose translated he said that in Africa is not that dark place where one gets murdered for a few dollars, but Africa is a continent that grips you). I have to agree!

HJ Wright – Adventurer, overlander, dreamer and philosopher
October 2011

Day 170 – Cairo to Johannesburg

The flight was boring (as usual). We landed about an hour late. After collecting luggage I was picked up by Hennie, Adrie, G and Jaco. My welcome home gift comprised biltong and a muffin!

Day 169 – Cairo

After four hours on the airport terminal, in the early hours of the morning, when the majority of people have their “beauty sleep”, I watched other passengers at the airport. We were booked in at a hotel close by, but had to wait for the morning to see what would be next. I was advised the morning that I would be on the next flight to SA, but would only receive my boarding pass three hours before departure. The rest of the day I spent in the hotel room watching movies with Tony, my roommate, also on the same flight. At the airport I met members of a church group who visited Israel. I started to get used to speaking proper Afrikaans.

Day 168 (06 October 2011) – Casablanca to Cairo

I dropped the bike off early. I then quickly arranged a plane ticket with the help of my friends at the travel agency in Pretoria. No time for last minute souvenir shopping! After hopping into a Merc taxi (one of the old ones) we took on the traffic. The driver was told that he only had 30 minutes to get me to the airport. He tried his best. He was creative – creating extra lanes where there should not be, pushing smaller cars aside as he had the bigger more robust model, he used hooting, speeding, waving, hand signals and swearing in Arab and French – also violating traffic officer’s signals, etc. This worked and I made it in 40 minutes. I paid for my ticket and loaded the luggage (not baggage). Then we were told to wait for four hours as there was a delay. We eventually flew, but I missed the connection flight from Cairo to Johannesburg. After four hours on the airport terminal, in the early hours of the morning, when the majority of people have their “beauty sleep”, I watched other passengers at the airport. We were booked in at a hotel close by, but had to wait for the morning to see what would be next…..

Day 167 – Casablanca

I visited an embassy to see if I would be able to get a visa to go to Europe. The answer was no. It sounded as if the voice of the metro system said “Doors closing”. One less option. I started to think about air freight, but this option was expensive and would be a big hassle. I decided to visit a company that gave a quote a few weeks earlier. We managed a deal, as my options were running out. Either take a risk with a possibly damaged bike back in SA or pay a “Few dollars more” (Smokie) for peace of mind and professional service. The rest of the afternoon was spent on paperwork. Somehow I wondered if I made the right decision, but only time will tell. The best would have been to drive the bike back to SA, but time and financial constraints makes this option not feasible.

Day 166 – Casablanca

The search continued. I was hoping my ship would come in this day. Some companies had no English speaking personnel, whilst others could not help. Others said that they would send an e-mail with a quotation. I was getting tired of the same rhyme: “I am from SA. I drove a while to get here. I seek transport for my motorcycle back to SA. Can you help me?” I continued until the afternoon, when I decided to go to the beach. I checked my mail frequently to see if I had any luck. Not yet. I knew the size of a standard container by the end of the day (5,918 m x 2,330 m x 2,356)!

Day 165 – Casablanca

I woke early to start the business part of the trip – finding a ship for my bike to Cape Town or Durban. I e-mailed some companies before hand, but had no real joy. I decided that introducing myself and explaining my requirements would be the best. I hopped from one logistics company to the next. My pockets were filled with business cards by the end of the day. But I was not closer to an answer.

Day 164 – Meknes to Casablanca passing Rabat

After breakfast I said goodbye to ME. We travelled together for more than 6 000 kilometres and about four weeks. It was sad, but another chapter of this adventure had to close. It felt strange driving on my own again. The road to Casa was boring. The last portion is a motorway where fast cars made me nervous. After searching for the camp site for a while I eventually was told that has closed down. Plan B – alternative accommodation. I drove to the old part of town and found a cheap hotel. I wondered for how long I was to stay here?

Day 163 – Fes to Meknes via Volubilis

After packing up, we went to Volubilis, the best preserved ancient Roman ruins in the whole of Morocco. We spent some time at this tourist site before departing to Meknes. This was also my last night with ME.

Day 162 – Fes

We visited the ancient medina (old quarter). Whilst drinking some mint tea, Reto, who camped with us, bumped into ME and I. He is familiar with the medina and showed us around as he visits Morocco nearly every year. We had a guided tour without paying a cent! Our visit included some tanneries (the leather does not smell nice at all!), some medersas (theological colleges) and of course souvenir shops. I luckily only managed to buy a fridge magnet. We returned to our camp site late and had dinner with the two bikers from Germany riding diesel bikes.

Day 161 (29 September 2011) – Fes

ME visited a doctor as he felt feverish. Like a good wingman I made sure he made it home safe. I swam and bought supplies for a hearty camp pasta!

Day 160 – Todra Gorge to Fes

A long day on the road, nearly 500 kms, led to Fes. The scenery was less amazing than the previous days. The one pole of my tent broke, resulting in the necessity for running repairs.

Day 159 – Dades Gore to Todra Gorge

Rather than taking the tar road, we decided to tackle the gravel road linking the two main gorges in the area. The rocky gravel road was challenging, and I drove slowly as my confidence was low due to too much tar the past few weeks! This is off course the type of terrain where you would like to have a small and light bike without any luggage, but I made it slowly-slowly without any falls or scares. We slept at a hotel in the gorge, full of other German tourists.

Day 158 – Zagora to Dades Gorge

After breakfast ME and I said goodbye to the other bikers. We were heading in the direction they came from and they in the direction we came from. The drive had again spectacular scenery. We arrived at a popular place where European campervans took all camping space and we had to settle for a room! Tagine with beef and figs was a divine dinner.

Day 157 – Zagora

Some bikers took on some pistes in the region, whilst other just chilled. I was part of the lazy bunch, but my body wanted rest. I enjoyed the company of the Irish bikers.

Day 156 – Ouazazate to Zagora

All of us had one goal in mind – to take a picture at the well-known and iconic sign “Tombouctou 52 jours” (52 days by camel to Timbuktu through the desert). I was not sure how close I really was: 52 days by camel or the 300 km when I was in Mopti. I will have to check…. After a lengthy photo session we did some routine maintenance on the bikes – checking oil levels, air filter cleanness, etc. Zagora is a place for all sorts of bikes, and we saw a lot of them. A lot of people take on desert rides with light endure bikes. This is on my wish list as a future trip!

Day 155 – Ouazazate

ME arranged to meet another biker later the day. We thus explored the town and relaxed until midday when three more bikers arrived. Freddy, Sargent Decky and Colonel Foxy introduced themselves. We chatted and joked for hours on end, also talking about bikes.

Day 154 – Marrakech to Ouazazate

We left the city and went south. Another winding mountain pass with sharp left and right turns were driven. We stopped at the well-known Ait Ben Haddou, a well-preserved kasbah used in many films, including Gladiator and Lawrence of Arabia, amongst others. We set up camp in Ouazazate after dark.

Day 153 (21 September 2011) – Marrakech

We chilled for another day and visited some more tourist sites. We were hassled by a lot of souvenir shop owners wanting to “make business”. I repaired my one pannier. A bar which sold alcohol was found and we “made love to our tonic and gin” (Billy Joel – Pianoman).

Day 152 – Marrakech

We explored the old city – like true tourists. Loads of other tourists we seen in the various old palaces and museums. Dinner was enjoyed at Djemaa el-Fna – the main square filled with food stalls and artists. The fresh orange juice sold here was delicious.

Day 151 – Agadir to Marrakech

Another scenic route was taken and not the freeway. The winding road had a lot of ascents and descents. We stopped a lot for photo breaks, although the photos cannot capture the real beauty. Late in the day construction works resulted in another 30 minute stop, but this time no photos were taken. We found a posh place in the old town to settle. The wide bikes nearly did not make it through the narrow alleys, but driving to the main entrance of the riad was fun.

Day 150 – Mirleft to Agadir

The beautiful scenery and winding roads in the Anti-Altas region was just as taste of what was to come. Beautiful and challenging mountain passes in Morocco. A biker’s paradise! No lies. After reaching the tourist city of Agadir, we set up camp close to the beach and fancy hotels. We decided to break the traditional Moroccan cuisine of kebabs and tagines with a burger from McDonalds. I even saw highlights of the RWC on one of the televisions!

Day 149 – Tan-Tan Plage to Mirleft via Tiznit

We met two other bikers on the way out of town. The experienced men travelled light and took on some pistes previously used for the Dakar rally. Their fun ended when one bike broke down. One day I could hopefully play with a light bike in the desert. We reached Mirleft after midday and settled in the cosy beach town filled with some other tourists. The evening dinner at a street café resulted in the observation of the local lifestyle.

Day 148 (16 September 2011) – Laayoune to Tan-Tan Plage

ME and I continued north. We stopped at Tan-Tan Plage, close to the beach, after another day of driving along the coast of north-west Africa. Beautiful.

Day 147 – Dakhla to Laayoune

We continued on the tar road in the desert. The Atlantic Ocean to the left and sand to the right. Occasional camels were seen. I kept thinking to myself: deserted (a place appearing empty) or desert (desolate area with little or no vegetation)? The Little Prince (book by Antoine de Saint Exupery) says: “I’ve always loved the desert. You see nothing. You hear nothing. And yet through the silence, something throbs and gleams…”. At first I differed from him, now I agree that the desert has something special. But I do not know what it is! We saw an old KLR bike at one of the small café’s before Laayoune. We stopped and talked to the couple on the way from Dublin to Dakar. We departed after exchanging stories, ME and I north, and the couple south. Before dark we found a hotel and dinner. (Note: We passed the town Tarfaya where the author of the above-mentioned book lived the next day).

Day 146 – Dakhla

At last a rest day. I slept very late, and then we explored the town. An afternoon nap was followed by a swim, and watching a European getting kite-surf lessons. One day when I am big I will try this!

Day 145 – Nouadhibou to Dakhla (Morocco)

I eventually found the correct nut, after visiting the “bolt man”(owner of a shop with lots of scrap metal including nuts and bolts) and a hardware shop. I fixed the nut and adjusted the chain slack. From now on I would have to keep a close eye on this nut, as finding one was difficult! We headed north, further into the desert. Immigration on the Mauritania side was quick. Then the infamous 3 km stretch between the borders followed. This sandy and rocky track was not that tough, but it felt strange driving there. Apparently there are still landmines left in the area! Immigration on the Moroccan side took longer than expected. We continued north, in the windy desert. In the area previously known as Spanish Sahara. Some call it Western Sahara. Or just Morocco. This time it was not that hot – it actually got colder the longer we drove. Only for the second time on my trip I drove in the dark. We reached Dakhla, a kite-surf paradise at 20h30.

Day 144 – Nouakchott to Nouadhibou

After filling the tank and all my extra fuel cans we departed. It was hot. It felt as if someone was holding hair drier in front of you face. We were also stopped extremely frequently to give officials a fiche – a document with your personal details on. 60 km from Nouadhibou, at another police stop, my bike stopped. The location: Parallel to the border with Morocco (Western Sahara) – thus parallel with the iron-ore railway line from Choum to Nouadhibou – or to be exact at coordinate N21 16,658 W16 40,811 according to my gps. ME continued, unaware of my problem. Furious I first blamed the cop for stopping me, but he did not understand my English. I cooled down with a coke. I followed good advice given to me before departing in SA: If you encounter a problem, first rest for a few minutes and then take care of it. Good advice. Mechanic Omar introduced himself as I was thinking of possible problems. I explained that the bike gets into gear, but then there is no power when I open the throttle. We checked the clutch cable, which was working fine. Then I opened the cover of the front sprocket. The nut holding the sprocket in place was gone, and the sprocket slipped of the drive axle. Scary! I carry a lot of nuts and bolts, but not a M20 with fine thread as it was too heavy! Omar and I put the sprocket in place and moved the rear wheel back to ensure that the sprocket would not slip off again due to the chain slack. This temporary solution got me into Nouadhibou. ME eventually realised than I had a problem and he turned around. He arrived when I was ready to leave. I made it to town, thinking how the bolt could have got missing. I myself properly tightened it when I fitted the new sprocket in Accra. ME and I searched the town for a bolt, but we could only find a M20-nut with the wrong thread. Lesson of the day 1– I am not yet ready to open a bike shop in West Africa! Lesson of the day 2 – Every problem has a solution.

Day 143 (11 September 2011) – Nouakchott

We lazed the whole day. I spend most of my time in the air-conditioned room of the auberge.

Day 142 – Saint Louis to Nouakchott (Mauritania)

We took the new tar road to Diama, the quieter border crossing to Mauritania. The Rosso crossing is apparently horrible, and corrupt. Various taxes had to be paid, without the issue of receipts. This was because it was Saturday! Or was it the first bribes I had to pay? I assume it is some form of tourist tax, as we passed through a national park. Funds are required to keep these places accessible for tourists! We continued for 80 km on a corrugated piste, with some sandy sections. The scenery changed dramatically fast. And we were soon in the desert. Flat areas covered with red sand. And there is some people living there. We were also in camel country. Not Camel Filter or Camel Lights, but where the four-legged slow-going mammal is found.

Day 141 – Saint Louis

I decided to do an oil change for the bike. We drove to town and quickly finished the job in record time. The German doctor was my interpreter, as my French still sucks! I met Fernando and Virtudes for lunch, which was on a week holiday in Senegal. The evening I had to settle for sardine-pasta at the camp site instead of watching the opening of the Rugby World Cup 2011. A hard life!

Day 140 – Saint Louis

A German invasion hit the camp site. Two young lads driving from Hamburg to sell a Mercedes-Benz in Mali also arrived. Add a German doctor and the right opportunity for a braai surfaced! The next problem was to arrange some meat. ME and I took a taxi to town, found a butchery and a grocery store ro buy supplies for the evening. We also took a tour of the town, which has an impressive bridge over the Senegal River and some French buildings – in variable states though. “Baby ek wil braai vanaand” (English: Baby I want to have a barbeque tonight) by the RKO and JP was my theme song! The braai went well.

Day 139 – Dakar to Saint-Louis

After packing we drove to Pointe des Almadies for a photo session with the bikes and in daylight. We followed the advice of the Pet Shop Boys – “Go West, life is peaceful there”. Not really that peaceful, as local artist just wanted to sell souvenirs to us. Afterwards we headed north to Saint-Louis, a coastal town which was the first French settlement in Africa. The whole day the song of German pop group Modern Talking was in my head – “Brother Louis”. Luckily the gps had the route covered, otherwise asking for directions may have been catastrophic as nobody would know where Brother Louis is! We reached the camp site just south of St Louis later, after stopping for a fresh watermelon lunch on route.

Day 138 (06 September 2011) – Dakar

This was ME’s one year anniversary as he started his trip this time last year. He wanted to celebrate. And in style he did! We cleaned our bike’s air filters and had the bikes washed. ME also did an oil change. I repaired my tank bag.

Day 137 – Dakar

ME required an oil change for his bike. We found a bike dealer capable, but the price was steep. We found only 200 m further down the road a shop selling front tyres. The owner had eight in stock! We were both complaining of vibration on the front steering due to an uneven worn tyre. Fitting took time – African time. During the afternoon I cooled down in the Atlantic Ocean. This would be my furthest west swim ever!

Day 136 – Tambacounda to Dakar

We maximised our time in the air conditioned room before we departed for Dakar. The road was new, which made travelling easy. Some traffic slowed progress towards Dakar, and after a lengthy search we found an auberge (lodge) close to the beach. Reaching Dakar felt like a dream come true, for some unexplained reason.

Day 135 – Kayes to Tambacounda (Senegal)

For some reason we managed to sleep late (08h00 rather than the usual 06h00). We drove to the border, where formalities were again quick. We had to drive around a bit in Senegal to find the immigration and customs office though. We arrived in Tambacounda and found a bungalow with air conditioning – a welcome relief after another warm day.

Day 134 – Bamako to Kayes

Martin (ME) from Germany, on a round Africa trip which started in September 2010, was my new riding partner. After nearly 45 000 km round the continent (33 countries) on his Tenere 660 he was riding in front and I followed. The junior partner I would be for who knows how long! Leaving the others in Bamako was sad, but we would hopefully see each other again. On route we were stopped by an angry policeman that was not happy with us not using the dedicated bike lane. No sign indicating the lane to be taken was present, but explaining this to him was impossible. Eventually we continued. The last 120 km had a lot of potholes, but the scenery made the drive worthwhile. Close to sunset we found a place to sleep and later a plate of food.

Day 133 – Bamako

I visited a local supermarket with some other travellers, and bought some peanut butter for a change! I took on the traffic in Bamako to see the capital of Mali. I saw a bit of the city, but the heat and traffic limited my riding time. I decided to hang with the other overlanders at the cosy Sleeping Camel. Fritz, a South African expat also staying there, treated us all with “potjiekos” – a traditional SA dish. It tasted really good and he received compliments from all the whole night. After dinner two bikers and I took on the nightlife for a few drinks.

Day 132 – Bamako

I chatted with all the biker overlanders. It was strange seeing all of them on the internet with their small computers – sending mails and updating blogs! We talked about the routes taken, which was nearly the same, muddy sections, sandy sections, our falls, damage to bikes, border crossings, places we stayed, etc. At one stage we were eight (8) bikers having a “biker meeting”!

Day 131 – Mopti to Bakamo

The long trip took me all day. It felt that there were villages every 5 kilometres slowing down my speed. The speed bumps also irritated me a lot. The end destination was an overland paradise in Bamako. Here Estonian, German and French bikers awaited me, as well as other overlanders. This was the place I had in mind for the past four months – more than one tent, a lot of bikes, overland trucks, friendly people, cold beers (and mosquito’s)! I settled in, but due to Ramadan festivities I had to buy food in the busy streets.

Day 130 – Djenne to Mopti

I arranged for a tour of Djenne, next to the Bani river. The town is famous for the largest mud-building in the world – the Djenne Mosque – also a World Heritage Site. The muddy streets did not smell good after the night’s rain, nor does the large amount of litter help. However, the tour was still an education. With it being a Monday, the market day, the town was buzzing. I also visited the house of the traditional chief, another famous building in town. The mud architecture is quite interesting, and I was told the mosque gets a new layer of mud every year to repair damage by rain and temperature. All the inhabitants of the town assist with this task. I departed by 10h00 for Mopti. Just as I arrived at the ferry it departed. I waited another 30 minutes and then boarded. I met another biker, a Portuguese guy coming from Mopti. The Estonians also joined me for the first 20 odd kilometres, where we split as they were on their way to Bamako. When I reached Mopti, Fernando’s tour guide intercepted me at the entrance gate of the town. I pitched my tent on the roof of the hotel and had a swim. The guide picked me up for a boat cruise on the Bani and Niger Rivers. We also visited the boat making yard and market. I was told about tours from Mopti. I enquired about Timbuktu, but the three day boat cruise and one day back by bus did not sound appealing in the heat. I decided that I would come to Timbuktu in January 20-something (20??) when there is a desert music festival and it is colder. I received an e-mail from South Africans that took on the route that I wanted to from Ouagadougou to Mopti. I probably would have met them have I taken it – but it was not to be. A pity though.

Day 129 – Bobo-Dioulasso to Djenne (Mali)

The road to the border was good. I tried to buy fuel at a vendor next to the rad when one customs official ordered me back to his office. I passed his stop about four kilometres back and he was resting under the shade and did not stop me at first. Luckily I only had to give him the Lassez Passe. I bought fuel and moved to immigration. It was easy again. The Mali side was also quick. I arrived exactly two months later than I originally planned too, but rather late than never! The original route changed a bit, and I went to Spain in the middle of the trip and not at the end as originally planned. A poor pothole section followed for about 70 km where I drove more next to the road then on it. The road was very deserted as well. I boarded a proper ferry to Djenne. The two way ticket would be valid the next day as the owner claimed he would remember me. I would have to wait and see! An Italian biker also joined me. I set up camp and met some more bikers. An Estonian couple that has travelled the world for the past three years two-up on their 1100GS. We shared stories of West Africa, as we mostly stayed at the same places.

Day 128 – Ouagadougou to Bobo-Dioulasso

I originally planned to stay another day in Ouagadougou and take the direct route to Mopti in Mali. After reading some articles on Mali safety on the internet I was warned not to take this route. I thus decided to move to Bobo-D and take another road to Mali, not as direct as I wanted. The road was not too bad, with some potholes in one section. The last section was good new tarmac though. I camped again and managed to buy some fruit at a street vendor.

Day 127 – Bolgatanga to Ouagadougou (Burkina Faso)

I was woken by a rainstorm at 03h00. I pictured another wet day on the bike. I managed to sleep until the sun rose. I packed and left for Burkina Faso. The border formalities were fairly quick. I had to buy a Lassez Passer as my Carnet was not valid in Burkina Faso. The road to Ouagadougou was good and I arrived at lunch. When I was about to pitch the tent is started to rain again. I waited and eventually pitched the tent. I fixed my back brake light. A connection was loose, so it was not a big job. The rest of the day I did some route planning.

Day 126 (25 August 2011) – Kintampo to Bolgatanga, via Tamale

I visited the Kintampo Falls before leaving the town. The falls is not that impressive, but the 30 minutes spend there was not entirely wasted. Some potholed tar followed until I reached Bolgatanga, just south of the Burkina Faso Border. A lot of goats patrolled the road. I decided to skip the Mole National Park, as the road leading there is poor and I have seen elephants before. I found a place to sleep and decided to get a proper shave. I located the first barber shop where Mohammed took off all the facial hair. I look like a new person!  

Day 125 – Elmina to Kintampo, via Cape Coast and Kumasi

Taking down my tent took ages, as the poles supporting the dome was rusted and did not want to fold. One of the handymen at Stumble Inn helped met (with his panga). I headed north towards Burkina Faso. I decided to see how far I would get in the day. Road works before Kintampo and a rain storm hampered me progressing north. I went to sleep early.   

Day 124 – Elmina

As I am only due to see the coast of Africa again in Dakar, Senegal, I decided to laze another day at the beach. I got hold of the “Long Way Down” book by McGregor and Boorman. I previously watched parts of the dvd. I must admit that the book got hold of me more than I thought. I finished the first 200 pages of the 300 page book. I have to complete it when back in SA! Bikes and travelling – what an addictive combination! I also walked on the beach. The evening I had a good time with the English and Dutch again.

Day 123 – Accra to Elmina, via Cape Coast

I woke up early to say goodbye to the kids before they went to school. The daily devotional was read first. I packed the bike and then headed towards the coast. It took nearly an hour before I was on the open road. The morning traffic in Accra is bad! Near Cape Coast I saw my first bike overlander! Damien, an Irish bloke, drove from Ireland to Ghana in six weeks. He had a BMW. He was on his way north to drop his bike off in Bamako, Mali, before heading home. He gave me some tips of the roads I was still to travel. And some cool places to stay. It was a pity he was so hasty, otherwise I could have joined him for a few days. I took a tour of the Cape Coast Slave Castle. The west coast of Africa has history of slave trading. Luckily this has stopped now. More detail is available on the web somewhere! The next stop was Elmina. I camped at Stumble Inn, where Damien advised me to go. Probably the coolest place I stayed during the entire trp. At the beach, with a friendly Dutch couple managing the place. They also did an Africa overland trip a few years ago. The place reminds me of Mozambique – the huts, beach bar, restaurant and friendly staff. I visited the Elmina Slave Castle before dark, and swam. The evening I chatted with the hosts, and more UK travellers on holiday in Ghana. Lesson of the day – Take advice from fellow travellers.      

Day 122 – Accra

I joined the Elim International Family Church for the early morning service with the Meyers. I enjoyed the worship and preaching. I do miss Sunday morning as I was used to it. It was also cool seeing people from many different countries gathering together. Other South Africans visited for morning tea. The evening we went for dinner at a restaurant. I also phoned home and spoke with my parents.

Day 121 (20 August 2011) – Accra

Deon did some work on his KTM 990 Adventure. Not often one works on a KTM I was told! He put in a new fuel filter and drained the oil. I watched and learned. And I passed some tools when needed. After finishing, we drove on the coastal road to Tema. Traffic was negotiated on this Saturday afternoon, and then we were stopped. A policeman picked up that I did not have a local number plate. And the papers were at Deon’s house. After some discussion we decided that I would wait at my bike and Deon would fetch the papers. Just before he wanted to leave, I showed the officer my licence disk. He seemed satisfied. Another officer came and made some small talk, and then we were told that we could go. Of course the officer first thought that I would make a contribution towards his Christmas gift fund! (I did not). This whole episode was filmed on the helmet camera! We made it home and watched the Springboks take on the All Blacks (which SA won). I realised that this year I missed a lot of rugby and will still miss most of the RWC! Damn. Lesson of the day – Keep your bike’s papers on you at all times. This can save time and frustration.    

Day 120 – Accra to Akosombo

I originally planned to leave for the coast, but decided to stay the weekend to watch some live rugby (the magical game played by 15 guys a side with an oval ball) and attend an English church service. I drove to Akosombo, some 100 kms north. Here I visited the dam and Volta River basin. The 114 m high dam wall created the biggest man-made lake in the world, with a surface area of 8 502 square kilometres. Electricity is generated at the hydro-electric plant. Tours of the structure is possible, but you have to have your own vehicle as a guide accompanies you. A motorcycle does not qualify. I was discriminated against! I luckily could get a proper view of the dam “From a Distance”. On the way back I explored another portion of Accra, close to the sea. I lazed for the rest of the day.

Day 119 – Accra

The last link of the chain was fitted and the bike washed. Benita (Deon’s wife) took me to the electronics shopping region of Accra. I was hoping to get a new battery for my netbook, as the original stopped working. The netbook still works with external power. With no luck in Accra one was arranged from ORT airport in Johannesburg. Cellular phones work!

Day 118 – Accra

I previously arranged for a new chain and sprockets to be delivered form SA to Ghana. This was the day I had to fit them. Thus the rear when was taken off for the third time in a week (The first one was for the puncture repair and the second for the new tyre fitment). I also drained the oil of the bike and cleaned the air filter. I spend quality time with my bike – as I do every day. As normal, I did create more work for myself than required, as I first made the chain too short and had to put another link in later. Deon and I went to the Accra Mall, where SA shops awaited me. We bought oil for the bike. Traffic in the city is bad with a car! Lesson of the day – Do not do more work than you have to, as it shortens your chill time.

Day 117 (16 August 2011) – Lome to Accra

I packed and went to the bike shop early. The mechanic Didier arrived and took my bike for a spin. I was concerned about a vibration on the front wheel, but he confirmed that there was nothing to worry about. I did the same checks as he did after consulting the manual the previous day! We found a rear tyre of the required size. The last one in the shop. Fortunate I was. Unfortunately he did not have a front tyre (of the knobbly type), but mine will last some distance more with a little vibration. The tyre was put on and I tackled the border post. I was told that this exercise could take up to two hours. It did not. I had some help from locals who showed me where to go, as there is a lot to do at the main border post with Ghana. The road to Accra was bumpy at first, but good tar followed (and a dual lane motorway towards the end). I arrived in Accra, where traffic welcomed me yet again. After some red traffic lights and a detour I arrived at the South African Embassy in the Labone area. I was picked up by Deon, another South African living abroad. I attended the Meyer’s Bible Study group for their weekly gathering. My last Connect Group session was in March in Centurion. I thoroughly enjoyed it and was just reminded of how important fellowship with other believers is.