Home Again

Hello family and friends.

Yes, a third adventure into Africa is at an end, and it’s lovely to be home, even if in just 6 weeks the world seems much changed by that maniac Vladimir Putin.

Six weeks will no doubt have passed very quickly for all of you, and on my return I have been greeted with the usual ‘Oh, are you back already?’, but believe me those six weeks seem a lot longer to me. Not because it was not enjoyable – it most certainly was – rather because every day was so very different and excitingly uncertain compared to one spent at home. Time goes slowly away from routine. 950 miles, four countries (Mauritania, Senegal, The Gambia and Guinea Bissau) and despite some fairly extraordinary road surfaces (pictures below) not one puncture.

Getting home from Guinea Bissau proved something of a challenge thanks to a positive COVID test (no symptoms) in the capital Bissau, 48 hours before my flight, and being barred from taking a second test for ten days. Ok, perhaps not rigorous compliance with the spirit of the COVID protocols but I managed to get home via a 9 hour bus journey back to Banjul in The Gambia and a direct flight to London (no test required) from there. Fully masked of course.

But that little problem was just about the only snag in what has otherwise been a really wonderful adventure. I have had the most wonderful good fortune throughout. So much could have gone wrong but nothing of significance ever did. And of course, Mr Merc took not a backward step!

It’s hard to describe just how wonderful are the cool, quiet mornings, the empty roads, the birdsong and that vivid light that is only Africa’s. And as the countryside and villages awaken, the endless cries of greeting from the children, ‘Toubab! Toubab!’ (white man!). All seen from the best vantage point and pace anyone could have, a bicycle.

Ok, by midday when the temperature is up to 35 – 40 degrees, the road has become a sandy potholed mess, yet another truck has tried to kill you and you’re ready to punch the next person who shouts ‘Toubab!’, things can become a bit trying but one endeavours to stay cool and to reflect that it’s all part the adventure of cycling in West Africa.

Hardest day? Well, positive COVID test day wasn’t so great….but, yes, perhaps the day I cycled 106 kms on just 2 biscuits. In Casamance, southern Senegal. Dinner the night before wasn’t much of a feast. Having unintentionally seen the filthy plastic container from where my precooked ‘chicken chips’ came, basically so as not to cause offence to the grubby fingered lady who gave every indication I was in for a right culinary treat, I sneakily wrapped the whole lot in a serviette and threw it in the bin. I went to bed without eating. Nor, next morning, and despite umpteen assurances, was there any breakfast. The security guy looked nonplussed that anyone should think breakfast would be before 9am, some two hours distant. No, no! He knew nothing about any promises. Anyway, good effort, I got on Mr Merc in a bit of a huff and with my two biscuits and four litres of water just knocked off the 106 kms to the next town. ‘TIA’ I repeat to myself, to quote young ‘Denny Orcher’ in Blood Diamond.

There are too many best days to mention. West Africa is scenically stunning. I stayed in some beautiful places. By no means was it hardship! My route took me from the horizon to horizon sands of Mauritania, through the dry savannah and deserted picture postcard beaches of Senegal, up the mangrove banks of the river Gambia and down into the endless green and fragrant cashew trees of Guinea Bissau. And all the way, every so often, the land is crossed east west by the most enormous rivers. Where can all that water come from?

I have as ever met the most wonderful people. Everyone, of whatever colour, is so open in Africa, so ready to help, to talk. You cross paths for a few hours or a day and at the end you feel you have been friends for ever. As to so many Africans I met, the poverty and absence of opportunity is often overwhelming but as we know those with the least are often willing to give the most. A special mention must go to my Belgian cycle companion of about a week, Lucas. It was great to share so much of the adventure with you. But clean your chain! And wash your shirt more often! Good luck in your final days.

Anyway, it’s difficult, perhaps the pictures will give a better idea than ever I can in words.

It’s wonderful to be home….but until the next time!