Help Rob continue his motorbike journey home!!!

SADLY SO, AFTER TRAVELLING FROM LONDON TO CAPETOWN VIA WEST AFRICA, ROB HEADED BACK UP EAST AFRICA AND AFTER 37 COUNTRIES, ROB TRAGICALLY GETS HIS BIKE STOLEN IN DUBAI!

HE IS NOW STRANDED WITH NO BIKE, AT A COMPLETE LOSS AS HIS DREAMS OF RIDING BACK TO AUSTRALIA ARE SHATTERED! HEART BROKEN, I AM TRYING TO GET HIM A NEW BIKE, SO HE CAN FINISH WHAT HE STARTED.

GO TO www.hardwayhome.blogspot.com and help Rob get back on the road to Australia.

Anything would be greatly appreciated, Thanks everyone for the amazing support.

Sadly so, it's the end of a epic journey for me. What a roller coaster of an adventure it's been, I never thought that I would embark on such a trip having never rode a motorbike before (learnt 3 wks prior to leaving in London). But it's been absolutely amazing and am so glad that I made the decision to quit my job and just go for it!
So to all you out there who are not sure whether they can do it or not.. Just try it, anyone can do it if they really want to.

Thanks everyone for your wonderful comments and emails along the way, it surely made the tough times not so tough and an inspiration to keep going.

So it's hitting me hard going back to reality when I've booked my flight home and sadly sold my Baja to a lovely south African farmer..... but it doesn't stop me dreaming of my next adventure.

Also Rob's adventures still continues as he's planning on riding back to Australia, up the east coast of Africa, Dijibouti, Yemen, Oman, Iran, the stans, Russia, Mongolia, China, island hope home. Follow him on
www.hardwayhome.blogspot.com

We have been amazed at the generous hospitality of the many a south Africans we've met along our travels. People we hardly know, kindly invite us into their home, cook us delicious meals and force good beer and wine down our throats! Rob and I can't wait for an opportunity to return the favour one day in Australia.

After travelling through South Africa for months, we head east into the infamous Kruger National Park where we spent two days spotting wildlife.....

Impala by sunset dam

Defleaing Vervet monkeys

Stunning Kruger sunset

Crested Barbet

Steenbok

Rhino

birds nestling on the giraffe's neck

Africa elephants spotted by the river

Lilac Breasted Roller

A lioness rested right next to our car!!!!

Vervet monkey

A baby elephant flaring it's ears at us

Sunset giraffe

After spending over a month in Capetown revitalising the bikes at Tim's Motorcycles shop, engine out for new rings in the Africa Twin, new forks and stocking up for the next leg of Rob's trip up the east coast, we head east along the Garden Route.

Tims' Motorcycle shop in Capetown where we became locals

Rob along the Garden Route...place to spot whales

Transkei region...the wild wild coast

Cape Agulhas, the most southerly point of Africa

Route 62, with another Africa Twin owned by Jola and Brad from the US

My Bike has grown feather and has become more difficult to manourve- Ostrich riding in Oudtshoorn

Brad and his babes

Kung fu on the Beach in Nature's valley, myself and Jola

A pillion for a day exploring Coffee Bay

Surfing in Jeffrey's Bay

I'm nicknamed the Japanese tourist! Chizu

I can't believe I'm doing this

So typical....testing patience when spending 24 hrs a day together for nearly 11months!

Surfing the wave generated machine in Durban, its not that easy and you feel like you've been through a washing machine afterwards!

Amazing frozen waterfall up rocky Sani pass in Lesotho

It's as if we haven't had enough butt pain so Pony trekking we go in The kingdom of the Sky (Lesotho)

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Ladies at the traditional Umlanga reed dance festival, Swaziland

Hungry? Meat carriers at Umlanga Reed Festival

Fancing patting a Zebra!!

Its been a butt crunching 39,323 kms in 9 months from London to Capetown but we finally made it to The Cape of Good Hope safely

Yeee hhaaaaa

Signal hills curvy roads in front of table mountain after we climbed it

A whole overland crew get together in capetown. 3 cyclists, 6 motorcyclists and some girls we met on table mountain (Swedish, Canadian, German, Kiwi, Spanish, English, Latvian, Brazilian and of course Aussies!)

Even though the adventure is now over for me, I'm already planning another trip.... but this time its not on a motorbike!

Beautiful Himba lady in Kaokoland, Namibia

Himba dinky on the bikes

opps, i think its time for a new chain

After some ordeals & serious convincing, I managed to get out of Botswana and back into Namibia legally! Pheww. As I ride with some relief along some nice dirt roads, I hear a mighty crunch and suddenly all i could think was that It's all over red rover as the bike wasn't going anmywhere. I gesture to Rob, something is seriously wrong and as I look down I see my chain off the sproket! errkkk. On closer inspection, nothing serious but in desparate need of a new chain. Anyway, I'm not worried as Namibia provides a great distraction - what a beautiful country, full of spectacular rolling hills, roaming wild animals by the road & traditional tribal people. It's one of my favourites.

Climbing Dune 7 in Namibia

locals in Etosha National Park

When I thought hitting civilisation makes things easy, boy was I in for a treat! The detour into Zimbabwe was to get myself a new passport as I had filled mine up to the brim. Along the way we had to subsequently lift visas to put them over existing stamps to free up some pages, along with begging police officials to stamp in every nook & cranny on my passport. We even resulted in colouring in the Queen's head on a one penny coin, flipped it over & stamped it onto a unofficial page in my passport! (of course to say that its certified by the Queen and it worked).

In retrospect, we shouldn't have agreed to it but on behalf of the Australian embassy in Harare, Zimbabwe we were recommended to get an emergency passport instead of a ordinary one so we didn't have to wait 2 weeks there. We were told that we could use it with no problems to continue travelling through Botswana, Namibia & South Africa!

With relief we hit the Zimbabwe/Botswana border in Plumtree & exit Zim with no dramas. We then hit the Botswanian side & shocked to see about 300 other people trying to get in. (someone tells us it will take over 5 hrs to get through) When we get to the desk, Rob gets stamped in but my emergency passport causes alot of headaches. They rudely try & inform me that I need a visa otherwise they won't stamp me in (as Australians you don't need one). They start to become extremely rude, unhelpful & make us wait. We continue to wait, becoming more frustrated & annoyed. We cause a bit of tension until the senior comes out, but she's defensive from the word go and gives us more grief..... It's like beating a dead horse, completely useless.

We get told that our only option is to go back to Harare and get a visa!!!!!!!!!! Shit, what a predicament. I'm starting to get really pissed off now so we try to ring the embassies for advice but with our luck, its friday afternoon - the embassies are closed & noone can help us! Feeling defeated we have no other choice but to head back to Harare...

To get back to the Zim side (which at this stage we weren't sure if they would let us back in), we actually have to U turn through the Botswana entry gates. Low in spirit we pass the Botswana gate officials to turn around back to Mugabeville, surprisingly the official let us through without even looking at our documents or asking us where we are going.

As we ride into Botswana, I look at Rob and Rob looks at me. I know we are both thinking the same thing... Rob then sais to me " I'm with you all the way" So with that I choose to run the gauntlet & accelerate myself & my trusty baja illegally into the country. I have sudden frightening thoughts that I may be gunned down on the go so I dont dare to look behind me. Heart thumping, I see the border getting further away in my side mirror but I realise that I'm now an illegal immigrant.

The long awaited country of hot showers, green grass, petrol stations & delicious STEAK STEAK STEAK! As soon as we cross the borders after days of potholed roads, our bottoms are blessed with smooth endless tarmac and we fill gorge ourselves on culinary treats.

however, as the days creep on, we somewhat feel out of place as we hit civilisation again in our stinky tattered clothes. It's great to start experiencing creature comforts again but sadly so, I feel that our adventure is over now...

A Young Ovahimba girl in Kaokoland, Namibia

After a few repairs in the north we decide to head east to Zimbabwe to get myself a new passport as it is completely full, so South Africa is onhold.

Patting a lion in Kalkfontein, Namibia!

We headed along the Caprivi Strip, transited through Chobe National Park towards Zimbabwe, a country that we have been warned not to go to. Informed it will be hard to get fuel & food (we stock up unneccassarily with packets of pastas & numerous tins of tuna).

We hit spectacular Victoria falls on the Zim side but the financial situation in the country is mind blowing (official bank rate is $350, unofficial rate is about $26,000!!). There is daily hyperinflation up to 1000% & potentially you could end up paying a couple of hundred US$ for a dozen of eggs!!!! So we opt to exchange money illegally on the "black market". As we go to use our new currency, we get rejected as we have no official receipt from the bank or documents to prove we are Zimbabweans. We have to pay in US$, we even get rejected fuel in the stations! Once out of Vic falls, it was much easy.

Ultralight flight over Victoria falls

Khama II sanctuary

Caprivi Strip

We ride past many red & white painted posts with PEREGIO MINA (DANGER MINES) ontop of a skull & cross bone sign. I retell myself that I must stay on the roads when passing through Angola as the country is littered with landmines .... Warned not to even put one foot off the road to take a leak cos it could be fatal.

Opps, Rob with a nasty stack in northern Angola

The roads get worse to bad, so badly that the road has been completely washed away from the rains creating valleys and gully that are storeys high. The only relief is a narrow goat track off to the sides. We round one corner where Rob's picked a skinny track, as its gets narrower and narrower, he's pannier clips the edge of the hard wall sending him flying far over a washed out section. Rob's lying on the ground & I panic as he has no movement. A few seconds later, he moves with great relief but hence we now have a bike stuck in an arkward position. It takes a mighty weight lifting effort from the both of us with everything off to get the mothership back upright again....pheww These are some of the worst roads I have ever seen!!

We are all extremely exhausted from the heat & tough riding, why didnt we go the Matadi way? Rob's feeling a bit worst for wear but we all are, so we motor on. As we get to a northern town, Rob is no better. He weak, exhausted & develops a fever, on top of not knowing where to sleep for the night. We result to the local police station, getting there just in time as it starts to pour with torrential rain, couldn't come at a worst time.

I awake one morning frightened to hear an Angolan police officer beating the crap out of a pleading prisoner right next to me and I realise I dont know where I am. I lay there a still as a stunned mullet until Rob comes and fetches me and it sinks in I'm in Angola. 4 days we spent in a dark, dingy floor of an Angolan police station as Rob has confirmed Malaria. The roof was riveted with gaping holes so when it poured with rain we had to sleep beside filling buckets & wet floors. Poor Rob is shivering & all i want is a nice bed for him. Luckily we met an italian doctor who came regularly to check on our Rob

Sudoku here? small angolan town

After recuperation Rob is back on his feet, we ride through gorgeous green rolling hills & pass through old run down portugese colonial towns. I'm amazed at how lush the land is but they dont grow much except maize and potatoes (lucky if you find tomatoes)

Lucky Rob with 2 naked women

Oblivious to the news around us, we recieve emails from family & friends stating there are serious troubles in the capital of the democratic republic of Congo, Kinshasa. We find out there have been violence & shooting, where many people have been killed. Brazzaville & Kinshasa must be the 2 closest capital cities in the world, divided only by a river. Locals tell us days before, they could hear gunfire from across the river but they all reassure us its all settled now & hence the ferry is still running. So off we go.

It's a complete gluepot

The ferry is absolute a haven for manic kaos, there no order & crowded with people everywhere. People coming on, off, sneaking off the boats. A blind man clutches dearly onto his son's shirt so they don't get separated amongst the crowd. As we try & get on, someone of authority carrying a whip, uses it desparately try & part the human traffic of sweating couriers carrying all sorts to let us. After dodgey affairs on both side, we ride through the Gombe district (where all the fighting took place), appearing safe & normal. I did, however spot a blown up car & destroyed building outside an embassy.

Brazzaville to Kinshasa ferry

We assumed the roads are fantastic on a short cut to Angola avoiding Matadi, it's about 100 kms. but alas alas..... the rains have poured, small puddles have become big puddles, big puddles have become swimming pools filling the uneven potholes everywhere! Gee whizz, its very muddy & slippery. We never anticipated the roads to be this bad & now realise why people take the Matadi route. Horrendously washed out creating large valleys & ridges. We past 2 trucks, one submerged & the other filpped. Passengers stranded for days.

Courageous Rob's with the heaviest bike goes in front to help with picking the best path so we dont get stuck. A few times the unpredictable paths get the better of us and we bellow into the slush with no other solution but to heave it out slowly. We are lucky to make it through even though it takes us 4 days of solid riding to get to Maquela De Zombo.

I am half woken by a low humming buzz, i open my eyes to see that the sun hasn't broken the skyline yet as its still very early in the morning. I recollect that last night, we found a camp past a sign that sais 'entry prohibited', right next to the dense Gabon rainforest. I see a fly on top of our tent but am not bothered, so fall back to blissful sleep. Minutes later, I am awoken again by the same buzz, but it's somewhat louder. I take a closer look, realising the buzz is not the byproducts of flies but bees! They are increasing in numbers, and fast. We have to pack everything as quickly as possible as soon, they are in hundreds. They swarm us, they are everywhere! in our tent, roll bags, panniers, jackets & helmets. I cant sit on my seat to ride off as its a newly found beehive. Rob tries to move my bike but incidently gets stung on the finger, which blows up his whole hand (he can't bend his fingers to pull the brakes on). We have to run down the street to try to debee ourselves.........
(Amazing, or unamazingly the same scenario happen again the next morning 300km away from the original sight.)

fallen trees stop us on our goat track paths

After Poubara falls & walks over raging rapids on a traditional vine bridges made by locals we head to The Congo. We ride all days through tough roads (if you can call them roads), the rainy seasons have started, so its slippery, muddy, chocolate slush on the road, it's getting dark & we have no place to stay... The Africa Twin then gets stuck in a glue pot, proving too heavy for the 2 of us to get out. As we are attempting to pull it out, 3 ladies dressed in beautiful traditional clothing come round the corner carrying babies & buckets on their heads. They gracefully stand in the mud to help us pull the mothership out. In strain, I realise that 2 of the women look over 60!!!! Amazing agility.

We hit MUD MUD MUD, its a gluepot

We hit the equator....to the southern hemisphere

Its very dark after we find the next village, but the extremely friendly chief offer us a traditional mud hut to stay in for the night. So they set up a tarp over wooden slates with a holey mosquito net. Tinned meat for dinner mmmmmm

Bushmeat on the menu for a local we passed

A shower by the river with enquisitive kids

Its a long side trek of nearly an extra 2000kms but we we give it the thumbs up to head to Central African Republic to go trek the lowland gorillas! We think the roads are tarmac but Mary Mary, oh the contrary! Long bumpy corrugations & dirty dusty roads. With the extra strain on the bikes, we think twice about whether we have made the right decision.

The poverty becomes more evident, old shacks held together by thin straw & crumbling mud walls. People seem more filthy, pigs, goats & flu infested chickens run across the road missing our tyres.... this is real central africa.

pygmees by the road

Central African Republic, just past the border

After eating more dust & surviving the manic logging roads with dangerous oversized speeding trucks we make it to the border. What a haven for corruption, every police, customs, gendarmarie, vaccination officials ask us for money, its supposedly the 'formalities'. I refuse to pay, getting quite tedious the more checkpoint we go through.

At one particularly bad checkpoint, they tell us sternly 'get off your bikes' & hold us in the straw huts for what seems like forever. We start to get fed up with the usual questions & red tape when suddenly a rude drunken police officer threatens us with a rifle tells us to 'shut your mouth' & give him money. I then bravely inform them that not to mess with Rob as he is a very important man in Australia, a high official and we don't have any money! I even show them an expired commonwealth bank card, stating it's a credit card to pay for things. A sober official inspects the card upside down & eventually gives us the okay to leave. Phewww.

We found another way to clean the air filter.

Its so up & down, the officials are frustrating but the local people will wave frantically & smile as we ride past, giving us an invigorating feeling. As we ride over hills of beautiful open plains, we see silhouettes up ahead, reassuring us there are people around to ask directions to Dzanga Sangha National Park. As we approach closer, something seems different, they're carrying spears in their hands & scantily covered in simple clothes...... I pull up & relalise that its a tribe of pygmees! (& he only comes up to my wing mirrors). I can now say that I am officially taller than a pygmees as my friends use to call me.

A typical pygmee house

Pygmee

We are told when we arrive that we cannot take our motorbikes into the National Park due to fear for our safety, we beg & plead with them. The chief tells us that its okay as long as we sign an agreement that we'll take our own responsibility & that we must have a guide with us. Agreed, our guides, being pygmees. So my first ever passenger (& pygmee) hangs on for dear life of over 60kms of difficult muddy, narrow & sandy tracks.

We trek through the thick dense jungle passing large saline pans hosting an array of wildlife - duikers, wild pigs, bongo, buffaloes deers & about 80 forest elephants at the same time.... A pure sight of natural wildlife. We then trek further into the forest & there we spot our first sight of the enormous silverback gorilla with 13 other females & juveniles. We sit & watch them from an extremely close distance for a few hrs.

only metres away from the lowland gorillas

the many forest elephants spotted at a saline opening

After our hit of wildlife, we cruise back to Cameroon on 'roads' that aren't even on the Michelin maps. We have to cross 2 rivers, one with a barge but as we approach the next barge, we are told it is no longer in action..... shite, We can't turn back, so what do we do? A few locals say that the only way we can get across is via pirogue (traditional dug out canoe), "no way, its too risky, if the bike falls in, its the end of the trip" but it starts to rain & realise we have no other option. So reluctant & nervously so, we unpack the bike whilst the locals balance the bikes across the raging la fleuve... errrkkkk

Stranded between 2 rivers with a broken barge, we have no other choice but to leave the Baja in the hands of locals!!!

Nerve wrecking

entertaining the children in a remote CAR village

We enter in the north of Cameroon near Lake Chad, where its barren desert like landscape but this changes dramatically every few kms you ride. From dusty red sand to thick green rainforest through high plateaus & mountain ranges! What a gem this country is.

The spectacular ring round around Bamenda

Right in the north, motorbikes are refused entry into Waza national park, so we result to hiring a big old blue ute with the worst suspension to man. We are then subjected to 6 hrs of standing up, whilst being thrown around in the back like inside a washing machine (not to mention the numerous times the ute konked out & a puncture in the tyre) but it all payed off when we spotted a herd of giraffes running gracefully. We wait by a lake bed silently to watch them drink in their arkward split-like front leg positions.

thirsty giraffe in Waza National Park

Dusty red baja

Little tricky ring road

Tarmac or piste? sore buns? daily dilemmas of which road to take..... It's piste we decide to head along the Nigerian border to Rhumseki & see the gigantic 'Kapseki' peaks like structures. The dirt roads are better than expected & extremely calm compared to manic Nigeria but we still ride round corners to see green broken branches deliberately placed on the road, followed by another one behind it. This is the African way for 'caution, broken down Lorry, semi, truck, bus, car...... whatever ahead' (& usually with people sleeping underneath it)

Some tea pickers amongst the eversogreen plantations

one of the wells we stop at to refill our water supply.

We hear about a spectcular ring road around Bamenda that we want to ride, but we have also heard that its impassable in parts. Do we or don't we? Rob & I discuss that we don't need to go looking for adventure anymore as it's more unneccessary stress on the bikes. The general wear & tear we don't want so we'll make it to South Africa but of course we still want to see & do all the things we want.

As I have now ridden a bike almost everyday for over 5 months, I feel I can handle most terrains so I give Rob the thumbs up. We head in from Atta/Ndu and circumnavigate anticlockwise through windy, draw dropping scenery! Rob & I are loving it, it's beautiful!

Another reason why I came on the trip as Rob cannot find anything to prop up the front tyre! I sat there for over half an hour

Another Puncture!
We are in bed before 8pm, up just before the sun rises to hear Rob cooking oats & bananas, his new food obsession! We are trialling a our new mosquito net invention constructed with our tent poles, which works a treat!

A beautiful camp in the old Kimbi Game reserve around the ring road

Further south we go, making it to the Limbe on the coast below Mount Cameroon! We are exhausted but decide to take the 3 day challenge! talk about butt crunching stuff, we ascend to 4095m above the clouds to minus degrees celius weather. It's extremely tough on a different level but persevere & make it to the summit!!!! The best part was yet to come, the descent around horizons filled mountains ranges, walk right past erupted craters, steep hills of volcanic ashes, clamber over lava flows & camp between the craters and rainforests. What a feeling when we finished, not to mention that I can no longer feel my legs.

Climbing Mt Cameroon

sleeping huts on the Mt

Buttcrunching is finally over, We made it!

My fears about entering Nigeria have crescendo since the day I started this trip as this was the one country I didn't want to ride through. I hadn't heard a good thing about it & the more people I met, the more they warned about this volatile country. 'Do not go there', 'Be very Careful, Nigerians are very voilent, corrupt & aggressive' we even met people avoiding the country by catching a boat to Gabon or Sao Tome. I still wanted to get across it but was extremely dubious, particularly as a women. We discussed further about our route, deciding on avoiding the Southern Delta regions & heading north east up to the north of Cameroon.

Are they chasing us or helping us? Nigerian police officials

We camp in Benin near the ketou/Meko border, waking early to unsolve the mystery of Nigeria! We hit the border, Benin was a little damp uninviting mud hut across the road from a street stall where a women wipes her stale bread with a mouldy cloth. errkkk ex nay on the toast please. No probs with leaving Benin.

We actually enter Nigeria before the official immigration/customs post & an extremely lovely man directs us there with his gentle father on the back of his moped. The four of us nervously enter & sit anxiously on a wooden bench & begin to file through the usual procedures. The officers surprisingly starts asking friendly questions and even making jokes. I'm constantly told the obvious that I don't look Australian..... Japanese? chinwa? and wow, you must be strong women to ride that 'machine'.

One of them even offer their younger sister's hand in marriage to Dereck!! I think Dereck seriously considered making extra room on the back of his bike for another passenger. With the friendliest border post so far in Africa, we walked away with no bribes, no hassles, no bullets but instead smiles on my face as we head for Ibadan.

Girls with tribal scars near the border

We are reminded we are in Nigeria with the pillions of checkpoints, road blocks & noting of details blah blah blah. We eventuate to sneakingly trying to zoom past & before they have time to realise what has happened, they just decide to let us go. This proves to be quite difficult with a convoy of 4, the first 2 get through okay but the tail end charlies cop it. At one check point, the police panicked when we whizzed past, jumping into their old bunged up vehicles with rifles to try & chase us down. All hand shakes & laughs when we all turn around. Most of the official were surprisingly very pleasant along as all the paperwork is in order. A prime example of the generosity, when the BMW's starter engine konks it, 2 police sweated to push start the BMW!!!!

Finally make it to Ibadan, where we meet up with Alessandro & his wife Bernie who graciously take us in for 5 days, feeding us delicious food, drinking real expressos & lending us their drivers for an unforgettable kamakazi trip to Lagos. Lets just say I'm glad we visited Lagos in a van rather than riding on our bikes because it was insane crash derby style driving, extremely fast fast driving, no indicating, random swerves on the road, its like playinga grand Turismo! There appears to be no road rules except honk when you can.

Road side stop on a trip to manic Lagos

Stilt villages just outside Lagos

This didn't deterr us from a day of Nigerian bush riding & a trip towards Lekki beach with Alessandro on his Honda DR650 from Oz. More food and copious amounts of alcohol...... Its was great to have a snipet of a civilised world but after prolonged relaxation, we were keen to ride again! Thunderbirds are GO.

Lekki beach

We sadly farewell hot showers & king sized beds to head to Abuja & hence Cameroon before our visas run out. The tarmac roads are in good condition but the drivers all think they are in the Grand prix, Gee Whizz. They zoom past at ridiculous speeds, overtake at the worst times & we even got run off the road twice! I am reminded frequently how easy it is to have an accident when we pass the hundreds of car, bus, trucks & van wrecks along this road. It's a hair raising car highway graveyard .

A brief road stop on the way to Abuja, Kamakazi highway

Safely make it to Abuja with no scratches, we head straight to the Angolan Embassy as we hear that Libreville, Gabon are no longer issuing visas and within a few hrs with visas in our hands, we then head to the Congo Embassy, another 15 mins later we leave with 2 visas. We ride to the Sheraton's as we heard that you could camp for free in the carpark but it's a derelict concrete enclave. We decide we would prefer to ride out of town and camp in a village, but only to be stopped by a TV production manager working for NTA, The Nigerian Television Authority. We then get filmed riding through their carpark & asked a whole range of questions about what the hell we are doing riding a bike through Nigeria.

Outside the grand mosque in Abuja

NTA, Nigeria television Authority head quarters in Abuja!

After our brief celebrity moment in Abuja, we head further north to the beautiful Jos plateau & as the further north we go, here comes the desert again! I never really expected it to be so dry but here we pass a small lake bed with hundreds of camels drinking. An amazing sight to see.

collecting their daily water, they were just as intrigued by us as we were of them

Wiki warm springs, great after not showering for days!

We meander through Togo & Benin, homeland to Voodoo or locally known as juju & back to Franco phone speaking country. We discover Fan milk bicycle riders with delicious icecream on the go, which is a great way to beat the swealtering heat! We rest in Lome for 5 days visiting Toni Togo daily to fiddle with the bikes to make them into tip top shape & purchasing brand new tyres! We meet inspiring Michel, listening to his stories about being one of the first Africans to ride in the Paris to Dakar.

Riding pass the usually loaded trucks

Fanmilk Icecream on the go

joke we played on Del

We discuss the direction of our route through Africa, with concerns about entering Nigeria. Most people we've met have warn us DON'T GO THERE, avoid it! Hearing frightening first hand stories about why we shouldn't go.. and be extremely careful!!! So what do we do? find an alternative route or we find out for ourselves why this country gets such a bad reputation........ we decide the latter to spice up our adventure!

We are on our way to NIgeria!

Dereck, me, Michel & Rob at Toni Togo

We hike through Mole National Park with our guide PK, we quietly tip toe past an elephant to watch a herd of them bath in the waterhole. It's a little suspicious as it lifts it trunk to smell us as we are upwind. After awhile it doesn't seem to be bother & joins the rest of the elephants in the water. Meanwhile, another elephant nicknamed 'Action' is circling us, PK tells us to back off as we are in a slightly vunerable position. 'Action' gets a little closer, so PK throws a few sticks to deter it but again we are told to get further back. The boys then start to throw sticks too but the elephant keeps coming forward and then it starts to charge us...... PK nervously loads his rifle and BANG! The elephant lifts its tail, flaps his ears and runs off.

up close in Mole National Park

which one's Dumbo?

Our first siting of WILD elephants in northern Ghana.

Lucky for our guide, PK the elephant ran far away and we didn't get flattened! We walked back up the hill with jelly legs as it settles in what just happened to then find another elephant leaning against a tree, but don't worry this one's the harmless one nicknamed 'people's friend'

me, PK (our lifesaving guide), Rob, Leo and Dereck after our elephant charge (the friendly one in the background)

I awake early & decide to walk to spot some elephants from the viewing platform, as I talk to another traveller, 'people's friend sneaks right up behind me! I watch & marvel at this gigantic creature only just metres away eating the leaves from the tree beside us! After his leafy meals, you wouldn't believe it but the elephant wlks over & drinks from the nearby pool, something I didn't expect to see in Africa.

An elephant nicknamed 'people's friend' sneaks up on me in my pyjamas

We didn't believe it until we saw it!!!!!!!!

After an our amazing wildlife experience, sand, surf & coconuts here we come. We are desparate to get to the coast for a change in scenery & atmosphere & that's what we get. We head to Axim, Dixcove for a bit of circle work on the beach & Kakum National Park treetop canopy walk.

Lake Botsutwi

Canopy walk

Mucking around in Lake Volta

The humid heat is starting to soar and its unbearable hot to stop riding and even worse at night with next to no breeze. We head to Wli waterfalls, the highest in West Africa and wow what a sight...surrounded by millions of bats nearby, the water crashes down (and it's the dry season), we then head into our next new country.

a paddle in Wli waterfalls, the highest in West Africa

Rob spotting wild elephants!

Thar she blows, the Harmattan over the dusty roads towards Ouagadougou. I'm handling the bike on an angle & squint my eyes to avoid getting sand in my vision. Its a long hard day of riding but we push ourselves to make the distance we planned. Thirsty, dirty and with a mouth full of sand, we arrive to Ouaga exhausted.

playing in mounds of cotton in Western Burkina Faso

Hay carrying cyclist on some remote dirt road

We chilled in relaxed Ouagadougou whilst waiting for the troubled bikes to arrive from Mali as Leo & Dereck arrive by public transport. We spend over a week ordering bread from the balcony, eating at a cheap local restaurant & drinking condensed milk coffees. After the bikes finally arrive, the convoy diminishes back to the original team of Rob & I as Leo & Dereck head to Lome, Togo to fix their bikes.

Cannes Sucre, fields of sugar cane near Banfora

Rob & I head to Boromo to spot elephants by the river but disappointedly so, no Dumbo sited, just their grassy remains.

elephant spotting in Boromo

We head further west to Banfora, where we board a sinking pirogue (buckets of waters scooped over the edge) on Lake Tengrela & spot hippos surprisingly close. We climb the Domes of Fabedougou (which are almost identical to the Bungle Bungles in Oz), see the pics of Sindou & swim in the nordic fresh Karfiguela waterfalls.

Lake Tegrela near Banfora

Hungry hungry hippos

Domes of Fabedougou

We decide to reunite with the boys at Mole National Park in Ghana when and if their bikes get fixed, so that's where we are heading.

Its always a refreshing change when you enter a new country and the fact that we are now heading south reenergises our determination and spirits. The scenery is relatively the same but gradually the green trees are replaced by cactus and red DUST, remindng us we are heading back to the desert! We don't anticipate the journey that lies ahead of us & the troubles we're to come across through the desert!

Rob & a little cheeky Malian girl

We rest in Bamako, where it turns out to be a haven for other motorcyclists and hence we now have doubled our convoy. Leopoldo, a spanish on R100GS BMW and Dereck, an Englishman on KTM640 conjure a great team of now 4. Whilst in Bamako, the boys decide to buy new dirt tyres aswell as Rob & I both manageing to get punctures, so it's out with the tyre levers to dedicate the day to tyre changing (I think it was a total of about 15 to 20 with pinched tyres and lifted patches)

trying to find the punctures

After some serious sweat & frustration, Rob realises that one of his prized tyre lever is missing!!!! he's utterly dissappointed and its nowhere to be found, fearing that someone has stolen it - Rob offers an award for its return......but no luck. All Rob wanted for xmas is his tyre lever back.

Cute girls following me around a local mosque

After a few days rest, we leave Bamako but within 5 mins both Leo & Dereck have troubles with their front wheel/steering. We get instant 'side of the road' mechanics to have a look assuming the tyres are not popped out of the bead. After some soap suds & readjusting, we head offroad to Djenne, meanadering through little gorgeous villages towering with the unique Mali mud mosques. Strangely, the KTM falls inferring there is still something wrong with the handlebars or front wheel - we think nothing of it, just telling him jokingly he's a bad rider!

Crossing parts of the Niger river to get to Tombouctou

Next day, its Xmas and it's been 300km offroad since Bamako. The tracks get quite sandy & dusty where we have to ride far apart for relief. We somehow get lost, proving impossible to find our way out as the locals point us in all sorts of directions. These places are obviously not use to foriengers but the children surround happily & we take photos of them. We finally all relieved to hit a red hard surfaced road! As we rest under a shady tree, Leo spots an unusal object sticking out of Derecks front tyre, he then casually sais 'Hey, Rob, I think we found your tyre lever!' and sure enough there was Rob's 300mm tyre lever sticking out on both end through Dereck's front tyre!!!! we can't believe it, Merry bloody Xmas

a 300mm tyre lever embedded into Dereck's KTM

Dereck take this extremely well with his dry english humour, we paid some local to get the tyre fixed in the nearest town with inner rubber linings and we place zip ties to provide extra support.

Tyre fixed by a local Africa

zip ties solution

That night we camp on a white claypan & have German ham for xmas dinner. We swap bikes to test ride on the flat claypan, I'm exhilarated by riding Rob's Africa Twin & Leo's R100GS BMW - blew my hair away!!

one of our camps

When we thought our troubles were over, we didn't realise that the KTM's tyres were just the beginning. We have now discovered water in the engine, producing milky liquid & we're in the middle of nowhere! No idea what the problem is, we drain the water from the radiator & constantly change the oil so the engine doesn't konk itself. As we ride down the road, the bike overheats..... we prevail slowly as we have to get it to the closest town.

Draining milky oil from the KTM

We make it to Douentza, where Dereck leave his bike and awaits spare parts from Germany whilst Rob, Leo & I ride to Tombouctou. 195kms of sandy corrugations & DUST DUST DUST but it's all worth it to get to the Niger river & the infamous Tombouctou!

heading to sandy Tombouctou

Surrounded completely, can you spot me?

Dereck decides to ride his bike slowly to Ouagadougu, Burkina Faso as this is the closest town the parts can sent to. So here we go, the harmattan blows over so its hard to see what lies ahead as we head to the dogon country. We agree that Rob leads, Leo & Dereck in the middle whilst I am tailend charlie as I am the only one who can pick up my own bike! The montainous Dogon country is spectacular but we find it hard to take it in as the roads are difficult to navigate, Dereck falls a few times. I round a corner to see the KTM down, Dereck too - fearing he is caught underneath it & his left pannier bent on an angle. I run up hoping everything is ok, Dereck is swearing obscenities! I now realised that he is okay but the fuel tap has snapped & petrol was spurting everywhere, so now useless to get off the bike, he now has his finger jammed in the fuel tap to stop the flow. We fill the flowing juice into jerry cans & patch up the broken tap. We're all exhausted & tired, trying to find a place to camp. An hour or two later, we very randomly ride into a barrage of tents, which turns out to be a running group from Europe, with an amazing one-legged motorbike mechanic - talk about travellers luck!

Malian

Then Leo discovers a loose drive shaft on his BMW, broken bearings & more troubles. After a day of grease & fending off local kids, we ride slowly to Yougana & spend News Years Eve with the spanish tradition of eating grapes on each gong & sleeping under a straw shed with the wind still blowing. The next day, we are distracted temporaily when we take a hike through the Dogon country & amazing ancient Tellem villages in the mountains.

So refreshed after our hike, we head towards Burkina Faso, Dereck's taking it easy & again I am riding last. 6km from Yougana, we come to a halt after Leo stops suddenly. He is obviously okay but something in his expression tells me its not all okay. He points to his drive shaft revealing a huge crack right through it, again our luck continues! We are going nowhere fast so set up camp for the night whilst Leo doubles up in search of a donkey & cart to take to the nearest village........

Broken swing arm on the BMW drive shaft!

local donkey & cart carrying the injured BMW in the middle of Mali

Yes, you heard right after some strict rest, ice, compression and elevation of my bruised big foot we headed for Sierra Leone!! 3 months ago, if you would have said would you camp on the borders of Guinea and Sierra Leone? (where the Australian government websites tells you strictly DO NOT TRAVEL), I would have said you were mad..... but here we are sneakly hiding in the Leonian bushes to set up our tent in the dark.

Beautiful village girl

I was a wee bit dubious before arriving but very exhilarated at the thought of riding through a relatively untouched country. We found our way here after meeting 2 freelance journalist writing a guidebook about the country based in Freetown. So we obtained our visas from Guinea (US$200, well actually $210 because they wouldn't take small denominations so it costs us an extra $10 to exchange on the black market to a $100 bill! ridiculous I know)

The road to Freetown

The borders were no problems, the usual paperwork and running around trying to find the right man for the job...its a real treat that people speak english. We sit around laughing and joking with the police in a round straw hut with a SLR rifle dangling from the roof. They insist we try Poyo, the local palm wine even when we inform them we are riding.... so drink and then drive in Africa.

As we ride into Freetown, 2 policemen on a moped spot us and direct us to follow then. I'm not sure what or where we are going but they proceed to escort us through town and through the thick city traffic!!! its a nice change that they don't want anything, they just wanted to help us. We later ride around the Pennisula to whitesandy beaches and smooth tarmac road but this doesn't last long and we soon hit rusty coloured dirt roads with many little river crossings

one of the many river crossings

When we hit the last border crossing to leave Sierra Leone after treachous rough roads that lasted a few hours, the immigration officer tells us that we cannot get our carnets stamped there as it back 41 miles!!! After some serious convincing that ended with the only solution of Rob stripping off his panniers and riding back to the customs post. As he is about to ride off, a soldier requests a lift with his backpack and live chicken. So off Rob goes with a leonion soldier as I wait at the post entertaining the police for hours.

Rob at the border post, where he had to tediously ride back 130kms back to customs to get our carnets stamped!!!!

Follow Rob as well on his site on www.hardwayhome.blogspot.com click links to our photos, our route and place comments!

We pass men with machetes, women with stacks of hay balanced perfectly on their heads, young children clasping their mother's dress as we ride past in these remote villages. They stare at first with absolute shock & bewilderment until we wave & they smile back genuinely. In one day, I nearly hit a dog sleeping in one of the potholes, 2 chickens, a pig and a snake jumps near my bike...

Tracks along to Varela

Our destination was Varela, a seaside village that is meant to be as nice as Capskiring but less people... they were right, there was no one there & the visitors book hadn't had anyone since 2002. No running water or electricity. As we ride to get there, we get halted by the only bridge that gets us there as it is broken... Gee whizz. They assure us not to worry and that the bridge will be ready by 3pm, Rob and I look at each other with gestures of noway in hell as its already 2.30pm and they are banging in supprt stumps by hand. We then see a yellow object in the water and realise it's a truck that never made it to the other side (told later that a rice truck fell off in the middle of the night months ago)

Real adventures now, how we got over still baffles me

So 3pm comes and we strip everything off the bikes to make them as light as possible and Rob nervously gets both bikes over planks of wobbly wood with the help of guniea bissauian in nothing but daxs!

classy underwear, i couldn't help but smile

Rob stomach churns as he leads the Africa Twin across, can you spot the truck!

a worker resting on the sunken truck

We head to Bissau & eventually track down a fellow Aussie & her husband we've never actually met before ( Lovely Cassandra & Steve who are working on demining projects here). Their generous hospitality leads us to fantastic showers, toasted ham & cheese sandwiches, beers and even their maid wash our filthy bike clothes. We have vegemite for bfast and reminsce about cherry ripes, chicken parmi and twisties!

The following day, Steve takes us out to show us the workings of demining. We casually walk past warheads & watch explosives placed underneath sandbags. I'm a little nervous & Steve calms me down by telling me there are Black Mambas around! We retreat to the road waiting........and BOOOOM, I jumped & one of the UN workers burst into fits of laughter about how I reacted.

Warheads and Mortars

We ride for a few hours as the sun sets trying to find a place to camp. People everywhere, so we can not descretely camp. We decide to take a dirt track for a few kms hitting a serene untouched little village. We talk to the chief and he kindly invites us to camp overnight. The word gets around and the whole town has come to see these two strange foreigners on motorbikes. As they all crowd around, we amuse them by setting up our tent, and as the pole get erected, there are echoes of ohh and arrrh. We later sit by the campfire making the kids laugh by making silly noises, as the communication is very limited as we don't speak Pulai or Portugese & they don't speak any French or English. We teach them our names and evidently I am "Amy" but Rob is "and Lob" because they have difficulties saying R's. The next morning as we say our thanks and goodbyes, a villager orders his son to fetch his gun and shots a hawk with another BANG in the tree above where we were camped.

pounding millets in the early morning

We hit Guinea, seemingly even more remote with lush dense vegetation and mountainous backdrops. We pass children that see us with fright, drop everything and RUN.... we attempt not be monsters and wave but they have already run into the bushes hiding from the road's view. We then ride through the Fouta Djalon region, immersing in spectacular treks through the likes of Grand Canyon and Indiana Jones. The rainy season has just finished so the roads are atrociously washed away, and there is red dust sugar coated everywhere!

A cameleon I nearly ran over!

As the daybreaks, the sun creeps over the mountains with intense orange and we ride into Conarky to obtain onward visas. I love riding at the time of the day as there is no traffic, less people and the air has a certain freshness to it. As we get closer to the pennisula, the scenery flatten out, more towns, funneling more people and hence more traffic. Rob's in front weaving in and out of traffic and I'm tail end charlie. There doesn't seem to be any written rules about how to drive in Guinea except Might is Right. I'm riding beside a small car and it suddenly swerves towards me, I quickly swerve with it so I don't get side swiped. I look up and see oncoming traffic as I am on the other side of the road (usually the cars part in the middle for mopeds and bikes but not today) I start frantically beeping my oversoloud 250cc horn, so I'm stuck in a moments decision to either pull back or give it some and squeeze through the gap. I realise that I was too far forward and stopping would have meant direct impact so I try the latter. I rev the baja towards oncoming traffic and am somewhat relieved that I made it through the gap but then a loud......BANG. Rob hears the impact as it was so loud but he thinks I am okay as I still managed to be on my bike. I again frantically beep as I realised I have been hit, the pain seeps in and i am in agonising pain with the fear my foot is broken. I start to panic as I cannot help but think I have ruined our trip. Due to shock, I didn't even realise that the impact had complelety ripped my left pannier off rolling it underneath the small car (could have been me). Rob recollects it as a nearby officer helps me off my bike by clutching me around my breast and hauling me onto the ground. Even in this bad situation, I still found this quite comical. People crowd aimlessly, I remove my trusty Colorado boots and smelly sock as he pokes and prods my ankle and I yelp in pain. A squad of police arrive but cannot do anything as we have no recollection of any number plate and I refuse to go to hospital after our Rob's scare in The Gambia. 20mins later, with a self diagnosis of no broken bones (perhaps fracture) and a nasty nasty bruise, I hop back on my Baja and ride painfully through more traffic to the Catholic Mission where we are staying.

Whilst we wait and wait for our Senegalese visas at the embassy after hours of arduous pigeon english/french translations. Rob and I sit quietly like school children next to an official desk that looks like a table used at a b'day party with a tiedyed cloth, 2 plastic chairs, a 80's phone and a crumbled up senegal tourism poster tacked on by a single piece of bluetack.

Alas, we eventually get told that visas will not be ready until Monday (5 days away)!!! Monday comes, again we get turned away to come back later, increasing frustration but we try to remain patient. Finally, we filed into a room where we watch a man silently for 20 mins proudly glue stamps into our passports and then Senegal, here we come!

village girls meandering near st louis

We avoid the notoriously bad Rosso border and hit the Diama borders off road but it's still full of money hungry corrupt officials, Rob is quite calm but I get quite aggitated and refuse to pay money (am told it could get us into trouble) and our Mauritania insurance ran out by 4 days as we had to wait for our Senegalese Visa. We then get faced with our first bribe! The customs officials asks for our expired insurance, Rob and I pretend to fumble for it to stall time but it doesn't work. He tells us "if you give me 10 Euros, I turn a blind eye, you ride through" so we pay up.

At the border, we managed to catch the officials at lunch so the border subsequently gets closed for an hour and a half, we then get subjected to "offer me a soft drink" when it reopens for an official stamp. What the!!! we say we have no money as all the police have fleeced us dry so he slams our passports on the table and lets out a huge sigh gesturing us to leave......

local boys mucking about

Senegal! We stay south of St Louis for 6 days relaxing in a national park, kayaking and learning how to windsurf. We privledged that we get invited to a local's house for dinner. I play local fooze ball - African style with the family, comprised of a cardboard box, long sticks with cut up bits of rubber thongs (flip flops for those of you with dirty minds) as players. Fits of laughters. We sit in a hot dimly lit room with about 20 kids all wanted to talk and play with us. The poverty that these people live in really makes you realise how lucky we are, and in some strange way unlucky aswell.

africa baby

After relaxation we take another piste towards Lac Rose/Rebta (Lake Rose) where the Paris to Dakar rally officially ends. It was only 16kms but yet bloody hard work. Ruts of interwining sand tracks, uneven grounds, arcacia trees with puncturing thorns and grass that was hittng the top of my helmet as I ride through. We take a short break as we pass a lively village with blaring music and women dressed in beautiful clothing - turned out to be a wedding! What a sight to see.

Pink salt waters in Lac Rose, where the official paris to rally ends

We decide to stay at the 'most expensive' hotel in Senegal with a pool, dunes and the lake in the background and laze around with some mad dutchmens. We ride towards Dakar, dodging absolute manic traffic....... Arc De Triomphe eat your heart out! We managed to stay in a hotel and later find out it doubles up as a brothel on the first floor (Rob & I reminisce for those of you who know our story)

hand or feet carvings

We cross to The Gambia border, which surprisingly is a breeze compared to our last border. No bribes, no hassles, carnets stamped in & out. We ever get given a raspberry slushy to drink from one of the officers & people speak english! All documents completed, we start to ride off only to be stopped suddenly & told we cannot go anywhere until 2pm because its National Clean Up The Gambia day.
At 2pm, its a national rat race to the ferry to Banjul.

women in a remote village

We board the barge along with huge old trucks & are directed to the side gunnels. Rob's AT is parked amongst a pile of wooden planks & an oil drum. A huge truck proceeds to squeeze forward omniously & crunches Rob's panniers! Rob & I are frantically banging & yelling at the truck driver to stop as he continues to go forward. People start to crowd & yelling begins, I get told not to stand where I am cos the trucks usually have no brakes & I could have been crushed..... I lose it & have a heated argument with the barge driver cos they wanted to continue moving the truck forward, hence crushing Rob's pannier. The concept to move the truck back, so we could then move the bike over so they truck could move forward easily was way to hard a concept for them to fathom. Eventually, oil drum was lifted up with help of friendly locals, bike ok, truck moves forwards.

curious kids peering at us

On our 1st night in Sukuta, Rob had a bout of diarrhoea before bed. Later, he awakes in the middle of the night with hot & cold shivers & a very high fever. I get worried & watch him vigilantly, I even wake the night watchmen to get a taxi but he sais there are no taxi at this time. Morning comes, Rob is no better.
Taxi to the nearest hospital, which turns out to be a maternity health centre in a small village! The disinterested doctor diagnoses him with food poisoning & gives him some tablets for diarrhoea. Rob's in agonising pain, I rush to get him fanta as this is what the doctor has prescribed. An hour later, the fever doesn't settle & the doctor then suspects malaria with the formal test of touching his forehead. I request a blood test. It's negative but they start him on a course of malaria treatment, comprising of a shot in his arse because they don't want the risk of a tourist dying in their country. Rob becomes even more unwell, sweating & vomiting profusely (one time it was orange from the fanta). I decide he needs better medical treatment & we get an ambulance to Banjul Royal Victoria Hospital. The ambulance driver randomly puts on the siren when he feels like it & we drive madly over bumpy dirt roads, near missing people, donkeys & traffic. I look over & see poor Rob bouncing high off the stretcher whilst he's still groaning. I start to lose patience when the ambulance drivers wants to stop in the petrol station to pay for the fuel........"drive & I pay you!, just drive to the hospital" I'm thinking how thick can these people be. Triage, more tests. They start him on another course of IV Malaria treatment... A concotion of drugs later, Rob is nauseas but funnily enough demands they use the smallest needles as they just ram it in. Rob is feeling only slightly better. After the IV Quinine drip, they send us home. Rob vomits again before he gets into the ambulance & we head home praying he's ok.

Maternity ward, Sukuta

After Rob recovering fully, we head to the southern part of Senegal, the Casamance region. Lush, green and an abundance of flora and fauna, we head to a small village along goat tracks that cars wouldnt be able to go down. Stay in am Impluvium, a round mud hut that was used for shelter & saftey during the war. Next destination, Guinea Bissau

Tan Tan, the gateway to the Western Sahara

We enter The Western Sahara with long stretches of straight monotonos tarmac with only some sprayed painted rocks and random people to break up the journey. We are now travelling with Chris (aka the rain man) & Natasha, Germans on BMW 650 GS & Dakar. We get stopped quite often by Gendamarie Royals that ask for our passports, professions and what seems like useless details that the last officer asked 2km back. We get so fed up that eventually we say we are in a Dakar rally (even though its not on until Jan) and they frantically wave us through!

hope there are no landmines anywhere, camping in Western Sahara

We camp on this amazing boomerang shaped sand june and awake early the next day for the Mauritania border. First stop, we get waved to the front of the line, it seems like island time in these countries and it wasn't until Rob points to our passports amongst piles of African ones that they guy starts to process them.

camping in the junes

We then ride through no mans land off road and I start to get a strange feeling that we, in the western world are not use to as I read earlier that along this road, tourist have been killed before from landmines just a few metres off the track. More paperwork and waiting around, we single file into the dodgiest rooms whilst another man is cooking fresh liver in a side room. Let me into Mauritania! exploitation of money for visas as it's a different price for everyone. We see a bureau de change office in a run down old van that you would expect to purchase hotdogs from in a fair. When you think you have gotten through a checkpoint, there's another one 200m down the road..... more money and details. Last checkpoint is insurance in another old beat up caravan. As we wait, we gaze at a train going pass on the 'le train du desert' with a camel on the last carriage to be then approached by a guy who gets a little insulted as we don't speak french, he then pulls up his cloak to reveal a sharp knife and mutters something in arabic.... it wasn't until another older man comes over to calm this guy down that I breath again. All checks clear and into Nouadhibou, Mauritania. Camel steaks for dinner!

We stop off by the beach in Dakla to check my oil, to then be approached by a Kiwi guy who asked 'You wouldn't happen to be Amy, would you?' shocked that Blair had heard about us from other travellers (he even had our emails). We later teamed up with Blair & Kati to do the 540km piste along the railway line from Nouadhibou to Atar and agreed that we wouldn't do it alone. We are very grateful to B&K as we would not have been able to do this piste without help carrying extra fuel & water for us in the grand mother ship!

The slowest and longest trains in the world

We ride south along the railway as the north is bordered with land mines. It's hard work, concentration plus. I'm constantly dodging things and trying to judge the surface. Sand sand and more sand, Rob & I have fun rolling over these huge dunes with Blair & Kati 4WD in the distance. We take turns in getting bogged or falling off. Problems with the Baja.......it won't start! 3 busted fuel filters, shite in the carby and broken seat brackets. What a place to get stranded. Rob & Blair go to work whilst Kati & I laugh about bikes and cars. A french humanitarian aid worker stops and gives us her stocking as a new fuel filter. Thunderbirds are go!

performing open heart surgery on the Baja in the middle of nowhere

Riding the sand junes, I think I'm beating Rob!

We stop in these remote villages and we pour well water from cut out petrol containers over ourselves as its 41 degrees. This village is built on train sleeper and flattened out oil drums. We watch a newborn baby camel take its first steps, see the second biggest monolith in the world (Uluru is the first) and play with the local kids. We free camp in the beautiful Saharan desert and I am awe where I am!

sleeping under the stars

We make it to Atar completely exhausted but in high spirits that we've made it, 4 cold cokes Sil vous plait! We rest, play with kids in the street by racing old tyres and kicking a deflated soccer ball.

We then head for oasis towns - Chinguetti (the 7th holiest city of the islamic world) and Tirgit for a few days. We decide to take the old route aka the Amogjar pass and boy was this a shock of a piste. An absolute beautiful part of the world but we both agreed that its the hardest ride we've done so far (and didn't expect it). The road dips, strips of sand and rocks on narrow tracks ascending up the mountain with hairpin drops to tracks that were either not there or completely covered in rocks the size of your computer screen. We crunched through scraping the underbodies of the bikes and rocks hit us at speeds that nearly knock you off. We both actually have to stop and get off our bikes to assess the surface as its too difficult to pass. No turning back now. Slowly but surely we get through and I am baffled at what we have gotten through. We finally get to the new Ebou Pass lined with continous corrugations, which is heaven compared to what we have been through. Both agreed no more pistes for awhile..........

Amogjar pass, the old route to Chinguetti

Water, Amy..... I need Water!

Some of the treachous roads, where's that sheepskin seat cover i never bought!

We decide to head to Nouakchott in one long day from Tirjit as we are running low on fuel and Ougiyas (Mauritania $). We ride in the extreme heat in the middle of the day, I run out of fuel so we continously tip my bike onto its side to gain more fuel stuck on other side of tank. This gets a bit tiresome after 5 or 6 goes when the Baja konks out. Rob then comes up with the idea of towing me for the next 20kms but I get the shits as he speeds up when I tell him to slow down. So we come up with another idea of loosening my tank and as I ride I lift my tank like a cowgirl so the fuel tap gets filled. Yeeha, we ride closer to our destination but alas unbeknowst to me, I had managed to pull the fuel pipe out of the carby so when we put the last of our precious fuel in my tank 2km to the Auberge, it went straight through!!!! Tired, fed up and overheated, I egg myself to the closest petrol station to spend our last Ougiyas on 400mls of petrol. And then Voila, we finally make it.

Kids playing by side of road in Tirjit, an oasis town

Rob does need a new back tyre, Nouakchott

fishermen in Nouakchott

Rob gazing at Africa from Spain

We arrive to Cueta and make it to the Spanish African border. We are directed to a ¨special¨ line where we get an abundance of stares, its like they have never seen a chinese women on a motorbike before. Rob is then wist away to sort out insurance, passports, paperwork etc etc whilst I am left to guard the bikes. Its chaotic, full of in your face local tauts, some guys getting beaten up, hundreds of Moroccans in their Jedi knight robes walking everywhere. I start to get worried as Rob has disappeared for longer than expected but he finally turns up with the thumbs up. We going to africa! (like Rob says, bring on the squat toilets and no bog roll)

Rob is estatic that we have made it to Africa, he has a constant smile from ear to ear that he cannot erase. The surroundings are a fresh change from Europe, there are camels on the side of the road, people sleeping in all nooks and crannies and locals constantly trying to sell us hashish and fossils whilst we ride past.

The roads are surprising in good condition but there is definitely more oil and slick. I find it hard sometimes to concentrate on the surroundings as there are so many things to look out for......donkeys, people, carts and young children that run virtually in front of your bikes to shake your hands. Generally, a great feel to this country.

A donkey in between the gorgeous blue walled Chefchaouen

We stop in gorgeous Chefchaouen in the Rif mountains and reunite with Justin, Grant and Lara (3 Aussies in campervans we met on the ferry). We roam the souks and see dangling outside a butchers shop, a fresh camels head! This area is meant to be a haven for the best hashish in the world....called "Kif from the Rif"

lunch anyone?

We see the gorgeous Erg Chebbi sand junes. Overlook guys on bikes training for the Paris to Dakar, another Africa Twin riding through the dunes (Rob is eye gazing). We also meet some lovely spaniards who let us ride their sports quad bike that had way too much power for me but what an adrenalin rush (and I managed to bog it on the uprise).

We stay in a beautiful Kasbah right against the junes with a swimming pool, all goes well except my bout of severe stomach cramps and hot/cold shivers whilst relaxing by the pool. I suddenly have to dash to the toilet with toilet paper in hand and Rob running after me to see if I am ok. All I can say is the next events involved liquid out both ends at the same time....overwhelmed and dehydrated, I faint for the first time in my life. Rob and the lovely Moroccans squeeze a half chopped onion in my face to bring me back. After some rest and fluid intake, my bowels are back to normal. Not a pleasant experience!

A Berber on the Erg Chebbi Junes

We meet other 'adventure motorcyclists' Olly (English on a Honda CBF 1000) and Mark (English on a Honda Transalps) and change our plans to ride towards Todra Gorge. We also meet 2 Germans (Andy&Axel on KTMs) who convince our posse to ride on a piste from Tinerhir to Agoudal and back to Tinerhir....even Olly, who is on a road bike! (he creates a makeshift bashplate from a camping kitchen table that worked a treat...) Its a bliss to ride without our luggage!

CBF 1000 makeshift bashplate

Piste around Todra gorge

Little nervous as this is my first offroad experience but really enjoyed it and I feel the XR Baja is perfect bike for me. It starts off easy but gradually gets harder. Pebbles become rocks, track goes up and downhill, uneven surface, water, mud, even narrow roads with high cliff dropoffs. I try and concentrate even harder and am sure I am gripping my handlebars and gritting my teeth, ocassionally telling myself to relax and let the bike do the work! I build confidence and manage well standing on the footpegs (Rob is impressed as I use to hate it). At the end of the piste, I'm going too fast and lose concentration for a spilt second - managing to direct the Baja into a family of huge rocks.. I feel like I'm riding in a rodeo but surprisingly manage to hold on until i hit the road again and crash onto my side whilst smashing my head onto some rocks. I am temporarily stuck under my bike but manage to get out... No broken bones just a bruised knee, broken left mirror and a nasty scratch on my Arai helmet.....

Amazingly steep windy roads

The Posse

I am then convinced to do another piste from Taouz to Tagounite (M6 piste by Chris Scott) with no idea what I am in for. It starts off easy with very arid but beautiful scenery. Andy decides not to join us due to a suspected fractured rib so its Rob, Axel and I. We ride over gravel with stretches of sand that get softer and more difficult. I fall a couple of times as I lose confidence but the boys just tell me to screw the throttle, so every time I hit sand I close my eyes slightly and pull my right hand back and the Baja glides me over the sand in all directions. In sand, its like the Baja has its own mind.

We then hit an Oued full of......sand, which makes us all sweat hard to get through. We all take turns falling off and getting stuck in this deep sand but there are Moroccan kids running after us to help us pick up our bikes and guide us through. We get fed up and Axel pays a kid to direct us out of the Oued and out onto some harder grounds. Phewww, we then ride across white clay pans, see wild camels, stop at wells, cross the Algerian border (by Robs GPS) and experience absolutely amazing scenery. A must do piste!

Stuck in sand, which way out?

Rob working his stuff

Then after reuniting with Andy in Tagounite for a day, we decide to do another Piste from Tagounite/M'Hamid to Foum Zguid (M7 piste by Chris Scott). We start riding to only hit another Oued but this one is alot easier and we have fun going over the sand junes. I enjoy sand now! Again spectacular scenery, no one for miles. What a great sense of achievement considering I only started riding just before this trip.

me standing and the Baja

We then meet Carl & Sylvia in Toyota Landcruiser Troopcarrier who offer to carry our luggage on another piste from Ait-Herbil to Tafroute (M12), cook us delicious meals and let us use their shower! Before we head off, we top up with Super fuel as no Sans Plomb from an old petrol station with a handpump! Ride gorgeous red/orange gorge until Rob gets his first puncture!

We ride towards the Plage Blanche to our first river crossing (where I fall in the mud) and then along the beach for 26km heating the Baja's engine. Beautiful, Yes but its hard work and constantly dodging rubbish, wooden boxes, nails and black plastic bags! We camp on a high sandjune over looking the beach and sunset.

my first water crossing

We ride offroad to Tan Tan but we hit more sand and start to run low on fuel. I nearly fall off many times and we get hit by a mini sandstorm where I cannot see past my front mudguard. I follow Rob too closely I get showered in sand when he revs it. We hit a river crossing but luckily the sand has died down and a road has been made over it. We make it to Tan Tan safely with 300mls left in Robs tank!!!!!

Ola Amigos, as we ride into beautiful spain, the terrain becomes rockier, more arid and dry, the roads appear with more cracks and potholes but the Honda Baja prevails. We ride to Barcelona and mosey past Gaudi´s Le Sagrada Familia

As we head down the east coast of "Sunny" Spain we were hit with torrential rain that flooded our camp site into streams of rivers, everything is wet!

Rob overlooking a beautiful lake in Spain, inland from Valencia

We rest and recuperate in Granada for a few days and see the infamous Alhambra.

YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT!!

On the way to Gibraltor, we discover a beautiful town hugging these enormous cliffs called Ronda in the south. As we ride, the idea of Africa becomes closer and closer and more of a reality.

GIBRALTOR in the distance

As we get new MT21 Pirelli tyres fitted in Quickfit Gibraltor, Rob discovers a broken fork seal on the Africa Twin! We frantically search all of Gibraltor and Algeciras for spares... no luck. We met a lovely guy called Paco (Frank) who helps us to translate with the non-english speaking mechanic and informs us that we have to wait 5 days for the spares and hence, Africa!!! So, Paco takes us out for delicious spanish cuisines and points us to Tarifa, a beautiful coastal town for some sun and relaxation until our spares arrive!

Here we meet some Germans and a sweet Dutch Couple and their dog (Woody) and share days of great food, sun, laughs and games of chess.

Finally 5 days and 185 Euros later, the spare fork seals arrive. The Honda Africa Twin is fixed and we head from Algeciras to Cueta via ferry!! Africa.....................the adventure begins.

Beautiful Beautiful Pyrenees! we ride through the crisp early morning air with spectacular views. A sense of not wanting to leave France, friendly people, yummy baguettes, great riding conditions, treelined roads and camping on green grass. Ridings becoming easier now, I don´t grip the handlebars as tightly!

My view of the pyrenees!

We pass an abundance of other motorcyclists on these windy roads towards Andorra - an interesting tax free haven. Spacey tall buildings, strange haircuts, bad traffic. A stern Andorra customs officer asked if we had bought anything in the city? I answer "No, just passing through" I get queer looks and I can´t work out why until Rob mentions that he was looking at new invention dryer where I had strapped my underwear to my roll bag! Espana, here we come.

We ferry it over from Dover and make it to Calais with no dramas but absolutely exhausted, so we make camp along the beach for our first night of the trip. We met a lovely english couple who were very hospitable, offering us oysters and wine for dinner! (thoughts were that my friends were thinking we were roughing it)

our first camp

We ride through gorgeous France, open windy roads, lush green hills and absolute feeling of freedom. I was amazed by how much I enjoyed riding! I did however managed a stationary stack whilst trying to take a photo of Rob and I couldn´t pick the Baja. Petrol leaking everywhere. Rob to the rescue!

A Moulin in France

We ride over the hills to see Le Mont Saint Michel, spectacular!

How very French! Baguette on a Baja........

After a manic 3 weeks back to London trying to pull everything together! I now have a wonderful Honda XR 250 Baja (that my boyfriend purchased without me even seeing it), a crash course in how to ride, pumped full of vaccinations and as prepared as you can be in 4 weeks.

I also met the lovely Paul and Zoe Jenkins who have been invaluable with information and all those handy hints, along with the laughs! Thanks for the great weekend in Salisbury (note, the Spork is going well, still harry high pants and we haven´t needed a mallet yet)

So, this is all we are taking

and Voila, it fits!

On the 15th Sept 06, we are overwhelmed by the departing committee that turned up at 18A Chelverton Road, Putney, London which left me an emotional rollercoaster of joy, fear, excitement and the unexpected travels ahead. We wave our goodbyes only to be stopped by our local red lights and a twat who tries to cut me off. Normally, I would be quite subdue but as I was on high adrenalin, I tell him where to go. We ride for 15km in the first hour, get us out of London! we ratrace through London traffic and head for Dover

2 months ago I was in Australia working on the sunny Queensland coast when my boyfriend asked me to join him on his motorbike adventure from London to Capetown.... I thought "are you kidding? I can´t even ride a motorbike!" (well my trusty Piaggio Vespa)

After some mighty convincing and been repeatedly told not to worry! I spontaneously agree to farewell Australia again (lived and worked overseas for 2 years) to begin the adventure of a life time. But how under prepared can one person be? I had 4 weeks to buy a bike, get spares, learn to ride and cram everything I need to know Africa. arrghhh

Paco (franko)
Lovely spanish guy who helped translate english to spanish to help fix Rob's forkseals in Algeciras.

Marcel & Monique The sweet dutch couple who we relaxed with in Tarifa, Spain. Playing chess, drank and ate Hagel Slag. Thanks to Marcel, we now have hemi lights for our travels! (they still havent run out yet) and of course Woody, the Siberian husky became my new buddy.

Woody

Stefan & Steffi
lovely Germans holidaying in Tarifa. Hope the wind picked up for you.

Grant, Lara & Justin (fellow Aussies) we met on the ferry to Africa! Accompanied at the border and travelled with them towards Chefchaouen and Fes. All I can say is crazy camper van driving around blind corners.

Nice one Justin! I'm still in shock

Olly Vine, this crazy valve chattering English guy on a Honda CBF 1000 road bike where we continued to bump into in Morocco. We couldn't get rid of him! but he provided with great amounts of laughter and cooked us delicious meals.

Mark or spiderman? who gratefully helped us out with the Honda guidebook when the Africa Twin was a bit worse for wear.

Axel, a Wonderban German on KTM who we travelled parts of the Moroccan pistes with. Thanks for the great lessons and looking after me!

Andy
Another Wonderban German, who cooked us bread and gave us his touratech table! Cheers, hope the ribs are better.

Carl & Sylvia, a German and Italian couple who we travelled with through parts of Morocco and Western Sahara with. Thanks for the cooked meals, carrying our luggage and letting us use your hot shower.

German couple on BMWs, Chris managed to bring the rains to the Sahara

Katti & Blair

the wonderful Kiwikraut duo in a 4WD that we travelled the Nouadhibou to Atar piste. Loved the Antipodean humour and thanks for completing a successful open heart surgery to the Baja!

Kei, a sweet Japanese man who has been hitchhiking around Africa and has been travelling for nearly a year. Good luck finding what you desired in Africa....rice and soy sauce.

Heini, Isabella and Ken
Swiss heading to Benin to start another solar energy project in Nattatingou, North Benin

Jon & claude, 2 older French guys whose information was very helpful as they have travelled all over North Africa for the last 16years

Fraser
A Thomas Cook Pilot who we meet in St Louis who has gratefully donated his back tyre to the Africa Twin.

Cassandra & Steve running Demining Projects in Guinea Bissau, kindly looked after us whilst they were extremely busy with meetings and proposals. Loved the chicken & chips..... perhaps we'll catch up again one day in Goughs Bay!

Felix The Cat, riding a BMW

David Rogue
Travelling round the world by 4WD

Mat & Doreen
Lovely English and German couple who made us laugh and told us how to say apple strudel properly

Leopoldo & Dereck