Wednesday 5thOctober: Cycling Day 4
Distance 64km
Calories burned Running
on empty
Sleep None
Level roads 0
Hilly roads Over
3,800 feet climbed
Degree of difficulty 10/10
Misery factor Rock bottom
Lowlight of the day Soaked
to skin pushing broken bike into town
Africa being Africa, timing
is always a bit elastic. I doubt even
Mussolini could make the trains run on time here – not that there are any
trains, lack of track being a major disadvantage on that score. In our case, the timing elasticity refers to
breakfast and, indeed, lunch, which in turn impacts on our set off times each
day. While I’m happy for lunch to extend
way past 2pm to lessen the searing heat of the sun, it seems impossible to get
an African hotel to serve breakfast before 7am, by which time we should already
be on the road to make the most of the relative coolness of the early
morning. Today there is a further delay
as several bikes need major fixes before we set off around 8.30am, and the sun
is already beating down as we cycle out of the hotel and back through the busy
town.
I fear today may sound like one big whine, but there are extenuating
circumstances.
- I’ve slept badly every night.
- Suzi, my room mate, was sick all last night
- The combination of 1 & 2 meant virtually no sleep whatsoever.
Add to this three exhausting days of cycling so far, and I
hope you can find it in yourself to forgive a one-day whinge. And to offset the bad bits, there was an
early high spot. As the cyclists headed
up hill out of town, on the other side of the road heading down hill marched a
parade of blue uniformed school children singing and playing drums in support,
I believe, of universal schooling. All
very cheering. In fact, the whole trip
has been made easier by the support of gaggles of school children along the
way; weary legs definitely turn a little faster when they hear their cheers and
cries of “obrouni” literally, white
man.
I think I remember one long down hill after this, but then
just an unrelenting uphill section for several kilometres to our first stop at Boti Falls. We leave our bikes and walk down to the
roaring water where Tim, of course, ignores the risk of bilharzia and dives
straight in swiftly followed by the local bike crew, while the rest of us look
on. Then it’s back on the bikes for more
cross country cycling, by now both my head and my spirits are down and even the
lovely Dr Rob can’t lift them, despite being full of the joys of our beautiful
surroundings and having enough energy for both of us, stopping to take
photographs and then catching me up and surging ahead.
By midday the heat is winning and shortly after that I hit
the wall - a steep, near vertical section of concrete road rising from the dirt
road floor and leading on to a slightly less steep but deeply rutted dirt road
that continues up the hill. I get off my
bike and push up. By now I am moving so
slowly that the back of the group has caught up with me and there is still 25km
to go to lunch. I decide there is no
point in killing myself and hitch a ride with Suzi in the van. Dave’s there too, with Mel and Lou in another
vehicle with Humphrey, and as the miles roll on and on – up hill and down dale
past 1pm, past 2pm, with still no lunch stop in site – we are joined by Ralph,
Patricia and even lion-hearted Jim, all defeated by the unrelenting roads and
sun.
Finally those left cycling are allowed to stop. But there is still no sign of lunch. Peter and Jessica have missed the designated
lunch stop and set up we know not where. After several phone calls, they are
found and lunch is ferried down to the weary cyclists. After this, the good
news is that we only have 8km to our final destination, Begoro. The bad news, that it’s is all uphill. Even worse news, my bike has been damaged on
the truck; as I begin cycling up the hill I find the gear selector has
broken. I struggle up the hill in the
two gears I have left and manage to get almost to the top when the chain falls
off. Tim is also having problems with a
completely locked chain. As we walk into town there’s a flash of lighting, a
clap of thunder and the heavens open.
Within two steps we are soaked.
At least there is a beer waiting for us at the fabulously named KitKat
club.
The day’s excitement is not quite over. The light bulb doesn’t work in our hotel room
and they don’t have a bulb that fits the socket. No problem.
Two men arrive to change the socket.
They balance a folding chair on the bed, unscrew the live socket, change
it for another one, tack the dangling wire to the ceiling, replace the bulb and
leave. Not sure my friends at the
Electrical Safety Council would approve, but we do have light.
1 comment:
How could I forget that shower and the KitKat Club. And the Wall. Boy that was a hard day. Go Ghana Cycle Punishment Club.
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