Breaking the Cycle in Africa

After all the problems we had securing our Ethiopian visas, entering our 19th country was a doddle. Getting through immigration was simple and while customs were more particular, there were no major difficulties. It was back to cycling on the right hand side of the road. All the former British colonies which we had been travelling through in east Africa had all left-hand side driving. Crossing the border, there was immediate changes in climate and people. It is the wet season in Ethiopia, but I couldn’t have imagined that we would have crossed from dry desert to drizzly, sometimes heavy rail. People shouted you, you, you almost constantly. It is their way of saying white person, especially in the southern regions. The landscape opened up and it was open plains all the way to Mega. That is where the climbing started again. Our first night in Ethiopia was spent camping beside the ruins of an old Italian fort 3km north of Mega. Ethiopia was never successfully colonised like all other African nations. The Italians tried in the late 1800s, and then from 1936-1941 they occupied the country which emperor Menelik unified by force.

I was pretty tired and so took it easier for the first couple of days to Yavello, most likely fall out from pushing so hard across the shocking north Kenyan roads, and the last gastro. The landscape was stunning; dry scraggy mountains with spectacular rock formations and Sahel-type dryland vegetation. Fifteen kilometres north of Mega we made a short diversion to visit a salt mine and crater lake. The crater is about 600m deep. At the bottom a black-looking lake provides the villagers with an income.

They traditionally use donkeys to transport the heavy burden up the impossibly steep track. The journey takes two hours each way. There are four types of salt; black salt used for animals, fine white salt, crystallised and rock salt. Traders came from far and wide to buy the salts, but these days the villagers gain a substantial income from tourism. They sure know how the take advantage and the village certainly looks like it has all the basics; electricity, school, health centre, etc.

Communications in Ethiopia, away from Addis Ababa and a couple of the main towns is impossible. The only mobile phone company is run by the state and only Ethiopian nationals are permitted to have a phone. Therefore, until we reached Addis Ababa, where a friend was able to set us up with a sim card, I had no phone to use. Internet is non-existent, or at least never working. Setting up and coordinating details for the finish of the expedition, now just five weeks away was made very difficult.

Ethiopia, and specifically the Rift Valley is well known as being the home of coffee – where coffee plant were first cultivated. Small cafes sell very good coffee just about everywhere – there is no instant coffee. The Rift Valley in Ethiopia and Kenya is also generally considered to be where humankind originates. Therefore this might explain why so many people in the world don’t feel human until they have had their coffee in the morning!!! From Yavello I cycled up and up (actually up, down, up, down,up…) to about 2500m. It was really tough work, though not unexpected. I didn’t mind the climbing, but unfortunately it was the kids which were a serious problem.

The adults could not be more friendly, and I welcome enthusiasm, but my days cycling up the Ethiopian Rift Valley, all the way to Addis Ababa and then later to Harar were perhaps the most stressful and unpleasant of the whole journey. At every opportunity children would run at me, often in mobs shouting you, you, you…money, money, money; give me money.

Of course struggling up the steepest of inclines, I could only manage about eight kilometres an hour and so could not outpace the kids. They would grab on to my bike, throw stones, swipe at me with sticks, try to strike me with whips, they would spit and beg – nonstop. If I did the usual friendly thing and say hello, wave and acknowledge their presence, this only encouraged them. It was better for my own safety that I ignored them completely, which was totally against my instincts. This was not an isolated incident, the responses were constant, like in a relay. Even if I managed to burn off a group of attackers, there would be another wave swarming just down the road.

Many children were plain enthusiastic and it was difficult to give them all a fair hearing and a positive response when others were trying to dislodge me from my bike or throwing stones when I did not give them money. If I stopped and confronted them, they would run away. I did two nine hour days taking this abuse, trying to get through this part of the journey as fast as possible. The hassles really clouded my enjoyment. I was disappointed because I had really been looking forward to travelling through this country. The scenery was actually stunning much of the time, although being the rainy season, it was not very conducive to photography. For this reason, but mostly because of the kids swamping me everywhere, I did not take many photos.

There are a couple of reasons as the why this is such a problem – or why I think it is such a problem. Firstly Ethiopia’s population has exploded from 30 million to 74 million in 35 years. The Rift Valley is one of the most populous regions where I don’t believe they all have access to education. The mobs of children probably don’t go to school. I learned from a German woman who had been living in Ethiopia for eleven years deciphering languages so that students could learn in their own languages, that both the Christian Orthodox and Muslim churches teach their children to beg…What is your name; give me money… As soon as they see a white person, doesn’t matter if like me they are struggling up a mountain, or in a vehicle, there is a terrible culture of wanting to be given something for nothing.

The other main problem is that Ethiopia has been the victim of so many years of hand outs from the international community. A generation of Ethiopians, especially since the droughts of the seventies and on, have grown up receiving the wrong type of aid, lacking in community development, skills transfer and empowerment. Money has just been poured into a bottomless pit. Therefore every time they see a white person, they believe they are owed money, that they should give the shirt off their backs, whatever they own.

While there are some good things happening, handouts are still an issue. Money desperately needs to be spent on their ‘ABCs’ rather than teaching children to beg (meaning literacy and population control – ABC = Abstinence, Be faithful, Condoms).

I reached Awasa in good time but then came down with a violent gastro. Something did not agree with me and my body simply pressed the eject button. I could only lie in bed and sip rehydration salts all day. I did seem to recover well though from gastro number 5 and was able to continue after a wipe-out day. I caught up time, even in heavy rain.

I didn’t need to cycle to Addis Ababa as it is 70km off the route I had chosen, so after staying the night in Debre Zeit, just south of the capital, we drove in. This was an opportunity to meet up with some friends – those who had worked hard to help us get our Ethiopian visas – while catching up on the usual admin bits and pieces in readiness for the next stage. About ten years ago I did a walking holiday in Ladakh, northern India. It was the leader of that trek, Suzie Grant and her Ethiopian travel industry colleagues who had fought for us so hard with the immigration department. It was great to meet Suzie again and say thank you to Gebre and Misgane for their efforts. Suzie has been battling with Ethiopian authorities to build her dream guest house in a beautiful part of northern Ethiopia. After initial encouragement, the bureaucracy of trying to set up a culturally sensitive establishment has taken its toll. In short, we were both fed up for different reasons.

One of the big plusses about Ethiopia is the cuisine. Other than good coffee, they have a distinctive cuisine which we sampled when Misgane took Suzie and me to dinner. Over dinner he confirmed what we both had been thinking about development in Ethiopia. They don’t need hand outs, they want education and they want to take control of their own development. He found most of the Western aid responses patronising. He says that when they see westerners driving around in LandCruisers and staying in expensive hotels when they are meant to be directing aid to where it is needed most – the people, it sends all the wrong messages. Misgane has his own very successful travel business and, having lived in Europe for ten years, can see both sides of the story.

I restarted the journey at Mojo, the village at the turn off to Addis Ababa, cycling east towards Awash, direction Somaliland. Before heading for the border, there was one very important project to visit in the Afar Region (Ethiopian desert lowlands). From Awash I made a big diversion 320km north to Mille and Logia to meet Valerie Browning, her husband Ishmael and learn about the NGO they have set up called the Afar Pastoralists’ Development Association. If I have been rather negative and upset about development in Ethiopia in this blog, then the next story is a great counter balance.

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From Kigali to Nairobi the expedition had been congested with many project and game park visits and not so much cycling. Setting off from Nakuru however was the start of the final 4500km/six week phase. It was going to be intensive cycling pretty much to the finish – and a few project visits. The first three days of the challenge were very up and down, starting with a long tallying climb – across the Equator once more – to Nyahururu (2350m). Everything and anything grows in the Rift Valley soils. I cycled passed coffee, tea and sugar plantations. I then headed east towards Mt Kenya via Nanyuki and around Africa’s second highest mountain to Isiolo. I somehow managed to pick up another stomach bug and my system had to endure gastro No.4 for the journey. Out of Nanyuki I climbed again for about 40km to 2800m. Here there were large farms growing cereal crops such as barley and tunnels of fresh cut flowers, grape vines and other fruit. We were surprised to see barley growing so well at such an altitude.

Then came the best downhill of the journey so far – I dropped 1300m over the next 50km to enter Isiolo and a new world. We’d left behind the fertile highlands and entered a dry, dusty, rugged landscape with spectacular craggy ranges all round. The people were different too. Many more Muslims and mosques, many more nomads’ dwellings lining the road out of town, and much more begging than usual. Forty kilometres north of Isiolo, at Archer’s Post, we stayed with a group of Samburu people beside the river.

Samburu are nomadic herders with many customs similar to the Maasi and Turkana people. They wear brightly coloured clothes and plenty of jewellery, herd cattle, sheep and goats and live off a diet of milk mixed with blood and meat (no vegetables). Most of the women dress traditionally every day, not just for showing tourists.

Like the Maasi we met, they are very proud of their cultures and traditions. The women had formed a group; the Meagari Early Childhood Group which seemed to be about ensuring their children’s education and future while empowering each other. The money we paid for camping beside their land and filming was divided amongst them. John also gave some pencils and notebooks which were gratefully received.

A young fellow named Robin took charge of organising us and explaining Samburu customs. He is part of the next generation – better educated and wanting to break away from the nomadic lifestyle. He explained that he has plans to build a guest house right beside the river. Now that the road has been paved, he says this is a great avenue for progress and he dreams of making a thriving business from passing travellers. Robin, his father and a couple of others kept watch over us all night beside a campfire, spear at the ready, to ensure our safety. Until recently, people had to travel in a convoy because of the threat of bandits. We’d heard about a motorcyclist who had had his spokes shot out a few months ago somewhere between Archer’s Post and Marsabit.

The great news for us was that Zdenek sent a message to say mission accomplished – he had the Ethiopian visas. What a relief that was for all of us. The whole episode had been absurd and expensive, but at least we had found a way. He was able to apply for and receive our visas in a day in Harare. Zdenek flew back to Nairobi and then took two buses to catch us in Laisamis the next night. We greeted him as a hero!

From Archer’s Post, I was fortunate to be able to coast along a further 65km of brand new tarmac. The scenery was superb with spectacular strips of ranges flanking the roadsides. There were many Samburu nomads milling around in the village at the end of the new tarmac.

The World Food Program was distributing a monthly supply of food aid. This region was hit hard by drought last season and many of the nomads had lost all their animals – or at least most of them, which they rely on for their food and livelihood. This also explains why we had to endure so much begging out of Iliolo. The atmosphere was tense. People were on edge. Apparently 85% of the aid comes from the US, 5% from Japan and the rest from elsewhere, including Australia.

I had a long discussion with one of the village leaders, Mark Rosket. He said that while the aid was much better than nothing, they need more than just maize. They need protein to sustain pregnant and lactating women and children. Maize is so different from their usual diet of blood, milk and meat. The chief explained that their priorities are: enough food to get them back on their feet, they need animals from which they can breed and get their herd numbers back up so they can maintain their normal life style and mostly they need to develop their education program.

As children are nomadic, it is difficult for them to receive education on the move and illiteracy is high. It is difficult to get teachers to embrace the lifestyle and travel with them. The chief said that education is the real priority as better educated people are more adaptable, have fewer healthier children and are better able to cope when they are faced with drought and other crises. There is a real problem with drunkardness in the community which contributes to the community problems.

Reaching the boundary of Losai National Reserve also marked the end of any improved road. I had been expecting this shocking quality of road and feel fortunate that 100km of the 500km stretch is now good tarmac or gravel. It was a mixture of extremely deep corrugations and large loose stones. I could only average about 12 or 13km an hour on it and was shaken to bits. I did try trailblazing through the bush. There were some animal tracks and clay pans to follow, but overall it was no quicker. Even if it was more comfortable and interesting, the threat of punctures was high and it would only be a matter of time before pieces of the thorny bush penetrated my tyres. Eventually after landing in a thorn tree I decided to return to the main road.

By the end of the day, chaffing was so bad I could barely touch the seat. I really struggled from Laisamis to Marsabit, the 100km took nearly eight hours! Marsabit is set on a volcanic mountain range, high above the plains I had been cycling over. In fact I had to climb almost a thousand metres over 50km to get there.

The next morning John contracted giardia and was feeling very ill. As soon as the pharmacist opened I bought the correct medication and John recovered very quickly. In fact he claimed it was the best dose of giardia he had ever had! In the past he had been sick for much longer. Zdenek and I spent the morning walking with local guide, Duba (dubakalicha@yahoo.com) to visit a huge, 600m-deep volcanic crater. On the way he also showed us graves from World War II when the British and Italians battled in the region.

The shocking road continued as I descended out of the mountains to the stony Chalbi Desert. The region is almost totally barren and devoid of trees, apart from the odd thorn tree. The plains are covered with volcanic rubble and the road was probably the worst stony surface I have ever had to cycle. There were no alternatives beside the main road. I did try, but it was hopeless. The desert is the realm of the nomads and I came across large flocks of fatty tailed sheep being driven along the road. There were many camels too and the odd camel train. We saw ostriches and groups of gazelle nearer to Marsabit. Hundreds of tiny ‘dic dic’ deer closer to Moyale.

The final day into Moyale at the Ethiopian border was massive – 10 hours for 145km. The road did improve from the horrific loose stone surface, but was still very heavy going and rough much of the time. The last hour was done in complete darkness with just the headlights to guide the way. It was probably fortunate I couldn’t see what was coming for the finale – a 700metre climb in the dark! I was knackered, but it was good to get to Moyale to watch the World Cup Final.

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To save time and having to cycle through Nairobi, we drove from Nakuru aiming to return to Nakuru to resume the cycle journey once we had done everything in Nairobi. On the way we stopped off at Hell’s Gate National Park, near Lake Navaisha. Hell’s Gate is one of the few national parks which allow cyclists as there are no man eaters there. I thought it would be a good team-building exercise and an opportunity to get some footage of cycling past some of the animals. We hired a couple of very inadequate bikes for Zdenek and MaryJane; John and I used our bikes of course. The plan was to take a couple of hours to cycle as a team around a 20km circuit. We’d assumed that the whole park would be easy for the average cyclist and set off along the Buffalo Track which turned out to be a rough 4WD track, inappropriate for normal cycling. We pushed through sand and bulldust up a steep route for about 10km which MaryJane dubbed Hell’s Track – it was a baptism of fire for her – partaking in Breaking the Cycle was “breaking her will to cycle”. The positive was that the views were superb overlooking Lake Navaisha and surrounding mountains. Being a part of the Rift Valley there were a number of thermo power stations. Apparently steam rises out of the ground at about 300 degrees Celsius. After an equally rugged descent we joined up with the main track which bisects Hell’s Gate Gorge – the track which is suitable for cyclists! It was a stunning ride back to the main gate where we did see plenty of zebra, gazelles, giraffe and warthogs. From there we set off for Nairobi. The traffic was hopeless and we were late meeting our friends for dinner – Brendan, Grace, Matt and Jayden O’Brien.

One of the main reasons for diverting to Nairobi was to learn about the work of one of the expedition partners the 500 Supporters’ Group. While we didn’t manage to see everything, the project we did see at Ruben Slum gave a good snapshot. Ruben is a part of Mukuru Slums where approximately 1.25 million people live in a very small area. The slums are set in behind a large industrial area.

Our minibus turned off the paved road and on to a rough track lined with vendors selling just about everything – at a good price. The dried mud would be hopeless in the wet. Inside the compound, Matt introduced Zdenek and me to Brother Barry, the centre manager. The centre is run by the Christian Brothers (their organisation largely funds the programs along with the 500 Supporters’ Group and some other stakeholders). There are many initiatives in progress.

We concentrated on the health, education and microfinance loans. It appears the Kenyan government has placed Mukuru and other enormous slums such as Kibera in the too hard basket. No assistance is given for education, health, security or social development. The Ruben Centre provides a sanctuary for 1700 school children. They have about 80 students per class as it is and they have to turn people away. The health centre is the only facility of its kind in the slum – they deal with a huge number of people every day, but there are so many more that need attention.

Brother Barry and Matt showed us around the health clinic. We first met Mary-Anne, the nutritionist. Most commonly she treats malnutrition. Malnourished children are prescribed with special packets of powder fortified with high protein and high energy to ensure rapid weight gain. Next we met Sarah, the HIV/AIDS counsellor. Sarah said she became a counsellor after watching her uncle die of AIDS. There were so many stigmas and myths associated with his illness. He was outcast by society and not even family members were permitted to touch him for fear of contracting the disease. Sarah’s job is to educate and dispel the myths, encourage testing and counsel those who are HIV-positive.

Next we met the head teacher of the school, Scholastica Opiyo. She has been running the school for 12 years and watched numbers grow until they are bursting at the seams. The 28 teachers are paid by the Christian Brothers organisation, again no help from the government. She says the children are always eager to learn and make the most of their opportunity. The lunch provided is often the students’ only meal of the day. Usually it is maize or beans.

Parents are not required to pay school fees, but as a token gesture they are required to pay for the charcoal to cook the food. Even this small charge is a challenge some find difficult to meet. The kitchen was simply four huge vats of maize which was being steamed; almost ready for lunch when we looked in. Scholastica said that often children did not want to go home at the end of the day as the school environment was so much better than their home situations. She said it was often difficult to entice teachers to work in Ruben, but once they were employed, the enthusiasm of the students was a great motivator. Most teachers are committing for long periods of time.

The microloan system offers prospective business people a leg up. Peter, the manager explained that if someone wanted a loan, they would have to present in a group so that his/her colleagues would act as guarantors. The first loan offered is very small; 15,000 shillings or $200. This is usually enough to set up a small business. They pay 15% interest which must be paid back within three months. They are then permitted to apply for a second larger loan. There are four levels of microloans, the largest being 60,000 shillings.

Having learned about many of the services provided on the premises, it was time to venture in to the slum. Brother Barry and community workers, Rose and Phaustine led the way. A security person followed just in case there was an issue. Barry said that in daylight hours, there should not be a problem, but at night it was an unsafe place. The first thing that struck me was the stench. It smelt like a sceptic tank. There were open channels of sewerage running down the streets and rubbish carpeting the dusty and muddy streets. It was a case of treading very carefully much of the time. The streets were lined with small corrugated iron dwellings and shops.

Most of the building was such that the floor levels were below the level of the street. This means that when it rains, water flows into the houses and shops – water that has washed over the open sewers – making living rooms a health hazard. There were kids everywhere, playing in the streets, following us around. I felt like the Pied Piper. Many people were busy with whatever they were doing; mostly trading. Barry explained that unemployment was one of the biggest issues and that the young men we saw hanging around the street corners and playing pool were the cause of many problems at night.

We were being led to the tiny home of Mary Makhwana who had recently been diagnosed with tuberculosis and AIDS. Rose and Phaustine had been looking after Mary, ensuring she received medical treatment and also helping her with a plan to move forward. Mary has five children. The youngest sat with me on the couch. She, like many slum dwellers, had been attracted to the potential opportunities of the big city from the country.

With work not forthcoming she ended up ‘trapped’ in the slum with an insignificant income and rent to pay on her little corrugated iron shack. Once she fell ill she was unable to work and has hit rock bottom. She was feeling better now that she has access to the right medication and Rose and Phaustine are trying to organise for her to return to her village in the country. There she can get family support and her children could have a better future too.

Barry, Rose and Phaustine then introduced us to Wilson, a young businessman who has benefitted from three microloans. With the money he has set up a shop, small hotel and is now looking to buy a vehicle with the profits (he makes 6000 shillings a week) and set up a small courier business. Wilson was very proud of what he has created from the loans, foresight and some hard work.

As mentioned there are other interesting projects to which the 500 Supporters’ Group contributes which are making a difference to education, health and social welfare in urban environments. The population density and living conditions are so cramped that people have no space to grow and provide food for themselves and little opportunity for work. I thank Matt and Brendan in particular for arranging our visit, especially when they had their own hectic schedules to further develop these initiatives and new partnerships.

The other main reason for visiting Nairobi was to attain our Ethiopian visas. When I started the journey, obtaining an Ethiopian visa was possible at the border but for some reason, and without warning, they had changed the rules. We’d heard they weren’t issuing them from Nairobi or on the border in advance and had tried to no avail in Kampala. I managed to get a letter of invitation from an Ethiopian travel company and had even written a letter to the Ministry of Tourism, but the day we spent at the embassy in Nairobi was wasted. No reason was given.

There are no problems for people travelling overland from Sudan or flying in, so the reason was not for security. We then heard that a tour group had sent a representative down to the embassy in Harare, Zimbabwe and successfully collected twenty visas. It seemed to be our only option to send Zdenek down to Harare to apply for visas while I restarted the journey from Nakuru. A ridiculous waste of time and money but it was the only way, otherwise it would totally mess up the schedule.

John and I resumed the journey from Nakuru, heading to Nyahuruhu, Kenya’s highest major town. We just had to hope that Zdenek would be successful and then catch us on the road through northern Kenya.

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Rather than staying in busy Kampala, we found a great place to spend a couple of nights in Entebbe at the Uganda Wildlife Education Centre, beside Lake Victoria and near the airport. The centre has an important role in rescuing animals from smugglers and those at risk of being poached. The animals appear perfectly happy in their spacious, leafy habitats. It’s incredible to be awoken by a lion’s roar in the morning. Animals are rehabilitated and then usually moved on to other sanctuaries such as the Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary, featured in the previous blog. The money we spent there goes into helping maintain the centre. Before heading off we did a half day trip out to Ngamba Island on Lake Victoria to visit the Chimpanzee Sanctuary. The sanctuary was set up in 1998 to care for chimps after being confiscated by the Uganda Wildlife Authority from poachers and traders. Every year in Africa, approximately 5000 chimps are killed by poachers for the bush-meat trade. As a product of this illegal practice, dozens of infant chimps are taken alive from the forest, bound for the pet trade throughout the world.

After a pleasant 45 minute boat ride, we arrived at the island and were greeted by our ranger/guide. All 44 chimps on the island are cared for physically and emotionally; helping them overcome their traumas and reintegrating them with other chimps. Some may one day return to the wild, but most are there for the long stay – they will never make it back. The chimps are fed four times a day on a variety of fruit and vegetables. They receive medical care, security and social companionship – some struggle with the latter due to their prior mistreatment. Our main entertainment for the morning was, however the 11am feeding time. Chimps appeared out of the forest ready to be thrown all sorts of fruit. The ranger knew them all by name and could tell us about each personality. It was interesting to watch their behaviour; some were happy with their fair share, others raced around gathering as much as they could eat and carry, others were hoarders, stockpiling their stash in a quiet place and guarding it. All too soon, feeding time was over and we were back on the boat heading for Entebbe to then drive back to the point where I had stopped cycling a few days before.

Not much cycling again in this section; just two and a half days from near the Uganda/Kenya border to Nakuru. It would have been inappropriate to travel through Kenya and not see any of the wildlife. I kept the cycle route simple – straight down, or should I say up the main road through Eldoret to Nakuru and Nairobi. There was an awful lot of climbing over the next day and a half to reach 2800m before dropping down towards Nakuru (1800m). Thunderstorms bubbled up in the afternoon. They were very localised. The first afternoon I had to cycle straight through the storm epicentre. As the freezing cold rain turned into hail I took refuge in shelter of a tiny church. Schoolgirls from next door braved the downpour to join me. They could speak perfect English and were intrigued with my cameras.

John arranged for us to stay at Kembu Campsite on Kenana Farm, about 30km out of Nakuru. The 900-acre farm and campsite is owned by the Nightingales, an old white Kenyan family. They employ over 200 people and really do give a lot back to the local community. All the staff with whom we dealt seemed happy and obviously earned well. Also on the farm Paddy Nightingale has set up Kenana Knitters. This is a brilliant initiative which all started roughly twenty years ago from a discussion two people had under a tree and a good idea. Kenana Knitters became a business entity twelve years ago. Since then Paddy has gradually built it up and now has 300 knitters on her books.

Women from the local community elect to sign up to earn extra income for the family. Once their quality is up to standard they nominate to produce as much or as little as they can guarantee to complete on time. Knitting is a very practical craft that they can mostly do at home around all their usual chores and family commitments. Paddy and her small management team have developed international markets. They are careful to only take on orders which they know they can fulfil at the right quality and on time. The wool is sourced from local markets – Kenya is the first African country where I have seen sheep bred for their wool. (Everywhere else sheep look much more like goats, or they are the Damara sheep in Namibia which don’t require shearing) The wool is spun and dyed with natural dyes made from dahlias, red cabbage and native trees. Everything must be organic (except the acrylic filler for toys which is a compromise, allowing them to be washed more easily).

The knitting workshop has become a centre of the community; a place where women receive social support, medical services and develop camaraderie with other women out of their usual hardworking home environment. Paddy said the women earn a little more than their husbands! She has provided a facility for women to save small amounts of money so there is something in the kitty if a child is sick, or extra is needed to pay the school fees. Usually their husbands would demand that they hand over all their earnings which would then be used up rather than saved. There is a health clinic and free HIV/AIDS testing service which is discrete for the women to use as well as free counselling and support.

Paddy was asked if she could set up a similar project in Darfur by some Americans – in three months! She had to say no because while she could set it up, and it would ‘look good; ticking all the right boxes’ it would not be sustainable. Maintaining Kenana Knitters requires continual support, finding new markets and understanding the women’s needs and culture. Three months is not enough time to establish the skills or find appropriate managers to continue the trade. Being born and bred in Kenya herself makes a huge difference.

We used Kembu as a base while we were in central Kenya. From there we drove for seven hours to the Maasi Mara National Park. It isn’t that far but the scenic shortcut through the highlands was very rough. Once we dropped down from the high altitude to Narok, the vegetation changed dramatically, from lush fertile, ‘grow anything’ pastures to dry, spiky sclerophyllous acacia scrubland. We stayed at the Riverside Campsite near the Talek Gate entrance which was run by a couple of Maasi fellows. It was basic, but perfectly adequate. They kept watch around the clock; keeping dangerous animals away at night and the baboons away from our gear during the day.

We employed one of the Maasi, Amos as our guide for the day. This proved to be a very worthwhile investment. Amos was very knowledgeable, spoke good English and worked hard all day to find out where the animals were. All the guides communicate using text messages to let each other know where the main animals are. It was rather a novelty having a traditionally dressed Maasi next to me in the back seat of the LandRover – I just had to be careful not to sit on his knife which was strapped to his side. We were incredibly lucky to see so much in one day.

We had popped into the park for a couple of hours the previous evening and had seen a leopard’s kill hanging in a tree, but no leopard. First thing the next morning we decided to revisit the site in the hope it might still be there. It was! The leopard was having the young wildebeest for breakfast. We watched for about half an hour. What strength and balance it must have to haul such a large animal up a tree. (Unfortunately I didn’t get a decent photo, so you’ll have to imagine this as if it was straight out of a National Geographic documentary!)

The famous wildebeest migration had started early this year. Millions of wildebeests migrate annually from the Serengeti Plains (which back on to the Maasi Mara) to the Maasi Mara in search of rich pastures. The migration was not yet in full swing, but the western plains of the Maasi Mara were still densely populated with tens of thousands of wildebeest.

Amos directed us to a high viewpoint where we could look over the lines of wildebeest moving across the plains and the meandering Mara River. Zebras also move with the wildebeest – they make good partners because wildebeest have poor eyesight and it is safety in numbers for the zebra. There were many other herbivores too – elephants, topi, impala, Thompson’s gazelles, giraffes… John made porridge for breakfast at our vantage point while Amos planned our next move. On the far side of the Mara river he could see a few cars gathering – what were they watching?

We crossed over the river to the far western edge of the park to find a family of cheetahs resting under a cotton tree – wow – the cheetah was the animal I most wanted to see and there were two adults and two teenage cubs about 15 metres away. Cheetahs are very sensitive animals and so it was great to see a warden there directing the traffic, ensuring people remained a respectful distance. He would allow one vehicle at a time to get a good look for five minutes then move on. We’d already seen many vehicles doing the wrong thing – driving through a herd of zebras, driving off the tracks, putting unnecessary pressure on the wildlife. A few of the Kenyans I spoke to say the Maasi Mara is under threat because of overuse. People pressure is destroying the animals. There are big problems in the Serengeti too. The Tanzanian government has just given the go ahead for the track which bisects the park to be bituminised. This will mean heavy traffic disturbing the animals’ sanctuary, even destroying the wildebeest migration.

Back at the Mara Bridge we stopped for lunch. There a ranger gave us a free guided walk along the riverbank. He was carrying a gun just in case something went wrong. The river was heavily populated with hippos and crocodiles. He took us to one of the main wildebeest crossings. Being early in the season, there weren’t any running at the time, but a few dead beests were washed up on the rocks and beaches. We moved on in search of lions, heading west. On the way we saw elephants, buffalo, hyenas, giraffes and more herbivores.

Finally Amos made a spot beside a dry creek. There were two pairs of lions – and about 15 vehicles lined up! Amos knew the lions were brothers and that both pairs were courting. This time there were no wardens to control the traffic, but the lions just ignored the chaos completely. We watched and waited patiently. Slowly the vehicles disappeared, roaring off to their lodges for the evening. In the end, there were just two vehicles. We watched one pair from just five metres. I couldn’t believe our luck. In one day we’d seen a leopard, four cheetahs, four lions and an impressive array of animals. Amos had done a great job and so there was plenty to talk about around the campfire that evening with our Maasi friends.

The drive back to Kembu took all of the next day. From there we set off to Nairobi for the next project visit and to try to sort out our Ethiopian visas.

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The cycle from Kinoni to Kampala ended up being a marathon day. It started out as a routine ride into Masaka and up the main road which runs parallel to the shores of Lake Victoria (even though the lake was not in view all day). There was about 30km of particularly unpleasant cycling through road works where I was constantly doused with choking dust. The Equator monument was enshrouded too. Nearing Kampala the road was certainly not built for the heavy traffic and I was constantly forced over the broken edges and into the gravel. I had to remain extremely alert and aware of what was coming behind me – usually very fast. I stuck at it and reached the city after 150km, just in time for peak hour traffic. Right as I was tiring, the awareness needed to be most acute. Road works stifled our route plan and by the time we found our way into the city centre I’d clocked 170km – the last hour in the dark. We’d reached Kampala two days ahead of schedule. We had dates to keep; John’s girlfriend MaryJane was due to fly in on the 18th and the following day we needed to drive to Gulu for the next project visit. So to make use of the time I cycled a couple more days to near the Kenyan border.

Working my way through shocking traffic out of Kampala along the Jinja Road I was thinking that if the conundrum of minibuses, heavy trucks, motorbikes and cars didn’t kill me, the fumes would. There are no emissions laws here. My eyes were streaming. I passed through some huge tea, sugar cane and rice plantations around the top of Lake Victoria. We camped beside the Nile River, just up from the source of the mighty river where it flows out of Lake Victoria. After Jinja the road opened out making cycling more pleasant.

We just managed to return to Kampala and Entebbe in time for John to meet MaryJane at the airport. It was great to have MaryJane join us for the two weeks from Kampala to Nairobi.

Throughout the expedition I have been wearing organic cotton t-shirts provided by a sustainable trade company called Edun Live, a sister brand of Edun Apparel. Edun was started by Bono and his wife, Ali Hewson. Garments are made in Sub-Saharan Africa from grower to sewer. The reason for our 370km diversion to Gulu in Northern Uganda was to see where the cotton is produced, meet the farmers and learn how growing organic cotton as a cash crop is transforming many communities.

It took the best part of a day to reach Gulu. On arrival John Tembo, Project Manager and Agronomist for the Cotton Conservation Initiative of Uganda (CCIU) was waiting to greet us. CCIU was established by Edun and the US-based NGO, Invisible Children (IC). CCIU started under an initiative of IC; profits from Edun Live’s t-shirt sales are funding the project. The aim of CCIU is to contribute to the economic development and resettlement of northern Uganda, in Gulu & Amuru Districts, by providing a financially viable farming alternative to people returning from Internally Displace Peoples Camps to their villages of origin before the insurgency of the Lord’s Resistance Army. John joined us for dinner so we were able to learn about more CCIU and discuss plans for the next day.

Some background as to why this region was selected (other than that it is a good cotton producing area). Since the peace talks that started in June 2006 (after nearly 20 years of war), northern Uganda has enjoyed increasing peace. This has allowed people to return to their original villages and land, and begin to rebuild their lives. However, they are returning to land that has not been tilled for 15 years and more, to places that have no economic activity and opportunities. A large percentage of the returnees are below the age of 20. They have never engaged in agriculture before, having been recipients of food aid and other handouts. They do not have the motivation nor know-how to take their future lives as rural farmers in their own hands, and tend to drift into being unproductive, idling away their days in trading centres. Secondly, since the demise of the cooperative movement and unions under the full privatization and liberalization of the agricultural commodities sector, the smallholder farmer producing cash crops has always been victim of unscrupulous agents and unnecessary middlemen, realizing only a fraction of the true value of his crop. CCIU is cutting out the middlemen and developing a value-added chain so that the garments are produced entirely in Uganda and maximum benefits are returned to the small producers.

Our tour began in the office – CCIU’s nerve centre which also happens to be John’s house. We were introduced to the small number of staff who were still working hard on a Saturday morning. The shelves were stacked with files. Every farmer completes forms detailing the various crops they grow and sprays used in the past. Typically farmers will own up to eight acres on which they will grow their staple foods (maize, cassava, vegetables) and a cash crop – organic cotton. All data is then transferred to soft copy which is presented to the international governing bodies. To be certified as 100% organic there are stringent standards, rules and procedures. The governing bodies regularly check a random selection of producers. CCIU is expanding rapidly. Last year they started with 1000 farmers signing MOUs; this year there are 3500 farmers involved and John says that they will have around 8000 members recruited and committed next year. All farmers receive training; farm leaders are responsible for teaching on average, about 30 of their peers. Each member receives a calendar detailing planting dates and information about farm management, fertility enhancement, pest control and crop rotation. Every group has a committee with a president, secretary and treasurer. CCIU provide training and basic equipment to ensure each group know how to run a committee, meetings and can record what is decided. Group leaders communicate with field officers who in turn answer to two are coordinators who then answer to John and Claude Auberson (Project Director).

Our first stop was the ginnery in Gulu. Once the cotton is harvested it is sent to the ginnery where the lint is separated from the seed. The factory we saw wasn’t actually organic certified and so is not used by CCUI – it was just to see an example. CCIU are planning very soon to introduce mini-gins which can be operated by the farmers. This is another way they intend to cut out the middleman. Cotton seed itself has a lot of value, normally exploited by the ginnery. Profits from seed products such as oil, soap and animal fodder for example, will soon be received by the growers.

Next we set off along the road, now a rough unsealed road, which if we kept going we’d end up at the Sudanese border. CCIU have set up demonstration plots at secondary schools so that students can learn how to produce organic cotton. The first school we visited, Sacred Heart Girl’s School – which had a reputation as one of the best in the region – was also where the first girls were abducted by the Lord’s Resistance Army. By targeting this school the LRA were intending to maximise their statement of intent, inciting shock and fear in the society. Girls were raped, sold as wives, desensitised and forced to live in the bush as child soldiers.

We met the head groundsman, who offers his skills and expertise at a minimal wage, to teach the girls new skills in cotton farming. The seeds had just been planted, so there wasn’t much in the way of cotton crops to see. As we returned through the school he explained that they are in the process of building a substantial wall around the grounds to protect the girls. We visited another school with a demonstration plot – Keyo Secondary School. The head teacher explained that many of the students are badly scarred from the horrors of the war and receive counselling. Two thirds of the students are boys he explained, mostly due to early pregnancies. Life in the IDP camps is not healthy for them – not much to do, living very close to one another, poor levels of education in the generation above. The head teacher and agricultural teacher said that the cotton plot not only empowers the students, the wider community is becoming involved.

Our final destination on the tour involved a bumpy ride off the main road to meet a group of farmers. We were a little late and they had been waiting patiently for us. The women gave us a warm traditional welcome. I felt honoured by their dancing and singing and thanked them. These people had only returned to their land in the last three years (I think). Prior to this these 50 farmers had existed in the IDP camps, depending on hand outs.

I noticed one of the doors was entirely made of rolled out old food tins from the World Food Program. We sat under a tree and John Tembo led the discussion – interpreted by the area coordinator. When he explained that the t-shirt that I was wearing had been produced from last year’s crop, I could see their eyes light up. I added that my t-shirt was coming home – I think they liked that one too. I doubt they get to see the end product very often.

When I asked what they used the money from the cash crop for, most replied that it was to pay for education. There were equal numbers of men and women farmers who all have an equal say in proceedings. The lead farmer in this village was a woman. Overall they seemed a very happy, motivated group. It didn’t take much to make them laugh (as you can see from the photos). Most planned to increase the size of their cotton crops next year.

The organic cotton as a cash crop really helps these communities become more resilient. Before they would have just produced enough food to eat, perhaps selling any excess at a local market. It was very much a hand to mouth existence. If there was a crop failure, children wouldn’t go to school (if they could afford it in the first place) and/or they would go hungry. Now they are learning how to put money away and plan for the future. Organic cotton attracts 25% above the market value. Once the cotton is set up as the organic cash crop, they also aim to produce other organic crops such as chilli and sesame oil. The whole program aims to become self-sustaining by 2013.

Later that afternoon John organised for us to meet Andrew Morgan and Jessica from Invisible Children as they are obviously the other key stakeholder in this partnership. Invisible Children has been working in northern Uganda for the past six years and has played an integral role in the peace and recovery of the region. IC’s work has been featured on CNN International, Larry King, Oprah and has been the recipient of numerous awards, including the 2008 Ugandan North American Association Service Award, for its work in education and economic development. Most of IC’s fundraising is done by school students in the US. They also provide scholarships for exceptional students in the region who are in vulnerable situations. Jessica took the time to explain in detail exactly what IC do – they really do a fantastic job. www.invisiblechildren.com

We had a very interesting time in Gulu and it was wonderful to see where my t-shirts were made and how the producers were benefitting from CCUI’s work. John and Claude arranged for us to visit the factory in Kampala where the t-shirts are produced.

We broke up the long drive back to Kampala with a visit to the Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary. Due to civil unrest in the 70s, rhinos were poached to extinction – the last Rhino was seen in Uganda in 1983. Today rhino horns fetch a high price on world markets where they are sold mostly for Traditional Chinese medicines as well as dagger handles in Yemen. The aim of the Ziwa Sanctuary is to breed white and black rhinos and reintroduce them back into their original habitat, most likely in Murchison Falls National Park. Four white rhinos were transferred from Kenya in 2005. Two more were donated by Disney Animal Kingdom in Florida. The founding three males and three females have produced three calves in the last year.

The firstborn named Obama as he has a Kenyan father and an American mother. The sanctuary employs gamekeepers to protect the rhinos around the clock. They also work as guides so visitors like us can track them on foot. It didn’t take long for us to find them. There’s something very special about being just a few metres away from the two tonne animals. By staying in the sanctuary and dining on their high quality meals, our funds were directly supporting the sanctuary.

Back in Kampala we drove straight to Phenix Logistics, the factory with produces organic cotton garments for Edun as well as a number of other companies. Innocent, the Phenix project manager showed us around. They receive cotton bales branded with information which tells them exactly who produced to cotton and when and where it was ginned. Cotton from CCIU’s farmers is only used for Edun’s t-shirts and the pedigree will prove it. It has to be this way to receive the 100% organic cotton label. Innocent took us right through the process, from where the cotton has to be manually relaxed from the compressed bales to the final garments. It was fascinating to see the precise ‘clever’ machinery working. There are many processes involved in making the yarn right through to knitting the material, dying, sewing and screen printing. Phenix provides work for 300 employees. They have just received their fair trade certification that ensures they have their staff’s welfare at heart.

Having witnessed the whole grower to sewer process I can see that the Gulu farmers are really reaping the benefits. Passionate people are using their expertise to ensure that maximum value is received for their work. Communities are becoming more resilient and better educated.

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From Kigale it was a pretty straight forward ride along the main road, up through a stunning valley, over a pass and into Uganda, country number 17 of the journey. At Kabale, 20km into Uganda, we made a short diversion to stay at Lake Bunyoni. It was a seriously steep ride at the end of a long day up to the lip of the ancient crater lake, but the view well worth it. Kalebus Camp beside Lake Bunyoni was a terrific place to stay; great food and so tranquil in the morning. Returning to Kabale the next day however, one scene was quite a contrast. We stopped to have a closer look at a quarry and meet some of the workers. All generations were represented in the demographics; grandmothers, mothers, fathers, sons, children…and there were certainly no safety precautions in place. We watched women pushing gravel over the cliff face, perched in precarious positions – no harnesses, no shoes, no protection. Men broke rocks with sledge hammers and crow bars, women and children cracked smaller lumps of gravel. I read in a Ugandan newspaper that the wages earned by women nursery workers (picking flowers) was usually about $US1.20 per day, rising to $US1.50 after a year of service. I doubt these quarry workers were getting that. We’d just paid about $50 for four of us for camping, dinner and breakfast on the other side of the hill, yet here it would take a labourer more than a month to earn that amount.

From Kabale I pedalled over some huge hills, a high plain and then more (smaller) hills; through Mbarara to reach the small market town of Kinoni, 20km from Masaka. At Kinoni we turned off to a small village called Lubanda to meet Helen Brown and learn about her HUG Project.

Helen first contacted me in response to an article in The Age newspaper in Melbourne. We very soon realised that we were on the same page with regard to the theme and purpose of our initiatives. Helen invited me to visit her project in Uganda. HUG stands for Help Us Grow. The not-for-profit organisation was set up by Helen and David Ssemwogerere. Helen and David’s paths crossed when Helen first visited Uganda to take part in another educational program. She had felt that there was a division between the organisation that she was working for and the Ugandan people whom she was teaching. HUG was set up by Helen and David to develop relationships between community members and volunteers so that both cultures learn from each other; two way relationships where the benefits go both ways to develop community spirit and resilience. As we arrived, Helen and David had just returned themselves from Kampala with a family of volunteers – the Tomaino family from Melbourne who were on their first trip to Africa.

A surprise was in store as a group of about twenty women from the Lubanda community performed a traditional welcome for us. It was very special. Helen said that when they started 18 months ago, these women would not have had the self-confidence to give such a performance. Helen and David are reviving self-esteem and facilitating empowerment for a better, sustainable future. There are no huge budgets and no new LandCruisers here. This is a small grassroots organisation where initiatives are based on knowledge and skills transfer, community needs, simplicity and positive encouragement at a pace which suits the lifestyle. Volunteers become part of the community and learn just as much from the locals. The idea is to harness volunteers’ skills and put them to use in the various programs. Everyone gets something different out of HUG. The motivation comes from within. There are no hand outs here. Seeds, mushroom spore and animals are provided as loans to be repaid and certain commitments are required. We spent a very relaxed and interesting day with Helen, David and the volunteers looking at some of their initiatives in Lubanda and in the new Suubi Education Centre.

After breakfast in the Suubi Centre we set off on a walking tour of some of the projects around the village. Firstly we had a look at their mushroom project. Initially six women were sent to Kabale to learn how to grow them. They in turn trained another group of ten women who were willing to make the commitment. Before being loaned the spores they had to build a mushroom house, usually out of mud, with a dark and a light room. The spores were repaid to provide the next group of women with an opportunity. They had to learn how to process and dry the mushrooms before they were sold to the guaranteed export market in Kabale. Their success provides extra income and they learn how to manage their savings as well as business skills.

Next was the piglet project. Again very simple, but effective. Australians have donated piglets for Christmas. Instead of giving someone a present, they give a voucher saying they have donated a pig to a specific person in Lubanda (or surrounding villages). When the sows produce, the recipient has to agree to give two piglets from their first litter to another two people. They then have to make the same commitment. We met Babirye, one of the first recipients. Babiyre showed us her very large sow of which she was very proud.

Bright Light Primary School was the final stop on the tour. Here Helen and David have helped the head teacher develop the school garden. The head teacher was sent to Jinja to take part in a training course. There he learned about fertilizing, mulching, growing different types of vegetables and fruit – many not normally grown in the limited traditional vegetable gardens. The diet around these parts would normally be maize, cassava, tomatoes, bananas, onions, some local greens (can’t remember the name) and not much else. The garden was impressive and the head teacher seemed very pleased with it. Some of the produce is used for the children’s meals and the rest is sold to create an income to buy in the staple foods – maize and beans. The garden isn’t big enough to provide all 600-odd students with food all year round. The garden is also an outdoor laboratory providing a medium for learning across a number of subjects from mathematics to health, agriculture and science. It is intended that what they learn at school is practiced at home. The primary school has also benefitted from the donation of an Australian school which raised enough money to provide a rainwater tank and gardening tools. Another very appropriate partnership where both sides learn and grow.

Helen says they try to match up people’s interests. Musicians give drums and other instruments for example. They organise and encourage sports, music and drama events to develop confidence and reconnect with skills they have traditionally been good at. Uganda has had a tough time in recent history due to the regimes of cruel, oppressive dictators such as Idi Amin and his successor in the 70s and early 80s. There was a major conflict with Tanzania which would have affected this region. People here aren’t suffering from extreme poverty anymore, but HUG is helping people move out of a vulnerable zone to become more resilient and better able to cope with hard times. All around, the villagers look happy and healthy.

Back at the Suubi Centre we watched a sewing class. Many women have never developed skills such as drawing, cutting and needlework. Skills were being taught from scratch and both local women and volunteer teachers (like Jan and Sue) were gaining much out of their roles.

Musicians and dancers were practicing for the World Environment Day celebrations (which took place last week and by all reports was a great success) and a computer class was in progress for adult business people. The demonstration garden beside the Suubi Centre is where farmers learn to produce higher yielding crops, using better varieties. Positive results are proof enough for locals to adopt new techniques and encourage learning. There are plans to do more for the men in the community, but this is a young organisation and Helen said they need to ensure each project is up, running and self-sustaining before they introduce more ideas. There are also plans for a health centre.

The women cooked our meals using home grown produce. Initially they had problems with quantity, and the timing of meals, but now they are able to plan and cook great local dishes so that they are ready on time.

Spending a day (and two nights) at Suubi was like staying with one big friendly family. Everyone chipped in and seemed to be having a great time. It was refreshing to watch the reactions of the Tomaino family – straight out of comfortable Melbourne to rural Uganda. There are no Play Stations or televisions here, but Lucynda and Christian seemed to be fully engaged with the local kids and being a part of what was going on. The Tomainos were just there for two weeks, however retired volunteers such as Terry, Sue and Jan could stay for much longer and had different sets of skills to contribute. Helen mentioned that she is looking to encourage the corporate world to get involved in similar ways to the present volunteers but paying more for their stay in the banda accommodation and combining this with some sightseeing in Uganda.

The following day, we all lined up below the new Suubi sign for some photos. All too soon it was time to go. David dropped me off back in Kinoni and I set off on one very long day to Kampala.

To find out more about HUG please visit www.hug.org.au.

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There are so many complex issues to write about that it is impossible to squeeze them all into one blog. The easiest news to describe is that it is great to have Zdenek back. He returned to the expedition, flying in from Europe on the 9^th. In Kigali we stayed at the One Love Guesthouse, part of a self-funding effort for the One Love Project. Profits from the guesthouse, restaurant and bar go towards developing and maintaining orthopaedic workshops in Kigali and Bujumbura (Burundi) which have so far supplied over 6000 prostheses, orthoses, sticks or wheelchairs to those handicapped by the 1994 genocide. We were fortunate to meet Emmanuel, the founder and driver of the project along with his Japanese wife Mami and son. Emmanuel spent time showing us around and explaining about his vision and the organisation.

Emmanuel was himself handicapped as a youngster after an injection during a medical procedure went wrong. He experienced all the difficulties of being handicapped in a society with no facilities or support to accommodate his disability – he is a survivor who had to struggle physically and mentally to be independent.

Emmanuel first had the idea of creating the orthopaedic workshops in 1989, just before the first conflict in 1990. Even then he was a skilled networker. He made contact with a Japanese man who later invited him to Japan to study, complete his tertiary education and learn skills needed to realise his idea of setting up the workshop. As a Tutsi, he was imprisoned and tortured during the early 90s. The One Love Project was established in 1996 in order to support handicapped people to become independent in society. The workshops were opened in Kigali in 1997 and Burundi in 2007.

One Love is now diversifying with warehouses in Miami and Kenya, where handicrafts made by handicapped artisans are sold; profits helping to fund the workshops so that beneficiaries receive their artificial limbs free of charge. The organisation also trains technicians, rehabilitates people with disability to rejoin society, has set up a vocational training school to teach all sorts of skills in business and handicrafts, encourages sports participation to those with disability, runs the guesthouse and restaurant (which provides employment to the handicapped) and many other activities which provide support.

Emmanuel gave us a tour of the workshop. He has sourced materials and equipment from all over the world – Japan, Switzerland, Germany, the US and the UK for example. He also managed the Rwandan team for the Sydney Olympics. It was a moving experience watching new prostheses being measured and shaped, knowing that each artificial limb was going to make a huge difference to someone who cannot afford it. Once receiving the limb the next challenge would be to learn how to use it and to reintegrate into the society where they would have previously been marginalised. To find out more please visit their website at OneLoveProject.org.

The main focus of our journey through Rwanda was to visit and learn about the Mayange Millennium Village. Mayange is the third Millennium Village featured during the expedition – the others being Potou, Senegal and Tiby/Segou, Mali. Those following the expedition from the early days will recall that the purpose of the Millennium Village program across Africa is to implement strategies in villages located in selected vulnerable zones to ensure the Millennium Development Goals are achieved by 2015.

My original connection with the Millennium Village initiative came via Ericsson, one of our gold sponsors who is also a major supporter of the MVs. However since the Mali visit I have also developed a strong partnership with another of the key stakeholders, Millennium Promise who is based in New York. (Please check out the Partners’ page and click on the logos to learn more about both)

Potou and Tiby are both located in the Sahel region. A major reason as to why they are classified as vulnerable is because of their marginal, drought-prone climates with unreliable rainfall. In Mayange, water is still a major issue as it needs to be piped from a reservoir to producers over about 40km (which is expensive), but here the communities are particularly susceptible as they recover from the 1994 genocide.

After our meeting with Emmanuel we were a little late as we set off for Mayange, roughly 40km south of Kigali. Ever since arriving in Rwanda (from Tanzania), the ‘land of a thousand hills’ had been living up to its reputation – it had been an uninterrupted rollercoaster ride over some huge hills – but nearing Mayange, the land flattened out. We stopped in at the office headquarters where Deo gave us a tour of the Millennium Village nerve centre.

When the project was set up in 1996, just two years after the genocide there was no electricity in Mayange and so for practical purposes they had to set up offices in a larger village which had power. Donald Ndahiro, the director of the Mayange MV made time out of his busy schedule to give an overview of the initiatives. While each MV aims to achieve the MDGs by 2015 and there are many common directives, each community has specific issues and challenges to deal with to get there.

Donald outlined what his departments were doing to improve infrastructure and communications, education, farming and agriculture, health and trade/business. I asked whether he thought the initiatives were scalable and appropriate examples which could be adopted by the rest of the country. Donald said that the government had already recognised this and steps had been taken to include some of the strategies as national priority.

We then drove to Mayange where we met Jeanette who showed us around for the rest of the visit. The plan was to see at least one example of each of the main projects. Jeanette’s job involves liaising with the village committees and then communicating their ideas and needs to then report back to Donald and the team. The MV team then assess how a certain directive could fit in to the overall plan – to assist in realising the MDGs. Once a plan is approved, Jeanette would then present a proposal to the village leaders.

Donald mentioned that the MV project has already had much success in improving food security since 2006. Drought protection has been a major focus by increasing crop diversity, improving agricultural techniques and by developing business opportunities, particularly by facilitating the formation of farming cooperatives. Programs including: the artificial insemination of cattle, honey production, fishing, poultry and a cassava processing plant have all been introduced with a focus on skills transfer.

Jeanette took us to meet one of the most successful farmers who has really embraced everything he has been taught – and shown great initiative when new methods did not work first time around. The farmer was so proud of what he’d done in three years. We saw his field of pineapples, mango and avocado trees laden with fruit, bananas, sugar cane, maize, capsicums/peppers, onions, beans and tomatoes. He’d learned how to intercrop and plant nitrogen fixing plants to improve soil fertility. There were drainage channels dug and mulch spread around plants to reduce moisture loss and increase fertility. Everything looked amazingly healthy, including the dairy cows. The farmer could now afford to extend his house and strengthen the walls.

Next we paid a visit to one of the primary schools. More classrooms have been built and teachers provided to improve the student-teacher ratio. School meals are now provided; many of the vegetables are grown in a kitchen garden. Interestingly, in the garden I spotted a moringa tree (Remember this tree is native of the Sahel).

The unassuming-looking tree is like a super-food. Most commonly the leaves are crushed and the powder used to fortify soups, beans and all sorts of things.

The school is very fortunate to have a computer laboratory and WiFi. Students are now able to be computer literate, receiving lessons regularly. Teachers of course have to keep up. Teacher training is provided to keep them up to date. As of last year, children in Rwanda learn in English rather than French.

Many teachers have had to receive English lessons. John thought he would test out the students’ English knowledge and took an impromptu lesson for a year four class. You can see the result…”My name is John”, I live in Scotland.”Where is Scotland?” The students loved it.

Access to health was a major issue before 2006. So far sanitation has been improved with the new water pipeline. Health posts are being set up to take care of simply treatable maladies. Reproductive health was a major issue due to lack of facilities which is now being addressed. A whole new maternity wing has been added. We visited the newborn room. There have also been gains in the uptake of medical insurance with some simple education and promotion. Another big change is that everyone now has a mobile (cell) phone and full coverage thanks to a new cell tower constructed by Ericsson. They all know the free number to dial in the case of a medical emergency which has markedly improved access to medical attention.

After visiting the hospital, next on the packed agenda was a women’s handicraft program. The women’s weaving is to a high standard and an international market is being created. This project and now cooperative helps empower women, allowing them to contribute to the household income and gives them some extra motivation outside the daily grind of farming and bringing up the family.

Finally we were given a tour of the new cassava processing plant. The root from the cassava plant provides the staple food in their diet. The starchy tuber is peeled, washed, chopped in a machine not unlike a wood chipper, fermented, dried and ground into flour. Apparently the processing plant produces a high standard of cassava flour which in turn means higher returns for the farmers of the cooperative. The cooperative appeared to be working well and the workers seemed a very happy bunch.

That was the end of the Mayange tour. A lot was packed into one very interesting day and we sincerely thank Donald, Deo, Miriam and Jeanette for facilitating the visit and making it run so smoothly.

On the way back to Kigali we made a short diversion to see the Nyatama Memorial Site to the Rwandan genocide. John and I had already visited a memorial in Kigali which explains why it happened, events leading to the 100 days of frenzied killing and torture, the lack of response from the international community, the aftermath, child victims and about other genocides which have occurred over the last century. For me (and I think the others too) Nyatama was without doubt the most disturbing, horrific, emotive display I have ever experienced. Before I explain what we saw I think it is important to give a brief background of what I learned in Kigali.

Before German colonisation in the late 1800s and early 1900s the three ethnic groups in Rwanda, the Hutus (84%), Tutsis (15%) and Twa (1% – pygmies) lived in complete harmony, side by side. There is no evidence of any conflict. The Germans decided that the Tutsis, the minority group, were of higher intelligence and began to favour them for all the positions of importance and responsibility. Rwandans were classified a Tutsi if they owned more than 10 cows. The Germans also took anthropometric measurements, classifying a person a Tutsi if they had a longer thinner nose. After World War I, Belgium took over as the colonial power and continued with the same divisive regime. This of course bred descent amongst the Hutu majority which evolved over the next few decades into racial hatred. The first large scale conflict erupted in 1959, around the time of independence. The 1994 genocide was a deliberately planned; its architects (leaders, politicians, the media) manipulating, inciting violence, hatred and deepening divisions within the country. There were many warnings not heeded by the international community. Much could have been done to prevent or at least reduce what occurred during 100 days of madness when the Hutus attempted to eliminate the Tutsis and moderate Hutus who did not want to partake in the ethnic cleansing from the face of the planet.

Nyatama is a monument to humanity at its most evil. Many people fled to the Catholic churches such as at Nyatama to hide and seek sanctuary from the carnage, believing that they would be safe there. Many priests however betrayed their trusting constituents by turning them over to the Hutu murderers. At Nyatama over 5000 people – men women and children – were slaughtered. The aim was not just to kill, but to inflict as much pain and indignity as possible. As we walked in to the rear of the church, thousands of skulls were displayed on the higher shelves; some with spikes and other instruments of murder still embedded. The lower shelf was stacked with limb bones. Victims’ bloodstained clothes hung on the rafters and covered the side walls. There was a certain stench which I will never forget.

To the right of the altar, there was a collection of the victims’ most prized possessions; pendants, crosses, glasses, jewellery, personal belongings. At the altar women were raped, their wombs removed before they were shot. Our guide pointed out the spot where bullets had scarred the concrete. We were taken to the Sunday school classroom behind the church. Here children and toddlers were tortured and killed by being smashed against a wall. The blood stains are still there. Finally we were taken to another adjacent building. There people were wrapped with mattresses, petrol thrown over them and set alight.

I did take a few photos, but decided to delete them all except the one shown (people’s possessions). I have also been deliberating as to whether I should write about what we saw at all. One of the main purposes of the Nyatama and Kigali memorials is to educate people about the genocide in the hope that the world will learn – with even more recent events of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and Serbia, I’m not sure whether the world has learnt, but these monuments send powerful messages and there is always hope. I read in a Ugandan newspaper last week that one of the priests who sought asylum in Finland has been convicted of his horrific crimes and jailed. Life in a Finnish jail might be too good for him, but at least another war criminal is brought to justice. In 1994 over a million people out of a population of seven million were slaughtered. Two thirds of the population were displaced. Many fled to neighbouring countries and 16 years later still not everyone has returned. John drove us back to Kigali. Barely a word was spoken.

We moved on the next day – I cycled out of Kigali and up a beautiful valley, over a high pass and into Uganda. All around me were smiling faces and many men cycled alongside me for a few kilometres at a time.

They have moved on too (at the very least, they get on with life). To see Rwanda now it is hard to believe what happened just a few years ago. Anyone over the age of 16 must have been present and must have some horrific memories, lost family members, been physically injured and mentally scarred. It’s hard to imagine how people can forgive after neighbours turned on each other. The international community has poured huge amounts of money into the tiny country to help Rwanda back on its feet. There must also be a pouring of immense guilt along with that.

This makes initiatives like Emmanuel’s One Love Project even more special – they are really making a difference. What has been achieved in just four years at the Mayange Millennium Village is testimony that Rwandan communities are resilient, proud and able to rebuild even after the most horrific experiences imaginable. They are all moving on to a better life.

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Finally I have managed to draw a new route map which shows the first 17,000km of the journey. Please click on the adjacent icon to see an accurate representation of the route so far (up to Kigali). Entering Tanzania, we moved forward into another time zone – we’re now only 7 hours behind Eastern Standard Time in Australia (and just 5 hours behind WA). The first day in Tanzania was all about sucking in as much air as possible and absorbing a new culture as I cycled from about 500metres near Lake Malawi to 2300metres before dropping back to 1700metres at Mbeya. Initially the road ascended through some wild jungle-like terrain, away from the lake and into the low-level clouds. I saw two troops of monkeys beside the road and stopped to try to film some of them. This wasn’t that easy because they always try to hide by keeping leafy branches in their line of view.

It started to rain heavily as I worked my way slowly up through some extensive tea plantations. Land use from then on became intensive with a variety of vegetables and fruit being grown on terraced plots and for sale beside the road. I was sodden by lunchtime (70km) and so John made soup to warm me up – and to go with the “Obama Buns” he had found in a small bakery. President Obama is a very popular man across Africa, but seems to be even more so as we near Kenya his country of birth. In Mali we saw “Obama” perfume in a store in the town of Nara. I’ve noted children wearing Obama t-shirts in most countries and we see Obama posters everywhere. The Obama buns were actually excellent – very sustaining.

Near the summit I met a German cyclist, Ingor – another tourist riding to the World Cup in South Africa. He didn’t think he would make it to the first match which he reminded me was against Australia. I reminded him not to be too cocky about the match… In Mbeya, John checked with truck drivers who had recently travelled or knew about the route we planned to take through to Tabora. The word generally seemed to be that it was passable for a LandRover, but not a two-wheel drive vehicle. We had been worried about all the rain we were having around Lake Malawi, but the lake creates its own weather pattern and the high mountains form a barrier to the weather. Once over the next huge pass out of Mbeya, we would enter a rain shadow – dropping down to the high central plains. We decided to go for it. The route would be much shorter and I was eager to venture along this little travelled road through central Tanzania.

I was looking forward to tackling the first obstacle – the high pass dividing Mbeya from Chunya – and had psyched myself accordingly. There was no warm up climb – it was simply straight up out of the town. I immediately dropped into the lowest range of gears. The path was extremely steep and stony, so it was a matter of focusing on just in front of the wheel to keep upright.

When I did have the opportunity to look up, the views were exceptional. Mbeya, one of Tanzania’s largest towns, gradually shrunk to appear as an insignificant mark within the immense scale of the valley. I felt extremely satisfied reaching the pass; a sign reminding me that it was the country’s highest trunk road. Whoever wrote the sign was about 500metres too generous with the altitude though, saying it was 2916metres rather than the 2466metres displayed on John’s GPS. The road then wound a convoluted path along a ridge, staying above 2000metres for at least 20km, before dropping down through some treacherous patches of bulldust and on to Chunya.

The following day was marred by slow punctures and a leaking oil seal on John’s rear axle and so we lost time attending to the breakdowns. Punctures are simple to fix, but the LandRover’s problem was potentially serious if John didn’t attend to it straight away. Replacing the seal was a fiddly job in the bush amongst accumulating numbers of sweat bees. Not too much time was lost however and I still clocked 106km, finishing in the dark.

Sunday 30th May started alright and I enjoyed passing through a string of small villages. Then it all started to become heavy going as the path became sandy, especially along the low points. That wasn’t the worst of it though – just as I was struggling through deep sand I was bitten again and again by tsetse flies. Pretty soon a large angry swarm of tsetse hovered around and behind me. My clothes gave no protection. They could bite through my cycle shorts, shirt, gloves and socks. The bites are sharp and painful – sometime deep enough to draw blood. Give me the good ol’ Aussie fly any day. Australian bush flies are just annoying, and during my Australian expedition, once I generated some speed and brushed my shirt a few times I could lose them.

Tsetse however appear to be the athletes of the fly world. Even at 40km per hour, they would easily keep up – I could not lose them. John cycled out to meet me before the end of the first session and he too was attacked. They seemed to disappear in any inhabited area. When we stopped moving, they would soon lose interest and disappear. The trouble was that I had to cycle eight hours a day. For two days that meant I was continually attacked and found myself cycling faster and faster to try and get rid of them – to no avail.

There were few villages marked on our map, but one was Kipembawe. We had expected to find the usual string of shops with little to buy and people milling around, chatting, selling from roadside stalls. Kipembawe was different though. It was completely dead – a ghost town. We never managed to confirm what we deduced from looking at the deserted buildings. A series of houses lined an overgrown street. They were solid well-made brick structures.

The date 1945 was painted on one facade and serial numbers branded each house. We think it was some sort of military outpost built at the end of the Second World War. By whom, we don’t know and no one seemed to know much about it. It was strange that it was deserted as usually in other places we have visited, locals would have moved into the houses or at least reuse all the materials.

The tsetse problem worsened on second day. I started the day wearing a thick cotton long sleeved shirt which also protected my backside a little. They bit straight through that so I added a cycle jersey under it. The double layer of clothing worked, but they just concentrated on other body parts, especially my hands and the backs of my legs. Next I added a waterproof jacket and wrapped the shirt around my waist – a little better. Heading north from the remote village and mission of Kitunda, the problem worsened to a new level. I was travelling under a cloud of thousands of aggressive flies.

My barbag was coated with a thick mass of flies. (In the picture you see, I had tipped many of them off the barbag to retrieve my camera. I had to endure plenty of bites while I took the photo. John said that they would sit on the spare wheel of the vehicle and some would even keep speed as he drove, so he had to keep the windows closed. After lunch I resorted to desperate measures. My full suit of armour included; thick socks, double-lined track bottoms with a pair of cycle shorts over the top, cycle jersey and waterproof jacket, winter gloves, tape around my wrists because they kept finding the gap between glove and jacket, scarf, insect head net. It kept out the flies but was extremely hot. Nevertheless it was relief. There was a lot of sand and a few testing rough patches to endure too, but at least I could relax a little.

Despite the discomfort, we were travelling through a beautiful wild place with no people around – not even a car passed during the night. Setting off the next morning I was prepared for another battle with the tsetse, but it never eventuated. Just as fast as they descended upon us, they disappeared. I noted on the map that we had been travelling across the same latitude as when we encountered the tsetse in Angola, although the problem in Angola was only for about 40km and less intense than in Tanzania. About a kilometre from our campsite John noticed some lion footprints.

Tabora was a big friendly, relaxed African town. We enjoyed a day off there catching up on internet connections and bits and pieces. We’d been led to believe that that was the end of the rough unsealed road and so John switched tyres back to efficient road tyres. Six kilometres out of town however I was back on the dirt. It was heavy going for another day and a half before we finally rejoined the tarmac. Our next major concern was security between Kahama and the Rwandan border.

Even a fellow in a small village, 15km before the bitumen warned that the region after Kahama was still full of refugees who fled from Burundi and Rwanda during and after the genocide. John quizzed a few truckies and learned that the real danger of being ambushed and robbed was after dark, so we proceeded with caution ensuring that we reached the safety of a hotel. This meant lopping off a couple of hours at days end to ensure we were set up before dark.

As we neared Rwanda, the land became very hilly and I was slowed up by a few long climbs. Rwanda is known as “Land of a Thousand Hills”, so I was expecting some hard work. Across the border at Rusumo (spectacular waterfall), many things changed dramatically. It was back to driving on the right hand side of the road. There were a lot more people. Rwanda is a tiny landlocked country with a population of 11 million. Rather than one cyclist joining me at a time, it was more like a peloton.

There were plenty of smiling faces and every time I stopped I was mobbed by a crowd of inquisitive children. There are no plastic bags in Rwanda and the streets are free of litter. Village main streets were clean and tidy with rubbish bins and gardens. There has been a lot of aid money pumped in to Rwanda to help citizens recover from the horrors of the genocide when at least two-thirds of the population were displaced and one million killed.

We made good time to reach Kigali a day early. Zdenek flew in on 9th June to rejoin the expedition. Our main goals were to visit the Millennium Village of Mayange, just south of the beautiful city and learn more about the genocide and how the nation is coping 16 years on.

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John and I had a day’s pit stop staying at the headquarters of Globe Metals and Mining in Lilongwe. Michael, Dominic and Dries made us feel very welcome as we prepared for the next stage, caught up with emails, sent packages back to Australia, fixed bike and LandRover, and had a physical rest. I also did some PR work for Globe in the afternoon, meeting the Deputy Director of Mines, Mr Wona, and his small delegation. Michael, Dominic and I chatted with the group for about an hour or so sitting in Globe’s beautiful back garden. The day passed quickly and soon we were off again, heading north out of the city along the main road.

My goal for the first day was to reach the turn off to Globe’s Kanyika exploration camp, 166km from their Lilongwe headquarters. I cycled alone for virtually the whole day as John had a few chores still to do before leaving the city. Initially the road climbed up about 200 metres and then I levelled out along the high fertile plains, roughly 1200 metres above sea level. The rich red-brown soil and conducive climate means they can grow just about anything. The main cash crops appeared to be tobacco and cotton. It was harvest time for both, being the end of the rainy season.

Small tobacco producers carried their produce to depots either on foot, or by bicycle. With the wind behind me I could smell the distinctive tobacco scent often before the large overloaded trucks passed en route to market. Cotton production was on a decent scale; cooperatives had stacks of bales at their depots ready to be weighed and loaded for transportation. About 45km after the major town of Kasungu I reached the village of Chataloma and the turn-off. The bike was loaded on to the vehicle and John drove to Kanyika through a labyrinth of tracks and small villages. We arrived just after sunset. Lucas, the onsite manager and Cosmos, the cook met and looked after us for the two nights we were there. The camp was quiet as no exploration was going on at present – but it was nice to be able to relax away from the busy city.

Globe has a number of different projects in Malawi. At Kanyika they have found Niobium used to make a specific steel alloy. At Zomba, 300km south of Lilongwe they are involved in a Rare Earth joint venture. Michael explained that rare earth oxides have ‘super conductor’ properties. One of their many uses is to improve the efficiency of some renewable energy resource technologies such as wind turbines.

While at Kanyika, I was particularly interested to visit the local Kanyika Secondary School. Globe had financed the production of 100 new desks, employing local artisans to make them. I was pleased to focus on secondary education as so far during this journey I have concentrated on the importance of primary schooling. Dominic arrived at camp just before 9am, having driven almost 200km – an early start for him. We met and learned much from Veronica, the Deputy Head teacher and Joshua Katete, a new teacher at the school.

The Kanyika Secondary school has four teachers who are expected to teach the 96 students. To cover all the classes, each teacher must be versatile enough to teach four different subjects. Veronica explained that they have to be extremely organised to manage each day, juggling home life, lesson preparation and marking with classes to give the students the best chance of reaching their goals. They had one student qualify for university last year while others were able to move on to their chosen careers. We visited a study class where four senior students were preparing for their final exams; one wanted to be a doctor, another a nurse, one was aiming for the military and the fourth wanted to be a driver.

I was keen to ask about the number of girls enrolled, knowing that educating girls is one of the most important issues to help alleviate poverty in the long term. Veronica said that only about 30% of students are female. The main reason is because of early marriages. Typically girls in rural Malawi get married at around 15 years of age and therefore do not have an opportunity at secondary and further education. She said in Malawi, boys and girls are considered of equal importance (unlike in other cultures I came across in the Sahel). Given the problem Malawi has with population control, encouraging girls to stay in school rather than having children at such a young age would help alleviate one of their biggest issues.

Globe isn’t the only contributors to Kanyika School. Funding has been received from the European Union and the Malawi Government. School fees, which are about $US70 per annum used to go straight to the government to then be distributed to which ever schools they saw fit, whereas now the government now allows the fees to be managed by the school to be better directed to whichever area needs it. I visited a second form class in the original school buildings opposite the new EU funded block. In Malawi there are four forms at secondary level. The class was studying for their biology exams. They were a pretty rowdy lot, so I’m not sure how much study was getting done.

Before leaving, I invited the teachers back to Globe’s camp in the afternoon to try to connect them with the BTC education program. They were keen, arriving at camp in the mid-afternoon. I spent the rest of the day educating them on how to use the internet and set Joshua up with a new email address. Lucas said Globe would support by allowing them to use their computer. I did what I could and really hope it gives them a chance to connect with other teachers. I will be difficult, but Lucas said he would follow it up and encourage Joshua and co.

John and I really enjoyed our time at Kanyika. It was a chance to take a closer look at rural life in Malawi, away from the main roads. We left the following morning, winding our way 35km back to the highway through villages and fields of maize, tobacco, sunflowers, cotton and other produce. There was plenty of evidence of the old British colonial days, when the tobacco industry really thrived. Some of the colonial buildings, now mostly dishevelled, were obviously quite grand.

Back on the road, the distant hills and high plains evolved into some serious climbs. The next evening we stayed in the cheap government run lodge set amongst the pine plantations at 1770 metres. Joseph, the manager explained that they were Mexican pines introduced by the British to kick start the forestry industry. Being so high, we were suddenly in an alpine climate where we enjoyed the warmth of a log fire after John cooked a great vegetable soup. Quite a contrast to the heat and humidity experienced so far during the journey.

The next morning the ascent continued up to about 1900 metres and then a whole lot more arduous work on the bike before descending to Mzuzu for lunch. Some of the cyclists pushing to Mzuzu were carrying incredible loads of firewood to sell. John and I could not work out firstly how they stacked their bikes so high and secondly just how they mounted and manoeuvred them. We talked to and filmed a pair at work – incredible.

Being a decent sized town, we thought we’d find a nice restaurant for lunch for a change from preparing our own food. There I had a brief chat with a couple of MSF (Medicines Sans Frontiers) doctors. I asked what kind of crisis they were dealing with in northern Malawi. The Australian doctor, who had just been with the team for a month said there was nothing specific, more that there were a complete lack of medical facilities and healthcare in the villages. He said that in a village he visited the previous week there were twenty children dead from measles! Hard to believe. The MSF team spent most of their time treating easily preventable diseases.

We turned off the main road to follow the old road from Rumphi to Livingstonia. It wasn’t much extra distance as it ran parallel to the new highway, but the map showed it to be the scenic route. It was good to be off the busy road. I cycled through village after village. Small time tobacco producers were busy with harvest – some drinking a bit too much of their harvest money away in celebration. The track was indeed incredibly picturesque, but it had rained overnight and as I hit the higher mountains near the lake there were steep muddy slopes to contend with. Livingstonia is a mission set up by explorer David Livingstone.

On the finale of the muddy climb to the town, a small truck became bogged in the mud, blocking John’s vehicle. He had to wait until they freed their truck, making a causeway of grass and sticks to give the tyres something to grip.

I simply pushed my bike around the mess and on to the mission. It’s a stunning place; plenty of history and incredible views over Lake Malawi.

Lake Malawi is Africa’s third biggest lake, about 600km long and very deep. It is at the southern tip of the Great Rift Valley which we will be travelling through all the way to where it reaches the Red Sea (also part of the same fault in the Earth’s surface).

I had always wanted to visit the Rift Valley, and so reaching Lake Malawi was an important landmark for me. From Livingstonia it was 18km of extremely steep downhill on rocky slopes with loose large gravel stones. It was a serious workout for my brakes and I eased down the mountain almost as slowly as I climbed it, concentrating intensely on keeping control. It was equally a stern test for the John in the LandRover. Every now and then we would get spectacular glimpses of the lake, right across to the mountains of southern Tanzania on the eastern shoreline.

Ten kilometres down the highway we stopped in at Sangilo Sanctuary Lodge, recommended by our friends from Globe. The plan was just to stop and camp for the night, but it was such an idyllic place, I decided to take our rest day early. Terrific food and company and our own private sandy beach to look out over the lake! Not a bad place to spend a catch-up day. Anne and Ian, who were caretaking the place for ten weeks, really took care of us. Cyril from Resource Star Ltd kindly took care of our expenses.

From there it was a simple day’s ride, passing small villages and rice fields up the coast to through Karonga and on to the Tanzanian border on the Songwe River. I had planned to take the least travelled route from here through central Tanzania to the town of Tabora. The road is not well used and marked as impassable during the wet. It had rained the last two nights and our concern was that this route may not be an option.

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