Kenya

Kenya

With border formalities sorted and the bike in need of minor attention we decided to head directly to Nairobi. Despite a few craters and the usual stray animals the journey didn't throw up anything too problematic. Mayhem, however, would be a good way to describe our first impressions of the Capital where each-to-their-own motorists battle one another - amidst the seemingly oblivious pedestrians - for road superiority.

'Nairobbery' as it's unfortunately known, has received its nickname with just cause. The crime rate spiraled out of control long ago, the self-serving government take little interest in the streets, leaving the police to enforce 'pocket lining' justice. Cab drivers would lock our doors, the receptionist insisted we were collected and deposited directly outside the hotel door. Within 30 minutes of our first stroll along Moi Avenue, two separate strangers had suggested I 'mind my watch'. You think things couldn't get any worse - then you discover matatus!

Matatus

Matatus are the local form of public transport. Brightly coloured 12-seater people-carriers, generally hired for 72+ hour stints. For the operators to make as much money as possible in that time, sleep can wait, passengers are loaded until they literally hang out of the doors and the foot is flat to the floor to cover as much ground as physically possible. Careless, even reckless, cannot begin to describe the breathtakingly stupid manoeuvres that drivers will execute to 'get there first'. To top it all, they are fully aware of their ruthless reputation and paint their vehicles in graffiti-style art with names and slogans like 'Road Kill', 'Savage' and 'In God we trust'! The ghetto blaster, which threatens to deafen passengers and passers-by alike and the fluorescent-blue interior lighting, which turns everyone inside a ghostly white, only serve to add a sense of doom - we walked!

Meeting friends

I'd arranged a full service at Mashariki BMW as I really couldn't be arsed to do it myself. Delivery of our new tyres had been held up and our burdensome bulk over the last 14,000 k's had left our heroic Metzeler Enduros in no fit state to carry us further.

Although inconvenient, it gave us time to catch up with friends. Matt, an old Uni friend of Lucy's who now lived in Kenya and Val, a school teacher who I had met a few years before while travelling in Africa, seemed only too keen to show us the sights. We mixed tourist with ex-pat and visited museums, local markets and 'The Carnivore' (well-known restaurant with a meat-lovers menu!) as well as checking out the nightlife, watching some local rugby and being entertained by Braeburn School teacher's very own version of Pop Idol. It was also good to discover that rugby clubs the world over have the same drinking rules! - with an understandable exception for muslim members who were allowed to down a yard of bitter lemon, which didn't look any easier than downing the alcoholic equivalent!

One evening, we were taken to an Ethiopian restaurant to get a taste of our next destination (excuse the pun). We were looking forward to exploring this unique country. The food, eaten with fingers off a large wicker-basket 'table', and accompanied by live traditional music and dancing only made it seem more appealing.

Back on the road

With the engine purring and the new tyres looking more aggressive than a brothel door bouncer, we headed west towards Lake Naivasha. The road took us via the Rift Valley, one of the world's largest, flanked by distant mountain ranges and extinct volcanoes. Part of the journey was dirt but the going was made easy by the dry earth and the bike's ultra knobbly new boots.

Malu cottages are a small group of holiday lodges situated several kilometres from the nearest anywhere with views across the valley to Lake Naivasha. The cottages are run and owned by Sophie, an old school friend of Lucy's that she had located through the 'friends reunited' website. We spent a relaxing evening catching up and taking it easy before retiring into the luxury that Sophie and her husband Tim have created for their guests.

We spent the next day riding through the winding mountain roads that would lead us to Nanyuki. On our way we stopped to ask directions and, as so often happens in Africa, were pointed directly towards our destination - as the crow flies which, in this case was across a corn field - not much good if you want to know what road to take! When we finally arrived in Nanyuki, a normally spectacular view of Mount Kenya was obscured by rain clouds - this didn't bode well. Nanyuki to Isioli would be our last tarmac before we hit the dirt for the 300k ride to Ethiopia.

German technology

German technology is renowned around the world, quite rightly most of the time, for its excellence. However, every once in a while our sausage chomping cousins take us by surprise with a cock-up of Titanic proportions.

Not ever having owned (or even closely looked at) a BMW motorcycle before, I did wonder what the precariously placed little black 'BOSCH' box was, fitted to the left hand throttle body. "What is it?" I asked John Hill on one of my numerous visits to Bracken MW before we left the UK. "It's the throttle position sensor" (TPS) he said. "Looks a bit vulnerable to me, reckon I should carry a spare?". "Can do" said John "but they cost about £200". So I didn't.

Well I'm sure you know what's coming next ….

Mud, sweat and beers

We rode to Isioli, the start of the dirt road which leads up to Ethiopia, only to find the rain had beaten us. As we sat with the front wheel in mud and the rear on tarmac I had a distinctly unsettling feeling. But we decided to take a look - we were very excited about visiting Ethiopia and were not going to just call it a day.

We squirmed unsteadily through the mud for a kilometre before deciding to turn back. As I slowed down, the bike slide from beneath us and, with duck-landing-on-water grace, we dismounted! The bike landed semi-upside down and it, us and the luggage were caked in a thick layer of sticky mud! Advanced cursing and blasphemy followed.

With the help of a passing road-user (not common on this stretch) we lifted the bike up only to find - yes, you've guessed it - the throttle position sensor dangling several cm's from it's required position. It wasn't even on the side that went down! At this point I discovered that not only is this fragile little unit held on with screws that would be better suited to a hearing aid, but it is also diagnostically set (not a DIY job) and to top it all the bike won't run without it! Fortunately Lady Luck beamed down and by absolute chance I managed to reposition it and got the bike running with a 3-5000 rpm range - good enough for now. With Lucy and the luggage in a Royal Welsh Fusiliers land rover, we limped back to Nanyuki.

After many hours of unsuccessful attempts to refit the TPS, I spluttered the 3-hours back to Nairobi and Mashariki BMW. At this point, we didn't realise just how much things would work against us to prevent us from completing this leg of our tour. I arrived at Mashariki just in time to witness Christopher, who was pencilled in to repair the bike, dramatically crash his bike and hospitalise himself. Fortunately his injuries were not serious and, patched up, he came back the same day to fix our bike! Unfortunately for us, however, every delay was putting us further into the wet season.

To add to our troubles, we heard stories of a military build up around Somalia and Sudan and a worsening bandit problem in north Kenya and Ethiopia - a tourist had been killed a few days before. We sat down to evaluate - tyres late, rains early, bike broken, mechanic crashed, armed bandits and Bin Laden hiding out in Somalia. I don't believe in fate but sometimes you have to read the signs!! It was a depressing decision to make but we decided to freight the bike to the Middle East. Lucy and I bought plane tickets to Cairo. We planned to continue our journey from there and would meet up with the bike again in Jordan.

Leaving Africa

Although Egypt is geographically still Africa, its people and cultures are so different from the Africa we were leaving that we decided to classify it as part of the Middle East. It also made a convenient barrier so that as we flew out of Nairobi we could wish Africa farewell and start on a new phase of the journey.

Goose and I had spent 6 months in Africa travelling up the east coast. This is a well-travelled part of the continent and so the journey had been relatively easy. When we had originally planned the trip we had hoped to travel across western Africa and now we were flying over Ethiopia and Sudan - the only parts of our journey up the east coast which would have posed a real challenge. In some ways we were disappointed but in others it was a relief.

The Africa we had seen is a rapidly changing place, full of contradictions. There is so much corruption and yet so much honesty. People are cruel and superstitious towards each other, but also full of kindness and generosity. There are vast expanses of wilderness - seemingly deserted landscapes that stretch to every horizon. But the moment you stop, there is always someone and if you hang around long enough, there'll soon be a crowd!

AIDS is a huge problem throughout the whole of Africa. Funeral parlours were making a roaring trade. In some streets there were more funeral parlours than fruit stalls. In South Africa, the news was filled with stories of child rapes - witch doctors had spread the word that having sex with a baby would cure AIDS.

In Nairobi, we came across another side effect (although Nairobi is by no means the only city with this problem). Children, many orphaned by AIDS (and often carrying the disease themselves) wonder homeless on the streets begging for a living. To relieve their misery, they carry plastic water bottles with a half-inch of glue at the bottom which they sniff. We saw one child collapse in the middle of the road. Cars swerved past as he crawled on all fours to the other side. Then he sat clinging to a lamppost, laughing, looking like the happiest person alive. It was the saddest sight we saw in Africa.

Outside the cities people take better care of each other and even in the poorest villages the children looked happy and would wave as we passed. Most of the people we met were friendly and welcoming. Being on a motorbike seemed to take people by surprise. They are used to seeing overland trucks and 4x4's, but a big red motorbike is most unusual. I think this was one reason why we managed to get away with so little hassle and amazingly, were never asked for bribes. That and Goose's exceptional 'toadiness' when dealing with officials! He had it down to a fine art and it seemed to work every time.

Politically every country has its share of corruption and instability. Some seem to be over the worst, others about to disappear into the abyss. There are so many things to overcome - oppression, corruption, tribal conflicts, prejudice, superstition, disease and poverty.

We didn't pick up much of the local languages, but those people we met who lived in Africa or who had spent time there told us how much the Africans like to joke and laugh. The white tourist is a particular source of amusement because of their naivety off the African way and because of their arrogance. Matt had once been to the Ethiopian restaurant we went to in Nairobi with a friend who could speak the language. He translated the songs they were singing. Apparently every verse was an ode to the stupid tourist!

So many of the people we met on our journey had warm smiles and lots of laughter - they probably thought that two people dressed up in full bike gear in the heat of the day and claiming to be heading for Australia was the funniest thing they had seen in a long time!

Photographs

Click Here