Saturday, 17th February, 2007

To: Bush Camp Ethiopia #4




Leigh Anne is BACK in action! The problem with being sick is that it's a real waste of time. That's all I can say. Felt like I was missing a lot of Ethiopia. But no problem - we are now back in full form! Yee haawww!

Today I bought 2 traditional Ethiopian stools on the side of the road. Super cool! Just like in that club in Bahir Dar. Carrying them on my bike was no easy task, but, as you can imagine, it created quite some entertainment for the mobs of on-lookers as I and an anonymous helper, tried to get those things attached to my bike. It reminds me of a time once, while cycling in France, when I was with Elizabeth and our bike panniers were loaded, and I wanted to stop and buy a (huge, admittedly) vase. She convinced me not to buy it by saying, "Have you lost your mind?! You can't carry that thing!" Well, fortunately, Elizabeth wasn't with me today because I now have 2 super cool Ethiopian stools to my name. Here is a picture of the stools on my bike. When I got to lunch, I took them off the bike and put them on the truck.

Sadly, the Ethiopian rock throwing children is not a complete myth. Pierre (from Quebec) got hit in the face today, just an inch from his eye. Very scary. I don't know what to say about it. It's strange. Why do they throw rocks? My strategy is: As I'm riding along, I look at the hands of the kids I'm coming up to. If there is a rock, I slow wwaaayyyy down, so that I can ride beside them as they walk/run, and talk with them. Asking all the questions they usually ask us. "What is your name?" "Where are you going?" Then, eventually, "What is that thing in your hand? What is that for?" And then they drop it. The strategy seems to work, but it makes for very, very slow going. Especially if the kids are just being let out of school. You come across a group of them about every 50 meters. You are basically not riding at all, but just riding next to the kids and talking with them, so that you can get them to drop the darn rocks! I was hit in the back just once, and that came out of nowhere - I didn't even see the kid who threw it. Alas.




Fortunately, many of the kids are also super wonderful. Even the rock throwers, if we think about it psychologically, I think they are just looking for attention. I think that's why the "slow down and talk with them - each and every one of them! - strategy" seems to work. Tonight, as we were eating dinner at our "bush camp" a whole group of children came around our camp and they were singing and dancing with enthusiasm! Funnily enough, when I looked over at them, one of my fellow biking friends (whose name will be withheld to protect the innocent) said, "Don't look, it'll just encourage them. Ignore them, or it'll get worse." I'm sorry, but I thought, get *worse*?! But this is beautiful! Mark (from Quebec) took a short video clip of it and told me he'd give me the file. Nice end to a good (and healthy!) day.




I am BACK in action!

(Am seeming to have problem with picture uploading - I may go try another internet cafe.)


------------ TODAY ------------- TOTAL
Cycled ----- 94 km (58 mi) ------- 2,219 km (1,379 mi)
Sagged ----- 56 km (35 mi) ------- 986 km (724 mi)
Total ------- 150 km (93 mi) ------ 3,205 km (2,103 mi)
In Saddle --- 5 hours 18 min ------- 133 hours 51 min
Ascended --- 2,976 feet ------------ 23,976 feet

Friday, 16th February 2007

To: Bush Camp Ethiopia #3

Had one nice stop today, where a little girl kissed me. Too cute! I was parking my bike and doing the whole routine - take off the helmet, lean the bike on something ... when I looked down and saw this little girl looking at me and holding out her hand. For a shake I thought. Smiling, I reached down to shake it. She took my hand in her little teany one, and kissed it! She then looked up at me and smiled, so un-shy-like. When I sat down, she went over to her table with 4 young men at it, I assume one of those men was her father as she seemed to climb all over them. Before leaving, I took her picture and here it is.

Other than the kiss, however, ... still sick. Aaaagh! Felt much better in the morning so tried to ride. But quickly learned that it wasn't going to work out.

Called Annett at night, though, which was nice because she was so happy! She kept saying things like, "Munange! Leigh Anne! Ah!" She might come visit when we reach Arusha - that would be nice.

------------ TODAY -------------- TOTAL

Cycled ------ 28 km (18 mi) ------- 2,125 km (1,321 mi)

Sagged ------ 132 km (82 mi) ------ 930 km (689 mi)

Total -------- 160 km (100 mi) ---- 3,055 km (2,010 mi)

In Saddle ---- 3 hours 30 min ------ 128 hours 33 min

Ascended ---- 1,141 feet ------------ 21,000 feet

Thursday, 15th Feb, 2007

Rest Day - Bahir Dar


Seemed to have gotten sicker last night. Up and down, all night long, to toilet. Was thinking, "When will this end?" and slept most of the day.



But then! At 7:30 p.m., there was a rap-tap-tap on my door. I opened it to find Ashenaffi standing there! Ashenaffi was a nice young man - a security man, working at the hotel. He'd been sweetly worrying about me for the past 2 days. Every time he saw me walking in the hall, or sitting listlessly in a chair at reception, he'd ask, "How are you feeling? Are you any better?" For the last 2 nights, he had been offering to take me out to a club where there is traditional Ethiopian music and traditional dancing. I had declined both nights. That's how sick I was, folks! Can you imagine me *declining* such a thing? He had told me that the best place in all of Ethiopia for traditional music and dancing was right there in Bahir-Dar. I'd had to say, "Gee, sounds great ... but sorry ... just can't. Maybe I'll come back to Bahir-Dar one day." And then go back to my room for more sleeping.


So, there was my friend, Ashenaffi, standing at my door at 7:30 p.m., the evening before we are scheduled to leave. He said, "I just wanted to see how you are doing. I know you're leaving tomorrow. If you can, I would love to show you that music. I think you'll like it." I did a quick mental check of my stomach and was actually feeling fine! Elaine (the group nurse) had given me a bunch of pills, including an anti-nausea pill, just a few hours earlier. This may have explained why I was feeling fine. But I didn't care about the reason. The point was... "Sure!" I said, "Let's go! But not late, huh? Maybe only 1 hour?" Ashenaffi said, "O.k.!"


OH MY GOD! Forget Sudan! I've decided that it is Ethiopia that I love! It was a great night, dampened only by the fact that I wasn't drinking. All the pill packages Elaine had given me said, "No Alcohol." Not that that's ever stopped me before, but I didn't want to risk another 6 days of this Sickness (with a capital S).


This club was so cool, I can hardly describe it. Never seen anything quite like it. We walked in and the little room was full of incense. It looked like there was grass scattered on the floor, but when I asked Ashenaffi, he said it was papyrus, which is always used at weddings and other events with traditional dancing. The seats were stuffed cowhide Ethiopian traditional stools. It is hard to describe this little club much more, but if you can picture a very small nightclub from New Orleans, where you can hear great music but only about 20-30 customers can squeeze into the place, that's what this place was like. Plus, of course, the incense, papyrus, and Ethiopian stools! And the music was definitely not New Orleans style. Here is a picture that might help.


Ashenaffi was drinking beer, while I was on coke. I kept joking with him, though, about how I wanted to just hold and smell his beer, so that I could pretend to be drinking it, even when I wasn't. (This was another huge difference between Ethiopia and Sudan, of course. In Sudan - alcohol is outlawed.) It is unbelievable what an absolute *saint* I was. The whole ambiance and music and friendliness of the (all-Ethiopian) crowd had me in such a mood. When Ashenaffi's breath smelled like beer, that even added to the atmosphere! Eventually, not being able to stand it any longer, I let him order me one. But, as I told him, "This is just so that I can touch it, hold it, smell it, and wet my lips with it so that I can have the taste without actually drinking it." Which is all I did, honest. I'm telling you, I should be nominated for sainthood for that one! In the end, after much teasing, Ashenaffi drank it.


When he walked me back to the hotel, it had been significantly more than the 1 hour I had requested. Not too late though - 10:30 p.m. Every once in a while, my stomach rumbled, but I pretended to ignore it. Ashenaffi and I exchanged addresses. I hope he writes so that I can put the stamp into my non-existent stamp collection.

Wednesday, 14th Feb 2007

To: Bahir-Dar

Sick. Have *never* been sick this long in my entire life. What's going on?

-------------- TODAY ------------- TOTAL
Cycled ------- 0 --------------------- 2,097 km (1,303 mi)
Sagged ------- 60 km (37 mi) ------- 798 km (607 mi)
Total --------- 60 km (37 mi) ------- 2,995 km (1,910 mi)

Tuesday, 13th Feb 2007

To: Bahir-Dar

Sick.

Hoped I was better so tried to ride. Nope. Not better. Any slightest effort made me feel nauseous, so I was going sooooo slllowwwwwly. When the van came by that we rented just for Ethiopia, I got in. Hey! I just thought of something neat! Add another transport mode to the list. Van - tick!

Everybody camped halfway between Gondar and Bahir-Dar. I just decided to go straight to Bahir-Dar (by means of Ethiopian trucker - tick!) and check into a hotel.

Actually, not sure if "Ethiopian trucker" can be considered as a different mode of transportation from "Sudanese trucker". I'll let Chas make the ruling, since he has professional training in judgeship.

------------------ TODAY --------------- TOTAL
Cycled ----------- 28 km (18 mi) --------- 2,097 km (1,303 mi)
Sagged ----------- 89 km (55 mi) --------- 738 km (570 mi)
Total ------------- 117 km (73 mi) -------- 2,775 km (1,873 mi)
In Saddle --------- 2 hours 30 min -------- 125 hrs 3 min
Ascended --------- 450 feet --------------- 19,859 feet

Monday, 12th Feb, 2007

Gondar - Rest Day

Sick.

Apparently, there's a nice castle built in the 1600's, and a famous church, in Gondar. But I didn't see any of that. Sick.

Sunday, 11th Feb, 2007

Gondar - Rest Day

Sick.

The only thing of note is that at one point, when feeling "less sick," I ventured out of the hotel, into town, and got my hair cut at a very local place. Very short, never been this short! Did have enough energy to joke and tease with the barber. Told him I wanted to have a poofy-head haircut, with just one fluff of hair in front, in sympathy with the style I've seen on Ethiopian kids. Fortunately, he didn't take me seriously. In fact, he told me that this was a "village style" and they don't wear that style in towns. Here is a picture of a typical poofy head hair style - very popular! Haircut was a real bargain too - cost $1.25. The barber apologized for the price. Said his usual price is only 90 cents, but he charged extra because I wanted him to use scissors rather than shears and a razor.

Saturday, 10th Feb 2007

To: Gondar

Sick. Upset stomach. Diarrhoea. Went to hotel in the truck. Name of the nice hotel was Goha, in Gondar. Slept. Bummer because the roads were hilly and paved and looked like beautiful riding. Oh well.

--------------- TODAY -------------- TOTAL
Cycled -------- 0 --------------------- 2,069 km (1,285 mi)
Sagged -------- 115 km (72 mi) ------- 649 km (515 mi)
Total ---------- 115 km (72 mi) ------- 2,658 km (1,800 mi)

Friday, 9th Feb 2007

To: Wild Camp in Ethiopia #2

New plan! Some people are EFI - wanting to ride the bike every gosh-darn-golly-goodness inch of the way, without ever setting foot inside a motorized vehicle. Others are fast-bunnies, wanting to set biking speed records. My new plan is to see how many modes of transportation I can use to get across Africa! Today I added an Ethiopian tractor to the list and here is a picture of my friends and their tractor.

It was really neat. There I was, peddling along, feeling tired for no apparent reason other than that the road was rough, bumpy, gravelly, and rocky - and then a tractor came along! The 2 boys motioned to me, as if to say, "Want a ride?" Of course, that could have just been my desire and imagination that made me think they were saying that, but, either way, I thought, "Why, heck yeah!" So, they stopped and helped me and my bike on. I rode with them for a good 45 minutes. They weren't going much faster than a bike, so we probably only went about 10 km, but it was fun! What a neat introduction to Ethiopia.

So, with the new Plan, here is a list of transportation modes so far:

Tour bus (in Egypt)

Boat (Egypt to Sudan)

African Routes Truck (our tour truck)

Donkey Cart (in Sudan)

Sudanese Long-Haul Truck

Ethiopian Tractor

Bike

Have also decided not to pay attention when people tell me what to expect in a country. Was expecting rock-throwing, beastly children, who chase after you, rudely yelling "you! you!" all the time. Instead, what I found (in my, admittedly, only half-day of cycling so far) were many, many curious and outgoing children. They do chase you, but it's with excitement, and I didn't have a single rock hurled at me today. Oh, I'm sure there will be a rock incident before I leave the country, but I was honestly expecting nearly every Ethiopian child to be a rock thrower.

I have noticed already the Ethiopians to be remarkably and noticeably different from the Sudanese. The big new thing is that, because of their "enthusiasm" I guess, they come around in huge masses and crown both you and your bike. The kids like to touch and fiddle with all the gadgets on my bike (e.g., water bottles) and I get worried I'm going to lose something - which wouild be a real bummer for this trip. Fortunately, at my second rest stop of the morning, I met Johannes (John) who taught me how to say, "Don't touch" in Amharik (local language). It's "Atenkaw." So, then, I kept practicing it every time one of the 100 kids staring at me through the door, touched the bike. This was a perfect solution because it allowed me to look friendly, like I'm playing a game (which I was, in a way), while at the same time getting across the message.

Johannes was a very friendly young man who spoke pretty good English. While I was at his coke stop place, Eric (from Sweden) showed up. When Eric and I were leaving, Johannes asked for my address and I decided to give it to him. I hope he writes so that I can put the Ethiopian stamp in my stamp collection. Mind you, I don't actually have a stamp collection, but I'm thinking of starting one.

Eric then rode with me all the way to lunch. Actually, we didn't even make it to lunch. I was so tired and soooo slow that at 2:00 in the afternoon, Thor and the lunch truck got worried and came back looking for us. They found us, not 5 km from where lunch was supposed to be - at another coke stop! It is very hot around here. If you were here, you'd drink cold coke at every opportunity too! Anyway, when Thor showed up, I was busy practicing my few new words of Amharik. Specifically, "Atenkow." Much to everybody's delight. At that time, I was beat, so got on the truck. Eric felt good (he's very strong) so rode the rest of the way.

--------------- TODAY -------------- TOTAL

Cycled -------- 46 km (29 mi) -------- 2,069 km (1,285 mi)

Sagged -------- 48.5 km (30 mi) ------ 534 km (343 mi)

Total ---------- 94.5 km (59 mi) ------ 2,603 km (1,628 mi)

In Saddle ------ 4 hours --------------- 122 hours 33 min

Ascended ------ 929 feet -------------- 19,409 feet

Thursday, 8th Feb 2007

To: Ethiopian Border (Camp Ethiopia #1 - Gall Abat town)

Our last day in Sudan. Slept in a camp, just on the Ethiopian side of the border. Bye-bye Sudan. Hello Ethiopia. A long hard day with some headwinds, but the good news is that I managed to keep up with and cycle with members of our group for most of the day. Hot. It is sad to say good-bye to Abdil. And here is a farewell picture of Sudan - a Sudanese tea lady!

----------------- TODAY --------------- TOTAL

Cycled ---------- 144 km (90 mi) ------- 2,023 km (1,256 mi)

Sagged ---------- 0 ----------------------- 485.5 km (313 mi)

Total ------------ 144 km (90 mi) ------- 2,508.5 km (1,569 mi)

In Saddle ------- 7 hrs 42 min ------------ 118 hrs 33 min)

Ascended ------- 1,580 feet -------------- 18,480 feet

Wednesday, 7th Feb 2007

To: Desert Camp #11 in Sudan (just past El Gadarif)


Happy Birthday, Dad! (<--- that's for the whole world to see)


Clarified the prayer system, but will talk about it at the end of this entry.


The Wind Gods got me today. Couldn't stay on the road in the morning. The second time that I got blown off, it was near a pretty steep slope on the side of the road and I went down the slope and thought I was going to crash into a tree, but didn't, but got a flat tire in the thorns. So, rode very little. All in all, not a bad day, though! After cycling a short distance, I got a lift with the Tour d'Afrique truck to the lunch spot.


From the lunch spot, I cycled a short distance and got a lift with ... a Sudanese long-haul truck! How fun. They sat me in the sleeper part of the cab. There were 3 of them. We chatted as much as possible, given language barriers. Never figured out what they were carrying, but did figure out that they worked with the Chinese, who are doing highway construction. Also, discovered that the police blocks thoughout the country that we seem to breeze through (probably because they are forwarned that we are coming) - these blocks are not so easy for some. We stopped. An official came to the window and said, "Garble, garble, garble," to which the driver responded, "Garble, garble," and handed over some laminated documents on A-4 size paper. The official walked away, and my 3 trucker friends said, "Garble, garble," to each other in irritated voices. They then seemed to agree on something and one of them got out of the cab with some money. When he came back, he had the laminated documents plus a receipt-looking thing. They again said, "Garble, garble," to each other in irritated voices, and then the driver said, "Garble, garble," to the official in a friendly voice, and they drove off.


I hope my description of the event was clear and didn't sound too much like a teacher talking to Charlie Brown.


When the truckers had to stop and let me out, I wasn't too far from El Gadarif. So I rode into El Gadarif (at about 5 miles an hour, with with sidewinds whipping me around). Found a good place to sit on a stool and lean against a wall and people watch. I saw an 80-year-old woman (at least) buying dates. This woman squatted all the way down to the ground and *stayed there* (!) for at least 20 minutes. Fiddled around with her change purse, etc, etc. My god, I couldn't squat down to the ground like that for 20 seconds! Wish I had chatted with her a bit, so that I could feel comfortable taking her picture, but I was just observing.


After leaving El Gadarif, stopped 2 more times before camp. Once at a "convenience store" for a cold drink, where a man wanted to make me part of his harem. Others were listening. I asked, "Are you asking me to be your second wife?" People snickered. He said, "No." I said, "3rd wife?" People laughed. He said, "I'm not married." I said, "Ho, ho, ho, ho!" (He was a middle aged man - of course, he was married!) He later asked if I could give him my address. I shook my head and said, "No." I continued shaking and said, "No, no, no, no." I then switched to Arabic (and continued shaking) and said, "La', la', la', la'." This made everybody guffaw, even the one who asked for the address.


I then took out my novel and read a bit while waiting to cool down. Guess what? I've started reading quite an interesting novel, originally written in Arabic by an Egyptian Nubian named Idris Ali, and then translated. It's about a man and his family who are modern-day Nubians. He makes a lot of references that I don't understand, such as, "The only president who was ever sympathetic to the Nubians was assassinated." Who was that? If anybody can enlighten me, much appreciated. However, one reference I understood very well and so will you if you've been reading this journal from the beginning. The main character in the novel is angry with a lot of things. At one point, the author wrote, "He cursed the river that had surrendered to the dam, and he cursed the whole world, which helped to save the temples, while leaving the people to their fate." Remember the Aswan dam that I wrote about? And how it caused Lake Nasser (which is part of the Nile River) to rise up and flood a lot of things and it was going to cover the 3,000-year-old (Abu Simbel) temple, but it didn't because archaeologists from around the worlds came and saved the temple.


So, after reading a bit, I went back out in the squelching heat, and mosied on my way, amidst many heart-warming "good-bye!"'s.


Didn't go too much further before coming upon at least 1,000 cows. I stopped to gawk and some turbaned vendors, selling fresh cow milk, invited me to join them. I didn't actually drink any milk, but I did take their picture and here it is.

PRAYERS AND POINT SYSTEM
O.k., here's the deal. It turns out I was wrong about getting 7 points when you pray in a group. You actually get 27 points when you pray in a group! So, how do you redeem the points? You get to use 1 point to cancel 1 bad thing you've done (1 "wrong"). The object is to get to the end of your life with a positive balance. That is, with more points than wrongs. If you do, then you get to live happily in heaven. Sounds very simple. After all, if you try to mainly pray in groups, at 5 prayers a day - that's 5x27 = 135 wrongs *per day* that you can cancel! However, there are a few hitches. For example, if you do a wrong against another person, then you can't cancel it with a point. For example, if you steel, then that can only be cancelled by the person forgiving you. Also, I really recommend against murder in this system because, if you murder, then the person you murdered must forgive you for it to be cancelled! Forgiveness from the family isn't good enough - it has to come from the murdered individual. This, of course, is very tricky since he is dead. So, basically, you have to wait your entire life until you die and come face to face with this person again, and that's when you'll know if he's decided to forgive you. Also, once you have a point, you get to keep it forever - you can't lose points. However, the longer I talked with Abdil about it, the more worthless these points seemed. They don't seem to cancel very many wrongs. Abdil did say that they would cancel a "bad thought".

------------------- TODAY----------------TOTAL
Cycled ------------ 38 km (24 mi) --------- 1,879 km (1,166 mi)
Sagged ------------ 97 km (59.5 mi) ------- 485.5 km (313 mi)
Total -------------- 135 km (84 mi) -------- 2,364.5 km (1,479 mi)
In Saddle ---------- 2 hrs 50 min ----------- 110 hrs 51 min
Ascended ---------- 400 feet --------------- 16,900 feet

Tuesday, 6th Feb 2007

To: Desert Camp #10 in Sudan (Just outside of El Faw village)


Very, very hot. Wasn't sure if I was just a whimp, or if it was excessively hot today until I reached camp and Sarah told me that it had reached 108 degrees farenheit today!


The most fun stop I made during the day was at this village, which was a ways off the street. The man in this picture first sold me a coke, then gave me some biscuits, then tried to give me some chocolate, then tried to give me some more biscuits, then offerred to let me take a nap in his house, and finally, as I was leaving, paid me back for the coke and said that it was an offer. Very, very friendly man.


Didn't get a chance to follow up with Abdil about the prayers and point system. Got to camp and was very, very hot and tired. Noted that others were drinking cold cokes. They told me there was a village about 1 km down the road. I almost didn't want to go - too tired. But the thought of a cold coke lured me. Abdil and I decided to bring the backgammon game down and I'm glad we did. No time to talk about prayers because Abdil and I became the highlight of the tea house/soda shop/shack where we sat. Many vendors gathered round to watch, comment, and cheer us on. Mainly they appeared to be rooting for me. Not sur if that's becuase I am a foreigner, or because I was the underdog. At one point, when Abdil was way ahead and smililng greatly and everybody knew he had the upper hand, I pointed at him and said, "He is very, very happy." This made them all laugh. At a later point, a very chatty female customer came in and tried talking with me in Arabic. Just started rambling away. Did she not notice that I was not Sudanese?? I tried conversing with her in my seriously broken Arabic, much to everybody's amusement. Today we started seeing hills and we are now camped at the base of a hill. So, Miss Chatty asked me, "Are the hills (or mountains?) nice?" to which I think I might have answered, "Oh, yes! The hills - very nice! ... The sun - very not nice!" This cracked them up and got everybody to talking about the heat. So, as you can see, no time for prayer talk. But I must get to the bottom of that point system and will try again tomorrow.


Oh. Don't want to forget about the orange. It was amazing. It happened toward the end of the ride, maybe with 10-15 km to go to get to camp. There I was, rolling along. Hot, sweaty, tired. Had already taken one nap about an hour earlier in a shady spot. Was hoping to get to camp without another nap. When what to my surprise, a car pulled alongside me and the passenger-seat man had his window rolled down and he was smiling and he said something. I couldn't hear what he said, but my only (tired from heat) thought was, "What does this man want? I'm in no mood to chat right now." BUt his smile was persistent as the car continued to gently drive along beside me, and this time he held up an orange, and this time I could clearly hear what he said. He said, "Do you want an orange?" I all of a sudden realized that in my present state, I would *love* an orange. So my eyes brightened and I smiled and said, "Oh! Yes!" And he handed me the orange and then the car started to speed up, but I called after it, "You are beautiful!" And he called back, "Thank you!" And then the car drove away and out of sight.


So, I found another shady spot, pulled over, sat down, and ate my delicious orange. As I was eating, I thought to myself, yep, just one more delightful encounter with Sudanese people. From Wadi Halfa to here, I've had nothing but wonderful interactions with the Sudanese. They are amazingly generous, thoughtful, kind, and peaceful. But then I thought about Darfur and slavery. How could these very same people engage in slavery and genocide? It's too startling a contrast and doesn't fit with the characters of anybody I've met. Well, maybe the people doing that are not the same as the ones I've met. But then, who are they? And then I just decided that it was too complicated and I can't figure it out and it needs smart people like Paul Theroux to figure it all out and write it down in a book for us. I can't get my head around more than the fact that the tea ladies sure are really nice. Which reminds me - here is a picture of a typical tea lady. (No - can't get it loaded. By the way, may have to stop with the blog and try again in Addis Abbaba, when internet is a bit faster.)

------------ TODAY ------------- TOTAL
Cycled------- 111 km (70 mi)---- 1,841 km (1,142 mi)
Sagged------- 44 km (27 mi) ---- 388.5 km (253.5 mi)
Total ------- 155 km (97 mi) --- 2,229.5 km (1,395.5 mi)
In Saddle --- 6 hours ---------- 108 hrs 1 min
Ascended ---- 614 feet --------- 16,500 feet

Sunday, 4th Feb 2007 - Picture at the Khartoum Post Office

Oh! I forgot to show you the picture of the guy at the post office in Khartoum who told me not to worry, all was not lost. I wonder if that letter ever made it to the school teacher in Abri-mu-Farka?

Monday, 5th Feb 2007

To: El Hasaheisa, Sudan (North of Wad Madani)

Other than sand, the other main commodity in Sudan is prayers. Sand, sand, sand, pray, pray, pray. Sand, pray. With all the praying going on, what with the 5 times a day rule, I'm surprised it took me a while to notice that I'd never seen Abdil pray. So, we were playing backgammon tonight, and it was his turn to play, when I asked, "Abdil, do you pray 5 times a day?" He said, "Not now because we are travelling." I said, "Oh, really? So you don't have to pray when you are travelling?" He said, "No," and went on to explain, however, that he must make up for all his missed prayers when he finishes traveling. This astounded me, so I said, "ALL of them? You'll be with us for 3 weeks. That's 21 days x 5 prayers a day = 105 missed prayers!" He said that, yes, but he already made up for a few in Dongola, our rest day, because he did 7 on that day. He also did some extras in Khartoum. So, I asked him, "How do you keep track of how many missed prayers you still have to make up? Do you have a check list or something?" I was half joking, but guess what? He *does* have a check list! I said, "No way!" He said, "Yes!"


As long as we were on the topic of prayers, I decided to continue. I told Abdil that I sometimes see people praying alone, and other times they are in groups and it appears that there is a leader. Are the prayers different when they pray alone, or when they are in a group? He said that, no, the prayers are not different, but it is better to pray in a group. I asked, "Why is that?" He went on to explain that if you pray alone, you get 1 point, but if you pray in a group, you get 7 points. What a bargain! I liked this points system and could just see myself as a Moslem, trying to rack up the points. I wonder if eventually you can become a Life Master, like in bridge. If Chas ever had more points than me, I might have to try to fuddle up his prayers so that he'd lose a few. Is it possible to lose points? I must ask Abdil to expand my understanding of the point system.

I then went on to ask about women. "When women pray, are they saying the same thing as men?" He said, "Yes, but when they pray in a mosque, they have to pray at the back." This didn't seem fair to me, but I decided not to mess up our friendship by saying so.

After all the prayer talk was over, Abdil then asked, "Whose turn is it?" I said, "Mine," and took my turn. I know that it is bad to both lie and cheat, but you have no idea how annoying it gets that he beats me all the time! Also, in my defense, (a) he won anyway, and (b) I told him afterward that it hadn't really been my turn.





Here is a picture of me and Abdil, playing backgammon.

---------------- TODAY ----------------- TOTAL
Cycled --------- 115 km (72 mi) -------- 1,730 km (1,072 mi)
Sagged --------- 30 km (19 mi) -------- 344.5 km (226.5 mi)
Total ----------- 145 km (91 mi) ------- 2,074.5 km (1,298.5 mi)
In Saddle ------ 5 hrs 52 min ---------- 102 hrs 1 min
Ascended ------ 600 feet ---------------- 15,886 feet

Sunday, 4th February, 2007

There is just too much to do on a rest day and not enough time for it all! Back at another internet cafe which I had to search for in order to print/fax some signature, and ... anyway, boring. So thought I'd relate today's adventures so far. Not much time, though, because I have to meet Khalid at 5:00 to go over to Tikka Island.

The great news is that this big, fancy shopping centre that I went to had a place where you could develop digital photos in 30 minutes! I thought, "Wow! So, I can print the pictures of that school teachers children!" (The school teacher that I met in Abri-mu-farka.) So, I did that. The next step was to go to the Post Office so that I could mail them, along with 4 post cards that I'd written to friends in Uganda. Well, actually, the Post Office was *not* the next step, which was the start of the whole problem. Instead, being typical me, I wandered about town, stopping here and there. Every once in a while, casually noting the time and remembering that Abdil told me the Post Office would close at 3:00. The last thing I decided to do before finding a Post Office was to go into this big bookstore I passed. Thought I'd browse around a bit. Fortunately, there was not a lot of browsing to be done. All the book were in this strange-looking language. Imagine that! There were only 2 that I saw in English. One was about Visual Basic: 6.0. The other was a random one entitled, "Hamlet: Prince of Denmark". I decided I didn't need either of the 2 English ones, and couldn't read the Arabic ones, so the browsing lasted about 1 minute.

Good thing, too, because then I went scurrying around, looking for the Post Office! At the end, I barely made it there at 3:01! As I rushed into the Post Office compound, saying, "Posta! Posta!" the people in the compound said, "Yes, this is it, but it's closed," and indicated the closed and locked doors. This was real disappointment, because I had really wanted to mail these pictures that I had developed, plus the 4 post cards. So, I could think of nothing better to do than say "khalas!" and sit down in a stool and hang my head and hold my 4 empty post cards with no stamps up in the air in despair. But the kiosk man that was there said, "No, not all is lost!" and showed me that he had stamps! He didn't really say that, he said something like, "Ma khalas," which I have decided to interpret as "all is not lost". I said, "But posta! Posta!" And he got up and showed me the outdoor post boxes!

So, he helped me get stamps on my post cards. That was the easy part. Now came the part where I was supposed to mail a letter and photos to:

English School Teacher
Abri-mu-Farka
Sudan

This, as far as I can tell, is a 3-line address. Really, only 2 lines, seeing as how I'm mailing it from within Sudan. But by the time we'd finished having everybody helping me in writing the address in Arabic, it turned into no less than SEVEN lines! No kidding! There were 3 of them, arguing about how to address this envelope. They kept asking, "Yes, school teacher. But what is her name?" And I kept saying, "I don't know. School teacher. Abri-mu-Farka is a very small village." Then, somebody else would add something else to the address line. Then, somebody asked, "Where?" I said, "Abri-mu-Farka". He said, "Yes, Abri-mu-Farka", but where? I just said, "That's it. Abri-mu-Farka." So, he added something MORE to the envelope, while one of his buddies was saying, "No, no, no, don't write that." Well, in the end, after 7 lines were written, they finally all came to the consensus that, yes, this letter should probably arrive. I showed them the pictures and said, 'Yes, it must arrive. These are the school teacher's children." They said, "Yes, yes, should arrive," and looked at each other in consensus.

So, after I had a picture taken with me and the main helper and his kiosk, which I'll upload next time. Then, one of the other kiosk helpers gave me a free tourist map of Sudan. Isn't that the greatest?

Gotta go...

Response to Monday's Comments - 29th Jan, 2007 - Part II

I decided to give a slightly serious response. If it's really boring to hear Leigh Anne's little philosophies, go ahead and skip this and go to the next entry.

The number one most important thing for a person to have, I think, is pride and a feeling of self-worth. This is more important than anything, including money, etc. If you feel proud of yourself, then that is the most important thing. Of course, that's a bit simplistic. Of course, if a person is going to bed hungry, then pride isn't going to do them a lot of good. But I am talking about almost everybody I know who, although some of them may be "poor" (and that could use defining), they do have enough to eat. So that takes us back to the pride thing.

That man in Dongola to whom I gave my clothes to wash, what choice did I have? That $6 that I gave him, in Sudan, is enough to feed his whole family for a week. (By the way, side point: I thought I was only going to pay $3, but he wanted double because I asked him to have the clothes done by the end of the day, instead of the next day which is what he wanted.) So, what are the choices? I could not give him the job, and wash the clothes myself, for fear of exploiting. But then what? He'd still need to feed his family, and now he has no job. O.k., so I could wash my own clothes and then give him a hand-out of $6 (or however much). That is the route some people go. But I don't think that's any better than letting him wash the clothes. In fact, I would say it is worse because now we are making him a prideless beggar, instead of a man providing for his family. Another option would be to pay *more*, so that we wouldn't call it exploitation. O.k., how much more?

Of course, the whole thing is unfair. It is unfair that I was so lucky and blessed to be born in a country where, with hard work, I can get far and do whatever I want in my life. While many people (this man in Dongola included, probably, though I don't know anything about him personally) can work just as hard as me if not harder, and *still* know that they will live in poverty all their lives. Take my good friend Annett, for example. She works *at least* as hard as I do, maybe harder. But just because she was born in Uganda where education opportunities are not a right but a luxury that is hard to come by, she will never have a pot to piss in. She was lucky enough to get part-way through secondary school, until her sponsor died and that was the end of that. So does that make me a superior person because I managed to get all educated and get a big, fancy job? No, I think it just makes me really unbelievably lucky by birth. It's not fair that I have the luxury of decided whether or not I want somebody to wash my clothes, or clean my bike. That man in Dongola, or Tareg the bike mechanic, they don't have that choice - they're the ones washing the clothes and cleaning the bike! It's not fair, but that is just life, and I don't see how little ol' me can do anything to change it. The only small contribution I think I can make is to try to smile and laugh with people, touch them with some joy, and mostly, let them feel proud of who they are.

So, along the way, I have absolutely zero problem with giving people jobs. No problem with having a house worker, gardener, etc, etc. That's because the option is NOT to give them a job, which I think is worse. I know, my auntie told me that she would not hire them, instead she would want them to "work the land". That is fine and a respectable opinion, but I can say that Irene and Solomon who work for me have no desire to try to live by "working the land".

O.k., sorry for the diversion. You are free to jump on me and disagree.

Saturday, 3rd February, 2007

To: Khartoum

Did it again. Rode hard. But just for a short time. 18 km. The racers were doing time trials today. Last night, in camp, the tour leaders asked if any of the non-regular-racers would like to partake in the time trials. Several people said, "Come on, Leigh Anne, do it, it'll be fun." Don't know what got into me, but I said, "O.k., I'll do that." To which some people cheered.

This morning, it was organised so that the slowest person starts first. Then, people leave in 1-minute intervals, in order from slowest to fastest. So, of course, I was first on the road, at exactly 8:00 a.m. I was surprised that only about 5 people passed me. Here is a picture of one of my fellows (I think that's Andrew) crossing the finish line after me.

This would probably have been an ordinary ol' time trial (of which I have never done a bloody "time trial" in my entire life, so not sure if I'm a good judge of what an "ordinary" one is). The only kink occurred about 3/4 of the way through, when a big herd of camels came across our path. It reminded me. Yep, still in Sudan! Here is a picture of our friends, the camels, along with a few amazed cyclists looking on.

After the time trial, we had to convoy about 30 km into Khartoum, with police escort, sirens, the whole nine yards. Deja vu. Reminded me of Cairo. The first police escort took us 8 km to the suburbs of Khartoum. As we neared the suburbs, we started passing shops and people on the roads and people cheered us on, as though it were the tour de france or something. Apparently, however, these were country police who didn't have authority to enter the Khartoum suburbs. At that point, we all stopped and nobody knew why, but from out of nowhere, a Sudanese shop-owner arrived with a whole crate of cokes and handed them out! Free. I love the Sudanese! After maybe 20 minutes, more police arrived, the Khartoum police. We thought these would be the ones to take us to the Blue Nile campground, where we are staying. We started convoying again, and then something fun happened. As we road along the busy roads (blocking up all traffic, by the way), we kept getting joined by people from the Sudanese biking club. In all, about 10 joined us, and I think a few of them will ride with us all the way to the Ethiopian border (3 more days). But we got as far as the Omdurman-Khartoum bridge and mysteriously stopped again. Nobody knew why for a long time, until we were told that we were waiting for the City Police. While waiting, traffic on the bridge was blocked. We kept joking that of course the City Police couldn't get there, as all traffic was blocked. Well, somehow they arrived and we took off again. You can't see it very well in this photo, but other than our entourage, traffic on this side of the (very busy) bridge has been halted by that official that you see there (that's Eva - Netherlands - in the forground there).

So, we rode over the bridge and got as far as the off ramp. That's when the tour station wagon caught on fire. (The South Africans call this car the "Buckie".) It was in serious smoke from the back, not the front, so couldn't be the engine. We all stopped, doors flew open, and the passengers jumped out. One of the Sudanese cycling club members came rushing over with is Camelbak pack of water. But before he could get there, Abdil (my backgammon buddy) already had the fire extinguisher out. Apparently, it was a battery that overheated, while sitting back there, and then it started burning up something or other. All this while, the Sudanese official guy is yelling at us to "hurry! hurry!" because he's blocking traffic on our side of the bridge until we are completely off. After the station wagon stopped burning up, we continued. From there, we made it to our campground without any more incident.

Just another ordinary day on the tour. And tomorrow is a rest day in Khartoum - yeeaahhhh! Time to people observe. I promise in my next posting to bring you back to ordinary life in Africa. No more racing segments. My friends who know and love me, don't worry, it's still me, deep down, that racing stuff was just a blip on road where I knew there would be no villages anyway.

------------- TODAY ------------- TOTAL

Cycled ------ 52 km (37.5 mi) ----- 1,617 km (1,006.5 mi)

Sagged -------- 0 -------------------- 314.5 km (207.5 mi)

Total --------- 52 km (37.5 mi) -----1,931.5 km (1,214 mi)

In Saddle ----- 2 hrs 39 min ------- 95 hours 58 min

Ascended ----- 250 feet ------------ 15,166 feet

Friday, 2nd February 2007

To: Desert Camp #9

Passed NO villages today and were told in advance that we wouldn't. That's o.k., as we reach Khartoum tomorrow and I look forward to that! Since I knew we'd pass nothing (other than desert, which, o.k., is beautiful, but doesn't talk and can easily be seen at a speed of 15 or so miles an hour), I decided to see how hard I could push myself today.

Pushed as hard as I possibly could for the whole entire day. Have never done that before in my entire life. My view of cycling is generally that "it's all about the stops." But so many people on this tour (not all) are so competitive and racing, that the "bug" is starting to seep in. So off I went in the morning. HARD. Tried to have no breaks the whole day, other than 5 minutes at the lunch truck. Left: 7:20 a.m. Arrived in camp: 1:55 p.m. Total time: 6 hrs 35 min. Thought I was going to die. The morning was fine, up to lunch. In fact, it was really neat because, for the first time ever on this trip, I found about 8-10 others of our group when I arrived at lunch! And the tuna fish wasn't all finished! First time that's happened, as I usually arrive alone, or there might be one other slowpoke there, who'se about to leave. The others were surprised to see me. After lunch, things went fine for another 25 km or so. I rode with a fellow cyclist named Yon (from Netherlands) whom I've never ridden with before because he's usually waaayyyy ahead of me. But then ... that was it. Still 35 km from camp and I died. Told Yon to continue on, I had to go slowly. Rode about another 4 km, slllloooowwwwllly. Looked for shade but couldn't find any, so I just pulled over to the side of the road, layed my bike down, and flopped on the sand. Put my helmet over my face to try to keep the sun out. After a few minutes, Patrick (S. Africa), Andrew, and Remy came by. They asked, "You o.k.?" I just put up my thumb and said, "Fine." They asked, "You need water?" I said, "Nope." So they continued on. After some few more minutes, rose myself and headed to camp, as HARD as I could, for another hour and a half or so. Finally, finally, finally, saw the "finish line" flag and camp! At first I thought it was a mirage (honestly, I really did). But when I realized it really was camp, I found the last gumph of energy that I didn't know I had and FLEW into camp! Everybody who was already there (which was most of them, despite the fact that I was riding as hard as I possibly could today) clapped and cheered!

Flew into camp, put the bike down, sat down, thrust off my right shoe, and poured water from my water bottle on it. My foot was burning up. If you're not a cyclist (like me, heh heh), you wouldn't understand burning up feet. Everybody laughed. Later, as we sat around, Andrew told the story of passing me, lying flat-out in the sand with the sun baking on me, after lunch. I laughed and said, "Yeah, and when I said 'fine', that was a big fat lie. But my problem wasn't anything you could do anything about." People laughed. Many of these friends of mine really are into racing and loving it. Several of them, throughout the evening, gave me big pats on the back and asked, "Didn't that feel good?" All I could think was that it was nice to know I could do it if my life ever depends on it, but I will NEVER do that again!

--------------- TODAY ---------------- TOTAL
Cycled --------- 128 km (80 mi) -------- 1,565 km (969 mi)
Sagged --------- 0 ---------------------- 314.5 km (207.5 mi)
Total ----------- 128 km (80 mi) -------- 1,880.5 km (1,176.5 mi)
In Saddle ------ 6 hrs 4 min ------------- 93 hrs 19 min
Ascended ------- 949 feet ---------------- 14,966 feet

Thursday, 1st February 2007

To: Desert Camp #8

Amazing tail winds today! Flew! Otherwise, more desert. Nothing special, other than the beauty of the desert. Nice, paved road. Lately, days are cooler than they were last week. Headed away from the Nile yesterday, and won't catch up with it again until Khartoum. This may explain why we didn't pass any neat villages today.

Biggest thing of note is that we passed 3 bus stops today. These are places that buses on long journeys stop so that passengers can get food and drinks. Don't think in terms of bus stations like Greyhound bus stations from back in the U.S. No. Think of a few bamboo structures in the middle of a desert, on the side of the road. One of the structures may be used as a kitchen where they prepare bean ("foul") to serve with bread. You can also buy juice, water (bottled), or tea. The smoking pipes (shishas) that I saw in Egypt are not so common in Sudan but I saw them at one of the bus stops. They then usually have tables outside in the shade, where people can sit and eat. That's the picture you must have when I talk of a bus stop.

Anyway, I stopped at all 3 bus stops. The first was in the morning, and I happened to be riding with Tom (from U.S.A.) at that time so we stopped together. Nothing special happened. At the 2nd, after lunch, I was alone. People were a bit friendly. Of note were 6 bearded men, all wearing the long white attire that they often wear here, all eating beans and bread from the same plate, while standing (not sitting) around a table. At the 3rd stop, I caught up with about 8 of our riders.

Speaking of eats, I forgot to mention something that happened in Dongola on our rest day. Abdil, our Sudanese guide, took me to lunch to a very local place. Guess what we ate? Camel liver. It was good and spicey! I loved Dongola! Will also miss Abdil, as he is becoming a nice friend. He's a bit older, with grown children. Nice man.

---------------- TODAY ------------- TOTAL
Cycled --------- 129 km (80 mi) ------ 1,437 km (889 mi)
Sagged --------- 0 --------------------- 314.5 km (207.5 mi)
Total ----------- 129 km (80 mi) ------- 1,751.5 km (1,096.5 mi)
In saddle ------- 5 hrs 33 min ---------- 87 hrs 15 min
Ascended ------- 637 feet --------------- 14,017 feet

Wednesday, 31st Jan 2007

To: Desert Camp #7

Great day! Started off early. Woke early and didn't know what time it was because I couldn't see because I didn't have my head torch. We all wake before dawn anyway, so waking in the dark was normal. Sky was majestic with stars. Saw Southern Cross in a position I'd never seen it before in Uganda.

The first people started passing me after an hour. Eventually, Sarah and Alice showed up and I rode with them most of the day. They are faster than me, but they slowed down a bit and I managed to keep up. Eventually, Marcus (from Germany?) joined us. About 50 km today was on what I kept refering to as an obstacle course road. A lot of getting on and off bikes. The rest was smooth tarmac - yeeaahhhh!

Not a lot of interaction with locals, though some at the truck stop where we hung out for about an hour. BUt I liked riding with our group.

THEN, got to camp, started setting up the tent, and ... found my head torch!

THEN, played backgammon with Abdil (this is becoming a nightly routine). He almost always beats me, but tonight I won 6 games out of 10! This has just reminded me ... I don't think I have a single picture of Abdil. Will get one soon, as he won't be with us for long - only until we leave Sudan.

---------------- TODAY --------------- TOTAL
Cycled --------- 110 km (70 mi) -------- 1,308 km (809 mi)
Sagged --------- 0 ----------------------- 314.5 km (207.5 mi)
Total ----------- 110 km (70 mi) --------- 1,622.5 km (1,016.5 mi)
In saddle ------- 6 hrs 21 min ------------ 81 hrs 42 min
Ascended ------- 730 feet ----------------- 13,380 feet

Tuesday, 30th Jan 2007

To: Desert Camp #6

Really, really bad day so won't write much. Who wants to remember bad days? Felt tired of doing a "solo tour", but can't keep up with anybody. Tire was in such bad shape it looked like it was going to burst, so had to board the truck at lunch. Finally, lost my head torch.

--------------- TODAY --------------- TOTAL
Cycled -------- 67 km (42 mi) --------- 1,198 km (739 mi)
Sagged -------- 40 km (25 mi) --------- 314.5 km (207.5 mi)
Total ---------- 107 km (67 mi) -------- 1,512.5 km (946.5 mi)
In saddle ------ 3 hrs 20 min ----------- 75 hrs 21 min
Ascended ------ 350 feet ---------------- 12,650 feet

Response to Monday's Comments - 29th Jan, 2007

Well done, Leeps! Managed to stir up your viewing audience! Get some passion in there. I really thought my dear Aunt Janet would be the first with an outcry on that last posting, but not a peep from her. That is so completely not possible, that I'm thinking she may not have read it yet.

Funny, I thought, how Jessica's view was so non-chalant. I bet most of my American friends views weren't so non-chalant.

Thanks for writing in, keep 'em coming.

Photos - Wadi Halfa to Dongola, Sudan

We are about three-quarters way from Aswan to Wadi Halfa, when I took a walk around the boat and snapped this photo. Lots of people, plus our bikes are all there. People on the boat were very friendly, as I always find in these crowded conditions. I found a few Sudanese playing cards at one point and they asked me to join - I just watched because I didn't understand the rules. But when I told them that I used to work in El Obeid, one of them said, "El Obeid! That's my home!" and then he exclaimed "Wala!" as though I were his long-lost sister.




I thought this next snap (left) was a really neat one, looking out the front of the boat, as we approach Wadi Halfa.

For those who are a bit curious how we, the cyclers, live, here it is in its glory. We have to fit our lives into those red boxes you see - sleeping bag, tent, everything. We then load our red boxes onto that big white truck you see in the back there. That other truck, the smaller one, that is the one that we see about mid-way through the day's journey and think to ourselves, "Al hamdullillah! Lunch!" This picture was taken at our first camp site in Wadi Halfa, after we got off the boat and finally got through customs.

For the next 2 days after leaving Wadi Halfa, our views were as shown here, from dawn till dusk. Sometimes the road was about like this, sometimes it was deep sand. That's my bike you see there. You can't see me as I'm taking the photo. Quite beautiful, really, the desert. But I was happy when, on day #3, we finally came to some villages, life, and people!

... And that is when I met my little friend and his brother in Abri-mu-Farka, and their mother (the school teacher) asked me to send her the photo, which I'll try to do and hope it reaches them. That door you see in the back is the one I described in that particular posting, when I wrote that, one by one, the family members kept running back through the door and excitedly yelling for others to come.

And the next two photos are the kids and women that I met when I got my ride on the donkey cart. Unfortunately, no photo of me on the cart. I tried to give the kids the camera and show them how to do it, but it didn't work out. However, if you look closely, you'll see my bike handlebars as I took the snap of the kids off the end of the cart. I was on the cart itself when I took that one.

Here is another man on a donkey. He came around and was curious at one of our lunch truck stops. He seemed to like it when I showed him his picture.

And then we passed through ... more desert. And then, to my beautiful amazement, I crested a hill at one point, and my eyes caught this stunning view of the Nile River! What made it so spectacular is that I'd seen sand, sand, nothing but sand, the whole day long. And then ... GREEN!
















Every village we passed had at least one shelter where they kept urns of community water. It was amazing, in that hot, hot weather, how cool (cold, almost) that water was! Sometimes, I'd take a half cupfull and pour it over my head. Finding these water urns was like finding glorious little oases because I knew I'd be cool for about 10 minutes, until the water evaporated.

Dongola! The best! Here is my friend, the camel, the one I found in the downtown metropolis of Dongola.

And we can't leave Dongola without showing you my good friend, Tareg. Tareg was my bike mechanic. After I came back for my bike, later that day, Tareg and I chatted and chatted and Tareg took my bike for a spin, much to the delight of the onlooking kids. When I left the shop (which was just a roadside shop), I sadly thought I wouldn't see Tareg again. But, as I was sitting having tea at the end of the day, guess who arrived? Tareg! He had arrived on his bike, a big one full of whistles and bells. I rose and said, "Tareg!" He said, "Wala!" and we gave each other big hugs, as though we'd been best buddies for years, rather than all of about 1o hours. He then sat down with me and we chatted and chatted, for about 2 hours. That's when I took this picture, which, unfortunately, isn't such a great one of him. He explained to the other customers (his mates, I guess) that I was the woman who was sleeping with a group at the empty zoo - this brought lots of laughter. Then, Ahmed the chef, who called himself "Doctor Ahmed", asked if I could come back the following night because he was serving up chicken, a real specialty. But I had to say that, alas, my group is moving on and I have no choice but to move on with them. At the end, Tareg walked me back to the empty zoo, where we were camping, and he gave me his address so that I could mail the picture. And he told me to please come back one day and visit him and his wife and family. Dongola was the greatest!

Photos - Cairo to Aswan, Egypt

Here are some pictures! This first one is the red carpet treatment we got at the start of the expedition, in Cairo. We had been led by police escort up to the pyramids, where the offical start of the race was. There, the Egyptian Minister of Tourism talked to us and welcomed us to the start of the tour. Here is the picture of it.

Next, here is a guy standing at attention at the Valley of the Kings, outside of Luxor, Egypt. I think he was making sure that grave robbers didn't steal ancient archaelogical stuff.

Here is a picture of one of our Egyptian security guards. I took it at a lunch break at the truck. The truck always stops about half-way through the day, by the way, and gives us lunch - usually, sandwiches and some fruit.

The next two pictures are Chas's train (specifically, the ca-BOOSE), and a neat town built into the rocks, just north of Aswan, Egypt.

Voila! Here is one of the many photos I took of the boat-loading adventure in Aswan, Egypt. This was for our overnight ferry that took us across Lake Nasser to Wadi Halfa, Sudan. The boat was waaayyyyy overloaded. I sat on the upper deck of the boat for hours with my new Egyptian friend that I met, while we watched them load. He was estimating that we would set sail at 6:00 p.m. I was saying, nooo, they'll get it all loaded by the scheduled take-off of 4:00. Well, we set sail at about 7:00 p.m. In this particular photo, the pick-up truck had almost fallen over and a bunch of its cargo had fallen off, creating quite a stir. They then held the truck up with these two pieces of plywood, while they continued unloading. What an adventure that was!