tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56723175418026777692024-03-13T18:10:43.845-07:00AfricaIt should be easyTonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-11559285086325293442012-12-08T05:45:00.005-08:002012-12-08T21:00:54.230-08:00Kenya - The trip ends here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The last week I continued along the coast with Kai and Meike into Kenya but in Diani we split up because Kai wanted to do some kitesurfing and I had my mind set on doing some safari's before I leave for the winter cold of europe.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bagamoyo, Tanzania</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not your typical gas station attendant</td></tr>
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Just when I reached the 40000 km mark, it was time for my first flat tyre of the trip. The heavy duty tube I was using did a good job, but because it was one size too big for the tyre, it was folded inside and this caused it to split. It was a shame it was unrepaireble because in the next days I would have 2 more flat tyres. One on the replacement and one on a chinese one. This proves to me this 4mm thick tube realy was the way to go.<br />
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Luckily, in Africa, help is never far away.<br />
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I booked a 2 day safari for 310 dollar in Moshi. First day we would go to Lake Manyara N.P. and the second we would drive down the famous Ngorongoro crater, a place I wanted to visit since long before this trip.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Manyara</td></tr>
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Although I was focussed on Ngorongoro, Manyara was just as beautifull, teeming with wildlife and stunning vista's. As this is the start of the raining season, half of the days it was pretty cloudy, but the sun would always be present too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red and Yellow Barbet</td></tr>
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The safari was well organised, and my French and Spanish companions and I enjoyed the scenary from the open roof safari vehicle and the lunch box stops surrounded by wild animals.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ngorongoro crater</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the crater</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Meru</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical Maasai footwear from old motorcycle tyres</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maasai fixing my tyre</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bike was airlifted the day I brought it in.</td></tr>
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As I was driving into the gridlocked traffic of Nairobi, my new chinese innertyre was losing air, so I had to stop every 5 km to put more air in. By then, my chinese replacement gps touchscreen also wasn't working any more, so finding Jungle Junction was a challenge, but the helpfull africans once again came to the rescue, and after helping me fixing the flat tyre, the gasstation boss, printed a googlemaps plan to JJ's. I was relieved to drive up to the gate, knowing the ordeal was over. I made it, 1 year and 40000 km through Africa pushed me physically and mentally to the limit. And as I stood there,dirty and tired, I noticed my Yamaha leaked some oil from the front forks onto the front wheel. It was as if we both had to wipe away a tear, both happy and sad it was over.<br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: red;">I just have to thank Geert Van de Gucht here from Brussels Airlines for his amazing help. At the beginning of this year, he drove his bike to Nairobi and as a biker, he knows how hard it can be on the road, and how much you rely on the help of your friends. If it wasn't for him, my trip would have ended in Capetown.</span></span> Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-43656669711965283972012-11-24T09:15:00.000-08:002012-11-28T02:39:45.644-08:00Malawi to Tanzania<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun on the beach at Nkotakota </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Makuzi beach</td></tr>
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Driving with Kai and Meike, we ran into some other motorbike travellers,
even 3 Belgians, but as they were all going south, we weren't to spend
much time with them, still, it's always nice to meet other overlanders,
exchanging stories and tips about the road and places to stay.<br />
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Makuzi beach lodge 50 km south of Nkata Bay, Malawi is one of those vacation brochure type of of places and a real recommendation, cheap, excellent food and just one of the nicest places of the whole trip.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The heat is exhausting</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking shelter during a pourdown</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping is always accompanied by critters of all sorts</td></tr>
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The first days in Tanzania we were accompanied by some rains in the afternoon but we made good progress on the main road from Mbeya towards Dar Es Salaam.<br />
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The road crosses the Mikumi NP and we were delighted to find all sorts of wildlife just next to the road like giraffe and elephant. When I drove into the bush to take a closer look at the elephants, one came charging towards me, making it clear that was not a good idea, so I quickly made a run for it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tanzanian driving style: probably the worst so far</td></tr>
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<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-33278226255301346412012-11-14T08:08:00.001-08:002012-11-16T04:21:25.390-08:00Malawi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shire river cruise at Liwonde N.P.</td></tr>
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I looked forward to Malawi for a long time, being in Southern Africa was nice, but for me, Malawi enbodies the real, raw, black Africa that I enjoyed so much in west & central Africa, but in a nice and touristy setting. So far, it didn't disappoint. I came in via the Mozambiqan Tete corridor, which cost me 86 dollar for a one day crossing from Zimbabwe and spend 1 night at the lovely Doogles lodge in Blantyre. Prices here are affordable for the first time since DRC, cola for 0,5 euro or a half litre of Kutche Kutche beer for a euro.<br />
First stop was Liwonde NP, where a boat trip on the Shire river reveiled an Africa from the documentaries, the riverbanks full of wildlife, all posing willingly for the camera's.<br />
Then a few days were spend at Cape Mc Clear where for the first time in months, I saw some overland bikers arrive. Kai & Meike are driving the BMW's from Capetown to Hamburg in 6 months, and are only 6 weeks into the trip, so they will have to slow down. It was quickly decided that the slowing down would be done together through Malawi, leisurely following the lake northwards up to Tanzania.<br />
First I had an appointment with an old friend, Tony Gahegan, who was my driving companion from Morocco to Mali, was in the capital, Lilongwe, so I spend 2 days in his company. It was good to meet up again and share stories and when I was there he finally sold his bike, so he now can get on to India, on his RTW (roundtheworld) trip. see www.tgon.co.uk<br />
I found Meike & Kai again in Senga, where we had thre opportunity to go on the lake on a catamaran. Having sailed many years with my father I felt I was up for it, but after only half an hour, just as we passed out of sight behind a little island, I managed to capseize it and we soon found out, it wouldn't upright again and worse, it was sinking. The day before, a fisherman was eaten by a crocodile, they only recovered his head, and now we were in the water, holding on to a sinking boat. Luckily we were spotted by another little tourist boat, as Kai was pretty seasick by then. The cat was towed to shore and the damage added up to 2 ripped sails and a hole in the hull, but we were alright, so it could have been worse I guess.<br />
Next stop by the lake was one of the most picturesque of Africa so far, Makuzi beach, 50 km south of Nkatha bay. A little piece of paradise.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chips & salad for 150 Kwatcha</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chain was too loose, easily fixed</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fat Monkeys Lodge in Cape Mc Clear</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Painting the pannier of my bike</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sailing trip ending in a rescue</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kai & Meike on their BMW's</td></tr>
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<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-77299044732205108112012-11-01T01:07:00.002-07:002012-11-04T03:13:01.673-08:00Zimbabwe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I was just transiting Botswana, it was crossed without much thrills and just a few days later I arrived in Zimbabwe, the country of the infamous President Mugabe. In Zimbabwe you can use American dollars, Botwana Pula or SA rand, they don't have their own currency anymore since 2009. This makes for the American dollar to be misused and prices are high everywhere, especially for accommodation and food. Spare change is given in rand coins, but there are not enough coins, so a lot of things cost exactly 1 dollar, or 2 for a dollar, 3 for a dollar and so on.<br />
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At Bulawayo I found a nice overland place 6 km out of town, called Burkes Backpackers where I met a Brit/South African couple, Rachel & Richard and later a Brazilian couple, Flora & Nathan.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nathan, Richard, Rachel & Flora</td></tr>
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From there, it was on to the 'Great Zimbabwe national monument' which gave Zimbabwe it's name in 1980, before that time it was called Rhodesia. It is an impressive site that has the oldest ruins in Sub-Saharan Africa dating from the 13th century. The 3 hour tour took us to the King's Hill complex and the great enclosure with it's high drystone walls.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kings Hill complex</td></tr>
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That night, the 5 of us had a fancy dinner because it was Richard's 40th birthday (mine is coming up soon too) and the following morning I set course for the Chimanimani NP in the Eastern mountains. The road out of 'great Zimbabwe' was one of the most scenic and authentic I have seen in the whole of southern Africa, cutting through the rocky landscape, going round the lake via the dam and all the time passing tiny hut villages. At Chimanimani we visited the bridal veil falls, enjoyed the beautifull natural surroundings and did some shopping in the small but charming village.<br />
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The next days I continued North up to Mutare and into the vumba mountains where I ran into Ana & Evaristo in their Spanisch truck. We met already in Cameroun and DRC and it was a nice reuion. The bunga forest national park proved to be an incredible video opportunity with some nice video of me on the bike and of a pack of babboons.The video is posted below.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slow internet</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1,60 dollar for a methanol blend fuel</td></tr>
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The last days in Zimbabwe will be spent in the mountains North of Mutare, past the Nyagara NP up to the border post with Mozambique.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hilarious advert pushing fastfood into villages</td></tr>
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After a short crossing of Mozambique, I will arrive into Malawi in about a week, which I'm realy looking forward to. I've also started taking anti-malaria medicin again, as in november, the short rainy season is starting here in east africa.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It' can be hard roughing it in the bush</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some positive feedback, always nice</td></tr>
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Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-77675992082693974602012-10-19T07:15:00.000-07:002012-10-19T07:21:44.582-07:00Going back up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After more than a month in South Africa, and 3 weeks in Stellenbosch with Anita and her brother Roland, the decission was made to continue on my trip. It was a bit of a strange string of events. At first, I was traveling alone and on my way to Mozambique, when around Lesotho, I realised I lost my pleasure in riding and even was getting a bit depressed. When Anita told me she was coming to Stellenbosch in 2 weeks time, I turned the bike around, to meet up with her again and after that to just put the bike on a plane home, I was finished.<br />
Or so I thought, Geert, a friend back home suggested to help me put my bike on a plane in Nairobi, Kenya, as from there, there's a good connection to Belgium. Slowly this idea worked itself into my mind, it had some great advantages, I would be able to kinda finnish my trip in a nice way, not aborting it while feeling bad and I would also avoid the troubles of how to get back home via Egypt (or Libya). The road would be easy going and enable me to enjoy another 6 beautiful countries, so that's how the traveling bug infected me again.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road to Botswana</td></tr>
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It was with mixed feelings I said goodbye to Anita, I wish I had found a way to stay with her, but things were complicated. South Africa is a country with high unemployment, low wages and politics that make it pretty difficult for a European to come in and work, but back home I will certainly give it another go. First I'm going to concentrate on getting back home, via Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Malawi and Tanzania I will take a mostly straight route to Nairobi, and if all goes well, I will be back in europe by christmas. Bring on Africa!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Anita in Stellenbosch</td></tr>
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<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-31574456393492074692012-09-16T04:09:00.001-07:002012-09-20T10:56:09.191-07:00Lesotho<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Completely landlocked by South Africa lies the mountain kingdom of
Lesotho, land of no fences. I spent only 2 days here, but it was
absolutely magical and very different from the country it is surrounded
by.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first night camping alone in Africa</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold morning at 2200 m</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It snowed the week before</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spectacular Sani Pass</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh mountain water</td></tr>
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<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-66288976004616034672012-09-12T05:18:00.003-07:002012-09-17T07:44:49.916-07:00South Africa - don't fence me in<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCFBNFO4w7sIU5fXrWYLPQzZvqS-0TerqOcx7KBOzJcuY7G-nyl7jUQHP2llkOX4_keZ6Cw9ZWQFmWU-OrzUPbQegM_PeauWe-jbJFCyF8FelT8vHrQuGBVrDWrYPnLSb0HWAnnVBkXU/s1600/15+South+Africa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCFBNFO4w7sIU5fXrWYLPQzZvqS-0TerqOcx7KBOzJcuY7G-nyl7jUQHP2llkOX4_keZ6Cw9ZWQFmWU-OrzUPbQegM_PeauWe-jbJFCyF8FelT8vHrQuGBVrDWrYPnLSb0HWAnnVBkXU/s400/15+South+Africa.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flowers of Namaqualand</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqmoPy2IYckJNgcE3vKubZ754TcTZFpisiIAo_8D0eIxvNMmYjA9mBMbmkxukViTc274XTVQJnsAtEsQuCiTJYa9ukk0_agiMJnKRXBjoWjCQR-EGEUDBN4htXIFyOFM9rSNdnb0Pr1Q/s1600/P1070391.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqmoPy2IYckJNgcE3vKubZ754TcTZFpisiIAo_8D0eIxvNMmYjA9mBMbmkxukViTc274XTVQJnsAtEsQuCiTJYa9ukk0_agiMJnKRXBjoWjCQR-EGEUDBN4htXIFyOFM9rSNdnb0Pr1Q/s1600/P1070391.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cape Town</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mosselbay on the garden route</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For my Belgian readers: can you read the message?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Desperatly looking for adventure</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahHGZ3EkHII-7ryTI_GfAt7NKmODEg-_3o96hj67dHRnuvXQREZ0FS1s50faqIv0kBKKPzB2hg-iy80EoX77iPRFCyPhJ-qvdUK34RrPb7yt9_LAVqCyZ54uyH0PN2dMIE_ezImP1Utk/s1600/P1070436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjahHGZ3EkHII-7ryTI_GfAt7NKmODEg-_3o96hj67dHRnuvXQREZ0FS1s50faqIv0kBKKPzB2hg-iy80EoX77iPRFCyPhJ-qvdUK34RrPb7yt9_LAVqCyZ54uyH0PN2dMIE_ezImP1Utk/s1600/P1070436.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serkan and Mulat drove the East coast from Turkey</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFniDRVRvNLn-QJOaYisHjEQqB5E10yU4KrN6tLCSkL0hxTVBk_hejni_t1A4XEIUpn-J3Fa17kPSss3Z1y0yDr-QEhhZG9ZS0zqU65hBlvRv2BVr5-J1C3TjAyMPCQyV_WHugJbUDCZg/s1600/P1070475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFniDRVRvNLn-QJOaYisHjEQqB5E10yU4KrN6tLCSkL0hxTVBk_hejni_t1A4XEIUpn-J3Fa17kPSss3Z1y0yDr-QEhhZG9ZS0zqU65hBlvRv2BVr5-J1C3TjAyMPCQyV_WHugJbUDCZg/s1600/P1070475.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeffreysbay, surfers paradise</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqQ5oYq48lgE8_OswcP4umaYG1aFbBtGZvqnnX4jVu7xA5GNHOAJd3QDsxzP8z3NkPLI3umNa_b_OwSh4hkrZWj4T7cIpKQpAeVWzl9bcRySY75FxrW9ZnPkEh232pCCoos509DhMvxQ/s1600/P1070483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqQ5oYq48lgE8_OswcP4umaYG1aFbBtGZvqnnX4jVu7xA5GNHOAJd3QDsxzP8z3NkPLI3umNa_b_OwSh4hkrZWj4T7cIpKQpAeVWzl9bcRySY75FxrW9ZnPkEh232pCCoos509DhMvxQ/s400/P1070483.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the road to Lesotho</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fences, fences everywhere</td></tr>
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I don't want to sound negative about South Africa, but this is how I experienced driving through this wonderful country. The views are amazing but it seems that nowhere you can go into the wild, the sideroads to the left or right are always blocked by gates and fences and it looks like the whole of SA is private property. After spending so many months in West and Central Africa, this is realy hard to get used to, although you can have a wonderfull holiday here, an adventure it is not. And I don't consider myself a tourist anyway, I'm a traveler, and that's a distinct difference.<br />
So I needed to find some rougher place, where I could buy some streetfood or go wildcamping and luckily I quickly found it in the form of the mountain kingdom of Lesotho.<br />
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Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-74912280466063195192012-09-01T10:58:00.000-07:002012-09-05T00:53:39.857-07:00Cape Town<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHXDDK8a5Oicgij1V3iNuAs6lXuZvZZ94AuIU0QvaMlp-FjEGlefsYmqB4-UR3XS2NcHsxFwSovVMkVU3x5e91QicHVq4-7juNd7ZzswL8RFeZBvCnD7Kg_8sZqjT4-PH1NlBmxJRwWeM/s1600/_5256596-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHXDDK8a5Oicgij1V3iNuAs6lXuZvZZ94AuIU0QvaMlp-FjEGlefsYmqB4-UR3XS2NcHsxFwSovVMkVU3x5e91QicHVq4-7juNd7ZzswL8RFeZBvCnD7Kg_8sZqjT4-PH1NlBmxJRwWeM/s640/_5256596-001.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The statistics:</span> </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>9 months</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>15 countries </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>27000 km</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>2 rear tires, 1 front </b>(Tkc 80)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>2 oil change</b><b>s</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>No breakdowns</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>No flat tires! </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Some minor crashes </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Police controls: 99 </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Arrested: 1 </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Bike confiscated: 1 </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>In hospital : 1</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>On antibiotics : 4 times (2 spiderbites) </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>On malarone: 5 months</b></div>
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<b>Food poisening: 0 </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>At dentist : 3 times</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Nights in the tent: +100</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ate rice with beans: +100</b><br />
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Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-27711757278766700902012-08-31T03:57:00.000-07:002012-09-02T05:15:42.730-07:00Southern Namibia<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOliDIwsR7BpoJkKdn3dnp4i9QvQpUM6M9f0Nf-AnXGC_6eJkWu0cm7PvjSNFO52vZH94crWTvydwNNfnt3IKq3YHVDkWDid81yYxgHIa_A2OdD83nKBKyb8h9GXHKz7B13Br2taSVoM/s1600/14+Namibia-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOliDIwsR7BpoJkKdn3dnp4i9QvQpUM6M9f0Nf-AnXGC_6eJkWu0cm7PvjSNFO52vZH94crWTvydwNNfnt3IKq3YHVDkWDid81yYxgHIa_A2OdD83nKBKyb8h9GXHKz7B13Br2taSVoM/s320/14+Namibia-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Signs on the road</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqctuihyphenhyphena4zCh0MehK9ZDa-m_Bi03lV2IV6dXCwz3oB2MjxRbLJCRKsot9PfQCnCInxsHPQbVinhvT1xDHjEvSdPC0oXdh_mxejuCrqzk9B52_9f2LezsrbsoPZJ07RtlkL15_6dBBiC4/s1600/_8178219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqctuihyphenhyphena4zCh0MehK9ZDa-m_Bi03lV2IV6dXCwz3oB2MjxRbLJCRKsot9PfQCnCInxsHPQbVinhvT1xDHjEvSdPC0oXdh_mxejuCrqzk9B52_9f2LezsrbsoPZJ07RtlkL15_6dBBiC4/s320/_8178219.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pelicans and flamingo's at Walvisbay</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandboading </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving out of Swakopmund</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnm4LN6IXuqybCBCOvHTjmOH9BFIVJw284Fz1Nu2C8HXlJkpJCsuWWkCoyrWHSZ0kFM2ay5SNMDV4QJMpIDET53lKaIz5rXGx0peDjy1IA_OcpL40YYGUc-CiT4eyioNa4d7BTuByArY/s1600/P1070289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnm4LN6IXuqybCBCOvHTjmOH9BFIVJw284Fz1Nu2C8HXlJkpJCsuWWkCoyrWHSZ0kFM2ay5SNMDV4QJMpIDET53lKaIz5rXGx0peDjy1IA_OcpL40YYGUc-CiT4eyioNa4d7BTuByArY/s320/P1070289.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sossusvlei</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIG-hy8AuYZZzohyphenhyphenMHwwbEjWVYFfkCsUH0TD9nOkJLLyjm2k5rWCb0QUNGi5O_RNgNWoqW6uuvPQ-L-fzuL_t4N_roGr2yXCAZUYCWUUcV6_noYJ1DDgSCwvbt6b7Ewc2bPXiSDlFrZM/s1600/P1070306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIG-hy8AuYZZzohyphenhyphenMHwwbEjWVYFfkCsUH0TD9nOkJLLyjm2k5rWCb0QUNGi5O_RNgNWoqW6uuvPQ-L-fzuL_t4N_roGr2yXCAZUYCWUUcV6_noYJ1DDgSCwvbt6b7Ewc2bPXiSDlFrZM/s320/P1070306.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadvlei</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going south</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fish River Canyon</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/tGbdq5Xyac4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-4186058592378922272012-08-14T07:40:00.001-07:002012-08-31T07:54:25.808-07:00Winter in Namibia<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Swakopmund</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Swakop from the dunes</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandviper in the same dunes</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">I'm spending the wintermonth of August here in Swakopmund. Most days are sunny however, but Swakop has it's own microclimate and can be cold and misty or even rainy as it is today. Last week we went to Etosha N.P. and visited a farm owned by Anita's family.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swakop beachside</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black;">The list of things to do around here is still long though so I won't get bored before I will restart my journey round Africa in September, first going doing down to South Africa, by then it's the beginning of spring, but probably still very cold and then upwards via Mozambique, Malawi and Tanzania and further on to Burundi, Rwanda and Uganda.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">The bike has been serviced, some parts arrived via the post from Europe and in South Africa I just have to pick up a new front tire and it will be ready for the long way home. Hopefully it will do as well on the way up, with no faults, breaks or even flat tires and then I will need just one oil change and one back tire around Kenya to get me safely in Europe.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vingerklip</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Himba tribe</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to etosha we crossed the filmset of Mad Max 4</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Etosha N.P.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The waterhole at Halali camp</td></tr>
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And a big hello to the guys from <a href="http://www.antwerpcapetown.be/">antwerp capetown</a> for dropping by:<br />
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As you can see I enjoy making video, so here is another one:</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/7iURFCODxVY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7W5Lb8Ya9Tuunc83gbqg_U9ewxtH_pxyEOI48p_0mrFq4NnXeUNctfJUuHwZhh6E2fXaWC5NnuZp_2Esy8Ma1RYwfSDhSaP96Buog9_Cy8tR6VEDj22qzLDwZIlp1pleb5DlOX3y3gWA/s1600/P1070252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7W5Lb8Ya9Tuunc83gbqg_U9ewxtH_pxyEOI48p_0mrFq4NnXeUNctfJUuHwZhh6E2fXaWC5NnuZp_2Esy8Ma1RYwfSDhSaP96Buog9_Cy8tR6VEDj22qzLDwZIlp1pleb5DlOX3y3gWA/s320/P1070252.JPG" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Yamaha Duneworks in Swakop for the service</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-36940750276133198332012-07-27T08:01:00.000-07:002012-07-30T01:35:22.865-07:00Zambia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhU-w8V9IQWy7rBmBu1y-mnR3DmCJs-xaC8eQTgEKkYN3COxZXw9fRpVvESd5LyzV-RbCOQtnRgNcDP-Fu-FVgjVnse9arrQuBaV8uBuMAkjrk5AMxRSeDiQawEW2v7UsWxuol1Wp5b8E/s1600/P1060905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhU-w8V9IQWy7rBmBu1y-mnR3DmCJs-xaC8eQTgEKkYN3COxZXw9fRpVvESd5LyzV-RbCOQtnRgNcDP-Fu-FVgjVnse9arrQuBaV8uBuMAkjrk5AMxRSeDiQawEW2v7UsWxuol1Wp5b8E/s320/P1060905.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was quite a shock to arrive at the Congo - Zambia border, suddenly we were back into civilisation as we entered the newly build and very modern building with at least 8 desks. It was so new that they didn't have signs put up yet so we went from desk to desk to get all the formalities done, making sure we had all the right paperwork and payed all the taxes. So far we didn't bother too much, as we crossed borders and complete countries without even a visa or laisser passez, but something told us this was going to be different, with modern and educated police to fine us for every mistake. That night, after looking in amazement at all the modern shops and restaurants on the perfect asfalt road, we cooked up a celebratory dinner as next morning the group would split up. We travelled together for 4 weeks but now I would go faster and drive to Lusaka on my own. Lusaka was not too crowdy, modern but still definately African and I enjoyed 2 days at a backpackers drinking Hunters cider and updating the blog on the excellent wifi. Then Regis picked me up to make the 2 days drive towards Livingstone. I wasn't going to spend too much time in Zambia, but one thing here is a real must see, Victoria falls are worth every penny the 20 dollar entrance. We scouted the city of Livingstone for cheap accomodation and finaly found a free place at the Rapid 14 campsite of Overland Missions close to the falls. As for the falls inself, just look at the pictures.<br />
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That same day, when driving on the road towards the border with Namibia, which is going through the national park, I saw my first big wild animal on this trip when Regis spotted a giraffe in the bush.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5hHXsRoym0DEPgVBBDbJR7AqL44HQJmhjA4gNVhvWaP06xG0R9EnhRSxDQhoCgAELxrp-wc2uRVlsMZZxTIUpiX21c5bDwXQZvU5xKL53U1gPDCCqwrwadWXZ4lfk7n0WVUYL_giVG8/s1600/P1060973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5hHXsRoym0DEPgVBBDbJR7AqL44HQJmhjA4gNVhvWaP06xG0R9EnhRSxDQhoCgAELxrp-wc2uRVlsMZZxTIUpiX21c5bDwXQZvU5xKL53U1gPDCCqwrwadWXZ4lfk7n0WVUYL_giVG8/s320/P1060973.JPG" width="252" /></a></div>
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Later that day, just arriving in Namibia, Regis blew the turbo on his landcruiser, forcing us to stay 2 days in the border town of Katima Mulilo, where I went on a (chinese) shopping spree. I desperately needed some warmer clothing cause by now, in the South and in the middle of winter, nights were very cold, so cold in fact that I lost all interest in camping. Waking up at 4 o'clock in the night in the freezing cold is not what I had in mind when I set of to Africa. Setting of too early was no fun either, I preferred to wait till 10, when the sun was high enough in the sky to generate some heat. With my clock still on congo time I foulishly miscalculated one morning, thinking it was 6.15, I actually set of at 5.15 in pitch black darkness and soon found myself shivering and was forced to put on all my gear, including the rain overall.<br />
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Luckily I spotted a bushfire on which I could warm myself but one hour later I was so cold again I was thinking of starting another bushfire.<br />
Regis split up to welcome his Chinese girlfriend May who was coming over for a holiday and I speeded up towards Swakopmund, where my girlfriend Anita was waiting for me to arrive for 4 weeks now, she crossed Angola in just 4 days as we went on the DRC detour and I was anxious to see her again.<br />
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It got even colder closer to Swakopmund and the desertlike surroundings reminded me of Mauritania, but soon I was welcomed warmly by Anita and her family. The next weeks I will check out the culture rich city and go on a trip to the Etosha national park and take my time planning my future, Europe or Africa...<br />
<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-30600223955122148472012-07-08T02:44:00.000-07:002013-03-09T03:24:49.786-08:00Alive in Lushi<span style="font-size: large;">"I all became true, everybody I spoke to about the route Kinshasa - Lubumbashi said just one thing: 'You will suffer', and we did..."</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matadi, the day before we left</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congolese traffic</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdypcbGLgYhy2duj0HB8A-rp-JF0-q3GOq49jeJsYvn9mzuEV-R2a9JrFB0xuvcU37OekdZY4wX6JYryL3AA78v8JSiIQewZPnxKiHQvC7tchNc5PDnA2tmB224FBa8Sz-Z7JuNNxOZ4/s1600/P1060600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdypcbGLgYhy2duj0HB8A-rp-JF0-q3GOq49jeJsYvn9mzuEV-R2a9JrFB0xuvcU37OekdZY4wX6JYryL3AA78v8JSiIQewZPnxKiHQvC7tchNc5PDnA2tmB224FBa8Sz-Z7JuNNxOZ4/s320/P1060600.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucky they are not driving very fast...</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...or this happens</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjSIurDvv_MeSQ8TCEkNC2VrQpIMFMTEp_YRj39TwQCa1fxRvYM9fS-o4uRH5zS31Xv2_17mf2QrNVAj3U6CTwkDLFjZrlSIbA4RUSTQtf42YXB-kvzIQlhqQAOkaPbxNDY-7zyEkqhU/s1600/P1060605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXjSIurDvv_MeSQ8TCEkNC2VrQpIMFMTEp_YRj39TwQCa1fxRvYM9fS-o4uRH5zS31Xv2_17mf2QrNVAj3U6CTwkDLFjZrlSIbA4RUSTQtf42YXB-kvzIQlhqQAOkaPbxNDY-7zyEkqhU/s320/P1060605.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Kinshasa to Kikwit is asfalt</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">end of the asfalt at km 622, thanks Kabila</td></tr>
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The first days from matadi to Kinshasa and then Kikwit were spent on perfect asfalt and I tried to enjoy it to the fullest because I was fully aware of what was to come. My thoughts drifted away to Anita, who got her Angola visa and was now on her own travelling down towards home in Namibia, but I was hopeful to meet her in a few weeks from now.<br />
At the end of the first day we arrived late in Kinshasa, and fueled up just before dark. We planned to camp just after Kin but got stuck in the most unpleasant city experience I ever had. Traffic was completely jammed, with 4 lanes of cars trying to leave the city over a half asfalt/half sand messed up road with some concrete blocks lying around randomly. By now it was dark and with no streetlights and thousands of pedestrians crossing the traffic in the dusty chaos, it was just scary, and a shame I have not shot any video. Regis car was rammed and I almost came of the bike driving through a sandy patch but we made it out of the city and stumbled upon a perfect camp place. Nervous first day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hLZ0DLcKtNiRRIn1r2krbLpWrxafJHoXnbDFISolZ-rKNpSJECEaGCG7U5vqeGhVzUUvhYHEM-Jb0qUcYYOp23F7blR58mHeS72jeeQclEpBLbaF0LNLGHkDCbUeiMf28P4XZvg4yMg/s1600/P1060640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hLZ0DLcKtNiRRIn1r2krbLpWrxafJHoXnbDFISolZ-rKNpSJECEaGCG7U5vqeGhVzUUvhYHEM-Jb0qUcYYOp23F7blR58mHeS72jeeQclEpBLbaF0LNLGHkDCbUeiMf28P4XZvg4yMg/s320/P1060640.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Regis came close to tipping the car several times</td></tr>
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100 km after Kikwit it all starts. When we looked at the piste just meters from the end of the asfalt it was apparent it was going to be difficult, and promply decided we would detour via Gungu, which was easier according to the locals. It was not. Pretty soon I was struggling with the fully loaded bike on the sandy truck ruts and I gladly accepted Regis offer, who is also a bike rider, to put the heavy sidecases in the car.<br />
This made a huge difference but still I worried about the lenght of the road to come, will it all be as hard as this?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXBCh8owfupygTk-72bhSD1SMFzRXuqjO6GlrkHWvHQLdYRiN3zDd6X29nJ4xUSle4nVQSnqt1SFJuNHJXOAvMVP52QjkWzek-46brm7NdgAT5sNW2bvoEIJ56mvo0KM3lJiGyccflsQw/s1600/P1060656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXBCh8owfupygTk-72bhSD1SMFzRXuqjO6GlrkHWvHQLdYRiN3zDd6X29nJ4xUSle4nVQSnqt1SFJuNHJXOAvMVP52QjkWzek-46brm7NdgAT5sNW2bvoEIJ56mvo0KM3lJiGyccflsQw/s320/P1060656.JPG" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dry season - Lots of sand</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Lucky for me it was not this hard all of the time, the first 2 weeks I actually had some fun too. It was certainly harder for the car drivers, their cars too narrow to drive into the deep truck tracks, they had to negociate the terrain carefully and slowly. They got stuck many times, and we started keeping scores on the side of each vehicle. Sometimes the sand plates were used, other times Regis' winch, or we just pulled one car with the other one, but the going was slow, I was spending a great part of the day just waiting.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmYrdnLzMG4ZrgpBB0J2NHWlCQWDHHQJJE7-9DHdaJRjCntM246arX8BaYhgosZjIqmElED77tKIFkPmgWDdeMnjTP3lDVQe683S1afJbU-ZxmS1XVb8d0SaUGYlU6du86_3oQB4LueY/s1600/P1060741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmYrdnLzMG4ZrgpBB0J2NHWlCQWDHHQJJE7-9DHdaJRjCntM246arX8BaYhgosZjIqmElED77tKIFkPmgWDdeMnjTP3lDVQe683S1afJbU-ZxmS1XVb8d0SaUGYlU6du86_3oQB4LueY/s320/P1060741.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the 15 checkpoint around Tshikapa</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihCbWvu4Ly6m1ysyFDqokZcPwhucX8T04sgKIXaWjTFIBE9Byi1G_q1uOFqHfN9lc5lMcCKxJjSC0iv1Ja4KKg7lzt4PFLZeCisVgK1D_-4CT1xr090n4tvWIglossbcagwdx2KvRm_d0/s1600/P1060765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihCbWvu4Ly6m1ysyFDqokZcPwhucX8T04sgKIXaWjTFIBE9Byi1G_q1uOFqHfN9lc5lMcCKxJjSC0iv1Ja4KKg7lzt4PFLZeCisVgK1D_-4CT1xr090n4tvWIglossbcagwdx2KvRm_d0/s320/P1060765.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First 1000 km were like this</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The people were also a challenge, their constant demands for money, as soon as they see a white person, became irritating after just a week, and at the campsites every evening we tried another technique. When people stopped and said 'bonjour', we would just ignore them. Not nice, but it worked, because as soon as you say something to them, the demands start, donne moi si, donne moi ca,...they would go on and on without any shame or sence of privacy.<br />
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We were delighted however that after Mbuji Mayi, the people changed dramaticly, they were a lot friendlier and we could have whole conversations without any demands, the whole atmosphere in the cities changed too, we were no longer mobbed, like in Kanaga, where we literally had to flee the city, but were left alone to do our stuff, while people watched curiously from a distance.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playfighting , we encountered no agression, just a lot of demands for money.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The real hero's, the bike pushers!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The convoy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJATz33SxLDeXp7FmrGS_0aA4PNoIVEJ2qjEEvH413ER-PTOm5jkVixGxqa-X8dPYK6-mCKDydjICrcm80xOL4n6GcE5EH1RACTj-7ILtZnxCccbuJTD5g-8bwdVHJKlds8TKKP7Xxlw/s1600/P1060760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsJATz33SxLDeXp7FmrGS_0aA4PNoIVEJ2qjEEvH413ER-PTOm5jkVixGxqa-X8dPYK6-mCKDydjICrcm80xOL4n6GcE5EH1RACTj-7ILtZnxCccbuJTD5g-8bwdVHJKlds8TKKP7Xxlw/s320/P1060760.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tshikapa repair</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tshikapa is about the worst piece on the route and for 3 days we took a guide with us to show us the detours through the villages and the bush, he prooved helpfull, but for the bike it was not realy neccesary as I mostly could follow the push bike tracks and even go driving into the truck tracks, which in the dry season proved not too hard to drive, although my feet were scraping the hard sides of the tracks, and the risk of breaking an ankle was real.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYOB7HJOELPopBv4PIT36p_uR8lhVz9BW8rXSKdGnTyG1YKvZhxJIRiKyqGTd-zpqcM4LnituNNCR6K6MilsapWU1y1ESjjrreHfdLnkgIizWYCJgtqP-oTdb3GfJkBdJbVwa3Z1csJI/s1600/P1060763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYOB7HJOELPopBv4PIT36p_uR8lhVz9BW8rXSKdGnTyG1YKvZhxJIRiKyqGTd-zpqcM4LnituNNCR6K6MilsapWU1y1ESjjrreHfdLnkgIizWYCJgtqP-oTdb3GfJkBdJbVwa3Z1csJI/s320/P1060763.JPG" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sacks are local coffee</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9s28_qmYGEKky8ZzUvT4jU0bGUwzheB4esZ8oDEcrSi_3ryNbfY1Pj7OPAFMltFlSJFLWeqiKz7mM9AbPKVZLVTmvA4VN8g1jBjrg-FiIyU_yixDMWHCyXvZnsYBFD07mlv8kZs2ARoE/s1600/P1060776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9s28_qmYGEKky8ZzUvT4jU0bGUwzheB4esZ8oDEcrSi_3ryNbfY1Pj7OPAFMltFlSJFLWeqiKz7mM9AbPKVZLVTmvA4VN8g1jBjrg-FiIyU_yixDMWHCyXvZnsYBFD07mlv8kZs2ARoE/s320/P1060776.JPG" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Regis drinking cola on his first day of malaria</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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At lac Mukamba Regis came down with malaria and we spent 3 days resting and washing our clothes in the cristal clean lake water on the grounds of a de-mining company, which was a lot cheaper than the catholic mission, who asked 20 dollar for a room without electricity and running water.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XKhQJ82vKObDcEhJnDGjWxF2EBb_zKrh-VMoY3lzDljUCkK9BqNnTjsXs_12ELSKZPYxFjA72Bl7wYZ7GAxNqvL_i4G0xfInuCeIwWM6sas976p-HhJsnEhB_m_KG9nTZ9cwREeyiDQ/s1600/P1060772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XKhQJ82vKObDcEhJnDGjWxF2EBb_zKrh-VMoY3lzDljUCkK9BqNnTjsXs_12ELSKZPYxFjA72Bl7wYZ7GAxNqvL_i4G0xfInuCeIwWM6sas976p-HhJsnEhB_m_KG9nTZ9cwREeyiDQ/s320/P1060772.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6QdDvoLAW-ZaYSytQhsZ4tTcO6qnC4j-XRK6THM8OzeqXNAj6gxBRiMLfwcQ77yFl6bm1jXX7nAhP_7fF2afPAWQCiNIrkGcQTdvxyrKdxPKteyb7CRWcB8Het2YqbA3MbLAEGgWQTg/s1600/DSCF5022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6QdDvoLAW-ZaYSytQhsZ4tTcO6qnC4j-XRK6THM8OzeqXNAj6gxBRiMLfwcQ77yFl6bm1jXX7nAhP_7fF2afPAWQCiNIrkGcQTdvxyrKdxPKteyb7CRWcB8Het2YqbA3MbLAEGgWQTg/s320/DSCF5022.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Fuel prices were at an all time high by now, close to 3 dollar for a liter, this, combined with the abnormal high consumption of the vehicles, made fuel pump visits painfull. Regis got his Landcruser to consume 30 litres of gasoline per 100km, my bike saw record values of 7 litres/100km. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSq66FhD__GM7Co5spBniB6_FedvnJxophgPWtcTdF1cLpf292U3GbLlcM8GUv-xjfPAaFDuiu4Kqaqqz39KD27tSu4qd44O_CU234RolJDSX_-Ong0cfLbcyf4aP4wE1fpRu-SKXbas/s1600/P1060795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSq66FhD__GM7Co5spBniB6_FedvnJxophgPWtcTdF1cLpf292U3GbLlcM8GUv-xjfPAaFDuiu4Kqaqqz39KD27tSu4qd44O_CU234RolJDSX_-Ong0cfLbcyf4aP4wE1fpRu-SKXbas/s320/P1060795.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Most of the bridges are in excellent shape or just newly build as part of Kabila's 'cinq chantiers' but this one was dammaged by a passing truck. It was quickly solved by placing the sandplates however.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-BB1vWhdKe4vzhGEb0jv5yIDr4YluwhKEuFStaS5fJIjQGX-gstf8FWbWFFX5m2MkW3iEJ0gfnflfb_ZbxuzS2HHJWoHYmLVp3pKUtx9-xs-mS1iIiSEC2yMLUbJ7D-XRPNCOPhC_KU/s1600/P1060807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-BB1vWhdKe4vzhGEb0jv5yIDr4YluwhKEuFStaS5fJIjQGX-gstf8FWbWFFX5m2MkW3iEJ0gfnflfb_ZbxuzS2HHJWoHYmLVp3pKUtx9-xs-mS1iIiSEC2yMLUbJ7D-XRPNCOPhC_KU/s320/P1060807.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFhYJXFfFqpx7tAT-7WvqjIUvI4TIV1ptvlgBXUagbQ08Atqv2c1mQYKQA_d8FIfCk_EVW0f-fdN7cDGZ4CgVONOEIRy2-o64gZz6KSr3zQirX8jVWNaFLaVdTuN710JoP5fFgm3xAPA/s1600/P1060815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFhYJXFfFqpx7tAT-7WvqjIUvI4TIV1ptvlgBXUagbQ08Atqv2c1mQYKQA_d8FIfCk_EVW0f-fdN7cDGZ4CgVONOEIRy2-o64gZz6KSr3zQirX8jVWNaFLaVdTuN710JoP5fFgm3xAPA/s320/P1060815.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
The second part of the trip, after Luputa, the road changed into rocky ground with a different kind of sand, the kind they call 'FeshFesh' in Morocco, and is a powder like dust, which covers the whole road and leaves dustclouds that keep suspended in the air for minutes, so we started driving with more space in between the cars to spare the airfilters. The road was following the railroad and was in bad shape, some places resembled a moto-cross circuit and were barely passable for the cars. One of the biggest dangers became concentration, one second was enough to be steering right in to a big hole, or over a big stone, like Thomas and Claus' Landrover when they hit a big one, which bent the steering bar, but the sturdy Landy was still drivable. The scores for getting stuck were by now Mercedes 20 times, Landcruser 15 times, Yamaha, 4 times and the winner, the Landy with only 2 times.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtEuKeMuonS9SqROxYXMcfxzI19tAWZDJW31_qOPXag9knqD4cyW7Ko-ie933N_BrHegD8Em9jNNglQr5k5ul49ho9sJYHYcFqgqKpZfv18YZAVEJ3BNzvIWhT5uZZtH_yNUTU0cKyVyI/s1600/P1060817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtEuKeMuonS9SqROxYXMcfxzI19tAWZDJW31_qOPXag9knqD4cyW7Ko-ie933N_BrHegD8Em9jNNglQr5k5ul49ho9sJYHYcFqgqKpZfv18YZAVEJ3BNzvIWhT5uZZtH_yNUTU0cKyVyI/s320/P1060817.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Working train between Mwenu Ditu and Lubumbashi</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PVWeEtq-08qcKGZn8q1BiB77gly2-IR7-_lu5jGkUQ4n54QIH7rlA3gvmeSwaAFSd1D4zeORaZmd3JYsGZ0F1rn9lM8hdoO-nZspZmGvlpg37Cq4WALHNYWDCkT7OOl6ExFrIyfEPU4/s1600/P1060835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PVWeEtq-08qcKGZn8q1BiB77gly2-IR7-_lu5jGkUQ4n54QIH7rlA3gvmeSwaAFSd1D4zeORaZmd3JYsGZ0F1rn9lM8hdoO-nZspZmGvlpg37Cq4WALHNYWDCkT7OOl6ExFrIyfEPU4/s320/P1060835.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2750 francs congolais or 2,5 euro per litre</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQtY1oNX_Wa6MB8teKVgJaT-JvH7wZaSU_Kml7b1sAAMjM9k6wMmkya3x5_9c3T8Ii1wvr4G01OeGvju9cYrdnoCNagE22v32R4PbPmI6kLNRBwp2fmiNo6JU_kJ3BaAPiJPzrT-zdZc/s1600/P1060854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQtY1oNX_Wa6MB8teKVgJaT-JvH7wZaSU_Kml7b1sAAMjM9k6wMmkya3x5_9c3T8Ii1wvr4G01OeGvju9cYrdnoCNagE22v32R4PbPmI6kLNRBwp2fmiNo6JU_kJ3BaAPiJPzrT-zdZc/s320/P1060854.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the cars again</td></tr>
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For days we were talking how dangerous lack of concentration was on the piste, and in the last stretch it almost resulted in tears for me. I had a bad nights sleep, puked out my dinner around midnight, and felt complete powerless when I started on what supposed to be the last day offroad. At km 65, I had a first warning, when a byciclist stayed in the middle of the road just staring at me, and I hit a big hole trying to avoid him. The front wheel caught air and sent the bike into the bush. The worrying thing is that I didn't see the hole at all. Just 7 km further on, at km 72 that day, and just as I was thinking how I could have easely broken my leg with that crash, I was taken out again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGaTkWnOuVJSK7DNRUshr1-EcoPyStQZmFaOUxPGT_OGljj6EbJRuke4A5MC3_3NOY45u_GxfgFlDTLJbOgugNiHW0Qa1ZzXX49vAEkPolSZZox5-FSzz7ARp4iTvDZwvSKTa7Xbms7k/s1600/P1060862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicGaTkWnOuVJSK7DNRUshr1-EcoPyStQZmFaOUxPGT_OGljj6EbJRuke4A5MC3_3NOY45u_GxfgFlDTLJbOgugNiHW0Qa1ZzXX49vAEkPolSZZox5-FSzz7ARp4iTvDZwvSKTa7Xbms7k/s320/P1060862.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to avoid a bicycle rider...</td></tr>
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I was following the main truck track going through a sandy pit, no different from the million ones I crossed allready, when in a split second the bike went down to the right, catching my ankle under the rear fork and sending me into instant pain. I broke some bones, but never felt pain in the first 30 minutes, this time, I was screaming it out. Problem was that I was pinned down and couldn't get the bike of me, but then the universe was gentle with me, and sent 3 doktors in a car just one minute later. It was the 2nd car I saw that day, and quickly they declared that they were doktors and that the leg was not broken. It was clear however I was not going anywhere anymore that day and while I waited for the painkillers to start working, I hoped I could drive the next day.<br />
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Next day I my ankle was good enough to try to drive, and at 15 km/h I started to drive the last bit of piste.. Soon the road improved and we were all extatic to reach the asfalt today, cause that would mean the end of the suffering. We did eventually reach the asfalt, but the first bit of main road towards Likasi was appaulingly bad, even worse than the piste the day before, it was the last sting this road delivered, it was over, we did it, the vehicles were still running, we were alive and well, and only 100 asfalt kilometres away from Lushi....<br />
Never again, enjoy the video:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/LlTOYBeeLYU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/UNkfBvkz79A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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This is a link to a kmz file in which you can see the actual route on Google Earth:<br />
<br /><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/kmzrouteafrica/central-africa">route central-africa</a>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-57231553825648661612012-06-12T03:57:00.001-07:002012-08-14T07:52:20.328-07:00Through DRC...Today was our last chance to get the Angola visa. We were summoned to the embassy, together with our group and the vice consul of Belgium to speak to the vice consul of Angola. Innitially the vice consul was very possitive and he realy wanted to help us get the transit visa, but after a few phonecalls it was apparent that he could do nothing. Because of the elections in august in Angola, all transit visa's were blocked, the only option for tourists is now to get the visa in the home country, and this was no option for our group, now 5 people from different countries, as it would take too long and cost too much. Most of us were allready more than 2 weeks in Matadi so we needed to make a decision. Luckily Anita got her visa sent by DHL today from Namibia, were she is resident, but the rest of us are condemmed to the long and hard Kinshasa - Lubumbashi road. Once in good condition under Belgian rule in the 50'ties, now only accessible during the dry season by some trucks and pushbikes. It is regarded as one of the most difficult roads in the world and our only advantage is that all of us researched this road for some time now. My friends (www.roamingafrica.be) did this road last year and their gps track will be our guiding line through the DRC, 2000 km towards Lubumbashi and then onto safe and modern Zambia.<br />
Tomorrow morning we will leave, not stopping in Kinshasa, to make our way round Angola and it's retarded visa pollicy. This time, my fear outweights the excitement big time, it won't be easy. Expected next blog entry: in at least 3 weeks. Wish me luck!Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-3945709460971587862012-06-05T08:35:00.001-07:002012-06-05T09:12:29.307-07:00Congo Brazza to DRCFrom Dolisie, we made a 4 day tour to Pointe Noire to get some repairs done on Thomas' car and in the mean time, try our luck at the Angolan consulat. As expected, the consulat didn't even let us in, saying that no tourist has got the visa there, ever! With the repairs done we returned for a short stop in Dolisie and then went onto the piste towards Mindouli, where we would turn right to avoid Brazzaville and Kinshasa alltogether, as the ferry between the 2 countries is often referred to by overlanders as ' the worst experience of the trip' and we heard stories of tourists being put in jail on the Kinshasa side for no apparant reason.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEaK0lkxSDiVVjLVW58VX30vFUbkgZNXELWyv3UA9GdSE3FTTwgyfY4D_5s7E7NNFdyNvj8RhjjYN9Py0dkGMpe_kxlJQSlTxEjHF02d9NjRu5efVWbFJ57gzAMhillMsrFHNCGurCrw/s1600/P1060264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEaK0lkxSDiVVjLVW58VX30vFUbkgZNXELWyv3UA9GdSE3FTTwgyfY4D_5s7E7NNFdyNvj8RhjjYN9Py0dkGMpe_kxlJQSlTxEjHF02d9NjRu5efVWbFJ57gzAMhillMsrFHNCGurCrw/s400/P1060264.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congo looking to the border of DRC</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mindouli trainstation</td></tr>
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The piste turned out to be alright and posed no problems now that we arrived in the dry season. Once we got to Mindouli, we had ourselves stamped out of the little Congo and were on our way to the dreaded DRC border.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcFeTLpBzHrz1KznAXOVS1AIQmkqL_b-zmY8yHKy6YpekpYVxE-Bl8kUsB2juFRBZqtQb-F_TgpR4UB4hjvVac1LQJjQDVQaCp_xmokdsXqsdzBd-E9ohoN84jh1zoPwGAhN5k0ZkCfw/s1600/P1060332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcFeTLpBzHrz1KznAXOVS1AIQmkqL_b-zmY8yHKy6YpekpYVxE-Bl8kUsB2juFRBZqtQb-F_TgpR4UB4hjvVac1LQJjQDVQaCp_xmokdsXqsdzBd-E9ohoN84jh1zoPwGAhN5k0ZkCfw/s320/P1060332.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Towards the border post</td></tr>
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We had some trouble finding the little road into the mountains towards the border post and again we spend hours inbetween borders, strugling with badly rutted steep inclines before we arrived at the tiny post of Nzala, where we changed some money and nobody even mentioned the fact that we got our visa in Gabon and not in our home country. We were put onto the right grass overgrown track towards Luozi by the border people and arrived a little later at the family of mister Fidel at Moutanga Ntende, where we spent our first night in Drc.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6IoFw3SO1w4v2sgcUq2yTnPWPcq7l9YtJJAfNhlr_OUV9iA3x5taj-cFkjiVlvc3KyS2X6c7gvahCgtK-CPeyctC83mxYCe7QvlAhal7ny1IRr7y2DhORtLEZgpGNaol9Le_HaXPtEs/s1600/P1060342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6IoFw3SO1w4v2sgcUq2yTnPWPcq7l9YtJJAfNhlr_OUV9iA3x5taj-cFkjiVlvc3KyS2X6c7gvahCgtK-CPeyctC83mxYCe7QvlAhal7ny1IRr7y2DhORtLEZgpGNaol9Le_HaXPtEs/s320/P1060342.JPG" width="320" /></a> It took us two more days to arrive at Luozi along beautifull but hardgoing pistes, but as my bike suddenly and mysteriously consumed 50 % more fuel, I ran out of petrol just 20 km short of town centre. Luckily Thomas had some 2 stroke in his generator, which worked fine. The DMG (immigration services) where already waiting for us as they were telefoned from another village we crossed, and this time they made us pay 10 dollar for filling in the information form, witch we reluctantly paid after getting a receipt. We would soon learn that the DMG would turn up just everywhere, even at a mountaintop bush camp, but mostly they where friendly and just wanted to write down our names.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Webcam fun</td></tr>
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In Luozi, Thomas decided to take the ferry, and me and Anita took on the piste that stayed on the North of the congo river as the scenary was just unbelievable and the roads were challeging but not too hard.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bit muddy, otherwise fine...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">160 euro worth in Congolese Francs</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIuQ-UmoGuA-SFBhfjuzXcDw4RfO-mNxkVwvTveagryjsCpOxlIl1-2Oq9UcmowsDrvly47s-2nzIBgMAqgm8WESYDRJKVtF_Or9aMwkvl8zsgcxSuluR_n0hdjBnMl9R6hf-0pNN1KyU/s1600/P1060401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIuQ-UmoGuA-SFBhfjuzXcDw4RfO-mNxkVwvTveagryjsCpOxlIl1-2Oq9UcmowsDrvly47s-2nzIBgMAqgm8WESYDRJKVtF_Or9aMwkvl8zsgcxSuluR_n0hdjBnMl9R6hf-0pNN1KyU/s320/P1060401.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We even spent an extra day just camping in the mountains so it took another 3 days to finally arrive at the bridge over the mighty congo at Matadi.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pushbike, the main transport of goods to small villages</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not going hungry on the piste</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">DRC holiday</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No phone reception all the way to Matadi</td></tr>
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In Matadi, which proved to be quiet larger than expected, Regis, our French companion, was getting the visa formalities sorted, as he was there for already more than a week. He made good friends with a lady who worked in the embassy of Angola, but as the embassador was out on holiday, we had to wait till next week.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matadi</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best campspot ever</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matadi by night, having some fun with long exposure shots</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boma, looking at Angola at the other side</td></tr>
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As we had some time to kill, me and Anita went out of town, first to Boma, but as that was a bit of a disapointment, back towards Matadi, into the mountains that overlooked the city. When checking out a little village near the river, and as we both were out of the car admiring the view of the congo, some kid reached into the car and stole my Ipod. I only realised it that evening and the next 2 days we visited the village to find a solution.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLoTmUQNyrFecRnJHZaCX-oQHpWDOiXf99RZzB-CrnUQq6xIX44m2zyyIjnqbApewyPQgqZzb_v8X_AdWuLNxvGLCLZ0XwmcDrkVtwifED-LAvMvU8J6mNzklmRpOagwJupjYTQU9Hps/s1600/P1060454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLoTmUQNyrFecRnJHZaCX-oQHpWDOiXf99RZzB-CrnUQq6xIX44m2zyyIjnqbApewyPQgqZzb_v8X_AdWuLNxvGLCLZ0XwmcDrkVtwifED-LAvMvU8J6mNzklmRpOagwJupjYTQU9Hps/s320/P1060454.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At this moment, my Ipod was swiftly grabbed from the open car</td></tr>
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It was a bit surreal, the whole village knew about the theft, but explained it was already sold and they could do nothing, but after talking to the village chief, a big mama and some staged drama, the next day the Ipod turned up again, and I paid them a little compensation, as the story was the mama had to buy it back with her own money and the thief was on the run. We didn't let it get to us as we found a real perfect camp place on top of the mountain, overlooking the little thieving village and the bright and big Matadi.<br />
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Last news: well nothing, still waiting to get permission to apply for the Angolan visa ....Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-39897455437787385312012-05-20T08:30:00.000-07:002012-05-21T09:56:53.065-07:00From Gabon to Congo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The convoy. Regis went ahead to DRC.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridge to Lambaréné</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lambaréné center</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1P_9FH8ojExTfi44eWb4pcxhyFwPAVGbnhgsJ6nxHAWSKhly61Ka-z9W0Ete3BDxfivCUrMaPXJTwe3BscFnaqDxcAvDrBqGiRGjnTXN1910Pljp0Yp_h_BLsafnUY7k5sKdwVy4WDg/s1600/P1060207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu1P_9FH8ojExTfi44eWb4pcxhyFwPAVGbnhgsJ6nxHAWSKhly61Ka-z9W0Ete3BDxfivCUrMaPXJTwe3BscFnaqDxcAvDrBqGiRGjnTXN1910Pljp0Yp_h_BLsafnUY7k5sKdwVy4WDg/s400/P1060207.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Albert Sweitzer hospital, where we camped for free</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On one of the many bushcamps..</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiulAZxAda657oEbv-9iVCfjs-HK-geJIb4tVykEY8hM9JG5SV9RP_eQ188Koc91gTCr-SuHVV2BW-kekUIJdzt_V1VRogSgCFTjefDycIu7zwCzGruFEDKrYtGCR67M9K8E_O7Wybz-zs/s1600/P1060227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiulAZxAda657oEbv-9iVCfjs-HK-geJIb4tVykEY8hM9JG5SV9RP_eQ188Koc91gTCr-SuHVV2BW-kekUIJdzt_V1VRogSgCFTjefDycIu7zwCzGruFEDKrYtGCR67M9K8E_O7Wybz-zs/s320/P1060227.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">..we enjoyed the sunset</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5NSMUnuhJ_HFHW02Ck96bX5wC28bxNdCWf7v4TJSVItdSHdM8XBovjnUvLVfcgJZNsbUiWz3Dajy2aWyymZGfhmnKHDO69y_i_Sg0iYQJaJGVEnw5WKglTTuYkjR-7GSECPPNrr2mys/s1600/P1060241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5NSMUnuhJ_HFHW02Ck96bX5wC28bxNdCWf7v4TJSVItdSHdM8XBovjnUvLVfcgJZNsbUiWz3Dajy2aWyymZGfhmnKHDO69y_i_Sg0iYQJaJGVEnw5WKglTTuYkjR-7GSECPPNrr2mys/s320/P1060241.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome in Congo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4z16-eStRvWW9iO_Hx3Bxgrf-MnMa-rYEeByiR-oEtXYEMpBfP7DZa16XXOFQpEkxRJSHsRCb9w1MBzSLo7pdhe4MifR7IXCGXfCeEEPyT6CK2a52kulTRhxRNnTl1d8r6b7-I4Z1DM0/s1600/P1060246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4z16-eStRvWW9iO_Hx3Bxgrf-MnMa-rYEeByiR-oEtXYEMpBfP7DZa16XXOFQpEkxRJSHsRCb9w1MBzSLo7pdhe4MifR7IXCGXfCeEEPyT6CK2a52kulTRhxRNnTl1d8r6b7-I4Z1DM0/s320/P1060246.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody does what he can</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIEP8ItRI1d3HqjOrBCA11ZepF2_WE0VQQt6de_cNQjjMsZWtrcQD8y2zGCyYIlvZS0ziHbuqxK6rHr_I09-k3puWyfPYMlX3wi7V7EsaE4eIKqyRjdcv_hy9P1HMN0PvPuhc8zuYfNY/s1600/P1060252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIEP8ItRI1d3HqjOrBCA11ZepF2_WE0VQQt6de_cNQjjMsZWtrcQD8y2zGCyYIlvZS0ziHbuqxK6rHr_I09-k3puWyfPYMlX3wi7V7EsaE4eIKqyRjdcv_hy9P1HMN0PvPuhc8zuYfNY/s320/P1060252.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congo drivers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcEK4BvS_gitIuXJizkg5n3QAIema_2ejh7A-TDD-R2OJdrbqC9AImcoavPHkVUusT4ulUEwk_sCqiLyHmH4IXhGPj2wG06d0-ittwfRuotBeYTbMfYjxwfoPm-inIkjxIlAqy5AlWbc/s1600/P1060257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcEK4BvS_gitIuXJizkg5n3QAIema_2ejh7A-TDD-R2OJdrbqC9AImcoavPHkVUusT4ulUEwk_sCqiLyHmH4IXhGPj2wG06d0-ittwfRuotBeYTbMfYjxwfoPm-inIkjxIlAqy5AlWbc/s320/P1060257.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lay it down gently</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZibvXRCakuPdlBro9KmapDHkJMnCqPA4TN5K5eY0r80A1AAm61FBuKOKSXVwcRUY9DK4YVNR5_DwCTSiGkgOMbogtsoDp3LVoqqswuJJrPGqiMNAFktM-Vq7mj5OFvo-CbdvQuiQU40w/s1600/P1060259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZibvXRCakuPdlBro9KmapDHkJMnCqPA4TN5K5eY0r80A1AAm61FBuKOKSXVwcRUY9DK4YVNR5_DwCTSiGkgOMbogtsoDp3LVoqqswuJJrPGqiMNAFktM-Vq7mj5OFvo-CbdvQuiQU40w/s320/P1060259.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It will get even worse</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETtL5JRqBfBrIQwNWJhXsBJlXciHRB91dN5bWWCpFL4amIVH_dGj7Ixe0Rgz1jUI9CpxJhhmgi9JOJKpbKZKma2JhhOVPurVuB7pUaldO7FU9ZrfeWGgtu-EyxEdefTRE183IfS3faG0/s1600/P1060264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETtL5JRqBfBrIQwNWJhXsBJlXciHRB91dN5bWWCpFL4amIVH_dGj7Ixe0Rgz1jUI9CpxJhhmgi9JOJKpbKZKma2JhhOVPurVuB7pUaldO7FU9ZrfeWGgtu-EyxEdefTRE183IfS3faG0/s400/P1060264.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stunning Congolese landscapes</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/eSMK2ATB5R8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-18874677463647184832012-05-10T07:36:00.001-07:002012-05-11T04:16:36.493-07:00Gabon - central Africa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2egwkpZuJ40JEhF_SfPLqduimWexO1mAJ8rOb_M0UPuR9E7kpGJdnPpFH2C4Xrj7tA44ULThLtsE9DtUxRzdpTy9VHm2FrL3lrpY-rCCDZaE-UAL7Uh-YWlE0l84EB01Xk0O1qzpar0/s1600/_5065861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2egwkpZuJ40JEhF_SfPLqduimWexO1mAJ8rOb_M0UPuR9E7kpGJdnPpFH2C4Xrj7tA44ULThLtsE9DtUxRzdpTy9VHm2FrL3lrpY-rCCDZaE-UAL7Uh-YWlE0l84EB01Xk0O1qzpar0/s320/_5065861.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7YQIH9hRjfg9qIl0DbWQbPhM55rOYSgohaYXbBBs0QpDg7iO-eb3NTANvcOzUOkI5b41xJrimSSNkA5seX6zP5eiIoRyS2iLkavsCTgQdJf5WWCXgrOaCGBjJwXPek4GUSa_hPyaI-OU/s1600/_5075910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7YQIH9hRjfg9qIl0DbWQbPhM55rOYSgohaYXbBBs0QpDg7iO-eb3NTANvcOzUOkI5b41xJrimSSNkA5seX6zP5eiIoRyS2iLkavsCTgQdJf5WWCXgrOaCGBjJwXPek4GUSa_hPyaI-OU/s320/_5075910.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After 5 months and 16000 km, I passed the border to Gabon. Again, most
of us got through a country without insurance, a stamped carnet or laisser
passer. One of our group even had a 3 month expired visa, and although there
was no shortage of checkpoints, every time we bluffed our way through, showing
plastificated copies or just our european insurance. Swithing subjects or
language would also work when talking to police, as does listing all the
countries you passed through to get there. After shaking their head in
disbelieve, they would just wave you on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzezig0wjE9npiQ5BKeTDatLgtqFXBX39R6kKglxTcHT72JUnnld9aeKJ30oVynuxb9OgJjoYPMYIwWLWoAhd5PnkYnnBSef6DJ4l7sdfykDgjj5-319Ao0-_tijfac59mG64ASgm7S6I/s1600/P1060119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzezig0wjE9npiQ5BKeTDatLgtqFXBX39R6kKglxTcHT72JUnnld9aeKJ30oVynuxb9OgJjoYPMYIwWLWoAhd5PnkYnnBSef6DJ4l7sdfykDgjj5-319Ao0-_tijfac59mG64ASgm7S6I/s320/P1060119.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can't believe it took me 5 months to get here!</td></tr>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first days in Gabon we finally crossed the equator while enjoying
the perfect asfalt moutain road towards the turnof to Libreville. This road is
a real bikers dream through dense rainforest following the big Ogooué river for the
last 100 km.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuN7B6FpgDn3j11pP-W4cFvbjAcFGCGtlNxad5BSDkTNyc8Y1WU7vL4qPfFqZI_U9kBloc_4hqAWaHHHGmP2se-46kmDl70SQlCgIrxx4pxSVmWFrO229lcl79u0pvDmJlMbIniAagJHs/s1600/P1060125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuN7B6FpgDn3j11pP-W4cFvbjAcFGCGtlNxad5BSDkTNyc8Y1WU7vL4qPfFqZI_U9kBloc_4hqAWaHHHGmP2se-46kmDl70SQlCgIrxx4pxSVmWFrO229lcl79u0pvDmJlMbIniAagJHs/s320/P1060125.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the fast flowing Ogooué river</td></tr>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Here me and Anita made a bushcamp near the river at a real idylic
place, and as we checked out the dense bamboo we heard branches breaking
followed by a very big splash in the water. We froze for an instant, as we both
realised it could only have been a big crocodile, but we didn't see it, nor any
other that evening.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWgA19yT6vLSEulQetZ32BJkU9xXmvUasPvl5d8O5z8VF6I4kcY_mloQ4CpIZwR2e0kKonFECtRdxdcaGok-JRlsm_FwWIWi1MPJLALu9bK4cEkCkwDEaUJlOrK1erTw7kK1M0_hqRe8/s1600/P1060129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWgA19yT6vLSEulQetZ32BJkU9xXmvUasPvl5d8O5z8VF6I4kcY_mloQ4CpIZwR2e0kKonFECtRdxdcaGok-JRlsm_FwWIWi1MPJLALu9bK4cEkCkwDEaUJlOrK1erTw7kK1M0_hqRe8/s320/P1060129.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> A bit later it began raining hard without warning, so we
retreated in the car and the tent and later took a nice rain shower, all the
time watching out for more crocs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpl4OIlQJos6gvsSi3Wx12FFq8Hq0du4IvEwHhMse7NsVihRG2cykHl07LQXMDjjPHu4EDeUMJ2-zfIU5j6uo06K5JKkNmwIa8SMW50WaQ4RmNo791qrfMuLhyMTnUxvYfmQU-LI5pIQ/s1600/P1060137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGpl4OIlQJos6gvsSi3Wx12FFq8Hq0du4IvEwHhMse7NsVihRG2cykHl07LQXMDjjPHu4EDeUMJ2-zfIU5j6uo06K5JKkNmwIa8SMW50WaQ4RmNo791qrfMuLhyMTnUxvYfmQU-LI5pIQ/s320/P1060137.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;">
<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last bit to Libreville was the usual african potholed asfalt and we
found cheap accomodation at the 'Soeur Bleu' as we applied for the last visa's
on our way down the west coast. The Congo 'Brazza' visa was no problem and also
the DRC visa's seem to be handed out without trouble here in Libreville (40000
CFA for one month, one photo + application form). There is only one visa left
and that is the Angola one, the embassy here assured us that at the border in
Matadi (DRC) we will get the transit visa, but we know from other travellers
that it is near impossible, as it is in Brazzzaville, Kinshasa or Dolisie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2YRYZMGk_JtQg7Z0KdNnB0UndsySdBE89a86MbYQh__rsp7dQQFSRugeC5IR8SeWo3XFuOOXSzK-z1DQJyrINjSxMdFuaujk_PKF1rJ32mPajKhUM5_4AZbCe1-P5GDebJIVUQoEXz4/s1600/P1060151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2YRYZMGk_JtQg7Z0KdNnB0UndsySdBE89a86MbYQh__rsp7dQQFSRugeC5IR8SeWo3XFuOOXSzK-z1DQJyrINjSxMdFuaujk_PKF1rJ32mPajKhUM5_4AZbCe1-P5GDebJIVUQoEXz4/s320/P1060151.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Soeur Bleu' in Libreville</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We will have to see and hope for the best, as we go on this last and
hardest bit of West Africa, the roads will sure get 'interesting' now in the
rainy season and if Angola lets us in, we might be in 'western' Namibia pretty
soon...<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-88100025635075967212012-05-10T07:15:00.000-07:002012-05-11T03:26:12.300-07:00Relaxing in Cameroun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUeUCwu2oZRkLCN9SboxiGkF0rpapDuBRY3xhPE-_soetWzMC33hWLHkIT9Jj9VHY5i31OpjhCE1rlGGupJtuqLLbAjMLNFZFWAieg7OndN4a0CoZY2JBGNXnrjqefLdxBFJYHAC4AWHM/s1600/P1060036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUeUCwu2oZRkLCN9SboxiGkF0rpapDuBRY3xhPE-_soetWzMC33hWLHkIT9Jj9VHY5i31OpjhCE1rlGGupJtuqLLbAjMLNFZFWAieg7OndN4a0CoZY2JBGNXnrjqefLdxBFJYHAC4AWHM/s320/P1060036.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">From Yaounde, we went on towards Kribi at the coast of Cameroun, a
touristic city popular with the expats. We managed to find some cheap places,
right on the beach, although the heavy cars got stuck a few times in the soft
sand. It was good practice for the winch on Regis' car and the sandplates got
used for the first time too.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUup1aXzMN0y3ruoEiZnSBIhaV89A30DIRYVpMLuu_d9yZoJhsRSd6xJZDkXKE6aIGaxi_OuodN-K-1Vb2ODxXu_XhTawcYv5aumTCEIMNmo3g4ZPmCLnAsuEwPQERq9JF_IMrD5pkT2o/s1600/P1060042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUup1aXzMN0y3ruoEiZnSBIhaV89A30DIRYVpMLuu_d9yZoJhsRSd6xJZDkXKE6aIGaxi_OuodN-K-1Vb2ODxXu_XhTawcYv5aumTCEIMNmo3g4ZPmCLnAsuEwPQERq9JF_IMrD5pkT2o/s320/P1060042.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6ZUUQL5GR7Pol85mlckwRRqUuXhIrC5GI8XR0267jpTb3-BnS5t_1bfjslGR2YAsGKA0geq3JuGQnAwgfYTap5DIL0EzJ4xQHXYG_wKzMwEs6sjOAZioo5sOL-2nb2xb3dF_BgJ-X-g/s1600/P1060064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6ZUUQL5GR7Pol85mlckwRRqUuXhIrC5GI8XR0267jpTb3-BnS5t_1bfjslGR2YAsGKA0geq3JuGQnAwgfYTap5DIL0EzJ4xQHXYG_wKzMwEs6sjOAZioo5sOL-2nb2xb3dF_BgJ-X-g/s320/P1060064.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Streetfood, eat for less than 1 euro</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjE3nmQm7AykqPnYEd7N75pTh-Df6TRpvtUt8nQ6tkAXTyDvxrF1q0cRKK-z4wWQOYW-_mCxF9y18z4ZwpjFhmHWQkCtPYkiTfYBzykogQ36YkZi11VqT5xA1__YVzWsR5Ogj9M7wo6Gw/s1600/P1060065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjE3nmQm7AykqPnYEd7N75pTh-Df6TRpvtUt8nQ6tkAXTyDvxrF1q0cRKK-z4wWQOYW-_mCxF9y18z4ZwpjFhmHWQkCtPYkiTfYBzykogQ36YkZi11VqT5xA1__YVzWsR5Ogj9M7wo6Gw/s200/P1060065.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camouflaged my bike</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Internet was a bit of a problem through Cameroun,
and here in Kribe again it was very slow and you need to watch out to get a
cyber café with a generator, or the mail you were typing for half an hour, is
gone when the power cuts out (happened several times to one of us). </span></span><br />
<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My
problem was that I wanted to get some movie clips online, but after trying 7
times over several days, I only ever got as far as 3% upload, so I gave up and hoped
for faster internet in Gabon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTTcGxagYaI25EnMq4vde-unUuCl5d9zUOHoeLRxpXqLEmL6zYsFyMLsK8bGI2W562KVdg1cwHiAVc7tEFLfp0hgT4udCp-aUWbSX5xocWCykXVp66hcWEw7mLVOwchPMGk1eB3cBl98/s1600/P1060098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTTcGxagYaI25EnMq4vde-unUuCl5d9zUOHoeLRxpXqLEmL6zYsFyMLsK8bGI2W562KVdg1cwHiAVc7tEFLfp0hgT4udCp-aUWbSX5xocWCykXVp66hcWEw7mLVOwchPMGk1eB3cBl98/s320/P1060098.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7G6u3PyFGYSOOMM5d_3WtJyiDV27y_xpqruNcvucQ0bGV-Et7-C0dYIGqzHILn-3QJs2O-EEvsmUgRhI_Od7l7NxdtKiEcvCTNC3vSbSZ2WmjSOGlpNmLfQT3gxNlCcbZUXDk7TwhF54/s1600/P1060106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7G6u3PyFGYSOOMM5d_3WtJyiDV27y_xpqruNcvucQ0bGV-Et7-C0dYIGqzHILn-3QJs2O-EEvsmUgRhI_Od7l7NxdtKiEcvCTNC3vSbSZ2WmjSOGlpNmLfQT3gxNlCcbZUXDk7TwhF54/s200/P1060106.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ebolowa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ebolowa was our last town in Cameroun and was reached along a reasonable
piste from Kribi. Most of the pistes here are safe to drive, unless it just
rained , and the red soil becomes a sticky and slippery mud road. But so far I
got lucky and only on the ring road near Bamenda it got tricky with the bike.
The road was so slippery, that on the hills the cars would come sliding down
with all 4 wheels locked, unable to steer. (see video cameroun part 2).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I found Ebolowa to be a charming town with good food and for 2 days I
enjoyed the luxury of hotel Sara, where for once, everything just worked as it
should, plus it was realy clean and modern and good value at 10 euro.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zUS1JaPBL0YeQafRL5fzcNVQ8NbAt2CTHAme88u_Rfkpn9hJc6HR_Cq8gk0TSOuX4U_cnrvLPbpq4CvM-xBzPSeb7WMkrM-ofS4pJbDbMLVXBNu3vyM3ZiwsQliDtjyvZ0v0MXFLbRQ/s1600/P1060111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3zUS1JaPBL0YeQafRL5fzcNVQ8NbAt2CTHAme88u_Rfkpn9hJc6HR_Cq8gk0TSOuX4U_cnrvLPbpq4CvM-xBzPSeb7WMkrM-ofS4pJbDbMLVXBNu3vyM3ZiwsQliDtjyvZ0v0MXFLbRQ/s320/P1060111.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road to the border of Gabon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none;">
<span lang="nl" style="mso-ansi-language: #0013; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So after 3 weeks in Cameroun, we were sad to leave, as it is such a nice
country. Most of the asfalt roads are good, there were bars and street food in
the smalest villages and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the landscapes
were amazing, but we needed to move on, always on the run for deadlines on our
visa's.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-69008474578456541402012-04-27T03:36:00.001-07:002012-05-11T03:42:35.066-07:00Cameroun in the rainy season<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/iS2rFZj1b0o?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh234wiUk0l5x6IX3GU3u1MqoG60siWbeNSJhy3-WpiBUyseueZuTNIPTCqtooTWNVGT-u7M9l7d7uHcgTURmgVB3z8ItHcTGtPUbrxEsmjh5d6DygsGVHenGw9eLVEogtNNOwY5asjg6g/s1600/P1050932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh234wiUk0l5x6IX3GU3u1MqoG60siWbeNSJhy3-WpiBUyseueZuTNIPTCqtooTWNVGT-u7M9l7d7uHcgTURmgVB3z8ItHcTGtPUbrxEsmjh5d6DygsGVHenGw9eLVEogtNNOwY5asjg6g/s320/P1050932.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping in the mountains near Bamenda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6g2D6YB8g-9TgjHryYj9Yp81N-BNoui06tOOAacZB550xwpoLA2-Y5LYpUjxxVIiy9CkjC2atR2ojh-_6hLdHxrONLpoHMWtxV_l0tBjBZjWJmZAboN-4gM0vXQetFi93gEwk5eJcc58/s1600/P1050959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6g2D6YB8g-9TgjHryYj9Yp81N-BNoui06tOOAacZB550xwpoLA2-Y5LYpUjxxVIiy9CkjC2atR2ojh-_6hLdHxrONLpoHMWtxV_l0tBjBZjWJmZAboN-4gM0vXQetFi93gEwk5eJcc58/s320/P1050959.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTfHl4KSr880XpE6JxWezdbLMP0GzT-apm9uXJ1LJWDy0iLbBCjyVpROYTHfLnw_774TWy9Saix8NAu65aUICp1C_VccJTF4LhctFwkX-JQ5sbquafDeojofcChGakDEJ9aQlnyrwJcE/s1600/P1050970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTfHl4KSr880XpE6JxWezdbLMP0GzT-apm9uXJ1LJWDy0iLbBCjyVpROYTHfLnw_774TWy9Saix8NAu65aUICp1C_VccJTF4LhctFwkX-JQ5sbquafDeojofcChGakDEJ9aQlnyrwJcE/s320/P1050970.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPfSJmoNwROCudZIBo4UdnAp6cTA-uinrvguiaE0AD9ZFBnGYBDtVvEWBHUhv0rBGHd9eRJLpQxkklOtuOcGq_2VU0NbFURvGKrOS_7wWt41N-zK2O7pAZZbuKJzseTDQuvDEpi2IVyU/s1600/P1050985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPfSJmoNwROCudZIBo4UdnAp6cTA-uinrvguiaE0AD9ZFBnGYBDtVvEWBHUhv0rBGHd9eRJLpQxkklOtuOcGq_2VU0NbFURvGKrOS_7wWt41N-zK2O7pAZZbuKJzseTDQuvDEpi2IVyU/s320/P1050985.JPG" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bushmeat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs-33qsJW3RR9ZpJssYHVsNc1WEBNgJ9c-ryOuXanfSkC1eINU34CTFrUqbUfWrVC5K5EPZWsC40RWhbNQs85Af3Defb64Aalxn4LgRLSE5kZr8TVl-mjtca33ViYN5GkwGmA_AogdXOE/s1600/P1050996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs-33qsJW3RR9ZpJssYHVsNc1WEBNgJ9c-ryOuXanfSkC1eINU34CTFrUqbUfWrVC5K5EPZWsC40RWhbNQs85Af3Defb64Aalxn4LgRLSE5kZr8TVl-mjtca33ViYN5GkwGmA_AogdXOE/s320/P1050996.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhgg10Fo7g2NDYpnSmD8sJQ0z9_zP3VEKLfQ-97RvxS4yJh7_QkAY6VHcH9m-ydzVy0bqzxmbF2M3lnAxTtdmIjlRTAzf1V15-4_OFU5NppcsVtWjQvdIv59g__QLM85qrQP0huF5meE/s1600/P1060004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBhgg10Fo7g2NDYpnSmD8sJQ0z9_zP3VEKLfQ-97RvxS4yJh7_QkAY6VHcH9m-ydzVy0bqzxmbF2M3lnAxTtdmIjlRTAzf1V15-4_OFU5NppcsVtWjQvdIv59g__QLM85qrQP0huF5meE/s320/P1060004.JPG" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More bushmeat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBSSbX69hsfWHgIXJZugqMjkPFPmuTY_sU-UkQANKh_h1FYPkspXx_9bivD0hm-mimvVW6NvYZMcLGFeV-4qHF3B0F7pDPSbCSCm58R1uwVsiRMwsIrZGpAwCRic1SPpHv4m8uiMFCGQ/s1600/P1060010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBSSbX69hsfWHgIXJZugqMjkPFPmuTY_sU-UkQANKh_h1FYPkspXx_9bivD0hm-mimvVW6NvYZMcLGFeV-4qHF3B0F7pDPSbCSCm58R1uwVsiRMwsIrZGpAwCRic1SPpHv4m8uiMFCGQ/s320/P1060010.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Attack by MutMut flies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-20478119400759933142012-04-15T07:15:00.003-07:002012-05-10T09:13:01.940-07:00The road to Cameroun<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqZUigMqIAKePokdzNcwwXNgY7mj472hyphenhyphenWLGmgEE_hpVdHUjANvgGU9ZWH7rMIwDrYoAPQeewjlALXrmwecUuz9c_Kg3lxvz8dkvS2QIJQ_YWbtnbTAaPbf2UJByTBViRgKUPn9KmFDg/s1600/P1050509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqZUigMqIAKePokdzNcwwXNgY7mj472hyphenhyphenWLGmgEE_hpVdHUjANvgGU9ZWH7rMIwDrYoAPQeewjlALXrmwecUuz9c_Kg3lxvz8dkvS2QIJQ_YWbtnbTAaPbf2UJByTBViRgKUPn9KmFDg/s320/P1050509.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We spend a week here for free!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span lang="nl">After spending 3 weeks in Abuja, and
being looked after by Stefan and Dagmar (thanks again for everything,
guys) the frame of Anita's car was welded realy proffesionally (here we have to
thank Udo Strack, we owe you big time)</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5lVZThBPBupJ74xtFJf9nQybsWbM7Ha4WyzOreSaIXhVCoOHSDP0n-P6CuHyIwHRgjyvHBELWqe0hfxQorzaUK1jGwvZudnHBPFHyY5shiaj6hWQFhFG4e630-u-xqzwCSpnQNlshRM/s1600/P1050625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5lVZThBPBupJ74xtFJf9nQybsWbM7Ha4WyzOreSaIXhVCoOHSDP0n-P6CuHyIwHRgjyvHBELWqe0hfxQorzaUK1jGwvZudnHBPFHyY5shiaj6hWQFhFG4e630-u-xqzwCSpnQNlshRM/s320/P1050625.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="nl">So now we could leave for the border of
Cameroun, before our extended visa's ran out. That evening we found a nice
place on the riverbank near Katsina, but the locals came and insisted we saw
the village chief. That ment we had to pack up everything again, and
reluctantly we followed them to the village on the main road. After getting the
permission it was almost dark so we setteled for an improvised camp under the
bridge where we were witness to a spectacular lightshow announcing the start of
the rainy season.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBsMqgIv4fJ2n9-EMUz_ZrNf_b3SDZQkjdPSfv290C6Zfyhsr2pzodbMEB8zt4nEEnsDkbwd5E1QkOPUyUHUWnoyRdEdCZvXBL673QD4GapxfE113Dm9zj25OS4QQrX6MbrMrPCq_B64Y/s1600/P1050692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBsMqgIv4fJ2n9-EMUz_ZrNf_b3SDZQkjdPSfv290C6Zfyhsr2pzodbMEB8zt4nEEnsDkbwd5E1QkOPUyUHUWnoyRdEdCZvXBL673QD4GapxfE113Dm9zj25OS4QQrX6MbrMrPCq_B64Y/s200/P1050692.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xx2dAg4Ln_ehZSW9VNNn_u76qO9nOvoICUTsK4hDs742TkM97rlySIwUXMSBIQlskEhYkGuA4_p5cc22p1ehuXFp317jUOVafZMNrmWFJhY2v_fe3kzyTYU6akC2w5ii7PB_RRn-1rs/s1600/P1050695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xx2dAg4Ln_ehZSW9VNNn_u76qO9nOvoICUTsK4hDs742TkM97rlySIwUXMSBIQlskEhYkGuA4_p5cc22p1ehuXFp317jUOVafZMNrmWFJhY2v_fe3kzyTYU6akC2w5ii7PB_RRn-1rs/s200/P1050695.JPG" width="200" /></a><span lang="nl"> </span><br />
<span lang="nl"> Next day we drove up to the border, first on perfect tarmac
to Takum, then on potholled roads to Bissaula. Nigeria had been crossed without
problems, except for a few rather
aggressive immigration officers holding us up for an hour or two, and the
people were friendly, athough not all of them appreciated having their picture
taken, or as they call it here 'make a snap'. Many times we heared them say
'did you snap me?' .</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJHi4bl13pDPvDPvvxbrpt2do7SuFZRCq1SBf6u0lABGorZcj3u0BVHJIRQHcFfwiRF3_lII683DqHzLcT6flCIQAFlWbSJkiVb8RQ7bbz37YennkPSi3Oy5-JFb_TeewzkVGnADRpMs/s1600/P1050715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJHi4bl13pDPvDPvvxbrpt2do7SuFZRCq1SBf6u0lABGorZcj3u0BVHJIRQHcFfwiRF3_lII683DqHzLcT6flCIQAFlWbSJkiVb8RQ7bbz37YennkPSi3Oy5-JFb_TeewzkVGnADRpMs/s320/P1050715.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqriVOSYUoT7J4H38FmswaLtMKzUb4BLvzMmhLOLBWFYLXOgMFBnLpgvePAWw_sM1YywsnhW6rxaLhcwUXX0sAhlJgWEVnWj-_Lwo4rQUr5zpCgXBvOr97uCbM-tu-l0dvV8saxAj0cvc/s1600/P1050723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqriVOSYUoT7J4H38FmswaLtMKzUb4BLvzMmhLOLBWFYLXOgMFBnLpgvePAWw_sM1YywsnhW6rxaLhcwUXX0sAhlJgWEVnWj-_Lwo4rQUr5zpCgXBvOr97uCbM-tu-l0dvV8saxAj0cvc/s320/P1050723.JPG" width="253" /></a><br />
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<span lang="nl">So that was Nigeria, but we sure expected to get to Cameroun a little
easier. Our logic on where to cross into Cameroun was a bit faulty, which had
us end up on the worst road between the 2 countries.</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="nl"> We didn't want to take the
infamous Ekok-Mamfe stretch (just type it in YouTube) although we were informed
that it is easily passable now and soon the Chinese will finish it. We also had
information on the moutain road via Gida, Beli, Mayo to Gemou which was good
but ment a 200 km detour. So when we arrived in Takum, and the locals assured
us the road was good (why do we every time believe that) to Bissaula and the
border.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kFtT_BxWIpz196uTDi_yDzIh1PlkH5925Z_m26VitKgxMOh_-Yf5FLQ3sfpv6v6f41AmWX7EX9urQ0eFC7hLtFeS3eSFBD_y68tLY-nIDvdo5KST8-fCK-unmwZjkZ38ciAnTGVrK-A/s1600/P1050729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kFtT_BxWIpz196uTDi_yDzIh1PlkH5925Z_m26VitKgxMOh_-Yf5FLQ3sfpv6v6f41AmWX7EX9urQ0eFC7hLtFeS3eSFBD_y68tLY-nIDvdo5KST8-fCK-unmwZjkZ38ciAnTGVrK-A/s320/P1050729.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkfmFXsvWRgytok5OIm-s6T8xyEKQpCHF9_KZnmVd2XqV2_TWd1lUkVVMjotfX1Gj5bs-oHVAkfif15CgOx5HWwXEmMYUoCHKsQ0zEmIhLz1z989P01_iZ7LDRcxoTC_-lShRWWu_rxc/s1600/P1050736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkfmFXsvWRgytok5OIm-s6T8xyEKQpCHF9_KZnmVd2XqV2_TWd1lUkVVMjotfX1Gj5bs-oHVAkfif15CgOx5HWwXEmMYUoCHKsQ0zEmIhLz1z989P01_iZ7LDRcxoTC_-lShRWWu_rxc/s200/P1050736.JPG" width="146" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsKZS4HNFvF8dVk4u7O-r3wJD7FN7DkcofgCIbl8t62-vrQKeRJv8D3c3H-lyPYT_k-xs6Qyj6POhpDZIUc6SMClLtNosLHeZaDfrwHXfgKu-2j2cthNnD4C_QwX4Fjc2Fkw0AvX7YlUU/s1600/P1050739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsKZS4HNFvF8dVk4u7O-r3wJD7FN7DkcofgCIbl8t62-vrQKeRJv8D3c3H-lyPYT_k-xs6Qyj6POhpDZIUc6SMClLtNosLHeZaDfrwHXfgKu-2j2cthNnD4C_QwX4Fjc2Fkw0AvX7YlUU/s200/P1050739.JPG" width="200" /></a><span lang="nl"> Actualy the locals were right, up to border the road was nice, with a
few water crossings and beautifull lush rain forest. It was the next day, just
after we were stamped out of Nigeria, and still in no mans land, things got
hairy. After a watercrossing and a steep rocky hill, that already had my
heartrate up and had me sweating profusely, I decided to put all my luggage in
the car. A little further came the real test, even without the heavy luggage I
only made it halfway up the nasty steep and very bumpy hill. When a big rock
slowed me down, I had to put the bike down, luckily just hurting my finger, but
by then I was exhausted, and close to heat shock. It took me some time to catch
my breath, all the time being harassed by the tiny flies (witch had the habbit
to crawl only into my ears, the others had no problem).</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_h0iRHtgg_L8FlAcKo5xrbWCIyVlc4c8OdW6JPPLG7V4KCpNZnrM_yOz13GLwgenx_JjsU1kmAlXwvgD4Ew1HSS1WWNl2C8RLmT1K-ezHlLgCseyawGmBhZm90BxTu0OQzNsMdIfDy8/s1600/P1050740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_h0iRHtgg_L8FlAcKo5xrbWCIyVlc4c8OdW6JPPLG7V4KCpNZnrM_yOz13GLwgenx_JjsU1kmAlXwvgD4Ew1HSS1WWNl2C8RLmT1K-ezHlLgCseyawGmBhZm90BxTu0OQzNsMdIfDy8/s320/P1050740.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hill that beat me. Trust me, it is steeper than it looks here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span lang="nl"> When I tried to attack
the same stretch, it went all wrong at the same place, the bike went to the
ground, sending me flying down the hill. There Regis was in the right place to
catch me in full flight, and we almost went down toghether, but we mannaged to
stay on our feet, lucky escape. We then decided to get the cars up first,
especially Regis' car, which had a winch, that could winch us up in the worst
case scenario. With fear and amazement I watched the cars crawl up the hill,
the diff lock on and the 4 wheels strugling to find grip on the loose rocks,
all of them only just missing the stranded bike while rocks shot from under the
wheels. When we had a break halfway up, eating some pineapple, three guys
arrived on a moped (a moped in Africa carries 3 or more, yes) and they
convinced us we had to get the bike up as soon as possible, because by now it
had started raining, and the piste would get slicker by the minute. With
combined effort, it took 6 guys and a towing rope, we pulled the bike up 30
meters. The last part up was just as difficult, but miraculously I stayed on
the bike and 20 minutes later all the cars and the bike were on top.</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/5FOC-GpZ9FY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa and his helpers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sliding down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<span lang="nl"> A quick
snap with our rescuers and then on to the descend, as daylight was fading and
the skies looked menacing. This also soon turned out to be tricky, just as
steep and more slippery as the other side, my two wheels where going in
different directions and as I picked up more
speed I came close to having a crash several times. The others seemed to enjoy
all of this, but I'm no thrillseeker, no adrenaline junky, I find it hard to
enjoy myself when I fear for my life, and this was certainly the scariest thing
I ever did! So after the cars slid down, some sliding into big rocks or
ditches, we made it to a flat piece of road just before dark and spent the
night right there, on the 'road'.</span></div>
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<span lang="nl">Next day rewarded us with an easy connection onto a good piste where we
picked up some workers and gave them a lift to the border town police office of Ako.
Some of us then got into Cameroun
without a valid visa, because the officer didn't bother to look at any of the
visas and as the customs where not in the village, we also didn't bother with a
'laisser passez'. If it wasn't for the gnarly road, I would even recommend this
border, realy easy. </span></div>
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<span lang="nl">Cameroun was all I hoped for, nicer and more developped than Nigeria,
very friendly people and stunning landscapes. It was no coincidence then that
our bushcamp that evening was the most special so far, under some eucaliptus
trees, right next to a spiky hill, overlooking the whole valley.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgldEox-tu7bePOMl9Vry4qJcFveR0TCoOUTAxMgnWHXp8MGxQ4vOpVqJD6IpMb1L-AwIhyphenhyphenR6LEaZWrX_HQ1O5fr7YlKyowwxToiQsqYn4TjGDXo31IzaCPpnSze-Zl13435dYwnW1tClg/s1600/P1050856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgldEox-tu7bePOMl9Vry4qJcFveR0TCoOUTAxMgnWHXp8MGxQ4vOpVqJD6IpMb1L-AwIhyphenhyphenR6LEaZWrX_HQ1O5fr7YlKyowwxToiQsqYn4TjGDXo31IzaCPpnSze-Zl13435dYwnW1tClg/s320/P1050856.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 'Fon' of Kungi</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An 'actor' from the movie</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span lang="nl"> The villagers
soon informed the chief that some strange people had landed, and a couple of
hours later the 'Fon of Kungi' himself was standing on the hill. We promised to
come to the palace the next day, where a whole ceremony with some fermented
drink and cola nuts followed and it was made clear that a donation was
expected. Kungi was such a nice place, and soon it was decided we would stay
for a few days. Regis especially liked it as he got to play a role in a movie
some guys where filming and even we were filmed having breakfast at our camp
place. The next morning we saw the 'gorilla' the people said lived on the
mountain. It turned out to be a baboon, but it made the whole experience even
more special nevertheless. This place was just magic.</span></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-45212604008534504362012-03-21T11:45:00.002-07:002012-04-03T07:07:43.096-07:00Video reportClips of video from Ghana, Togo, Benin and Nigeria.<br />
<br />
<iframe width="480" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cA4iTVN3cWU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
Clip of a day out on the KTM 450 of Stefan
<iframe width="480" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8pKLKLMQAWU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-8110207646992213322012-03-19T03:31:00.002-07:002012-03-19T03:37:56.088-07:00Lovely NigeriaAs it turned out, the border at Chikanda, from Niki was indeed very easy, with Thomas and Anita getting a free 'laissez passez' and the officials on the Togo side not seeing that I passed through Togo without one or any Togo visa whatsoever.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlopR8y-thPw5GLjpEQrs71jRs-FrnxDo9CE3C9fglP_1n9empJditWmjcYyX1cK7l-WP_c3x99rQ2veEjwMcrQukeBI7LHNWz4NFSIAtmLy1cj9Lfe1y0gY2ZjeOOXBarxA0kY906YqM/s1600/P1050443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlopR8y-thPw5GLjpEQrs71jRs-FrnxDo9CE3C9fglP_1n9empJditWmjcYyX1cK7l-WP_c3x99rQ2veEjwMcrQukeBI7LHNWz4NFSIAtmLy1cj9Lfe1y0gY2ZjeOOXBarxA0kY906YqM/s400/P1050443.JPG" width="400" /></a></div> We used our visa cards in the first bank and were surprised the Naira's just flowed out like that, in Parakou,Togo the 4 ATM's refused my visa and mastercard just the day before. The road however turned into a difficult piste just 20 km into Nigeria continuing for about a hundred km, which was very tiring. Apart from a few aggressive immigration officials, we found the Nigerians to be very welcoming and friendly.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anita, Thomas and Regis</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRJb_A_Mi4Vl3xtP0AG6nikbUqIiB-2jLvNJQ7CYFwBjCEcf6Fi6GwiXAGP0oh9hsf14_w44mVGe_BAMFq_W6JuSXeq4-pXPhmdcy-443tq_fbpwYOI5Gtvth1eHDR_-8L5VnUKbQKeA/s1600/P1050470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRJb_A_Mi4Vl3xtP0AG6nikbUqIiB-2jLvNJQ7CYFwBjCEcf6Fi6GwiXAGP0oh9hsf14_w44mVGe_BAMFq_W6JuSXeq4-pXPhmdcy-443tq_fbpwYOI5Gtvth1eHDR_-8L5VnUKbQKeA/s320/P1050470.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1R4ld2c6-hBN-ymhM5VEejhuI8KVPcmAajcy-Imhtz6h6Xapk7WulF5bHewNPHkr1BnwnmvGkYnTxrUhYWU2-lZ-t2o9a4uBcjsXChyphenhyphenPIm8GVEuLO0mSfoxQhgP0vYIBw3nQ1rniGNGA/s1600/P1050483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1R4ld2c6-hBN-ymhM5VEejhuI8KVPcmAajcy-Imhtz6h6Xapk7WulF5bHewNPHkr1BnwnmvGkYnTxrUhYWU2-lZ-t2o9a4uBcjsXChyphenhyphenPIm8GVEuLO0mSfoxQhgP0vYIBw3nQ1rniGNGA/s320/P1050483.JPG" width="320" /></a> It also seems a lot cheaper here, eating streetfood at half a euro or less, drinking a cold coke for the same price and even having a litre of fuel for that same 0,5 euro. Diesel unfortenately is twice the price and pretty hard to find too, our convoy needs to drive into about 10 fuel stations to find one with diesel. Because of the badly potholed roads it took us 4 days to reach Abuja, bushcamping every night, preparing our own food while fending off the irritating small flies, that had the habbit to go inside your ears. Once we got to the busy cities of Mokwa and Bida we also experienced the famous Nigerian driving style, on one car I read 'My security is God', another read 'Take care, God is on my side', which sums it up nicely.<br />
In Bida, we noticed Anita's car was a bit low on the rear and found a big piece of the frame was broken on both sides. In only 2 hours they managed to weld it (very badly), and we were on our way again before noon.<br />
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As it was saturday we decided to bushcamp once more and drive into Abuja early sunday, to find the person which Thomas was in contact with, and who had a 'nice big place where we all could camp'.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sterilizing water as Regis makes dinner</td></tr>
</tbody></table> The contact proved to be Stefan, a german, who works for a big company here and lives in Abuja with his wife Dagmar and 2 kids. As overlanders and bikers themself, they knew exactly what we needed after 4 days in the bush. I'll just list what these hospitable people offered to us , campsite with swimming pool, internet, free beer, complete kitchen to use, workshop for the car from the company and they will wash our clothes and help with the visa. Never in my life I was welcomed so overwhelming, from our bushcamp in the morning, it was like returning to all the comforts of europe. So, now we will use our time in Abuja to get the visa and plan our route to Cameroun. While we are at it, we may also try for the elusive Angola visa, but our chances are slim. And oh, the welding on Anita's car is allready starting to crack and another piece of the exhaust broke off, seems like her car is in permanent repair, but then again, it is as old as she is.Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-11569836990666814822012-03-19T02:50:00.005-07:002012-03-20T11:17:59.621-07:00Togo & BeninOur last days in Ghana were spent with my motorbike friends in Roots Yard near the border of Togo in the mountainous region of Ho. The day before, Heidi en Jens (Enfield diesels), Tony & Charlie, Max & Marjane and Hubert (Ural sidecar) put their bikes in Tema into a container to be shipped to Walvisbaai, Namibia.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTIvf9ue5S1FZDkU7ydzpI4Q8EYhHg8ymS1EuF1SAqmkKOIADErVLnxHrK9WQZzzLXxvl2SW4VckDQmV0KTYxRSduT4_M0RMfgkv_8P6Q55Z_poL34Cl4rhGSJhA9rnVfkXVWF2Eaggo/s1600/P1050293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTIvf9ue5S1FZDkU7ydzpI4Q8EYhHg8ymS1EuF1SAqmkKOIADErVLnxHrK9WQZzzLXxvl2SW4VckDQmV0KTYxRSduT4_M0RMfgkv_8P6Q55Z_poL34Cl4rhGSJhA9rnVfkXVWF2Eaggo/s320/P1050293.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> As a result they where now bikeless and took a tro-tro (minibus) to Roots Yard to meet up with us and Matt, who we met in Bamako and who was celebrating his 30th birhtday. Before me and Anita were leaving for Togo, we decided to visit a waterfall. As we decended without guide ( I took a sneaky picture of the guide's map) and only 15 minutes into the walk, the path narrowed and wasn't clear annymore leading into the cascades. I told Anita to wait, while I took a look at where to go, but although standing on dry rock with my climbing boots, I slipped and fell. I recovered, only to slip again, and again, and again, now on the slippery green wet rocks sliding deeper into the cascades on my belly to arrive in the waterpool at the end with a splash. Luckily I didn't hurt myself too bad and with wet sigarettes and money (camera is waterproof, yes!) we arrived at the waterfall a bit later with the rest of the group.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slid some 20 meters before ending here!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIMwKjSrCemgvmDdJQxqb5RZ4q2FDJRc9Qb_M2JkcSnUaQjnOR7IMp0eQOa8Iu2QmI3QHGNZLt51FKK3gAWwCRzSTcqahT3T1433pSiZXQ3ScvXCJFAEddtHpbabj111VFi0xCGXYvFE/s1600/P1050319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJIMwKjSrCemgvmDdJQxqb5RZ4q2FDJRc9Qb_M2JkcSnUaQjnOR7IMp0eQOa8Iu2QmI3QHGNZLt51FKK3gAWwCRzSTcqahT3T1433pSiZXQ3ScvXCJFAEddtHpbabj111VFi0xCGXYvFE/s200/P1050319.JPG" width="160" /></a>This wasn't the only mishapp of the day, Anita spotted a cashew tree full of fruits, with the cashew nut in a protective shell under the fruit.<br />
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The fruit was edible, she knew, but when she tried to get to the cashew nut by biting the shell, a strong acid burnt her tongue and lip. As we went back to Roots Yard, a real tropical thunderstorm forced the group of 7 into Anita's car for the ride back.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matt, Tony, Parisa & Bahar</td></tr>
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Next morning we left our friends to take on the rest of Africa. First was Togo, we crossed the easy border and after taking refuge for a 2 hour downpoor which left the car and my bike luggage wet, we arrived in the dark at the Benedict monestary of Dzobegan.<br />
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Just as we were in the shower, the bell for diner went, exactly 7u25, everybody was expected in the dining hall. While we were still eating, a servant took the rest of the food that was still on the table and served desert. It was clear that we needed to eat faster and as soon the desert was finished we were summoned to help with the dishes. In the morning we attended the morning mass, after which I left Anita to take on the rough mountain track towards Atakpamé, all in all a fantastic experience.<br />
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By now, I noticed the rear tourance tire, that was still on since I left home more than 3 months and 12000 km ago, had a strange bulge on the side, so it was quickly changed for one of the spare tires that I now keep on the roof of the landy (handy, having a girl with a landy). Togo is just a small country and so the border of Benin was soon reached using a bumpy track that at one place was blocked by a broken down truck, I squeased through while Anita took a detour through the village.<br />
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In Benin we made our way to Savé that night to meet up with Thomas, a 21 year old Swiss mechanic, traveling in a 4x4 mercedes van and on his way to Tanzania to work as a 'bush mechanic'. We met with Thomas in Bamako where he already had to work on Anita's clutch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_6dx4N10-fXpTP-vf9uUkl7mGedtzI4LDLUpVohShcMOA3zR3lt0QPbIO2Ia2ZgDuaJDI-3JJ6HCKr1G9uhKLlrv8ZRG60AZnKPQdv4SEwDkRhg-4c98iiAEY7RfMMv-bWPXbRwpvjM/s1600/P1050390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_6dx4N10-fXpTP-vf9uUkl7mGedtzI4LDLUpVohShcMOA3zR3lt0QPbIO2Ia2ZgDuaJDI-3JJ6HCKr1G9uhKLlrv8ZRG60AZnKPQdv4SEwDkRhg-4c98iiAEY7RfMMv-bWPXbRwpvjM/s320/P1050390.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drawing a crowd as we come into Benin</td></tr>
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As we arrived at Savé, and got Thomas on the phone, we saw another overlander in a Toyota landcruiser. Regis, a French national, stepped out and asked: 'are you also looking for Thomas?'<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9T9t1MXljfeOwMUwyi8jBfar2mWdQC1pB2KTp6uNEMB8kxl31_peUuFVSo3Qpo3sKErlCPZLCZK3P85qad76MyeRxnVsLj7FMPXTVjiiIAniX5hLDdDoMvYeiCK7S-aM2-GE0B9Z9QM/s1600/P1050399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9T9t1MXljfeOwMUwyi8jBfar2mWdQC1pB2KTp6uNEMB8kxl31_peUuFVSo3Qpo3sKErlCPZLCZK3P85qad76MyeRxnVsLj7FMPXTVjiiIAniX5hLDdDoMvYeiCK7S-aM2-GE0B9Z9QM/s320/P1050399.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The organised chaos in Anita's car</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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So now we were 4, and after making bushcamp, we decided to spend one more day in Togo to get to the more safe entry North to Nigeria at Niki .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ndD5eH_vjFmG7X203R0kA_fjZXYSKyUxRRU5yobbsFQyQ12a5wwFHm6uh8AFam0k7tBTdo7ZXL5zZXO4U64HikW8hkIVQY08dB7RcjyVDLDhEubq8oyK9_Dkr7YjktTyDdP9cRDDNtM/s1600/P1050421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ndD5eH_vjFmG7X203R0kA_fjZXYSKyUxRRU5yobbsFQyQ12a5wwFHm6uh8AFam0k7tBTdo7ZXL5zZXO4U64HikW8hkIVQY08dB7RcjyVDLDhEubq8oyK9_Dkr7YjktTyDdP9cRDDNtM/s200/P1050421.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolyrpvivj_VLRYzgtPEJDOtFDweCAWgnESzY5OrPXMDFaiTzQuiZDJNzdXcJ-QbEIhGmDFJSfGE9844838hLscWUam9MULgz1umUqweQOzeQrcp49JYoaQdshkvuDnXPvSxRoiNiKjdg/s1600/P1050417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolyrpvivj_VLRYzgtPEJDOtFDweCAWgnESzY5OrPXMDFaiTzQuiZDJNzdXcJ-QbEIhGmDFJSfGE9844838hLscWUam9MULgz1umUqweQOzeQrcp49JYoaQdshkvuDnXPvSxRoiNiKjdg/s200/P1050417.JPG" width="200" /></a>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-81951955180622228062012-03-07T00:33:00.002-08:002012-03-07T00:42:30.680-08:00Driving SouthWe quickly made our way south towards the Burkina/Ghana border to leave us enough time to deal with the border customs because we knew that without a carnet, Anita would have a hard time getting the car into Ghana. And that was how it turned out, I got through in 10 minutes with my carnet and getting the car sorted took us the remainding 6 hours of the day, driving to Bolga and back to the border, with some customs officials in the car. She ended up paying 50 euro for an insurance on a bond, basicly the same system as the carnet, but locally. Also they took the official car papers, and sent them to the border where we were exiting the country. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1AbAGgufFy6nzhPMkKRG85vEE2EbYD4RXqGKgqq9pT5hCa4NbCq-HXqUfn5gM9_tjMdCCT9ufs0H7g9xHy7Zmzn1F1bZz-1xGT1l657CH3tTU3unEc7_QB88pSao1FSwa6ZD97NBBvxA/s1600/P1050099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1AbAGgufFy6nzhPMkKRG85vEE2EbYD4RXqGKgqq9pT5hCa4NbCq-HXqUfn5gM9_tjMdCCT9ufs0H7g9xHy7Zmzn1F1bZz-1xGT1l657CH3tTU3unEc7_QB88pSao1FSwa6ZD97NBBvxA/s320/P1050099.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anita forcing a truck off the road</td></tr>
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Then it was on to the main goal in Ghana, the beautifull coast, and although Anita was a bit sick, and me having problems with the extreme heat of North Ghana, we made it down in 2 days. On one realy bad road I got stopped by one of the many police checkpoints, and upon being asked 'how the road was', I replied that it was realy bad. The officer threatened to arrest me if I didn't take it back, he said it was a perfectly fine road and remembering my previous arrests, I quickly and fully aggreed.<br />
When arriving at 'the green turtle' it turned out exactly as all the guide books described it, a picture perfect beach heaven.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimR-M4w1RigVWinD0gMcnONGcEiO2a2shEaDsQ2McEtGm3x0-_hQtZWlTn7E6ACGNt6mcT1B4ai8wARh5VTJ_m7Y6zI7dYcvIyrysiyo2NjpqJ42aDUENpp0P_xmHpZ53x429QQTZsJv0/s1600/P1050118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimR-M4w1RigVWinD0gMcnONGcEiO2a2shEaDsQ2McEtGm3x0-_hQtZWlTn7E6ACGNt6mcT1B4ai8wARh5VTJ_m7Y6zI7dYcvIyrysiyo2NjpqJ42aDUENpp0P_xmHpZ53x429QQTZsJv0/s400/P1050118.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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The temperature was a bit lower here and stayed the same day or night, which made for a realy relaxing 4 day camping experience, diving into the huge waves, having long morning walks or just having a cold beer while reading a book, it was a holiday into a holiday.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Tojvd5nGTf088fK9ApGRDCB8BzGjxSTItKCCLrDO3nyUbOw5jkQFiV8mRiyAoeka3ITWapNW_Dwvlxma8C7dD_loYlZR36UV2t8ra17qC1IFddpYK6dgO_HYxPAbghte1uiFVYhJwM4/s1600/P1050196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Tojvd5nGTf088fK9ApGRDCB8BzGjxSTItKCCLrDO3nyUbOw5jkQFiV8mRiyAoeka3ITWapNW_Dwvlxma8C7dD_loYlZR36UV2t8ra17qC1IFddpYK6dgO_HYxPAbghte1uiFVYhJwM4/s200/P1050196.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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We also met up with Charlie and Tony again, who just happened to be here too, and had a discussion about the shipping of the bikes from Accra to Namibia.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxXNiPOrsFnbe5kdadnBslS1zcAGkGZvNAKXUdLarFg0ivAtHqMXPFVkNKVxsRPOCeXcrTQzRnacACp4rH77Wfrljw7_unT-5zbOMaN5RfScjHkc76D-WGGqC-0wRapxsYBeStkP-Y8M/s1600/P1050178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxXNiPOrsFnbe5kdadnBslS1zcAGkGZvNAKXUdLarFg0ivAtHqMXPFVkNKVxsRPOCeXcrTQzRnacACp4rH77Wfrljw7_unT-5zbOMaN5RfScjHkc76D-WGGqC-0wRapxsYBeStkP-Y8M/s320/P1050178.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>As I'm typing this from Cape Coast, we are by now pretty sure we are going to drive, rather than ship, but as the rainy season is already starting and some visa's are next to unobtainable, it will be a tough challenge, but then again, nothing is easy here in Africa. Nobody I know even attempted it in the rainy season, but I'm sure it has been done before. Are we being naive, ignorent or stupid, time will probably tell.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIujUvQ8D-abXn-INVQ6K8J_58nEdh8kkOWEkdARrqnXmQJUD_tp_-PlZ0Wwe9jBO3cYCRzEWT2C-cltU2loDhBLCG6ntZDJyStMr8uxBFiwEsqale6MNm2QPmMeglBn9QuQDlHp3gJA/s1600/5+Ghana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIujUvQ8D-abXn-INVQ6K8J_58nEdh8kkOWEkdARrqnXmQJUD_tp_-PlZ0Wwe9jBO3cYCRzEWT2C-cltU2loDhBLCG6ntZDJyStMr8uxBFiwEsqale6MNm2QPmMeglBn9QuQDlHp3gJA/s320/5+Ghana.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-24390762912188566962012-02-25T05:55:00.002-08:002012-04-03T06:47:36.649-07:00Lost and found<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Here I am, sitting in a police office again"</i></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">That's what I thought when I </span></span>went into the big police building here in Ouaga. The story started like this, last sunday Anita and me split up in Segou, Mali. She was driving with 2 other overlanders towards the Dogon country, as it is so beautifull she couldn't miss it, and I would go to Ouaga, Burkina, to get my visa for Ghana and do some work on the bike. Nothing set in concrete, just '<i>we'll meet up in a few days to a week, I'll call you'.</i><br />
But already the first night in Bobo, Burkina, I couldn't call her with my Malian number and also with a new Burkinabe number I had no luck in contacting her. The following days I sent her some e-mails, but I was well aware that in Dogon country, there is no internet and in big parts, no telephone reception. So, by thursday, I started to get a little nervous. I had no contact details for Thomas or Matias, with who she was traveling, and I knew the piste from Dogon to the border is hardgoing, because I did that track last year.<i> </i><br />
So by friday afternoon all sorts of scenarios were playing in my head, especialy since I knew this was the last day her visa for Burkina was valid, she had to cross today. I felt I needed to do something, so there I was, in the central police office, asking them to phone the border post to hear if they saw her pass. After a few phonecalls, they informed me that she had not crossed the border, and they would keep me informed if she turned up.<br />
Back in the auberge, Guillaume, the owner and also a biker, called his contacts in the Dogon, and found out she had been spotted on wednesday, together with the two others, this was a huge relieve, but the big surprise came one hour later, when my phone rang and it was Anita, saying she was at the border and she coudn't realy talk now, but she would be in Ouaga the next day. What had happened: turns out that with the troubles in Mali and with huge numbers of refugees coming into Burkina, there was actually a great amount of police and armed forces around the border, and they went out to search and found Anita camping in the bush near the border. How they found her so quick is a mistery, but I guess it's their job, right. It certainly must have been quiete scary, she on her own, somewhere in the bush, sudenly surrounded by police with machine guns, they took her to a safer place and let her call me on their phone. . Next day she arrived here by noon, telling me another chilling detail: on the way down, she hit a bump in the road too hard, and spun her car 360 degrees around. Too much information for me at that time and I was just very glad she was here safe and with me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdkdsBHZROG5sGxEhFfGbXLaKZFwVITja8nvx9xMALJIZz4OOV_8Cw_HfGSzTaAj4a1Iz3ao59xtlzncR8kc5pB3h_ftq_3PkNERlLGEwSz5x8uTYITzVemWhlN4Ze-se4GTljf45QlgE/s1600/P1050024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdkdsBHZROG5sGxEhFfGbXLaKZFwVITja8nvx9xMALJIZz4OOV_8Cw_HfGSzTaAj4a1Iz3ao59xtlzncR8kc5pB3h_ftq_3PkNERlLGEwSz5x8uTYITzVemWhlN4Ze-se4GTljf45QlgE/s320/P1050024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Soon we will travel to Ghana and I will keep her in my sight, something tells me that will be the best for both of us.Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672317541802677769.post-50613003145697030042012-02-20T11:09:00.001-08:002012-02-22T11:12:45.831-08:00Burkina FasoI got up early to drive to Ouagadougou trying to beat the midday heat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-qhb9qCi_qnn_HRXub2iWD0LVLlItZT1znNHebrLub7C3UW3pzMBTAGQdeON4Grxj3BY7DsNpfls0xhW8N-tMvEqLyLcFLey0-4HZKLZT9HhwGNpfRlM5Mw1qdxP1g2Kr_nJhxTYyOw/s1600/P1040997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-qhb9qCi_qnn_HRXub2iWD0LVLlItZT1znNHebrLub7C3UW3pzMBTAGQdeON4Grxj3BY7DsNpfls0xhW8N-tMvEqLyLcFLey0-4HZKLZT9HhwGNpfRlM5Mw1qdxP1g2Kr_nJhxTYyOw/s200/P1040997.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">8 o'clock in the morning</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3ieE1oAMbOwWFrkfJEMtpsefSe7Uyi_bv05zayYefYLVlliBquN0_uDqfJo9Lj0eNVSMNjT6raEZgXgypMegb3iITfyv4AuoVNRc2hVWAOjECoAGL91Qv1hvTJOp_rQEs_fagWDQItE/s1600/P1050009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3ieE1oAMbOwWFrkfJEMtpsefSe7Uyi_bv05zayYefYLVlliBquN0_uDqfJo9Lj0eNVSMNjT6raEZgXgypMegb3iITfyv4AuoVNRc2hVWAOjECoAGL91Qv1hvTJOp_rQEs_fagWDQItE/s200/P1050009.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">11 o'clock in the morning</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>Even though it rained for a while, by noon it was brutally hot again, but luckily the toll road from Bobo to Ouaga is in good shape so I arrived safe and well in the capital, where I will spend the rest of the week taking care of the bike and trying to arrange my visa for Ghana and Cameroun.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtco4ttL_k2iOVc0FGoJBMO3_DtFGj-CsqIhsKfiC01HAvD2M3BPfl0fQbOxuONnDZTwr2DGJCKnFMKUDLkSTGo1i8J0rDrtr5UxTdx07Vy4Jx3QPcqmCEPUcakGPoOiJoq3jiGmL9tc/s1600/P1050013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtco4ttL_k2iOVc0FGoJBMO3_DtFGj-CsqIhsKfiC01HAvD2M3BPfl0fQbOxuONnDZTwr2DGJCKnFMKUDLkSTGo1i8J0rDrtr5UxTdx07Vy4Jx3QPcqmCEPUcakGPoOiJoq3jiGmL9tc/s320/P1050013.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fitting the new chain</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/_cr4M8mNDRc/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_cr4M8mNDRc?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_cr4M8mNDRc?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></div>Tonyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15091825492634072032noreply@blogger.com2