At the border with Egypt§ Soon fast food chains, ice and cold beer. The last 8 weeks have been incredible. Africa in full character. The Hell/mud road in Kenya. We each fall or get stuck many times a day. (must see our short video to appreciate) (will try to link the video) One rider falls, other riders stop and help fallen rider up. One rider gets stuck, same process. Sloshing in mud we push. Mud becomes our friend. Ian paints his face with mud - mud is good - mud is power. Curses become laughter, frowns to smiles. Wheels clog up with mud and we camp in the mud. Dinner of peanut butter and crackers is good - pasta is glorious. Wet shoes & socks refreshing. Africans living in this mud are interesting. Amazing clean and decorated and noble Africans show us pride. When enter Ethiopia the land of beggers, screaming kids you-you-you. UN trucks and no pride. Then that excruiting delay in Addis Ababa. We each make friends to go our own way. Never a cross word, many a frown - always hope and a mutual goal. A "silver lining" that later saves us much greif. Glorious mountain roads leaving Addis in Ethiopia. Wrecked trucks and busses. Our scooters and slow pace show us "the way". Entering Sudan§ First impression is high hassle factor officials, rotting animals dot the roadside in a parched landscape. All this turns into smiles and "Welcome to Sudan"; Heat - 45+ degrees C / 100+ F. The desert. We guzzel water - leave a trail of empty plastic. All the books - movies - songs that romantize the desert. They are all right. Spend some real time in the desert (or mud). We gain confidence - we grow further apart - we become more the individual - we enjoy each others company more - never a harsh word - none of that childish name-calling some call "male bonding". No trying to convince "bullying" - we ride on. If someone rids slow or fast we ride on. If a rider stops to film or take a picture or pour water over the head - the team simply stops and waits or participates. No need for words - the mud and desert is our silent mentor. Mohomad the ex Chicago taxie driver in Khartoun, with the SubDay shop welcoms us to his home for a late dinner. The Sudan "Fixer" proves to be a real gentelman and adds the final polish allowing us to truely enjoy Sudan hassel free. We cower at the thought had this fateful meeting not begun back on the Hell road in Kenya!! Blazing hot days riding in the desert. 270 Km/ 170 miles to cross one stretch, another almost as long. We learn from the desert - no peyote needed of American Indian wisdom (silence takes strength). Roadblocks at every town/city - guns - smiles - handshake - and "Welcome to Sudan" at every roadblock. This is a nation with two civil wars - one tribal, one religious. Military presense shows they have this area under control. SA or USA passport makes no difference - all "Welcome to Sudan". Back in the baking desert. We stop for a water break in middle of nowhere. A minibus taxie stops - a man in a robe gets out and bri_skly strolls into the desert! No path, no sign of life - yet obviously he has a home out there. At another nowhere stop, we camp near a powerline acess road, 200 meters off the main road and behind a huge pile of dirt. Around midnight a robed man walks past, greets us loudly to announce his presence and good will. He Walks on by. Next morning I walk in "his" direction - road ends, only endless desert, I can see at least one Km, no sign of life. How I would like to walk alongside this man for a week - probagly would not last a day. The desert teaches strength. Life here in the desert goes on and probably not nearly as harsh as perceived. I will "wonder" but never "know". Every day in the desert presents more life. We see a bearded robed man emerge from "nowhere" desert, nothing as far as the eye can see - robe man has a huge bag of charcoal over his shoulder - he crosses the road and walks off toward more "nowhere". Obviously, in the desert there is a lot of "somewhere". My regret is not riding up to Charcoal Man and handing him my water bottle. (I have extra) He ignores us as we pretend to ignore him - both us an equally off sight. Our attitudes are jaded - possibly downright slanted in the wrong direction. So many UN trucks creating so many beggers. We are now in the desert - there are no beggers. We must re-fresh our soul and learn to share again. Those random acts-of-kindness that we so enjoyed - we must return times over. We are "so rich" in comparrison. The desert teaches more. At a rest and water stop we encounter a kitten - is this luck / fate or a desert lesson. Just who was the lucky party here. full post with pictures earlier. The Scooter Addicts Scoot 1500 Kms of hop open desert. We experience and learn. Those in fast air conditioned cars learn nothing. Back in "civilization" - Egypt. From here on is easy-street. Nice roads and food - we will miss the Mud & Desert. The Scooter Addicta are more a team than ever - we are more individuals than ever. We hope our desert-lessons are not forgotten. Traveling the hard and exotic is lifes best teacher.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Jul 2013 14:44:13 +0000
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