Merry Xmas and Happy New Year

The title says it all. Have a great time this Christmas and party hard to see in the New Year.

I'm in Nairobi for Christmas. Should be fun with everyone on the truck. They are great.

Congrats to all the baby makers recently.

See you in the New Year!

Tropical Diseases

Today's lesson will be on diseases and health problems your average punter might encounter during a four month trip through Africa. And yes, we have already.

Disease Number 1: Tetsi Fly

Name: Tetsi Fly

Description: Large fly. Uncannily persistent and hard to kill. Looks ugly. Feels disgusting on skin. Has the ability to chase speeding overland trucks.

The Tetsi fly is responsible for a disease called "the sleeping sickness" whereby after a bite from said fly the person will suffer flu, nausea, fever and then eventually slip into a coma.

Our Unlucky Punter: Dave. He was bitten. It swelled up. Over a five day period the pain became increasingly worse until he had to go to a doctor. A course of anti-tetsi pills saw him right. Luckily he didn't slip into a coma - although he has been seen unconcious, half in and half out of his tent. We suspect alcohol over Tetsi though.

Disease Number 2: Scabies

Name: Scabies - but this was just our nickname. Disease was unknown.

Desciption: It forms a rash on the underside of the arms, becomes exceedingly itchy and then causes the sufferer to lose all friends on the truck as people fear catching it.

Our Unlucky Punters: Irish Steve, our drive George, kiwi Stan and Duncan. Over a period of two weeks it spread through these four on the truck. Leprosy might have been received better. Many people suggested burning all of their belongings. A few suggested burning the afflicted. Luckily the contagen died out after a while. Three doctors later we still don't know the cause.

Disease Number 3: Jigger Fleas

Name: Jigger Fleas. Also known as "That bug living in your foot"

Description: A small flea that jumps onto your foot while you are walking, crawls under your toenail and then burrows into your toe. It leaves a small breathing hole in your skin which is seen as a characteristic black dot. It lives and grows inside your foot and eventually bursts out leaving some eggs for a repeat performance.

Our Unlucky Punters: Mary, Me! The problem with this one is that everyone wants to watch the flea get removed which involves getting a sterile needle and slowly digging it out and any eggs that are lying around. Cameras and vides recorders appear out of nowhere while advice such as "Dig deeper! More Iodine!" is dispensed freely.

For my part, I was not willing to share my body as a bug penthouse. The little b@stard was squeezed to death through his own breathing hole. Yuck!

Wedding Kenyan Style

This was the wedding car for a passing wedding party in Kenya. I like their style!

Jinja

From Kenya down Africa seems like a giant tourist fun park. At Jinja national park in Uganda we got our first taste of it.

Overland trucks huddle together in campsites with their tents scattered around them, like spores thrown out to fertilize and produce more brightly coloured, tarpoulin covered, self-catered human cargo carriers.

For some of the single boys and girls on the truck I believe Jinja also supplied some cross-pollination opportunities. I watched idly, sucking down a cold beer, wondering what my darling Nicci was up to in London. But, back to the fun park...

Day 1: Whitewater Rafting - Jinja has a wonderful set of grade five rapids which the Irish boys and I decided to take with the help of our raft guide, Henry. First rapid - total carnage. All of our initial training and practice went straight out of the window. In fact, everything went out of the window; paddles, limbs, guides, the Irish and a startled kiwi, taken flight for the first time thanks to the help of a giant tumblinggrade five wave. The raft flipped, spilling all and sundry into the soup.

From this point onwards it was like being in anenormous watery pinball machine. Bodies were slammed onto rocks, leaving a ringing pain and racking up "Ding! Ding! 50 points!" I got violiently squashed between an unidentified Irishman and a particularly hard rock. Had I had the time, I might have imagined the multi-ball bonus being awarded to us but instead the abject terror of not knowing where the surface is, not being able to breathe, and having someone's knee in my eyeball led me to imagine my imminent death. Fortunately everyone eventually popped up to the surface and crawled or clawed their way back onto the raft.

Blood on feet, elbows and faces showed that none had escaped the rapid's wrath. The rest of the rapids proved to be more sporting and less brutal but equally as fun. Near death rocks, go rafting!

Day 2: Fishing with some local Ugandan boys - It was very relaxing holding the beautiful rod, equipped with the finest lures, that I had hired while the local kids pulled in fish after fish using worms on hooks, tied to string wound on a bottle.

I could make up a story about the ones that got away but truth-be-told they were mostly my lures.

Day 3: Quad Biking - This was exhilerating! A few of us went with a guide through the jungle and the local villages on quads, zooming past bemused locals while kids ran after us screaming "Hello! How are you!?"

At one point we were taken to a school field and told to "Go for it!" 360s, 720s, jumps, skids and burn-outs galore were the order of the day until we were almost too tired to ride. Then back into the jungle...

At one point I was lagging behind the others, going full-throttle to catch up. I missed a corner, hit a rut and flew into a bamboo patch. I had to put the bike into neutral and drag it out backwards while two women carrying water pots on their heads stopped to watch the scene commenting on my lack of quad biking prowess.

When I caught up with the others I said I had made a wrong turn. The guide eyed me suspiciously, pulled some bamboo out of the front of the bike and continued the trail. An awesome day!

Rwanda Genocide Museum

We went to the Rwandan Genocide museum. It details the killing of the Tutsis twelve years ago.

I managed to make it through most of the museum, until I got to the top floor which is dedicated to "the children who were supposed to be our future". It was at the point I came to a photo of an eight year old boy who was murdered by stabbing him through both eyes that I went outside, sat on my heels and cried.

His favourite food: Icecream
His best friend: His mother
Cause of death: Knife through both eyes and machete to the skull

Raichle Boots

I can't resist a small product endorsement here. These boots are quite possibly the most comfortable and well made you can get. They are certainly the best I have ever had, and the mate who introduced me to the brand also swears by them. If you need hiking boots, buy Raichle. Dry, happy feet after mountain trekking to gorillas in Rwanda don't lie.

Gorillas

We went through Uganda and into Rwanda to see the gorillas. I was of the opinion that it would be okay but somewhat like being in a zoo. It turned out to be quite amazing.

The group I went with did the shorter of the hikes; only thirty minutes to get to the gorillas. We were with a gorilla family called "Group 13".

It was amazing to come so close to them. They just ambled about eating bamboo and playing not minding the strange people with cameras.

While we were watching them, the alpha silverback realized my uber-masculine prescence and got a little worried. He thought he had to challenge me to maintain his authority on the group.

If you have ever tried to face down a silverback then you can obviously sympathise with me. 300kgs of raw muscle and fists like sledge hammers. He charged from about ten metres and came straight up to me face to face. I was crouching down to show him that he was superior while the tracker made "oompf oompf" noises to calm him. He stopped just in front of me, decided I was suitably simpering before him and then pushed me out of his way so that he could eat some more bamboo. It was rather exhilerating with lots of adrenaline going through the body.

The baby gorillas were very cute, jumping to get to food and crawling all over the mothers. One mother was up the duff by seven months too.

All in all it was an awesome day.

My Birthday

On the 4th of December I celebrated my 31st birthday with my truck buddies.

It didn’t quite start out as the best day in the world. We had to get up at silly o’clock in the morning before sunrise in order to do a long drive day. I woke up swearing under my breath and muttering expletives like, ‘if the sun isn’t up, it isn’t f$%king daytime’. I stumbled out and packed up my tent and grumbled my way to the truck. Someone then said to me “Happy Birthday Mark!” I had forgotten my own birthday! Luckily everyone on the truck is really lovely and everyone remembered for me.

We put in a good twelve-hour drive day to get to a campsite that George described as “a little bit special”. We got off the truck all achy and tired, but what a place! It had hot showers, which we hadn’t had for several weeks. They had a full bar with whiskeys and gins. This place was absolute luxury. So much so that when we had a cooked breakfast with sausages and bacon (bacon!) the next day, everyone started taking photographs of the meals.

For my birthday though, we had a full Indian meal with freshly killed goat and chickens. It was out of this world.

To my surprise the people on the truck had arranged a chocolate birthday cake, complete with “Happy Birthday Mark!” on the top. How they found a cake like that in the middle of Africa I don’t know. Yum-o! Thanks guys.

As a special gift from the campsite and the truck I also received a box of one hundred condoms. I think the campsite owner, Raj, wasn’t aware of my predicament of having my sweetheart five thousand miles away, and so we did what anyone with rubber johnnies – and nowhere to put them – would do. We put them on our feet, made balloons and put them on our heads.

I will put up pictures if I can get them from the others. I was too busy having my cake and eating it too.

Animal Markings

Wild flamingoes, striped zebra, spotted giraffes - all of these have one thing in common, beautiful markings to confuse predators and attract mates. So too, the african sub-species of the "sock and sandal".

Take a look and stand agog at this Kenyan lesser-spotted striped sock and sandal!

Truck in the wars number 3

Ha! This was hilarious. George accidentally drove the truck off the road!

We were driving along all happy and chatting. Several of us were on a spot on the truck called the 'beach'. It is like a bed or viewing platform where there is no roof and we sit on top of the truck watching the world go by.

While we were gayly passing the time and taking in the landscape, we notice that george is trying to swing wide of some mud in the road. At this point we think nothing of it, but then the truck starts suddenly tilting; first ten degrees, then twenty, then thirty.

Everyone's eyes started popping out of their skull as the truck felt as if it were about to tip over and spill us out into the semi-desert.

I would say I took it all in my stride, but I'm sure you would understand if I said I made a small squeak like a five year old girl.

The truck was fully stuffed into the mud. We all had to dig it out and lay rocks and sandmats to try to get it out. This was unsuccessful. Fortunately there is a sort of desert code where all of the truck drivers help each other out. A passing 24-wheeler helped to give us a tow.

This was most generous of him, which we paid back by reversing into his truck after we were pulled free. No damage, well, to his truck anyway. Our ladder was all bent so as only to allow gymnasts to ascend the truck. We made our tow-angel very happy though with a payment of forty US dollars - a fortune for a Kenyan truck driver. He chuckled all the way back to his truck.

Truck in the wars number 2

We are very lucky we have a man like George driving the truck. Two more bits of truck decided to fall apart. We broke our spare brake actuator that we replaced the first one with. We then also blew out our power steering. Funny for us, lots of work for George. Heh, I'm writing this with the knowledge of what actually happens to the truck later on. Very funny.

Our new buddies

While driving through northern Kenya we had to take a couple of new friends with us - our armed guards.

I sat next to them and chatted for a bit. They were pretty cool but seemed very young to be running around with german-made machine guns, dressed in full camoflage gear.

A taste of Africa

Nic rang me while we were near the border and I was wandering in the town. Here is an excerpt from the conversation to illustrate the African fun we are having.

Nic: "What is it like there? Try to give me a description"

Me: "Okay, so I'm in the middle of the town, well when I mean town I mean a large collection of hut-shops and two official buildings. And when I say I am in the middle of the road, I am actually standing in the middle of the dirt in between the shacks.

There is a herd of goats and some donkeys idling past me just now. They are being led through the town by a young child.

About two metres away is a large bull with horns the length of my arm; apparently without an owner. He is staring at me in a strange way."

At this point some children come up to me to say hello. This happens all throughout Africa and is quite endearing.

Me: "Hold on Nic. Jambo my little friends. Jambo!"

The kids all shake my hand, giggle and then run off to tell their friends they shook hands with a mzungu (crazy white traveller).

Me: "Okay, so where was I? Oh yeah, there is also a... oh, hold on a second! That bull has taken a wee liking to me."

It is at this point that I start to back away from the bull, which seems to be too curious. The bull starts to follow me and I start walking at a relatively quick pace. It follows. I walk. It follows.

I find my escape. I quickly hide behing a red cross land rover. While I am skulking there, the bull idles round from the other side and puts it head around the corner as if to say "I see you!"

I duck into the nearest butcher, hanging with his late buddies, hoping to discourage him from coming near me.

Kenya / Ethiopian border

We camped the night behind the police station on the Kenyan-Ethiopian border on the Kenyan side. The police proudly told us they had the best bar in town at the policemen's canteen. Off we go!

What the police had failed to mention was that the canteen was right next to the prison. In what can only be a wee sense of irony, the Kenyans thought it appropriate to dress all of the convicts in the comedy black and white striped uniforms of old - complete with hat!

We watched as a truck containing the sullen looking, newly made guests of the Kenyan government were taken into the prison.

If the poorly chosen sense of dress wasn't depressing enough for these guys, the fact that they then had to spend the rest of the night listening to us and the police laughing and drinking while playing dance music must have been a crushing blow. Possibly the intention of our lovely hosts, the Kenyan police.

Addis Ababa

Well, where do I start for this town? Should I start on the fact that three of us had attempts at pickpocketing in the market? One of which was successful - poor gunter lost his camera. Or should I start on our hotel, a dubious but fun experience?

Let's talk about the hotel. Pickpocketing is part and parcel of travelling and I could tell you many scam and robbery stories which, although fun to hear, always deters people from travelling to cool places such as Ethiopia. So, our fun hotel it is.

This hotel was known as the "Bel Air Hotel". A good name which would normally be followed up by palm trees and jacuzzis, but in this case was followed up by the proprietor's sideline businesses.

Business number 1: At night all of the taxi drivers parked their cars and vans in the enclosed car park for security. This sounds a pretty good thing, well, at least until you realise just who are quite the main customers for business number 2.

Business number 2: We slept in rooms without locks on the door. Oh wait, I should say that some of us upgraded from tents to rooms without locks on the door so that we could have a (cold) shower. Upon entering the rooms I couldn't understand why the mirror was so low. So low in fact that it was level with the bed. Gavin and I came a little closer to the bed so we could toss a coin for who gets the bed and who gets the floor (still an upgrade, trust me).

I won the toss, went to the bedside and realized the staff had left me a nice present of some sweets. I opened them up and decided that I wasn't going to eat the condoms that were inside. Ah ha, the mirror was because it was an ex-whore house. Er, no actually, as we learnt later in the evening, it is a whore-house.

Woman and men came and went all night, so to speak. They didn't have much room since we were there so they only had room two to perform their carnal acrobatics. Every half hour, a new whore, a new john. It was very funny. The financial transaction completed, they would leave the room and head back to the car. They always looked very embarassed as we sat in the courtyard drinking beer and going "yay!" every time they left.

Addis Ababa: A good laugh. Go there.