The Start

Day 1 Cairo

Day 1 - 14 jan 2012 - joined up with the group at the hotel in Cairo, followed than by a long wait for the Egyptian police to convoy us to the pyramids, who never showed up....anyhow we left 2 hours later than planned and I managed to come off my bike during the busy streets of Cairo. Fortunately only hurt my hand and was a bit brushed on the leg..nothing serious, just the first fall to get out of the way and get on with the tour...we arrived at the pyramids with much difficulty, had the opening ceremony, took some pics and off we went again through the much polluted Cairo, which by the way I should be used to by now..we finally got to the ain sukhna road ..nice Tarmac..any easy 100 km to our first camp site..desert camp

Day 2 - 165 Km

Day 2 - race day 1!! 165km.....woke up at 6 am packed up the tent etc had breakfast and all set to start..just as we about to start..school boy error for not checking my bike..anyhow looked down and as the horn went noticed my back wheel is flat!! Ran back pump to up the wheel 10 min later another flat! Changed tubes, made sure no thorns were in the tyres..2 min later another flat..and so it went on and I was loosing a lot of time..ended up with changing, patching 3 times, pump up flat 6 times AND much to my slower friends delight ended up riding with the "sweep" whose primary job is to terrorize the slowest riders into quickening their pace...took a bit of flack on that one back at camp. Finally I got a replacement bike from tda as I just could not loose my efi status in the first week..so ended up doing the total ride in 8:45 i think.

The entire route was dedicated to contrasts...not only in my changing pace but in the life taking desert land on the right to the life giving Red Sea to my left, both equally haunting and beautiful. I was humbled cycling along the Red Sea by the fishermen living in small broken houses on the beach. It has only been two days since forgoing my creature comforts and I feel run down and tired, yet rejuvenated in the way that nature only knows...and here is this hardworking man who has never known any other way of life. How would I feel if this was my world...after the comfort I take in knowing that this way if life ends in four months...which seems like lifetimes away right about now and to top this very disastrous day I got held at gun point by two irate sixteen year old Egyptian military men. Jana and I decided to take a walk to the Red Sea after diner. On our way back to camp, our quiet was disturbed by angry screaming in a foreign language. This is not uncommon in Egypt as common pleasantries are typically harshly delivered but then lights came on and I was looking directly into two AK47s with our names written on them. Although Jana had the I brilliant idea to run, I turned it down in favor of following my own Hollywood directed comfort level of holding up my hands defenselessly. They approached aggressively but luckily one was pubescent and succumbed to the flirtations of Jana...telling us that this beach was the host of major drug trafficking. We had an armed escort back to camp and the night ended peacefully. I feel like three days just compressed into one.

Day 3 Hurghada 136 Km

Day three-near Hurghada 136kms...

Today was many shades of brilliant with a few shades of terrible. We have been incredibly blessed with weather, the forces are conspiring to get us all to Capetown as quickly as possible with tailwinds three days straight. I successfully changed and patched my tires into submission yesterday and they cooperated beautifully today, so I made up some race time which eased my conscious. Anxiety is contagious around camp and so much of our stress is false. It is almost comforting to stress about small controllable pieces of our day ignoring the wild variability of the larger picture. So we do in large groups. Today was much the same scenery as yesterday, equally as contrasting left to right. The terrible part came in the form of a psychologically disturbed Bedouin. I had met him earlier and noticed that he was unusual, but he seemed harmless to me at the time. He later lunged and pushed Shona into oncoming traffic, she bounced off a truck and 'luckily' fell to the other side. Had she fallen on the traffic side, she very likely would have been seriously injured, as it was she had deep bruising physically and emotionally. She is recovering from both admirably, such an incredibly strong woman. It highlights how vulnerable we all are and how we are at the mercy of so many as cyclists...and how many people take care of us along the way to prevent this harm.

Day 4 - Safaga 100 Km

Day four - Safaga 100kms

Riders pushed today, harder than usual...not because of the partial headwinds, or the healthy competition that has been developed between racers. Not because it was a particularly challenging day or a long day...but the promise to the first few riders who hit camp of a hot shower was enough of a dangling carrot to rush to camp as quickly as possible. Only the first couple of riders would be rewarded for these efforts, with the remaining forty riders settling for sub freezing cleansing. I made it and was rewarded duly...and then got to spend the afternoon in the most picturesque camp spot imaginable. We were literally sleeping on a sandy beach near the Red Sea.

We had access to porcelain...heaven. Sharita, our fearless leader, added to the intense desire of every cyclist to make the most of this beautiful spot when she told us that it would be the last time we would be camping in proximity to water until South Africa. I had the absolute pleasure of doing dish duty tonight...I hand't yet learned of the brilliance of some of the cyclists from last year, bribing others to take their dish duty. And so I rolled up my sleeves and started cleaning large volumes of pots and pans in arguably 'clean' water. I will have to start collecting some good dirt on other cyclists to bribe my way out of this rare form of torture in the future.

Day 5 - 122 Km

Day five - Police check 122kms

Feeling particularly clever after having gathered intel this morning from the Egyptian cyclists I set off on what I knew would be a most challenging day. I was mentally prepared and that can truthfully be a huge advantage in our little game of long term racing. The day started with a 57km climb out of camp...as it was a gradual climb the fates decided that we required the additional challenge of a substantial headwind. This became a source of much venting and frustration for the weaker riders, as it often felt like although their legs suggested that they should be moving forward, all evidence suggested that they were in fact being pushed backwards. When it was necessary to stretch the neck muscles for fear of cramping, we did catch glimpses of beautiful majestic scenery to the left and right. Rock mountains jutted straight up from the road making us feel small like David in a battle with the funneling wind Goliath. It is humbling to feel so little in the face of such magnitude, and in an odd way it makes you feel completely enveloped in your environment...as if you have been swallowed. Downhills felt like optical illusions today and it was hard to convince our legs that that slight reduction in pressure was actually a downwards facing slope.. The rest of the ride to camp was also challenging with long stretches of open road where the wind would do its best to foil our destination. Luckily camp came about 10kms earlier than expected today...brilliant reprieve, the orange waving flag looked like a mirage waving towards us in the wind.

Day 6 -Luxor 108 Km

Day six - Luxor 108kms

Our entire team appears shell shocked today...we were ambushed unexpectedly by the cane and rock yielding Egyptian youth. Every year on tour there are sections that are expectedly horrible for this type of anti-cyclist behavior, but this stretch typically is not. We were take by surprise and it was quite alarming for staff and cyclists alike. We we skirting the Nile for most of the day and so we passed through small villages frequently. I know from living in Cairo that is is a particularly tumultuous area as there are many waring families. Post-revolution these families have decided to police themselves and it has caused a spike in violence...particularly in some of the town we were cycling through. It made the ride more mentally challenging that physically as we were often forced to slower speeds in order to safely cross town centers. Rocks were thrown and canes swung and almost every rider was hit with some sort of projectile. The worst being one of our staff members Doug, who swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid a caning. He was hit at slow speed by a vehicle and thankfully he is okay and walked away with a broken bike and pieces missing out of his face. I was lucky to only be the target practice of kids who need practice...but today has definitely taken a mental tole on the group. Everyone is a little shaken.

Day 8 - Edfu 116 Km

Day eight- Edfu 116kms


We all set out a little apprehensively today from camp, discussing strategies to avoid repeating the last riding day. I am eager to get out there again, as taking that rest day only seemed to increase the collective stress of our group. Too much time to think about the options. As it often pans out with anxiety, today was far better than expected. We passed through small towns and continued to skirt the Nile. Our instincts were better honed to scope out children reaching for stones and even that extra few seconds of eye contact made all the difference in averting dangerous projectiles. Our camp was in the middle of a campground surrounded by mosques. Cacophony is the only word to describe what happened during prayer times, especially in the early morning when there was very little competing noise. The brain rattled as thy all competed for airtime, but oddly the sound was quite beautiful and calming. I may even miss it when we enter Ethiopia.

Day 9 - Aswan 115 Km

Day nine- Aswan 115kms

Last day in Egypt and I am distraught. I will miss this beautiful country so much.

It is hard to imagine that this ride brings to a close such a long time in Egypt. Even though I hate to admit it Egypt has shaped me in some ways and it feels like the end of an era of living abroad as my final destination is home. I am leaving behind an environment that for me has been purposeful, interesting, intensely frustrating but also rewarding. I know I am ready to leave and this moment has been planned for a long time coming, but I would be remiss if I didn't classify it a little as bittersweet. However, I had one moment today in which. I felt INCREDIBLY ready to go...when my back wheel took a rather large rock to the spokes and started causing me trouble. In that moment you get intensely angry due to the threat to your safety, and the complete disregard for others. But I remind myself that I come from a culture that places a values human life and safeguards it quite differently to the one I am cycling through. Other than the emotional tole of the day, it was a fairly easy riding day. My body has adjusted to the increase of activity.

Day 11 Ferry boat 17 Km

Day eleven- Ferry boat 17kms

We started the day in an organized focused manner and ended it amidst chaos. We rode a convoy across both the old and new Aswan dams. It seemed very casual for a ride across the catalyst for cataclysmic change throughout both Egypt and Sudan. There was a lot of security, but overall it seemed surprisingly organized. Then we hit the ferry boat which would spend the night chauffeuring us to Sudan. We were told to expect the worst, but Sharita was on her game again, making it to the too deck within thirty minutes...nobody messes with that woman, not even the Sudanese ferry captains who we yelling out orders like it was their duty to micromanage every piece of pink shag carpet that made it onto the boat. We brought our bicycles to the top deck (which was deceptively empty at the time) and our luggage to our cabin. This was an ordeal as it seems the same rules that apply to Cairo traffic also apply to onloading boats. People attempting to defy the rules of physics as they used every available space and then some to cram their 'valuables' on board as quickly as possible without worrying about who or what lay ahead of them. Bulldozer style. Crew made a mission of simply yelling at anyone and everyone until they were out of earshot. I think at least ten people were employed for their qualifications for pointing out people's stupidity loudly, but their job description did not extend to actually doing anything about it. The cabin was a little bit of sweet reprieve from the chaos, but far from luxurious with graffiti everywhere and stained mattresses. We watched an impossible scene from the upper deck. Thousands of people hauling odd items on their backs and clamouring to make that initial step on board...knowing once that was made, nothing short of death would gotten off. With only one ferry each week, it is somewhat understandable. Refrigerators, enough carpet to cover a house, boxes of lifelong belongings rode the backs of prospect travelers. Every usable space was maximized until the people were sardined together destined to spoon with the nearest warm body. One of the riders woke up four times in the night to find she was spooning with four different people...and this became normal. It is amazing how quickly you can get used to the abnormal on this trip. We were on the boat by noon and departed by seven pm...this is the new barometer for success...I then realized how similar Sudan and Egypt may actually be. As I watched how much they were piling on board, I formulated my plan for when the boat started sinking...which did not include life rafts as there we clearly not enough. Amazingly we made it to the other side, slightly worse for wear, but alive and well.

Day 12 Wadi Hafla 149 Km

Day twelve- Wadi Hafla 149kms

When the ferry boat landed the next day, we waiting to witness the offloading, which ran incredibly much smoother than the onloading. Likely because it was without the sense of panic that persisted in Egypt, that air ofsurvival of the fittest...everyone crawling over each other to get on board. We saw ourTDA vans for the first time and collectively breathed a sigh of relief, but not quite as loudly as our staff...and this sigh soon turned to frustration as we later tried to cram all our gear into a box which seemed to equal the size of a shoebox. But the look cool factor went up tenfold, which made me happy. We had our first taste of the kindness of the Sudanese people at the border crossing with a wonderful dance put on by some of the locals and the ease in which we entered Sudan with all our gear, EXCEPT that so-called 'dangerous' printer that staff was carrying...which they were forced to toss., randomness prevails even here. Our first riding day in Sudan was a bit of a mixed bag with mostly tailwinds, but those Wadis have that magical property of flipping their winds suddenly and quite randomly, following no general rules of road direction or design. There is an ancient wisdom in all the Wadis that I have visited, they feel like a world unplagued by the modern. Happy to be desolate and harsh...Van Gogh once claimed that the ugly can be beautiful, the pretty never will be. Wadi Hafla is beautiful in its ugliness...it is a vast graveyard of dehydration. One of the riders liked it to "walking on the moon." The sun would play off of the black mountain tops creating shadows of dark beside the blinding bright of the desert. It was a beautiful contrast. At camp tonight there were tons of curious children who we delighted to play frisbee with Alan. The kids here are unassuming and rather shy and curious, which is somewhat of a refreshing change after Egypt. They were asking thereafter for pencils, instead of the usual refrain of money...again it was very refreshing to hear that they valued school supplies. We all had a lot of time for these kids. The women here seem a lot more confident and happy. They walk with ease and engage foreigners without reservation. This is also quite a shift from Egypt. I realized today one gift that Cairo had bestowed upon me, heat tolerance. It is getting very hot and I am thankful not to be coming from a cool climate, it is one more thing stressing some riders. I feel brilliant at the moment.

Day 13 Wadi Hafla further 149 Km

Day thirteen- Wadi Hafla further 149kms

Today was challenging. The morning ride eased us into a false sense of security as it went smoothly and beautifully. After lunch we were hit with a surprise brick wall of wind and an uphill climb...it was a fierce battle until camp for seventy kilometers. The Sudanese people keep astonishing me with kindness, they are the most welcoming people and great ambassadors to their country. They are considerate of cyclists and will stop to make sure that you are okay of you are stopped by the side of the road for any reason. A lot of them simply want to engage you to exchange information about where you are from and explain to you about their country. They are rightfully proud. You don't get the sense that they constantly want something for you, this is a mind shift after having lived in Egypt for so long.

Day 14-Dongola 111 kms

Day fourteen - Dongola 111 Km

We had our first team trial today and I rode with the African team. It changed things up a bit and created some entertainment and a new competitive spirit amongst riders. Not all teams were competitive with the girls and Mike taking the opportunity to entertain the racers throughout the race by creating human pyramid obstacles, or pretending to be injured by the side of the road. Not surprisingly nobody stopped for them, not even the staff members. We had an incredible tailwind and we were flying through the trial. Overall we achieved an honorable second place finish and I was quite happy with the day. The immense tailwinds continued throughout the day but we decided to continue pushing also, so I feel quite burned tonight. We arrived at what is famously referred to as the Dongola Zoo. We are the only animals to grace it though and it is the only place that the riders are allowed to stay in Dongola for some strange reason of policy. There are eery concrete statues of African animals spread around the Zoo. And we were located in a cage with peering locals outside. We were the attraction it would seem. It was okay, BUT...and this is a major 'but' after that ferry ride...there were no showers. We hadn't showered since Aswan and there was no end to the filth in sight. So for purely psychological reasons, I decided to tent at a local guesthouse run by a Korean man named Isa Kuri in Dongola...the three available showers sold me instantly.

It was a fabulous decision as Isa is a fountain of information with regards to the Nubian culture and helped us navigate through Dongola. He made the best coffee that I have had so far on tour, much to his own demise as I requested it frequently. He was more than happy to oblige, and always sat with us and helped us any way possible. It was also a calming place, as opposed to the Zoo, with much fewer people and a little bit of sanity and calm returned to our souls. The shower alone was worth every penny...I will never take another shower for granted as long as I live...