I Cycled Africa

Riding the Tour D’Afrique days 114 to 121, Namibian Border to Cape Town

Final Stats

Distance Cycled: 11,218km

Meters Climbed: 60,688m

Time on Bike: 439:22:43

Time in Truck: 0:00:00

Race Position: 2nd

Countries Visited: 11

Number of Pedal Strokes: 2.1million*

*I have no way of verifying this.

And so it ends.

Cederberg Sunset

Before I begin a reflection, there was the small matter of cycling the final stretch through South Africa, through the Namaqualand desert in the north and over the Cederberg mountain range and onto the cape. It wouldn’t be TDA’s style to let us just cruise into the finish and true to form this last stretch was incredibly hard. Initially climbing out of the Orange river valley, for our first taste of cycling in South Africa we were hit with an endless, shallow climb into a brutal headwind. We were then back on the dirt and the scenery, though still great, was similar just not quite as awesome as it was in Namibia. Coupled with that, the thought of finishing was now very much tangible and the more I thought about home, the harder it was to find the motivation to keep pedalling. Then as the temperatures dropped and the scenery greened and the Cederberg mountains rose, we were treated to some incredible mountain passes and soaring descents. Included in this was, in my opinion, the hardest day of the tour. Starting the day in temperatures more akin to a winter's morning in the UK, we battled rolling, corrugated and sandy terrain before the heavens opened just in time for the longest and steepest single climb of the tour, the Middleberg pass. Once surmounted, the resulting plateau challenged us further with more headwinds all the way to camp. A fitting end to the final ever race day of the tour d’Afrique.

Ed, climbing the Middleberg pass

Soon came our final day on the bike. For the final 20km spin along the coast we were brought together in a police convoy before reaching the finish flag on lagoon beach. Throughout the final short days ride I noted the absence of emotion I was feeling, it was a beautiful ride, for sure, with table mountain ahead getting ever larger as the day went on, but it still very much felt like another day. This was a moment I had been thinking and dreaming about for the past 18 months and one I’d visualised so many times. Yet as I rolled in with Charles, where he was instantly met with a throng of friends and family, there I was, alone at the finish line, entirely unsure what to do with myself and utterly unsure of how to feel. In those solitary seconds, the wave of emotion finally hit me, built up over the previous year and a half. Completely overwhelmed I was actually glad to spent a few moments by myself to just breathe. I’d cycled and raced every inch across the African continent, a dream accomplished. It’s hard to say exactly how I felt in those initial moments, before the congratulations and photos began, and I imagine it will be some time before I can begin to understand and consolidate what the last four months means.

For now though I am excited to return home, to see my family and Georgina and friends and feel energised to take on the next stage of life.

Convoy to Cape Town

One immediate reflection, though, beginning with a quote from Ernest Hemmingway:

“It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are”.

I knew that the Sahara was big, but by cycling across it I understand it’s vastness. I knew lake Victoria was big, but by circumnavigating it by bike, I understand its enormity. I knew how sparsely populated the Botswana plains and the Namib desert were, but by hours spent on the saddle I understand their emptiness. I knew of Africa as a geographical concept, but by exercising millions of pedals strokes from Cairo to Cape Town, I understand its diversity, it’s beauty and it’s magnificence. Even then I feel I have scraped only the surface of what the continent has to offer, so in some ways the sheer size of Africa is more huge and imposing to me than before the trip.

For me there is also a deeper meaning to this quote than just remembering the contours. Riding a bicycle through each country you are placed directly in each moment, and not simply passing through at speed from tourist site to tourist site, the way you would in a motor vehicle. In that way, I think tour has simultaneously made the world a smaller place, particularly on a human level. As distant and different as Africa used to seem, wherever I went there were people getting on with their ordinary lives with similar basic needs and desires: Whether it's sharing chai in Sudan with a local elder chatting away proudly about his family, a Rwandan barista discussing the challenges of setting up a new business venture or pretending to be an Arsenal supporter in a bar in Botswana and failing to hold my own in a zealous and passionate discussion about the latest English premier league results. Family, work, sport, all very familiar examples. All experiences in towns and villages off the tourist route, all interactions made possible through travelling by bicycle.

Cederberg descent

In honesty, the cycling aspect was as difficult as I expected, and the camping and facilities actually a little easier. It was the variety of the challenges that were placed in front of me that were surprising. Battling sometimes excruciating injuries in Egypt and northern Sudan, to brutal corrugation and searing heat in the south. Constantly packing wet tents, cycling in the rain and through a fever in Uganda. Punctures, fatigue, more rain and annoying kids in Malawi. Endless stretches of nothingness in Botswana and brutally tough days in Namibia and South Africa. Yet the most difficult challenges were certainly mental. The hardest days were often not the most physically tough, but those where you mentally switch off for the day, desperate just to get to camp, and you watch the cycling computer desperately wishing the kilometre reading to go faster. I’m not sure about the cliche of finding myself, but through these daily challenges I have definitely learnt about what it means to commit to a goal, to persevere and to gather self-motivation. So have I accomplished what I set out to? I crossed the African continent by bike, I cycled every inch, I glimpsed at the way of life of the peoples of each country, and foremost I had an incredible and unforgettable time. I’d set out to do something big, and in that I’ve succeeded. However, what I don’t believe is that I’ve found my limits, the points at which I would have cracked. Maybe that’s why I’m told its rare to feel entirely satisfied after such a trip, there's always more to see and more ways to push yourself. So perhaps the conclusion is: What next?

The finish line

Cederberg valley

A windmill..