With not much to see in Bulawayo I spent a day there fixing up Sombat’s bicycle and planning the next stage to Maun, the main entrance to the Okavango delta in Botswana.
After shopping for some groceries I met Mike, a Zimbabwean bike mechanic that had actually been helping the Flemish cycling legend Roger de Vlaeminck when he came to Zimbabwe to search for some cycling talent. The TV-show broadcasting it was called “Allé, allé, Zimbabwe”, but I had totally forgotten about it.
I got to Matopos national park where I was getting information whether or not it was possible to cross it on a bicycle. At the same time mountain bikers were arriving to make their weekly saterday tour through the park. Them taking some singletracks instead of the tar road, I was very happy to leave my luggage at the gate and to join them for a 40 km ride. Very exciting! I obviously could have used some disc brakes and suspension, but it was fine.
The mountainbikers told me to use a dirt road for 15 km to get back on the main road to Plumtree. I saw a wildebeest, a pack of giraffes and huge white vulchers. Super exciting to see these in the wild! But with so much wildlife around, there had to be predators around too, so I didn’t feel comfortable to be honest with you. There were no people around to ask again, but I saw another bicycle track and footsteps, so I guess it was just me acting like a city-boy. And indeed, when hitting the tar road again, I asked about lions, but there was nothing here.
The border crossing was super easy and for the first time I didn’t had to pay for the visa. I already got warned that people in Botswana were more arrogant and it soon became obvious with the immigration officers. The lady didn’t reach out to get my passport and I almost had to put my cheek against the glass to hand it over. But when she got to hear about the cycling, her mood changed and she was now exclaiming all the details about my ‘crazy’ trip to her colleagues.
I took the shortcut to Masunga missing out on Francistown. What amazed me was the high life standard that people had here compared to Zimbabweans. Nice villas and many cars, there definitely was a broad middle class here. The evening fell and I rang the bell of a random villa. First test for hospitality: I got to sleep in a bed, take a hot bath and have a great dinner and breakfast. I was gonna like Botswana!
First I went through small hills with cool boulders, but the Kalahari was waiting…
At Sibena I was close to getting on the main road to Nata. Due to the heat, a puncture patch came off, I fixed it, but asked someone to put it on pressure for which he asked me 20 Pula (2 USD). Then people diverted me to Tutume, saying it’s the shortcut to Nata, which it obviously wasn’t. Turned out that Botswana was the first country I started saying “fuck you” to people. Maybe it weren’t only the people making me say that, maybe it was just me being too tired to explain again and again why I couldn’t by them a beer, or why he had to blow my tires for free cause I came cycling from Belgium and he should somehow respect that. Normally I have endless patience to explain that I don’t have a job myself etc., but I really did felt tired. More than normally I would “hit the wall”, being completely empty. By now I had covered more than 17.000 km without taking a proper rest. I felt that it was really difficult to eat properly and have good energy for cycling. And the Kalahari was still waiting… If only I could get to Maun I thought.
After 4pm my stomach would settle a bit and I would do another 40km. I reached Motsetse, on the main road to Nata, when it got dark, but having a cold beer was worth it. I pitched my tent behind the bar, but the guard forgot to tell me that he had to leave and close everything off at 5am. Well at least I was on the bike early morning…
I reached Nata at 10 am, but I felt exhausted. I knew I had to eat a lot, but I couldn’t. Was it the heat? I don’t know, should be used to it by now, no? I packed some lunch which I forced myself to eat when I hit the wall again. “Take it easy bro”, is what I told myself. No need to be racing through the Kalahari if you don’t have energy.
Anyway, I carried on, not pushing it too hard so I wouldn’t burn too much energy. The road was incredibly uneventful and progress was slow due to a slight headwind. I just managed to reach Gweta in the evening and the “refreshing pool” sign from the Planet Baobab lodge made me go there. As usual, I bargained a bit and after explaining my trip to the manager she said that I needed a really good rest and offered me a free hut! The place was absolutely amazing and the pool indeed refreshing! I soon forgot about the long day.
There were not many places in between, let’s say every 80 km or so. When I finally reached them I was struck by indifference from the shopkeepers. I had to make big efforts to get there and, them not caring about me, I felt somewhat alone. They all seemed to be so lazy. In most shops people were sleeping, so you would have to wake them up, haha! They would exclaim: “Oh, I’m so tired today!” And I would obviously be thinking if they also had been cycling all day. Whatever, Maun was getting closer and I knew I would see John, the British motorbiker I had already met five times during this trip, again.
The last 100 km to get there took all day and I just couldn’t believe how slow progress was and how much effort it took to get there. At the only place in between, a police checkpoint, I sticked around for a long time trying to get some extra energy. When I walked up to the police camp to refill one bottle of water, I was struck by two very aggressive police officers who refused to give me water. Can you believe that!? One of them had such a flat nose, that I’m sure he had gotten in some serious fights already. By then I had already said ten times that I was cycling, which should have made it obvious that I really need water. “The water was police property and was brought to them by truck.” 10.000 liters of it! They told me I had to buy the small 0.5l bottles that woman were selling there for almost 1 USD. Actually, the flat-nose guy didn’t tell me. It was more like “You listen to me very clearly, move!!!” Like Congo-style aggressiveness. Well, fuck you Botswana! I made a big thing out of it. How bad the police here were and how they should help me out. With many people around, they didn’t like the bad advertisement and they shouted me over again, now to tell me I could take as much water as I wanted. Being close to suffering to cover some distance and then not being appreciated by people made me not enjoying the cycling, which is such a pity really. The last desert, the Sahara, was so much fun! With a tailwind I was just absolutely flying there.
Anyway, I reached Maun where I probably acted like a small boy in a toy store when I got to the supermarket. I ended up visiting nothing around Maun because it was very expensive, but mostly because I only cared about going to the supermarket to feed myself and to get strong again. Seeing John again was absolutely splendid and I look at him as my travelling dad now.
The road turned to the Southwest and I was now finally having some tailwind! A 170 and 240 km day resulted from that before it started pouring rain and the headwind came up again.
Last night in Botswana I camped just before the border to then have one of the easiest border crossings of my trip into Namibia, the 19th country. 300 km lasted till Windhoek, where I was looking forward to a proper break.
I got to Gobabis where I asked a white Namibian guy if there was a bank to change my Pula’s. The banks being closed, he then just invited me to stay with them! How nice! We had a braai (barbeque) together, had a couple of beers, went out and I found some clean clothes when we got back J
The road got really busy though! This time there was no hard shoulder and cars were absolutely flying passed me. A mirror is a must! If there was oncoming traffic, I sometimes rode in the middle of the road, so cars would have to slow down. Otherwise they would just force themselves between me and the oncoming car…going 140km/h! Every time there was a truck, I left the road though.
I spent a last night camping at a small dairy farm. The sky cleared up, and the beautiful hills that surround Windhoek made their appearance. I had done it! Time for a rest and a dip in the pool!
It being Good Friday, all the shops were closed though. The camera and laptop charger were broken and I needed some bicycle spares. The Brooks saddle was now so out of shape that I was not sitting upright on the bicycle and that I had a lot of irritation. This was actually already a problem since day 1, cause the B17 standard is too wide for the 8 cm drop I have between the saddle and the handlebars. Oh well! It got me to Namibia! The holidays were actually really good for me cause it forced me to take a proper break after being on the road for so long.
Next stage: 1000 km off-road passing Sossusvlei. Looking forward to that! And with all the good food here, I’m sure that I’ll be back up and running as before.
Photo’s:
After shopping for some groceries I met Mike, a Zimbabwean bike mechanic that had actually been helping the Flemish cycling legend Roger de Vlaeminck when he came to Zimbabwe to search for some cycling talent. The TV-show broadcasting it was called “Allé, allé, Zimbabwe”, but I had totally forgotten about it.
I got to Matopos national park where I was getting information whether or not it was possible to cross it on a bicycle. At the same time mountain bikers were arriving to make their weekly saterday tour through the park. Them taking some singletracks instead of the tar road, I was very happy to leave my luggage at the gate and to join them for a 40 km ride. Very exciting! I obviously could have used some disc brakes and suspension, but it was fine.
The mountainbikers told me to use a dirt road for 15 km to get back on the main road to Plumtree. I saw a wildebeest, a pack of giraffes and huge white vulchers. Super exciting to see these in the wild! But with so much wildlife around, there had to be predators around too, so I didn’t feel comfortable to be honest with you. There were no people around to ask again, but I saw another bicycle track and footsteps, so I guess it was just me acting like a city-boy. And indeed, when hitting the tar road again, I asked about lions, but there was nothing here.
The border crossing was super easy and for the first time I didn’t had to pay for the visa. I already got warned that people in Botswana were more arrogant and it soon became obvious with the immigration officers. The lady didn’t reach out to get my passport and I almost had to put my cheek against the glass to hand it over. But when she got to hear about the cycling, her mood changed and she was now exclaiming all the details about my ‘crazy’ trip to her colleagues.
I took the shortcut to Masunga missing out on Francistown. What amazed me was the high life standard that people had here compared to Zimbabweans. Nice villas and many cars, there definitely was a broad middle class here. The evening fell and I rang the bell of a random villa. First test for hospitality: I got to sleep in a bed, take a hot bath and have a great dinner and breakfast. I was gonna like Botswana!
First I went through small hills with cool boulders, but the Kalahari was waiting…
At Sibena I was close to getting on the main road to Nata. Due to the heat, a puncture patch came off, I fixed it, but asked someone to put it on pressure for which he asked me 20 Pula (2 USD). Then people diverted me to Tutume, saying it’s the shortcut to Nata, which it obviously wasn’t. Turned out that Botswana was the first country I started saying “fuck you” to people. Maybe it weren’t only the people making me say that, maybe it was just me being too tired to explain again and again why I couldn’t by them a beer, or why he had to blow my tires for free cause I came cycling from Belgium and he should somehow respect that. Normally I have endless patience to explain that I don’t have a job myself etc., but I really did felt tired. More than normally I would “hit the wall”, being completely empty. By now I had covered more than 17.000 km without taking a proper rest. I felt that it was really difficult to eat properly and have good energy for cycling. And the Kalahari was still waiting… If only I could get to Maun I thought.
After 4pm my stomach would settle a bit and I would do another 40km. I reached Motsetse, on the main road to Nata, when it got dark, but having a cold beer was worth it. I pitched my tent behind the bar, but the guard forgot to tell me that he had to leave and close everything off at 5am. Well at least I was on the bike early morning…
I reached Nata at 10 am, but I felt exhausted. I knew I had to eat a lot, but I couldn’t. Was it the heat? I don’t know, should be used to it by now, no? I packed some lunch which I forced myself to eat when I hit the wall again. “Take it easy bro”, is what I told myself. No need to be racing through the Kalahari if you don’t have energy.
Anyway, I carried on, not pushing it too hard so I wouldn’t burn too much energy. The road was incredibly uneventful and progress was slow due to a slight headwind. I just managed to reach Gweta in the evening and the “refreshing pool” sign from the Planet Baobab lodge made me go there. As usual, I bargained a bit and after explaining my trip to the manager she said that I needed a really good rest and offered me a free hut! The place was absolutely amazing and the pool indeed refreshing! I soon forgot about the long day.
There were not many places in between, let’s say every 80 km or so. When I finally reached them I was struck by indifference from the shopkeepers. I had to make big efforts to get there and, them not caring about me, I felt somewhat alone. They all seemed to be so lazy. In most shops people were sleeping, so you would have to wake them up, haha! They would exclaim: “Oh, I’m so tired today!” And I would obviously be thinking if they also had been cycling all day. Whatever, Maun was getting closer and I knew I would see John, the British motorbiker I had already met five times during this trip, again.
The last 100 km to get there took all day and I just couldn’t believe how slow progress was and how much effort it took to get there. At the only place in between, a police checkpoint, I sticked around for a long time trying to get some extra energy. When I walked up to the police camp to refill one bottle of water, I was struck by two very aggressive police officers who refused to give me water. Can you believe that!? One of them had such a flat nose, that I’m sure he had gotten in some serious fights already. By then I had already said ten times that I was cycling, which should have made it obvious that I really need water. “The water was police property and was brought to them by truck.” 10.000 liters of it! They told me I had to buy the small 0.5l bottles that woman were selling there for almost 1 USD. Actually, the flat-nose guy didn’t tell me. It was more like “You listen to me very clearly, move!!!” Like Congo-style aggressiveness. Well, fuck you Botswana! I made a big thing out of it. How bad the police here were and how they should help me out. With many people around, they didn’t like the bad advertisement and they shouted me over again, now to tell me I could take as much water as I wanted. Being close to suffering to cover some distance and then not being appreciated by people made me not enjoying the cycling, which is such a pity really. The last desert, the Sahara, was so much fun! With a tailwind I was just absolutely flying there.
Anyway, I reached Maun where I probably acted like a small boy in a toy store when I got to the supermarket. I ended up visiting nothing around Maun because it was very expensive, but mostly because I only cared about going to the supermarket to feed myself and to get strong again. Seeing John again was absolutely splendid and I look at him as my travelling dad now.
The road turned to the Southwest and I was now finally having some tailwind! A 170 and 240 km day resulted from that before it started pouring rain and the headwind came up again.
Last night in Botswana I camped just before the border to then have one of the easiest border crossings of my trip into Namibia, the 19th country. 300 km lasted till Windhoek, where I was looking forward to a proper break.
I got to Gobabis where I asked a white Namibian guy if there was a bank to change my Pula’s. The banks being closed, he then just invited me to stay with them! How nice! We had a braai (barbeque) together, had a couple of beers, went out and I found some clean clothes when we got back J
The road got really busy though! This time there was no hard shoulder and cars were absolutely flying passed me. A mirror is a must! If there was oncoming traffic, I sometimes rode in the middle of the road, so cars would have to slow down. Otherwise they would just force themselves between me and the oncoming car…going 140km/h! Every time there was a truck, I left the road though.
I spent a last night camping at a small dairy farm. The sky cleared up, and the beautiful hills that surround Windhoek made their appearance. I had done it! Time for a rest and a dip in the pool!
It being Good Friday, all the shops were closed though. The camera and laptop charger were broken and I needed some bicycle spares. The Brooks saddle was now so out of shape that I was not sitting upright on the bicycle and that I had a lot of irritation. This was actually already a problem since day 1, cause the B17 standard is too wide for the 8 cm drop I have between the saddle and the handlebars. Oh well! It got me to Namibia! The holidays were actually really good for me cause it forced me to take a proper break after being on the road for so long.
Next stage: 1000 km off-road passing Sossusvlei. Looking forward to that! And with all the good food here, I’m sure that I’ll be back up and running as before.
Photo’s: