So I was in Sudan but not able to ride. You can't imagine how torturous it is, to see everyone come in, utterly wasted from the road, utterly amazed by the beauty of the land, and for you to be sitting there, full of energy and having only just zipped by everything in a truck. I was sad.
The desert here is so different from Egypt. The yellow is stronger. At times it is vast, at times it is closed in by sand mountains covered in black rocks. Rich black tourmaline-like spikes just out of the sand. The first day had half the distance covered in pavement, and the rest was hard-packed sand. Our desert cowboys - the local Sudanese who are accompanying us - were driving the route setter around, but wound up getting lost, so the riders went through a hellish area of soft-sand. And then the finish. Erin, the nurse, had contacted a belly-bug, so she was riding the truck with me all day. When we got into our desert camp, we went off with a few others and had a yoga session. It was wonderful - right into the setting sun.
Werner, the German fellow who is here through his church group, knows an astounding amount about the stars. He brought us out into the evening and told us what was what, along with the history of the mapping and the legends that go with them. I didn't put up my fly so that I could sit all night looking at the stars - the best thing about Nubia is that there is very little electricity, so you get the most beautiful view of the night sky. I'm also happy to have had my eyes lasered this past year, as it's the first time that I've ever been able to drift off while actually seeing the night sky.
The following morning I realized was also not going to be a riding morning, though I was absolutely sure that the next day would be. On this day everyone rode through villages. There was only about 30 km of tarmac on a 120km day. Hard-packed sand isn't bad to ride on, but it isn't easy either. The villages are comprised of these houses which are mud-packed. There is a perimeter fence, and then on one side you have the bedrooms, and on the other, the kitchen. There is a small area for the bathroom off to another side. In the middle you have a courtyard, usually covered with mats for sitting and drinking tea on. Today I will actually be picking up a little prayer mat to do my yoga on. Also in the villages are the shacks for road travelers which have clay pots filled with water, and through an evaporation system it keeps the water ice cold. It's heavenly. And I didn't think I'd bother with the cokes everyone talks about on this trip, but man, when you're out there and it's the only cold thing - heaven.
We camped by the Nile and I had myself a little swim, along with everyone else. In fact, I waited for a few others to go in just out of fear of crocs. I imagine they've mostly been hunted out, but still.
Then the bugs came. These little nits which were not bothered by any insect repellent. As Andrew said "I think they're actually licking the deet off of me". We wrapped our faces in sarongs, covering our eyes with our glasses. Some were badly bitten. I got away without any bites.
And the sicknesses have started to invade the camp. There is a stomach virus and a feverish cold. I've also missed out on those. So far. Mind you, I missed two days riding because of my ankle.
On our third day, I rode. I made it 70km out of 108. It was fabulous to be back on my bike again. The road was sandy (I can actually ride this bike through the sand! It'll go for a good 10 meters of ankle-deep sand). The sun was intense. I drank four litres by noon. I stopped for a coke stop in one of the villages. Paul lent me a sarong as I had forgotten mine (we have to be fully covered here), and I so I could sit in comfort, knowing that I'm not offending anyone. The funny thing is, if it were all about the bugs and the sun, I could appreciate the covering up, but because they say it's for the protection of the women regarding the men, I just can't respect their views. Not that I won't comply while I'm here, but it's still offensive to me.
The problem with the road here is that there are no real roads - people drive wherever the sand has been packed down, and so you wind up with quite a few trails, so all you can do is follow the bike tires in the sand and hope that you're not following someone who is lost. We get village names for where we'll be passing through, and the locals are very helpful. There is a giant highway being built by the Chinese, much to the disappointment of the Nubians - amidst all the graffiti was one in English which said "Stop Chinese influens on Nubia". They are building all over Sudan in order to secure their oil. There will be a lot of changes here in the next few years, and I can foresee their internal conflict colliding with new, external conflicts.
I started to have problems with my clips. The left foot clip (unsprained ankle) wouldn't clip in, and then after a while it would, so I would hit a long stretch of loose sand, or some scary gravel, have to jump out, and then realize I couldn't. It was so stressful, trying to ride without harming my already weak ankle. Also, one person borrowed my bike without asking, and then readjusted my seat, so I spent the morning trying to get my seat right. I was getting very frustrated and angry. Bad seat means bad knees and new blisters. So it was a bit of a brutal day. But no spills, and after seventy km I flagged down a desert cowboy, and saw that the between the lunch truck and them they had picked up a dozen riders. The temperature was said to have been around 45 degrees. The hot sun pulls all the moisture right out of you, which explains the amount of oil in the local food - Recipe for fool - cook up beans in spices, water and oil. Then add two ounces of oil and some salt and herbs when it's finished. Grab some delicious bread, rip off pieces with your left had to scoop it up with, and eat. No loss of oil here. Hands return to being silky smooth.
The cowboys drove the last 10km to our camp after a break for tea and prayer, and vastly overshot. They were convinced that we were camping past the desert in the more populated Nile area. I tried to convince them that after having cycled over a hundred kilometers, the riders would not be able to cycle another hundred more. Finally they realized their mistake, and so we drove around to highpoints to look for shiny things (trucks). We got in and I was starved. Every day we get a super-salty soup right after the ride, which is a complete godsend. I set up my tent without the fly, but then realized my mistake in the morning. The sandstorm. It was brutal. It started about 3am. One side of my tent was starting to fly up and so I threw my head into that corner so that the tent would stay down. And it got cold.
The next day was a mix of paved and dirt, with some pretty hefty sandy bits. We also had a bit of a miserable try at a quasi-convoy through the desert part that people could easily get lost in - there were about 15 roads, one that was the right one, 11 were the long way, and the rest would take you to god knows where.
Fortunately the day was only 87km. Mark, our mechanic, got my cleat pretty much working (still a little hard to get out of) and the pavement was wonderful. With tailwinds getting up to 40km/hour was easy.
So I'm in Dongola. There's nothing here but people watching and eating chicken and freshly made doughnuts and amazing honey pastries. I've washed all of my disgusting clothing, cleaned my bike, and will be dusting out my cameras and computers - thanks Kerry - the camera cleaner is the best tool ever! I lubed up my tent zippers, I think I'm pretty good with my bike seat placement, and have even (yes it's true) showered (it's been five or six days). I feel wonderful. The falafels are starting to make me feel awful, so I think I'll go eat a watermelon and olives with friends.
I really love it here.
Though I do indeed miss you all.
M
Friday, January 30, 2009
Operation: Desert Storm
We woke up this morning to a storm so intense it took a large amount of planning to pull down my tent without it blowing away. In fact, one person's tent did blow away, and he spent ten minutes chasing it into the desert.
The other day I woke up to a blood red sliver of moon, and while I looked at it, a shooting star flew by.
And all around us is nothing but blissful quiet and solitude.
In Aswan I finished writing email, had what would be my last beer for three weeks, and went for dinner with some of the troupe. Did I mention that stairs in Egypt are not very even? Well, they're not. And I twisted my ankle. Fortunately there was not much riding to be had for a few days. Take this as a lesson though - never put your kids in soccer - they will forever suffer the curse of weak ankles.
But not all was lost. We got on the boat to Wadi Halfa, which passes Abu Simbel and the temple of Hathur- aka the four Egyptian Kings carved into the side of a mountain. It's incredibly beautiful. It's also a site which I thought was in the valley of the Kings, and therefore thought that I had missed. But first we sat for 6 hours while they loaded the boat. We watched as five men hoisted a refrigerator onto the back of one man, who would then carry it onto the boat and down a ladder into the belly of the barge. All I can say is -regarding the bricks for the pyramids - mystery solved. Entering the boat was a strange experience. Forty-seven lycra-covered Westerners (women included) walk into a room full of big Nubian men, all of them smoking and drinking tea while they watched us. The curiosity was as thick as the smoke in the air.
Entering Sudan was interesting. We waited for a couple of hours while the passengers disembarked. Then it was us. It was an absolute madhouse of people. We then had to go into the passport control. Our bags were "searched" - a man looked at them from the outside and occasionally he opened the bag. There is no alcohol allowed in the Sudan, so this was the idea behind the search. Then we waited for our passports to be returned to us by the staff, who had taken them with some of the forms we filled out on the boat. Then we filled out another form as well as a photography license, where we agreed to not take any pictures of poverty, bridges, boats, security areas, etc. etc. We all had to ask the question, How do you define poverty? I figure anyone with a garden or paint on their mudhut is not poor. Have a donkey? Definitely not poor. Camel - verging on rich. Wife? Super-well off.
Unfortunately for me, the trucks arrived right away. That meant that I was for sure going to miss one day of riding.
In Wadi Halfa we rode into a soccer field and witnessed the most astounding sunset. The sky was cloudy, so there was a beautiful mix of oranges and reds and pinks throughout the heavens. We were starved, but couldn't eat until we had fully appreciated the arrival gift that Sudan had given us. I went with James, the cook, and we got fried fish and falafel. The bread here is much better than in Egypt, but the falafels are nowhere near as good. But then, there is also a lot less hassle with bartering or tourist-like touting. I wish we westerners didn't bring out the worst in people.
I will write a second email with the rest of the days in Sudan so that you can have snippets, instead of just one big fat email all at once.
Love and Kisses!
M
The other day I woke up to a blood red sliver of moon, and while I looked at it, a shooting star flew by.
And all around us is nothing but blissful quiet and solitude.
In Aswan I finished writing email, had what would be my last beer for three weeks, and went for dinner with some of the troupe. Did I mention that stairs in Egypt are not very even? Well, they're not. And I twisted my ankle. Fortunately there was not much riding to be had for a few days. Take this as a lesson though - never put your kids in soccer - they will forever suffer the curse of weak ankles.
But not all was lost. We got on the boat to Wadi Halfa, which passes Abu Simbel and the temple of Hathur- aka the four Egyptian Kings carved into the side of a mountain. It's incredibly beautiful. It's also a site which I thought was in the valley of the Kings, and therefore thought that I had missed. But first we sat for 6 hours while they loaded the boat. We watched as five men hoisted a refrigerator onto the back of one man, who would then carry it onto the boat and down a ladder into the belly of the barge. All I can say is -regarding the bricks for the pyramids - mystery solved. Entering the boat was a strange experience. Forty-seven lycra-covered Westerners (women included) walk into a room full of big Nubian men, all of them smoking and drinking tea while they watched us. The curiosity was as thick as the smoke in the air.
Entering Sudan was interesting. We waited for a couple of hours while the passengers disembarked. Then it was us. It was an absolute madhouse of people. We then had to go into the passport control. Our bags were "searched" - a man looked at them from the outside and occasionally he opened the bag. There is no alcohol allowed in the Sudan, so this was the idea behind the search. Then we waited for our passports to be returned to us by the staff, who had taken them with some of the forms we filled out on the boat. Then we filled out another form as well as a photography license, where we agreed to not take any pictures of poverty, bridges, boats, security areas, etc. etc. We all had to ask the question, How do you define poverty? I figure anyone with a garden or paint on their mudhut is not poor. Have a donkey? Definitely not poor. Camel - verging on rich. Wife? Super-well off.
Unfortunately for me, the trucks arrived right away. That meant that I was for sure going to miss one day of riding.
In Wadi Halfa we rode into a soccer field and witnessed the most astounding sunset. The sky was cloudy, so there was a beautiful mix of oranges and reds and pinks throughout the heavens. We were starved, but couldn't eat until we had fully appreciated the arrival gift that Sudan had given us. I went with James, the cook, and we got fried fish and falafel. The bread here is much better than in Egypt, but the falafels are nowhere near as good. But then, there is also a lot less hassle with bartering or tourist-like touting. I wish we westerners didn't bring out the worst in people.
I will write a second email with the rest of the days in Sudan so that you can have snippets, instead of just one big fat email all at once.
Love and Kisses!
M
Life on De-Nile
Through hazy eyes I looked out on the mists covering the rice patty fields, incense trees peeking out from the blue grey. We had just had a breakfast of falafel on Pita with tabouleh, then another pita with fool - cooked spiced beas, and a third with braised eggplant. I traded my eggplant. This morning was beautiful. I dusted off my tent from the soccer field which we camped in, threw my bag onto the temporary truck (our other two convoy trucks are headed early to the ferry as it can take them anywhere up to 48 hours to make the 6 hour crossing), and rode off. We raced till noon. I lead the pack for most of the day. Having taken a large part of the wind, I fell out of the real competition on the last, and most important 10km dash. Travelling along the Nile is the most beautiful thing. to our left is the desert. People in houses made of stone so crumbly that it is hard to differentiate from the mortar. On the right, the agriculture and the river. The contrast is so incredibly astounding. And there are the children. Yesterday one of the little bastards got me. "Hello, Hello" is fine, but throw a rock my way and I start to question why birthcontrol isn't more prevalent in this country. At least in the Sudan there won't be the sugarcane for them to hit us with. We left Luxor. I tried and failed to get a telephone working. So no calls home for my first month here. I tried and failed to pictures uploaded - though a friend has given me a tip - I'll be getting my shots onto Picassa when we get into Addis. At Luxor I went to Karnak, ancient Thebes. You can see the temples all you want in films, but ;nothing prepares you for their actual size. Touching the walls was a tremendous experience. You can feel the age and the sacred worship that took place there. You can also feel the life of the slaves in the rock. I was both bewildered and saddened. The running dialogue told us about "sweet Hatshepsoot", who ordered the might obelisk to be carved of granite and transported to Karnak. Given the lives it cost, I can hardly imagine her as sweet. But all in all, one of the most amazing sites I have seen. Even more impressive than the pyramids, though I don' t know why. We rode the next day to Idfu, which is where we stayed in the soccer field. I had a bit of a crap day, though a crap day of biking in Africa is a better day than anywhere else (except perhaps in the arms of a loved one). I woke up and the water that they had used to clean the trucks had slowly formed a very large mudpuddle leading right up to my tent. A few soakers and some messy gear later, and i was on my way. Things went smoothly, until I hit a nail about the size of my pinky. one tire change later, and I was off and riding with Craig, a nice fellow from England - banker who has stopped working to bike around the world. We chatted all day (I'm trying to have long chats with everyone, one at a time). We had lunch on a sandy beach by the Nile. The rest of the day was a breeze, other than being stoned by a small child with a big grin. At the soccer statium i felt the first of the harshness of the Egyptian sun. I was so exhausted by the mere heat of it all - I headed off with the twins (two south Africans who had been friends since grade 4), for tea, and then came back to repack my bag - there is nothing more annoying than working out the perfect system, only to have to rework it because we're crossing into the Sudan. I had a long conversation with one of the Egyptian riders - about the love of his life, his religion, and the wonderful taste of sugarcanes - peel off the outer reed and chew the sugar out - wonderful. I have a driving desire to learn Arabic when I get back. Sorry if I'm not responding to all of the shorter emails - I love receiving them, I just get barely anytime with the web, and because our restdays are so short, we all try to max out on sightseeing time. But do send your hellos. It's nice to hear that someone is out there. Oh, and to kill a rumour - I was not hit by a truck - when I said I hit the truck, I meant it figuratively, like hitting the books. I sat on it bacause of the pain in my knees, which is gone now. Right now we're in Aswan - where Agatha Christie wrote Death on the Nile. The Cataract hotel where she wrote it is closed for Reno. To bad. I would have loved to have a G&T there. I guess cafe on the Nile will have to do. Don't feel like I'm too spoiled though - once we enter the Sudan all comforts go out the window. I only hope I brought enough toilet paper.
Big Love,
M
Big Love,
M
Dee-Luxor
Six straight days, almost 700km, and finally we're back into green. It's amazing how revitalizing it is, just to have colour again. the vast terrain of mustard yellow was beautiful, but I know know the experience of coming upon an oasis.
We rode into Luxor just before noon. We had ridden for about 100km that morning. It was odly, the hardest ride. When you know that your rest day is at the end of the road, the road's end can't come quickly enough.
I last left off at Sufata, where we camped at the Red Sea. It was the most wonderful night. Realize, that we were still travelling with an almost full moon. The waves rolled in gently all night. Arabic music played in the distance with all of its bells and chant-like singing. It was meant to be cold, but I found a reed wind-break. It was heaven. Other than the fact that the alarm on my watch doesn't work, that is. I woke up at 4 am and every 15 minutes thereafter to check to see if it was time to get up yet. Finally 5:30 rolled around and I was a wreck. And of course, there was the nervous antidcipation for our day - 140 km, uphill for most of it, headwinds.
It's so great when predictions are wrong. Yes it was 140 km. The first 60 km were uphill with a slight headwind - we went up almost 700m over the whole distance - it was about a 2% grade the whole way. Unless you're from Saskatchewan, it was barely noticeable. The remaining ride was with a tailwind, so it was about the easiest ride ever - so unbelieveably enjoyable. And, since we were going through the mountain pass, it was gorgeous. The funny thing with the desert - because you're going through such a vast area, it's strangely comforting. When you're in the outer hill regions, it seems intimidating. I suppose it's because you know that if you were on foot, once you finally made it through the desert, you would still have to climb some mountains to get out of there.
And my bike is sooooo wonderful! For thhose of you who don't know the story - I picked up my bike on the way to the airport. I had gotten approximately an hour's riding time in on the same style of frame, but that was about it - which pretty much accounts for my knee problems and the blisters I've been getting (where no woman should ever get a blister). I reset my seat position and do tons of streches while riding, and it's great! It goes downhill so astoundingly fast! I've been doing on average 25km/hour, and my top speed so far was somewhere around 50km/hour - and we've barely seen any real hills. Whenever I'm on a downhill it's great because I can pretty much outrun everybody. I was so worried about taking a bike that wasn't Big Shiny Red (the tank I've been riding for over a decade now), but it's totally worked out.
And I'm loving the pelletons - I start out with the racers every morning when it's a race day, and we ride together for about 40km, then I tend to break off - photos or washroom usually beckon. I tend to catch them at the lunch truck again. I know I'm not the fastest - some of these folk are shockingly fast, but I'm having loads of fun. And stopping for tea is so great! Little thatch huts on the highway filled with laughing men who think the spandex is utterly ridiculous. And it allows us to break free from "Our Heroes" the police assigned to guard us this whole trip, but generally just follow the female packs and make it unbelievably uncomfortable for us to have pee-breaks. Sometimes they also like to re-route us without the Tour's knowing. Fortunately the one time they did that to us we managed to get back onto the trail.
The ride into Luxor was green and lush. Regal palms bracketed the roadside, farms were everywhere. Kids laughed and waved, "Hallo, Hallo", a break to the sameness of their everyday. Armed Bedouin guard the bridges across the Nile, their serious faces shining when smiles of greeting break through. And then the villages got closer and the kids started to block our road, throw the occasional stone, and hit us with sugar canes. They didn't come after me, though I'm sure that's still to come. When the parents caught them they would beat them or throw stones at them. It is what it is, right. It was also refreshing to see women again. Since they don't do the manual labour in the country, you don't see them in the desert.
Tomorrow I'm up at 5:30 again and will ride out to some new place. The Next day is Aswan, and then we get on the boat to Sudan. It's scheduled as a nine hour tour, should take 22 hours, but may take 48. You may not hear from me for three weeks. Last year there was no internet in the Sudan. Things change fast in Africa, but things stay the same for longer.
So, you will either hear from me when I get to Khartoum, or Addis Abiba. I will try to call home tonight, but who knows if that will work.
Much Love,
M
We rode into Luxor just before noon. We had ridden for about 100km that morning. It was odly, the hardest ride. When you know that your rest day is at the end of the road, the road's end can't come quickly enough.
I last left off at Sufata, where we camped at the Red Sea. It was the most wonderful night. Realize, that we were still travelling with an almost full moon. The waves rolled in gently all night. Arabic music played in the distance with all of its bells and chant-like singing. It was meant to be cold, but I found a reed wind-break. It was heaven. Other than the fact that the alarm on my watch doesn't work, that is. I woke up at 4 am and every 15 minutes thereafter to check to see if it was time to get up yet. Finally 5:30 rolled around and I was a wreck. And of course, there was the nervous antidcipation for our day - 140 km, uphill for most of it, headwinds.
It's so great when predictions are wrong. Yes it was 140 km. The first 60 km were uphill with a slight headwind - we went up almost 700m over the whole distance - it was about a 2% grade the whole way. Unless you're from Saskatchewan, it was barely noticeable. The remaining ride was with a tailwind, so it was about the easiest ride ever - so unbelieveably enjoyable. And, since we were going through the mountain pass, it was gorgeous. The funny thing with the desert - because you're going through such a vast area, it's strangely comforting. When you're in the outer hill regions, it seems intimidating. I suppose it's because you know that if you were on foot, once you finally made it through the desert, you would still have to climb some mountains to get out of there.
And my bike is sooooo wonderful! For thhose of you who don't know the story - I picked up my bike on the way to the airport. I had gotten approximately an hour's riding time in on the same style of frame, but that was about it - which pretty much accounts for my knee problems and the blisters I've been getting (where no woman should ever get a blister). I reset my seat position and do tons of streches while riding, and it's great! It goes downhill so astoundingly fast! I've been doing on average 25km/hour, and my top speed so far was somewhere around 50km/hour - and we've barely seen any real hills. Whenever I'm on a downhill it's great because I can pretty much outrun everybody. I was so worried about taking a bike that wasn't Big Shiny Red (the tank I've been riding for over a decade now), but it's totally worked out.
And I'm loving the pelletons - I start out with the racers every morning when it's a race day, and we ride together for about 40km, then I tend to break off - photos or washroom usually beckon. I tend to catch them at the lunch truck again. I know I'm not the fastest - some of these folk are shockingly fast, but I'm having loads of fun. And stopping for tea is so great! Little thatch huts on the highway filled with laughing men who think the spandex is utterly ridiculous. And it allows us to break free from "Our Heroes" the police assigned to guard us this whole trip, but generally just follow the female packs and make it unbelievably uncomfortable for us to have pee-breaks. Sometimes they also like to re-route us without the Tour's knowing. Fortunately the one time they did that to us we managed to get back onto the trail.
The ride into Luxor was green and lush. Regal palms bracketed the roadside, farms were everywhere. Kids laughed and waved, "Hallo, Hallo", a break to the sameness of their everyday. Armed Bedouin guard the bridges across the Nile, their serious faces shining when smiles of greeting break through. And then the villages got closer and the kids started to block our road, throw the occasional stone, and hit us with sugar canes. They didn't come after me, though I'm sure that's still to come. When the parents caught them they would beat them or throw stones at them. It is what it is, right. It was also refreshing to see women again. Since they don't do the manual labour in the country, you don't see them in the desert.
Tomorrow I'm up at 5:30 again and will ride out to some new place. The Next day is Aswan, and then we get on the boat to Sudan. It's scheduled as a nine hour tour, should take 22 hours, but may take 48. You may not hear from me for three weeks. Last year there was no internet in the Sudan. Things change fast in Africa, but things stay the same for longer.
So, you will either hear from me when I get to Khartoum, or Addis Abiba. I will try to call home tonight, but who knows if that will work.
Much Love,
M
Thursday, January 15, 2009
There is something so wonderful about getting rid of the grit of the Nubian desert. Not that swimming in the Red Sea wasn't a good quick fix, but you can pretty much float sitting up in the water, which tells you how salty it is.
We're in Safaga right now. We've been passing through the desert with the Red Sea to the left and mountain ranges to our right. Today we saw a few trees. Everything is mustard coloured. It's amazing how rich a colour can look after you see nothing but yellow for a few days. The people on the trip are great, the Egyptians - well, we haven't had much contact. Nobody lives in the desert. We hear a lot of "Salaam Habibi"s from the workers we pass. They are building a resort complex by the Sea. Correction... they are building about 30 resort complexes. That's all we passed on day two. Day one was brutal. 165km, all against the wind.
But let me start at the beginning. Sherif took me out with some of his friends - they were these two awesome women - one Egyptian and one Serbian. We went to old Cairo and saw the mesjids - the new correct word in English for Mosque. They are the biggest Mesjids in Cairo. It was so different from Malaysia, where there is no way a "heathen" as they called us, would be allowed into a Mesjid. We then scampered over to the night market. The aroma of cooking food mixed with the sights of coloured glass, shishas, textiles, and about any imaginable Egyptian trinket you could think of... it was so fun to walk through. We went to a coffee shop and had tea. I love Egyptian tea - straight black tea with a sprig of mint thrown in, a bunch of sugar - all in a gold embellished glass. Sherif bought us all scarab bracelets from one of the market kids. He then got my hand henna-ed by a Sudanese girl (in Sudan the henna is black). With swift, soft brush strokes, my hand was covered in a beautiful floral line, from finger tip to just past my wrist. After a tasty falafel sandwich (boy are we not getting the right stuff back home), a view of Cairo from the highest hill at night, and a quick end of the night tea, I crashed at midnight, only to get up at 5:30 the next day.
We packed up and rode in convoy to the Pyramids of Giza. Starting there, we rode all the way out of town. We picked up a few members of the Cairo Cycling club, who are going to ride with us to Ashwan ( where we head off to Sudan). The ride was horrific - head winds the whole way. My knees were toast. I used some of Rob's massage oil, some anti-inflammatory, but still the next day I was in rough shape.
The next day we were riding with the wind. Suddenly everything was wonderful. Except my knee. I went 70 of the 130 km, and then hit the truck - it was swollen and popping. I started with the racers and we drafted each other for thirty km, at which point I bailed because of the pain. I rode the rest of the way to the lunch truck and readjusted my seat until if finally felt better, but I had pretty much killed it for the day. We camped out a fair hike from the sea, but man was it worth it.
The following day was more of the same, tail winds and beautiful. We rode 135km in less than 6 hours. I started with the racers and got some amazing shots with my camera set-up (which seems to have everyone interested). After about 40 km I tailed off - I don't understand how they don't go pee. But then we all caught up again at lunch.
I made a terrible discovery. I was trying to remember where my degreaser was. I remembered decanting it into something. Suddenly a flurry of connections sped through my head, and I said aloud " Oh Shit!"
I had decanted it into an old iron supplement bottle - then forgot to mark it. I remember thinking to myself how nice it was that my supplement didn't have that hideous caramel flavouring anymore. Also, when I mixed it in with my vitamin C and shook it up, it foamed up. Up until then I had just stirred it. And suddenly my morning and evening toilet races were making a lot more sense. Thank God I buy the biodgradable, not too filled with harsh chemicals kind of degreaser. Sadly, between the person beside me who I told about my realization, and the nurse, everyone knows about my little incident.
And I bet you were all worried about people with machine guns killing me! Hah!
Today was only 100km. We are here for the night, and then it's 154km uphill with (Inshe Allah) the wind at our backs. Then we have a 99km ride into Luxor, and you'll get to hear from me again. The weather is like a Vancouver summer. I'm clean and well fed. My biggest worry is keeping all of my stuff meticulously organized. Life is wonderful.
We're in Safaga right now. We've been passing through the desert with the Red Sea to the left and mountain ranges to our right. Today we saw a few trees. Everything is mustard coloured. It's amazing how rich a colour can look after you see nothing but yellow for a few days. The people on the trip are great, the Egyptians - well, we haven't had much contact. Nobody lives in the desert. We hear a lot of "Salaam Habibi"s from the workers we pass. They are building a resort complex by the Sea. Correction... they are building about 30 resort complexes. That's all we passed on day two. Day one was brutal. 165km, all against the wind.
But let me start at the beginning. Sherif took me out with some of his friends - they were these two awesome women - one Egyptian and one Serbian. We went to old Cairo and saw the mesjids - the new correct word in English for Mosque. They are the biggest Mesjids in Cairo. It was so different from Malaysia, where there is no way a "heathen" as they called us, would be allowed into a Mesjid. We then scampered over to the night market. The aroma of cooking food mixed with the sights of coloured glass, shishas, textiles, and about any imaginable Egyptian trinket you could think of... it was so fun to walk through. We went to a coffee shop and had tea. I love Egyptian tea - straight black tea with a sprig of mint thrown in, a bunch of sugar - all in a gold embellished glass. Sherif bought us all scarab bracelets from one of the market kids. He then got my hand henna-ed by a Sudanese girl (in Sudan the henna is black). With swift, soft brush strokes, my hand was covered in a beautiful floral line, from finger tip to just past my wrist. After a tasty falafel sandwich (boy are we not getting the right stuff back home), a view of Cairo from the highest hill at night, and a quick end of the night tea, I crashed at midnight, only to get up at 5:30 the next day.
We packed up and rode in convoy to the Pyramids of Giza. Starting there, we rode all the way out of town. We picked up a few members of the Cairo Cycling club, who are going to ride with us to Ashwan ( where we head off to Sudan). The ride was horrific - head winds the whole way. My knees were toast. I used some of Rob's massage oil, some anti-inflammatory, but still the next day I was in rough shape.
The next day we were riding with the wind. Suddenly everything was wonderful. Except my knee. I went 70 of the 130 km, and then hit the truck - it was swollen and popping. I started with the racers and we drafted each other for thirty km, at which point I bailed because of the pain. I rode the rest of the way to the lunch truck and readjusted my seat until if finally felt better, but I had pretty much killed it for the day. We camped out a fair hike from the sea, but man was it worth it.
The following day was more of the same, tail winds and beautiful. We rode 135km in less than 6 hours. I started with the racers and got some amazing shots with my camera set-up (which seems to have everyone interested). After about 40 km I tailed off - I don't understand how they don't go pee. But then we all caught up again at lunch.
I made a terrible discovery. I was trying to remember where my degreaser was. I remembered decanting it into something. Suddenly a flurry of connections sped through my head, and I said aloud " Oh Shit!"
I had decanted it into an old iron supplement bottle - then forgot to mark it. I remember thinking to myself how nice it was that my supplement didn't have that hideous caramel flavouring anymore. Also, when I mixed it in with my vitamin C and shook it up, it foamed up. Up until then I had just stirred it. And suddenly my morning and evening toilet races were making a lot more sense. Thank God I buy the biodgradable, not too filled with harsh chemicals kind of degreaser. Sadly, between the person beside me who I told about my realization, and the nurse, everyone knows about my little incident.
And I bet you were all worried about people with machine guns killing me! Hah!
Today was only 100km. We are here for the night, and then it's 154km uphill with (Inshe Allah) the wind at our backs. Then we have a 99km ride into Luxor, and you'll get to hear from me again. The weather is like a Vancouver summer. I'm clean and well fed. My biggest worry is keeping all of my stuff meticulously organized. Life is wonderful.
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