Day 178
Sleeping location: Hotel Chomazone, Lodwar, Kenya
Distance (km today/total): 61 / 12528
Estimated climb (m today/total): 300 / 91500
Stuck at the river: 3hrs
Distance (km today/total): 61 / 12528
Estimated climb (m today/total): 300 / 91500
Stuck at the river: 3hrs
Day in three words: Rain and chaos
In the night we were awoken by the sound of running water and I panicked that something was flooding. But in fact it was RAIN, of all things, and in the morning the skies were overcast with occasional showers. After a premium breakfast involving rare treats like mango and yoghurt we set off at a decent time for Lodwar, the first town in Kenya with ATMs and places to buy SIM cards and goodness knows what other luxuries. On the way out I noticed that my snapped saddle tension bolt was now almost tensioned to its absolute limit. The saddle is useless without it so I tried to stabilise things with a zip tie and set off with heart in mouth.
The road to Lodwar was ruined tarmac that was mostly dirt now. It was much quicker than sand but very bumpy and I had to go slow to preserve my saddle and my (still uncomfortable) “saddle interface area”. We had heard from Sven that the road became tarmac for the last 30km, but with 28km to go there was no sign of it. I stopped and leant my bike against a tree to wait for Rebecca so we could have a break together. The rain came out of nowhere and was almost immediately torrential. I quickly secured and closed all of my panniers, which had been left semi open for months*, and tried to shelter under the tree, but it offered zero cover and I was quickly soaked and pretty cold in the strong wind that had whipped up. I decided to push on for warmth and almost immediately hit the blessed tarmac, but the rain had now strengthened to a level that meant I couldn’t even ride in it, so I went to hide under another near-useless tree whilst it passed, which took another 10 minutes. Quickly the skies lightened and it was dry again, apart from the small lakes and rivers that were now everywhere.
Rebecca turned up in a bit, having made a makeshift bivvy with her tarp to try and escape the rain, but she had been drenched almost immediately as well. We officially set off on the tarmac after almost 200km on dirt sand and gravel, with the addition of very high temperatures and a general lack of places to get food and water. It has undoubtedly been one of the hardest parts of the trip. Even the tarmac was unexpectedly bumpy and everything on Maggie is now squeaking or rattling, and after a particularly bumpy bump the saddle totally failed after the tensioning bolt felt off. I briefly tried to fix it with a zip tie but it didn’t work as the leather now wasn’t tense and my saddle interface area was basically just resting on the metal rails, which wasn’t good for the leather or my saddle interface area. On stopping it became clear that the old bolt was too broken to engage. I had a random spare bolt of similar size but it wasn’t the right shape at either end, but in desperation I decided to try it and by some miracle it fitted and provided enough tension for the saddle to work as a saddle again. I’m not sure how secure or good for the saddle it is, but it will have to do for now.
On the tarmac for the first time meant confirming that they drive on the left here (they do) after not really knowing, or caring, on the sandy or bumpy bits as the most important thing was picking the best route. I made the ceremonial switch of my wing mirror to the other side, which felt very weird after 12kkm of driving on the right. Even after this I kept checking the wrong side to look back, and later I went the wrong way round a roundabout and exited via the wrong side of the other road. At one point on the road we had to ford a small river which had formed as a result of all the rain. As we approached Lodwar we noticed lots of cars and people milling around on the main road into town, and saw that the road appeared to switch from dark asphalt to a strange brown colour after them. This was because the road was in fact a river now. The heavy rain had caused a flash flood and the river was raging when it must usually trickle at best. Nobody could cross it, and we were trapped outside Lodwar with 150 shilling (£1.15), limited food and limited fuel for cooking.
It was only 4pm so we sat down to wait with some delicious chapatis and resurrected the stone throwing game, the target a small bottle which I toppled three times in a row to take the win. After we had been there an hour a lorry made the trip successfully to a chorus of cheers, but nobody else dared for another hour. The next brave soul was not in a 4x4, or a big truck, but in a small hatchback. The water was above the number plate and stalled the engine halfway across, at which point about 20 men rushed into the water and pushed it the rest of the way. On the other side it started again, eventually, but quite a lot of water came out of the seating area when the doors were opened. After this chastening lesson nobody else tried for a while and we continued to wait, usually with the company of multiple children, one of whom kept stroking my leg hair with fascination.
The water continued to recede and a couple of buses made the trip successfully about 6.30pm, although one of them was almost pushed off the edge of the road by the current. At 6.45pm it was almost dark and we were wondering what we were going to do. We decided to head down to literally test the waters, and as we wheeled the bikes a lorry came past with four white guys, who we had noticed earlier were on motorbikes,
In the back. Rebecca shouted to them about us coming aboard, they agreed and we deconstructed the bikes and passed everything up in record time. The white guys turned out to be Spanish but weren’t really interested in talking or doing anything other than filming the locals and borderline mocking them as we left the dry land behind. On the other side we disembarked and thanked them, but as we left they came up to us and asked for money, which had not been mentioned previously. It wasn’t clear how much and in any case we only had 100 shilling, so I gave that and it was accepted with bad grace.
Lodwar was a medium sized town but it felt like an absolute metropolis after our week and a half in the comparative wilderness since Arba Minch. We found a decent hotel (So much choice! Running water! A ceiling fan!) and went out for some decent food, which felt expensive but we aren’t really sure if we are getting ripped off as we don’t know the prices yet**. We also went to a small shop which had so many new items that we went a bit crazy and bought loads of ridiculous stuff for breakfast. There is absolutely loads of begging, from adults as well as kids, which is a bit of a surprise as Kenya is clearly much wealthier than Ethiopia.
*The last rain whilst on the bikes wasn’t even in Africa; it was just before we crossed the Suez Canal
**Don’t tell anyone or they will rip us off more
In the night we were awoken by the sound of running water and I panicked that something was flooding. But in fact it was RAIN, of all things, and in the morning the skies were overcast with occasional showers. After a premium breakfast involving rare treats like mango and yoghurt we set off at a decent time for Lodwar, the first town in Kenya with ATMs and places to buy SIM cards and goodness knows what other luxuries. On the way out I noticed that my snapped saddle tension bolt was now almost tensioned to its absolute limit. The saddle is useless without it so I tried to stabilise things with a zip tie and set off with heart in mouth.
The road to Lodwar was ruined tarmac that was mostly dirt now. It was much quicker than sand but very bumpy and I had to go slow to preserve my saddle and my (still uncomfortable) “saddle interface area”. We had heard from Sven that the road became tarmac for the last 30km, but with 28km to go there was no sign of it. I stopped and leant my bike against a tree to wait for Rebecca so we could have a break together. The rain came out of nowhere and was almost immediately torrential. I quickly secured and closed all of my panniers, which had been left semi open for months*, and tried to shelter under the tree, but it offered zero cover and I was quickly soaked and pretty cold in the strong wind that had whipped up. I decided to push on for warmth and almost immediately hit the blessed tarmac, but the rain had now strengthened to a level that meant I couldn’t even ride in it, so I went to hide under another near-useless tree whilst it passed, which took another 10 minutes. Quickly the skies lightened and it was dry again, apart from the small lakes and rivers that were now everywhere.
Rebecca turned up in a bit, having made a makeshift bivvy with her tarp to try and escape the rain, but she had been drenched almost immediately as well. We officially set off on the tarmac after almost 200km on dirt sand and gravel, with the addition of very high temperatures and a general lack of places to get food and water. It has undoubtedly been one of the hardest parts of the trip. Even the tarmac was unexpectedly bumpy and everything on Maggie is now squeaking or rattling, and after a particularly bumpy bump the saddle totally failed after the tensioning bolt felt off. I briefly tried to fix it with a zip tie but it didn’t work as the leather now wasn’t tense and my saddle interface area was basically just resting on the metal rails, which wasn’t good for the leather or my saddle interface area. On stopping it became clear that the old bolt was too broken to engage. I had a random spare bolt of similar size but it wasn’t the right shape at either end, but in desperation I decided to try it and by some miracle it fitted and provided enough tension for the saddle to work as a saddle again. I’m not sure how secure or good for the saddle it is, but it will have to do for now.
On the tarmac for the first time meant confirming that they drive on the left here (they do) after not really knowing, or caring, on the sandy or bumpy bits as the most important thing was picking the best route. I made the ceremonial switch of my wing mirror to the other side, which felt very weird after 12kkm of driving on the right. Even after this I kept checking the wrong side to look back, and later I went the wrong way round a roundabout and exited via the wrong side of the other road. At one point on the road we had to ford a small river which had formed as a result of all the rain. As we approached Lodwar we noticed lots of cars and people milling around on the main road into town, and saw that the road appeared to switch from dark asphalt to a strange brown colour after them. This was because the road was in fact a river now. The heavy rain had caused a flash flood and the river was raging when it must usually trickle at best. Nobody could cross it, and we were trapped outside Lodwar with 150 shilling (£1.15), limited food and limited fuel for cooking.
It was only 4pm so we sat down to wait with some delicious chapatis and resurrected the stone throwing game, the target a small bottle which I toppled three times in a row to take the win. After we had been there an hour a lorry made the trip successfully to a chorus of cheers, but nobody else dared for another hour. The next brave soul was not in a 4x4, or a big truck, but in a small hatchback. The water was above the number plate and stalled the engine halfway across, at which point about 20 men rushed into the water and pushed it the rest of the way. On the other side it started again, eventually, but quite a lot of water came out of the seating area when the doors were opened. After this chastening lesson nobody else tried for a while and we continued to wait, usually with the company of multiple children, one of whom kept stroking my leg hair with fascination.
The water continued to recede and a couple of buses made the trip successfully about 6.30pm, although one of them was almost pushed off the edge of the road by the current. At 6.45pm it was almost dark and we were wondering what we were going to do. We decided to head down to literally test the waters, and as we wheeled the bikes a lorry came past with four white guys, who we had noticed earlier were on motorbikes,
In the back. Rebecca shouted to them about us coming aboard, they agreed and we deconstructed the bikes and passed everything up in record time. The white guys turned out to be Spanish but weren’t really interested in talking or doing anything other than filming the locals and borderline mocking them as we left the dry land behind. On the other side we disembarked and thanked them, but as we left they came up to us and asked for money, which had not been mentioned previously. It wasn’t clear how much and in any case we only had 100 shilling, so I gave that and it was accepted with bad grace.
Lodwar was a medium sized town but it felt like an absolute metropolis after our week and a half in the comparative wilderness since Arba Minch. We found a decent hotel (So much choice! Running water! A ceiling fan!) and went out for some decent food, which felt expensive but we aren’t really sure if we are getting ripped off as we don’t know the prices yet**. We also went to a small shop which had so many new items that we went a bit crazy and bought loads of ridiculous stuff for breakfast. There is absolutely loads of begging, from adults as well as kids, which is a bit of a surprise as Kenya is clearly much wealthier than Ethiopia.
*The last rain whilst on the bikes wasn’t even in Africa; it was just before we crossed the Suez Canal
**Don’t tell anyone or they will rip us off more
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