Day 181
Sleeping location: Naperobe Guesthouse, Lokichar, Kenya
Distance (km today/total): 44 / 12621
Estimated climb (m today/total): 200 / 91900
Speed: 8kph
Distance (km today/total): 44 / 12621
Estimated climb (m today/total): 200 / 91900
Speed: 8kph
Day in three words: WHERE IS TARMAC
We were away in decent time but the newly built road quickly ran out and we were pitched onto a horrible rutted muddy rocky sandy puddled road of doom. Progress was very slow and very uncomfortable. At one point the recent floods had collapsed most a bridge and loads of lorries were stuck. This is the Kenyan A1. The scenery was still the uncharacteristically wet and boring desert scrubland and the only thing that kept me sane on this section was realising that I could play podcasts through the speaker of my phone whilst riding. Pretty much everyone we encountered followed a hello with a request for food or money, which makes it feel pointless saying hello or waving to anyone.
It took us 5hrs to cover the 40km to Lokichar, which was a quiet one horse desert town with a real Wild West vibe. On the way into town I did manage to have an actual, non-begging conversation with some solider, who also supplied some good news that the road is tarmac from Lokichar onwards*. We dropped our stuff at a basic but cheap hotel and wandered around pretty much every shop in town trying to find shoes (Rebecca) and somewhere to unlock a SIM card (me). The official phone shop said they couldn’t reset the PIN and that I had to go back 90km to Lodwar or forward 300km to Marigat to do so. I retired to a cafe for some chai, beans and chapatti and enjoyed the sign saying “Kitchen is out of bounce” above the door to the presumably now very static kitchen.
After food I tried another phone shop on a whim, and after making several phone calls the guy somehow managed to reset the code and restore my internet. He didn’t even want any money but I forced some on him as thanks for his fine work. During this a crazy and/or drunk man was hassling both of us whilst holding a cabbage under his arm. Rebecca had bought some shoes so we decided to go to the pub. The man continued following us around town saying unintelligible things, then didn’t follow us when we found a pub, then came into the pub (now mysteriously without cabbage) and had to be forcibly removed. Dinner was, of course, stew with ugali, cabbage and a Guinness.
*Selectively correct, as it turned out. This road was; the road we needed was not.
We were away in decent time but the newly built road quickly ran out and we were pitched onto a horrible rutted muddy rocky sandy puddled road of doom. Progress was very slow and very uncomfortable. At one point the recent floods had collapsed most a bridge and loads of lorries were stuck. This is the Kenyan A1. The scenery was still the uncharacteristically wet and boring desert scrubland and the only thing that kept me sane on this section was realising that I could play podcasts through the speaker of my phone whilst riding. Pretty much everyone we encountered followed a hello with a request for food or money, which makes it feel pointless saying hello or waving to anyone.
It took us 5hrs to cover the 40km to Lokichar, which was a quiet one horse desert town with a real Wild West vibe. On the way into town I did manage to have an actual, non-begging conversation with some solider, who also supplied some good news that the road is tarmac from Lokichar onwards*. We dropped our stuff at a basic but cheap hotel and wandered around pretty much every shop in town trying to find shoes (Rebecca) and somewhere to unlock a SIM card (me). The official phone shop said they couldn’t reset the PIN and that I had to go back 90km to Lodwar or forward 300km to Marigat to do so. I retired to a cafe for some chai, beans and chapatti and enjoyed the sign saying “Kitchen is out of bounce” above the door to the presumably now very static kitchen.
After food I tried another phone shop on a whim, and after making several phone calls the guy somehow managed to reset the code and restore my internet. He didn’t even want any money but I forced some on him as thanks for his fine work. During this a crazy and/or drunk man was hassling both of us whilst holding a cabbage under his arm. Rebecca had bought some shoes so we decided to go to the pub. The man continued following us around town saying unintelligible things, then didn’t follow us when we found a pub, then came into the pub (now mysteriously without cabbage) and had to be forcibly removed. Dinner was, of course, stew with ugali, cabbage and a Guinness.
*Selectively correct, as it turned out. This road was; the road we needed was not.
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