I threatened to write my reflections on the trip and a wet afternoon in December seems a good time. The idea of a trip on small bikes in Africa has been brewing for about 2 years. The 250 engine size was prompted by the Yamaha XT250, as I called it, and Simon called it a Serow. What ever it was called, I had bought it in Namibia, did one tour of Namibia and Botswana(around 4,000 miles) and later Simon joined me for a 7 country tour. This was the link I meant to post af the start of this thread, of our trip:
Gaels in Mozambique.
Gaels in Mozambique.The Gaels dream team will be riding in Africa again this year. The destination this is Mozambique. Many of you will realise Mozambique is on the other side of Africa from Namibia, where my XT250 is stored. In fact its 2,167km away, but I'm meeting Si |
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For this Mozambique trip we had Simon on a hired BMW 800GS with road tyres and dodgy head bearings and me on the Yam 250. That trip convinced us both that a 250 was a very capable size bike for Africa riding. It was fast enough for covering the ground and nimble enough for difficult road conditions. I believe this experience was the germ of the idea, to get 250cc bikes and ride back to Africa.
We both know enough about Hondas to realise they are reliable and well made and the fact that Itchy Boots rode a CRF 250 around Southern Africa, further confirmed our choice. So we started to look for suitable bikes over a year ago and found 2 good examples. Most of this year has been fettling the bikes and getting them ready for this trip.
I won't rehash what we did but there was a lot of planning around Simon and Kit's kitchen table on, bike improvements, routes, visas, vaccinations, documents, ferrys and trip timing. Then in Simon's garage and my back yard there were many hours, fitting luggage, deciding on tools, practising puncture repairs, adding fuel reserves, fitting navigation, a thermometer and for me an Android Auto screen with front and rear camera. As we got closer to the departure date we'd have further meetings to compare documents, tools, reserve fuel options, which Spanish port was the ferry going to, etc. What all this added up to was a significant amount of time, thought, activity and emotional energy.
If I move forward to our progress through Morocco I noticed after a few days that I was flagging a bit, particularly in the mornings. I would be OK for the ride but I was lacking energy in the mornings and sometimes in the evenings. I didn't seem to be digesting my food well or getting sufficient sustenance from it. I was never nauseous but food didn't seem to settle well with me.
We did a bit manage a bit of touring in Morocco, visiting Marrakesh and Essaouira, which were really not on our direct route, but we didnt want this to be a gallop through Morocco and we should see some places we liked. In hindsight, we perhaps could have taken more rest days, but at the time, I may have argued against that, wanting to get further south. In fact we only rested one day, in Agadir.
If I now move forward to the border crossing to Mauritania, it was not a difficult crossing but took over 3 hours in temperatures of around 30C, and of course in warm bike gear. It also included the rough no-mans-land, with rocks and deep sand. We both had breathable bike clothing which was cooling as you rode along, but still pretty warm as you rushed around from office to office at a border. We then rode for about an hour to a hotel in Nouadhibou and went out later to get cash, water etc. Apart from the border, not a stressful day.
The next day was to be one of the big days of the trip. This was the 480km ride to Nouakchott, across the heat of the desert and with uncertain refuelling options. We prepared that evening ensuring our reserve tanks were full but also syphoning off fuel into water bottles. As we went to bed, the bikes were as well prepared as we could make them.
I did not sleep well that night waking up with indigestion and didn't feel great in the morning. We did however load the bikes with luggage and go to the early breakfast we'd arranged. It was when I was sitting down to breakfast I felt that I could do the ride that day. We decided to postpone our departure and I took one of the 3 antibotic tablets we'd been given, however they didn't make me feel a lot better and I rested most of that day.
The next day I didnt feel much better and told Simon I still didn't feel up to the ride to Nouakchott and he should consider going ahead on his own and that's what Simon decided to do. We discussed my options, none of which were particularly palatable. I was going to take the 2nd antibiotic tablet and had hopes it would leave me feeling better. I could then consider following Simon down to Nouakchott, a journey I'd done a couple of times before. The other option was going back into Morocco and then ride back to UK. However the 2nd antibiotic still did not materially improve how I felt, so the Nouakchott option was fading away.
If I had got to Nouakchott, I would have 2 challenging routes into Senegal. One was to use the corrupt Rosso border, which I'd promised myself I'd never go through on my own again, and did not seem to have improved in the 11 years since. Option 2 was to use the less complicated Diama border, which had a stretch of difficult offroad, which may have been unwise to attempt on my own. So I was then back to the remaining alternative, riding home.
On my 3rd and 4th day I didn't feel much better and was being advised by the caring hotel staff, to go to the hospital. I didn't know much about the Mauritanian health system but it is a very poor country and going to the hospital didn't fill me with confidence. So I resolved that the next day I would load the bike and attempt the crossing to Mauritania, and that is what happened and the rest is well documented.
Riding back I had to keep my focus on the job in hand and deeper reflections would have to wait. I was able to be present at times, as I passed through the desert in those first few days, and take in its beauty. I do love deserts and was conscious this may be my last time in the depth of the Sahara and even stopped to marvel at a sand dune forming and climb on top and gather some sand, which I now have at home. Thoughts of those few days in Mauritania were ever present, and the wish that the outcome would have been different.
Now that I have returned, friends and family have pointed out that my 5,200 mile ride on a 250cc bike is quite an adventure and achievement. However, it wasn't what I planned and prepared to do, and I think it will take some time to get over that disappointment.
I may add a little bit on what equipment worked and any learning points, but I'll leave this for now. Again thanks for all the interest and supportive comments.