Anna in Lusaka

Missive from Lusaka: Zambia

I was feeling singularly depressed when sending off the last two blogs. Things weren’t going to plan, or to any plan I could reconcile myself to. I am not very good at hanging on a beach, and that seemed like the best available option under the circumstances, until I could get my bike home.
Things changed in about three minutes. As I stood up to leave the internet café I noticed that the big guy sitting next to me was wearing motocross boots. No-one wears motor-cross boots in 35 degree heat, with high humidity, unless the bike it pretty big. “Um, excuse me … Are you here on a bike? Where are you from? What are you riding?” I blurted it all at once. I explained that I was feeling pretty depressed about a cylinder head that just didn’t feel like staying on, and needed to figure out how to get myself home. “Horrible feeling” he replied, “I’m riding a Yamaha Tenere 660. I rode up from Durban, but have just spent three weeks in a hammock waiting for a new chain and sprocket to arrive. These came today; I’m riding to Malawi at four thirty tomorrow morning, and you’re free to jump on if you like.” How could I resist? That was it, organized, in less than three minutes. We hadn’t even exchanged names. My plan now was to ride with George (we did eventually get round to the name exchange scenario), for two or three days, and then to get back to Vilankulos by public transport to organize getting my bike home.
I arrived back at the guest-house all smiles, having left there in the morning most clearly grumpy. “It’s all good, I am leaving tomorrow, to Malawi with a friend, on his bike” I sang. The barman looked disturbed. “This friend, did you know him from before?” “No, but he is fine”, I replied. He looked a little more concerned.
It turns out that George is a great companion. He also spent nine months in India on an Enfield, and we have a number of friends and acquaintances in common.
We are not, however, in Malawi. Here’s how and why. Four-thirty the next day, at the appointed time I started forcing myself out of my sleep. No sign of George. Five thirty I decided that I should probably get up and get my gear together. I vaguely wondered if he had thought better of it, and done a runner. Six thirty and I was getting messy with mangos when I heard a comforting rumble. I was thrilled that I was not the only person to swear I was leaving at dawn, and but also that he was a little better at me at keeping a time schedule…We set off North, with me as a pillion passenger.
Now riding pillion was never my intention, but I have discovered that it has some advantages. My coffee addiction, which has been all too irregularly sated on this trip, is less of a problem – I can (and do) have a snooze when I want to. I don’t have to take responsibility for watching the mileage for fuel stops, and I get to see more of the view and haul out the camera whenever I want. When we hit a guinea fowl, my boot takes the secondary knock, and when I get stung by a bee on the throat, someone else can scrape the sting out. I have missed taking the corners, and the pillion pressure sores aren’t the greatest – but the pillow that I have bought to help with these provides great giggle currency for anyone who sees me getting on or off the bike.  
After the first day of riding we stopped to look at the map and plan the onward journey. “Actually”, said George, “This whole trip was about getting to Lusaka, but I am out of time. If I head there I will have to fly home, and find somewhere to store my bike.” I am still not sure if he was suggesting the obvious here, or whether I was just forward, but my automatic reply was, “Store the bike? I’ll ride your bike home!” So that is what we are doing. George flies home today, and I will cross Zimbabwe back to Mozambique. I will sort out the transport for my bike back to South Africa, and will ride on home.
We’ve covered about 1700 kms in the last three days and it is going to be a long, hard ride home. I am expecting at least seven days of very hard riding to get me to Cape Town. That pillow is going to get a lotmore very good use, and I can’t stop grinning.