Home » Sudan » Khartoum to Addis Ababa (7 April 2002)

"Apologies for my failure to think of a suitably cheesy yet inspirational opening quote. Can you help?" �<br/> Alastair Humphreys<br/>
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Sudan continued: Khartoum to Ethiopia. March.

Khartoum to Addis Ababa (7 April 2002)

Roundtheworldbybike
2005-11-18 10:59:12

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It is hot; my head pounds and my thermometer has a fit, races off the top of the scale (50°C) and refuses to come back down. As I cycle my face is fixed in a grimace (a combination of pain, heat, misery and genetic ugliness). Exposed to the air my teeth become painfully hot. The ground is too hot to sit on, my handlebars almost too hot to hold, the water in my drinking bottle better suited for brewing tea than quenching thirst. But I must go on: I have a rendezvous with a friend in some dilapidated Ethiopian town. It is a race against time. I pause for food at sunset at a truckers� stop. Perhaps it was the heat but the conversation seemed rather surreal: �what tribe are you from?� �ermm� Yorkshire, I guess�, then a complicated discussion about why farmers in England do not use camels.

Oh dear, the tears are back. I am pushing hard to meet Rob on time; on the road an hour before first light, riding right through the midday inferno (mad dogs etc?) and on well into the night. There are too many hours available for wandering thoughts� The road is so hard, so long, so quiet and the sky is too big and empty for just one person. But this latest episode of histrionics and soul searching runs deeper than last time [see Syria: �My Life really is a Roller coaster�]. I really am in trouble this time. I began this whole ridiculous affair because I wanted a challenge that I would fail unless I really, really worked hard at it. But now I know that I can cycle over huge mountains or across deserts. I know that I can cope alone in strange countries and situations. I know that I can do it. The problem now is that I no longer know whether I want to keep doing it. I am bored. I find myself thinking �not another massive mountain to sweat and curse my way over. Not another 1000 km of road before my next ice-cream.�

So I weep my way through a few hundred kilometres of emptiness. At least it passes the time. And keeps my eyeballs cool. ...