Crossing Southern Africa

Crossing Southern Africa

Saturday, April 18, 2009


Dear Friends

I feel sorry. My little princess and me are about to split up in few days, and even more, we have had our first lover´s fight. She asked me “Am I fat?” and I said “Of course not”. As you all know, that is a dangerous question coming from a woman and never could be answered without a fight. But let me tell you the whole story. We were in the best part of our relationship. Namibia is a real paradise. Beautiful landscapes, smooth gravel roads, friendly people, shining deserts, great sunsets, stars by thousands at night…As you can see, we even took a romantic picture on the Namib Desert just before arrive Skeleton Coast.

Skeleton Coast. Dammed name for ever! From the Indic at Dar es Salaam, I was expecting to meet the Atlantic there. It will mean I crossed the whole continent from coast to coast. From Korishas, I rode 179 km on a sandy road just to arrive to the Skeleton Coast National Park. But 45 km far from the sea (I even could see the Atlantic blue in my GPS), is a gate with guards. “No motorcycles allowed”, they told me. “It´s impossible”, I said really annoyed. “I´ve been suffering 8000 km and 7 countries just to see here the sea and ride your Fxxxng Skeleton Cost.” No way. “The rules are clear and well written” they said. It was true. I tried then the bribe. “Maybe if you help me…” No corruption in Namibia. “Ok”, I told them. “It´s been a very long trip and I´m gonna stay here with my tent camp until you let me in, or someone else pick up us to the other gate on a truck, but I will not go back”.

We slept that night at the barrier and had barbeque with the guards. At the following morning, they phone someone who phoned someone, and finally I got the permit to ride to the other gate 100 km far away. We both were so happy, but then the sand started. Sand, sand, sand. Tons of sand. Sand as in a hippy shoe. No gravel road. Just sand. Deep and deep. And I wanted to see the sea. So I cut straight to the dunes. And then the tragedy happened. The princess got blocked in the sand one, two, three times. Every time she got blocked, I had to put the luggage off and lift her by arms and back. Then she asked me “Am I fat?” I was sweating and telling bad words, so I had no mind for tenderness. “Of course not”, I said ten seconds later. Too late. She got angry and she tried to throw me out every time she could. But, I managed to ride the fuxxxng Skeleton Coast and keep us safe.

5 hours later, exhausted, dirty, but happy again, we arrived to Cape Cross, where are over 150.000 stinky seals on the beach. But, you all know, that is another story I´m gonna write another day.

All the best.

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