BACK ON THE ROAD!! ...The lost journey from Zambia to Cape Town & A New chapter....AUSTRALIA to ENGLAND!!

My attempt to finish my blog back home in London after breaking my computer halfway across Africa was a poor one. Having the memory of a fish and being back in a country that rains cats and dogs was never going to be the most inspiring place to start re-capturing that adventure into words again! To briefly recap, my initial journey had taken me a total of 46,000 kilometres on an old blue bicycle (The Blue Bullet) around the world. The main routes were from:

1) ASIA:

Delhi, India - Laos (including Nepal, Bangladesh, Burma, Thailand and Japan) - On leaving UK soil back in 2016 - my idea had been to cycle from Delhi to Singapore, set up a hostel and never return! After a broken foot in Laos and much thinking time, that idea changed & a new plan was hatched..... to cycle the entire globe!

2) THE AMERICAS:

Anchorage, Alaska, USA to Ushuia, Argentina (The very top of North America to the very bottom of South America)- 7 months and 27 days   

3) AFRICA:

Cairo to Cape Town (The whole length of Africa) - 3 months & 3 weeks

However! After a successfully approved second sabbatical and a flight ticket in my hand to leave for New Zealand on Wednesday (September 21st 2022) and a gigantic proposed journey ahead - pedaling back from Australia to London, England...............I guess it's time to get the show back on the road! More of the route, and the last 4 years later, first it's time to finally tell the lost journey, as much as my memory will allow, from the Tanzanian/Zambian border to Cape Town, South Africa.

Trying to accurately re-tell the whole expedition from the Zambia border to Cape Town would do it a disservice. Instead, I'll simply tell the few bits I remember from the few notes I jotted down at the time.....

As a globe-trotter, nothing brings more excitement and trepidation than a new border crossing. That is especially the case when you're on a bicycle and not prepared to take lifts. One unsuccessful border crossing can lead to a 1000-mile detour to obtain the correct paperwork from a capital city or having to re-route through a different country altogether.

"Do you have a visa?" The Zambian immigration officer asked me, As I approached a wooden box the size of a portaloo, the official Zambian border post. With more hope than confidence, I replied, "I don't, but you can buy them on the border!".

"Yes, you can" came the reponse to my sheer relief! My remote route through the jungle meant I hadn't passed a single major city in Tanzania in which to find an embassy and I had to rely on hearsay that I could buy a visa on the border. Successfully into Zambia, my plan was to head west towards Botswana and then swing a left down the South Atlantic Coast of Namibia for the home straight into South Africa.

The capital city, Lusaka, was a mere 1049 kilometres from the border. But before that, there would be a few interesting stops on the way. The first was Mbala. A small town just 40 km from Tanzania but of huge historical importance. It was here that the German forces finally surrendered at the end of the first world war. The signing of the armistice had happened 3 days earlier on 11th November 1918, though it had taken 3 days for the German general Von Lettow-Vorbeck to receive the telegraph...and let everyone know!

That evening I treated myself to a campsite. A rarity in Africa and a little treat for another successful border crossing. Lake Chila Lodge campsite was owned by a much respected local entrepreneur called Geoffrey Chilla. He had worked his way up from a cleaner in a hotel to the proud owner of 2 lodges. I asked Geoffrey if I could swim in the Lake, he looked at me like I was bonkers (the 20-degree water temperature was far too cold for any local African to take a dip!) Either way, he assured me the lake was Crocodile free and in I went. The coolish water working its wonders on my hammered cycling legs.

After my swim, Geoffrey went on to explain that the bottom of the Lake was littered with thousands of World War 1 German Artillery. This was the spot where the Germans had been forced to dispose of their weapons. It was a strange feeling to think I was swimming on top of WW1 killing machines dumped some 100 years ago. How different my experience of that lake in 2018 must have been compared to the German Infantry of 1918.

My next port of call would be Shiwa Ngandu. An English-style country house in the middle of Africa, not far from the town of Mpika. The house, known as "Shiwa House", was the lifelong project of an English aristocrat known as Sir Stuart Gore-Browne, who had fallen in love with the country after working on the Anglo-Belgian Boundary commission. I've always loved eccentric people (and old houses for that matter) and this bloke must have been up there with the best. He was clearly completely bonkers and I had to see his house in the flesh! Apparently Mr Brown had wanted an estate like his rich aunts in Weybridge though couldn't afford one in England, so decided to build one right there in Africa.

Construction began in 1920, the only problem was that his chosen site was 400 miles from the nearest railhead and there were no roads!! Consequently, he had to employ hundreds of labourers to make their way 400 miles over rivers and swamps and build a road before he could even start the build. The bricks then had to be made on-site. On his death in 1967, he remains the only white man to have ever been given a state funeral. He must have been quite a man. Needless to say, my visit to his crumbling British mansion set in the African wilderness did not disappoint. In fact, there was nobody at the house when I arrived, I found an open door...and had the place to myself. I hope you didn't mind Mr Brown!

My notes from this point on are even scarcer... though after staying on a farm with a family of White Zambians I met on the road, I took a b-line in the direction of Botswana. Cutting diagonally across the country with some big days in the saddle I eventually hit the nation's capital, Lusaka. It was definitely no New York City but had a collection of big shiny buildings, no doubt built by the Chinese. It was a good chance to stock up on supplies before heading for my last town in Zambia, Livingstone, home of the incredible Victoria falls. Africa's largest waterfall  (1708 metres wide) was discovered in 1855 by the Scottish missionary David Livingstone, who named it after Queen Victoria - though I'm sure the Africans must have known about it before, you couldn't miss the thing! Anyway, at the time of my visit, it was so powerful that up close you got soaked and couldn't see a thing due to the massive amount of mist pumping off! Though from a distance, you could definitely appreciate the magnitude of the beast!

After crossing into Botswana, I found myself on a remote road with no towns and villages for miles. It was somewhere on this road, after the spectacular sight of a giraffe running across the open road just in front of me, that night fell and I found myself equidistant between 2 huge national parks. When I say national parks, I don't mean places with picnic tables...but an empty road cutting through huge expanses of African wilderness littered with predators... including large cats! I clearly wasn't going to get out of here by nightfall and with zero passing traffic came to the sudden realisation that the pedaling panther would be a very tempting meal that night.

I kept pedaling in hope of some sort of lifeline, acutely aware that nightfall was when the big cats came out to feed! Then, in the distance to the right of the roadside, I could see a huge red and white satellite tower. At the very least I could climb it and hang out up there all night - better a night without sleep than eaten in my tent alive I thought! As I neared the structure things got better still! It had a chain link fence around the bottom of it...I climbed inside and immediately started climbing the structure to take in the spectacular view.....looking down at my surroundings with a huge smile on my face, all fear vanished from within me. I took no chances and pitched my tent on the lower part of the structure, as I remember, it was a peaceful night's sleep!

My only other significant memory from Botswana was of camping next to someone's house and being offered a prayer by the village elder. I'm not particularly religious, other than when I'm camping in the African Bush! Though this prayer was the work of God. I struggled to keep my eyes closed as the elderly man and his lady friend let out a series of high pitch screams, squeals and other Hyena-type sounds!! 

Namibia, my penultimate African country was a very different-looking Africa. Incredibly dry and arid, the Namib desert stretching along its Atlantic ocean, had a feeling of being almost non-African with its alien-looking landscape and clean and efficient-looking towns and cities. I was not surprised to discover the Germans colonisers had something to do with it! I visited its impressive capital, Windhoek, 1700 metres above sea level on the Khomas plateau, before the very German-sounding town of Swakopmund on the Skeleton Atlantic coast. It was here I intended to celebrate my 36th Birthday....May 14th 2018.

(Windhoek)

A lot of my friends ask me the leading question..."you must meet loads of chicks on the road!??" Yes, you undeniably get a good amount of kudos for cycling continents. And there is no better compliment for your ego, than reaching a hostel in a major world city and walking in like Clint Eastwood with a bike over your shoulder. Especially when some peacocking Australian male backpacker is mid-story about being the only backpacker on the bus! "Bus did you say?!" Or commenting to a preacher like a dreaded hippy that their bus travels are bad for the environment - to which of course there is no comeback!

However! believe it or not, you don't stroll across many single attractive women in the middle of Africa, Bangladesh, or on top of the Andes mountain for that matter! Doing 100+ mile days on a bike smelling like a treadmill towel, your often just passing through places.....and women certainly don't often come knocking on your tent door at night either! This can be a problem, especially given the well-known fact that huge exercise overload puts your endorphins.... and therefore libido to stratospheric levels! On top of that, I wasn't sure that Africa was the place for a bit of relief! The HIV rate in Swaziland for example was a staggering 26%!

I did however, whilst treating myself to a glass of wine or 2 on my 36th birthday in a hotel bar in Swakopmund, decide to fire up the old Tinder. Swiping left and right I soon got chatting to a girl who claimed to be a news anchor, thoroughbred I thought! After a bit of persuasion, I convinced her to join me for some drinks in the hotel bar. It was an interesting chat, especially when I discovered that she was the sister of the first lady of Namibia!! - with the evidence to back the claim. Shame I wasn't in England, then again, even if Lizz Truss had a sister I'm not sure the tabloids would have paid much for the story! Anyway, as the drinks flowed and the evening progressed I found myself being escorted out of the hotel bar for my kissing antics in the female toilet. Class! With everywhere closed we ended up on a bench overlooking the Atlantic, right outside her parent's beach house (not your normal African family).

As the temperature plummeted we decided to continue the adventure in her parent's house. Unfortunately, she had lost the key to the gate and was understandably too scared to knock on the door and wake her parents. Which parent would agree a stranger coming into your home to visit your daughter at midnight!? We decided it would be wiser to climb over the gate. As she drunkenly climbed the wooden gate it not surprisingly broke, generating a sound that woke her father! He went ballistic! I decided it was better to scarper. We arranged to meet the following day instead. Arriving at her property I knocked on the door to find a stranger opening it. At least I thought it was a stranger until the girl started talking to me like she knew me. The wig!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  (and make-up) had been removed and I simply didn't recognise her....or find her attractive anymore! I stayed for a coffee and made a speedy exit!

Back on the road, Cape Town felt as though it was in sight. I followed the main road tracking a train line heading due south, waving at train drivers as I went. Crossing into South Africa things felt very different to the rest of Africa. For the first time, I witnessed intimidating groups of young men and the obvious use of narcotics. The innocence and friendliness of the other nations I had cycled through seemed to have been lost. Maybe the wealth divide there had caused that to occur. It felt ironic, as for most people South Africa is the only African country they see as being safe to travel! Though overall, it was a spectacular country and I met many incredible people there. I will simply repeat my social media post from my arrival in Cape Town on 25th May 2018 to conclude, I don't think it leaves anything else to say.

END OF THE ROAD! 46,468 kilometres riding my bicycle around the world 🌍has just finished here at the bottom of Africa, Cape Town, 3 months and 3 weeks to the day after leaving Cairo, 7673 miles ago. NORTH AND SOUTH AMERICA, and AFRICA top to bottom and ASIA (Delhi to Laos and Japan). It's been the best journey of my life and I have no regrets! There is no better way to see the world than on a bicycle! It has taken me from below minus 10 in Alaska camping by the roadside with bears to melting at plus 50 in the world's hottest 🏜 deserts. From the roof of the world at Mt Everest in Nepal to the incredible Mt Fuji in Japan to the glaciers of Patagonia and rainforests of Central America to the beautiful coastlines of the world's greatest oceans.

It's not all been plain sailing, and pushing out 100+miles day after day can make you go a little mad.... but the crazy times have been the best stories! Since leaving Delhi I've had police escorts clearing the road with machine guns like I was King in Bangladesh 🇧🇩 , cycled past giraffes and elephants in Botswana, been stoned in Ethiopia, stayed in peoples homes more times than I can remember.. Including a one old eyed mexican man who got a bit carried away in the middle of the night!.. I've been dragged into a backstreet hospital in India by a drunk doctor and made to watch a gallbladder being pulled out, slept in mud huts in Sudan, cycled past the great pyramids of Egypt, ran over a cat in 🇵🇦 Panama which jammed in my wheel and threw me over the handlebars, broke my foot in Laos, bought a classic car in California - the green machine, been on TV in Chile and left lieing on a deserted beach half paralysed in Mexico screaming out loud thinking I was going to die after being stung by a stingray!.. But I wouldn't change any of it.. Well.. Maybe the old man bit!
The world over, rich and poor people have been incredibly good to me..and there are definitely more good people in the world than bad!.... If you want to do a similar trip, I have a bike for sale.. One careful owner.. Low mileage :-) ☓

                THE END!............ well, halfway maybe!

Going back to England after 18 months on the road was never going to be easy! Firstly, after 18 months of continuous cycling, I could no longer run! Even jogging was immensely painful. I guess my muscles had been conditioned only to cycle, it was a bit worrying at first but eventually improved. Whilst back at the Old Kent Road fire station, My new manager was trying to ram the new health and safety book down my neck! After being chased by tribes with spears and having rocks thrown at me in Ethiopia I frankly didn't give a rat's arse about wearing a life jacket and harness in 2 inches of water! Getting the hump and thinking my next immature provocative move would get me fired, I immediately decided to apply for another sabbatical to commence the following year. That didn't happen!

Little did I, or the rest of the world know that someone in a city called Wuhan, China was about to bite the head off a bat and slam the entire world into a pandemic. The NHS were in a whole load of shit (and I was about to be too - literally!) and in response asked the Fire Brigade for volunteers to drive Ambulances to assist the paramedics.......or wrap up and collect dead C-19 bodies. The latter to my amazement received the most volunteers - morbid firefighters!

Me and my friend Bat were the first to volunteer from the Old Kent Road and went off to Wembley football stadium for our induction, uniform and to get partnered with a Paramedic. It was a grand event with a big photo session on the pitch, a chance for the Fire Brigade to win some good PR ....and for the firefighters to boost their egos with some heroic social media posts. You would have thought they were the chosen few boldy entering Japan's Fukushima Nuclear power plant to save the day following the 2011 nuclear meltdown - at the risk of certain cancer!

There had been numerous rumours that a lot of the Paramedics were hot Australian women and Batty had begun bragging to everyone at the station that he would be getting one. After being partnered with a tall good looking 23-year-old Ozzy girl and seeing Batty with a fat know it all middle-aged English bloke, with a million stories about himself, I was pretty pleased with the way things were going so far.

My posting was Westminster Ambulance station, a gem of a station tucked away on a quiet road in Pimlico.  I rocked up on my first day keen as mustard......with my sleeping bag under my arm, to the amusement of all the ambulance staff! I wasn't hopeful for a fire brigade night shift but thought it would help to get some shut-eye between calls. If they thought my sleeping bag was funny, you should have seen their faces when the infamous Mick Measham walked through the door moments later with a full mattress! I had to admit it, he'd done me there!

Batty, Nicole & me

Before working with Nicole, my first shift was spent getting to know the ropes with 2 experienced hands. My first call was to an old man in his 90s, a former city broker still wearing his shirt and braces. Anyway, he'd shat himself, badly. We were tasked to get him off the floor. As we lifted him up he kept calling me "young man!" whilst gesturing a camp hand signal to me. "Welcome to the LAS" I thought! The next 6 months were wildly entertaining. In the early days of the pandemic, we raced around abandoned central London streets and stopped at the city's top hotels for free grub (they had dedicated themselves to feeding the Ambulance service and I wasn't objecting). I couldn't stop chuckling to myself as people saluted and applauded from the streets as I drove past - if only they knew Dr Panther's level of first aid they would have ran a mile!! Things got serious at times and pumping away on a man's chest in cardiac arrest and picking up vomiting heroin addicts was no easy task. Full credit to Nicole, she was twice the man I am. After 6 months I'd burnt out already and threw the towel in.

The rest of those 4 years were spent trying to escape the Lockdown, taking my chances on the property market and a couple of big rides on a yellow tandem. Driving down to Cornwall on my 4 days off was not received well by the grumpy Cornish locals. My rusty van did not blend in and could be spotted a mile away. Every time I tried to camp they would follow me and threaten to call the police! With winter approaching and another lockdown on the verge of being announced, I booked a few weeks of work, headed for the port and made the great escape to Sicily. Remarkably, my rusty brown 1981 camper made it 99.99% of the way, breaking down 100 metres from the campsite I was heading for on the edge of Palermo. The old people from the village had to push me in and I pleaded with the campsite owner, Pasquale, to let me store her there. I was due back at work and said I would fly back in a couple of weeks to pick her up. To cut a long story short, 2 weeks became over a year as Italy was thrown into long-term travel lockdowns.  I eventually picked her up (after having to fly to Malta, take a boat then cycle across Sicily to the campsite!). Finding her covered in moss and leaves, God knows how she started, never mind drive all the way back to London! Though that was little compensation given that my annual storage fees totalled more than the value of the camper!

Sicily.....shortly before breaking down

In terms of cycling, which getting back to the point is what this blog is supposed to be about! I did 2 very memorable tandem trips with a fantastic girl I met called Daz. They deserve a blog of their own. One was London to Italy, crossing the Swiss Alps, which, if you've never ridden a tandem and want a decent way of decreasing your sperm count, is a good way of going about it! Tandem cycling seems to have gone out of fashion the last few decades, I don't know why. It's a brilliant way to travel, you can both talk (unlike 2 solo bikes), go fast on the flats and you entertain everyone you pass. However! On the downside - uphill is excruciating - you're stuck in the saddle and can't stand up, and if you're a bloke with a set of balls, you can expect them to be clamped to the saddle for hours at a time! 

The other journey was The USA coast to coast. The moment the states finally opened their doors after Covid we booked a flight to Los Angeles and cycled the 3000 miles to San Augustine, Florida in 35 days. Crossing the States truly defines "coast to coast", Pacific to Atlantic. Daz is fit as a fiddle and was sensational. I just had to steer. One funny moment I must mention from that trip happened when we arrived in Palm Springs. We were pedaling through the town centre, on a road with a sign which instructed motorist's to "watch out for cyclists". Despite this plea to show a bit of respect for those saving the planet on 2 wheels, an old man screamed past us narrowly missing us, shouting, "get out the road you fucking cock sucker!!" Both shocked and slightly amused I couldn't let this pass and laughed out as load as I possible could to try and antagonise the grumpy idiot!. His response, more shocking still, was to slam his car into reverse and back up the 2 -lane dual carriage way directly at us! We had to jump onto the pavement! The US was one of the most friendly nations I've cycled, this was a little reminder that you can meet idiots anywhere!

That will do for now! Flying to New Zealand in 3 days time. Time for one final trip of a lifetime to complete the continents of the world on a bicycle! 

Pedalingpanther @40!