Giorgia told me that she hardly found anybody who had passed from Iringa to Arusha on this road by bicycle … now I understand … from Iringa to Dodoma the road is bad, from Dodoma it is almost impracticable, it goes from places with stones mounted on the ground to others where it seems to be on a bicycle on a white beach of Sardinia, on one of these today I found a nice little snake crossing the road, but we both were too busy with our matters to scare one another, I felt envious of his agile moving, as if he was floating on the sand while I was sinking mainly behind where there is all the weight of the panniers. This stage should have taken me at least to Kolo, I had to stop in Kondoa because of some technical inconveniences which the impassable road has made worse. I am worried because I am wasting time on this road which I will have to recover on the tar.
Tomorrow I will cross the barrier of the 2000 kilometers which is the maximum distance I have covered on my previous tours, we will see what will happen, I also have to take a day off but I will do that in Nairobi.
After not even 10 kilometers from the start the gear curled up, luckily it did not break because here the bicycles mechanics are more than in Malawi, but they are less supplied. I put it back in shape with the final help of two passersby and three Masai, but it makes a little assuring noise and, at times, it inserts the automatic gear change in Nairobi or Arusha I have to have it checked or changed. Joint cause of the problem of the gear is also the panniers which are a bit too long and the right one, on these terrains hits the gear.
While I was buying biscuits and water, my attention was caught from rhythmic screams ‘oohh oohh’ from men, similar to those of the rowers on the galleys. On the opposite side of the road, there was a rectangular open space more or less as big as a basketball court, with in the middle a small heap of a cereal, sorghum I think. Some men with some very flexible branches a couple of meters long were hitting the cereals to separate the edible part from the discard. Moving forward slowly slowly, and screaming loudly loudly ‘oohh oohh … oohh oohh’ … They wanted me to try, the method may be a bit primitive but I can assure it is very fun, some kind of rural kendo.
When I got back to the bicycle, I saw the front wheel a bit flat, I pumped it, it lasted another 5 kilometers. I remove the wire of the break, I remove the wheel of the bicycle, I remove the tire, a punctured air chamber and a very small thorn of acacia which caused the puncture. I put on a new air chamber, I put the tire back on, I pump … shit … the small jut of the air chamber which Serena bought in Italy is not compatible with my Chinese pump … I met 6 or 7 cars in 60 kilometers, there is nobody … I find a small pump bought in Lusaka which is not working … I remove the adaptor … I put it on the Chinese pump … it works! … but the Chinese pump breaks in two … and also the small jut of the air chamber breaks … it is three in the afternoon, there is nobody, I have plenty air chambers but no pump … it is hot … when it seems like a motorbike is coming up the hill … I make the gesture of a pump bending on the knees … he seems to me a musungu … he would be the first one since the off road started … no it must be albino … it really is a musungu from London with the Tanzanian partner … he has the right age to have grown up with Mc Giver … ‘You have been very lucky to meet me in this fucking place!’ … ‘in Africa nothing is fucking rubbish, keep everything with you’ … ‘why are you going to London there is a fucking crisis there’ … These are only of the ‘fucking’ sentences I remember … then he gets from a 40 liters back pack an Indian pump which functions pressing with a foot and pulling a cord … the wheel is ok … photo with the bamboo bike … and the day is over I crawl to Kondoa … there is only the time for a picture to the huge baobabs.
Haneti S 5° 48.616’ E 35° 84.708’ – Kondoa S 4° 90.381’ E 35° 77.693’
81 km