The first time I came to Africa it was really in Nairobi, I then passed by here many times throughout the years, but entering on a bicycle at the time when the factories aloes, finding myself immerged in traffic, overtaking hundreds of cars and trucks victims of roundabout and traffic lights, has a particular effect. I remembered the time spent stuck in traffic jams on the beltway in my previous life. I think that it will be difficult for me to feel again the same benevolent sensation towards traffic I felt yesterday!
After 21 days on the bicycle, more than 2300 km covered, here I am going up and down to the Embassies with a taxi in the middle of traffic. The first Embassy I saw is the Ethiopian, I already have a visa but I wanted to anticipate the entry date, but a zealous officer tattooed with a Coptic cross on the forehead and many others around the neck, she declined all my requests. We will see what will happen in Moyale, us too are a bit guilty we had a month to fix it but we arrived to the last day. The second is the Sudanese, a name which scares excessively the mothers of the international cooperation workers, I fill in writing from right to left the forms for the visa application written in Arab and English. I present my application at 10,30 and at 14,30 I have the vice nice and stuck to my passport.
Yesterday Serena, President and co-founder with me of Sport2build, stopped over here before reaching Lusaka, with some cereal bars and a … new gear … hopefully it will not end up like the others … I took the opportunity to change the songs I have on the IPod because by now I know all of them by heart … and I understood songs in English which I never understood very well … even the R&B slang!
As I had been anticipated by others Africa crossers, in those occasional meetings when sweaty and exhausted you ask each other everything and you give everything, … ‘How is Zambia?’ … ‘Which road did you take in Tanzania?’ … ‘Where did you sleep yesterday?’ … ‘Bye have a safe journey!’ … ‘Good luck!’ … probably I will not be allowed to cycle from Isiolo to Moyale, a very beautiful area but infested by bandits, Somalis say the most, but there is a bit of everything.
Tomorrow I will cycle with David Kinjah, and some other Kenyan cyclists. David has a history as a professional on mountain bikes in Italy and other than being an excellent mechanic, he founded a NGO which through cycling removes children from the streets.