Continental Round-Up

So after four solid days and zero solid stools aboard Mozambiques finest roadworthy buses I have finally arrived home. South Africa's dual carriageways opened up in front of my eyes like the Red Sea. Goat numbers dwindled and road rage quadrupled as Joburg's rutted skyline came into view. Ponte's neon lights have never looked sweeter. And South Africa has never seemed more developed.

Reflecting back on the last nine months I suppose the only universal truth about Africa is that there are no universal truths. Every country had some amazing people and every country had some royal turds. But in general the people were great. Some countries are on the brink of economic explosion, like Mozambique while others are on the edge of ruin, like Mauritania. But in general it seemed the economies were on the up. Some countries have remained politically stable, like Senegal, others have crumbled into anarchy, like Mali and in others, no one actually has a clue whats happening. Like Ethiopia. But in general there seems to be trend towards stability. So for all the negative press out there of wars, famine and disease it seems to me that the future is not all skinny children with flies on their faces.

Here are some of the stats:

Final Mileage: 26,607kms

Money raised to date for the Key School: R43,500

Countries visited: 14 (Morocco, Mauritania, Senegal, Mali, Burkina Faso, Ghana, Ethiopia, Kenya,      Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Tanzania, Mozambique, South Africa)

Modes of transport used: 16 (train, bus, minibus, truck, scooter, car, donkey, horse, cattle, camel, pirogue, ferry, dhow, speedboat, steamboat, feet)

No. times sunburned: >30

No. long drops used: >200;  Successfully: 4

Longest beard hair: 13cm

Couchsurfing success rate: 4%

Illnesses: 8 (food poisoning X 1, dysentery X1, tummy bug X5, flu X2, ringworm X9 months)

Items stolen: 0

Bribes paid: 0



And some quick awards...

Favourite country: Ethiopia

Least favourite country: Ethiopia

Most Forgettable Country: Burkina Faso

Most Hirsute Country: Mauritania

Best Food: Morocco

Worst Food: Ghana

Most People Fitted into Standard Minibus: 41 (Southern Tanzania)

Country Most Likely to Get Drafted into Religious Cult: Ghana

Country with Most Overzealous Imams: Senegal

Best Beer: Primus (Rwanda)

Worst Beer: Everything in Tanzania

Best Moment: Summiting Mountains of the Moon in the midst of a blizzard

Worst Moment: Summiting Mount Kenya in the midst of David Cloetes foreskin

Country Most Want to Return To: Mali

Country Least Likely to Return To in This Lifetime: Mali


And finally just a quick word on the funds we raised for the Key School for Autism. The Key School has had a tough year. Many of their sponsors didn't pull through for them and they have been fighting to stay afloat for most of 2012. Their future is uncertain at this stage, however, the money that many people so kindly donated has gone a long way in ensuring that their doors have stayed open in 2012. So a massive thank you to everyone who gave of themselves for this very worthy institution! All we can do now is hold thumbs for them.

So thats it from me - Ive had a lot of fun writing this blog so another thank you for taking the time to read it. Its nice to know its not just my mother who has been checking in on me. Its quite sad its all come to an end. But its very nice to be sleeping in a bed again. And having hot showers.

On Ancient Winds

"Things have not got off to a good start." This was the thought going through my mind as I lay huddled in a cement storage room - a table barricading the door from the Friday-night bedlam outside. Weekends, it seems, are jovial in ports worldwide. Even in the sleepy town of Palma in far northern Mozambique. I was lying and waiting for the winds to die down and the tide to come up so we could launch our dhow for the voyage through the Quirimbas archipelago to Ibo Island, 250kms south. And mother nature - that crafty old wench - just wasnt playing ball. At 3am conditions at sea were more favourable and in the port were less combative, so I met my crew. I didn't know whether to be terrified or enthused by the fact that our Captain, Seriji, had clearly spent too much time at sea. He talked to himself, wore a zebra skin cowboy hat night and day and insisted on taking his pants off for every launch. This first one was no exception. So with the moonlight glistening off Captain Seriji's bulbous scrotum, we raised anchor and were off.

There was the creaking of the mast. The flap of the canvas sail. The gentle keel of the deck. The musty odour of damp wood. The same has been experienced by thousands of sailors over a millenium on this coast. The dhow design hasn't changed. The means to sail them hasn't changed. The only things that have apparently changed are the cargoes and the crews. The cargo: now instead of awealthy Eastern merchant and his Chinese porcelain they carry a pastey white man and his beard. The crew: instead of a team born and raised as one with the ocean, they have Captain Seriji - unable to catch so much as a sardine in the most abundant waters on the planet. And still attempting to do so with his trousers off.

Over turquoise waters. Over pristine reefs. Through mazes of mangroves. Through bouncing shoals of flying fish. Through phosphorescense sparking around the dhow like flint. To the Swahili fishing village with the worlds hottest peri-peri. To jack-russell-sized coconut crabs. To fishing ports soaking in the crustiest of sailors. To deserted beaches. To deserted five-star resorts. To city-sized coconut groves. To horizons serrated by a hundred sails.

The dhow was the link between all these things. It, and Captain Seriji's animated conversations with himself. Mine were just a few of the infinite experiences carried on those ancient trade winds and in those ancient dhows. None-the-less mine felt pretty unique. I'm pretty sure I ate less fish. And had a lot more full-frontal nudity.