Just bumped into...

1992 Olympic steeplechase champion Matthew Birir (as you do) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matthew_Birir.
Our sandwich stop one day happened to be outside his house. He's now a farmer
like most of the people in the famous Kip area of Kenyan Kalenjin country (unless they're athletes of course). Kenyans seem to be an unbelievably modest, matter-of-fact bunch and it was clear that this guy is no exception as he re-lived his incredible days traveling over the world as an athlete. The conversation started something like: 'Where are you from?... 'Oh you're from the UK? I used to live there...' (Where abouts?) 'Oh Crystal Palace' (Oh right, what were you doing there?) "I was involved in athletics' (as a coach?) 'No I was an athlete...' etc etc

I asked him what he did with his gold medal. He said he kept it in his house there, adding the immortal line without mirth, 'but it's perfectly safe. Kenyans don't value gold. They're only interested in cows.'

Later in the day we met a few more Kenyan internationals (hanging about, driving motorbike taxis etc etc) but the highlight was cycling past Kipsaus school where about 100 primary age boys and girls ran down the road alongside us up and down hills for up to 5km. Not a bead of sweat or panted breath - completely carefree and joyful, running just for no reason other than it was fun. Seemingly running without a ball to chase is fun to some people.

The downside of meeting all these damn fit kips is that this it is the only place so far where people are utterly unimpressed that we're cycling 2,000km.

Andy

Dangerous birthday cake

Three men from the opposition youth movement have been arrested in Kampala for presenting the president of Uganda with a birthday cake for his '73rd' birthday... Some serious sensitivities about age (officially he's a sprightly 67).
Lucy

Pics

Stunning images of attractive lycra-clad sporty/bumbling cyclists will follow by the way..
Lucy


Andy

Thankyou..

... to Laura, Jeremy and Alistair for putting us up and showing us such fantastic hospitality despite the fact you didn't know us and we were several days late.. and filthy.. and too tired to speak..
From Nandi to Kibigori was a whooshing great downhill stretch complete with hairpin bends and one or two huge potholes. Breathtaking ride through the terraced green fields then a sharp right through flat ground overhanging with sugarcane twice my height. The landscape is so varied over such a short distance.
On our right is a huge ridge. We're told later by Rob - the geologist at the gold
mine - that this is in fact a mini rift valley running off the Great one formed billions of years ago. We go on a stunning adventure to see colobus monkeys with Alistair and Laura and then test claustrophobia to the max with a trip down the gold mine. It's fascinating, painstaking work that bears no relation to the panning of the Wild West. Concise geological mapping of a reef or seam of quartz (formed billions of years ago when liquid rushed in to fill gaps left by the shifting plates). Precise explosions. Grinding and then chemical treatment. Interesting to see where things actually come from. I didn't even freak out.
Lucy

ps note Indiana Jones - stylee wagon chasing Lucy down the mine

Vaseline

Some great friends and relatives insisted we bring Vaseline. Thank you. By day three everything's hurting and the chafing has begun. We're told the back road to Nandi Hills is smooth tarmac. It's actually mud and rock and boulders and it's very steep. I take my first involuntary dismount remarkably well... and finally agree to get back on. The morning is cold, hazy and damp. The landscape is made up of steep escarpments and lush green fields full of maize that look like benign triffids. We take in spectacular views, our first puncture, a short piece of terrifying highway and then the lush green tea fields surrounding Nandi Hills. The clue to the incline is in the name. Stunning. We stop for lunch after 82km and decide to call it a day.


Lovely cup of chai.

It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive...

It's a saying I love but in certain circumstances it's difficult to appreciate. Day two rolls like spaghetti hoops, soaring downhill, punishing uphill. All too steep. Stunning but slow. I expend a lot of energy coming up with more and more ingenious reasons for stopping (you'd be surprised how many there are). At each stop we are greeted by friendly and over-excited children. At one such top-of-hill-stop we meet an Olympic gold athlete (more from Andy on that one). It turns out we're cycling through marathon country where the children run to school at high altitude, over an incredibly hilly landscape - producing the world's top runners. Suffice to say we only make it about 50km before pulling in to a tiny village called Kamwosor. We stay in the local truck stop (quite literally) run by the lovely Joanne and eat the most amazing chapattis in the world in the least salubrious cafe. Great chat though.

African saddle sores...

It started so smoothly. As the sun came up we rolled out of the farm near Menengai and floated downhill through the misty morning. There was barely a car in sight. Crossed all the way into the Northern Hemisphere. Could this really be so easy? Luke's route to Eldama Ravine really did seem quite remarkable. After 25km of sheer joy we started on the reality of 25km of sheer uphill. Luke's popularity plummeted. At the Mission we were met by wonderfully kind people and some exuberant cows. One of which slobbered all over my stuff. Day One complete. Not even saddle sore but unable to speak.

Lucy