Women as heifers..

While sitting in a nearby, natural "hot spring" in Uganda (picture a very busy steaming swamp full of smiling semi-naked people) a very friendly chap just asked the husband, (while staring at my bikini-ed boobs) : "Does she produce?"
To which Andy responded: "Not yet." Nice.

The Source of the Nile

Speke reached the source of the Nile all-right, but he didn't know it, AND he went and died in the process. What's the point of that?

We reached it and we knew about it. The damn fool should have cycled. But we did almost die as well. Firstly on the mental road to Jinja (more on that later maybe) and secondly nearly drowning in the rapids.

Great beer and food though.

Andy

Random stuff to the border

After raiding the Gold Mine, we spent our ill-gotten gains on some well-earned pizza in Kisumu, followed by a trip to a Congolese music bar.

This was our first glimpse of the mighty Lake Vicky. It's more like looking out to sea - despite this being a narrow section it's just water as far as the eye can goosy-gander. Getting closer took something away from the majesty of it. Although there were some nice waterfront restaurants selling local food and drinks, it's clear that the best days of the Kisumu riviera are past. Trucks, motorbikes and cars all congregate in the evening to clean out their filth into the lake alongside boat operators trying to attract tourists for hippo trips. This takes place opposite a huge factory which we're told just dumps its waste into the lake. Pretty sad for those trying to eke a living from the tourists here.


HOWEVER, we did get incredibly close to hippos. While sipping a local brew, 4 of them came within 20m of the cafe.

At our noisy hotel we bumped into some nice Americans who invited us to the orphanage they're volunteering at. Really interesting to chat with them and especially to listen to some of the same working issues we faced in Ghana.



Trip to the local museum revealed some interesting stuff about the Luo tribes, but the highlights were the phut phut ride there, dangerous but recently fed snakes and massive Seychelles tortoise. 125yrs old, 140kgs allegedly. Looked about right.

Then off the border.

rossed the equator for the third time. But Lucy was too grumpy to stop for a photo with me.

We had a great 50km ride across the border with lovely local Peter who travels weekly into Uganda to collect cheaper foods to sell and for his family. Busia is a classic border town, all hussle and bussle, traders, money changers and dodgers hanging around. Quick meal of Ugali and nice green stuff with goat stuff and Peter accompanied us into Uganda.





The border is totally open so no queues and people just walking back and forward, except for the whites who must pay $50 for the privilege.

I guess it's similar to most African borders. Language, culture, architecture, everything just the same on the other side. Mainly because some numbskull has probably just taken a ruler through traditional tribal lands. The only difference was the profusion of bicycle (boda boda) taxis and President Museveni posters...

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