Cycling in Asian and African countries, writing about it
These “rounds” or “rondavels” are a common sight in the Eastern Cape, and if you get to peek inside, you may see a bed, a tv-watching area, beer drinking or a hen keeping her eggs warm
How my thoughts developed when I got a little more curious about the names in South Africa, as I put faces to more of them (1,300 words). Continue reading
Our first wild camping spot after six months without was hidden in plain sight, this stand of trees behind Evan, near the highway. Mozambique.
Getting back in the bush in Mozambique and Swaziland, and getting kind of used to it (1,400 words). Continue reading
Measuring a heaping portion for my first cup, in southern Mozambique
The meaning behind our mornings (1,200 words). Continue reading
I capture our short-lived excitement for the novelty of hitchhiking in the rain.
We caught a ride with a truck on our first day cycling south from Zambia into northern Zimbabwe. The why and how, here (1,500 words).
A mural advertising soya pieces in northern Malawi.
A story about our experiences with soya in Malawi, Zambia and Zimbabwe, and why we love this food in a different way than the people we met there (1,800 words).
Walking around Maputo one must look both down and up. Down at things to avoid on the damaged sidewalks, up at the mix of styles and colours of the tall buildings.
Me: “Meh, Maputo” Maputo: “Whatever.” Me: “Never want to leave!” Maputo: “Whatever.” (1,100 words).
There are many reasons to kept wild areas unfenced, like allowing the animals to migrate as they please. This also means they can cross the road at the wrong time.
I explain why and how I’m updating my expectations of cycling in—and around—parks and reserves throughout East Africa (2,400 words). Continue reading
We used Uganda’s delicious chapatis for breakfast, lunch and dinner
When “Uganda” and “food” are put together in a sentence, it’s usually to talk about green bananas or rolex. I share fond memories of other Ugandan starches that filled me up while we cycled through (1,900 words). Continue reading
A park’s caretaker, far right, approaches to find out why we are trying to break into a yurt near Osh, Krygyzstan
Generally I narrate my life story back to myself with me as a protagonist. But if everyone’s doing that, the people we meet on the road may cast me as the idiot, the callous foreigner, the terror. They might even have good reasons to do so (1,400 words). Continue reading
Evan and I prepare to part ways with Timothy and Au Hei, as we stay in Kyrgyzstan and they head for Tajikistan. We stayed together in Osh Guesthouse for a few days.
Other people travelling by bicycle that I’ve been lucky to meet over the last few years. Continue reading