Möhringen, Duitsland

Goeie naand!

Ek het vanoggend besluit om nie die KLR vol te maak nie. Dis nou tyd om te kyk hoe ver ek op 'n tenk brandstof kan kom. Vannaand staan die afstand reeds op 403 km. Sal binne die volgende 20 - 30 km volmaak. Ek glo ek sou 500 km kon haal.

Vanaf Pfronten tot by Möhringen het ek net klein paadjies gery. Dit was werklik lekker. Die dorpies het vinnig opmekaar gevolg en soms was die woud so dig dat mens skaars die bewolkte hemel bo jou kon sien.

Ek kuier nou by vriende, Anne en Archie Rebstock. Anne het in Ethiopie kom kuier. Die weersiens is daarom ekstra spesiaal. Ons het 'n kers in nog 'n kerk gaan aansteek. Vir die hele duur van my toer het sy elke week vir my daar 'n kers gaan aansteek.

Terwyl ons daar was, het 'n verwoedelike haelbui uitgesak. Dit het soos 'n wintertoneel met sneeu gelyk. Gelukkig was die KLR onder dak ...

Ek het nog iets beleef wat my totaal stil gemaak het. 'n Vriend van Anne en Archie het vir my 'n lied komponeer! Toe ek hier kom, met my vuil ryklere aan, moes ek eers gaan sit om na die lied te luister. Dit was werklik besonders! Baie dankie Michael Wissussek! Ek ken jou nie maar jou musiek is wonderlik!

Ek gaan Maandag die lied op die internet sit. Gaan luister gerus daarna.

Geniet die naweek, en kyk spesiaal Sondagaand na die dagboek.

Groete


Good evening!

I decided not to fill up the KLR this morning. I wanted to see how many km's I could do on the KLR. The tacho reads 403 km this evening. I will fill up within the next 30 - 40 km. I believe I could do 500 km on this tank.

I used only small (secondary) roads from Pfronten to Möhringen. It was an exciting ride. The villages were quite close to each other, and quite often the forest was so dense that one couldn't see the heaven, covered with thick rain clouds, above.

I am visiting two old friends of mine, Anne and Archie Rebstock. Anne came to visit me in Ethiopia. First we had to go to their church where we lit a candle. For the duration of my trip every week she lit a candle for me there.

While we were there a heavy hail storm crossed the area. It looked like a winter scene: Everything was white. Fortunately the KLR was not standing outside.

Again I experienced something that made me dumb struck. A friend of Anne and Archie, Michael Wissussek, composed a song specially for me. Michael, I don't know you, but thank you so much! I do appreciate it!

I love the music of the song.I will upload it on Monday. Make and effort and listen to that.

Enjoy your weekend. Don't forget to take a look at the blog on Sunday night!

Ek wil dit met julle deel

More!

Van Emil het ek die volgende link gekry.

Lodie! Baie geluk! Volg jou reis daagliks. Inspirasie! Vandag gr. sewes vertel van jou reis & op wêreldkaart aangedui. Vir party - ondenkbaardat iemand dit sou wou doen. Ek & jy-ook ander ontluikende 'adventureriders'-verstaan wel. Alle eer aan God vir so 'n voorspoedige én aangename reis. Groete

Dis wonderlik as ander mense deur Naboom2Germany geprikkel en geinspireer word. Ek hoop elke jong outjie wat hier lees sal daar prikkel voel diep in sy gees dat daar buite n groot wereld wag wag om deur JOU ontdek te word. En die ou bulle wat hier lees, gaan en gaan doen dit!

Hy wat bang is om ou bekende kuslyne uit die oog te verloor, sal nooit nuwe werelde kan ontdek nie.

Pfronten, Duitsland

Waar die sambrele staan, was my huis vir baie jare / Where the umbrellas stand was my home for many years.

Pfronten, Duitsland

Ek is nou in die Alpdorpie Pfronten waar ek vir 4 jaar gewoon het. Dit was goeie jare met soveel geleenthede om die omgewing hier te verken. Oostenryk is net 2 km van hier, en Switserland een uur se ry met die motor.

Ek het vanoggend een van my gunstelingroetes gaan ry: Pfronten – Plansee (Oostenryk) – Kasteel Linderhof (van Ludwig die Tweede) - Oberammergau (waar die Passiespele elke 10 jaar plaasvind) – Wieskirche (een van die mooiste Rokokoboustyle) – Kasteel Neuschwanstein (die weer was te donker vir ‘n goeie foto) – Lechvalle - Pfronten.

Die foto’s is hier onder.

Die pad was ideal vir die KLR: Smal, woudomsoomde paaie, bergpasse, baie draaie.

Baie dankie vir almal wat e-posse gestuur het! Dis so wonderlik om van totaal vreemdes, oud-leerlinge van 18 jaar terug, en goeie vriende te hoor!

My droom is dat Naboom2Germany slegs die begin moet wees, dat meer sulke reise moet plaasvind. Wat van Naboom2Siberia, of Naboom2Australia? Wie weet wat die toekoms inhou?

Alhoewel ek Sondag my eindpunt van Naboom2Germany bereik moet julle asseblief nie ophou hier lees nie. Tot ek terugvlieg gaan ek nog so enkele ritte doen en gereeld foto’s en beriggies laai.

Regstelling: Ek het gister van die St. Colomanskerk geskryf terwyl dit die St. Christopherkerkie was. Julle moet maar verskoon, die ouderdom …



I am in the Alpine village Pfronten where I’ve lived for 4 years many years ago. Those were good times, an ideal chance to get to know this part of the world well. Austria was only 2 km away, and Switzerland an hour by car.

I rode one of my favourite routes this morning: Pfronten – Plansee (Austria) - Castle Linderhof (of Ludwig the Second) – Oberammergau (where the Passion Play takes place every 10 years) – Wieskirche (The Church on the Meadows – one of the best example of the Rococo style) – Castle Neuschwanstein (unfortunately the weather was too bad to take a decent photograph) – the Lech Falls – Pfronten.

The photographs are below this post.

Thanks for all the emails! It is a privilege hearing from total strangers, ex-pupils of 18 years ago and good friends.

My dream is that Naboom2Germany must only be the beginning of more such trips. Perhaps something like Naboom2Siberia, or Naboom2Australia. It all depends …

Although the plan is to reach my final destination on Sunday don’t stop reading this blog. Until I fly back I will do more trips and will post more photographs and stories.

Correction: Yesterday I wrote about the St. Colomans Church while I actually meant the St. Christopher Church. I am sorry about this error. Old age, you know.

Fotos van Donderdag

Plansee (Oostenryk / Austria)

Kasteel Linderhof / Castle Linderhof

Oberammergau, bekend vir die skilderwerk aan die geboue / Oberammergau, well-known for the beautifully painted walls of the buildings.

Wieskirche / Church on the Meadows

Lechvalle / Lech Falls

Woensdag 28 Mei 2008

Die wereldvredeskruis / The World Peace Cross

St Christopher-kerkie / The St Christopher Church



Zugspitze - bruin van die Saharasand in die lug / Zugspitze - Brown due to the Sahara sand in the air

Aankoms in Duitsland / Arrival in Germany

Woensdag 28 Mei

Is daar meer in die lewe en spirituele wêreld as wat ons vermoed? Kan ons woorde wind laat opkom en sand opskep?

Gister het ek geskryf dat ek dink ek het die hitte van die Sahara saamgebring het. Vandag hang oor die Alpe ‘n bruin mistigheid. Die radio en TV nuus sê dis sand van die Sahara na ‘n hewige sandstorm.

Jy kan my uit die Sahara wegkry maar nie die Sahara weg van my nie J

Ek was toe vanoggend in die begraafplaas. Omdat al die grafskrifte in Duits is, gee ek dit in Afrikaans. Alles is eg en waar!

Graf van ‘n grafgrawer:

Hy het 90 jaar geleef
En vir baie ‘n graf gegraaf.
Wie vir ander ‘n gat graaf,
Val self daarin.

Of

Hier het Jakob Rosenknopf van sy huisdak in die ewigheid geval.

Of

Hier lê begrawe die goeie maagdelike Rothburg Rindl
Gesterf het sy met 17 jaar
Net toe sy bruikbaar was.

Of

Hier lê in soete rus,
Om die lewe gebring deur ‘n koei,
Franz Xaver Maier.
Hier kan mens sien
Op watter vreemde wyses kan ‘n mens sterf.

Of

Hier rus in God
Adam Lentsch
26 jaar het hy as mens geleef,
En 37 jaar as getroude man.

Of

In hierdie graf rus
Ulrich Peter.
Sy vrou het hulle eers later
Aan sy sy begrawe.
Gaan hy nou die Ewige Rus kan hê?

Of

Hier rus
Michael Wiesner,
En weliswaar net tot
Die Dag van Opstanding!

Of

Hier lê
Martin Krug.
Hy het sy vrou, kind en
Die orrel geslaan.

Of

Hier rus die jonge vrou
Rosalind,
Gebore as onwelkome kind.
Haar onbekende pa was
Die Kapuziner predikant!

Of

Hier lê my vrou,
Dankie tog!
Sy het aanhoudend met my gestry!
Liewe wandelaar,
Gaan dadelik weg van hier,
Anders staan sy op en begin met jou te stry!

Al hierdie grafskrifte is eg en outentiek.

Ook vandag se ry was ‘n fees. Ek het die snelweg vermy en met kronkelende paadjies deur klein dorpies en groen woude, oor hoë bergpasse en langs turkooiskleurige mere gery.

In die bosstories van (ek dink) die Januarie uitgawe van Wegbreek het ek geskryf dat ek in Oostenryk by die St. Christopher-kerkie wil stop en die Here dank vir ‘n veilige reis. Ek het dit vandag gedoen. (Sien foto). In dieselfde uitgawe het ek ook geskryf dat ek verby die Zugspitze, die hoogste piek in Duitsland, gaan ry. Ek het dit gedoen. Ongelukkig kon ek weens die Saharasand in die lug nie ‘n mooi foto neem nie.

Ek het vanmiddag 14:25 oor die grens Duitsland binnegery.

Sondagmiddag kom ek in Langenselbold aan, die amptelike einde van Naboom2Germany.



Wednesday 28 May

What do we know about the spiritual world? Is there more hidden behind our words? Can our words let things happen?

Yesterday I wrote that it felt as if I had brought the heat of the Sahara with me to Austria / Germany. This morning as I got up the Alps were covered with a brown cloud. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The radio and TV news said it was the result of a massive sand storm and the wind had brought sandll the way from the Sahara!

You can remove me from the Sahara but you cannot remove the Sahara from my soul J

I visited the graveyard this morning. I am going to translate everything from German into English. All the grave inscriptions are real and authentic.

Grave of an undertaker

He was 90 years old
And dug for many a grave.
He who digs a hole for someone else
Will fall up himself into the hole.

Or

Jakob Rosenknopf fell from the roof of his house into eternity.

Or

Here is buried the good virgin Rothburg Rindl
She was only 17 when she died.
(Just in the age when one could start using her!)

Or

Here, in eternal peace,
Killed by a cow, lies
Franz Xaver Maier.
This is the proof
What dubious ways of dying there are.

Or

Here rests in God
Adam Lentsch
26 year he lived as a human being,,
And 37 yaers as a married man.

Or

In this grave rests
Ulrich Peter.
His wife they buried next to him
only later.
Will he have the Eternal Rest now?

Or

Here rests
Michael Wiesner,
But only till the day
That Jesus will return!

Or

Here lies
Martin Krug.
He hit his wife, child
And the organ.

Or

Here is buried the beautiful
Rosalind,
She was born as an unwanted child.
Here unknown father was
The Kapuziner pastor!

Or

Here lies buried my wife,
Thank God!
She always quarreled with me!
Dear passer-by,
Leave this place immediately,
Otherwise she will rise and started quarreling with you as well!

Al these graves are real.

My tour today was again a joy. I avoided the highway. I rode on country roads through many small villages and green forests, over mountain passes en along turquoise rivers and lakes.

In the Wegbreek magazine of (I think) January I wrote that I would visit the St. Christopher Church in Austria as St Coloman is / was the patron of all travelers. I stopped at the church today and thanked God for a safe trip. See the photograph. In that same issue I mentioned the Zugspitze, the highest mountain in Germany. I passed it today, but unfortunately due to the Sahara sand the summit wasn’t that clear.

This afternoon at 14:25 I crossed the border into Germany.

I should arrive in Langenselbold on Sunday, the official end of Naboom2Germany.

Rattenberg, Oostenryk

Blou roete vir Dinsdag / Blue route on Tuesday

Van die Sahara tot by die Alpe / From the Sahara to the Alps

Rattenberg, Oostenryk

Ek dink ek het die Afrikahitte saam uit die Sahara gebring: Oostenryk en dele van Duitsland het vandag oor die dertig grade gehad!

Vandag se ry was ‘n fees vir die sintuie: Pragtige rose by vulstasies en langs die pad, soms ook in wingerde geplant; Mere en riviere waarvan die kleur gewissel het tussen turkoois blou-groen tot helderblou; Die Suid-Tiroolse Alpe met nog sneeu op die pieke, onder aan die voet van die Alpe groen grasvelde vol geel “Löwenzahn”-blomme.

Ek het die klein ss 12-pad gekies. Daar was min motors saam met my op die pad. Soms het ek die KLR teen 60 km/h net laat aanluier: Vrede op aarde.

Ek is vannaand in Rattenberg in Tirool, Oostenryk. Ek ken die stadjie reeds sedert my tyd wat ek in Duitsland gewerk het. Rattenberg het vir meer as 800 jare al stadstatus. Dit is egter nie ‘n stad nie, net ‘n klein dorpie met skaars ‘n 1 000 inwoners. Dit het ‘n pragtige ou-stad wat weerskante van die enigste straat deur die dorpie lê. Geen voertuie word binne toegelaat nie. Mens stop buite die “stad” op een van die twee parkeertereine.

Rattenberg staan bekend as die Venesië van Oostenryk, nie weens waterkanale nie maar weens die glaswerke wat hier te vinde is.

Die turkooskleurige Innrivier vloei binne 100 m van die ou-stad verby.

Daar is net een gastehuisie, geen selfoonwinkel en geen internet nie. Ek gaan vannaand die satelietmodem vir dié berig gebruik. Jammer dat ek nou geen e-posse kan beantwoord nie!

More gaan ek ‘n baie interessante begraafplaas besoek. Ek hoop ek kan julle more-aand laat glimlag. Ek was laas daar in die voor-digitale tydperk. Hou julle sakdoeke vir die (lag-)trane gereed moreaand! Selfs in die dood kan baie humor wees, veral as die agtergeblewenes ‘n laaste appeltjie met die oorledene te skil gehad het!

Tot more toe!

Rattenberg, Austria

I think with me came the heat of the Sahara to Europe. Austria and the southern part of Germany had temperatures of more than thirty degrees Centigrade today!

My ride was a festival for the senses today. Beautiful roses planted at filling stations, next to the road and even in vineyards. Lakes and rivers with a turquoise green-blue colour; The Alps in South Tyrol with snow-capped summits; At the feet of the Alps green meadows with spots of yellow “Löwenzahn” flowers.

I chose the ss 12 road and not the highway. To my surprise there was little traffic with me on the road. Often I let the KLR idle at 60 km/h, enjoying the scenery.

Tonight I am in Rattenberg, Tyrol, Austria. I know the small city since the years that I worked in Germany. Rattenberg is a city for already more than 800 years. The city status was granted as special favour to Rattenberg as the population is not more than 1 000. In any other country it would have been just a small village. You can imagine how proud the people here are to have their own “city”.

Rattenberg has a beautiful old city center with old buildings on both sides of the only street through the city. One cannot drive or ride into the “city”. You have to stop outside on one of the two parking areas.

Rattenberg is known as the Venice of Austria due to the many glass shops here. It is a real shopping paradise for anyone interested in glass and crystal.

The beautiful Inn River flows within 100 m of the city center.

There is only one guest house in the city with no cell phone shop and no internet. I am going to use the satellite modem tonight. Unfortunately it is too expensive to reply on emails, Sorry guys! Perhaps tomorrow night. (There were more internet cafes in Ethiopia than the regions in Italy and Austria that I’ve traveled through J)

Tomorrow I am going to visit a very interesting graveyard. I hope I can make you smile tomorrow night. Last time I was there was in the pre-digital era. Tomorrow I am going to take many pictures in the graveyard. Keep your hankies ready tomorrow night! There is even in death much humor.

Enjoy your evening!

Gardameer

Rooi roete vir Maandag / Red route for today, Monday

Die twee vriendelike manne wat my vir koffie uitgenooi het / The two friendly gents that invited me for coffee.

Naby Monfalcone / Near Monfalcone

Gardameer / Lake Garda

Torbole, Gardameer

Ek is terug in Afrika.

Of so het dit altans vir my vandag, Maandag, gevoel.

In Trieste is ek deur wildvreemdes vir koffie uitgenooi, soos in Soedan.

Toe ek petrol ingegooi het, het die vulstasie personeel byna tou gestaan om my te help. Soos in Afrika.

Toe ek eenkeer wou petrol ingooi na 360 km se ry, was die vulstasie leeg! Geen petrol. Soos in Gondar, Ethiopië.

Dit was ‘n goeie dag. Op pad na Trieste om my nuwe simkaart te gaan haal, het ek die afrit na Trieste gemis en digby die Sloweniëgrens gaan draai. Die onbeplande pad was ‘n juweel: Met ‘n small, slingerende bergpaadjie is ek af tot op seevlak. Die uitsig was ‘n kopfoto. En die beste: Met die onbeplande pad het ek reg in DHL vasgery! (Net jammer my ou selfoon se battery het gister met die laai ingegee. Nou sit ek nog steeds sonder kommunikasie).

Ek wou by Venisië ‘n draai gaan maak het, maar die moeder van alle verkeersopeenhopings het my gou van plan laat verander. Ek is nou in Torbole aan die Gardameer. Die pad tot hier was prentjieboekmooi. Kan julle jul dit voorstel? Regs van my hoë berge met nog ‘n klein bietjie sneeu op die pieke. Links van my ‘n meer, so blou soos die hemel, en dikwels raak die oorkantste oewer oor die horsion weg.

Torbole het nie ‘n selfoonwinkel nie, en nêrens kry ek internet nie. Almal sê toe vir my die pad al langs die meer na Riva toe is so mooi en daar is internet én ‘n selfoonwinkel. Die paadjie, 4 km tot daar, is werklik mooi. Daar is ook ‘n selfoonwinkel, net jammer dit is Maandae (vandag) toe. Niemand daar het van enige internet geweet nie. So, ek het ‘n 8 km stap gehad en sit nog steeds sonder ‘n selfoonbattery en die berig gaan heel moontlik vanaand nie gestuur word nie.

Heel moontlik is ek Dinsdagaand al in Oostenryk.

Groete!

Torbole, Lake Garda

I am back in Africa.

That is how today felt like.

In Trieste strangers invited me for coffee. Like in Sudan.

Once while filling up, the staff at the filling station all wanted to help and to fill up the bike and everyone asked about the tour. Like in Africa.

And once, after 360 km, I tried to fill up at a filling station. It was dry. No petrol. Like in Gondar, Ethiopia.

It was a lovely day. I enjoyed the riding.

On my way to Trieste to pick up the new sim card from South Africa I missed the exit to Trieste. Just before the border to Slovenian I found a small road going to Trieste. What a luck! That was the most beautiful mountain road, narrow, lot of hairpin bends and the most stunning view on the Med! And the best, that road took me directly to DHL! But I am still without cell phone. The battery of my old cell phone just died while charging.

I planned a quick stop in Venice, but the mother of all traffic jams changed my plans quickly. I am in Torbole at Lake Garda right now. The scenery is indescribable. Beautiful. Try and imagine the following: To my right high mountains with still a bit of snow on the summit. To my left a lake blue as the heaven and beautiful. Now and then the distant shore becomes invisible.

There is no cell phone shop in Torbole, also no internet café. But there is a narrow track on the shore leading to Riva, where all these shops are. Everyone assured me that I would be helped there. I decided to walk the 4 km to Riva for a bit of exercise. I found the cell phone shop but it is closed on Mondays. Internet café? Blank faces and eyes. Back to Torbole per pedes. I had a beautiful 8 km walk but still no cell phone battery, and most probably this report will not be sent tonight, Monday night.

I should be in Austria tomorrow night, Tuesday night.

Regards!

Torbole, Gardameer

Goeie naand!

Ek het geen internet hier nie, gou by n hotel toestermming gaan vra om
hierdie te stuur. Sal more vandag se berig plaas en paar mooi fotos!

Groete!

Good evening!

I dont have any internet tonight. I went to a hotel to send this
quickly. I will load the report of today tomorrow, and a few beautiful
pictures!

Regards!

10 Mei 2008

Egipte, Sinai: 'n Bietjie liefde gee.
Egypt, Sinai: Tender Love and Care

Ronchi dei Legionari (Italië)

Geel roete / Yellow route

Nic, Sib, ek (Lodie) en Cornelis. Each evening we had our small meeting up there.

Drie bottels met Naboom2Germany plakkers dryf nou in die Middelandse See. Die geel streep wys waar bottel nr. 1 dryf.
Three bottles with Naboom2Germany stickers are floating in the Med now. The yellow line indicates bottle no 1.

Goue oomblikke. Golden memories.

Ronchi dei Legionari (Italië)

Ek was vandag so 5 uur lank in die saal. Ronchi is so 2 km van Monfalcone af.

Ek het vandag baie kans gehad om op die fiets te sit en glimlag. Die weer het goed saamgespeel om my byna te laat uitsien na enige ander weer as Europese weer … Dit was bewolk, koel, en vir ‘n groot deel van die pad het so ‘n ek-wil-nie-eintlik-reën-nie reentjie geval.

‘n Paar weke gelede sou ek plat op die pad gaan lê het om die koel nattigheid te geniet. Nou laat dit my koud, letterlik en figuurlik.

Ek het vir ‘n groot deel vandag net klein paadjies gery. Die Italiaanse dorpies was so mooi: Nou straatjies, ou geboue, groen koringsvelde met rooi blomme tussen die koring. Ongelukkig was die lig was te swak vir fotografie. Kom ons hoop dat die son more skyn en dat ek ‘n paar mooi foto’s kan neem.

Ek het vandag van Tessa (die Hollandertjie) ‘n e-pos gehad. Sy en haar pa is ‘n dag voor die aanval op Khartoem weg uit Khartoem. Hulle het nou in Aswan, Egipte, aangekom. Sy het iets interessants in haar e-pos genoem. In Wadi Halfa (Soedan) het hulle op ‘n taxi afgekom met ‘n Naboom2Germany plakker op die voorruit! ‘n Taxibestuurder daar het my vir ‘n plakker gevra. Tessa-hulle het nou al in Adis Ababa op ‘n N2G plakker afgekom en nou ook in die verre noorde van Soedan weer.

Die wêreld is klein.

Ek en Sib en Nic het vanoggend vir oulaas totsien gesê. Die kanse is baie skraal dat ons paaie ooit weer hier gaan kruis. Alhoewel ons net 4 dae saam gery het, het ons mekaar so gereeld gesien dat hulle al deel van die reis was.

Ek is besig om my nou finaal op klaarmaak voor te berei. Dit help nie om daaraan te dink hoe bevoorreg ek was nie. Ek was. Ek weet. Maar ek sukkel nog steeds om aan die idée gewoond te raak dat ek binnekort een oggend gaan opstaan en nie verder gaan ry nie.

Hoe gaan my gees dit regkry om binnekort tussen die vier mure van my kantoor vasgekeer te wees?

I was on the bike for nearly 5 hours today. Ronchi is about 2 km from Monfalcone.

I sat and smiled quite often today. The weather was so helpful in bringing me to the point that I looked forward to any kind of weather except European weather … Today was a cloudy, cool day. For most of the way it drizzled.

A few weeks ago I would have enjoyed such weather. Now it leaves me cold. Literally and figuratively..

Most of the ride I was on small roads, riding through beautiful Italian towns and villages with narrow streets and beautiful old buildings. The wheat is still green on the fields. The most beautiful red flowers stood in between. Due to the bad light I couldn’t take any photographs. Let us hope that the sun will shine tomorrow!

Today I received an email from Tessa (Dutch overlander). She and her father left Khartoum a day before the city was attacked. They arrived safely in Aswan, Egypt. She mentioned something interesting. In Wadi Halfa (Sudan) they met a taxi driver with a Naboom2Germany sticker on the windscreen! When I was there a taxi driver asked me for a sticker. Tessa and Peter saw one of the stickers in Adis Ababa and now in northern Sudan again.

The world is small.

Nic, Sib and I said goodbye for the last time this morning. The chances are slim that we will meet again in Europe. Although we rode together for only 4 days we saw so often that they felt like part of my trip.

I am busy preparing myself mentally for the end of the trip. It is not easy. I know I was privileged. I know I had chances that most other people never will have. But that still does not make the end easier. I cannot picture myself getting up one morning, and no riding.

How on earth am I going to manage back in office?

3 Mei 2008

Egipte: Aswan
Egypt: Aswan

Ravenna, Italie

More!

Die skip het nou vir 24 uur in Ravenna gestop. Dis nie waar ek behoort af te klim nie maar ek kan nie meer so lank stilsit nie. Ek is nou van boord en gaan nou met die KLR Monfalcone toe ry waar hopenlik more my simkaart wag. Dan sal dit met die kommunikasie weer makliker gaan.

My hart is vanoggend swaar omdat die einde van my toer so naby is. Is ek al gereed om die KLR af te sit?



Good morning!

Our ship stopped in Ravenna, Italy, for 24 hours now. It is not supposed to be my final destination but I cannot sit stil any longer. I left the ship with my trusty KLR. I am going to ride to Monfalcone now where hopefully the sim card will be waiting tomorrow. Then communication will be easier.

My heart is heavy today. The end of my tour is so close. I do not know whether I am ready to stop.

26 April 2008

Soedan: Tussen Abri en Wadi Halfa.
Sudan: Between Abri and wadi Halfa.

19 April 2008

Soedan: Die aand van die grootste gasvryheid.
Sudan: The evening of the greatest hospitability possible.

Kom ons drink 'n knertsie op Afrika!

Kom ons drink ‘n knertsie op Afrika!

Vandag is Woensdag 21 Mei, twee maande en 6 dae na my vertrek uit Naboomspruit.

Ek sit op ‘n vragskip, die Spes. Sondagmiddag het die skip, ‘n week laat, die hawe van Haifa, Israel, binnegevaar. Die Spes gaan my en die KLR uit die Midde-Ooste na die Europese vasteland toe neem.

Die enigste tydplan vir die vragskip is geen tydplan. Niemand wil hulle verbind tot ‘n dag en datum wanneer ons in Monfalcone, Italië gaan aankom nie.

Ons het vanoggend na drie dae op see in Izmir, Turkye, aangekom. Die Spes gaan hier ongeveer 2 000 Fiat’s en Renaults laai wat Italië toe moet gaan. Hulle is hier in Turkye vervaardig.

Ons is net ses passasiers aan boord: ‘n Finse egpaar, ek, Cornelius, ‘n Hollandse VN-amptenaar op pad terug huis toe van Lebanon, en Sib en Nic Andela. Ons paaie het vir die soveelste keer gekruis.

Ek het gistermiddag na ‘n middagslapie (‘n mens kan niks anders op ‘n vragskip doen nie) met ‘n intense verlange na die Nubiese woestyn in Soedan en sy mense wakker geword. Half deur die slaap het die besef koud om my hart kom sit: Ek en die KLR is weg uit Afrika!

Die toer deur Afrika is nie meer ‘n droom nie, dis nou net ‘n herinnering.

‘n Baie mooi herinnering.

Dit was êrens gedurende Februarie 2006 gewees. Die na-somer se hitte het swaar op ons bosvelddorpie gelê.

Ek het laatmiddag op my stoep gesit. Byevretertjies het in swerms oor die huis en bos gevlieg na hulle slaapplek toe vir die nag. ‘n Vriend van die omgewing het kom koffie drink. Ek het daardie dag my besluit geneem en hy was die eerste een vir wie ek dit vertel het.

“John, ek gaan volgende jaar met my motorfiets oor Afrika ry, alleen.”

John Mailovich is ‘n groot man. ‘n Man van min woorde, ‘n harde Waterbergboer.

“Is jy f*&^n mal in jou kop?”

Dit was die meeste van my vriende se aanvanklike reaksie.

My ou bosvriend Johannes het dadelik aan die logistiek begin dink. Ek kon sien sy gees het reeds begin saamry.

Kort daarna is my dierbare kollega Ella, baie jonger as ek, aan kanker dood. Haar dood het my voorneme net versterk. Die lewe gaan te vinnig verby om net te bly droom. Gaan uit en leef jou droom!

Geleidelik het my vriende begin te besef dat ek dit werklik bedoel. Die koors het hulle begin te pak. Op so baie maniere het hulle bemoedig, aangemoedig, bygedra. Ek sou almal se oë en ore op die toer word. Ek sou gaan kyk en beleef wat die meeste miskien nooit sou doen nie.

‘n Jaar se beplanning het in ‘n oogwink verbygeskiet.

Saterdag 15 Maart 2008: My fiets was klaar gepak. Ons het almal in ‘n kring om die fiets gestaan. Dit was tyd om totsiens te sê. My hart was maar ‘n bietjie seer. Net voor ek gery het, het my oud buurman Dries ‘n mooi gebed gedoen. Dries het die seën van die Here oor my en my fiets uitgespreek. Daarna het ek gery.

Rigting Botswana toe.

Rigting Afrika.

Daarheen waar ons glo net onheil en ellende wag.

Die eerste paar dae op die fiets was ek soos in ‘n droom. Was ek regtig besig om van Naboom tot in Duitsland te ry? Ek het so ver verwyderd van die realiteit gevoel.

Geleidelik het dit by my begin insink: Kom uit die droom en begin te geniet!

Lusaka was die keerpunt. Toe ek die oggend uit Lusaka ry en oos draai, het die vreugde van ‘n Afrikatoer op my kom lê.

Ek was op pad!

Die natuur was mooi, dikwels asemrowend mooi. Op ‘n motorfiets waar jy die pad met slaggate en fietse en varke en donkies en kinders wat wild oor die pad hardloop, deel, het jy nie werklik tyd om net die natuur te sit en geniet nie.

Die besondersheid van my toer deur Afrika het in die mense gelê. Elke stop by ‘n klein winkeltjie of stalletjie langs die pad het die werklike Afrika na my toe gebring. Elke keer as ek my tentjie by ‘n statjie opgeslaan het, is ek met die Here se liefde en gasvryheid ontvang.

Die lande het onder die KLR se wiele verbygevlieg. Die een hoogtepunt na die ander het gevolg: My aandete by Petauke (Oos-Zambië) onder ‘n volmaan, die Malawimeer, Ekke en Audrey Kok wat ek daar ontmoet het, Tanzanië, Kasper en Mwinga by die Bongokampeerplek en -ontwikkelingsprojek op ‘n koel, reënerige aand toe ek nie geweet het waar ek my tentjie sou opslaan nie, Vimbai by die Old Farm House wat ‘n regte vriend vir my oor die weke geword het, Peter en Tessa in Nairobi, en so kon die lysie in oneindigheid voortgaan.

Elke mens wat ek op die reis ontmoet het, het ‘n mosaïeksteentjie in my lewensprent geword.

Ek het gedurende die reis baie aan die woorde van Dries se gebed gedink. Ek het dikwels vir my gesê dat om my fiets ‘n skare van beskermengele is wat my sal beskerm, tot die einde toe.

Toe kom Nairobi en die minibustaxi wat aan die verkeerde kant van die pad ‘n ander taxi verbysteek en my vol van die kant op die voorwiel tref.

Ek het hard geval. Ek het van die teer opgestaan, sonder ‘n enkele skraap of stukkende plek. En die belangrikste, die KLR se vurk was nie gebuig nie. Daardie oggend kon die einde van my reis gewees het.

Die volgende dag, 100 km voor Marsabit, het ek op die lawarots so hard geval dat my voorwiel halfpad in die los rotse begrawe en my linkertas losgeskeur was. Ek het sonder ‘n skrapie opgestaan.

Dan was daar die aand tussen Marsabit en Moyale, “bandit”-wêreld, konvooiwêreld, en ek moes alleen daardeur. My tentjie-opslaan onder die grootse naghemel, die lê en wag vir die slaap van ‘n uitgeputte reisiger, daardie ervarings het ek reeds in my boekie van goue lewensoomblikke neergeskryf.

Een van die grootste uitdagings sou die Nubiese woestyn in Soedan wees. Elke motorfietsryer wat al daar deur is, het dit uitgesonder. Baie ander het verkies om eerder hul fietse op die weeklikse trein te sit en so deur die woestyn te ry.

Dit was ’n Sondag toe ek in Khartoem aangekom het. Die hitte was ongelooflik. Die son het van bo geskroei en die teerpad se uitstraling het van onder af gebrand. Daar was omtrent nie ‘n kilometer van die pad waar nie stukkende buitebande van motors of vragmotors gelê het nie. Die pad het genadeloos met enige band wat oud en afgeleef of beskadig was, afgereken.

Ek het lank met myself in Khartoem geredeneer omdat ek werklik in die hitte swaargekry het: Trein of nie? Ek het niks gehad om te bewys nie en daarom het ek die trein weens die hitte ernstig oorweeg. Maar, aan die ander kant, sou ek dan na die tyd nog steeds voel dat ek het deur Afrika gery het?

Die Woensdagoggend toe ek in Khartoem wakker geword het, het ek geweet wat ek gaan doen. Ek wou die woestyn gaan ry.

In al die reisgidse oor Soedan lees mens die waarskuwing dat mens meer tyd moet toelaat vir enige reis in Soedan want dit neem langer om by jou bestemming te kom as wat jy gereken het.

Ek het die Donderdagoggend drie-uur uit Khartoem vertrek. In die flou lig van my tweede volmaan op toer het ek noord gery, rigting Nylrivier.

Vandat ek by Dongola aangekom het tot ek deur die woestyn by Wadi Halfa was, het die een hoogtepunt na die ander oor my pad gekom.

Wat was dit wat my siel die meeste aangeraak het? Die menslike kontakte? Die genadeloosheid van die woestyn? Die koel water in die groot erdekruike langs die pad onder palmbome? Of is dit miskien die swem in die Nyl na ‘n bitter warm dag? Of was dit die twee aandetes op een aand by die Nubiërs by die lig van ‘n olielampie terwyl ‘n warm woestynwind ons daaraan herinner het dat die hitte die volgende dag genadeloos terug sou wees?

Of was die grootste hoogtepunt miskien die oorwinning oor jou eie vrees om, wanneer jy om ‘n draai kom en jy sien die bitter diep spore in die sand, die KLR in eerste rat te sit en jou doof te hou vir die geskreeu van die enjin tot jy veillig deur die sand is?

Hoekom trek die Nubiese woestyn en sy mense my so intens terug? Ek wonder of dit nie my eie vrees is dat ek nooit weer die kans gaan kry om daardie nog byna ongerepte gebied te besoek in die toestand waarin dit nou is nie. Nie net ‘n nuwe teerpad deur die Nubiese woestyn kan die euwels van die beskawing na dié ongeskonde volke bring nie, dit kan ook ‘n deur oopmaak vir baie mense om ‘n beter lewe in die stad te gaan soek. Wat gee my, die besoeker, die reg om te wens dat die teerpad daar nooit gebou word nie?

Ek is werklik spyt dat ek nie meer tyd daar deurgebring het nie. Die raad van die reisgidse was in my geval verkeerd. Ek is vinniger as wat ek gedink het deur die Nubiese woestyn. Met my na-kennis sou ek stadiger, meer intens daar gery het.

Egipte was miskien vir my dié teleurstelling van die Afrikabeen van die toer. Daar was soveel wat ek nog wou gaan sien het maar die tydbeperkinge deur die konvooiryery het dit baie moeilik gemaak. Die laatmiddag toe ek en Sib en Nic die polisie ontduik het deur op ‘n sandpaadjie af te draai na die plasies langs die Nyl het baie vir die verlies vergoed. Ons kuier daardie middag en aand by Sameh en Niven Kaissar Raflah sal altyd in my reisherinnering ‘n ereplek inneem.

So, wat is die feite oor my alleenreis deur Afrika? Kom ek skok ‘n bietjie die aartspessimiste.

• Ek het nie een keer bedreig gevoel nie;
• Ek moes nie een keer enige omkoopgeld betaal nie;
• Ek is nie een keer beroof of besteel nie;
• Nie een keer het iemand my die deur gewys as ek water of slaapplek gevra het nie.

Dit is miskien nie dit wat baie mense wil lees nie. Ek kan ook nie ter wille van ‘n stygende spanningslyn gebeure aandik net om almal geboeid te laat verder lees nie.

Was die olifant op die pad werklik die groot bedreiging wat my met ‘n bewende hand laat bid het dat die KLR nie op daardie oomblik moes stol nie? Was die man met die AK-47 in die stowwerige bos van Suid-Ethiopië werklik ‘n bloeddorstige barbaar, of was dit net ‘n kleinboer wat sy veekudde teen stropers beskerm het?

Dit sou so maklik gewees het om dramaties te word. Ek kan nie. My Afrika-ervaring was te suiwer, te intens om dit te wil ver-Hollywood.

Was dit die regte besluit om die toer manalleen aan te pak? Ja! Duisendmaal ja!

As jy hier lees en jy het nog altyd gedroom om so iets te doen, neem jou kalender en trek ‘n kring om ‘n datum en gaan doen dit! Dit hoef ook nie ‘n trans-Afrika toer te wees nie. Jy kan jou droom ook binne die grense van ons land verwesenlik.

Afrika het meer goeie mense as goeie regerings. Los jou vooroordele by die huis, jou vrese, gaan en ontmoet jou Afrikabroer en –suster!

Dit is dus nou werklik totsiens aan Afrika en hallo aan Europa!

Tot volgende week!

Bye, Africa, bye!

Bye, Africa, bye!

Today is Wednesday, 21 May. Two months and six days ago I left Naboomspruit on my solo trek across Africa.

At the moment I am on a cargo ship, the Spes. Last Sunday the Spes reached the harbour of Haifa, Israel, six days late. This ship will bring me with my trusty KLR from the Middle East to Europe.

The only timetable this ship has is no timetable. No one is prepared to give an exact day or time, on which the ship will reach Monfalcone in Italy.

After three days crossing the Mediterranean our ship reached Izmir in Turkey this morning. They are going to load about 2 000 Fiats and Renaults, built in Turkey, destined for Italy.

There are only six passengers on board: A Finnish couple, a Dutch, employed by the UN and returning home after a year in Lebanon, myself and then dear old Sib and Nic. Yes, our ways crossed again.

Yesterday afternoon I had a good afternoon’s sleep (That is the only allowed activity onboard a cargo ship). I woke up in a miserable mood. I couldn’t believe it. I was missing the Nubian desert and those wonderful Sudanese people. The realisation crept into my mind: The KLR and I have left the shores of Africa!

My tour through Africa isn’t a dream anymore! It is a memory now.

It has become one of my most treasured memories.

My thoughts ran back to last year, sometime during February. It was late summer and the heat of the late afternoon covered our bushveld town like a warm blanket.

I was on my veranda. Bee-eaters flew low over my house, on their way to the overnight spots. A friend, a local farmer, came over for a cup of coffee. Earlier that afternoon I finally had decided to do the tour, and he was the first one, to whom I broke the news.

“John, next year I am going to ride over Africa with my bike, alone.”

John Mailovich is huge man, a man of few words, a hardened Waterberg farmer.

“You are f.. n mad,” was his only reply.

That was how many of my friends felt in the beginning.

Johannes, my old bush mate, immediately started thinking of the logistical realities should I need any spares or help along the route. I could see that in spirit he was already with me on this trip.

And then my colleague Ella died of cancer. She was a beautiful lady and much younger than me. Her death strengthened my determination to do this trip. Life is over so quickly that we have to live our dreams now.

Gradually my friends started realising that I meant it, that I actually was going to do the trip. My excitement spilt over to them and in so many ways they started contributing to the planning and executing of the tour.

I had a whole year to plan the trip. That was the shortest and longest year of my life!

Saturday 15 March 2008: The KLR was packed. We all stood around the bike. It was time to say goodbye. A wave of sadness to leave all my family and friends behind, suddenly struck me. My ex-neighbour Dries did a touching last prayer for my safety and for the bike. Then I left.

My route took me to Botswana.

Into Africa.

To that dark continent where all that could go wrong, should go wrong.

The first few days passed like in a dream. It didn’t feel like reality. Was I really busy riding from Naboom to Germany?

Gradually reality started sinking in. I realised I had to wake up and enjoy that incredible experience!

The turning point came in Lusaka. That morning as I left the city and turned east I started enjoying the ride. The joy of a long tour through Africa settled in my heart and stayed there until the end.

I was riding through Africa!

I rode through beautiful parts of the continent with breathtaking scenery. Unfortunately when one is on a motorcycle, sharing the road with bicycles and pedestrians and pigs and goats and donkeys and small children there is not much time to sit back and relax and enjoy the scenery.

The beauty of the tour shifted more and more from the beauty of the scenery to the beauty of human contact. Each time as I stopped at a small roadside shop or fruit stand I experienced African friendliness and hospitality. Each time I pitched my small tent at a village I discovered in the warm greetings of the locals what Christianity is or should be.

The first few weeks the KLR flew through the many different countries on route. The one highlight followed the next: My supper next to my tent in Petauke (East Zambia) under my first full moon on tour; Meeting Audrey and Ekke Kok at Lake Malawi; My early evening arrival at the Bongo camp site in Tanzania where I met Kasper and Mwinga, two beautiful people filled with love and idealism; Vimbai from the Old Farm House who was an excellent host and who became a real friend over the following months; Peter and Tessa, the father and daughter team from Holland who set an excellent example to so many families worldwide. These are but a few of many that I could put on my list.

Each person whose hand I shook, each person with whom I had a long conversation, each person who offered me some comfort under testing situations, each one became a mosaic stone in the big picture of my life.

During the trip I often thought about the prayer that Dries had done the last morning. I firmly believed that a whole bunch of guardian angels were travelling with me. How else could one explain so many things?

Nairobi: A taxi came speeding down the road on the wrong side of the road and hit me full from the side on the front wheel. I fell quite hard on the tar. I got up, aching but without a single scratch. The fork of the KLR was not bent and after a few small reparations I could continue with my tour. So easy it could have been the end of my tour that morning.

The next day, 100 km before Marsabit, I had another hard fall on lava stone. The impact was so hard that half of the front wheel was buried under the stones. Again I got up, no injuries.

Then there was the evening between Marsabit and Moyale. It was in a lawless part of the country with bandits roaming and killing innocent people even until last year. I missed the convoy and had to travel on my own. That night, pitching my tent under a heaven filled with stars as I have never seen before, is written in my book of special moments.

One of the biggest challenges on the tour was definitely the Nubian desert in Sudan. Many overlander riders prefer to put their bikes on the weekly train up to Wadi Halfa and skip the desert ride.

I arrived in Khartoum on a Sunday. The heat was unbearable. The sun burnt down on me and the asphalt radiated a heat as bad. Next to the road there was not a single kilometre without tyre carcasses lying there, coming from cars or trucks. That boiling hot road destroyed any old or damaged tyre.

I had a battle with myself in Khartoum. I was struggling in the heat and was considering putting my bike on the train. I had to prove nothing to anybody. But, if I would do that would I really feel that I had travelled through Africa?

The Wednesday morning I woke up and I knew what I was going to do: I would tackle and ride the desert!

I left Khartoum the Thursday morning at three. With the weak moonlight of my second full moon on tour I aimed for the Nile further north.

From Dongola until I arrived at Wadi Halfa, the final destination in Sudan, my journey was filled by highlights too many to mention.

What touched me the most? The many friendly people I met? The merciless and desolated desert? The cool drinking water in the brown urns next to the road under the palm trees? Or perhaps the two suppers on one night, sitting with the men at their oil lamp with a hot desert wind blowing that reminded us that the scorching heat would be back the next day?

Or was the greatest highlight perhaps the victory over my own fear? To overcome the anxiety when you come around a bend and the track disappears in a sea of tracks in deep, soft sand, threatening to stop you in your tracks? You had to keep yourself deaf to the screaming of the KLR’s engine in first gear until you reach firm ground again.

Why do the Nubian desert and the people living there attract me back? Is it perhaps the possibility that I never again would have the chance to experience them, untouched, unspoilt, as they are now, today? The new asphalt road coming will not only bring advantages, but also the evils of “civilisation” so much easier to them. Many of those beautiful people will leave their desert to find a so-called better life in the cities. However, do I, as a visitor, have the right to wish that their life must stay as it is now? I doubt it.

I am really sorry that I haven’t spent more time in the Nubian desert and villages. The travel guides were so wrong. I got much quicker to Wadi Halfa as planned. With the knowledge that I now have I would have gone slower, stopped more often and spent more time with those wonderful people.

Egypt was the biggest disappointment of the Africa leg of my tour. I would have loved to visit and see more places and tourist attractions, but due to the time constrains caused by the numerous convoys it was impossible. The only highlight was the one afternoon when Nic, Sib and I escaped from the police and turned off onto a gravel road leading to the small farms at the Nile. The afternoon and evening spent with Sameh and Niven Kaissar Raflah turned into one of the most memorable experiences.

So, what are the facts regarding my solo trip across Africa? Let me disappoint the pessimists:

• I never felt threatened in any way;
• I was never approached for any bribe;
• I was never robbed or anything stolen from me;
• Not a single time I was turned away when I asked permission to camp at a village.

Perhaps my trip may be classified as boring. People love to read about all the bad and dangerous things happening to travellers, and some travellers thrive on painting the picture much more dramatically as it was.

Was that elephant on the road close to me really so threatening that with a shaking hand I had to pray that the KLR wouldn’t die on racing away? Was that guy with the AK 47 in the bush in Southern Ethiopia really life threatening to me, or was he just a small farmer guarding his cattle against the notorious cattle thieves? It all depends on your perspective.

It would have been so easy to paint a dramatic picture of my Africa tour, with me the lonely hero. However, by doing so I would have insulted Africa and turn my trip into a Hollywood script.

Was it the right decision to go on this tour alone? Yes, yes, yes!!

If you as reader are one of those people dreaming to do such a tour, go and find a calendar, select a date and start working towards that date! Just do it! It doesn’t have to be a tour across Africa. You can realise your dream also within the borders of South Africa.

Africa has more good people than good governments. Leave the many prejudices at home and go and meet your Africa brother and sister!

It is indeed adieu to Africa now, and hello to Europe!

Until next week!

12 April 2008

Addis Adaba: Mense mense mense. Ek het so iets nog nooit beleef nie.
Addis Ababa: People every where. I have never experienced something like that.

5 April 2008

Ethiopië: Ek slaap in Mega by 'n twyfelagtige plek waar ek R 17 betaal vir 'n bed, bier en aandete.
Ethiopia: I spent the night in Mega at a dubious place. I paid R 17 for a bed, beer and supper.

29 Maart 2008

Tanzanië: 'n Fratsvloed het die pad verspoel.
Tanzania: A flash flood made the road impassable.

22 Maart 2008

Malawi: Malawimeer
Malawi: Lake Malawi

15 Maart 2008

Botswana: 30 km voor Francistown.
Botswana: 30 km before Francistown.