Ride for Polio, Day 13 – The last 70km back home

It was raining throughout the whole night and while I felt well rested I did not sleep a lot. It was time to get up and go. With less than 80km I thought it could only be an easy ride back into Lagos. Little did I know that today was going to be as difficult and challenging as every other day where we cycled over 100km.

The first 25km of the day went by without much happening. The skies were overcast and dark clouds were looming bringing with it the promise of certain rain later on. We reached Agbara, the last big town before we will reach the outskirts of Lagos. After stopping for two ice cold malt drinks (just to keep the wolves at bay) we were off going further east and getting ever closer to our end goal.

From here the road became increasingly busy and the traffic picked up at a significant rate. It started to rain and by now the road was a filthy muddy mess. This last 40km of the entire ride was by far the most challenging, technical and required the most concentration. It was characterised by lots of stopping and going, road side bus stops, weaving through traffic, potholes (some of which were invisible due to the rain and mud), poor and reckless driving and more rain. Fortunately for me, the wind was still pushing me from behind so even though it was impossible to settle into a comfortable rhythm I was able to achieve good speed during the short sections where our progress was not halted by road side bus stops.

Eventually we reached the Lagos State University Campus and by now I knew that it would only be a matter of a few minutes before we reach the real hustle and bustle of the city I have gotten so used to over the last few years. The Mile 2 junction followed very soon after that and before I knew it I reached the bridge at Orile from where I had a clear view of the National Theatre Complex, the Nigerian Breweries Head office (our friends from Heineken) and the highest cranes from the Lagos port. Here I had to wait for Friday and Uzo to catch up with me since they had to fight and work a little harder than me to beat the traffic.

In no time they caught up. A few minutes later a small camera crew joined us (the same crew who accompanied us from Lagos to the Seme border on Day 1) and after witnessing a truck and a smaller sedan crash right in front of us (fortunately no one got hurt, except of course for the inevitable bruised egos of the drivers) apparently because they haven’t seen a white man on a bicycle in that part of town before, we were off to complete the final 10.4km home.

Twenty minutes later and with tears of joy (or was it perhaps the rain drops rolling down my cheeks) I hit my brakes, sat on the stairs right in front of our block of flats and took off my helmet one last time. It is done! We have made! I have just lived through one of my dreams! How amazing! What a privilege!

It was time to reflect on the adventure that came to an end. I was thinking of the Giants (and heroes) who inspired me to take the first step into this adventure:

·         Dervla Murphy, the Irish lady who, amongst various other crazy adventures, cycled from Dublin to Dehli in 1963 (unaided)

·          Mark Beaumont, the Scottish man who broke the record for pedalling around the world and who cycled the length of the Rockies and Andes (mostly unaided)

·         Riaan Manser, the South African guy who circumvented Africa on his bicycle (unaided) and Madagaskar on his kayak (unaided)

I was thinking of people with polio. We see them almost every day on their hands and feet, in deficient wheelchairs, on little make shift skateboards weaving between the traffic to try and make a living. They are the brave “War Horses” who have all the odds stacked against them. Now at least 101 of these "War Horses" will have an opportunity for a better life thanks to all the heroes who pledged so generously in support of this event.

I was thinking of all my friends, family and colleagues who were supporting me all the way.

Most of all I was thinking of the real hero of this two week adventure. Daleen Haarhoff, the South African chick who married me almost 13 years ago and who made the biggest sacrifice of all by sticking with me through all these years and for taking care of our two children (unaided) during these last two weeks. Without this sacrifice the Ride for Polio would have remained only a dream. How does one truly say thank you?

There were so many highs and some lows during the last two weeks. This experience will truly remain with me for the rest of my life! While there is no basis to compare this adventure to the awesome achievements of the Giants listed above, I am just grateful that, by the grace of God, I continue to be a healthy person and to have all my body parts in good working order. There is no excuse – this body needs to stay active and all its parts, so long as possible, must be utilised 100%. We have to live life everyday as if it is the last.

I am truly grateful to be alive and for life itself!

Ride for Polio Day 12 - D crazy hour, losing Willem in Badagry

Ever since I tagged along on this journey I had acted more like the unofficial photographer, taking and inspiring multiple photographs at every opportunity along the way. I had mostly accomplished this using my camera and black berry, using the camera more on Monday and the early part of Tuesday since there was no MTN service in Togo and I would therefore be unable to update my black berry contacts with the photographs and proceedings. Thankfully MTN was very much available once we crossed into Benin Republic late Tuesday morning and I promptly switched to using the BB as my paparazzi tool with less frequent use of the camera.

Having taken quite a number of photographs over the past few days and engaging in an endless series of feed-back sessions on BB with my friends back in Lagos who were eager to find out what was going on at every moment, I settled more and more into my role and was even confident enough to take a few dodgy shots with my BB at some border crossings and check points (very much against the law o, although I still can’t comprehend the rationale for this obnoxious law).

So just after crossing the Seme border and approaching Badagry at steady pace, I had my camera focused on Willem and shooting away. Just then he pulled up behind a truck and another vehicle and there was a pedestrian standing right in the middle of the road and talking to him obviously thrilled by his quest. I pressed my camera shutter button to capture this interesting sight and just then I looked up and realised we were right in the middle of a Customs check point. An officer who had noticed this ‘impudent’ act promptly walked up to my side of the vehicle and asked to see the camera. I reluctantly gave him at Friday’s urging and proceeded to step out of the car. Friday screamed out to Willem to get him to stop but the great protector had moved on as the traffic cleared. I asked Friday to move on and catch up with Willem while I deal with the situation but he was having none of it so we parked and came out of the car.

The officials then proceeded to give us the story about how it was offensive to use a camera at checkpoints and that they were going to at the minimum seize the memory card and give us the camera. I panicked at the thought of losing all my wonderful photographs from the last few days and   fervently explained to them how we were on a quest for Polio and had to capture several strategic moments on celluloid. We also swore to them that there were no shots capturing the officers or indicating a check point and one of the reasonable officers decided to put this to the test by scanning through all the photographs. As he pressed through picture after picture, I did a double take in my head to reassure myself that I didn’t have any such contraband images on my camera and I was so thankful that I had used my BB more throughout the trip because I would have definitely been sure to have some defaulting pictures if I had used the camera more. Needless to say I intuitively and discreetly reached for my BB in my pocket to navigate it from picture folder to home screen just in case they decided they wanted to search us.

I was even more terrified because I was sure that if the officers had found even one photograph of any border or checkpoint from Ghana to Lagos, they would not only detain the camera but us as well which would most certainly delay or deter Willem from achieving his cycling quest at this 11^th hour.

After viewing every single photograph from Ghana through Togo and Benin, the officer was convinced we were clean and handed the camera back to us with a touching sermon about how we must not do this again. Friday was obviously flustered by this time as he had vainly tried to explain to an officer who asked us what Polio was and what exactly we were doing only to receive more stick from another officer when he informed them we had raised over 100 wheelchairs for polio victims. He just couldn’t understand how law enforcement officers could be so impervious to reason. Thank God for the one reasonable officer who had decided to give us a chance.

We promptly set off to catch up with Willem as Friday hit full throttle in no time. He went into this angry tirade about how the law enforcement officers were a bunch of ‘no-goods’, even daring to challenge him as he politely tried to explain our position and purpose. I just silently listened and nodded in agreement. The truth is I was half expecting him to have a go at me for being so stupid to have a camera up at a checkpoint considering he had once warned me about this at the Togo/Benin border. He was so angry in his tirade on the officers and I was quite surprised that nothing had been said about the root cause of the delay.

Soon enough we discovered that Willem was still nowhere in sight even after driving about 3 minutes at full speed to catch up with him. We were suddenly at a round-about with the option of either turning right off the express road or going straight on. We asked some Okada riders if they had seen any white man on a bicycle to which they answered in the negative. We then asked for directions to Whispering Palms which was our final destination for the day and they indicated that while we could go both ways, we would be better off turning right and away from the express.

 Friday was however more than convinced we had not passed Willem yet and decided to do a u-turn and head back for the check point only to change his mind half way through and make another u-turn at a filling station half way up the road. He drove into the station and asked the patron if he had seen Willem. Apparently they had stopped to say hi to the attendants at that station on their way to Ghana and we were therefore trusting that they would have noticed if Willem had passed since he had picked up a habit of giving a shout out at all such familiar places throughout the return ride from Ghana. They told us they hadn’t seen him but promised to let him know that we were on the look-out for him in the event that he came by.

Friday and I were therefore faced with some critical decision making. We could either drive back to the check point and face those terrorists again or proceed to catch up with Willem who might be so far ahead by this time and worried sick about what had happened to us, especially as his phone was with us. We considered the fact that the distance from the check point to the filling station was too short for Willem to not have come by after all this time and that meant he had somehow passed the station without their notice and had proceeded far ahead. With this in mind, we hit the express and sped to the round-about again and this time turned right off the express after reconfirming the directions from the locals.

Thus began our long and never ending torturous journey into the heart of Badagry on the search for both Willem and Whispering Palms, whichever came first. But as we moved deeper and deeper, requiring directions from the locals at regular intervals, we realised that Willem couldn’t have taken this route and may have gone straight on the express at the round-about. It was too late to turn back and our only hope was to try to get to the Whispering Palms early enough and if we didn’t find Willem, we’d then work our way back to the express through the alternate  route and hopefully catch him on the way.

By this time, we had lost touch with Willem for about 30 minutes, perhaps the longest time he had cycled without his support vehicle and I couldn’t help but blame my paparazzi self for everything. I had come in to ruin this adventure and a man’s historical quest right on the verge of its completion, needless to say both camera and BB were sitting idly like scourges in between my laps and never to be used till further notice. My head was filled with conflicting emotions and my tummy churned with acid. The optimistic adventurer in me told me Willem was okay and probably excited to be alone for a while and that we would eventually be laughing about this whole thing at day’s end and including it in his daily blog as another interesting highlight of his trip. After all what was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he didn’t know where whispering palm was, he had chosen the place before hand, worst case we would go back the alternate route and find him, that is if he wasn’t already in the hotel having a cold beer and waiting for us. On the other hand I couldn’t shake away the nagging feeling of dread that something had hopelessly gone wrong or was about to. What if he had gotten fed up of cycling on without us or waiting for us on the express and decided to turn back to the check point and then not finding us anywhere on the route since we had diverted, became too tired to make it back (bear in mind he had been cycling about 6 hours already and clearly exhausted), or that he had been hit by a motorist signalling the end of the dream, or had somehow taken the same route we took and got lost......hell we could be going round and round in circles, chasing each others’ tails till nightfall. And all the while I couldn’t help but think it was all my fault and the whole world was going to blame for being the Judas of our band.

The longer our journey was, the more agitated Friday got with the whole thing; the check point officers, the long distance between Whispering Palms and the express road and every other thing that is wrong with Nigeria...everything except me, thankfully. Friday is a very cheerful and exciting guy to be with but trust me I didn’t fancy being at the receiving end of his angst.

We finally got to Whispering Palms and I can’t remember being happier at arriving at any other destination in my life. The time was almost 1.30pm, over an hour after we lost contact with Willem and the sinking feeling promptly returned once we were told that no white rider had been sighted.

We had just commenced the long journey back to the express and were already contemplating the alternative route ahead of us when Friday exclaimed...’See Willem!’ I looked ahead and could only see an Okada man with a passenger and for a fleeting moment I feared the worst – Willem on Okada, what had happened? – But then I realised it wasn’t him. Friday again said the words ’Its Willem!’ and though I still couldn’t see him, I can tell you those were the sweetest two words I had heard all day. After squinting and squinting and being accused by Friday of being half-blind, I finally saw the great protector in all his glory cycling up and down the rough muddy road towards us. It was my Eureka moment and I had to restrain myself from jumping out the car to give him a hug, instead Friday made a U-turn and followed him slowly like he had always done through the past 12 days. It was as if nothing had even happened, business as usual. Ha!

Willem stopped to ask if the place was still very far as he was obviously on his last legs. We encouraged him with the sweet words ‘not much longer’ and it was with great relief that we all bundled at the Whispering palms gate less than a minute later. As they opened and we drove in, I could feel a twinkle in my eye and tickle in my mind....all’s well that ends well and I would indeed be writing an interesting story with a happy ending later that day. And of course it wasn’t until one hour later when we were having cold beer and delicious Suya that I was confident enough to bring out my paparazzi tools and resume photographic duties.

P.S. It turns out that Willem cycled only a few metres ahead of the check point and stopped by the waters just after the bridge to wait for us. It was no more than 500 metres away but we missed him because we drove by with such ferocious angry speed after the ordeal with the officers and were in too much of a hurry to catch up with our friend. After a while, he got tired of waiting and cycled back to the post and they told him we had been long gone. He decided to cycle on, got to the filling station where he was told that we had come to look for him and had gone ahead up the express on our quest to find him. He moved on to the roundabout and went straight up the express, not taking the right turn like we did. His was a much straight forward albeit comparably long route and he quite enjoyed the ride without the support vehicle save for a few testy moments where he was in danger of being hit off the road. He couldn’t imagine that we had gotten so worried about him being lost when we finally met again. I guess the optimistic adventurer in me had been quite right after all.                                       

Ride for Polio, Day 12 – From Ouidah (Benin) to Badagry (Nigeria)

I was full of anticipation and excitement for today’s ride. Even though I felt sad that this trip was about to come to an end I was eager to get going again – 45 km before we hit the centre of Cotonou, another 30km from there to the Seme border post and then another 40km before we reach the Whispering Palms resort in Badagry for our last night on the Ride for Polio.

After leaving Ouidah at first light we reached the outskirts of Cotonou in good time. The closer we got to the centre of Cotonou the more the traffic started to build up. It turned out to be a pretty noisy and crazy affair. Small motor cycles came out by the thousands to add the countless un-road worthy trucks and taxis. Noise pollution taken to a whole new level.

Eventually we reached the centre of Cotonou and I was now starting to have some serious hunger pains. The hunger however was soon forgotten when all of a sudden I saw two small motorbikes collide and people being flung in different directions. While no one seemed to be seriously injured (other than some bruised egos), what followed wasn’t pretty. A big argument (all in French) ensued and then the policeman on duty decided it was his turn to show that he was in charge. The next moment he started hitting the cyclist who seemed to have been at fault while everybody else stood by watching the punishment being dished out to the poor bloke making a living by transporting people on his bike. I could hardly believe my eyes. I wonder how this would go down in other parts of the world...

My hunger pains may have disappeared temporarily with all the early morning action but I was soon reminded that I had not yet eaten anything by the lack of energy I was having at that point in time. The next challenge was to find a suitable spot to stuff my face with food. After 2 hours of solid cycling since we left Ouidah and 50km on the clock we eventually found a shabby looking road side “breakfast” spot that had a big lipton sign. I just realised that I hadn’t had any tea since leaving Lagos 12 days ago and figured that if they sell tea that they must surely sell food also. And right I was...the owner made us a lovely 3-egg omelette on a bed of petit pois and tamato mix on his small gas stove (the fact that my food was too hot to eat when I got it made me comfortable about the hygiene factor – the environment was certainly not clean and by no means pretty by any stretch of the imagination). The food and the tea (with condensed milk) was great and was exactly what I needed to maintain a strong and consistent cadence until we reached the border.

After a relatively straight forward and effortless border crossing (my first ever at this border) we were back in Nigeria. I could hardly believe it. After so much cycling we had only 90km left before reaching Ikoyi but that would not happen until the following day. The next stretch of road was littered with police, immigration and custom check points. It became pretty frustrating after a few stops because it made it difficult for me to get into any sort of rhythm.

Our last few km for the day did not go without any drama. At one of the last custom check points I was duly acknowledged and waved through by the officials while “earning” their “income” for the day. About 1km later I noticed that Friday and Uzo were nowhere to be seen. They were probably stopped at the previous checkpoint I figured so I stopped cycling, sat down next to the road and waited for them to catch up with me. After about 20 minutes of waiting I became concerned that something may have happened that might require my intervention (would probably have made the situation worse than it already was). Thus I decided to cycle back to where I thought they may been held up. They were nowhere to be seen. After inquiring about their whereabouts, the officials told me that they had long since left in the same directions I was just coming from.

I was all alone with no money and no cell phone and I had no idea where my support vehicle was. The only thing I could think of doing was to continue cycling until I reach the Whispering Palms. This was no comfortable task –by now the traffic picked up and I was seriously concerned about my own safety judging by the way the big trucks and busses were flying past me from behind. I cringed every time I heard a big vehicle coming from behind hoping that it won’t be the last time I see daylight. Fortunately however I am still here to tell the tale.

Over an hour and half later and after cycling most of the remaining part of the day’s route all by myself on the busy Badagry-Lagos expressway, I eventually found my support vehicle with two occupants looking extremely pale, concerned but relieved that I was in one piece and still safe. What happened and how was it possible that we could have lost each other? I would not find out the answer until much later in the evening because by now I was too tired to be asking questions. All I wanted to do was to reach our final destination, have a cold drink and take a shower (Maslow was a clever guy!).

Given that I had no first-hand knowledge of the events which transpired during the 90 minutes ordeal experienced by Friday and Uzo, I have asked Uzo to make a guest appearance on my blog to tell his side of the story. Pretty funny! Check out the next blog!

Anyway, we eventually reached Whispering Palms and after taking a longer than usual time to check in to our room we settled down to shake off the dust from the day’s journey and muse over the last 12 days’ adventure.

What a privilege we have to be alive and well!

Ride for Polio, Day 11 – From Lome (Togo) to Ouidah (Benin)

Unlike my expectations of yesterday we had a fun filled and relatively comfortable day. We left Lome shortly after 6am (local time) and covered the nearly 120km in good time with enough to spare for other recreational activities once in Ouidah. Except for the last two hours of the day’s ride, we had relatively comfortable weather conditions with the wind pushing us from behind. The highlight of the day was definitely our early lunch at Grand Popo...

Leaving the comfort of our hotel we hit the road and very soon made it to the first of the two gravel roads in Togo that caused me such discomfort on the way to Accra. Fortunately there was a lot less traffic and with the wind now coming from behind also a lot less dust blowing into my eyes, mouth and nostrils. Then suddenly I heard a big bang. As I looked back over my shoulder I saw two cars rammed into one another with a lot of people standing around waving and shouting in French (based on their body language I guessed that they were not greeting each other in a friendly manner).

Since we had a long road to cover, we did not stay to watch the end of it all but Friday told me later on that an over eager motorist tried to overtake us when perhaps most of us would not have. Friday, with his tried and tested driving skills, did not allow this guy to overtake us fearing that he might hit me off my bike. Apparently, the accident occurred when this guy swerved to the left in one last feeble attempt to overtake Friday and then slammed head on into oncoming traffic. Failure!

Eventually we reached the final “DEVIATION” sign board and we were back onto the main road and I had settled into a nice and comfortable rhythm. About 15 km later I looked to my left and saw someone waving at me with all his might. It was one of Mr Aloegavi’s sons who recognised me on my bicycle.

Mr Aloegavi, who did not feature on day 3 of my blog, is a local village chief who speaks perfect English and owns a road side motor vehicle repair shop. One of his wives also runs a small road side beauty salon and they will definitely be the wrong people you would try to sell coconuts to. On day 3 of our trip (from Grand Popo, Benin to Keta, Ghana) we stopped over at Mr Aloegavi’s for a quick breakfast. While we were eating, he had one of his sons carting a wheelbarrow filled with coconuts over to our vehicle. After about 4 coconuts I had to ask them to stop otherwise they would have cracked open all of them.

Even though this was an unscheduled stop for the morning, I did start to feel some hunger pains. Besides, it would have been improper of us not to stop at Mr Aloegavi’s again after the great hospitality shown to us a week earlier. Within minutes another wheelbarrow filled with coconuts made its appearance and we were once again treated to industrial quantities of coconut juice. After repaying for their hospitality in kind (we gave them some t-shirts, dried fruit, cheese and salti crack biscuits), we waved them goodbye and headed off to the next border crossing which was now only about 25km away.

The rest of our Togo experience passed by relatively quickly and before long we reached the border. Crossing it was pretty straightforward. We were now back in the Republic of Benin, crossed the time zone losing one hour in the process and the sun started to rear its head from its deep slumber of the last few days.

By now the sun started to take its toll on me and the rehydration juices were flowing at a steady rate. My yearning for an ice cold coke also started to get the better of me and most importantly of all I was getting really, really hungry. It was time to eat. Fortunately our next pit stop was only about 9km away so I made it a small goal to achieve before the promise of some food and drink.

About 20 minutes later we reached Grand Popo, the same settlement that served as our overnight location at the end of Day 2. It did not take us a long time to find the first Coca cola sign which prompted me to hit the brakes and dash for the first available open table ready to be served. The location of this little road side “restaurant” was perfect. It provided nice shade from the angry sun and we had a nice view of the ocean. There was also a nice breeze coming from the west and I was happy with our decision to stop.

When the waiter brought my coke to our table I could hardly believe my eyes – an ice, ice cold 60cl glass bottle of coke. I have never seen coke being served in such denominations before – it reminded me of the 1 litre coke bottles they used to sell in South Africa when I was a child (not sure if they still do?) I was so happy. Before Friday and Uzo could settle down and order their drinks I had already ordered my second 60cl bottle of coke. Awesome!

After enjoying a nice plate of Grand Popo’s version of spaghetti bolognaise and my 1.2 litres of coke we set off to complete the remaining 40km of our day’s journey. By now I was feeling pretty confident seeing that we had completed about 80km for the day and my energy levels were still pretty high notwithstanding the effects of the sun. I soon settled back into a good rhythm and was enjoying the ride. Approximately 20km later we reached the same fishing village where I was denied the opportunity to have a well deserved swim in the lake on Day 2. This time however my camera’s batteries were fully charged and I was able to take a few snapshots.

After arriving in Ouidah about 45 minutes later our next task was to find suitable and reasonably priced accommodation for the night. My family and I have stayed over at Casa del Papa (a lovely and relatively well known beach resort in the area, about 20km off the main road) at least 4 or 5 times before. However, we simply needed a cheap place to wash and sleep for the night and I was certainly not in the mood to add another 40km to our overall mileage. We eventually found a “hotel” almost 1km off the main road that provided very basic accommodation. Perfect!

Given the good time within which we polished the day’s distance (less than 5 hours of cycle time) we had enough time left to explore the town. Friday decided to stay behind to do some washing so Uzo and I took the car and drove down towards the beach. Along the way we stopped over at the local python temple – I kid you not! The locals worship pythons (amongst other things) and also seem to be taking out some time to go to church every now and again. For only FCFA1,000 per person (a little over USD2) we were allowed access to the python temple. I was amazed to see the number of pythons casually lying around the “rondawel” like structure (“rondawel” is an Afrikaans word for a small house built in the shape of a circle). Since I do not really like snakes we did not overstay our welcome and soon left for our next stop which is the “Door of no return” memorial site in remembrance of the survivors and victims of the North Atlantic Slave Trade.

As the sun started to set over the horizon we headed back to our “hotel” picked up Friday and went down the road to a local “pub” to have a few drinks and allow Friday to have a proper meal – local style. He was not to be disappointed and after he polished a man sized portion of spaghetti and fish, we went back to the hotel where I cooked a quick meal for Uzo and I before we all went to bed ready to tackle the last two days of our journey.

As I was getting ready to fall into a deep slumber, I couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of sadness realising that our long journey was about to reach its end. Even though I was very tired I did not want to fall asleep and was recounting all the wonderful experiences we have had thus far. Only two more days and one night and then all of this will be over! Unfortunate!

I was also starting to miss my family a lot more than I had since the start of this journey. Wishing we could all be together again I switched off the lights and closed for the day.

Ride for Polio, Day 10 – From Sogakope (Ghana) to Lome (Togo)

Today we started a little later than usual (just before 7am local time) given that our overall distance for the day would not exceed 90km. An easy day overall when compared to the other days but certainly not void of its own interesting challenges.

The main objectives for the day: (1) crossing the border between Ghana and Togo; (2) hook up with my 12 work colleagues somewhere along the road from Sogakope to Lome. Uzo and the gang was scheduled to leave Accra at 6am local time this morning so it would have taken them about 1 hour to reach Sogakope. Therefore I figured that if I leave Sogakope at 7am we should more or less “bump” into one another not too long after I leave Sogakope.

Unlike any of the other days I felt somewhat lethargic this morning and really struggled to get into a comfortable rhythm. Our pace however was not too bad as we managed to maintain about 25km per hour which was good enough for me. The weather also played along as it remained overcast and relatively cool throughout.

Most of the roads we travelled in Ghana thus far were in very good shape and I found the cycling relatively easy (except for the wind when going west). However, the closer we got to Aflao (the border town on the Ghanaian side) the more road works we encountered. On the one hand this is a good thing because the Ghanaian government is doing something good with its money. On the other hand it made the cycling a little more challenging.

Shortly before we reached our first scheduled stop for the morning (after about 40km), we hit a stretch where they (some Chinese company who has a government concession to upgrade Ghana’s road network) were busy resurfacing a stretch of road. Before I knew it, I was cycling on a section where the tar was still wet and within a few metres was covered with little black tar spots all over my body. What a mess! My bike was also covered so it was a real sticky situation. As if that was not enough, we went around the next corner, and there was a truck spraying fresh tar on to the road. We had no choice but to go through this tar shower. Not funny at all. I was completely covered in tar from head to toe. There was no way out!

After being sprayed with tar, we continued for another km or so until we reached a spot where it seemed certain the truck won’t pass by. I was really upset about this little “bump” in the road that we had encountered. Thank goodness for Wet Wipes. While in Ghana I bought Wet Wipes in case we needed it on the way back and this could not have come in more handy. After finishing almost half of the Wet Wipes I managed to clean most of my face (especially around my eyes, nose and mouth). My arms, neck and legs (pretty much all of my body not covered by clothing) was dark brown and it looked like I had just woken up from an extended sun bed spa treatment gone all wrong.

After having a few salti crack biscuits, cheese, dried peaches and chocolate milk I was ready to take on the remaining 40km before we reached the border. From here on the road became increasingly bad with lots of potholes. With 18km to go we hit a gravel road and from here all the way to the border it was very dusty (again) and bumpy. No time to sit down and ease into a comfortable cycle. This was all concentration and continuously looking for the best part of the road to cycle on.

By now we still haven’t bumped into my work colleagues and I figured that they must have missed me somehow and be at the border busy getting their passports stamped. At this point we stopped for a quick drinks break when a text message came through from Uzo. They were already clearing the border and will be waiting for me until I arrive. This was a welcome message and gave me some added motivation to cover the last 11km in record speed. 30 minutes later and with weary legs I reached the border and were now just hoping that we could jump through all the necessary hoops in quick time.

Fortunately for us this is exactly what had happened and 45 minutes later we cleared the border both on the Ghanaian and Togolese sides. All the border officials we met as we came into Ghana a week before were there and were happy to see us again. It was nice to be recognised by them and also to see the amount of goodwill they extended to us.

Five minutes later I eventually caught up with my work colleagues. All 12 of them waiting over an hour just to say goodbye as they were heading back to Lagos. Amazing and truly an inspiring moment for me. After posing for some pictures with them we hugged and waved goodbye except for Uzo.

Uzo promptly unloaded his luggage from the bus and asked whether he could hitch a ride with us back to Lagos. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Really? Cool! Our party has just grown by one person for the remainder of the journey. I was very surprised but also very happy about this development.

Now that we have reached Lome our next objective was to find a cheap hotel where we could stay for the night. Upon our third attempt (off the main road) we found Hotel Aurore, a quaint little compound hidden behind the line of properties facing the main beach boulevard in Lome. Definitely off the beaten track but well worth the decision to try it out. Clean rooms with air conditioner and a shower all 3 rooms for the incredible prize of CFA35,000 (approximately USD75). They also offer free internet access! This was a lot cheaper than what I had anticipated and definitely value for money. Owned by a French expatriate, I also thought that we hit the jackpot as far as food was concerned. The French really knows how to cook and I can’t wait to have dinner.

Another good example of why it was a good thing that we did not book any accommodation in advance!

After a few ice cold beers with Uzo spinning a few yarns, I headed to my room for a marathon 45 minute shower. Tar really sticks and takes lots of patience and focus to get off your body. Now I understand why cyclists shave their legs – LOL!

Tomorrow promises to be a hard slog: (1) it will most likely be the longest of the 5 days going back to Lagos; (2) bad roads in Togo; and (3) looks like the weather is changing and therefore I expect it to be a sunny, hot and humid day. The destination, hopefully, would be Ouidah, a historical little town in Benin and a place I have visited on a number of occasions before. Looking forward to it!

Ride for Polio, Day 7 to 9 – Recharging the batteries and start of the return leg to Lagos

Upon our arrival at the Fiesta Royal Hotel shortly after we arrived in Accra, we were told that the hotel was fully booked. Not even place for a mouse. This was somewhat surprising to me since I would expect 100% occupancy rates for weekends and not on Thursday evenings. Not wanting to cycle much more, we were directed to another hotel just around the corner. Sure enough they had a double room available for Friday and me and within minutes were busy unpacking our stuff in our room. After a quick shower and a beef burger and chips we were off to the Accra Mall which is just opposite the road to go and stretch our legs.

The next morning we were off to meet up with Amanor Dodoo, one of my work colleagues who spent 4 years working in our Lagos office before returning to his hometown about a year ago. No visit to Accra is complete without catching up with Amanor. We were also going to catch up with some of my work colleagues from Lagos. During the weeks running up to the Ride for Polio, one of my work colleagues (Uzo Nwankwo) told me about his plans to visit Accra for a few days in August. We soon discovered that the timing of his planned visit more or less coincided with the few days I planned to spend in Accra. What I did not expect was that it was going to be a group of no less than about 12 of my colleagues. It was such a nice surprise to see them all when we finally hooked up at the Accra Mall on Friday evening – Uzo Nwankwo, Rotimi Adegunloye, Afeez Awowole, Seun Dawodu, Seun Okanlawon, Ogaga Ologe, Ayokunle Owoniyi, Saidi Adebimpe, Osas Atonhegbe, Chika Okoye, Lolade Ajayi, Ayoola Adojutelejan

On Saturday Amanor invited us all to his house and spoilt us with a lovely lunch. There was too much to choose from and I had my first ever taste of proper Ghanaian pepper soup. While I’m not too fond of food that is too spicy I do enjoy the occasional spicy dish. However, the pepper soup was so hot I needed to down a bottle of Nando’s Very Peri-Peri sause just to cool down my lips and mouth from the burning sensation that was making me sweat like a pig and cry like a baby. Friday just laughed at me – apparently Ghanaian pepper soup has nothing on the Nigerian version. I would not like to be the one adjudicating whether or not that is true.

After lunch we returned to our hotel to pack and get an early night’s rest in preparation for the start of the return leg to Lagos early the next morning. Admittedly I did feel somewhat anxious about having to go back but with the thought of knowing that I should have the wind I have faced all the way from Lagos to Accra at my back I fell into a deep sleep.

Early this morning (around 6:30 local time) we left our hotel. The weather, unlike what we have experienced thus far, was near perfect. Cool with light rain. With the wind pushing me from behind I was flying out of Accra and before I knew it I had covered 25km. From Lagos to Accra I stopped every 20km to rest and rehydrate. This morning I did not feel like stopping and even though my left leg was hurting somewhat I had a good rhythm going and did not want it to stop. Eventually after 1 hour 39 minutes and 40 km later, we stopped for breakfast under my umbrella.

We stopped for about 20 minutes after continuing our journey eastwards. Before I knew it we had covered 86km in total and I had not yet even finished the first of my daily three water bottles with hydration mix. That is how perfect the weather was and this gave me a huge confidence boost. I guess now I was reaping the rewards of all the hard work I had done coming into Accra.

After another stop (approximately 30 minutes), we headed off further east to complete the remaining 22km planned for the day. One thought that kept on nagging at me all the way from Accra this morning was that we should just head straight for the border with Lome – total distance from Accra to the border is approximately 190km. This certainly seemed to be an achievable task given the pace we were going. After reminding myself that this is not the Race for Polio, I eventually decided that we would spend the night in Sogakope, approximately 105km outside of Accra, which we reached in a little over 4 hours of cycling time.

What a good decision this turned out to be. After trying two small guest houses, we eventually found an absolute gem of a place right on the bank of the Volta River. This place is another one of those well preserved secrets that I would not want too many other people to know about. Off the beaten track, friendly and warm people, a comfortable room with airconditioner, a panoramic view of the river from the terrace where we would be having our dinner, Wi-Fi internet access, ice cold drinks and a cool breeze all at the incredible prize of USD55. I am so glad that I did not make any arrangements for accommodation before we left Lagos. Apart from the higher than expected hotel costs in Cotonou and Accra, it has served us well to have flexibility built into our overall travel plan.

Once again I realised how blessed and fortunate I am to be alive and well!

Ride for Polio, Day 5 and 6 – Heading for Accra after a well deserved rest

On day 5 I woke up from my 13 hour marathon slumber refreshed and somewhat relieved at the thought that there was not going to be any cycling for the day. In as much as I was eager to get to Accra within 5 days the following thoughts assured me that it was fine to take one day off:

·         Having trained for various endurance events before, I have learnt about the importance of listening when your body tells you to stop

·         I have 14 days in total to make it from Lagos to Accra and back. I have covered almost half of the entire journey in only four days

·         I will have the wind at my back from Accra to Lagos which should make the return trip a lot easier

·         This is the “Ride for Polio” and not the “Race for Polio”

Most of the day was spent reading, sleeping, eating and sitting on the beach missing my family and dreaming dreams about future adventures. For dinner I had the same as the previous night simply because it was so good. For some reason my Ghanaian brothers and sisters cooks jollof rice and chicken better than anyone else (no offence intended to any non-Ghanaian brother or sister).

Just like we did at Grand Popo, we settled our bill the night before we left for Accra. The next morning we were up bright and early and left the Dreamland Beach Resort at 5:30am local time. We reached the main junction that would lead us to Accra a little over an hour after leaving the beach resort with 25km on the clock. It then struck me that we inadvertently added 50km to our entire journey simply because I wanted to sleep over at a beach resort – and I’ll do it again if I get the opportunity.

One thing that bothered me already was the niggles I felt in the tendon area of both my knees. I had the same niggles on day 4 (just ten times worse) so much so that I could hardly gather forward momentum which is the main reason why we decided to rest a day before heading out to Accra. This did not auger well for the remaining 90km we still had to cover for the day especially with the headwind and lots of little rolling hills waiting to be conquered.

After downing two cokes and a fresh pineapple we continued with our journey. We stopped for breakfast after completing 50km. By now the sun was out in full force and the road was filling up with traffic. From here on our main goal was to reach Tema (the main port city of the greater Accra region), another 40km , and then Accra, another 20km after reaching Tema. By now the niggles in my knees were playing up and my bum got increasingly sore. Suffice to say that I was very uncomfortable and had exhausted all my “comfy” sitting positions on the bicycle. Like I’m sure Scott (a good friend I met in Lagos) would’ve said, it felt like I was sitting on a razor blade.

I started making small goals like taking a few sips from my water bottle every 5km and aiming for the top of each hill before I change my seating position. Every 10km for instance I would stop for 1 minute take a quick stretch and then get going again. Every 20km for instance I would stop for 10-20 minutes to eat and drink something. All of this to try and get the kms ticking over.

With 5km before we reached Tema my legs all of a sudden just gave in and I found it extremely painful to get forward motion. I found this to be incredibly frustrating. I wasn’t tired and did not feel dehydrated at all. In fact, I passed urine fairly regularly and it had a good colour which meant that my hydration strategy for the day worked well (apologies for all the graphics). It was only my legs that did not want to cooperate.

Even though I felt like it, giving up was never going to be an option. After having a moment with myself, I “crawled” into Tema and stopped at the first street side vendor I could find. There also happened to be a big tree that gave plenty of shade which was exactly what I needed. At this point I felt very sorry for myself so I sent my wife a text message hoping she would do the same. She simply told me (like any good wife should), to rest for a few minutes and get on with it. I laid down on a small wooden bench and dozed off for about 45 minutes.

She was right! Surprisingly, most of the pain had gone away when I got going again and we made good progress towards our end goal. With 10km to go I made a quick stop to have another snack and a drink. Once we went over the next hill I saw a familiar site – it was the control tower of the Kotoko International Airport. YES! YES! YES! I raised my arms into the air (almost coming off my bike in the process) with the realisation that we have made it. Another 115km for the day in a little over 6 hours in the saddle. Total distance from Lagos to Accra, including the two detours, amounting to 549km.

I was overcome with joy! I have made it! Finally!

Ten minutes later we arrived at our hotel, checked in and ordered a double cheese burger with chips. Twelve minutes later it arrived at our room and I think it took me about 3 or 4 minutes to wolf it down.

I am so relieved and happy!

Ride for Polio, Day 4 – Another tough day and some valuable lessons learnt

We have covered approximately 320km since we left Lagos and with an estimated 122km planned for day 4 I was eager to get going again. With Day 3 now firmly behind us, I was looking forward to an easy and relatively quick ride to our destination for the day given that we were not going to cross any borders. But that was not going to be the case.

Shortly after waking up at the Keta Emancipation Beach Resort, we paid Joe Ghanaian Cedi 46 (approximately USD30) all inclusive and headed off to the church about 2km away where we had parked our car the previous night. This was based on advice the previous day from our good Samaritan friend, Bright, that it would be better to park our vehicle at the local church compound as security might be an issue. He assured us however that the local pastor is a very good friend of his and that he won’t mind to help us out. And right he was.

The pastor, an elderly gentleman, was very friendly and extremely inquisitive as to why we were undertaking the journey from Lagos to Accra and back. After explaining the reason to him he left to attend to his daily chores.

After arriving at the church we cooked breakfast on my cadac gas stove before heading out to the town of Ada. On the menu - instant mash potatoes, baked beans, carrots, peas and tuna.  Friday and Bright very kindly insisted to wash the dishes which allowed me to rub some sun block lotion on my body, mix my hydration drinks for the day and get dressed. While all this was going on, an elderly local resident, referred to by Bright as a “madman” (I must admit he did appear to be somewhat harassed and delirious), preached fire and brimstone down from heaven when he saw me. I must have looked like a ghost or something. May God bless his soul!

When Bright heard that we were planning to head to Ada, he told us that he is actually a native from Ada and that our ride for the day will no doubt be a very easy one. After all, the total journey will be no longer than about 67km, this coming from a man who travels between Keta and Ada on a fairly regular basis. First lesson for the day – local knowledge is good but GPS is typically more accurate. I was going to make the same mistake a few more times later in the day.

After leaving Keta (an hour later than planned because it was going to be an "easy" day), we arrived at an adjacent town approximately 20km down the road. By this time I had settled into a nice rhythm and felt pretty strong. All of a sudden I saw a woman selling generous looking pineapples next to the road. About  100 metres later the urge to devour one of those pineapples got the better of me and we made an unscheduled stop. Friday bought two pineapples and the lady very kindly agreed to peel and cut one of the pineapples into pieces for me to enjoy as a mid-morning snack. WOW! One thing that has to be said about fruit in tropical West Africa – they don’t come any better than this.

The next 40km went by remarkably quick. We had now turned into a northerly direction which meant that for the first time on this trip there was no head wind and I was able to maintain a speed of approximately 25-30km per hour. This did my confidence the world of good. Then all of a sudden when we completed almost 65km I hit the wall once again and realised that our journey was not going to be as short as Bright made us believe earlier in the morning. The thought going through my mind was that I was most probably going to have to repeat the distance I have just completed for the day thus far. By now I was already a spent force. It was almost mid-day and with the sun beating us with all of its glory I as unsure as to how I was going to recover from this psychological setback?

We found a shady street side kiosk and asked the lady if we could rest there for a while. I grabbed the remaining pineapple we bought earlier the morning and I started peeling it with the kitchen knife I had brought with us from Lagos. Within minutes the pineapple was history and already I started feeling better. After taking a 20 minutes power nap on the cool concrete floor of the kiosk and some kind encouragement from the lady and her husband who own the kiosk, I felt ready to take on the second half of the journey.

About 12km later we reached a town called Sogakope at the Lower Volta Bridge. This was yet another awesome sight to behold and one of those precious moments that makes a journey such as this very special and worthwhile. I took some pictures before we made a quick stop at the local bank to change some foreign currency (we were running low on cedis and needed to replenish our cash).

At this point lesson 1 had not yet fully sunk in as I asked another local how far we had to go to reach Ada. He told me that we only had about 15km to get to Ada and then another 5km or so before we would reach Big Ada (somehow the fact that there was a Big Ada and an Ada did not register on the map I studied before we left). How wrong this estimate finally turned out to be. The 5km from the main junction to Big Ada turned out to be 25km and not 5km. Silly me!

By now we were heading straight towards Accra on the main expressway and traffic started to pick up. The road also became longer, a lot straighter and with that more monotony. I really had to concentrate to ensure my focus was not too much on my garmin because then it seems like it takes so much longer for the km to tick over.  Then out of nowhere we met a lady next to the expressway who sold watermelons. I did not need any invitation to pull my brakes and engage her in negotiations. I haven’t even paid for the watermelon when my mouth was filled with the most delicious and sweetest watermelon I have tasted in a long time. I finished the entire watermelon by myself and immediately felt refreshed and ready to take on the rest of the day’s journey.

Lesson number two – there is absolutely no substitute for the goodness produced by mother earth. Yes there are lots of good and effective food and energy supplements on the market, but nothing beats freshly cut tropical fruit when you are tired, hungry and thirsty.

We eventually reached Ada which essentially is a junction area where you turn off the main expressway to go to Big Ada, our ultimate destination for the day. With lesson 1 still not learnt, I asked a street vendor at the Ada junction how far I had to go before I reached Big Ada. His advice, 9km, which turned out to be about 25km. Silly me!

And now for lesson number three – it is ok not to book accommodation in advance but at least call to confirm that the hotel or beach resort is still in business. Yes indeed! You have guessed it. When we were almost at our final destination for the day, a local resident informed us that the Manet Paradise was not open for business as it was undergoing some much needed refurbishment. HuHH? You’ve got to be joking!!! I really had to keep it together so as to not lose my cool at this point because by now my body was telling me that it can carry on no further. My legs were hurting real bad and I guess the mileage of the previous three days’ cycling was starting to show its effects.

Fortunately for us, there was another “beach resort” only about 2 or 3km down the road and when we got there we were pleasantly surprised by the facilities. Clean rooms, en-suite bathroom with a shower and toilet and very important a mosquito net. At a modest USD20 per room per night I did not hesitate to book two rooms and also tell the owner that we will spend two nights. I definitely needed the rest and was quite happy to delay our arrival in Accra by one day.

After two ice cold beers and a very delicious hot plate of food (jollof rice, coleslaw and chicken) I took a shower and went straight to bed. Sleep never felt so good before!

Ride for Polio, Day 3 – Three countries and two border crossings

“Three countries and two border crossings” does have a nice ring to it but in reality we covered only about 110km. Today’s leg started at Grand Popo in the Republic of Benin, passing through the Republic of Togo and straight into Ghana. Also, today was the longest (in terms of time spent on the road) and most difficult of the three days since we left Lagos on Saturday. Not only did we lose unnecessary time at the Togo/Ghana border, but our best efforts in maintaining a good pace was thwarted by lots of road construction in Togo, a ridiculously strong head wind after crossing into Ghana and a sore bum. Suffice to say that I was very relieved when we eventually reached our destination for the day.

We left Grand Popo shortly before 7am and because the beach resort where we had stayed for the night would not wake up until about 7:30am we decided the previous night to settle our bill and leave without having breakfast. I did not have a very good night’s rest and felt a little sick when I got onto my bicycle. Thankfully that sick feeling slowly died away after about 30 or 40 minutes into the ride.

We reached the Benin/Togo border about an hour after we left Grand Popo only to find that it had just opened up for the day’s business so to speak as it has just turned 7o’clock. We had crossed a time zone and effectively left Grand Popo at 6am Togo time. Had we left an hour earlier (which is something I had considered doing) we would have waited an hour before we could have attempted to cross the border (not that it would have had any significant impact on our journey for the day as a whole). What astonished me more was the amount of goodwill by all the border officials as soon as they saw the t-shirt I was wearing and realised that I am a South African. One border official, in perfect broken English, even asked me how our Grandfather is doing – with reference to Madiba. The end result was that we crossed both sides of the border shared by Benin and Togo in a record breaking time of 20 minutes. I felt like I won a major prize and could not help but smile from ear to ear as I reflected upon our experience at the border between Nigeria and Benin. We were not going to be as fortunate at the border between Togo and Ghana...

The ride through Togo did not start off the way I had hoped. Soon after crossing the border we saw a big sign that said “DEVIATION” and you don’t need to be able to speak French to understand what that means. Yes, for the next 10km I had to cycle on a gravel road. Gravel roads are generally not known for their smooth surfaces so this is where I first used my front and rear suspension on my bicycle. However, it wasn’t so much the uneven road surface that was the issue, rather the headwind relentlessly blew dust particles into my eyes, nostrils and mouth (note to self: next time make sure you bring a dust mask and proper riding glasses). This was real energy sapping stuff.

Eventually we reached tar road again and I was able to get into a comfortable groove. And then it started all over again. 15km after reaching the tar road I saw another big “DEVIATION”. For the next almost 18km we had to negotiate a gravel road worse than the one our Togo journey started on. A stronger wind, more traffic and more dust was the story of this section. I did not enjoy it one bit and constantly had to say to myself that it would soon be over. After all how much road construction can any company be busy with at any given point in time? Eventually we reached a roundabout that signalled our entrance into Lome, the capital of Togo, and with it the hopes that we will reach the border with Ghana very soon. About 30 minutes later we stopped at the Togo side of the border, had our passports stamped and crossed into the Ghanaian side.

It is here that I have witnessed the concept of segregation of duties, manual systems and Africa time taken to a whole new level. Not that I was anxious for time or in any hurry to get going again. A little over 2 hours after we crossed into the Ghanaian side of the border we got given the green light to go again. I guess this is evidence of a system that was created with the best of intentions some years back and that no one has since asked whether or not there could be a more efficient way for things to be done. Besides it is not in a bureaucrat’s nature to ask “why” or “how can we make things a little more efficient”. Credit must be given to the Ghanaian officials though – not once did anyone do so much as to hint that they wanted any bribe and not once did we feel that they acted in an inappropriate manner. Bravo!

Now that we had our two planned border crossings for the day behind us I was excited to push ahead to our next destination which according to my calculations was only about 35km away. I also thought that after having covered the tough stretches through Togo the remainder of the day would be a walk in the park. Ever the optimist!

After about 15km from crossing the border into Ghana I started feeling dehydrated and fatigued and my mind started playing all sorts of tricks on me. It is not a good place to be in and any person who has competed in endurance events will know that this is the proverbial “hitting the wall” stage. The cure – keep on going until you have broken through the wall (which is like having to take bad medicine). This is the first time also that I started comparing the Ride for Polio with some of the toughest marathons I have run before.

By now I have fully grasped how powerful effective advertising could be. Huhh? Yes, once again I must tip my hat to Coca Cola. Almost every 5 km I would see a Coca cola sign board – this in rural Ghana. Distribution/Advertising is by far one of the most common, most costly and most difficult challenges for any fast moving consumer goods company in this part of the world. Yet Coca Cola seems to have gotten this covered better than anyone else. This did not help me in the state that I was in. I will say it again – there is nothing better than having an ice cold Coke to get your systems going again and every time I would see one of these sign boards it would be as if my legs go numb and that all I could think about is an ice cold coke! Unfortunately what happens when you drink a coke your blood sugar levels become more erratic and therefore unless you have a coke almost every 15 minutes your sugar levels are going to drop into the deepest abyss.

I eventually broke through the wall and with approximately 7 km to go we reached the edge of the largest lagoon in the Volta Delta region. By far the most beautiful sight I have seen since we left Lagos. This was also going to be the toughest part of the day’s ride. From here the road is flanked on the left by the Atlantic ocean and on the right by the lagoon. I was unable to see the other side of the lagoon and with the relatively sizeable waves created by the strong wind I could have been forgiven for mistaking the lagoon to be part of the ocean. Because there was no tree cover or buildings on either side of the road the full force of the head wind hit me and I could cycle no faster than about 8-9 km per hour. I can run faster than that. Embarrassing!  I did not really care and all that I could think of was getting to our final destination.

Eventually after having to dig real deep, we arrived and a “good Samaritan” on a small motor bike spotted us from afar and agreed to show us the road to the Keta Emancipation Beach Resort (pretty interesting name). When we eventually arrived at the “beach resort” I had to force myself not to look too surprised at what I saw. There was no resort. Only a few make shift beach shelters each one fitted inside with a double bed, mattress, two pillows and a mosquito net. That was it! No concrete floor, no electricity, no running water, no nothing. However, at this point I did not have it in me to cycle one inch further and after asking the owner (an elderly guy whose name is Joe, and I am sure he smoked a few joints too many by the time we greeted him) if they have cold drinks and food available, it did not take me long to agree a price and unpack our bags for the night. Our decision to overnight at this “resort” turned out to be a very good one.

Joe is a very friendly guy and was only too happy to demonstrate his cooking prowess by dishing up a wonderful plate of jollof rice, cooked cabbage (a personal favourite) and fish freshly caught from the ocean an hour or so before we arrived. After taking a quick “bath” using a bucket of water and a bar of soap (in a little open air shelter right on the beach ) I snuggled into my little hut and fell into a deep sleep. Truly wonderful and refreshing! The next morning I woke up shortly after 5am. After going about my morning business (local style) on the rocks overlooking the ocean I was ready to get going again and all the pain of yesterday was forgotten.

The third day, despite how tough it was, is going to stick in my memory for a very long time!

Ride for Polio, Day 2 - Republic of Benin, Cotonou to Grand Popo

After yesterday’s marathon ride I have had to readjust my attitude towards the journey I plan to complete. Yesterday’s ride was not only the longest I have ever ridden in one go, it was also going to be the first time ever that I have to do it all over again the very next day. There was no mistake – I was seriously apprehensive to start day 2 and was already starting to question the reasons for taking on this journey.

We set off at 7am this morning after enjoying a quick breakfast in the very, very expensive 3 star hotel in Cotonou. There was a lot of cloud cover and a slight breeze which made for a good start weather wise. In no time we reached the outskirts of Cotonou and came across an accident scene. On what seems to be a busy intersection under repair, a big truck overturned and was laying upside down on the lower embankment on the side of the road. This obviously caught my attention so I turned around to record a video clip with the video camera mounted on my helmet. The next moment a police officer approached me wanting to know what I am doing. After telling him about the Ride for Polio and kindly offering him a T-Shirt he was happy to wave me goodbye.

After about 90 minutes into the ride I came across three other cyclists who were about to set off in the same direction I was going. I promptly stopped and after introducing myself to them they decided to join me for a “short” warm-up cycle before they start their real workout for the morning. Within the next 10 minutes or so our group grew by about 4 or 5 other cyclists who were all going for the same weekly cycling event. After another 10 minutes we stopped and hooked up with their coach who arrived on a small motor bike (great coach – I always thought it would be better if the coach cycles with them). It turns out he is Benin’s national cycling champion and that they were all getting ready for a race that was going to be held later in the morning.

After handing out a t-shirt to each of them and posing for some pictures they agreed to cycle with me for the next 10km after which they were going to start their race. The 10km turned into 15km when we eventually reached a toll gate where their assistant coach (driving a Landie – also not cycling) was waiting to signal the start of the race. Before saying good bye their coach left us his contact details promising that they will meet me at the same spot on my way back and cycle with me all the way to the Seme border crossing. Awesome!

We averaged about 25-28km per hour while cycling to the toll gate and I felt like a hero because I thought I gave them all a good run for their money. Little did I know that they were just toying with me because after about 20 minutes after leaving them at the toll gate, they came speeding past me with shouts of “äu revoir” and “bon voyage”. It did not take them a long time to disappear over the next hill. I did not see them again for the rest of the day. Embarrassing!

After reaching what seemed to have been the mid-way point for the day we stopped for a quick snack and another ice cold coke at a little make shift “restaurant” right next to the express way (it basically provided us with good shade). God bless the maker of Coca Cola, the best non-alcoholic drink in the world – there is nothing that refreshes quite like an ice cold coke (free advert!). I had a can of sweet corn for some extra carbs.

Shortly after our mid-way snack we came across a little dirt road that veered off to the side of the expressway. At the end of the road, on the horizon, I caught a glimpse of a massive lake in the middle of nowhere. My curiosity got the better of me so off we went. After a short decent and a trip through the local village I reached the edge of the water. Desperately wanting to go for a quick dive, I eventually decided against it for two key reasons: (a) it did not smell fresh (probably the local sewer outlet); and (b) there were too many spectators and I did not think it appropriate to parade my assets to complete strangers. As disappointing it may have been the trip down to the water side was well worth the effort.

The last 20km of today’s ride was pretty tough. The prevailing head wind all of a sudden picked up a few knots and I really struggled to maintain a reasonable pace. The bigger challenge at this point however, was my bottom. After yesterday’s ride I was feeling pretty weary and even though I felt strong for most of today, the normal consequences of spending up to 6 hours in the saddle started to show. Hano, a running buddy from Lagos, aptly coined a phrase which rung in my ears while I was chipping away at the last few miles for the day – “comfortably numb”. Yes that is exactly what I started to experience. I never thought one can feel such pain in that part of your anatomy. Otherwise I was feeling great and unlike yesterday I maintained a good level of hydration throughout the day.

The last 10km felt like it was never going to end but eventually I saw the ocean and realised that we were almost at our final destination for the day. Unfortunately I did not know where exactly “Awale Plage” was or what kind of land mark to look out for. All I knew was that theoretically it should be situated along the express way. When we got to what seemed like one of the final street side “restaurants” I stopped to ask for directions. It so happened that the owner of this little shop is also the owner of the “Awale Plage” and that it was only about 1km down the road. When we got there we could not miss the larger than life signage which very clearly indicated that we have reached our tropical oasis for the day.

Awale Plage is owned by a French expatriate who has probably been here for most of his life, as is the case with most expatriates in this part of the world with investments of this nature. It’s a wonderful beach resort littered with big palm trees that are pregnant with fresh coconuts. The air-conditioned rooms are very basic, have running water and are clean. There is a nice big swimming pool and a restaurant with roof covering. As I am typing away at this blog (18:19), there is a cool sea breeze blowing and I can hear the waves crashing. What a wonderful little oasis in a place not frequented by most world travellers. This is as they say, one of the world’s best kept secrets!

Ride for Polio Day 1 - Ikoyi to Cotonou

Wow! What a day! 125 km from Ikoyi to Cotonou and a little under 900 km to go.

We started today's ride on scedule art 4am and reached Badagry (first major milestone after 67km) just after 7am, almost 3 hours ahead of schedule. I cycled in the dark for most of the way to Badagry and then stopped for about 30 minutes for a well deserved morning snack.

We reached the Seme border post a little over two hours later. We cleared the border post without much hassle following which we had a lunch break on the Benin side of the border. This was a very interesting experience. A little shack right next to the road with a freshly slaughtered pig hanging just to the right of the entrance. I was of course not hungry but Friday could not wait to get his hands dirty. At least he enjoyed the food while I was nibbling away at my peach fruit roll and nuts.

From the border to Cotonou was very tough and it felt like I was running the last 5 km of a marathon. Not only did the sun came out in full force, but I was also facing a very strong head wind. This slowed me down and I struggled to maintain a good pace. With about 15 km to go I spotted a number of women selling sugar cane. This was like manna from heaven and I promptly pulled over and bought a few. While I was chewing away at my sugar cane "candy stick" I missed the bike path as we were approaching one of only two toll gates in Benin between the Nigeria and Togo borders. Suddenly we were stopped by an army official who quizzed us in French. "non Francais! non Francais!" was all I could get out only for him to switch over to Anglais. After exchanging a few ideas he let us off the hook. Little did he know that I was only too happy that he stopped us because by now I was pulling strain.

With about 5 km to go (I thought we still had about 20km to go) I was really feeling bad and just had to stop. We found a little street restaurant where this friendly lady allowed us to sit in the shade of her restaurant. She was really kind. Friday walked down the street to go and find me an ice cold coke which was exactly what I needed. While waiting I asked on of the other customers whether he knew where our hotel for the evening is. Much to my surprise (and delight) he told me that we only had about 4km to go. I was stoked and all of a sudden had new energy.

7km later we reached our destination - Novotel Orisha, Cotonou. Lovely 3 star (at USD250 per room per night) beach hotel very close to the harbour. When we got to the room and I looked in the mirror I realised why everybody stared so much at me while I was in the lobby of the hotel. I was filthy. Took a nice long shower, a quick power nap and now I am typing away at this blog.

Friday went for a "quick 2 1/2 hour run" and looks in great shape. He probably needed to run his guts out after having had to drive 125km at an average speed of 20km per hour. I would! Well done to him. He is a real jewel and I am very blessed to have him work for us. He was a great support today and really knows how to be a support vehicle operator!

So we are about to go for a "lekker" big proteien filled dinner before we'll prepare for tomorrow and go to bed. Hope to get some good sleep before we start tomorrow.

Plan for tomorrow is to start at 7am and then take a leisurely cycle down to Grand Popo. This is a relatively unknown but popular beach resort area that I am hoping to explore tomorrow afternoon. We will probably do no more than about 70-80km tomorrow which is great because I felt a little dehydrated and worn out after today's cycle. Feeling good now after drinking my one litre rehydration mix.

Hope to update you again tomorrow evening!

Sleep well and have a great Sunday!

Scott Ryan is a legend!

While I was finalising my inventory list for the trip I realised that there were a couple of items I needed to get before I depart on 20 August (small sport video camera, all sorts of food supplements and spare parts such as tyres, chain, inner tubes, chain cleaning solution, etc.). None of these items are freely available in Nigeria and if they are I was not entirely sure where I would have been able to source all of these on such short notice and at a market related price. Consequently, I had to rely on finding someone who would be travelling to Nigeria before I depart and who would be willing to buy all the things that I need and to bring it to Lagos for me.

Fortunately one of my dear friends, Scott Ryan, is currently on vacation with his family in Europe. Two nights ago when I asked him to help me out he did not even blink an eyelid before he agreed to assist. Not only does he have to sacrifice a greater than usual amount of weight in his luggage when he returns to Lagos next week, he also had to sacrifice a full day of his personal family vacation and put up the initial cash (which should be well over a USD1,000 if not more) to pay for everything on my behalf (all to be reimbursed off course). (I wonder how he is going to carry the spare tyres on the plane - lol!)

This is truly amazing and I tip my hat to you! Thank you very much for your selfless support!

Wheelchair pledges

Since my first blog on July 17 the response from everyone pledging their support has been overwhelming and very encouraging. Thank you to everybody who has pledged a wheelchair and more! I really appreciate your support.

The plan is for your pledges to be paid directly into the "Wheelchairs for Nigeria" bank account as soon as I have successfully completed the journey from Lagos to Ghana and Back.

I will communicate the relevant banking details in due course.

Please continue to spread to word so that we can maximise the amount of pledges for this worthy cause!

Ghana covered, Togo and Benin to go!

It is now only 17 days before the start of my bicycle ride from Lagos to Ghana and back and I am getting more and more excited as the count down continues. I got my Ghanaian visa two days ago and my visa application for Togo will be submitted this morning. The Togolese high commission does not usually  take a long time to process visa applications so I expect to have it in my passport before the end of this week. That will leave me with Benin before all my papers are ready to enable me cross all the border postings.

Friday, support vehicle driver, got his Nigerian passport last week. Since Nigeria is a member state of ECOWAS (Economic Communities of West African States), Friday won't be needing any visas. Additionally we should be getting all the other mandatory papers for the car (Ecowas Browncard, international insurance, international driver's licence, etc.) next week.

A lot of bureaucracy-yes! Lots of paperwork and a lot of manual intervention-yes. So therefore I still expect a fair amount of wahala (Nigerian for "trouble") when I get to the respective border crossings but that is all part of the fun of the trip.

As for the other preparations all seems to be going according to plan. On saturday I joined a group of 9 other cycle fanatics for a 81km training ride. I did better than what I have expected and felt remarkably well after we finished. The challenge will now be to do it back to back for 5 days and then all over again. It's definitely going to be a tough experience.

My inventory list is also nearly complete so this weekend I will start to buy what I can buy locally. For the rest of the stuff I will have to rely on people I know who are going to travel into Lagos during the next two weeks.

I can't wait to start!