A Motorcycle Odyssey-Cape Town To Singapore

By Malcolm Taylor and Julian Taylor

Be inspired by the travel adventures of four intrepid motorcyclists who rode their Kawasaki KLR 650’s from their home town-Cape Town (South Africa) to Singapore, combining their own sense of adventure with a fundraiser for the Red Cross War Memorial Children’s Hospital in Cape Town, South Africa. Despite many challenges and nail biting moments, they achieved their goal, covering 17 countries, 3 continents, (Africa, Europe, and Asia) and over 23,000 km. in just over 4 months, with many a hilarious moment to keep the reader amused. A unique aspect of the trip was that the group was comprised of a father, son, and daughter, and a friend who completed the quartet of bikers. Read on to find out what would move a man to marry his sister! Even if you are not a motorbike rider you will enjoy this book. You will however need a sense of fun, and a sense of adventure.

Because this is a travel book, we chose to include many photos. While regular Kindle viewers will not have the full advantage of colour, the pictures are clear. Other tablets or readers will give you that bonus.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Malcolm Taylor
• Release date: Apr 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463030349

Malcolm Taylor

Mal Taylor is a chiropractor, practicing in Cape Town, South Africa. He graduated from CMCC in Toronto in 1975, is married with two sons and two daughters. He still rides the same motorbike that he and his son and daughter rode on their epic trip up through Africa to Cairo and beyond from Turkey to Singapore. His interests include cycling, running, hiking and music, and just enjoying his four grandchildren. He attributes his sense of adventure to his Norwegian roots.

Book preview

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART ONE - Pre Trip Build Up

PART TWO - Cape Town, South Africa to

Cairo, Egypt

(Day 1-Day 68)

PART THREE - Turkey to Nepal

(Day 69-Day 109)

PART FOUR - Thailand, Malaysia, and

Singapore

(Day 70-Day 127)

PART FIVE - Epilogue

PART SIX - Summaries Of The Four

Bikers

PART SEVEN - Acknowledgement and

Thanks

SPECIAL THANKS TO CALIBRE BRAND SOLUTIONS FOR THE COVER DESIGN

Quotes:

Life is not a dress rehearsal (Rose Tremain)

Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one

less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

(Robert Frost)

COPYRIGHT 2013 Malcolm Taylor

All photographs displayed remain the property of the author and may not be copied or distributed in any form.

SO…I MARRIED MY SISTER

By MALCOLM TAYLOR and JULIAN TAYLOR

December 30th 2011-May 5th 2012

PART ONE - Pre Trip Build Up

As with any trip, it doesn’t start on the day you leave. It begins months before, when, typically, a plan is hatched in a moment of madness. This plan was hatched by Julian Taylor, my son, who was inspired by a friend, Andrew Vaughn, who decided that rather than fly back to Cape Town, South Africa, from Vancouver, where he was studying, he and his friend would ride their motorbikes. They flew their Kawasaki KLR 650s from Vancouver to Korea, and had quite an adventure riding across Russia, the Middle East, and then down through Africa.

Despite the problems Andrew and his friend encountered, Julian thought a similar route would be great fun. He and his friend, Nic Key, let their imaginations run wild and began a recruitment drive, which included Julian’s sister-my daughter Shannon, who had ridden a motorbike since high school. My unbridled enthusiasm for their proposed trip was met with the comment: Would you like to come? Thinking it was just a generic comment that demanded a reciprocal answer, I repeated that I’d love to do a trip like that. He insisted, No, do you want to come? Now I understood where this conversation was going! It took about a nanosecond to sum up about a thousand factors, and give him an enthusiastic, YES. With that minor detail sorted out, I needed to be brought up to speed as to just how far their planning was, and to start adding my two cents’ worth.

Thinking more about the route had us concurring that perhaps it would be better to look at starting from our home town, Cape Town, where we were familiar with the infrastructure, and could get all the bike preparations done, and the bugs sorted out, rather than in an unfamiliar place. We then rethought the route, looking for a suitable destination, from where the bikes could easily be shipped home. Pouring over the maps, our eyes were drawn more and more to the smooth curve that could be made by going up through Africa on the east side to Cairo, and then around the Middle East countries of Jordan, Syria, and Turkey, working our way through Iran, which we had always found to be a fascinating country. That was the region of Persia of old. The natural flow would take us through Pakistan, India, Nepal, and over to the Far East-Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Malaysia and finally Singapore. We warmed to that idea more and more. Four months was how much time we were going to be able to give to the ride, and the distance was looking like about 25,000 km. It seemed do-able, but would not leave much time for loafing around. The choice would be-a shorter distance, but cover the countries at our leisure, or achieve the goal of Cape Town to Singapore, and fit it into the time we had. This is what we chose, and just had to do our best.

As time went on, it became evident that Nic was not going to able to join this adventure, and the question was: Should we recruit a fourth person, or keep it as a family affair? Four seemed to be a good number, as there would always be safety in the event of one person sustaining an injury. One could stay with them, while the remaining two could go for help. Four was still an easy enough number in terms of decision making, and logistical things like accommodation, dividing up food packs, and any other two for the price of one specials. Two per room in a hotel is more economical and efficient than odd numbers. Four also became a number that worked for how many months that we felt we could take off work, and still be able to complete the distance required.

Who would be a suitable person to break into the family dynamic, would bring skills that would augment the group, and would be at that stage of life where he or she could spare the time off? One friend that had expressed an interest was unable to leave his young family at that crucial time, and so, with the agreement of Julian and Shannon, my long-standing friend John Byett was asked if he was interested. I don’t know if he took much more than a nanosecond to think about it, but he gave us a resounding YES as well.

This all happened around the beginning of 2010, Julian at that stage having moved to Johannesburg to begin his teaching career in science, and Shannon was finishing her honours degree at Stellenbosch University in biokinetics. Having worked as a chiropractor for 33 years, with very few holidays, I was ripe and ready for an adventure, and John, too, felt a need to reconnect with his adventurous side after many years of teaching, lecturing and in industry.

We bandied about various causes with whom we could connect to raise funds for, and eventually approached the fund raising arm of the Red Cross War Memorial Children’s Hospital in Rondebosch, Cape Town. The Children’s Hospital Trust had a proven track record as a competent, motivated, dedicated and trustworthy organization, and a partnership was forged with them.

Ideas for a name for our trip were tossed around, until we liked the ring of 4bikes4singapore. In order to make others aware of the trip, we developed a blog, thanks to the assistance of an online education company that my son-in-law co-owns, called Get Smarter and when any special events happened, we would report on it, and began to reach out to family and friends, and publicized our blog on Facebook. This added credence to our trip, and let readers see that we were not just a bunch of fly-by-nights, who talked big, but had no action. Through this means, we were able to connect with sponsors for various bits of equipment that we needed. Unfortunately, it proved impossible to get an overall sponsor to cover the costs of the trip, despite the offers we gave of coverage their company would receive, and so, we had to be prepared to fund the trip ourselves.

After much research, we decided on Kawasaki KLR 650’s as the bike of choice, because of its ruggedness, simplicity, being reasonably cost effective, being able to handle both on-road and off-road conditions, and if we all had the same type of bike, we would be better able to deal with any repairs that might come up, and cut our odds as far as carrying spares was concerned. One by one, we purchased our beasts, John opting for a 2008 green mamba, mine a 2007 gray, black, and gold demon, and Jules and Shan, 2005 and 2004 respectively, red/ maroon rascals. This was the first concrete step where we put our money where our mouths were. We needed to buy our kit, and learn some off-road riding skills, which we did through a course offered in Cape Town, and then tried to get away to a nearby farm for some practice riding, and we all managed a long distance trip to get a taste as to how our derrieres would feel on such a long journey, and to face the elements of wind, rain and cold.

The internet made researching so simple, and throughout most of 2011, via websites, we were able to find out what sort of documentation would be required, and through other traveller’s adventures, we got a taste of what could be expected on our journey. We found out about roads, border crossings, ferry, shipping and air freight options in places where we would not be able to travel by road. We researched accommodation, what and how we would eat on the trip, where the trouble spots were, and many other valuable bits of information. We all opted for soft luggage systems as opposed to the hard aluminium panniers. Each one had their countries to research with various categories until we could put together a pretty comprehensive summary of our needs, and draw up a guesstimate of expenses. Various individuals and companies contributed generously to equipping us and our bikes, and providing leaflets, brochures, posters, caps, T-shirts, car decals, crash bars and bash plates for the bikes, helmet mounted communication devices, solar battery chargers for our cell phones and cameras, and even a netbook computer. We really felt that we had a solid base of supporters behind us, without which a trip like this would never succeed. The date of departure was set for Friday, December 30th, 2011 at 7:30 a.m. from the Red Cross Children’s Hospital.

Three weeks before leaving, my younger daughter, Ashlea married our absolutely favourite son-in-law, Robert Paddock (As of 2012 that is!). There had been so much to plan for that as well, and both Shan and Jules who had been living in East London and Johannesburg respectively, were involved in the wedding ceremony, so their thinking and emotions had to be running every which way. We had had months of the planning of these two incredible events running simultaneously. It was also an occasion when my sister and brother-in-law, Valmay and Art Barkey had come from Canada, especially for the wedding and were able to be on the scene when we left. This was very special.

Two weeks before departure, we had a public holiday, and we had chosen that day and the next, to do a trial run, testing our bikes with a light load, and with our helmet mounted radio devices and cameras. Before leaving, we had lined up a photo shoot to use for various press releases. As we were about to head out, Julian announced that he could not find the key for his bike. We searched as thoroughly as we could, but it was not to be found. We laughed at the thought of the ride being renamed 3Bikes4Singapore. It just did not have a good ring to it! After the photos with only three bikes, we returned home and retraced our steps until we found the key hiding under the invoice for our bike service. In all the excitement of the day before, we had got out of the usual routine of placing it in the key drawer.

We had decided to carry tents and other camping equipment on our four month trip, in the event that we would be camping out quite often. At least it gave us a second option if we found, during our travels, that we were unable to find accommodation for the night. And so, after a beautiful day of riding out to Kleinmond via the coastal road, we camped on the front lawn of our friends, who live on a farm near Grabouw. It was great fun having a braai with them and sharing the excitement of our adventure. Retiring to the tents, though it was a trial run, was not exactly roughing it, as they provided us with some soft mattresses. The following day, John led us all around the farm practising some off road skills, as he had more experience than any of the rest of us, and we had lots to learn.

A few days before leaving, a psychologist friend kindly did a Myers-Briggs personality assessment on each of us. We realized that being together for over four months would bring inevitable relationship challenges, and this proved invaluable for us to understand ourselves, and the differences we each brought to the party, and to try and think of the differences as being a strength, rather than a source of competition and conflict.

The bikes were serviced and fully prepped, with new tires, batteries, cables as required, and, we thought, beefing up of our shock absorbers. The countdown was on. Despite the many hours of planning, there were the usual last minute frantic moments, such as the crash bars not fitting properly on the last day, some of the visas having been held up, and finding out only a couple of days before leaving, that we were required to get our Ethiopian visas from South Africa-it could not be done at the border as we had previously been told.

The night before leaving, our lounge was littered with kit, while everything was being divvied up, and we compared what the others were bringing along. Each had a set of tools, without overlapping the various items, and we were carrying a spare chain and sprockets, oil filters, spare cables, good old duct tape, cable ties, gasket sealer, and a million and one things we might need. (After the trip, it is interesting to see what could have been left behind.) At 3:00 a.m. it was time to catch a few short moments of sleep. But how could one sleep with the prospect of such a launch into the unknown about to take place in four and a half hours’ time.

PART TWO – Cape Town, South Africa To

Cairo, Egypt (Day 1 – Day 68)

Day 1-Friday December 30th 2011

Cape Town to Beaufort West (South Africa) 464 km.

We rose and started our packing, a barely suppressed energy filling the house. The press wanted to interview us for a slot on national television news, so it was important to be there on time. The old saying in the game of tag was ready or not, here I come and that was exactly how we felt.

What a heart warming moment it was to see all our wonderful friends and family who were sharing our excitement, gathered in front of the hospital. It was a glorious sunny Cape Town summer morning, and the TV interviewer asked me what time we had got up that morning. What time did we get to bed is a more relevant question, I commented. Soon it was time for the final hugs, and to hit the road. Secretly, the four of us, and our respective wives, Sue and Carol had agreed that after disappearing out of sight, we would return home to Bonair Road to repack a bit more sensibly, and say a decent, personal goodbye to our nearest and dearest. And so, we burst through the banner to the cheers of the crowd, went around the roundabout a couple of times, and …went home!

Leaving Red Cross, through the banner

At around 11:00 a.m. we headed to the local petrol station to fill up, revved the engines, and were off----on the real departure. What an exhilarating moment that was. We were still in familiar territory, on roads we knew well, cell phones in our pockets for emergencies, but, there was no turning back. This was the first time we were really getting a feel of the weight of the bikes with all the luggage. Each one was left with a barrage of thoughts clambering for attention, and we were going to have many moments of uninterrupted processing, not only of the build up to the trip, but we would have the chance to take time to reflect on so many aspects of our lives that normally get lost in the business of everyday life. We knew that we would never be the same. We just didn’t know in what way this would be.

The destination for that first day was Beaufort West, a dry Karoo town 464 km. away. The ride out of Cape Town is both beautiful and familiar, and we had to keep reminding ourselves that this was actually IT! Once through the Huguenot Tunnel, we had really left our home, and were on our way. The riding was great, and we got a chance to test out our cruise control and enjoy the experience. We stopped for a quick break in Worcester, and then headed on to Laingsburg, 156 km further on. This led to the very important discovery that, with no extra seat padding, your bum will go into painful revolt after about 100 km without stopping. (PROTIP: get good seat covers, they are worth their weight in gold. And they don't weigh much, so that is not even that much gold). Lunch in Laingsburg was a salad at The Spur, and then off again.

Our next stop was a quick rest at Leeu-Gamka, where Lollo, our Red Cross Hospital doll and mascot got a taste of the other option out there, like 2 Mules 2 De Doorns. The final stretch took us to Beaufort West, where we checked into the Karoo Backpackers, a very friendly place on the main road. After a walk around and then supper, we finished up with some journaling and chatting, and turned in for the night.

Day 2-Saturday December 31st 2011

Beaufort West to Kimberley (South Africa) 493 km.

Packing up is a process that takes a bit longer than Shan would like, but again, it is learning to get the correct distribution and system of tie down. Even working out how best to get a soft luggage roll behind your back becomes important, as there is limited space to put your butt. You don’t want a hard object jutting into your back or you will be going demented after hard braking or tight turns.

Shan packing up in Beaufort West

As we were packing, we met a friend of Jules, driving home from Cape Town to Joburg. We thought that was pretty cool and knew that within a couple of days, we would not be seeing any familiar faces. Brian too was a biker, and thought that he could lend Julian a seat cushion, and they agreed to make contact once we got to Joburg.

One of the novelties of the trip was pulling into shops or petrol stations and having people comment that they had seen us on TV on the Friday night. We were hoping that our trip would get a lot of exposure, so that people could go onto our blog, and see where they could donate to the Children’s Hospital Trust.

Another novelty was trying out our cruise (throttle) controls, which allowed one to ride with no hands. John and Jules became very good at this, and John at one stage clocked up around 140 km. of driving with no hands, leaning the bike around the gentle bends in the road. My bike seemed to have a lean to the right, and that, combined with a healthy respect for life, made me a lot more cautious. We took plenty of photos and videos of our clowning antics, which will not be used in any road safety campaigns, except for showing bikers what they should not do.

After a great day under African skies, John and his trusty GPS finally had us at the front doors of the Kimberley Diamond Protea Hotel. Someone had kindly sponsored one room, so that paying for the other room still made our average accommodation costs very reasonable. It was New Year’s Eve, probably the strangest one we had ever celebrated, certainly the younger two. We went for supper at the local Spur, and recapped what we had experienced during the day, what we had learned, and what we would do over the next few days. It was a bit of an unknown as to how long the whole process of getting the Ethiopian and Sudan visas in Pretoria would take. Jules and Shan would stay at Jules’ old digs in Johannesburg, while John and I were going to stay with my cousin and his wife in Pretoria. The Monday would be a public holiday, so no business would be done with the visas, but we felt we still had some more researching to do, which these few days would allow. By about 9:30 p.m., we turned in for the night, anticipating another great day. This accommodation style of Mr. and Miss Taylor in one bedroom (often in a double bed) and the old men in the other room set the pattern for most of our trip.

Day 3-Sunday January 1st 2012 Kimberley to Johannesburg and Irene (Pretoria) South Africa) 526 km.

After a good night’s sleep in a comfortable hotel, in civilized South Africa, we were perhaps lulled into thinking,This trip is not such a tough thing. Hah! After a billy brew of Oats-o-easy to fill us with a good low GI food, we once again hauled our kit outside to the secure parking area (in South Africa, still thinking security), and decided to get a video clip of us packing the bikes, so that others would be able to see, and we could remember, what exactly was involved in this daily routine. There was little likelihood that after 120 days of this, we would ever forget. Shan and John each had to contend with a spare tire, which made the packing a bit more challenging. Amazingly, we were ready to hit the road by 8:30 a.m. as planned. The difference was that Shan and Jules had woken up an hour before, while John and I had woken about 2 ½ hours before.

Starting with the day before, Shan would pick a theme song, and today, it was Aladdin theme song, A Whole New World. She thought it was perhaps a tad corny, but with lyrics like, with new horizons to explore, and unbelievable sights, indescribable feelings, it seemed appropriate.

The scenery today was magical, as we were now out of the dry Karoo, and into greener countryside, with rich green maize (corn) fields growing out of burnt-red soil, and further on, the more lush Northern Province. It was a reminder of how incredibly diverse and dynamic our country is. Though the ride was long today, Shan’s derriere hurt slightly less while riding (she had stolen my seat cushion, with no plans of returning it!), her hands no longer tingled when we stopped to rest, and she felt more and more confident of her bike’s ability to keep her upright and alive.

Stops at petrol stations were fast becoming a highlight for Shan, as hundreds of people would sidle up to us to let us know they had seen us on TV. We basked in this semi-celebrity status. Actually, there were only about 10 people. OK, so it was a one-eyed dog that had been half sleeping in front of the TV during the E TV news that wagged his tail at us. Actually, we did get people asking if they could jump on the bike and pose for a photo, or we would recruit the entire family to stand in for a shot or 20. Many people would hoot as they drove past, recognizing the bikes. It was very surreal, since we felt so ordinary, and yet were aware of how extraordinary the adventure really was.

Jules and Shan with a couple of little girls who enjoyed checking out the bikes

Jules was a star, as he knows Johannesburg pretty well after living there for two years, and he led us there by mid afternoon, where he and Shan would stay for the next few days, while John and I would attend to the two visas in Pretoria. We met up with Mike, Tara, Luche, and a friend or two, and waited for Jules’ friend to arrive with the document packs that we needed, before we could head to Pretoria. Jules and Shan would play tourist in the City of Gold. While chatting, I saw my bike lean to the side and the next minute it was lying on the ground. The side stand had disappeared into the wet grass, and over it went. When parking a motorbike, one must always think about the angle you park it on, and the surface that the stand is on, as there is no reverse gear if you have to push backwards up a slope, and fully laden, one is trying to lift about 230 kg.

John and I headed off to Pretoria with John in control of the GPS, and within an hour, we were pulling into my cousin’s home, where Lionel, Cilla and Phillippa gave us a warm welcome, and made us feel completely at home.

Days 4, 5 , 6, and 7-Monday-Thursday January 2nd -5th 2012 Johannesburg and Pretoria (South Africa) 0 km.

Monday being a holiday, we did a lot of internet research, emailing, photocopying, etc., and later that evening, were joined by Jules and Shan, who brought a car through from Joburg. Lionel and Cilla had recently built a boma, which serves as a congenial entertainment area, so we had a pleasant braai together till Shan and Jules had to head back to Joburg.

On Tuesday, John and I drove through to the Ethiopian embassy, and submitted our visa applications with the officials. I had to disappear a couple of times to do a bank deposit and get other documents photocopied. When I returned to the security gates at 12:30 p.m., I was told I could not enter, because they were closed for lunch. I had some food and juice for John, and three Ethiopian men who were also trying to get their documents sorted out. Getting annoyed doesn’t really help, and this was good practice for a future occasion that we would face as we entered into Ethiopia some weeks later. Amazingly enough, by 2:00 p.m., we were presented with our passports, with a spanking new Ethiopian visa inside. One down, and one to go.

With a couple of hours on our hands, and a skip to our feet, we paid a visit to the historic Union Buildings, South Africa’s administrative capital. This is a beautiful Sir Herbert Baker design which stands on a hill like an ancient temple lording over the city which it governs. During the apartheid years, it was, for the majority of South Africans, a symbol that epitomized white domination. Nevertheless, it is a beautiful sandstone building, with carefully manicured spacious lawns and gardens, where people are free to wander. From the hill, we watched the typical summer clouds start to build up, until they were looking quite ominous, and we knew we were in for a race against time to get back to their home in Irene, before getting drenched. We had not come very well dressed for the occasion. The daytime temperatures are very hot, and any extra clothing seemed like unnecessary bulk to carry around. While heading home, John offered to let me try my hand at using the GPS. After quite a few frustrating wrong turns, and heading out on the highway heading east instead of south, I conceded that navigation was not my strong point, and we finally headed south, arriving at Lionel’s home just as the raindrops started to pelt down on us.

Later that evening, we joined my second cousin, Stephen Taylor who was celebrating his 29th birthday with some friends at a restaurant. We were lapping up all these semblances of domestication, which we knew would not last much longer.

Wednesday had us heading back into Pretoria to the Sudanese embassy. After a few more photocopies, we were ready to present all the documents that they needed. Officialdom always holds the power over the plebs, and you feel that you do not want to put a foot wrong, or get on their wrong side. We informed them of our desire to get going as soon as possible, but we now had to wait for the due process. They indicated that it would be about three days.

An added bonus was realizing that the embassy was directly across the road from a Kawasaki dealer. John had been a bit concerned about getting poor petrol consumption on the ride up to Joburg, and asked them to have a look at his bike. A second bonus of the embassy being located on the corner of Duncan and Pretorius Street, was that it was one block away from where I spent the first 7 years of my life-1077 Pretorius Street. Our old junior school used to be on the block behind the embassy, and the Springbok Park was in front of that. While the necessary work was being carried out on the bike, I walked down memory lane, had a few stories to tell John, and slept on a park bench, as holidays can be exhausting!

It was finally time to check on the bike, and Louis, the owner, had replaced the main carburetor jet with a smaller one, to make the mixture leaner meaning that the mix of petrol to air was a smaller ratio. Time would tell if this would make a difference, but he was very confident about this intervention.

We headed back to our haven in Irene, taking time out to sort out our packs, do more research on the internet, email family and friends, and enjoy more time with Lionel and Cilla.

Thursday, we hoped, but were not too optimistic, that the visas would be ready. They had told us to expect it to take three days. Anyway, we would rather spend three extra days in Pretoria, than maybe having to try getting the Sudan visa in Nairobi, and waste a week there. We decided to do a visit to the Voortrekker Monument, and had no sooner paid our entry fee, and walked up the steps, than the embassy phoned to say that we could collect the visas! With the embassy closing in forty minutes, at 3:00 p.m., we had to do a hasty tour of the monument, and race back to Pretorius Street. The trusty GPS took us along the fastest route, but my bike was sounding like it was running on baked beans rather than 95 octane. Once the visas were in our hot little hands, we crossed the street with our bikes, and had Louis check mine out. Thankfully, he very quickly located the problem. The two nuts that hold the exhaust pipe to the manifold had fallen off somewhere. They were quickly replaced, and we were good to go. We wondered to ourselves what the next 20,000 km. would bring our way.

The pleasant surprise of having the visas earlier than expected, meant that the youngsters needed to be notified, and their plans for Friday cancelled. They would have to pack and be ready to meet us in Pretoria early in the morning to head out. We were very excited to be ready to hit the road again. With more than 20,000 km. to cover, we always knew that there would not be a lot of time to play around with.

John and I wanted to get Lionel and Cilla a present for having us stay with them. We headed to the Centurion Mall, and being the considerate people we are, we looked for a parking place for the bikes that would be out of the way, and not take up a valuable spot that a car might want to use. We found a nice raised area that we could drive our bikes onto. Imagine our annoyance when we came out an hour later, and found that our wheels had been clamped by an unusually conscientious employee. We politely tried to reason with the parking officials, but they would not budge or see reason. I eventually stalked off in search of the office where we had to part with our blood money, leaving John to carry on the discussion. There had been no signs to indicate that we were not supposed to park there, and we felt a bit hard done by. Anyway, after walking through dark little alleys, I located the office. Our parting act of defiance was to drive over the curb, and past the booms not wanting to contribute to their coffers any further. All this time, we were racing against those ominous Gauteng rain clouds, as we had presents strapped onto our bikes that we really didn’t want to get wet. Again, we sneaked in the door just as the heavens opened.

Day 8-Friday January 8th 2012.

Pretoria to Louis Trichardt-435 km.

The departure began with a fuel fill up, which has become a sort of ritual. I get out my glasses, John’s bike goes first, then Shan, me and finally Jules. We do a running total with one pump reading, so have to do the subtractions and calculations of petrol consumption, etc. Forgetting to firmly lock down the petrol cap can severely affect fuel consumption, especially on a day with temperature above 38 degrees, as I found out. After the fill up, it is jackets on, books away, glasses away, reset the trip meter, gloves on, helmet on. Whoops, reverse those last two, as you can’t do up the helmet strap with gloves on-yes, I’ve done that a few times!! You learn to become quite methodical, as it helps to make certain actions automatic. That way, if your attention gets diverted, you will be less likely to slip up. But wait, there is more to come in this story!

When you are all kitted up after the fill up, and the temperatures are already sitting around 38 degrees, you start to feel like you are in a pressure cooker. So, when one of the four of us has an unexpected strap to tie down, or inspect something else on the bike, there is a tendency to start fuming-it is called the fire breathing dragon phenomenon. An extra supply of patience is usually required in moments like these. It is amazing how cool one feels once the breeze is blowing at about 110 k.p.h., and the evaporation process kicks in.

After that long winded tale, we were finally on our way, feeling like the real journey had now begun. We were now further north in Africa than Jules, Shan or I had ever driven before, though I had flown to Tanzania once before, and John had grown up in Bulawayo.

There are many kilometers to cover everyday, and depending on departure time, speed of the road, length of rest stops, photo breaks, etc., it can put a bit of pressure on getting to the destination. But Shan had heard of a beautiful guest house to stay in at Louis Trichardt, called the Ultimate Guest House. The plus side of having an actual destination to reach is that it does tend to keep you focused on a time line. Four people traveling together will always have a slightly different emphasis on what they are expecting from a trip. For some, it is primarily about the destination-getting from point a to point b. For another, it is mainly the people whom they meet that is special. Another person would be interested in the scenery, or it may be the cultural and historical side, or the riding of the bike itself, or maybe the time that we share together, and getting closer to one another. I guess we all had these different elements but just placed a different emphasis on each of them. It inevitably creates a certain amount of tension, and all the character traits come out. Through it all, we tried to make our decisions fairly democratic, and make sure we had consensus, or at least accept the decisions that were made.

Reaching Polokwane around lunch time, we first fuelled up, with adoring petrol attendant fans flocking around Shan and pointing the way to the local Checkers store. While the three shopped and enjoyed the air conditioned store, I guarded the bikes. After all, this is South Africa! Naturally one must be a bit street-wise, but in our experience, city people are very different to more rural populations. I got talking to a gentleman who was waiting for his wife in the store, and when we were all loaded up and ready to roll, he kindly drove ahead of us to show us where there was a pleasant picnic spot where we could eat. This was a foretaste of continual kindness that we met throughout our trip. As it turned out, it was a little strip of land in between two busy sections of road, but, there was a picnic table and a tap, and that was fine for us.

Julian wanted to see the Peter Mokabe soccer stadium that had been built for the 2010 FIFA soccer world cup, so we did a little detour through the town itself, catching a glimpse of the stadium, which, like a number of the others built especially for the world cup, is already a costly white elephant. This was our first bit of African game viewing, with the tusks removed!

For the rest of the afternoon, we reveled in the change in the countryside that we were now seeing. Things were looking greener, and more forested. We passed through a number of tolls, and felt we were getting our money’s worth, as we had been on excellent highways the whole way. We always met interesting and interested people at each petrol stop. Finally, as it was getting toward dusk, we reached the Ultimate Guesthouse, weary from the ride and the heat, but exhilarated by the beautiful mountainous surroundings and the cool air. Jules and Shan had a quick round of putt putt, and then a good meal was a fitting celebration of the day’s ride, followed by a nightcap with the owner and his family, the owner regaling us with an endless stream of motorbike stories, all of them in Afrikaans. I really enjoyed the 20% that I understood, but decided I’d had one story too many, and staggered off to bed.

Day 9-Saturday January 7th 2012

Louis Trichardt (South Africa) to Bulawayo (Zimbabwe) 430 km.

Today was going to be a border crossing day-an unknown from a time point of view, so we didn’t want to waste time, and left the guesthouse around 8:00 a.m. Again, we went through many tolls, and crossed the Tropic of Capricorn, which marks the most southerly latitude on the Earth at which the Sun can be directly overhead. This event occurs at the December solstice, when the southern hemisphere is tilted towards the Sun to its maximum extent.

At around 10:00 a.m., we had reached Mesina, near the border, and stocked up on some liquid refreshments both for ourselves and the bikes. Here we were-a figurative no turning back point. We were loving it. All was well. Why would we ever want to turn back? Somewhat like greenhorns, we found our way through all the correct windows at the border post, realizing that you are at the mercy of officialdom. There was a huge crowd of people all trying to get through the border. We wondered if there was a political rally taking place, but soon realized that it was simply a bottleneck of poor efficiency. Many were pedestrians, and many were passengers on buses. There were also many who, like us, were crossing in their own vehicles, and needed to process not only their passports, but their carnet documents (much like a passport for your vehicle to prevent you from having to pay an import tax). The carnet is by no means free. It is purchased from the local Automobile Association before leaving home, and a refundable deposit of 300% of the vehicle’s value is kept in their hands, to discourage one from selling the vehicle in a foreign country. It must be stamped as you enter and exit every country through which you pass. When you return home with your vehicle, you send the documents to the A.A., and the money is refunded.

With our bikes fully laden with precious cargo, including cameras, a laptop, sleeping bags, tools, clothing, etc., we didn’t want to leave them unattended in the parking lot, so John and I went to stand in the queue, while Shan and Jules nobly stood guard in the 38 degree heat. As we were getting closer to the front, I went off to call them to the queue. On returning, the official told us in no uncertain terms, that they and I could not jump in the queue, and we all had to go to the back. Grrrrr. Anyway, being nice works no better than being not nice, and we just had to wait our turn, at least at this stage, in some shade.

All good things come to an end, and after a good 2 ½ hours or so, which seemed more like about five hours, we were cleared into that mythical land of Bob Magob (Mugabe). We had crossed the mighty Limpopo River, the second largest river which flows into the Indian Ocean.

Having passed the border town of Beit Bridge, the afternoon proceeded pleasantly enough, with the roads being in perfectly good condition. We were heading to John’s old stomping grounds, to an address that was not on the map or GPS, to a couple whom we didn’t know from Adam or Eve, with no SIM card in our cell phone. This being a trip where resourcefulness gets tested, we got into Bulawayo, and knowing we had ridden too far, we back tracked to a convenience store, borrowed a phone from one of the staff at a cost, and organized for John McMinn, our volunteer host, to meet us at the petrol station near the end of their road. John and Aletta are an incredibly hospitable couple. The connection was that my other son, Brad, and her son, Bart Love are friends from Cape Town, and he had put us in touch with the McMinns. Why wouldn’t a woman want to put up four smelly, dirty, complete strangers in her home for the weekend, when she was about to start renovations on their home the day after the strangers leave! They fed us like kings, and brought us up to speed with how things are in Zimbabwe, how his optometric practice is run, and we got to meet their two other sons.

Day 10-Sunday January 8th 2012

Bulawayo (Zimbabwe)

We were once again treated like royalty with a breakfast that we would not see again for quite a while. Our main mission for the day was to go down John’s memory lane. Matthew, their son, very kindly offered us the use of their car for the day. This was so generous of him. There was some problem with the licence disc, but it all sounded very confusing, and they reassured us that we need not worry. If there were any problems, we must simply phone them. That sounded good enough for us.

We visited John’s old house, school, and his dad’s place of work. It was really fun to see the place through someone else’s eyes. John’s favourite recreation place as a young person had been the Matopa Hills. This was situated in the national park about 40 km. south of the town. We became honourary Zimbabweans for the day as a dishonourary South African would have to pay two or three times as much for entry fees, and situation ethics took over our normal moral high ground. Ok, so we justified it by our feelings toward Uncle Bob Magob, and have since repented.

The Matopas were the site of many a battle, as various tribes fought for supremacy, including the fair skinned tribe. John gave us some very good history lessons. Upon returning to town, he thought we should be rewarded for our indulgence of his nostalgic trip, and treated us to an ice cream, and Jules, a hamburger.

It was time to return to base once again, where we had the task of changing the oil on Shan’s bike. This had not been done in all the rush of leaving, and we wanted to get the oil changing synchronized with all four bikes. We left John McMinn’s driveway spotless (we hope), before having a good Zimbabwean braai. Eventually, it was time to head for bed, as we needed to get up early, and the workmen were coming in the morning to start the renovations. The timing,

Reviews for A Motorcycle Odyssey-Cape Town To Singapore

[Donald Tubbs · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A great book about a great trip. Good description of both the world they were traveling through and how they dealt with it. Enough about the motorcycle problems to make it realistic without becoming a downer. Same with the interpersonal differences. And without the self-aggrandizement in books by certain richly-funded and supported media personalities. Thank you.