AFRICA EPILOGUE

You know you love Africa when;

You crave pointless beaureacracy. No longer do you complain to the annoying border official who’s busy talking to his mate on the phone whilst telling you to fill in the fiftieth form that says pretty much the same as the previous forty nine. No, you don’t complain, you begin to have an abnormal craving for more pointless tripe. You beg for him to come out with another silly reason why you have to fill another form in and queue again. You crave for him to point you in the direction of the exit, only to have to come back to him as he made it all up in his head and the exit hasn’t existed for ten years, if ever.

You begin to embrace dust, not loathe it. The disgusting thick coating all over your body, car and all manner of worldly possessions suddenly becomes comfortable, warming and attractive. You start to almost wish you could rub it all over your body in a ritual dance and allow it to take you over. You’re a new person and dust is a big part of it.

A vanish stick and a whole load of elbow grease couldn't sort this little mess out!

Reckless drivers begin to become a spectator sport. No more do you tut out loud and express your disgust  at an individual driver’s dangerous driving. Instead you can’t wait to see what happens to the next over laden lorry take on a blind corner, up hill, in the dark and with one working headlamp. You have vivid illusions of setting up a TV reality show to share such lunacy with the world.

Before and….

I reckon he could have packed much more on there if he really tried...

After…

The result of bad roads and a lunatic behind a steering wheel..!

Street vendors become friends. No longer a menace, you embrace their incessant, and always unwanted advances to sell you another pointless piece of crap. You begin to encourage them; you flash your money around like it’s some sort of funky toy. You stand around staring, as if lost to ensure they strike. You start to play mind games on your victims like asking ‘can I get a 100% discount, please..’ , only to laugh in your mind at the ‘yes, for you, of course my friend’ reply.

Captain Everything; a true prince among thieves.

Accommodation assumes a new definition in your mind. The need for luxury dissipates very quickly. In fact the need for basic facilities including a bed and running water become almost laughable and you begin to lose the basic knowledge of what a mattress actually looks like, let alone its proper use.

One of the better hotels.. this one even had a bloody mattress!

Wild camping becomes the norm and you feel nervous when a hostel manager hands you a key and set of towels. You continue to pee outside and wash from a bucket in hotels, much to the embarrassment of your fellow roomies.

Another 5* camping spot. You simply can't beat luxury..

Digging a toilet becomes a pleasure not a necessary evil. You become more elaborate in the depth and shape of your pit and even sometimes decorate the general toilet area to make it more aesthetically pleasing to you and subsequent users. Even in cities you prefer an outdoor trip to a toilet dug by your own good hands rather than an imported porcelain number in KFC.

Who needs a toilet when you've got yourselves one of these!

Police and military checkpoints become scenes of immense joy. No longer do AK47s or sawn off shotguns intimidate you. Instead they become an open invite to befriend these would be trouble makers. Corruption is brushed away in your conscience as merely a contemporary form of politeness and the can of ginger beer you give the official is merely a token of friendship.

Best buddies..

In other words, all the annoying things you come to expect in Africa diminish. So much so that you begin to miss them and soon realise they are the fabric of this great continent and a big part of the reason why travel here is so enthralling.

Africa gets deep into your blood. So much so that a dialysis machine couldn’t come close to clearing it up. May sound like a cliché but it’s not intended to be. It’s as real as this incredible continent is.

The people, the animals, the scenery. The sunrises, the sunsets. It’s all so stunning, so diverse, that a trip like this doesn’t allow you to take even a fraction of it in. London to Cape Town was meant to be an adventure, a break from reality; an opportunity to reflect. It ended up far more than that. It became a way of life and one that will be very hard to leave.

Simply a breathtaking continent.

If I could pass on anything from this trip to others, I would hope it would be a sense that the world out there is more accessible than you think. It’s easy to sit back in London, New York, Paris, Sydney or wherever you may be reading this and simply look at the pictures and admire them (or otherwise!). Every now and again, leave that seat and get out there. Grab life with both hands and feet and shake every little opportunity, experience and happiness you can out of it before it fizzles away before you. There are no excuses. I’ve met people with children, people with disabilities, the old and the young, the timid and the bold. People with mortgages, people with financial obligations. They’re all out there, on the road.

If you’ve ever had an ambition to travel, however small, please follow up on it. You won’t; you can’t, regret it.

To all those that helped me,

Through every single mile.

To all those that inspired me,

To those that made me smile.

To all those that visited me,

In countries along the way.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart,

For joining this ridiculous little mêlée.

Thank you.