This page contains a brief summary of our trip. In contrast with the full report of our trip, which consists mainly of articles that appeared in the newspapers at that time, this text as well as all the other texts on our web site, has been totally rewritten.
More information can be found in the web links on the left by clicking on Highlights - Index, alternatively click on the Chronological Index for a more complete version of the trip.
How we met
Jens and I met "by chance" at a vaccination venue only four weeks before our departure. A young man carrying bicycle bags left the waiting room of the Health Care Institute in Frankfurt shortly before me. The doctor told me that this person had a similar tour in mind: To cycle from Frankfurt to Cape Town. I became curious. I bypassed the doctor's confidentiality requirement by quickly copying the telephone number of my predecessor from the vaccination record book, while the doctor was fetching the vaccine. I contacted him that same evening - and soon had Jens on the phone from Kelkheim, a neighbouring town. He also actually intended to cycle through Africa. We arranged to meet and started to plan the crossing of the Sahara, a desert we both had enormous respect for. We prepared separately for the trip; each one had his own tent, sleeping bag, equipment etc. so that we did not have to depend on each other.
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The parting
After crossing half of the Sahara, which drained us physically as well as mentally, we each went our separate way. We had totally different opinions about the route, daily routine and the number of kilometres to be covered every day. While I often made use of the cooler nights to continue cycling, Jens cycled mostly during the day. I had also planned to cycle along the West Coast to Southern Africa, while Jens went along the equator because he first wanted to visit East Africa. One advantage of travelling alone is no doubt the opportunity for more intense contact with the indigenous population. The native population seems to be far friendlier and are less reserved when meeting one person instead of a group. The disadvantage, however, being (and we both felt this fairly soon) that one had to handle all the unpleasant and dangerous situations alone.
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Facing death
After Tamanrasset (Algeria) the track soon changes to soft sand. There are numerous tracks going in all directions. My water supply was depleted after two days. I had been warned. A friendly overland traveller helped be to refill my water bottles, and then I was left on my own in the endless desert. Tamanrasset lies four days behind me and I drink the last few drops out of my bicycle flask. The alternate riding and pushing through sand becomes increasingly difficult, no shade anywhere at all while small, black flies test my nerves to the limit. Finally I sink into the half-shade of a dead tree, too weak to even attempt to fight the flies. I am overcome by fear, memories as well as warnings come to mind, and I'm starting to hallucinate. A thought crosses my mind - is this the end?
I don't know how much time went by, but all of a sudden I heard a vehicle. Is it still the same day? A truck came directly towards me, two men jumped out - helped me - and gave me water! I can't stop drinking. A terrific feeling - I have been saved. These two guys were driving the truck to West Africa and I ride with them to Arlit in the Niger Republic.
I had already lost my appetite in spite of an excellent meal prepared for me by my host, a Lebanese businessman. The next day, after Benin City in Nigeria, started off with a very hilly stretch. The climate seemed particularly unbearable to me today. I constantly had to stop and rest. What was going on? Then things started to happen very quickly. Within the next half an hour I collapsed on the side of the road. My body was racked by fever. I only just managed to hitch a ride with someone back to Benin City, where my concerned host once again took me in. I was convinced - this could only be malaria! I immediately took the full dosage of Lariam and went to bed. For the next three days I was lost in a world of hallucinations, nightmares and fever bouts - a real horror show…
An unbelievable coincidence
There are basically no street signs in Bangui, the capital of Central Africa. In spite of this I end up in police custody - apparently for riding along a one-way street! The truth of the matter being, that all this is more about increasing the meagre monthly income of the policeman - and we were about to come to some agreement, when I suddenly heard someone behind me call my name. After three months and more than 5 000 km, there was Jens - and after paying off the policeman, we fell into each other's arms. Jens had also suffered a bout of malaria and like me came to realise how important a friend could be in that situation.
We immediately decided that we would cycle the remaining 14 000 km to Cape Town together. A very good decision, as we soon found out.
Amongst thieves
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The tropical rain in the Congo is pounding against
the roof of my tent, as it does every night. We are camping next to a tiny
village in the middle of the Zairian rain forest. This means getting up early
and as I do every morning, I reach into the outer tent area for my shoes.
But there is nothing.
Still half asleep, I look around in disbelief. My bicycle bags are also missing.
Stolen! I wake Jens up and run like a madman along the jungle path into daybreak.
Nothing! This is the end: no spares, no medication and no films. Evidence
of the theft is scattered all over the muddy jungle: Letters from my girlfriend,
my bike, passport and camera are still there, the latter was always kept in
my sleeping bag. I need two days to recover from this shock and to realise
that even the tortured questioning of the village inhabitants by the drunken
military, will not return the stolen items I so desperately need. Heartsick
and with rubber sandals and a pair of shorts borrowed from Jens, we once again
get on our way.
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A proverbial "high-light"
In the moonlight, the rocks form a sharp contrast against the blue night sky. It is freezing cold, it could even be 15 degrees below zero. Newly fallen snow divides the light evenly over the endlessly steep boulders and rocky terrain. We don't need a torch, but woollen caps and gloves are essential to ward off the biting cold.
We
have reached our
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Perhaps our most emotional moment was the sudden and unexpected view over Cape Town and Table Mountain on the horizon, as we reached the last pass: This sight imprinted itself in our mind in anticipation through all illnesses, hunger and thirst, through endless terrains of sludge and sand, tropical heat and icy cold and homesickness, through all the high and low points of this long journey - and now the moment had actually arrived, and at the same time our journey had suddenly come to an end, from one day to the next. After the first few days in Cape Town, where we geographically concluded our journey with a visit to the Cape of Good Hope, and were suddenly overcome by a feeling of great emptiness. Having reached our goal, which had dominated our daily routine for more than a year, now left us without a purpose in life. We only found this again gradually as we went along. We liked Cape Town, the "fairest Cape in the world", so much so that we soon decided that this is where we were going to put down our roots. It was rather difficult in the beginning. Jens, who was a qualified electrician, worked for Siemens. I was an unemployed film producer, but soon found work in a night-café. In between, both of us briefly tried once more to 'find our feet' in Germany, more to convince ourselves that the decision we had already made, was the right one. Our intention was to settle in Cape Town and start working on our own. We intended to plan and organise bicycle tours to show this unique and beautiful country known as South Africa, that had now become our second home, to nature lovers and cycling enthusiasts from our first homeland.
This idea became a reality in 1993 with the establishment
of African Bikers
.
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