Africa 2019

In November 2018, we posted this picture on our Facebook page - we didn't know how we would do it, but we decided: we were going to ride around Africa!

Egypt

...But we soon discovered it was not going to be that simple.

It started with Egypt: at the time, we would have to pay around $500 per bike to enter (each bike needed the Egyptian carnet and license plate, plus we would have to pay to all kinds of fixers and helpers, because you cannot go through this alone; also, we would have to wait at the Sudan border as this process can take days), and then figure out how to return to Europe (ferries were expensive and unreliable). Plus, we didn't even know this at the time, but nothing much is done without corruption and bribery in Egypt, and exploring a country like that on bikes would definitely not be fun for us. There are riders who still put up with all this, and like it, but we decided it wasn't worth it.

That said, we still decided to go - how can we travel through Africa but skip the majestic ancient Egyptian sites?! So here is a very short report on what we saw as ordinary tourists:

Cairo is a huge messy trashy busy smoggy, colorful city that is full of traffic and very much alive 24 hours a day. Outside of the tourist areas, people are nice; half of the men wear traditional robes, some still use donkey carts instead of cars, and all of them smoke.

The Coptic museum was interesting and walking through the old town was colorful, but the pyramids of Giza and the Egyptian museum were simply amazing.

Kyle took a spy video of Tutankhamun's museum room, because you're not allowed to take pictures in here (but many do). Tutankhamun's eyes are hypnotic!

A worn-down but clean overnight train took us 1,000km south into the Upper Egypt with its many temples and Nubian villages along the river Nile. Life down here on the narrow fertile green belt around the water (which is surrounded by the endless hot Sahara desert) seems as slow and simple as it has always been (if you forget the cars, phones, and garbage).

The Falcon-God temple near Aswan is beautiful and best preserved of them all (though the Turkish soldiers did burn it in the 19th century to get rid of all the garbage the locals had been throwing in it); further south is the famous and impressive Abu Simbel, built by Ramses II and then moved up the hill by UNESCO due to the flooding of the newly created lake Naser.

And now on to the last (and we're told best) part: Luxor and the Valley of the Kings!

The city of Luxor in upper Egypt grew on top of what used to be the capital of ancient Egypt - Thebes (Tebe); the sights in this area are therefore of course amazing. In the city, two huge temples survive: Luxor Temple (built by Tutankhamun's dad) in which there is also an old mosque and what is left of the 3rd century Coptic church, and the vast Temple of Karnak, the main temple, dedicated to the supreme god Amon Ra and the most important pilgrimage destination - something like the Vatican of Egypt.

On the other side of the river Nile are the Valley of the Kings and the Valley of the Queens, where the royal tombs are situated. 64 tombs have been found in the Valley of the Kings, but there are probably more. We saw three (not Tutankhamun - you have to pay extra for that because Tut is a star, even though his tomb is small and nothing special).

Between the two valleys lies the temple dedicated to Hatshepsut, the only female pharaoh. Since women couldn't be pharaohs she declared that she was not a woman but "Daughter of God" (her mom slept with Amon Ra), and she wore men's clothing and a fake pharaoh beard.

Luckily, in order to fly back to Cairo, we had to go to Hurghada, a beach resort town that runs some 40km along the coast of the Red Sea - and so we got to spend a day swimming and sunbathing.

Up on the hill next to a cave church is an overview of the chaos. You can see the huge mural, already distorted by the construction of new walls and rooms, there are goats on roofs (farms) and the tall roof top scaffolding structures are pigeon houses. In some sort of organization (?) there is garbage everywhere and it smells but it's an awesome place to experience.

What can we say: even though we hated being bikeless tourists, with hardly any freedom to roam around and explore the real country by ourselves - Egypt is a must, we are glad we went!

South Africa

Hello from the bottom of Africa!!! After spending a few days in Cape Town, we were finally starting to feel a little less dizzy thinking about how far away from home we were and what was ahead!

Our journey started in the lovely Cape Town, the capital of South Africa; it's a big coastal port with 4 million people and a beautiful Atlantic coastline, and it's nicknamed "The Bowl" because it rests below the peaks of Table Mountain and Lion's Head.

It's a modern and fashionable city, with a cool light vibe where hipster, traditional and international all happily mix together; there are also many tourists and beggars, and then there is amazing food and world class shopping, and lots of fun sights.

The famous South African weather also didn't disappoint: most of the time, it felt like a warm day in May with a light breeze (though sometimes that breeze turned into crazy and cold gusts of wind, so it's wise to bring a warm jacket).

As for the people, they were incredibly nice, and always trying to help. The airport customs, for example, were amazingly simple: everybody was chatting with us, cracking jokes and asking about our trip, while being unbelievably helpful and efficient - our bikes were out in 30 minutes! We spent our first evening having "braai" (as BBQ is called down here) with our hosts, and he told us about how the Lutheran Dutch (and his family among them) came down here in 18th century, and how, while interacting and clashing with the local people, they somehow survived and even thrived and became proud Africans (their language, Afrikaans, which is really the 18th century version of Dutch, is one of the official languages in SA). His wife added that though there was still apartheid-based tension today and economy was in decline, people do get along and it is a lovely country. She also warned us that foreigners sometimes misunderstand "the local black people" - they see the world differently: for example, it's perfectly normal (and nothing to do with the way we view integrity) to be passionately defending one view, and then a couple of days later the opposite view; also, if there is a local feast, the whole community must be invited and fed, no exceptions!

We visited some sites, and liked them all:

Old Biscuit Mill is a famous Saturday market, and even though it's full of tourists, it's wonderfully colorful and packed with good stuff, from amazing international foods to high quality goods, and there are wine tastings everywhere.

Waterfront is also impressive: most of the giant warehouse area was turned into Cape Town's hotspot where locals and tourists gather to enjoy the sun, music, and the views of Table Mountain and the port; there are cafes and restaurants, live concerts (the big outdoor concert area was having free jazz concerts that week), and the best mall we've ever been to.

Bo Kaamp is a colorful little neighborhood where the first freed slaves used to live, and in which (nobody is sure why) all the houses are vividly painted.

We decided to hike to the top of Table Mountain (1.085m) to check out the views (you can take a cable car, but that costs $15 one way), and though the view was great, it was a really intense hike, with giant steep steps going straight up the ravine, it was like climbing a pyramid for 90 minutes! There were no views at the flat top though, but it was fun to be wrapped into a misty cloud!

P.S. In South Africa, you cannot buy alcohol in grocery stores - but you can buy wine, and lots of it, and of high quality, for cheap! Apparently, in this country of famous wines, wine is considered food, not alcohol

Also, in the hostel, a guy dropped by the name of Matej, who lives in Cape Town (when he is not traveling) most of the time - but is actually a musician from Slovenia. We met and had a fun night out on the town... What are the odds of that happening?!

Then we rode (on the left side! Still weird!) towards the nearby Cape of Good Hope along the beautiful coastline, enjoying the views of the mighty turquoise waves splashing over big boulders and white sand.

We never made it to the Cape (too expensive, besides, that is not the southernmost point of Africa), but we did see penguins in nearby Simon's town, from up close - you can literally swim with the penguins there!

Next, we rode east along the coast, to get to the famous Garden Route.

The ride was exhausting - we learned that the lovely South African climate has a dark side: within hours, it can apparently change from a perfect sunny day into a cold dark rainy foggy windy mess, basically a cruel combination of chilly Nova Scotia and windy Patagonia!

We went to Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point of Africa, and it was fun, but it didn't really feel like much of an achievement - we pretty much flew our bikes down there! Also, the awful weather chased away the famous stingrays, who usually come in big numbers to feed on leftover fish in the shallow waters of the nearby Struisbaai port. Oh well.

Next day, the weather was of course perfect again, and so we happily rode on; it turned out that Garden Route is not so much a fun ride (it's just a coastal highway, Kyle was disappointed) as it is the road that takes you to beautiful places (beaches, forests, gorges, neat touristy towns).

We stayed near Plettenberg Bay, because we decided to visit three animal sanctuaries. All three use tourism as a way to gather means for rescuing and rehabilitating wild animals, and all three are doing a great job:

The Knysna Elephant Park lets you walk and interact with elephants, which is so much fun (They are so big! And their ears are so soft, and their eyelashes so long!), but it's also respectful to the animals.

The next one was Monkeyland, a very popular attraction which helps rehabilitate privately owned, zoo and lab monkeys. The walking safari was great, we saw so many different monkeys (capuchins, tiny squirrel monkeys, spider monkeys etc.) and two kinds of lemurs (Stina's favorite, especially when they walk on ground in a group with those tails up, or when they all bundle into one cute ball to take a nap), from up close, they were very relaxed and all over the place. Once they get very old or sick, they are moved to the "Special Place" - the retirement home for monkeys, where they can take it easy.

Birds of Eden is one of the world's largest free-flight aviaries: over 220 different types of birds (plus the world's tiniest deer), and almost 4,000 birds all live and fly around together in that giant rainforest-like netted space. Some birds come to you because they were owned by people, and sadly, some have been through "pinioning" (the tip of their wing was cut off when they were very young, so they wouldn't be able to fly away). This sanctuary was probably our favorite: the amount and variety of birds is mind-blowing: from rainbow-colored chickens to bright red long-beaked birds, to elegant giants we've never seen, and then flamingos, dozens of different parrots, macaws, toucans, and on and on.

We are looking forward to seeing some of these animals in the wild in the future months, but it was nice to get to know them from up close, which is probably not likely in national parks!

So, that was it for us down here: next, we were going inland, north over mountains, into arid highlands of South Africa - there was still lots to see on our way to Namibia!

P.S. Here, hitchhikers wait by the side of the road with the arm stretched onto the road, holding a banknote.

Marijuana is legal in South Africa.

Also, you often see baboons hanging out by the side of the road (but feeding them is against the law!).

Oh, and the hostel we stayed at had cricket championship on tv, and everybody was watching!

We headed inland, north-west, over the mountains; gradually, the lush and green coastal nature turned into arid highlands.

Kyle heard that we should ride over the Swartberg pass, and that really was fun: the easy gravel road, winding along a steep mountain, offered amazing views of canyons, valleys and mountains.

Next, we got on R62, the SA version of Route 66, and even though there were some similarities (fun ride, with occasional pretty old towns, and famous stops in the middle of nowhere such as "Ronnie's Sex Shop" pub), it felt more like riding through Nevada (except that here, you get to see giant tortoises, baboons, cute 19th century Dutch villas, and dozens of big ostrich farms).

We were invited to spend some time at a fellow-rider's home in Tulbach, a pretty little town in green Winelands of Western Cape, surrounded by beautiful mountains (that get snow in the winter!), and it was so pleasant that we decided to stay, rest, feel welcome in the family and be spoiled with braai (they take their BBQ just as seriously as Argentinians!) - and even do some wine tasting at the local winery.

...But then, after we rode for a day and a half through an empty, and ever drier and hotter desert, slowly realizing that the easy part of our trip was over - we entered Namibia!

P.S. South African food: lots of lamb (which is cheap) and ox tail, mutton, ostrich, and braai meat in general, and then all the English pies (e.g. Cornish, curry& mutton, steak& kidney pie), biltong (dried meat, like beef jerky), and the surprising spice mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and ginger [cimet, muskatni orescek, nageljnove zbice in ingver] which you will find in sausages as well as cereal! And of course, their wine - it's world class, inexpensive, omnipresent and plentiful (...we never knew we liked white wine!).

We kept asking about the touchy subject of racism in South Africa (especially because we noticed that outside of Cape Town, we never saw people of different races hang out together), and it's of course a complicated issue, but here is a not very subtle attempt to summarize the explanations we got:

In general, races do not mix, but are living parallel lives in a shared country (they did for a little bit, at the end of apartheid and when beloved Mandela was president, but the populist corrupted government that followed him has had different ideas).

Blacks are in power, and we were told (though we had nothing but great experiences) that some tend to be quite violent, not just to other races but within their own communities as well. Apparently, that violence is part of their culture because they are descendants from the military Zulu tribes (and just like the whites, they are not native to South Africa; in fact, tribes in Namibia and Bushmen are the true indigenous people of SA). Black people were, of course, terribly repressed during apartheid; but after they became free and given many promises, they now find themselves let down, lacking resources, education, or real future. Then there are descendants of Indian slaves, and coloureds (mixed people who speak English or Afrikaans), and they have no real power at all.

The whites are no longer in power (and reverse racism is often tolerated by the government), but they kept their lands and assets and are still doing quite well. And then there is another split, between Afrikaners (the Dutch) and the British: during the early 20th century Boer wars, the British set up concentration camps for the Afrikaners, and a great number of people, many of them children, died there. Afrikaners still resent the British, and this part of history is not taught at school. On the other hand, there is hope for the younger generation - most children are now taught both languages in school and most people are in fact becoming bilingual.

In other words, South Africa is a lovely country - but though outlawed, 'separateness' (apartheid) seems alive and well here, and most happy homes are wrapped in alarms and barb wires.

Namibia

We entered the real Africa now: Hello from Namibia!

So that was it, we said goodbye to the fresh, green, comfortable South Africa, and entered Namibia - suddenly (after the incredibly easy and quick border crossing), we found ourselves in the dry, hot, sandy, wild Africa!

Namibia's beauty is different, it's rugged and merciless (and hot!); the road started taking us through the endless moonlike sandy landscapes of the Namib, the world's oldest desert, quiet in the morning and windy in the afternoon, with groups of oryx and ground squirrels running around, and then came the magical amber sunsets, and pleasantly fresh dark nights under the Milky way...

So, we knew that Namibia was going to be a land of awesome lonely desert with a touch of German cultural legacy; but did you know that Namibia is also one of the few African countries that is politically stable and doing well economically? (Which unfortunately for us also means that lodging isn't cheap, not even camping.)

To put it super short: after it was a German colony for 30 years (there are still many Germans here, both Afrikaans and German are still two out of eight official languages, and we were definitely looking forward to some good German food!), Namibia came under South African rule after WW1, and all good land was given to the white settlers (6% of the population) while the law confined the indigenous people to "their reserves"; all this suppression caused the beginning of nationalistic movements in 1950s, and after decades of demonstrations and guerilla fighting, Namibia gained independence in 1990; and amazingly enough, the country has been peaceful and prospering ever since.

Unfortunately for Stina, Namibia seems to only have one paved road (which also means they have a sense of humor - they charged us a 'road tax' at the border); she absolutely hates (and fears!) soft ground of any kind, but of course, this is the desert, so most gravel roads here contain plenty of soft sandy spots! It's exhausting to the body and mind, this constant intense staring at the road ahead, pushing forward (too) slowly and fearfully with a heavily loaded bike under the hot sun...instead of looking around, enjoying the views! So yeah, if you're not an off-road rider (and Stina isn't - but Kyle is, so he'd be having fun here if it wasn't for his despairing wife!), we recommend you take a jeep instead!

First we went to see the famous Fish River Canyon, but were a bit disappointed: it was a beautiful sight, but that was all. We couldn't hike down because it was too hot in the middle of the day, and besides, there was no river left (and obviously also no fish, so it was basically just a Canyon at the moment). Was riding 120km on gravel roads to see the canyon worth it to Stina? No, it wasn't, and we were late and she was absolutely spent.

We continued riding north, amazed to find an occasional little town in which people lead normal lives (and many spoke languages in which they use that clicking sound!), as if they weren't surrounded by a giant ruthless hot desert. Then, in Maltahöhe, the road ended and we had to ride the gravel road for 188km if we wanted to see the famous sand dunes; we were told that the road was fine, but it took Stina 6 hours, it was brutal, and it ended with 10km of sand road that even caused Kyle trouble (while Stina was basically walking in first gear). Still, this one was worth it: in the camp, while the foxes watched us from afar, we were gazing up at the most beautiful Milky Way we'd ever seen - thousands of stars that looked as if they were hanging on invisible strings of different lengths, right over our heads...

...and then next morning, we went to see another highlight: the dunes of Sossusvlei.

The majestic sand dune country is comprised of 32,000km2 of red sand sea that is constantly shifting, being moved and reshaped by the wind, with the beautiful, giant, quiet dunes rising up to over 300m, towering over the large pan of Sossusvlei. We climbed the Dune 45 (which is really fun to do!) for the mind-blowing views, and we also really liked the Deadvlei - white clay pan where 700 years ago, the dunes blocked the river (among them the tallest - Big Daddy, 325m), causing all the trees in the area to die; they are still standing though, it's too dry for them to decompose, making the pan look like a natural art gallery.

By the way: that night, at the camp, jackals ate Kyle's Birkenstock!

As usual, we left the shoes and some other stuff outside, under the sides of the tent, and went to sleep. Then, in the middle of the night, Kyle heard a noise and turned on the light - the laptop was dragged out, and his shoes were gone! He got up and saw a jackal chew on one a bit further away; they had an eye contact, and then Kyle was chasing him around until the jackal dropped the shoe, which by then was missing a good chunk of leather... At 4am, again, a loud noise woke him up, and this time the jackal pulled two giant rocks off the lid of the camp trashcan and proceeded dragging the thorn garbage bag through the desert - and again, the chase began, and Kyle got that bag as well, and then had to put the garbage away! (Stina, on the other hand, woke up nice and fresh in the morning, never heard a thing...)

Knowing what was ahead, Stina said a little prayer of hope she would make it, and then we went back onto those terrible roads and started moving further north.

We had two more days of riding on gravel through the hot desert; on day one, we (Stina) managed to do 130km, of which 30km of the road were terrible and the rest went from " Oh common!" to "Oh my god..." It's like they pour loose gravel on top of soft sand and then call that rutted, corrugated, soft sandy mess a road!

The hot miserable day had some serious highlights, though: the desert landscape turned into gorgeous grasslands, we saw a wildebeest (a gnu) just chilling under a tree by the side of the road, and we camped at a place called Bushman's Camp that has a watering hole to which, after sunset, dozens of zebras come to drink.

So our tent was standing 20m away from an amazing show that went on for hours: zebras were coming in small groups, drank, fought, barked in high-pitched voices, and then disappeared into the night again... (Thanks again for the recommendation, Rami!).

The next day was just as insanely hard - well, the road did get better at the very end, and a good thing, because Stina had nothing left (even though Kyle took her luggage on his bike, and gave her arms and shoulders a rub every few hours), and it had a bizarre end: we made it to the coast (Walvis Bay), and it turns out that the Atlantic makes the climate there cold, grey, and windy!

And not only were we really cold camping (in some suburbia, eating great food from a fancy grocery store), we went from spotting wildlife in the savannah straight to staring at literally thousands of flamingos that were hanging out in the shallow waters along the shore!!!

We moved to nearby Swakopmund to rest for two days (and it was a fun ride, on the right we had the desert with tons of people playing on the dunes with their quads or parasails, and on the left the mighty Atlantic coastline), and even though we found this little coastal town a bit boring and touristy (it's the launch post for exploration of Namib Desert and Skeleton Coast), we loved how German it still was: there was the traditional German architecture under the giant palm trees, and plenty of locals actually still speaking German, and of course the food, everything from eisbein and Schofferhofer beer to apfelstrudel.

Next, we were going to buy Kyle new sandals in Windhoek (though he had repaired his jackal-eaten ones, and now they almost looked hipster), Namibia's capital city, and then we were off to the famous Etosha national park!

Well, the people are quite cosmopolitan, but there really isn't much to see in hot Windhoek, Namibia's capital city... But we did enjoy the camp's pool, plus some really fun people came to visit: a Himba lady from the north, and our Slovenian friend Matej from the south!

P.S. The Himba woman offered to pose for us herself, after Stina bought a bracelet from her. Stina wanted to hug her - but her skin was of course smeared with red dirt, so she changed her mind about that, gotta keep your few shirts clean if you can! (Also, this picture was first posted on our Facebook page, so we did the censoring before Facebook would do it for us.)

During the five-hour ride north to Etosha, the police check points began, the nature turned green, and we felt some of those rains down here in Africa that Toto sings about; it was pouring hard and for hours (we were later told at the park that the rain season just began up here, but even so, rains like these are very rare); the ride and camp were both of course a miserable experience - and camping here is not cheap, yet offers nothing when it rains, so the only shelter we could find was the bathroom (which, thankfully, was clean and not used by anybody else).

We woke up into a sunny day, but still not very happy: Etosha national park may be giant (20,000km2) and awesome, but its safaris rely on waterholes: all you have to do is park next to a waterhole and wait for animals to come, and that of course is not likely to happen when there are giant puddles for them to drink from everywhere!

In the end, we still decided to go on the afternoon tour (even though we knew it was even more of a gamble than usual - the people who went on the tour in the morning and previous day didn't see much), and boy were we rewarded! Within five minutes we saw a giraffe, and then zebras up close. We were the only ones in our safari jeep, and our driver/guide was constantly on the phone with other drivers, spotting animals and driving everywhere:

and so, we ended up watching a black rhino cross the road just in front of us, and a full lion sleep in the shade by the pond, a cheetah sitting in the distance, a herd of elephants with two babies grazing in the bushes, all the while driving through beautiful landscape, spotting herds of gnu, springbok and warthogs with their babies playing by the road, and then impala, oryx and whatever the other antelope is called, then dozens of fun birds and flamingo (they come here only to breed) and ostrich...

We were mind-blown, and perfectly happy - but the best came at the end of the tour: on one side of the road, there were some 20 giraffes in the distance, their swaying silhouettes looking like dinosaurs'; on the other side, mere 10m away, there was an absolutely amazing, nat-geo scene: a cheetah mom with her three one-year-old pups!

To summarize: we paid $50 each for a 3h safari, not expecting much; we ended up driving through beautiful nature, spotting all kinds of animals like we're in the zoo, with our eager driver doing everything he could for 4,5h to find us the elusive animals while offering snacks and cold drinks (for free; and park entrance was also included in the price)… so yes, Etosha really is one of Africa's great wildlife-viewing venues, and we definitely recommend it!

Botswana is a stable country (relying on diamond industry, cattle and tourism) with warm people, amazing nature (the famous Okavango Delta, Kalahari Desert, and all the African wildlife you can think of), and at this time of the year, insane amounts of rain! It's not fun to ride during heavy rain, but it's even harder to camp when it just pours for eight hours straight, making everything you have damp and wet, and you can't dry anything because the hot sunny day turns into a downpour several times daily! By the way, lodging here is just terribly expensive (unless you camp like us; for example, a bungalow-tent for two is around $60 per night).

We stopped at Maun, the town at the edge of Okavango Delta.

The Unesco-listed delta is huge (18,000km2) and sustains abundant wildlife all year round (everything, from hyenas to leopards to elephants, and hundreds of other mammals).

We decided to experience Okavango on a mokoro, a dugout canoe that local people use to move around. It can fit two people, a bit of cargo, and a poler in the back (who is pushing mokoro forward with a pole) - it is amazingly stable and perfect for those shallow waters.

We absolutely enjoyed the tour: never mind the crazy bumpy drive there and back in a jeep, and the fact that our guide/poler was really pleasant and knowledgeable and took us for a walk to a water hole where we finally got to see some hippos (they're huge, and make funny noises!) - what is amazing is the peace and serenity you feel as you slowly glide just above the water surface, at the level of the thousands of water-lily blossoms; the total silence is interrupted only by chirping of the birds and quiet splashing of the water around the pole... We would do it once a week if we could, it was amazing.

We were now deep into our African trip, fighting the elements, enjoying the sights and relaxing into a true adventure! We were excited about what else was to come - moving on towards Chobe national park!

We rode all day towards Chobe National Park, expecting to be rained on a lot during those 600km, but there was only one shower, and the road itself was a fun safari: we saw around 15 elephants and two little herds of giraffes (with one baby!), grazing right by the road, and a few elephants, which are especially huge in this area, also crossed the road in front of us - a mind-blowing, unforgettable view!

We stopped an hour before our destination, built the tent and sat down - and then it started to POUR, and it poured all night and morning, over 20cm of rain dropped from the sky, making everything we owned damp and wet! We were miserable but had little choice, so we rode that last hour to Chobe in the hard cold rain, and got a room in the town of Kasane (which was really pleasant and only $35, a total miracle) and then slowly dried everything with a help of a fan for two whole days. We were so tired of rain!

Chobe, a park in Botswana's north-east corner, is one of Africa's great wildlife destinations, famous for large herds of massive elephants and abundance of other mammal species (leopard, lion, water buffalo, etc.) and hundreds of birds.

Everybody recommended the boat cruise, but the tours were so cheap (we had been just constantly lucky, we paid less and were always alone in the jeep, probably because we didn't stay and book tours in fancy lodges) that we decided to do both.

Well, the cruise was nice and the young guide was again knowledgeable and pleasant, plus we finally saw the water buffalo, but (after having seen many crocodiles and hippos, and having glided down the serene Okagavango river), this tour didn't take our breath away. It seemed like the safari (very early) the next morning was going to be even more uneventful...

...but then we spotted some jeeps parked close to a lioness a kilometer away - she was standing in the meadow while dozens of baboons were running around and past her; we hurried closer, and noticed that she was holding a dead baby baboon in her mouth! We stopped mere 10m away, and watched crazy drama unfold: that magnificent-looking cat with a dead tiny baby then started running after another baby, caught it, causing all of us watching to cry out, rooting for the poor little guy while our adrenaline went sky high!....but she then decided against dropping her dead prey from her mouth in order to kill another, and let the monkey go. We stared at her as she lay down and began to eat the baby, while the very upset baboons were watching and screaming from the trees, with their alpha male standing all mad and frozen pretty close to the cat. Unbelievable!!!

So, we had quite a bizarre beginning of what was our tenth wedding anniversary! We then took a nap and crossed the border to Zimbabwe, and were now camping in Victoria Falls; and here, finally, we were able to celebrate our day a little: there was an awesome microbrewery right next to our camp!

Zimbabwe

It was impossible to look forward to Zimbabwe after reading about it and hearing what people had to say: mostly friendly to tourists, but otherwise violent and ruined, a political and economical disaster; we would also have to deal with currency chaos and cash shortage (no ATMs), corruption, riots, gas shortage, and incessant police road blocks. Sounds lovely, right? We still went - entering Zambia would be just as expensive, plus there was nothing we wanted to see there (it was always good to skip a country, Africa was killing us with their visa fees!).

We went fruit shopping in Victoria Falls, and right away, we were utterly confused. We knew they have all kinds of official money (of which the USD is king) and are a poor country- but the stores looked decent, and they wanted $42 for a Nivea lotion, and $10 for six tiny apples! Well, it turns out that their other currency, the bond, is officially worth the same as USD (in reality, the bond was worth only one third of USD at the time), and the grocery stores and gas stations have to treat it that way. In reality though, the bonds are unreliable and potentially worthless, so everybody wants dollars (lots of bars and hostels only take USD, and some stores will give you "60% discount" if you pay in USD). Anyways, we were still confused, but relieved: we just needed local money, and then we would be able to eat again!

We loved the Victoria Falls, of course!!! However, you hear and dream about them, and then read the descriptions in guide books ("One of earth's great spectacles!" "A raging mile-long curtain of water, sheer power and force!" "Longest, most beautiful, most majestic waterfall on the planet!" "7th natural wonder of the world!") and then you go see the falls for yourself....and it's quite a sight, it's majestic, but not THAT insanely awesome - in fact, we were more mind-blown last year by the Brazilian Iguazu Falls! What we're saying is it's a ten, it's just not an eleven!

Anyway, if you come from Victoria Falls (a very touristy town with constant helicopter noise on the Zimbabwean side - they share the falls with Zambia, but this side is better) you pay $30 which is a bit much for a really simple one-hour walk, but the views are wonderful, and the whole experience is just very wet and nice (oh yes, bring a rain coat!). It's really great how you can see almost all of the 1,6km line of falls at once, plus, there is no fence at the main viewpoint, so you can be a bit reckless and go right to the edge! The falls were growing now, at the beginning of the rain season, but at their peak, around 1million tons of water falls down 100m in one second, into the wide strip of the Zambezi gorge. Well, that actually is really impressive, we're glad we stopped here!

From the Falls, we rode south-east across the country: the road was paved, and the views were especially pleasant in the north (the south is drier and has a garbage problem) - beautiful and green hilly landscape, with an occasional baobab tree and little villages where everybody waved at us...

The gas was easy to get in their westernized cities, it was available and there were no lines - but it was hard to pay for it (they only take cards, and those tend not to work). As for the notorious police check points, we had plenty, one every 50km or so (and sometimes three in 5km), but they only occasionally stopped us and even when they did, they let us go after a short pleasant chat; but, we were later told that this attitude was recent (you used to have to bribe your way through all those stops!) - after the coup in 2017 the police were put into their place, and are no longer allowed to take bribes.

We wanted to see Great Zimbabwe, situated in south-east of the country, because it's one of the rare African historical sights that have nothing to do with colonialism:

Great Zimbabwe (yes, the country is named after it) was a medieval capital city of the Bantu civilization, which dominated much of the sub-Saharan Africa and had a blooming trade with other countries (they went as far as Arabia and China).

You can walk around the well preserved UNESCO-protected ruins (nice walls and structures growing around giant boulders, with lovely nature all around), and take a look at some artifacts at the tiny museum. The city has three small complexes, and to us, the Hill Complex is a little reminiscent of Meteora (not as impressive, but they were both built on top of the hill, using the gigantic boulders), and then the view down from there of the Great Enclosure reminded us of Machu Picchu.

Great Zimbabwe is really nice, but honestly, you can skip it. However, we are really proud we made it here! We wanted to check it out, but it was too far, too insignificant, it was too hard and dangerous to get there - and yet we did it, we made it through Zimbabwe!

Next on the list was the crossing of yet another fun border, we were about to enter Mozambique! But as for Zimbabwe, it wasn't too bad at all, we felt very safe, everybody was really friendly...and it's just incredibly green, and apparently always sunny!

Mozambique

Back when we were entering Zimbabwe, we knew we were leaving the comfortable part of our trip behind - but Zimbabwe itself and then the Mozambique border (which was simple, they just wanted some of our time and money, plus they took our photos and fingerprints) were really no indication of what was ahead!

In the 1970s, the Portuguese became tired of all the resistance and left their colony overnight, leaving behind nothing (no infrastructure, no education) except for total chaos; the newly independent Mozambique then created ties with European communist countries, and for a while, things were going well - but political corruption (especially the fact that they helped South Africa in destabilizing their own country) lead to a terrible civil war in which once again, the whole country was destroyed; a fragile peace was established in the 1990s and now the 16 tribes (60% of the population is Christian, 20% Muslim, the rest maintain the ancient animalist beliefs) coexist in relative harmony.

So we entered Mozambique without any clue what it would be like, and quickly realized that it was, well, the politically correct term is probably "a developing nation".

Suddenly, the views from the road were incredible: lush tropical hills and valleys as far as the eye can see, and tiny simple farms, half hidden in the bushes, with their round houses made out of bright red dirt and grass; literally everybody was on the main road - and literally all along the whole long road - just hanging out in their bright clothes, or moving amazing amounts of cargo (usually firewood or charcoal) on small bicycles; laundry was done in every river we crossed, and there were plenty of police check points (but none of them stopped us) at every occasional little town (all of them dirty, messy, colorful and lively - but lacking stores of any kind).

Mozambique is very colorful and photogenic, but exhausting to travel: in the rural area (i.e. the vast majority of the country) there is mostly no running water (they use well water for washing, and a hole in the ground for toilet), no food to buy (no stores or street food, just suspicious-looking street markets), no camps, hardly any hotels and no bars, no internet....and then there are the roads! The Death Road in Bolivia is nothing compared to the 240km of the main road N1 (National road No.1)! We've never seen so many and such huge (car-swallowing) potholes! Plus there are tons of dust, red dirt, there are no shoulders; in other words, it's hard, and it's hot, and you cannot go faster than 40km/h, even on our sturdy enduros!

As for the people, their lives seem simple: raising the family, farming (surprisingly, we saw mostly corn fields), gathering wood, sitting around. They were mostly really nice to us (even if communication is usually a problem, nobody speaks English and some don't even speak Portuguese), everybody, especially little kids, was waving as we drove by, but they did stare at us all the time (they probably rarely see tourists or bigger motorcycles, and since they all hang out by the road, we had dozens of people gather and stare at us up close every time we stopped... we get it, but it was still creepy!), and honestly, most of them have quite a B.O., so that wasn't fun!

We were heading north, and spent a night camping for free at a Catholic mission (using the well water, and we had no dinner because the nearby restaurant we went to ran out of food), and then the next day we made it to the Indian ocean, where it smelled like salt, and seafood was sold by the road, and the Muslim women were wearing thin colorful long veils;

we crossed the narrow 4km bridge, and finally landed at our destination, the UNESCO-listed Mozambique Island (Ilha de Moçambique; and yes, the country got its name from it). Until 1898, it was the capital of colonial Portuguese East Africa, but its importance as a port waned after the opening of the Suez Canal.

It's pretty with the colonial old town and the local street life, it's real and not at all touristy, the afternoon light is amazing and the seafood is great - in short, the whole place could be a jewel, but the lovely colonial buildings are less than ten years away from crumbling into dust, and the locals are recklessly polluting their perfect sandy beaches and turquoise waters with their trash (we saw a young woman throw two bags of garbage into the water right in front of us). We did find a place with a big bed, wifi, shower and AC, so we were super happy on the island!

Well, Mozambique was quite an adventure, and a pretty one at that - but we learned that this was our limit - we're cool, but not that cool, we've had enough and wanted toilets and showers and simple stores, please! Hopefully we would have luck with that as we reach our next destination - for two long (hot, wild and exhausting) days, we would be riding towards another challenging country - Malawi!

We expected the two days of riding through Mozambique towards the Malawi border to be hard, but we of course had no clue about just how hard that would turn out to be.

Day one was long, and it included all the usual stuff (relentless heat, slick mud roads after a rainstorm, with nowhere to stop because there are no stops and every inch along the road is populated and full of people), plus it then ended with us riding on soft dirt in the night, and then looking for a hotel for an hour.

The next day was just as hot and long, but much worse: the road (main road to the border!) was gone. All that was left was a wide goat path made out of that bright red dirt, and it was full of nasty potholes and cracks, soft sand, and/or huge puddles (thankfully it didn't rain, because we wouldn't make it through, some of those puddles were 1m deep). At this point, we felt like we don't really have to go to west Africa, Congo cannot possibly have worse roads that that!

The amount of people hanging out along the road (and staring at us) was always big in Mozambique, but up here, hours away from any real civilization, it became ridiculous - we must have seen 100,000 people, half of them little kids! There is a crowd under every tree, in front of every little mud house...and every time we stopped, a big crowd gathered and just stared at us from a few meters away! We never felt threatened (some were actually afraid of us - little kids ran away if we looked at them, and moms kept an eye on their toddlers... we must have looked so weird to them!), but it was definitely annoying and uncomfortable - in the end, we would just stop and rest when there was enough shade in the middle of the road, which gave us some time before people started coming... To sum up, the whole thing was exhausting - 160 km took us 6 hours!

Malawi

So then, at sunset, we entered Malawi all beat and sweaty and terribly dirty; we barely found a sad-looking room and couldn't find anything resembling a store and so on (so much fun to just keep having issues even after you're seven times more tired than ever before), but whatever: the hardest part was over, paved roads, some sort of civilization and English language were back!

Malawi, by the way, is a poor former British colony with major issues (deforestation, corruption, overpopulation, 10% are infected with HIV, etc.), but with beautiful nature - forests in the south, grasslands in the north that resemble Scottish Highlands, and especially their big Lake Malawi.

On the next day we made it to one of the major destinations on Kyle's list - Monkey Bay by lake Malawi (did you know that Kyle is a fish nerd? He had a big fish tank for years, since he was little). Well, it turns out he was right: Lake Malawi is incredibly pretty!

Luckily, our friend Matej told us about his friend's lodge in Monkey Bay (near the more famous and touristy Cape Maclear with its white sand beaches; Monkey Bay is much more quiet and slow, really pleasant) where we wanted to camp, but were in the end given their room for volunteers and could use all their fancy bathrooms and patios as well, so that was nice.

We took their canoe and went snorkeling to the nearby small island, and it was great: the emerald-turquoise water was the perfect temperature, and it was a joy to swim around the huge smooth boulders and observe all the little (and not so little) fish swimming around.

The rest of lake Malawi was nice, but nowhere near as beautiful or fun, so we moved north pretty quickly; the landscape became really rustic close to the border (rice fields, farmers in the fields using oxen and traditional plough), and we got stopped and fined by the police because apparently, we didn't get bike insurance at the border (we thought we did, but the customs messed up! Thankfully, the fine was small...but it still hurt!).

So, was it worth coming to Malawi? The lake is great, though they do their laundry and dishes in it and there is malaria (hope we didn't catch it!) and bilharzia ("a parasitic worm infection that slowly destroys the kidneys and liver"- but this one is easy to get rid of, as long as you don't forget to buy the cheap pills at the local pharmacy before you leave, and then take them six weeks later!); also, the visas are expensive, there are constant power outages, a lack of stores and food variety (tomatoes, onions, corn and fish is pretty much the list), and then there is the body odor that we ound hard to stand even in big rooms...but the people are nice, constantly waving and smiling in those colorful shirts and long narrow skirts.

We're probably never coming back, but it was a nice break after Mozambique.

Tanzania

We made it to Tanzania!

And wow, that was one crazy border: it's not cheap or quick, but the real fun awaits only after you've made it through customs!

First, you have to pass an illegal roadblock (which is in plain view of customs, by the way) where the locals charge travelers $5 to enter the public road; most people obey, but, well, we just blew past the toll gate while they yelled at us!

Then you have to take a goat path through the garbage-filled border ghetto to get to the Comesa insurance booth (the instructions say it's 'next to the Samosa barber kiosk' :D )...and though Comesa is valid in many surrounding countries, you actually have to haggle the price down if you don't want to overpay! :D We successfully jumped that obstacle too, and then we were free to explore once again!

We entered Tanzania, the land of safaris, sand beaches along the Indian Ocean, complicated history and current tensions, and mostly Swahili culture; we already described the insanity that is the border, and it didn't get much better after that, the three days of riding toward Zanzibar were exhausting... Tanzania is a hot, dirty, intense, colorful mess!

The views at the beginning were surprisingly awesome: endless green hills, tea and banana plantations, little markets full of women wearing colorful dresses and head covers, selling avocados and pineapples - but the air stinks, because everybody drives old diesels that puke out endless black fumes. Then came another surprise: we went up to 2000m and it became cold! We ended our first day in Mbeya - a smoggy ugly town with no real stores and only one road that is absolutely clogged with traffic.

Day two was even harder: we rode all day and only did 500km (that's after we spent an hour looking for an ATM along that clogged road) because Tanzania's main road to the major city and port Dar El Salaam ("Dar" for short) is incredibly slow, packed full with nasty semi-trucks and strict speed limits. And since this is a country with a major corruption problem and ridiculous traffic rules (for example, you cannot pass in any of the thousands of little towns through which the road runs, so you often have to ride behind a heavy truck at the speed of 10km/h), there are thousands of policemen at that section, waiting with radars and cameras for your mistakes, so they can get their bribe. We got caught twice, and sort of bribed the first two guys by mistake (we said we didn't have enough money, so they took what they thought we had and let us go), but made sure the other wrote us a legit receipt (at least we hoped he did; we even made him take us to the police station to do it, but that was useless - his boss couldn't care less and was actually holding hands with his buddy at some point during the procedure :D ). Again, the fines weren't bad, but it stung to pay!

Well, at least we were near the national park area now, so the evening views were more than rewarding: dark green hills, plains covered with big baobab trees and bushes through which a red river was winding, baboons, pretty villages (with nothing for sale but onions - we were running out of food, couldn't even find fruit along the road anymore), and an occasional slender Masaai man walking by with his colorful robe, silver necklace and a long stick (by the way, we read that Tanzania tried to assimilate Masaai, but failed, so now they just let them be).

We started the third day very tired - but we had to get up early and move on and fight the heat, traffic and dirt all day again, we wanted to be in Zanzibar for Kyle's birthday!

Well, we needed 7 hours for 300km! First, we had to go slowly through the park, but that was fun, we saw dozens of giraffes, wildebeest etc; then, gradually, the usual mess became indescribable - no more need for speed limits, you cannot go faster than 50km/h (and when that is possible, you might get killed by a truck driver, half mad from traffic and speed limits, frantically passing another truck on your lane; we saw at least 10 big trucks lying by the road, destroyed in that day's head-on collision!), the road is packed, dirty and hot, taking you through hundreds of villages teaming with life and colors - crazy patterns of the Swahili dresses mixing with the Masaai robes and the bright covers of the Muslim women (even very little girls wear those pretty, glittering covers!)…

We finally arrived to the thriving and throbbing Dar (with 4 million people and quite a skyline), half dead from hours of focused slaloming in crazy heat and dust, and were stopped by a nice young local man and an enthusiastic fellow rider Irfan, who then helped us find a safe, nice hotel where we could get some rest and leave our bikes while we go to Zanzibar. All ended up well, it was party and holiday time!

So, on Kyle's birthday, we took the two-hour "fast" ferry to Zanzibar; it took over three hours, of course, but it was nice, we were put onto the VIP floor which had old (broken, but still comfy) first-class plane seats, AC, only a few quiet people, and a Sylvester Stallone movie playing, so we were able to relax and doze off - whereas downstairs, it was crazy full and hot, and babies and grandmas and chicken were all taking naps on the floor.

We got a room in a nice little hotel with a bar and a pool (nothing crazy, but still not cheap, lodging isn't cheap on Zanzibar, because the government is pushing high-end tourism only) and went for a walk; Zanzibar is a pretty version of Tanzania (and constantly proudly resisting the mainland, but that's another story), and we were finally in the position to be able to enjoy their hot mess - none of the usual fighting of elements like heat, dirt, roads, finding food, and of people selling everything and 'helping' you to park or whatever; we were just walking around the lively streets, tasting their fresh cane juice with ginger and lime, and waving away all the "Hakuna matata my friends! Where are you from? Come check out my store!" people.

In the evening, Kyle's birthday started to look a little sad - there was not one decent bar (there are some bars and restaurants, but they're unimpressive yet pretty expensive), and after we finally quit trying and had one last drink at our empty hotel's outdoor bar, a guy came to order a beer and politely asked where we were from....and long story short, he and his girlfriend were from Slovenia, and after we had a round, a young Turkish German travelling lawyer joined us as well, and soon the Slovenes pulled out a little bottle of rakija - and we had a few hours of a really fun birthday party! Thanks again for that, guys! :)

Zanzibar archipelago is famous for its pretty Stone Town, a mix of Arabian, African, Indian, and European influences (it's also where Freddie Mercury was born), and for its sandy beaches.

It was pleasant to stay in and walk around the winding alleyways of Stone Town, a nice mixture of Islamic and colonial, with lots to see; there are plenty of their famous carved doors and lattice-work balconies, a former slave market, sultan's buildings and mosques with muezzins calling to prayer, people selling tourist crap or awesome cheap street food (the chicken is amazing, and then there are cheap kebabs you dip into mango or spicy sauces, to which you can ad fluffy coconut bread, or just order a few portions of delicious mini burgers with fries and salad, or you can even buy chopped squid and octopus fresh from the sea).

On the verge of the old center is a big and lively fish and veggie street market (versus the overpriced touristy version on the main street, the Darajani Market) and colorful taxi vans full of Muslim women going home (or maybe to grocery stores somewhere - because there sure aren't any in town!).

Next, we wanted to check out their beaches; we were told by many that the popular northern tip is way too touristy and packed (for some reason, it's mostly Italian and Japanese tourist destination), so we didn't go - we don't like to stay in resorts (though maybe they had all that famous night life, because there definitely ain't much happening in town!) and access to beaches for non guests is usually an issue in such places. So instead, we rented a small motorcycle for a day and went east, where it's all way more zen, quiet, with rural coastal villages.

The road there, of course, was the usual hot dirty mess; and on the way back, of course, a cop stopped us and tried to get a bribe (he hoped Kyle didn't have Zanzibar's driving permit - an excuse for the island to take $10 from you, and no, your international driver's license doesn't interest them - but Kyle did have it; so then he tried something different, but, in short, we were really getting good at this stuff, so he had to let us go in the end).

Well, the famous beaches were not what you might expect: Yes, the sand is like white flour and the water is turquoise, it's all incredibly pretty and photogenic - but you can't really swim! During the day, the tide goes out at least a mile (1.5km)! So you come to the beach (where fake Masaai try to sell you stuff), and walk towards the water, and the sand becomes weirdly sticky and gooey wet, and then you walk past pretty and stranded dhows (wooden boats), to get to the warm shallow waters. The beautifully clear water then stays knee-deep forever, and it's there where most people are enjoying their tropical water walk, or kite-surf, enjoying the views, with the real waves still far far away. It's all a bit useless if you want a real beach (we had to go back to our hotel pool to cool off), but really really beautiful!

We both think Zanzibar is worth visiting - but only if you happen to be close enough, and it's winter where you are, and you find a cheap flight ticket.

So, that was it for the vacation and fun! It was hard to believe, but we were heading back to the tough real Tanzania, making our way north-east!

It turned out that we "had" to spend an extra day in Zanzibar - the tires we were getting in Dar were a day late, and why wait for them in an insanely hot dirty city, if you can postpone the hard reality (from where we were, it was hard to even fathom what was ahead of us!), and do all kinds of fun stuff, for example:

cool off in a nice pool hidden under palm trees, go check out where Freddie Mercury was born, then swim in Indian ocean during sunset (Zanzibar's city beach is developing a litter problem, but it's still nice with its white sand and lovely ocean, and it's fun how the tourists mix with the locals, everybody playing soccer, work out, swim, or read), and then dine on amazing yet cheap seafood...

The ferry back to Dar was better, but twice the price, so we bought the economy ticket ($25; the VIP was $50) - but we saw the VIP was empty so we went in, and were of course offered to stay if we each paid $5 to the staff! Seriously, the corruption in Tanzania is so rampant it's not even worth trying to resist...

After we got our bikes and then the tires (they were cheap, thanks Irfan!), we hit the road (well, joined the crazy Dar traffic again - we needed 90 min to do 30km!), moving west towards Rwanda.

The next day was long, but nicer: the roads became empty, the landscape prettier, wilder and more arid, and then we started seeing mountains....nice, though when we rode through tiny villages, the now stronger winds also blew around lots of plastic bags which is always a frustrating sight.

Oh, and we also met a fun Iranian couple on little 250 Yamahas (she lives in Canada and races motorcycles!). We ended the day in the town of Same, where we met a bunch of young mellow Peace Corps Americans, who after two years of living on the mountain farms with the locals were returning home.

We were excited about the next day - we were going to see Kilimanjaro!

...Well, as huge and close as that mountain is, we didn't see much of it, just the very top for a few seconds (and yes, it was covered in snow), it was completely hidden behind clouds - we couldn't even take a bad picture, let alone an awesome selfie!

We ended the day in the town of Arusha, the starting point of Serengeti tourism and home to lots of expats (and one Peace Corps girl - from Pittsburgh!). We went grocery shopping for the road ahead and apparently, most expats come to the (posh, for Tanzania) outskirts mall on Sundays; we met a lady from Spain, Mick from Australia on his KTM950, and Paul from England, and we had a nice hourlong chat.

These are some hardcore folks: they all moved here some 20 years ago and love it, and have been doing some crazy stuff in the meantime (Mick drove his truck across Southern Sahara, Paul rode through the Middle East etc.).

We rode on, and you could tell we were close to Serengeti (which we decided not to visit, we've done two safaris already and will do two more in Kenya, and Serengeti is very expensive - 2 days for two people with a truck camper costs $450!), the views were beautiful as we moved through simple Masaai villages, little farm towns, savannah and rolling hills, and then up into the mountains where people were all smiles (and where the heat became bearable to us - but for the locals on mopeds, it was cold, they wore winter jackets).

The last day in Tanzania was going to end terribly, because the last 100km were supposed to be all loose gravel with some crazy refugees lurking from the bushes as well! Well, sure, we had to do some serious dusty slalom around big potholes, but that was it, we moved quickly! No refugees either, just big weird storks, cows with huge horns, and suicidal bus drivers to whom motorcycles mean nothing, they don't even slow down when they're about to run you over!

…That's it for Tanzania, it was exhausting, unforgettable, but we were not sorry to be leaving that hot, corrupted, colorful mess! On to Rwanda!

Rwanda

Rwanda is famous for the 1994 genocide and gorilla tracking in the equatorial mountain jungles; it is also known to be very stable and orderly, and honestly, after the intense Tanzanian experience, we were looking forward to some peace and quiet.

After the Tanzanian border, the road turned into figure eight, and just like that, we were driving on the right side again, and it felt great!

Next, we tried to get some of that peace and quiet at the lake Kivu: we wanted to visit the wilder Kibuye (rocky coast, islands, steep hills...), but it was rainy and foggy so we pushed on to the more touristy part of the lake, to Gisenyi, which lies right next to the Kongo border.

We didn't like it: very resort-ish, expensive, and we stayed at a terrible camp (for example: there was only one women's toilet for both the restaurant and all the campers, with a big dead cockroach in the cupboard, and with both leaking faucet and sink, which meant the floor and toilet paper were wet) where we met five fun and knowledgeable travelers, so we had a pleasant evening after all.

Either way, we were done with Rwanda: as green and nice as it is, it's very expensive for what it offers (and yes, we really wanted to do the gorilla tracking, but that costs over $1000 a person, and to us, that's just wrong, even if we could afford it!), there is the treating of animals as things, and staring and asking for money ("Give me money", just like that, kids and adults alike come and want it - we hear that it gets worse as you go north, plus little kids in Ethiopia like to throw rocks at drivers, you know, for fun!), there are long power outages and no washing machines (well, either we pay $2 a piece of clothing in Gisenyi, or we will find one laundry place in the faraway Kenyan capital Nairobi, and that's it!).

It's not really Rwanda's fault; you may notice from the tone of this report that we were getting tired from endless challenges, plus we were starting to understand that we needed to get it together, realize that this is nothing as comfortable as, say, South America, and relax into all this tough colorful craziness, because it only gets more intense (and more expensive) from here!

Uganda

After a slow but easy Ugandan border (where they measured our temperature and decided we were healthy enough to enter), the windy road took us through lovely steep hills that looked like they were made of little squares (fields, gardens), and we landed at Uganda's prettiest lake, Lake Bunyonyi ("Place Of Many Little Birds").

And it was pretty, quiet, with many little birds - a nice setup for the work we had to do: Kyle had to change the tires and Stina had to do laundry by hand.

From there, we decided to go on a pleasant five-hour ride: the road would take us west, through Queen Elisabeth National Park, and then we'd end our day near Fort Portal, by the pretty little volcanic Nacubra Lake (one of the Crater Lakes), in a fun camp that is constantly visited by monkeys.

Well, that didn't go exactly as planned: the road was so bad that two glass jars with condiments exploded in Kyle's back case (we'd done some crazy riding, but that had never happened before) and Stina broke her aluminum chain guard in four places!

It was relentless: from white to red dust, endless insane speed bumps (some were made out of dirt), huge potholes, construction, smoggy traffic and burning trash and intense heat, loose gravel, occasional bag of garbage flying out of vehicles and past our heads, and on and on, what a crazy ride, and of course we saw no wildlife except for one laid-back warthog...

On the other hand, the end of the day was beyond nice: we sat in front of our tent, completely spent, having beer and eating the camp's simple but delicious dinner (rice and veggie stew), and got to watch three different kinds of monkeys climb the surrounding trees above the lake, and play and fight all around the camp! There were the curious and naughty gray vervet monkeys, the pretty black-and-white colobuses with their big awesome tails, and even the rare red colobus monkeys.

It was glorious, it was Africa: there we were, in Uganda at sunset, listening to monkeys and frogs, somewhere out there, above a crater lake :)

After the monkeys were playing and climbing everywhere all morning (even on our bikes - and of course stole a granola bar), and after meeting some interesting travelers (girls from Israel, and a fun young couple from an island far up in northern Australia), it was hard to leave.

The road to the capital was good, but still incredibly smoggy (really, this constant thick mix of black diesel fumes, red dirt and burning trash is not fun on a motorcycle), and it was nice to see many country women wearing a special kind of dress (long, with stiff pointy shoulders), and long colorful covers over their dresses.

In the dynamic, real big city of Kampala, we finally found wifi and a great grocery store (Thanks, Shoprite! xoxo) where we also learned that around here the polite way to say "No" is to say "No problem" instead :D

….And then a bizarre thing happened: we were packing our groceries into our bikes in front of the mall, and a dressed-up gentleman approached us, saying his name was Jimmy and that he was an enthusiastic rider and just wanted to greet us. He said it was a shame it wasn't Sunday, or he would gather his group of moto friends and we would go for a ride - but that he could maybe figure something out for tomorrow, so we should tell him where we're staying. We thought why not (though we really didn't feel like riding around Kampala on our day off, we were tired and the traffic in the city area is insane), because meeting local people is always great, we were glad he was that interested and gave him our contact. The next day he did come to visit (with his big sport bike, but only to chat, he had to go to work) and even arranged a mechanic for Stina's chain guard (who then took it to the welder, and it got repaired quickly and flawlessly). We asked him what he did and he said he was a politician. After a few more questions we found out that he was in the leftist party and an MP (member of parliament) of Uganda. We were confused and a bit curious, but he didn't really want to talk about himself too much; instead, he showed us the pictures of his and his little boy's dirt bikes. To sum up, it was a short, quiet, pleasant visit by a fellow biker in the middle of the day. After he was gone however, the staff was all excited and told us they knew Jimmy - and that his father was "Father of Uganda"! ...In other words, the man who just paid us a visit was the son of Milton Obote, who, according to Wikipedia, "was a Ugandan political leader who led Uganda to independence in 1962 from British colonial administration. Following the nation's independence, he served as Prime Minister of Uganda from 1962 to 1966 and President of Uganda from 1966 to 1971, then again from 1980 to 1985. He was overthrown by Idi Amin in 1971, but regained power after Amin's 1979 overthrow." (it goes on, look it up). Like we said, bizarre! We're just glad we have a picture to prove it! :D

We then rode to nearby beautiful green Jinja, the source of the Nile (but the 80km still took two hours, and due to the mix of a messy road and heavy rains we made it to the camp incredibly dirty); to be exact, the source of the White Nile, emerging from the giant Lake Victoria - the other, the Blue Nile, begins in Ethiopia.

After a fun last day in Uganda (during which we met a little yellow frog and some monkeys with funny noses, and jumped into the Nile), we crossed into Kenya...

That's it for Uganda! We really liked it! And the people are nice too! We didn't see as much of Uganda's extraordinary nature as we'd like (like, did you know they have the tallest mountain range in Africa?), and we came closer to its turbulent political life than we thought we would, but we did really like it! On to Kenya!

Kenya

The border was easy, but the road ahead was not - we quickly learned that the Kenyan driving is notorious for a reason! Cars, vans and trucks coming from the opposite side all pass carelessly and full speed on your lane, flying towards you like torpedoes, giving you no choice in the matter - you have to move aside or even get off the road! We soon learned how to deal with it (and were able to travel quickly since everybody expects you to behave in the same way), and it's crazy and dangerous, but actually doable, as long as you pay 100% attention 100% of the time.

We made it to a camp (well, it's an awesome local bar that also lets you camp) on a beautiful peninsula at Lake Victoria, where we just wanted to take it easy before the next day's long ride to Nairobi; instead, we had a fun/informative/terrible/bizarre twelve hours and left the place absolutely exhausted, with another fun story to tell:

After the beautiful sunset, we went to the bar and met a group of expats from all around (India, Canada, Germany etc.) who gave us a lot of insight into Kenya and its people, and our conversation turned into a fun little party - it was Friday night, after all!

We read that Kenya is a mix of influences and tribes from everywhere (and that tribal affiliation is more important to them than nationality) and that even though it knew stable and prosperous times (during the colonial times, but also in late 20th century) and values education, it is now considered a poor country.

Here are also some things we learned about the locals from the perspective of Mzungus (people from European descent): they are lovely people (and all the expats love it here, and most are married to a local and have children), but come from an incredibly different cultural background, so even though everybody may be trying, it's often hard to understand each other, and it can get exhausting to achieve anything. There is the dog-eat-dog attitude of "take what's there, while you can"; but on the other hand, there is the strong tribal mentality which means they're content as long as everybody has the same amount, even if it's not much (which also implies that they won't work better for a better pay, but will take if they feel they're lacking).

So, we were talking and at around 10pm we started to hear very loud music coming from somewhere else. We were told that it was a funeral party across the bay: most locals are very poor (we heard that on average, with a full time job they make only $80/month) and often don't have enough money to pay for a relative's funeral, so they have an all night party where the guests pay to hear their music requests - and that can go on until 4am or even the next morning! Well, we were tired, had some beers, so we hoped that if we put in earplugs we'd be ok... Nope! Soon later we took some melatonin as well, but still didn't get much sleep - the music was really loud, incessant, and it went on until 8am! We sure hope they collected lots of money - because we were fried, and a bit worried as well, we were about to do a hot long intense all day ride!

As we were having our morning coffee, feeling like zombies, a beautiful young woman approached us, dressed more for a Saturday night club than for a morning coffee in nature, with full make up on and with most of her pink underwear showing - and said they were shooting a video and asked if they could use our bikes! So half an hour later, we were staring at her and her other rap girl, sitting and doing sexy moves on our bikes, right in front of our tent! :D They said the video would be out in two weeks and that the song was called Nusu Nusu, by Bochaberi (feat. Kigabendi), so we should look for it. (Actually, it took a while and it was released a year later, so now - finally! - our bikes are YouTube stars! :D ).

We left late, and it was an intense 6-hour ride across the mountains (we went over 2,700m at one point!), and after a while Stina was so tired that we had to stop so she could take a one-hour nap (well, she as pretty much in a coma) on the lawn in front of a gas station. :D All was well though, we then safely made it to Nairobi!

We made it to Nairobi just in time to figure out our Ethiopian visa (which was a bit annoying, but simple, because we were lucky to not have to deal with the lady nicknamed "The Black Dragon", who apparently really likes to refuse visa applications), before picking up Kyle's mom from the airport, to spend a few days exploring national parks together.

Nairobi (3.5mi) is definitely the most cosmopolitan city we've seen in East Africa, and though it's incredibly dusty with crazy smoggy traffic, and its fancy stores are more heavily guarded than the US embassy (they use x-rays and dogs!), it does have lovely climate (it's at 1660m, so the summer days turn into pleasantly fresh nights) and, surprisingly, lots of wildlife to explore, including a small but real national park in the outskirts!

After some catching up, we decided to go check out some giraffes and baby elephants:

David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust takes care of the orphaned baby elephants, introducing them into the wild when they grow up. And every day, for $5, they let visitors watch them being bottle-fed for an hour, while lecturing and answering questions. The whole thing is so sad and cute that Lorey decided to "adopt" an elephant, which meant donating $50 to a chosen elephant (hers was a 3-year-old girl whose trunk almost got cut off by a poacher's snare) and being allowed to come back and watch them have dinner and go to bed that same evening.

In the afternoon we visited the Giraffe Centre - the wildlife reserve that protects and breeds the highly endangered Rothschild's giraffe (the one with white socks- so Stina was excited to also wear white socks!) and combines that, for $10, with fun for the visitors: you can observe, hand-feed, and even kiss them! We didn't go to the famous lodge where you dine on the upper floor while they look at you through the open windows, that is reserved for the well-off people who stay there; but it was lovely to watch them move like slow ships at sea, looking content (and most were pregnant as well), see them from up close and hand feed them, learn about them, and even get an occasional kiss (ok, they take the snack you hold with your lips, but still!)... They are so huge and strong yet so elegant, and have the biggest blackest eyes!

In the evening, we went back to the elephants, and watched the cutest baby stampede towards the stalls where they knew the milk bottles and other dinner snacks were waiting for them. It was fun to watch them clumsily nibble on branches and even get to pet some of them, and see the little ones get covered with evening blankets by the guards who actually slept with them in the stalls.

It was a really nice day, mom and son reunited, and then all that cuteness overload...but then it was time to get into the old rented Landcruiser and hit the road towards the real wilderness!

Masai Mara is the Kenyan side of the famous (and much bigger) Tanzanian Serengeti; its vast sunburnt savanna with acacia trees is full of wildlife: black rhino, spotted hyenas, lions, leopards and cheetahs, elephants, giraffes, all kinds of animals with hooves, jackals, etc. And though it's best to visit between July and October (provided you don't mind high prizes and crowds of people), because that is when the world-famous migration of millions of wildebeest (and thousands of zebras and topis as well) searching for fresh grass takes place, we still had an absolutely amazing time.

After we survived the six hours of insane traffic and then the horrible road to the park (really, the roads to the Kenyan best national park are at the level of those Mozambique roads in the middle of nowhere) in an old rugged vehicle, it was sunset time and we were tired and occasionally a bit lost (better said, the road disappeared) - but we started to see little herds of zebras running in front of that African evening sun, and then giraffes, and mongoose, a rabbit and an ostrich, and some warthogs and baboons!

So by the time we made it to the Masaai camp at the park entrance ($8/person, a true miracle, even if during off-season), where a Masaai man made a bonfire for us and we had a relaxed chat with him over a glass of wine, all was forgotten and we were excited about the next morning!

Masai Mara (and everything around it) is expensive: $80/person plus $40/vehicle per day (and then $500 per room if you don't want to camp!).

We will let the pictures speak for themselves, but in short, we went into the park early, spent a whole long day driving around in our safari jeep in the dry dusty heat, and loved every minute of it!!!

The scenery around us was something like Out Of Africa, yellow grasslands with an occasional green bush or a flat tree, with hills in the back, and herds of all sorts of animals (elephants, water buffalo, zebras, antelopes and impalas and topis, and many kinds of birds); we also saw a hyena (which was on Stina's wish list) and even a lion, and walked to that famous wildebeest crossing spot (with hippos and crocs waiting for the rain in the shallow waters)….but in the end, we all agreed that our favorite were the hundred or more giraffes and their offspring, slowly and quietly walking around, crossing the road in front and behind us, and looking at us with curiosity; it just fills you with utter calm and reverence for nature... As far as we're concerned: if you can, do visit Masai Mara!

We left the park on the other, western side, and the road was even worse, and longer! After hours of dusty shaky hot off-road driving through the country, inhabited by the Masaai, we stopped at Maji Moto, a Masaai village and asked (and paid) for a little tour of a farm/household.

The village was a dustbowl, but it was simply amazing to see the outfits and elaborate jewelry most of them wore (Masaai are wrapped in red cloth because red color is sacred to them, and most of them have very extended and decorated earlobes, with earrings hanging from the top of the ears, and they have their lower front teeth removed, and women often shave their heads - this all has to do with tradition, symbolism and beauty).

We were lucky - we also saw a few of the "Lion Guardians", the young male warriors, in their distinct attires. To be initiated into manhood, the "moran" (meaning :"Lion Warriors") traditionally had to prove their bravery by killing a lion; but now, the Masaai tradition is honored in a different way: instead of killing the animals, the young men protect the lions and Masaai from each other by keeping track of the lions, warning the herders, and looking for lost cattle.

The farm we visited was fenced in with thick layer of sticks and branches, and inside was a little house and another fenced-in area next to it, in which they kept the nursery of their cattle (baby goats, lambs and calves, waiting for moms to be brought home from the dry sandy grasslands). We met two very nice children and a wife (to greet them, we were told to touch the tops of their heads and say "Soba"), and entered the house.

It was incredibly tiny - one dark little room, with a floor firepit (with no chimney and two little holes for windows), two nooks covered with cow skin for sleeping, and a little bench (and no water and no power).

We sat down with the family, with the children contentedly leaning on us, and learned a bit about their culture, for example: a Masaai man can marry as many women as he wants (and as many as he can afford - some have two, some twenty or more), and then each wife builds a house for her and the children out of mud, wood and cow dung; the wives then take care of the households, and the husband tends to the cattle; for breakfast, they usually drink a mix of milk and cow blood - they cut a cow's neck with a fresh arrow a little, "extract" some blood, then cover the wound with cow dung so that it heals!

We made it to Nairobi very late, and we were so exhausted, full of impressions, and so incredibly dusty (both us and all our stuff) that we decided to take a day off - during which we got clean and did absolutely nothing.

After another day of appalling traffic and corrugated gravel roads, we arrived at Amboseli, the national park famous for picture-postcard views of (lots of big) elephants in front of Kilimanjaro (5,895m). We didn't think it could beat Masai Mara and really only came to enjoy some more Kenyan wildlife and see the Africa's tallest mountain, but Amboseli turned out to be absolutely mind-blowing!

Besides the right now very dry and hot African savanna, there are also the permanent lush green swamps around which all sorts of animals gather, and so you can constantly enjoy gazing at breathtaking combinations of wildlife set against the backdrop of intense green, with the vast and tall snow-capped Kilimanjaro in the very back...

We saw big herds of elephants with giant tusks (because luckily, Amboseli has largely been spared the poaching holocaust), all kinds of birds (from flamingos and ostriches to ducks and hawks), and plently of big fat hippos, and herds of zebras and wildebeest and water buffalo, and some very full and lazy spotted hyenas, a couple of curious jackals and baby bat-eared foxes, and a pride of three playful lionesses who were waking up in the late afternoon, getting ready to hunt!

(We also saw a few little Masaai shepherd boys with their herds of cows and sheep, and found the view disturbing - cattle is everywhere in Africa, and it just doesn't seem right to also invade the few spaces still available to wildlife; but we were told that Masaai and their cattle have lived with the wildlife for thousands of years, that this is perfectly natural, and that in fact, they don't have to pay entrance fees to get into the national parks and are welcome to bring their cattle there, especially during the dry season).

It's all a chaotic mix of unforgettably beautiful impressions, so before this post gets too long, we'd just like to list some of Lorey's favorite moments: the large elephant herd (50 or more, with lots of babies) hanging out in the distance, and then the huge elephants with impressive tusks slowly grazing in the marshes right next to us, belly deep in the water; the inquisitive zebras observing a mating lion couple from pretty damn close; the crazy compositions of animals, posing for us in front of Kilimanjaro; and the beautiful Milky Way (her first!) above our bonfire at a Masaai camp right outside the Amboseli.

To sum up, The Lion King was obviously based on a true story, and The Circle Of Life is the perfectly accurate soundtrack to Amboseli. :D

That was it for Lorey's visit, we were on our own again; in the end, we all agreed that Kenya is exhausting and dusty, but simply amazing. As for us, we're proud of Lorey coming here to us in Africa all alone, and we had a feeling that this week might have been the peak of our African adventure!

Many people have told us that Ethiopia was not going to be a fun country to travel; in addition, the day before we left Nairobi, we had a long talk with a Dutch couple who (like many before them) had just changed their mind and returned to Kenya because the Ethiopian south was an exhausting tourist trap - while in the north, things got too dangerous for travelers (angry mobs, burning tires, and army all along the road). ...Well, we planned to fly our bikes to the west coast from Addis Ababa, plus we're awesome and brave, so we still decided to give it a shot and go.

The ride north to the Ethiopian border took two days and was unexpectedly fun:

The first surprise was that we went way up into the mountains - we ended up camping at 2,000m, near the pretty Mt Kenya, and it was really cold!

Then, the usual Kenyan road mess suddenly turned into an empty, good mountain highway which was a joy to ride; plus, we saw many Palm Sunday processions (priests and quire boys leading the group of villagers, all singing and carrying palm branches).

The third surprise was an abrupt descent into a very hot but beautiful desert, full of tribes unknown to us...and of deer with very long necks, and a really tiny kind of deer, some big weird grey birds, ostriches with babies - and lots of camels! Some of the desert tribes looked almost, but not quite like Masaai: men had on only knee-long skirts and big disks in their earlobes, and women wore bright green and red shifts and pretty little ornamented headdresses. Sometimes, the tribal attires gave way to the colorful Muslim robes, and most of the desert farmers lived in unbelievably small (and low - they looked like little loafs of bread!) huts made out of branches, covered with any type of fabric, plastic, tarp or even cardboard.

It was a lovely ride - and then we crossed the border.

Ethiopia

We initially wanted to see the Lower Omo Valley in the south, with all the diverse peoples (e.g. the Mursi tribe, famous for their lip plates), but we later learned that it was all quite fake around Omo now, they mostly wear and do all that traditional stuff for tourists, and it costs a ton of money to see any of it (you have to pay a guy for a tour, and another guy that waits for you there or whatever the excuse, and also the guy whose help you refused just so he leaves you alone, and then you pay the chief, and for photos, etc.), plus the roads were too bad for Stina, and so we decided to skip it, but to still take the long way up to Addis, staying close to Omo, and maybe see some of the wilderness and cultural variety.

The border took a while, but it was easy; then, the desert became greener, landscape was pretty, and we had some camels and some rain...but soon we realized that what we were told by some custom officers and many seasoned travelers was true: Ethiopia is terribly overpopulated (over 100 million and growing fast!), and its people are, well, just unpleasant!

There were people everywhere, and everybody was either waving us down, yelling "Money!" with their hand open, or the guys tried to intimidate or throw something at us, hopefully for pure fun (on day one, Kyle got a threat with a machete, one guy spat at him, and another threw a corn)a - nd we even saw a naked man, standing on a truck, thrusting his hips towards us, laughing like a maniac! It was even crazier when we stopped: a crowd quickly gathered, and they stood too close, and they leaned on our bikes, and many asked for money, and they stared from up close...nothing horrible, but definitely uncomfortable!

The road went from good to bad, and towards sunset, it was so packed with cattle that it was hard to move on (Ethiopia seems to have more cattle than any other country); but the rural sights along the road in the south are a traveler's dream, it's all right there, intense, you see them live their lives, in and around the (sometimes prettily painted) clay huts, the kids playing with sticks and stones, adults working in the fields, all so humble, simple, tough and ancient!

We ended the day at an old run-down resort where we found a cheap room, and had our first injeras (stew or meat on a very sour fluffy pancake) which are good but very spicy, and we came to the conclusion that this is the hardest country we've ever traveled: the nature is stunning, but there is a horrifying amount of trash everywhere; there is nowhere to pee - no nature by the road, no rest stops of any kind, and no privacy; there is also no food (no stores or even street markets - we actually never saw anybody eat all day!), and gas is hard to find (we found only one gas station on our first day, and they wanted to charge us ten times the price, so we left!), people seem as harsh as their life (though we saw plenty of men hold hands, a sign of friendship), there were lots of little children carrying wood, water, or driving donkey carts, and they're really not nice to their working animals, plus there is the language barrier (English is usually useless).

On the second day, we got caught in a massive rain storm, saw around 17 million people (out of which 10 million yelled at us), and found gas twice (both times, the lines were long, and the men were very aggressive, trying to fill their containers and mopeds, even getting into real fights while trying to grab the gas pump - but we were told to skip the line and pay 5 cents per liter more, which we gladly did!).

We ended the day at a camp by a pretty pink lake (the color comes from the red mud and volcanic soda ash) where dinner was cheap and good, but there was trash everywhere and the toilets were made in hell (Ethiopia is excellent at that! :D ).

Here, we came to the conclusion that we were not afraid anymore, that we were going to get some rest and supplies in Addis Ababa and then go north to Lalibela (we were writing these sentences from Addis, where there was wifi and almost nobody was staring at us anymore, and where we also found out that things calmed down in the north somewhat), but that we would be quite happy when this adventure was over (because traveling Ethiopia on a motorcycle is definitely an awesome adventure! We were seriously pushed out of our comfort zone!): it's hard to constantly fight for food, gas, roads, lodging, toilets, hygiene and privacy!

On our first day (i.e. on Good Friday where we come from), the ride towards Lalibela in northern Ethiopia took us even higher than Addis Ababa, we climbed from 2,000m to 3,000m; up there, the landscape looked alpine, with trees, green meadows, mists and clouds floating onto the road, the air was thinner and it was cold!

The people on their terraced mountain farms looked a bit like the Bedouins, all covered with capes and blankets; and they also seemed calmer than people down in the hills and valleys, it was all very quiet, only a few looked and waved, and there was no begging. We ended the day back at 2000m, where the camels and heat and the usual turmoil returned - and where we saw, even though it was a Muslim town, two almost naked young women, one quietly sitting on the bridge topless and the other walking around naked, except for the piece of cloth she was holding on her chest... No idea why!

The next day was one of those long, fun and hard riding days you don't easily forget - it felt a bit like we were in a video game, with interesting and surprising obstacles constantly placed in front of us: we were dodging humans, vehicles and all kinds of animals (sheep, goats, cattle, horses, donkeys, chicken, and of course camels) who were jumping onto and hanging out on the road; looking for fuel (no problem, we found two stations in ten hours) and places to pee and eat lunch in peace; riding on gravel, mud and potholes and through pouring rain and thick cold mountain fog, etc.

After seven long hours (most of which we spent riding through Muslim villages, with men wearing skirts and wide green-yellow leather belts, and with many women completely covered), at 5pm, we suddenly realized that we didn't have to continue on a decent road and spend a night in a bad hotel, but that we could push on instead, and after 65km of off-road we could end our day in Lalibela!

So of course we decided to go for it, and it was hard because it was raining and it was muddy and we were really tired (plus a boy threw a rock at Kyle, why do they do that?!), and it was interesting to move through those simple remote mountain villages with people excitedly screaming at us, and it was also sad - all those mountains looked barren, apparently all the trees had been cut down, and where there were trees left, there were big piles of tree trunks all along the road waiting for transportation...it makes you wonder, again, about what are we doing to the planet and to the future generations, how to deal with all that endless human need and greed, where and how does it end?!

After two hours, we made it to Lalibela half dead and in the dark, but found a cheap hotel with really nice staff, good food and a big bed, so all was well!

Lalibela is an ancient Christian center and a place of pilgrimage, famous for its eleven medieval Unesco-protected churches, which are built below ground level and carved into the rock. As Wikipedia puts it, "Ethiopia was one of the earliest nations to adopt Christianity in the first half of the fourth century, and its historical roots date to the time of the Apostles. The churches themselves date from the seventh to thirteenth centuries... The layout and names of the major buildings in Lalibela are widely accepted, especially by local clergy, to be a symbolic representation of Jerusalem."

People in the area are deeply and passionately religious; and since Ethiopian Orthodox Christians are a week behind the Gregorian calendar, it was Palm Sunday when we were there (while it was Easter in most Europe and USA), so there were many white-clad pilgrims in Lalibela in the morning, wearing palm leaves (also, most places only serve vegan food, meat is forbidden for two whole months before Easter!).

We loved everything about Lalibela but the price ($50 per person for active churches in this very modest area seems a bit much): it was awesome to see the churches (and yes, the most famous one, the tiny Bet Giyorgis/St. George which is shaped as a Greek cross, really is breathtakingly beautiful), cut and carved from stone, sunk below ground level, looking all ancient but with people actively praying in them, with foreheads on the ground and kissing the walls on the way out, keeping them alive.

It's funny how on the inside, it's all simple (apart from some intricate carving and frescoes) and a bit messy, there are old carpets thrown around (on which you walk barefoot), kitschy curtains hanging from the ceilings, and colorful paintings randomly leaning on walls, and then there are things just laying around, like drums, more carpets and plastic containers... On the outside, there are lots of holes in the walls, into which people climb to meditate, and many narrow rock corridors, steps, and there is even a dark tunnel, all connecting the churches to one another - Kyle says it's all like a big art installation, a sculptor's paradise!

Oh, and the town itself may be full of tourists, but we haven't really noticed that - it feels real, its people are very nice and there are plenty of real pilgrims, plus the food is great!

So to sum up - we loved Lalibela, and we're glad we rode all the way up instead of flying (which is cheap, $100 from Addis), it was lovely to mingle in and overdose on the intense Ethiopian culture and history, we really recommend it!

After a day's ride (which included everything we're used to in Ethiopia by now - the combination of some crazy off-road, constant dodging of animals and humans, amazing views of tall mountains and canyons similar to the American Southwest, bad roads, rustic villages, a shower or two, and being cold at 3,000m), we made it to Gondar.

Gondar (or Gonder, but not Gondor), is "Africa's Camelot", the ancient royal Ethiopian city. The royal enclosure (70,000m2 of castles and palaces) was home of many emperors and princesses from 12th to 20th century; now, it's an easy walk around pretty buildings and walls, and it's nice to see a real castle in Africa...but that's it, it's just well-preserved walls, and we found it a bit underwhelming.

The nearby Debre Berhan Selassie church was way more interesting, it's a beautiful church, inside and out: the twelve towers guard it from the outside (mostly from the past attacks by the Sudanese), there are beautiful frescoes on the inside, and it's full of worshippers: when we were there, we saw many just sit, pray, or even nap in the courtyard, while inside, a young man read from a huge bible, surrounded by old and young listeners.

There is still more to see in northern Ethiopia; from the high Simien mountains to Churches of Tigray (high up there, built on cliffs and difficult to reach) - but the distances are vast and riding through Ethiopia is exhausting; we were tired, plus we felt that we saw enough of their high mountains and churches - so we decided it was time to return to Addis, and get ready to fly to the west coast.

..and at the end of the first day's ride, we, and especially Stina, ran out of luck, and we had a pretty bad 24 hours.

First, in the evening, we had an hour before sunset with only 25min to go to reach our roadside hotel, but we were riding into a huge storm; suddenly, the sky went completely dark, and we couldn't see a thing and we slowed down - but that still wasn't good enough, because farmers around here don't care that they and their animals are not visible, and so Kyle rode into a herd of donkeys and barely dodged them, smacking one or two, but Stina, hard on her breaks, still hit one and fell; really, it sounds worse than it was, Stina was completely fine (and the donkey too, but he was mad for being punched in his stomach by her front tire and ran away), but it gave us a good fright and we were really happy when we landed at our hotel.....which was a terrible shithole. We won't go into everything that was wrong with it and its staff (and that list is long) - but there were two used condoms under our little crooked bed!!! ….

Then Stina got sick in the middle of the night (nothing terrible, but none of us got much sleep), but got it together and we rode away late in the morning. After lunch she felt better, and we were 60km away from Addis, looking forward to being done and stay somewhere peaceful and clean....but then, for the great finale, Stina got into a car accident.

Kyle passed a slow truck, and Stina followed but changed her mind because she couldn't see far enough (it was a right-hand turn) and started moving back into her lane - and then a fast SUV came around the corner, not paying attention, so Stina could only step on breaks and try to move away, but they hit each other on the side (Stina's left pannier hit the left side of the car), and she fell and was sliding down the road for 10m!

Luckily, it all ended well, Stina and both vehicles suffered only scratches! Still, even though there was no need for even Band-Aids, it was scary and awful, because this is one of those things that are hard to predict and avoid, little mistakes made on all sides, nothing really wrong and nobody's fault (the other vehicle agreed, and once they saw Stina was fine, they quickly left), there is nothing to learn from the experience - but it was still potentially deadly, this is why motorcycles are dangerous! On the other hand, we were not going too fast, we weren't reckless, and we (as always, no matter what), wore all the protective gear - so nothing serious happened, and there is definitely a lesson in that! Anyways, we then made it to our hostel, and Stina got fever from all the drama, but we had a good night's sleep and felt as good as new in a day!

Next challenge: getting bikes on that plane to Senegal quickly and cheap - good luck with that!

As everything in Ethiopia, getting the bikes onto a plane is complicated - not corrupted, just terribly slow (stubbornly inefficient and bureaucratic)...in the end, it took days and a big bag full of cash (lseriously, literally), but the 'immovable object' was beat by 'the unstoppable force' :D ; meanwhile, we rested, got invited to the Easter Sunday coffee and saw Lucy at the National museum. Goodbye Ethiopia, you were something really special - but definitely also a pain in the ass!

On a sad note, this was it for the east Africa: we knew we did 19,342km/12,019mi and we knew it was an epic and unforgettable adventure, but we needed some space and time to really tell you how we felt about the whole amazing experience.

That was it, time to fly to and explore the west coast!

Senegal

We decided to fly ourselves and our bikes into Dakar, Senegal - this way, we figured, we'd land in one of the more stable and developed west-African countries (though there is still a lot of poverty) where it's easy to get the bikes out, and then get to see some of the west coast as we ride up to Europe.

...But Ethiopia's fingers are long, their exhausting bureaucracy was still able to reach us, and by this point, after five days in and with no end in sight, we were utterly fed up with sitting around in Dakar, just waiting for the bikes!

The city is colorful, with its energetic 1,2million of mostly really nice and pleasant people (except for the merciless taxi drivers, you have to haggle hard with those) : tall Muslim men in bright long robes, soft leather slippers and stiff little hats, mingling with intensely colorful dresses of laid-back west-African ladies, and with elegant women wearing jeans and stilettos; then there are horse carts and BMWs driving side by side on smoggy highways and trashy sandy side roads; the Atlantic coast is beautiful and full of surfers and fishermen and soccer-playing kids (and occasional goat or cow), but the beach is full of trash and the water too cold for swimming - and we can't seem to find anything special to see or do!

The art galleries and museums were disappointing, Île de Gorée (a tiny colonial island just offshore of Dakar) was nice and photogenic, but touristy and only took two hours to see.

We found no fun streets with bars or cafes (to be fair, Lonely Planet does recommend you visit an expat cocktail bar and a night club owned by the Senegalese superstar/ minister of culture Youssou N'Dour, and we didn't do that), and the only really cool place downtown is a lovely French bakery which is packed with great baguette sandwiches, cakes, madeleines and pastries (and now also with sweet Ramadan snacks)!

Dakar is relaxed though, and pretty secular - even though 95% of the population is Muslim and this year's Ramadan started last Sunday, all grocery stores (which are mostly amazing, which I guess is one good consequence of the French colonization! And yes, we were getting fat! :D ) stayed open, street food was sold everywhere, and the beach was full of people having fun!

After five days, with nothing major left to do or see (but paying a lot for our little hostel room - lodging is very expensive here, no idea why), we decided to fly to the nearby islands of Cape Verde for a few days: might as well pay less for a better room somewhere new, go to the beach, and climb a volcano while we're stuck waiting!

Cape Verde

Cape Verde is a huge horseshoe-shaped archipelago of ten islands, way out there in the Atlantic ocean (570km/350mi off the extreme western tip of Africa).

Uninhabited until the Portuguese discovered it in the 1540s, it soon became the frontline of global exploration and was used by famous explorers like Vasco da Gama, Columbus and Darwin. It remained vital (especially for transatlantic slave trade and 19th century whaling), but as it achieved independence from Portugal in 1975, the new country struggled because there are no natural resources on the islands - but it's doing quite well since it decided to focus on tourism.

Since it's time consuming and not cheap to island-hop, we had to chose what we wanted to see in six days: the beach (Sal and Boa Vista have resorts and beaches), nature (Fogo has a mighty and active volcano which you can hike), culture (Sao Vicente is the cultural capital with its Morna music), or history (Santiago has the capital city Praia and the UNESCO-protected old town Cidade Velha); we decided for history, culture, and two days on the beach.

Santiago was nice - black lava rocks and chrystal clear water, and so quiet and orderly (they even stop for you at the crosswalk!), but there was nothing much to see or do in Praia, and Cidade Velha was just a short walk along the crumbling remnants and more recent ugly houses in the tropical village that used to be so important in 16th and 17th centuries (they even built a cathedral at some point, and pirates like Sir Francis Drake loved to attack the settlement)! Worth a stop if you're around, in other words, but we honestly don't think it's worth booking a flight!

We liked Sao Vicente much better: the town is cute, with colorful buildings and palm trees rising above the dark blue ocean, and with markets full of people and dogs, and the hike up the Green Mountain awarded us with spectacular views (rugged dry hills and foamy turquoise bays) and crazy gusts of wind.

The island is most famous for its music and its biggest, Grammy-winning star, the Barefoot Diva Cesária Évora (1941-2010). Still, music was harder to find than we thought: we didn't find anything at first, but on the second night we went back to one of the famous places and waited a bit, and two (not too promising looking) young guys started singing and playing a beat box and an acoustic guitar, and it was lovely! The musicians play and sing in turns (for example after a while, the singer will take a break and a local girl will sing a song instead, then he will play the beat box, and then later that night you will hear him sing at a different place). That was really fun, and for free, it seems everybody really is a good musician, and so the island deserves to be famous for its music!

Our last stop was Sal: it's touristy, flat, sandy, dry, with beautiful white sand beaches; however, the water is cold and the winds are fresh, so it wasn't warm enough for Stina to swim. But it is relaxing, and not too expensive (there was a lot of construction though, so that might change in the future), and we also got adopted by a young stray dog.

She was really sweet, and though you could tell she was doing fine and already bossed over other dogs, she still had baby fat and loved to be hugged and wouldn't let us out of her sight! We were actually sad the night we were leaving - would love to take her with us or at least be able to make sure she was ok! As it was, she was getting lots of food and play from us that last day, but then it was time to go, our bikes were waiting for us in Dakar!

So Cabo Verde was a good unexpected stop - it's not hot, and it's not Africa (well, it is a little, but it's also Portugal and Brasil and New England) and was definitely much better to explore the islands than sit in a room in Dakar!

Senegal

We were really happy that that after 10 days, we finally got our bikes back! Like, really, REALLY happy!

It wasn't easy of course, the call to prayer (remember, it was Ramadan) from the mosque a block away was deafening at 4:45am, and then again at 5:20 and 5:45 (...we never went back to sleep!); getting the bikes out only took seven hours at the airport cargo warehouse, consisting of exactly 27 stamps, lots of back and forth, some arguing, and twice, they even tried to blatantly rob us! We then also started an unintentional fight over our moto crates between 10 guys who wanted them badly, but in the end, we rode away free, with big smiles!

So now that we have Motos, we can Migrant again! Next up: a colonial town and then a really hard border to Mauritania!

This text is going to be a bit long, because it was Stina's birthday and we were not riding that da - and there was so much land we had covered in the last few days, we went from Dakar, Senegal north (through two crazy borders!) to Dakhla, West Sahara - all in four days!

Riding through Senegal was easy, the roads are decent and villages colorful (and nobody was staring at us at all), but the amount of garbage laying around is insane, the worst so far in Africa, and they seem so used to it, and they keep throwing more on the streets where their children are playing and their goats are rummaging for food.

The landscape was changing more and more: the always present bright red dirt started to turn into beige sand, we were seeing less and less palm trees and baobabs, the air got so dry it was hazy, and we started spotting camels.

The first impression of Unesco-protected Saint Louis was not a very good one; but soon the dirty, poor, chaotic suburbia took us to the river, where we set our gaze upon the island, and for a moment, we were in awe and thrown back in time: we saw the beautiful colonial buildings, reflecting in the still water, a pretty bridge leading to them, birds standing around and looking for fish, and colorful wooden fishing boats gliding quietly on the mighty river...

The old part of Saint Louis is a tiny town with colonial architecture; it was West Africa's first French settlement and it sits on an island in Senegal River, to which you get via Pont Faidherbe - the metal bridge which was designed by Gustav Eiffel and originally built to cross the Danube! ...But as we rode in, it was unfortunately not as great: the bridge was bigger and more modern than we expected, but the old buildings were crumbling, the roads dissolving into sand, and everything was expensive (even though there really wasn't much to see, do or buy) and there was lots of begging towards the tourists.

We found a cheap hostel on the other side of the river, in Guet N'Dar, "a lively fishing community", and the road that took as there was quite a sight: a bustling fishing village, hectic, packed with people, nasty fish smells, sheep and goats and dogs, and hundreds of wooden fishing boats which were sitting in the incredibly polluted and trashed water... Yet somehow, we had a peaceful night, with clean beds and all!

Mauritania

We got up early and went to nearby Diama, the small easy border with Mauritania. The Senegal side was simple, and after we paid 2x6 eur for the bridge crossing, we landed on a tiny, dusty border with a few little messed-up buildings. And they didn't have internet - but they need internet to give you visa. We waited for hours, because our carnets were already stamped out (i.e. we exported the bikes from Senegal already), and because the only alternative was a border in Rosso, known as "worst border in Africa" - a terrifying option! But the internet never came back, and at some point we were told that actually, it had been gone for three days and would likely remain a problem, and then after six hours the boss got mad and literally chased us away!

So, at 3pm, we turned back (not paying for the bridge this time, we blew right through the check point), paid a small fee to import our bikes into Senegal for 24h, and rode for 90min to Rosso.

First, we had to stop at the customs (at least it was a proper-looking office, and the men wore uniforms and checked our documents and luggage, but it was weird). Then a guy who was with them started to talk about helping us because it's his job ("For free!"), explaining that we have to pay $55 each for various fees. We're used to "helpers", but this was different, he was better and more persuasive and just aggressively stubborn as if he is actually for real... but we still didn't buy it (meanwhile, dozens of dirty and poor little boys surrounded us and proceeded to chat and beg), and so in the end he got really mad, especially at Stina.

(By the way, sexism was already palpable around there, e.g. nobody ever talked to Stina or checked her luggage, she was asked if she was in the military (probably because she wore pants and bandana, and rode a bike), and when the helper got mad at Stina because she had a firm opinion about unusual border fees and about his "help", he told Kyle: "Tell your wife to behave!" to which Stina replied: "Oh, he doesn't tell me what to do" - to which he had no reply at all, finally :D )

In the end, we were able to leave because we told him we're returning to the other border, the one with no fees....but then we rode on right past him! We got to the border, which was a total mess, loud, packed with aggressive men, such chaos, everybody talking at us, selling help and money exchange as we parked, and went into the police station (to where the "helper" followed because he wanted to talk to the police too - we were still not sure about him, but we risked telling him to go away, because if there are fees, we're leaving the border, and so he's definitely not going to make money on us....and then he actually left!).

After we got the immigration stamp (for free!), we dared to ask the police boss-man about the helper and the fees, and were told that those guys are "thieves" and we shouldn't pay. So that gave us confidence, and we decided to cross! We won't bother you with details anymore, but here are a few fun facts: the crossing was scary, unbelievably exhausting, we constantly had to give it 200% or lose incredible amounts of money or get punched in the face; we saw a Sahara version of a 19th century cowboy jail (seriously, there were people in it, locked behind bars, next to the sheriff's office desk!), and Kyle also almost got arrested at some point (a story he will gladly tell you over a beer); the ferry ride to the other side of the pretty river would be lovely if it was somewhere else; the Mauritanian side was easy and short because it was Ramadan (it was late in the day and everybody was starved, in a hurry to go home and eat); it turns out Kyle is a master when it comes to tricking hardcore "helpers" (they wanted a lot of money - the fact that nothing was agreed upon and that we didn't ask for their help in the first place is irrelevant here, and when you have been at the border for 9 hours, it becomes harder to seriously resist their relentless helping -, but he made them believe that ATM won't give him any more money, so though they did help, they hardly made any money on us.

ANYWAYS, at the end of the longest day, we made it to the other side, half dead, and it was lovely how alone we were and how quiet it was.... It was a different world here - aggressive, no bullshit, tough, and with everybody wearing sheets (robes, capes, turbans, dresses, cloth pouches… - all of the sudden, the colorful African robes were all gone)... But for that night, we were done and all was well: we found a tiny gas station store, bought baguettes, cheese and apples, and went to a half-decent nearby hotel (We also DIDN'T have a bottle of red wine which we would NEVER smuggle into a dry country) where we had dinner and watched a good movie. :)

And now we're pretty proud, we made it through one of the most notorious, corrupted, aggressive borders in the world, all alone, only losing $50!!!

We rode through Mauritania in one 11-hours-long day - all the awesome sites are off-limits, and other than that, the landscape is a desert, the capital is only 60 years old, and the Islamic republic is corrupted, poor, and not much into civil rights (there is racism of the ruling Arab-Berber Moors towards the black Africans, plus there is a caste system and even slavery, and women have very few rights - force feeding of young brides and female genital mutilation still exist, and most women are kept illiterate).

The southern part, until the capital Nouakchott, was already all desert, with sand dunes pushing onto the messed-up road, with Berbers with their faces completely covered (even in the cars!), women looking all round and soft, camels nibbling on the few bushes and shrubs, with little villages with little houses that look like tents all along the road (by the way, we got an occasional wave and an occasional unprovoked middle finger as well), but the desert is, well, deserted - Mauritania is one of the least populated countries in the world, which is not a bad thing, because they seem to think Sahara is their garbage can.

We made it to Nouakchott at noon: the suburbia was like a scene from Mad Max (goats feasting on mountains of trash, chaos and smog, many crazy drivers of old European cars that apparently left Europe to die here); the downtown, if not very interesting as far as sights, looks like a proper little city, with new buildings, wide streets, and some decent stores.

The northern part of the country was different: windy, empty, with a decent straight 400km of road through the edge of Sahara. It was much fresher than we expected, and it was really nice to just ride, with the sand occasionally blown onto the road in psychedelic dancing patterns, and with no people or civilization in sight - except for the constant police checkpoints asking us for "fisch" (a copy of our passports and bike info - they rarely even check the original papers), only god knows why the country needs to have 30 of those from us!

We ended the day in a really bad hotel, close to the Moroccan border. Of course, they wanted a lot of money and of course they believed the room to be great (it was dusty, but so what; the sheets haven't been washed in months, but they are there and the bed is big; a mirror may be broken and dirty, but you can still see yourself in it, so all is well; and truth be told, their lodgings are probably way worse), ...but we didn't care, we paid and stayed, and used our own toilet paper, towels and sleeping bags - we had to go to Morocco, to Dakhla, to celebrate Stina's birthday somewhere less miserable, sexist and dry!

Western Sahara

Exiting Mauritania was easy, and the Moroccan side (to which you have to drive through a few kilometers of rocky desert, a proper no man's land!) was easy too, but super slow and inefficient (we gathered a bunch of stamps, got our bikes scanned, and after three hours we were free to ride away, unlike the long miles of trucks which probably have to wait there for days).

Western Sahara is a stony desert and though now a part of Morocco, still a disputed territory: at first, the sandy Spanish colony became divided between Morocco and Mauritania; but after the phosphate industry became big there, Morocco started a war - meaning, they marched in and took over, since Mauritania had no means to resists them. Nothing has been resolved, and the indigenous people, Sahrawis, were promised a referendum on whether they want independence or stay a part of Morocco; but though the result is questionable (a lot of them don't want to leave the prosperous invader), it's not likely they will ever be able to vote in the first place, Morocco has a firm grip over the territory.

It was weird but nice to be on a good road, with rules for speed and passing again; and after hours of riding all alone through a desert with big sand dunes (which, when they move onto the road, have to be removed with a snow plow :D ), the road started to run along the Atlantic coast, and so for hundreds of kilometers, we were riding in strong cold winds but had beautiful views: to the right was the endless Sahara with plenty of wild camels, and then on the left side, the desert sank (or fell, where there were tall cliffs) into the turquoise Atlantic.

You forget about the hardship, desert and incessant police road blocks when you make it to Dakhla, the windy tourist town that caters to kite surfers (we don't do that - but we did get to "bike-surf" on the windy road a lot!).

It's situated at the end of a 40km long peninsula, in the middle of nowhere (i.e. just north of Tropic of Cancer, 500km north of Mauritania and 1000km south of Agadir) and though it's nothing special, not very pretty or charming (and the whole wild peninsula is under construction, everybody is building, so this should be a famous destination soon), it's pleasant to stop there and enjoy a comfortable hotel and a nice restaurant - especially if it's your birthday! We found an amazing (and cheap) seafood salad which we had under the starts and full moon, and also beer (not at the restaurant, it costs $7 dollars there! A friend informed us that a hotel sells alcohol out the back door, and even has a hidden bar, like a speak-easy for the local police and government officials, and we thought that would be fun to visit, but it was closed on Sunday).

From Dakhla, we rode north all day to Louyone, where we were invited to stay at a new moto friend's home (meaning, we didn't know him, but we all have bikes so obviously, we're family!).

The ride there was long, cold and windy, it felt like we were back in Patagonia (except that instead of pampa, there was Sahara, and in it camels instead of llamas); the police stops were getting dense and long, at one point they ran our passports three times in less than an hour! We arrived at 7pm and met Yazid, and then got a hug and "Salaam alaikum" from his mom and aunt who were making dinner - and everybody was nice but very hungry, and still had to wait for long 90 min to sunset.

The whole evening was such an authentic and warm experience: the apartment was full of Arabic tiles and furniture, and tea sets and tons of pillows (and of course a squat toilet), all so clean and neat; we were invited to join the family's huge homemade Ramadan meal (it was really good, and very heavy on sugar and carbs: there was lentil soup, breads and pastries, avocado-milk-sugar smoothie and juices and tea, and all kinds of desserts...), and talked all evening about their lives there in general and during the holiday.

During Ramadan, most people are quite miserable because they can't eat or smoke all day (some actually set the alarm before sunrise and eat some dates and drink milk, like Prophet Mohamed used to do, and then go back to bed), so they don't do much and take naps all day, but then in the evening they pray and then eat, and repeat that for hours, and then often go out at night to have coffee and cigarettes with friends, and go for walks and even shopping....and then they sleep very late in the morning; we left the place at 10AM, but felt more like it was 4AM, everybody was dead asleep! ...But we had to go, we had 9 hours of riding to Agadir, Morocco proper, our last African country!

This whole ride from Dakar to Morocco was challenging, hard even, and often also annoying - the rides were long, we had to fight a lot of terrible roads, strong winds, and two crazy borders, and when we stopped we were often unable to get supplies, everything was slow and malfunctioning, lodgings offered no Wifi, no towels or clean beds, or toilet paper, or sometimes even toilets (and most certainly no beer!), scenery was a mix of the ancient Arab world and Mad Max.... But this was it, this was no game - it was a pure adventure, we had to fight the elements for real, and can now feel proud that we made it through!

Morocco

We were very tired, but had one more hardcore riding day ahead of us, before we reached Morocco and our trip would become humanly possible (or maybe even half comfortable) again!

The first half of the 9-hour ride north was shockingly cold, crazy windy and dark grey, but we thankfully avoided hypothermia when after lunch, the road took as a bit inland, where it was sunny and finally much warmer. We ended the day in Agadir, a big clean city, but since it's not very touristy, it was pretty much empty now during Ramadan.

Still, we found a good store, a decent hotel and a late night grill... and we were finally in the legendary Morocco, the land where for many centuries, the Arab world has been mixing with southern Europe and Africa, with imperial cities of Fez and Marrakesh and Berber villages in the High Atlas - the land of history and civilization and the sweetest apricots!

The plan was to first go see the nearby Essaouira, the old coastal "Windy City of Africa"; we then decided not to go, since we were really tired of the constant wind, but then an amazing thing happened: Stina's friend from high school times who had just been there with his family contacted us, and not only told us to go, but insisted on paying for a night at the place where they stayed - because he "doesn't want to intrude but likes us and feels inspired by what we do"! It was crazy, and the apartment was not cheap - but in the end, we couldn't say no, we felt so very honored and moved!

The three-hour ride there was of course chilly and windy, but the views of the coast were beautiful - wild and pretty like Scotland but with palm trees and red dirt; it got hot and quiet again whenever the road took us inland, and it was fun to ride on a small, rustic yet well-maintained twisty mountain road that took us past beautiful landscapes and cute little towns.

The apartment was of course gorgeous and comfortable and right in the middle of medina, and Essaouira turned out to be a lovely little port/ fishing town. Both the 18th century medina (i.e. the old walled part) and the port with its many blue boats and seagulls feel very authentic, the town is not expensive (in fact, Morocco is cheaper than places like Tanzania and Senegal, and even Mauritania, why is that?!) or overflown with tourism, and it's pleasant to just slowly wander the streets of the medina - past the old houses with ornate wooden doors, little antique stores that actually sell lovely antiques, lively market and street vendors, spacious plazas, and lots of big happy cats... The quiet old town is surrounded by the city wall with canons, protecting it not only from invaders but also from the strong wind and the angry ocean.

Essaouira was a great introduction to the country, and we felt grateful for both the surprising experience and for the even more surprising gift; and as we were leaving the old town, walking behind a wheelbarrow-taxi that was taking our luggage to our bikes, we were really looking forward to the rest of the country!

We rode to a camp near Marrakesh, to rest and organize; the tent campsite was cheap but the place was posh, meant for glamping of the French tourists (who were all super well-dressed, drinking cocktails and smoking slim cigarettes by the infinity pool) and not for overlanders in tents; but we're veterans at this, so it was easy to slalom around all the obstacles (we rode to faraway stores to avoid their expensive food and drinks, no power at the camp meant we charged our computer at the toilet etc.) and we got it all done - lots of sleep, yoga, being lazy by the pool, laundry, oil change etc.

Refreshed, we moved to Marrakesh (to a blah place, but who cares, we were here to see the sites!), a royal city that got rich on camel caravans coming from the desert, and is now getting rich on tourism. It's a big city (1.3mi), and it seems to be a mix of the traditional and modern (by the way, it's lovely to finally see women and girls ride around on their mopeds by themselves, many not even covered - and some completely covered), of fake and touristy, and of authentic and ancient.

We went for a walk and were amazed how colorful, lively and aesthetically pleasing (and clean!) the old town is; we quickly learned that it's fun to just walk around the decorated and easy-going souks, shaded by grapevines or ornamented ceilings, and narrow old streets with kids and cats, and wider roads that take you past the medersa and the 800 years old Koutoubia mosque... but we did visit some famous sites as well (though everything closes too early during Ramadan, it was hard to catch the opening hours).

One was Bahia Palace, which was mostly empty but had gorgeous tiled walls, stained glass windows and intricately carved ceilings, and where, as we were taking shelter from the hot sun in the shade of the palm and orange trees in the courtyard, a young woman recognized Stina - it turned out we had a friend in common in Berlin and we had met each other over a decade ago...it's such a small world!

We also liked Saadian Tombs (it's a short visit but totally worth it): Saadian sultan spared no expense in making a Chamber of the 12 Pillars, a glorious mausoleum for himself, and the end result is just beautiful - stunning architecture, stone carving and tile work...and with the light seemingly dancing on the walls, it's all a little bit as if the room is trying to defy gravity!

We ended both days walking around Djemaa el-Fna, the huge main square; even at late hours, the place was packed with tourists as well as locals (and even children), and it was full of everything: food stands selling tagine (a slow-cooked stew), music, snake charmers, monkeys on a leash posing for photos, and people selling stuff (some of which are pretty aggressive: a woman violently grabbed Stina's hand and started drawing on it with henna, and after Kyle made her let go, she yelled back: "You bad man, you don't feed my baby!").

So yes, we were having a good time in Morocco, and all the pretty sites were really soothing to our fried toughened minds; travelling was fun again, and we were looking forward to what's next!

We went from Marrakesh to Fez: it was a hard but fun three-day ride that took us over the magnificent Atlas mountains, through some ancient Berber villages like Aït Benhaddou, and also on some fun twisty roads.

On the first day we went right up into surprisingly green hills, covered with trees, palms, cactuses and blooming bushes, and they then soon turned into beautiful rugged mountains, which were changing colors from dark warm brown to terracotta to the palest shades of pink and apricot - and the many little green bushes covered them like polka dots, making them look, well, cute!

The windy road then started taking us past many Berber villages, which look so natural, like they grew out of the mountains - well, in a way they really did, because they were built out of the materials like clay, rock and straw that were gathered in the area and then organized into fortresses and other buildings. We stopped at two of them:

Aït Ben Haddou is a UNESCO-protected red mudbrick ksar (fort) which was, already in 11th century, a major caravanserai (an inn) for the caravans travelling between the Sahara Desert and Marrakesh.

The cool little hillside village is still alive, people live in those 300 years old earthen constructions even now, and it all looks ancient, pretty and authentic (including an occasional annoyed donkey, and all the lovely carpets and handmade leather belts being sold from most houses), with gorgeous views of the surrounding mountains and the river below (where they were shooting a movie at the moment - in fact, the village has been used in many famous movies, e.g. Lawrence of Arabia and Gladiator).

The stop was short, lovely - and for free, and it was also nice to wake up to the view of all this in our $5 camp on the other side of the river!

On day two, we went 30km down the road and stopped briefly at Ouarzazate, an old Berber town that sits on the southern edge of High Atlas and is nicknamed "the gateway to the Sahara Desert".

Their Kasbah (citadel) is pretty big, and you feel very tall squeezing through the maze of passageways, steps, and many little rooms (a few of them are colorful and contain nice carvings); the old medina, set against the backdrop of Atlas, is a nice short walk too.

We rode on into the hot desert, and it was delightful to wave at the many motorcycle people riding from Fez to Marrakesh on their big new BMWs and Transalp Hondas (we'd literally seen less then ten riders on our whole trip until now), though with them, the civilized order is also back - there were radars on the road again.

It's also amazing how the quality of items for sale in the Moroccan streets continues to be high: handmade leather and metal items, ceramics, jewelry, carpets, antiques, locally made argan oil and now also rosewater (l'eau de rose)...it's lucky we have no room on our bikes or we'd be buying a lot of stuff!

In the afternoon, we rode through Dades valley: the twisty road took us through the river gorge, full of lush meadows and tall trees (that looked incredibly fresh and green in all that dry hot desert, it was a bit like a mirage) and lovely villages....and then it turned into seven really fun steep 180-degree switchbacks before taking us to the top, where we enjoyed the amazing views with two French adventure riders. The rain was trying to catch us on the way to our cheap camp in the middle of nowhere, but it didn't - and we also saw a dust tornado off in the distance!

We woke up to another hot day, and it was a boring long ride for quite a while, so here are a few things that came to mind that we haven't shared yet:

- If there is one thing that all of Africa has in common, it must be the sweeping and scrubbing of the floor! They did it almost everywhere we stayed, for hours, every single day!

- At first we were not too thrilled about travelling through Muslim countries during Ramadan, but with time we learned to appreciate seeing this ancient tradition unfold before us, you just have to adjust a little (and be nice, they get cranky, they're not allowed to even smoke during the day); you never know what tourist sight has closed early, and you especially need to get your food in advance because everything but the grocery stores is closed until sunset everyday (no problem for us, we make our own coffee and lunch, and eat dinner late), and even then it stays closed for a while because everybody is eating (that meal is called iftar); it's fun to walk around after sunset and watch them feast - the whole city goes quiet, and people are eating everywhere, in the middle of their stores, on the streets and in cafes, even the beggars open their containers on the floor... and then all you hear is Nom Nom Nom :D As for alcohol, it's forbidden during Ramadan, unless you're a foreign infidel in which case you can get it (because you're probably going to hell anyway ;) ) in some bars and at the hypermarkets (but not on Fridays! And bring your passport!).

- As we were leaving Marrakesh, all the cobras at the main square turned ther heads away from their snake charmers, and were listening to our bikes instead! :D

...Then the road took us up again, this time into forests and hilltowns of the Middle Atlas - all those tall oaks and cedar woodlands (and then fresh meadows with horses up there above the treeline) really reminded us of the Alps - except that it was hot and there were many monkeys!

We made it to Fez, and were writing this in a cheap hotel (with no AC which sucked, but hey, with free and safe parking!) at the edge of the old medina, and were looking forward to the next two days!