Tuesday, 19 September 2017

What a difference a border makes - Visiting Angola

I had not intended to go to Angola. She just started calling me as I got closer to her border. The advice on the government website says ‘DON’T GO’, but if you do want to go you have to go to your country of origin to apply for a visa. I decided to chance my luck at the embassy in Windhoek (Namibia) anyway, and after much eye rolling and open irritation at my presence, I was granted seven days. I took it and ran!

I hoped the embassy was not reflective of the country, although I had evidence to believe to the contrary. The only woman I know to have gone there solo in the last few years is a fellow adventurer named Jo Rust of South Africa. 

Friday, 8 September 2017

Welcome to the desert!

After several weeks of being stationary waiting for my bike, I was beginning to wonder what was wrong with me. I was in a beautiful part of the world and yet things did not seem right. I questioned whether I wanted to continue. My body ached and I feared I would not make it across the last continent. Perhaps I had just had enough of the road. 

I pushed on with little choice but to ride it out, and that’s when the magic started to happen all over again. It seems I truly am a prisoner of the white lines. The aches dissipated, the fears quelled and the tiredness melted into a forgotten past. I was getting my road fix and the cold turkey had gone.