Flying all morning, dying all afternoon. This is a 171 kms day, a true century, over 100 miles. And in the morning I’m as strong as yesterday. But about 10 kms before lunch I’m bonking, and things don’t improve in the afternoon. But painful or not, I get the whole day done…
171 kms – what does that mean? Too focused to know where you are!
The chorus of “You, You, You , money, money money” in Ethiopia and “Give me my money!” in Malawi, has evolved into “How. Are. You?!?!”, infinitely more polite but it still sounds more like a demand than a question.
Tonight we camp across the Luangwa river from Mozambique, just a short distance from Zimbabwe.
A hot shower on arrival is SO welcome, but I can’t imagine the effort of walking up the hill to book a little stone cabin, so I pitch my tent. Strategically though. Most rider’s tents are with the truck at the very lowest point of land, which I suppose means they’re as tired as I am because that will be a swamp if it rains tonight. I find just enough flat-ish real estate, a few meters higher and right beside the showers, to pitch my Princess Palace. And there are monkeys! Dinner and a show…
Short climb up the hill to the bar.
Charming… complete with eccentric drunken owner. Genuine G&T with lime and ice (!) and real tonic, a swimming pool, and the perfect fiery sunset view of the Luangwa river below, backed by the wild unknown of Mozambique.
As it turns out, that 171 km day with the sunset and Mozambique and monkeys and G&Ts and hot showers in a stone hut… that was my last ride.