tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53929055917375084472026-02-21T10:07:32.961+02:00Africa in slow motion on two little wheelsAlberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-32787623014825458872011-01-16T23:30:00.000+02:002012-12-03T23:32:56.942+02:00

We wake up to an unpleasant surprise: Our new, used spare tyre is flat -- it burst while parking outside the Safari Inn we stayed for the night. Seems the tyre decide to take us to Dar and give up life straight after that. At least we made it here and can look for a spare... another one. The search begins, through Dar's many shops, mechanics and even the labyrinth of the notorious Kariakoo

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com1Dar es Salaam, Tanzania-6.822921 39.269661-7.0751805 38.953804 -6.5706615 39.585518tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-29068794085527748072011-01-15T23:59:00.004+02:002012-12-03T23:24:05.008+02:00

The day starts with a nerve-racking drive through the Mikumi National Park. There is nobody around to tell us not to enter the park so we go ahead -- although the 'Danger' sign at its entrance keeps us (well, at least me) anxiously looking left and right every now and then. Be it as it may, we don't get to see too many wild animals today. Some impalas and baboons cross our path and we see the

Agnieszka Flakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01715093575516585890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-82234893053009820912011-01-14T23:59:00.005+02:002012-12-03T23:23:12.289+02:00

We get off to an early start but to no use. There is no tyre that will fit our scooter in the whole of Iringa. The Chinese imports on the market have a bigger wheel, almost double the size of the Vespa. Alberto follows one of the locals around town all morning looking for a possible replacement, but nothing can be done. A local mechanic promises he will be able to organise 'something', but we

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-50940924194932091172011-01-13T23:58:00.001+02:002012-12-03T23:22:40.306+02:00

The day started on a rather pleasant note: woke up near the river, a hearty breakfast, good company from some Swahili-learning volunteers and the nice British pensioner who nostalgically pondered with us about his own crazy, good ol' scooter-days... There are many activities on offer at the camp -- from horse riding, to river walks or swimming in its current -- but the road is calling us. A 2 km

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0A 7, Tanzania-7.6048303074956705 36.71356201171875-7.8566243074956708 36.397705011718749 -7.35303630749567 37.029419011718751tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-64228109270632102652011-01-12T23:52:00.003+02:002012-12-03T23:22:13.137+02:00

Mbeya is one of those place you won't rush back to... yet it has its purpose nevertheless. There is not much to see, although the Loleza and Mbeya peaks are looming graciously over the town. The semi-colonial town centre is bustling with life this Wednesday morning. People are crowding around the local market and the garages in town. We scooter around looking for the 'hanging tree' -- according

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-89495327494653906972011-01-11T23:05:00.011+02:002012-12-03T23:21:48.937+02:00

East Africa, here we come! We get two nicknames the moment we pass the border: "mzungu" (or wazungu in plural) as they tend to refer to any white person walking around and "pikipiki" as all two wheelers are being called. Our Vespa feels right at home with scooters seemingly the preferred mode of transport in this part of the world. We cross the border at Tunduma and get sucked into a row of

Agnieszka Flakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01715093575516585890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-29408677808682046182011-01-10T21:32:00.009+02:002012-12-03T23:21:32.093+02:00

Every day we plan to leave early to either cover the maximum distance... or to at least be able to stop in between to give our sore behinds a break. But every day the story is the same: it takes forever to fit everything back into our bags (it seems our stuff is multiplying even though we've been steadily depleting our food supplies); the scooter is getting less stable by the day while we try to

Agnieszka Flakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01715093575516585890noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-26143676328279361782011-01-09T23:25:00.008+02:002012-12-03T23:20:39.356+02:00

As in the case of Rome in Europe, all the roads in southern Africa seem to be leading into and out of Lusaka. One may not describe the urban trading hub with many superlatives, but the mishmash of dusty streets, bustling markets and sleepy charm in its many side roads has an attraction of its own. A colourful anti-AIDS campaign lining up murals along Cairo Road is leading us north out of Lusaka.

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com1Lusaka, Zambia-15.408193 28.287167-15.530656500000001 28.1292385 -15.2857295 28.4450955tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-1869139690004065612011-01-08T23:59:00.011+02:002012-12-03T23:20:23.995+02:00

We start the day at Wonder Bake, a local bakery that sells huge muffins and many other unidentifiable sweets and savouries. The cappuccinos taste yummy, even served in the tiger-pattern cups and saucers. At the next table all sorts of trading and money exchanges going on, with one hand passing the bills under the table, the other gently raising the cup of tea for another sip. We start off for

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-11535276413078569062011-01-07T15:00:00.013+02:002012-12-03T23:19:54.474+02:00

At Livingstone, we head straight for Victoria (or Vic) Falls. Somehow, once again, we end up at the Zimbabwean border post instead. They tell us we've driven past the turnoff to see Vic Falls on the Zambian side. How did we miss that? Weren't these falls supposed to be huge? We turn around, pay the hefty $20 a person fee to see the natural wonder. The clouds and rain add a bit to the drama.

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com2Bridge Crossing Over Liwunga River, Livingstone, Zambia-17.911122518800148 25.858039855957031-17.941342518800148 25.818557855957032 -17.880902518800148 25.897521855957031tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-26907211122475795412011-01-07T13:00:00.004+02:002012-12-03T23:16:56.439+02:00

The ferry at Kazungula is a very special place. Four African countries meet here and two rivers run together. The ferry crossing is quite a mind-boggling affair. Trucks line up in a long cue up to the rivers edge. Luckily, with our tiny vehicle we get to move past everyone. All around us all possible trades: women and men alike running around with jerry cans, big plastic duffel bags selling and

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-14410942780988544672011-01-06T21:01:00.005+02:002012-12-03T23:16:18.649+02:00

Breakfast and off we go. At the Nata garage, no fuel. Gas station ran out. Luckily, the one next door still has some left. On the road towards the Zambian border we hit a line of road works. It seems the entire highway is being redone. We may not always be able to see the road, but we get to see loads of elephants. They seem undisturbed by us (and the other trucks and cars passing by). Even pose

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-2913055701995370582011-01-05T07:09:00.010+02:002012-12-03T23:13:00.247+02:00

Pretty late start today... After the first 50 km, the scooter breaks down again. Is our trip finished already??? We manage to get it going again, but slow speed from now on -- yes, much slower than the 80 km/h we've been doing thus far. But we do make it to Francistown, Botswana's second biggest city. We find a mechanic -- apparently the only one repairing motorbikes in town. We're lucky. Only

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-86608535701972540612011-01-04T10:01:00.003+02:002012-12-03T23:13:31.208+02:00

Starting relatively early today. Gorgeous scenery from Rustenburg north via Pilanesberg. Luckily no rain today. We can feel our butts though, oh yes, we can. 500 km on the little Vespa is no afternoon tea get-together. We pass some mining towns on the way. The garage attendant in the iron ore town of Thabazimbi can't believe the 140 km limit on the scooter's dashboard. We wish! 80 km/h is the

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-16816429266749194942011-01-03T09:57:00.005+02:002012-12-03T23:09:35.213+02:00

We're soooo slow... 140 km to Rustenburg and we are already totally knackered. The 3,360 km we've got left seem just a little bit daunting... A combination of highway and some smaller roads around the beautiful Hartbeespoort Dam. You learn a lot those first 100 km : how to do foot exercises on the side to keep your feet from falling asleep; how to avoid flying objects getting plastered right in

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com0Johannesburg, South Africa-26.2041028 28.0473051-26.3180783 27.8893766 -26.090127300000002 28.2052336tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5392905591737508447.post-20718671234397300422011-01-02T22:36:00.001+02:002012-12-03T23:10:06.638+02:00

It's all way too heavy! Do we have to take all ALL the 15 litres of extra fuel??? If we add up our weight + luggage + fuel... how much is this little scooter supposed to carry??? That's not even going to make it up the first hill, let alone a curve... Two hours later, all loaded. The windshield had to come off. We will get to savour all the bugs and dust Africa has to offer , but what don't you

Alberto Rinaldihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18181813451707911022noreply@blogger.com1