Tuesday, January 17, 2006

 

Safaga

Camping on the beach at Safaga - This shot was taken to make it look nice.

Safaga is a small town along the red sea 540km from Cairo. We have biked that distance in the past 4 days and all is quite well. I am keeping pace much better than I expected given my, some would argue, lax training regiment of biking recreational in the summer, biking indoors while watching movies in the fall, and eating as much cheese and chocolate as possible over Christmas.

Tonight we are camped on a beach, covered in garbage, on the red sea. Previous nights have been in the desert, which is also covered in the garbage along the side of the road. The desert is quite peaceful and somewhat interesting, but also irritating for one reason. The desert is flat. This means there is no where to go to the bathroom out of sight from camp. Needless to say, we are getting to know each other quite well. It is difficult to summarize the experiences we have had but I will try.

The desert we have been riding across is just what it looks like in the movies, sand. It's pretty cold at night and pretty hot during the day. We found a camel skeleton on a piss break yesterday. There is an interesting sense of awe you get now and then, passing sandstone mountains or arriving at the red sea. There are wild dogs that live, I suspect, of the garbage scattered in the desert, especially along the side of the road. They like shoes, and one cyclist lost 3 at night to the dogs, which he later recovered. I was missing a cycling shoe (very difficult to cross Africa without) one morning before the start and chased down a couple dogs, who, confirming their response to the accusations, were innocent. Our nurse, John, found my shoe tucked into the bus about which I was embarrassed, particularly since we are all just getting to know each other so we hang on anything we can remember about each other to start copyrightable. Needless to say, "Where was your shoe?" has started most of mine since. I got bored with the truth and have switched to accusing Martians.

The locals are friendly and at times interesting. They want to know where we are from and our names, and every passing car honks at us. Oftentimes they are trying to sell us something and as often, they are just plain friendly. I can share an example that will communicate the reasons for the latter. Five of us sat around the campfire last night with 8 Egyptian army guards, who are protecting us in Egypt and are not seen without their AK's and shotguns. One of our guards, Ali, who doesn't speak any English was having such a great time with us around the fire that he decided to show us a martial arts form (like a kata) for our entertainment and sing us a song. When he finished the song, the tough looking young man cried and the one guard who spoke a little English explained "he is happy". To put this in perspective, consider the life of an Egyptian army officer. They are posted regularly in sandstone huts without bathrooms along the highway, if not just on the side of the road, and always wave when we pass. What are they doing? Watching for enemies maybe, or just waiting to be posted, day after day and year after year perhaps, in the empty desert. It's no wonder that the young man was so empassioned to be interacting with a few unusual foreigners. He took a liking to Lyle, who speaks a few words of Arabic, and told him "I love you" and asked him to sing him 'Michael Jackson' after his song and tears. Needless to say there were a few uncomfortable moments when Lyle could only crank out 6 words of 'Billy Jean' in return as the guards looked on eagerly with their machine guns on their laps.

The riding has been beautiful to make up for the heavy distances covered in this week which I consider to be training. We have mostly had a tailwind for the past 3 days, after getting out of Cairo along an insane highway. There has been one crash at about 40km/h, but the tough young lady is back on a bike (hers was totalled) this afternoon and I suspect will continue riding to the end. There is a lot of esteem placed on a titled called EFI and many people are trying to achieve it. EFI means you powered yourself the whole way, even when camp in 10km through the sand off the road. What does EFI stand for? "Every Inch" I am going for it and feel good for now. There have been some saddle sores and pains that have slowed people down but everyone seems to be coping well, myself among them. I am exhausted and sore today, and we have our toughest day of riding in Egypt tomorrow so I must get back to camp, get clean in the sea, check up on my bike, and stretch again.

Thanks for following and please feel free to post anything you like, as I am just now forwarding this blog out to the masses (I wanted you to have something to read before sending the email).

Comments:
Jonny, it's great to hear about your journey, try to keep this up-to-date.

Also, I recommend going into your blog's "Settings" under the "Comments" section and enabling "Show word verification" for comments, otherwise you'll start getting automated spam.

Have a great trip and keep up with the vivid detailing,

Ryan Smith
 
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