Of Creaky Joints and Weary Butts

What happened to learning to walk before we run?

Day 1: We start later than planned (of course). Loading up the bikes takes a while since we’re not sure yet where everything goes. At 8:45 we set off, on high alert in the busy morning traffic of Nairobi. Ben navigates to quieter country roads while Lina learns to keep her distance from him. The pot holes are easier to spot that way. The bikes feel heavy but the air is still cool and the blue sky and bright flowers are a relief after the dreary European winter.

After the outskirts of Nairobi we only pass through small but bustling (and slightly intimidating) villages. There are people everywhere, walking, lounging, calling out to us. „Hi; how are you; where are you going; mzungu (white man)“ are the most frequent. Only once do we hear a „Go back to your country“. There are lots of smiles and laughter is ubiquitous. Everyone loves it when Ben is brave enough to try his Kiswahili.

We climb and climb. In total it will have been 1000m of elevation gain over 56 km. It’s a lofty goal for the very first day. Lina was right to be apprehensive. She is worried about her fragile knees. The Swiss Alps have broken them before and this day feels worse if anything. But for the moment they prevail as we get close to the high point of the route.

This is where the paved road ends. The sun has gathered its full force by now and beats down on us as we bump and jostle our way over a beautiful plateau. Lina’s stomach starts to hurt, whether from a bug, dehydration or just muscle pain is hard to tell. Later we think it’s probably the muscles in her body unused for so long.

We breathe a sigh of relief as we are nearing the end of the ride. Finally a few km of downhill before hopefully a guest house, a filling meal and a shower in Kijabe. Yet our hopes and dreams are shattered in an instant when that downhill road turns out to be steeper and bumpier than we had thought. At some point Olive (Ben’s bike) can’t take it anymore. She’s been carrying more than her share of the weight thanks to Ben’s chivalry and at the 1001st bump her rear tire gets a flat.

We stop and muster the stoic energy. We brush our expectations aside and Ben sets up his repair shop. Olive topples over twice from the weight and uneven ground, losing her handy rearview mirror in the process. We mourn the first loss of the journey. Motor bikes, pedestrians and trucks rumble past us. Many offer to help but fixing a flat is a one-man job.

After half an hour we’re riding again, but not for long. The fix wasn’t good enough. So, Ben walks his bike for the last 4km while Lina forges ahead trying to find the guesthouse and secure them a room. But Google maps is not her friend this time and she still hasn’t found a path to the building by the time Ben meets up with her.

Together (and with the help of Kim, the star of the day) we make it there at last. It’s 7pm and the sun is setting fast. While the family who runs the place is hurriedly getting a room ready (at an unbeatable price of 16 euros per night) Kim calls the hotel (Kenyans call restaurants hotels sometimes) to get dinner. Naturally the only option is beef burgers and fries.

It’s funny how quickly a vegetarian becomes a flexitarian after a tough day. We vow that this is the exception, not the rule as we wolf down the gristly burgers and almost two liters of coke. We fiddle with the uneven tempered shower (a common occurrence over the first week), Lina stretches a bit, we set the alarm and drift off quickly.

The next days are nowhere near as challenging as the first. We quickly learn to appreciate the cool mornings (as low as 7 degrees), a smooth roadside shoulder and the purest luxury of all: a shower after a day cycling in the heat (over 30 degrees in the sun).

We’re surprised by the amount of wildlife we can spot so close to the road. Baboons, zebras, Thompson gazelles, even giraffes and rhinos. At one campsite on lake Naivasha we get cosy with hippos. Thankfully there is a flimsy looking but electrical fence separating us and the deadliest animal in Africa. When undisturbed, no matter the size or shape, all animals move with slow and deliberate grace.

It will still take some time to switch our minds over from hiking to biking. When you’re hiking your average speed doesn’t change so much. But when you’re on a bike it can range from a scary 55km/h (one pothole and you’re literally flying out of the saddle) to a never-ending 4 km/h crawl up a hill. The latter becomes especially dispiriting when pedestrians overtake you.

On day 3 Lina is promoted to chief officer of stretching. Ben’s knees have started to hurt intermittently and at times bad enough so that he has to take some painkillers. We experience headwind and mild dehydration for the first time. We defeat both with Oreos, soda, crisps and deliciously ripe mangos and bananas (for 44 cents you get a mango and two bananas).

Onions, potatoes, tomatoes and spinach seem to be available everywhere. But otherwise it’s slim pickings in terms of vegetables. We try ugali (the staple maize porridge) and mukimo (mashed potatoes with some maize and pumpkin leaves) and find them a bit dry but tasty. We burn leaded petrol in our stove and try not to worry too much about the toxic fumes.

On day 6 we complete the final push to Nanyuki. After 70km and 600m of elevation gain Lorenz (Lina’s former colleague) opens the gate. He and Nicole welcome us to their little oasis. We celebrate the first week of the journey with a tasty dinner and by welcoming the first visitor of the trip. Olly (Ben’s dad) has flown in to join us for the next few days. We’ll be able to rest our weary butts, but not our joints or lungs. Mount Kenya looms over the town and beckons us up.