On Thursday 22nd April we had a cheese and wine event in Fish Hoek. Coffee & Books kindly let us use their quaint little shop as the venue. Paul came along with his bike in all its knackered glory and contributed with comments and insights. Thanks to Collin of Oils Inc for his sponsorship – being lubricant specialists Oils Inc sponsored the wine.
Feedback has been very positive and everyone enjoyed the evening. Thanks to everyone who attended and made the event a success.
The difference between having a wonderful travel experience and a terrifying, horrible one is attitude. It’s the old thing of seeing the glass half full vs half empty. And remarkably, the outcome of a lot of encounters lies in your attitude.
Markus Wade finally arrived at our bike shop in Fish Hoek. I’d responded to his email and then a few weeks later he casually rolled up at our door. His bike was clearly his home and his best friend. He had a mound of luggage strapped on the back, a worn out sheep skin tied on this saddle and his boxes were dented and covered with stickers from all the places he’d travelled through. He’d also stuck on various things like keys, bullets, rocks and even a turtle shell. I started to go through all the curious items and each of them unfolded a story of the people who had given them to him. He spoke with fondness and wonder of all the people and their kindness, their intrigue with having met him and their wishing to be remembered on his travels.
Markus is now off again on more explorations in South Africa but I miss his daily visits to the shop. And this made me realise that the key to having a wonderful travel experience is all in attitude. It is about being open to meeting people and even though you have almost nothing but the bare essentials, sharing your stories and good nature is what people really want from you. In exchange, they share their country, culture and kindness.
I’ve also met people who fear the places they travel through. They see every person on the road as a potential threat and avoid getting involved. They complain of bribes, theft, fights and come to hate the whole experience. Sadly there are so many of this kind of traveller about and quite honestly, they are missing the point and beauty of being out there.
I am one of those happy travellers who have nothing but serendipity to report on. I’ve pack-packed, package holidayed, weekend-breaked, gap-yeared and ridden my bike across Africa. I consider myself to be a travelling soul with some great experiences – so here are some tips on how to handle travel and get the best out of the people you meet.
Smile
Do you remember the song in the King and I that says “I always whistle a happy tune so that nobody knows I’m afraid”? You could whistle but that might irritate so you should simply smile. A smile is a good way of showing your attitude up front and hopefully will hide any fears you have. I remember crossing the border into Bulgaria where bribes were standard. The car in front of me was clearly having problems and the passengers were clearly getting all hot and bothered. When my turn came to face the border patrol I took my helmet off, got off my bike and approached the surely face as if he were my old friend. “Hello!” I smiled. His stoney face broke into a smile. I had to ask all kinds of stupid questions about insurance and road tax and by the time I left he saluted me off and sang Queen’s song “I like to ride my bicycle” out loud as my bike puttered off.
Patience
The guys who work at the border are doing jobs. They work certain hours and I don’t. I might really want to get through the border as quickly as I can but there really is no reason to rush things if I can use time to my advantage. For instance, there have been a few officials on my travels who clearly would have done their job a lot faster if I paid “extra” to motivate them. I’ve taken my maps out, read my travel guide and almost had a full-on picnic at the counter. I know of guys getting their cooker out and even planning to put up a tent. I think the thought of having you there all day is too much and amazingly the paperwork gets done. 
Diplomacy
When I was in Sudan, the two Swedes we were travelling with made the error calling an official corrupt. The Swede’s English was good but not that good and the official’s English was good enough to take massive offence to the accusation. They narrowly escaped, running out of the building yelling to us to “Go! Go! Go!” We didn’t question, just jumped onto our bikes and started riding out of town as fast as possible, not stopping at any of the police blocks. Sudan is the kind of place I didn’t want to get stuck in some prison cell for a minor offensive use of language.
My travel partner Paul was the master of diplomacy. Once in Poland we were being roughed up by some tram official that we both suspected was a scam. While I started a massive verbal onslaught of manners and pointing out how unfair this all was using a bit of foul language to make my point, Paul took out his note book and pen. He calmly asked for the man’s name and details as he would first verify the legitimacy of the encounter first. Just like that, the man turned around and walked off. We were left by ourselves wondering what had happened – and then hurried off to get lost in a crowd.
Another time at a border we were being asked for a lot of money by an official. Paul very politely explained that perhaps he hadn’t explained the situation and in his proper British way gave our story again of how we had already crossed the border and didn’t pay this fee then so it was a misunderstanding after all. In no time we were off with handshakes and stamps in our passports not having paid any extra.
When in these situations, be polite and wise with words. Negotiate with the greatest of respect to the person involved giving them the option to be the bigger person and solve your problem. That way you get to go and they get to be helpful.
Entertain
I know it is tough to be a socialite when you have just spent eight hours in the saddle traversing tricky roads and now you are in need of a shower and an ice cold beer while watching the sunset on you own. But sometimes you need to entertain the masses. Especially when travelling in places that people don’t see that many big adventure bikes with scruffy bikers and all our curious gear. We humoured many children with our cameras, gps and various technological bits and pieces. Nothing was stolen. There were many times, especially in Ethiopia, when just making a cup of tea on our tiny hi-tech cooker drew a large crowd. Fixing a bike can also draw an entire village out to sit there and watch in absolute fascination. This is the beauty of travel. We are travelling to see them but they wish to see us just as much. Let’s face it, adventure travellers are a curious bunch of individuals. Locals pick up on this fact. Also, by demonstrating and interacting it is less likely to have things stolen because you are giving them what they want – the thrill of seeing you in action and sharing your time and making friends.
Be Grateful
In Turkey we were treated like royalty. This is because the Arab culture believes that a traveller is a gift from God. On a regular basis complete strangers bought us food and helped us with our bikes. They would accept no money and weren’t hoping to cash in on a free holiday one day. In Sudan people were very hesitant to communicate with foreigners because it would mean a meeting with the police for them. But even so, when we camped in the evenings inevitably a child would come over with a bowl of dates and some fresh water. In return we were grateful. We appreciated their kindness and made sure we expressed gratitude and didn’t abuse the generosity.
Some of the poorest people in the world are the most generous. I think that any traveller will agree with this truth. It is a humbling experience. We should feel gratitude for their generosity and for all the luxury and money we have that enables us to travel.
Respect
I know it isn’t easy to fit in to a culture when it doesn’t make sense and possibly you fundamentally disagree with certain things. For instance, as a woman and a biker, I often find myself in a situation that I’m pushing the boundary of what is considered to be a woman’s role. Some guys find this difficult to handle. Some guys are outright outraged. When I was in Syria I had to completely disguise myself as a man and avoid being seeing on the bike at all. I hated this! I’m a biker chick and proud of it. But at the end of the day, I was in their country and whether or not I liked it, the fact remained that I was in their country. I had to show respect.
Follow your Gut
When we travel we will meet some bad people who know we are unsuspecting, potential victims. We find ourselves in places that are dangerous. No travel guide can prevent these situations from arising. But you can trust your gut. If you aren’t sure or don’t feel at ease about something, leave as swiftly as you can. I would avoid making a scene and simply try to smile, say thank you if you must and leave. I’ve often thought that one of the reasons my travels have been safe and happy is because I listen to my gut. This helps to avoid danger. It also helps me to recognise good people and places.
Serendipity
Serendipity has been voted one of the top ten English words hardest to translate. All be it a really hard to get your head around, it is one of those things that a happy traveller will get to appreciate and understand even if they can’t explain it. Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally stumbles upon something fortunate, especially while looking for something entirely unrelated.
And so whatever it may be that sets you off on a journey; take a great attitude with you. The world is a wonderful, curious place full of adventure and interesting people. Take the time to enjoy the whole experience because travel is a journey of the soul.
I’ve had a few people write to me asking questions that I think I can answer in one short blog.
Q: Who writes my content?
A: Me. Yes. All of it is my content and my writing. For those who don’t know who I am, I’m Sandi Langton. See the About page.
Q: Where do I get the information / content from?
A: My experiences. I can’t even imagine where else I would get it from.
Q: What is my site, how does is work and some other technical stuff that is all lingo-gingo to me?
A: I’m not a web-boff or a technical advisor – so sadly I can make no comments. I don’t even understand the questions. So, forgive me for having to ignore these.
Q: Am I interested in various other products and stuff?
A: No.
Thanks for all the interaction.
Here is my Cederberg Trip Report. Please add your comments, photos and anecdotes below!
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At 5.30am I woke up after a sleepless night (and a whole week of anxiety dreams about riding on sand) to have Gareth’s fiancée’s cheerful voice on the phone.
“Hi!” she said very cheerfully followed by a deathly silence that you know is not going to be followed by good news. She then went on to explain how Gareth had been sick all night etc, etc.
“Ok.” I said flatly. A panic set in and my eye started to twitch.
“Ok.” I said to myself. “That is not going to help.” I continued to pack up things and hurry so I would arrive in time to meet the fast group. I also made sure that Gareth would at least meet me there in the morning and Rene would hand over the chicken potjie ingredients and recipe. No back-up driver. No lead biker. No cook. No panic! I drove the bakkie to our meet up point thinking up all the options I had – and repeating my mantra of “think happy thoughts” to try to stop my eye from twitching.
Me and the Back-up Bakkie
On arrival I realised that 1) I was having a wobbly moment and it wasn’t the end of the world and 2) everyone else was pitching up and in good spirits. A bit of a rush around, packing things, discussing maps and yadda-yah the fast guys bombed off and a while later the slow group set off with Di as our back-up bakkie driver.
Once we were on the road things were definitely better. We all fell into our slots and started to enjoy the ride. The morning madness was all forgotten as we swept over Bains Kloof and sucked in the spectacular scenery.
We stopped in Op Die Berg to let our tyre pressure down in preparation for the gravel road ahead. I double, double checked with Gareth exactly which route we would be on as I didn’t have his map and didn’t want to miss the fast guys. They were relying on us to catch up at some point and provide the support and back-up as well as the opportunity for guys to join us if they needed to. It was also at this point I could feel myself going into a stressy sweat. This was the first time I’d take my new little bike off-road, it was also the first time I was riding off-road since my bad accident that has left my one wrist a bit of a mess. I knew that some of my group were doing gravel roads for the first time and so I had to at least look confident – even if I was jelly inside.
We weren’t very far on the gravel when we saw two of our fast guys repairing a puncture. Wayne had a slipped really
Wayne's puncture
badly in some diesel earlier and now was fixing a puncture. They were both in good spirits. It’s a guy thing: enjoying having your tools out and looking like you know what you’re doing with them. So we all watched with great admiration.
With wheels back on we all got back on the road. I was sweeping but noticed that Di was quite a distance away. I thought that something might have gone wrong but then, it was the fast guys… So I didn’t worry too much. When we caught up I heard how Wayne had promptly crashed his bike on a corner. The bike was going and so was Wayne – and he still had a cheery smile. “Good.” I thought. “This is what it is all about. Have fun. Fall your a** off and smile about it. The perfect role-model.”
It was quite a while later when we rolled into the Cederberg Oasis for lunch. It was a boiling hot day and so cold drinks and the swimming pool were fully indulged. Well fed, relaxed and chilled, we set off again for the second half of the gravel road. The fast group was now four and rest of the group made their merry, slow way to Algeria.
Now, I’d called Algeria office, their Cape Town office and even someone who works there, and the instructions were clear: Go to the campsite gate and from there you go to the cottages.
“Are you sure because it doesn’t look like it on the map?”
“Go to the campsite…” And so we did.
Of course the cottages were NOT at the campsite. In an endeavour to “cross the river” Collin lead a host of bikers through the campsite, across the river and a good distance up the mountainside on a foot path. The ditsy woman working there ran out when I came past shouting, “Don’t ride up there!”
“Ah!” I asked again for directions from the woman-who-didn’t-make-much-sense-but-was-actually-working-there and a few of us really slow riders avoided the exciting detour. We sat in front of the cottages looking at the footpath and wondered if they would turn back or make it all the way along the mountainside. Eventually we heard the lovely roar of bike engines making their way via the easier route.
Collin and his crew were not massively impressed with the detour but they got there all the same. I was just really surprised that they turned around because knowing Collin as I do; I thought he would have thought he’d arrived in heaven and would bush-whack the whole way there. But he didn’t, he put the team first and that impressed me even more.
Algeria Cottages
We rallied around and found our beds and luggage. The dreaded potjie awaited. Di calmly stepped in once again and got things ready while some of us went back to the campsite to swim. As we arrived three of the fast bikers arrived.
“Yay!” my heart lifted knowing all my chickens were home to roost and then plummeted as I realised one was missing.
“Pete is 6km down the road with a broken bike” followed by masses of laughter and some jokes about BMW bikes. Nothing quite beats bike brand banter. Poor Pete not only was feeling sad about his bike’s broken frame but also had to endure broken BMW comments the rest of the night.
Steve made a blazing fire using his dodgy lighter, twigs and leaves. Impressive, especially since there were firelighters. I read the potjie recipe instructions and then got cracking with cooking. Everyone was chatting and getting on well and so my final task for the day was to make sure everyone was fed. I hoped the guys were not just being polite but they all ate their food (I made sure they knew that it was my first potjie, in case it was horrible). In the morning there were only a few dregs left in the pot and no reports of dodgy belly or hunger.
The core of fast guys left us in the morning for a hectic route via Lamberts Bay. They brought years of experience and knowledge with them, big smiles and plenty good stories. The rest of us packed up and made our way back to Cape Town with only a short gravel stretch and then what felt like hours of dull tar and side winds on the N7. (Caron on her TW200 and me on my XR250 possibly had a more exciting time than the rest of the guys. A few of the side gusts really put the who-hoo into you.)
Group Photo
Di
The Rider of the Trip without doubt must be awarded to Wayne for sliding, crashing and repairing a puncture. He did all this and still smiled, joked and didn’t complain. He is a great role model for Adventure Bikers.
The unsung Hero of the Trip is Di. She stepped into the role of back-up without hesitation. She has an air of utter calm and confidence. While the world may fall to pieces, it won’t do so around Di. She keeps it together. Thanks Di for being a rock.
Special mention to Rhian for being a wild card and taking the guys on big time. And another to Caron and Steve for being so brave and enthusiastic.
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All from me! Please add your stories.
We had another great training event and a lot of fun. Thank you to everyone for participating.
Please send your feedback!
Hope to see you again soon.
Sandi
We had another fantastic day of training on 21st November at Bilton Wine Estate. Well done to Caron and Helen who both learned and mastered many of the tricky exercises in an incredibly short time. Caron excited us all with her Yamaha TW that is such a cool fun bike. Helen arrived on her big heavy V-Strom and by the end of the day was handing it superbly! Incredible! We all had fun and I could tell by the big grins that we have two more biker chicks ready to take on more off-road adventures.
It’s been incredibly difficult for me to sit down and continue writing my blog. Not only is my typing ability seriously reduced but I’ve been sitting here without a clue of how to go on.
My life was charmed. For twenty years I’ve travelled and taken risks and never came to regret any of my decisions. I can honestly say my life was blessed with serendipity – a word I recently looked up in the dictionary which I translate to mean a life path of luck or good fortune that comes your way and is full of happiness.
I felt like that all ended on a straight, hard gravel road in Namibia. I’ve done hundreds of thousands of kilometers over far more treacherous terrain with a heavier loaded bike but fate had different plans for me. The rear spokes of my trusted travel companion broke. To this day I don’t know why. I hope it in time it makes sense but right now I can’t understand how and why they broke in the way they did. But they did and nothing can change that fact (and how I wish I could change that fact).
We were four days into our journey and having a lot of fun. We had covered about 1000 kilometers and had just reached the Fish River Canyon. Both Collin and I noticed that my little 650 snaked about in the sand a lot more than his 1200 as we made our way to Ai Ais the day before. That evening we checked the tyre pressure and had a look over my tyres but they were brand new and had just been changed professionally a few days before. All looked good to us. So the next day we set off without any worries. Collin was beside me on the far side of the road and we were both comfortable doing about 100km/hr on a good straight road. We crossed a dry river bed that was a bit sandy which made my bike wobble. I stood up holding the front wheel stable. I decided to slow down a bit because I hadn’t realised that my speed was creeping up as the road was so straight and boring. It was probably only seconds after that thought that my rear wheel started to violently fling from side to side under me. I leaned hard on the front wheel to keep myself going straight forward and reduce the speed as I could tell there was something wrong and that I was coming off, I just hoped that I could slow down. But I didn’t have time to slow down and the last thing I remember is realising the bike was going to flip and I let go to fall free from the bike and not get crushed. I still can’t remember anything until ploughing across the ground face down and coming to a stop. As I tried to stand up I could tell my arm was completely broken and my hand was hanging off at a strange angle so I cradled it. Then I realised my face was smashed in too as blood gushed down my front and onto my boots. I didn’t know if I was spitting out teeth or gravel at this point.
Collin rushed over. He had almost crashed his bike as he watched me crash. He asked, “Are you ok?”
I replied, “No I’m not fucking ok.”
He tried to wash my face a bit but at this point I started to lose my vision and I told him to get something so I could lie down. From then onwards I was too dazed and confused to help myself much. I insisted on getting my helmet off – knowing it was not the right thing to do but I was boiling in the sun and I was sure my neck was ok as I could walk.
I felt like I lay there for hours as Collin tried to call emergency services who were utterly thick and useless. A British couple stopped and said they would take me to the nearest hospital in Keetmanshoop which was 70km away. Collin carried me over and put me in their hired car and gave me my backpack and wallet. I honestly thank God they were good people as they had a flight to catch and I was hardly able to make sense of anything any more. They could have left me at any point especially as the hospital turned me away and then so did the next two doctors. When we reached the third doctor I was lucid enough to plead with the nurse and hand over my wallet telling them I had medical aid and a credit card. So that was me dropped in some little surgery and the British couple rushed off to get their flight. I really hoped they made it and I didn’t bleed on the seat of the hired car. I made a call to my parent’s home. In all the years I’ve travelled I know it stresses them out and often I don’t tell them where I’m going or even that I’ve gone. Clearly I was concussed and I didn’t know what was in store for me so I needed to call. I hoped my father would answer but it was my mother. I didn’t want her to panic but I wanted them to know I had an accident. I wanted them to know I was thinking of them and was sorry for all the shitty things I’d done since a teenager. I didn’t get to say all that. I don’t even remember telling them I loved them which is why I called.
Two guys stood in front of me smiling. I had zero sense of humour now.
“Are you doctors?” I asked.
“No, we’re vets.” replied one of the smiley fellows.
“That is not funny.” I said staring at them, hunched over in a wheelchair. “Are you or aren’t you going to help me?”
They were still fairly up-beat, chatting all the way, telling me of all the bike accidents that came their way, they pushed me over to an x-ray machine and suggested taking my jacket off and grabbed my arm. I screamed. Things were not so up-beat any more as the looked at the x-ray and explained I needed to have anaesthetic to get my arm sorted out and take the bike jacket off. I think they cleared someone’s desk and God knows how they knocked me out.
When I came around I was panicked and disorientated. As I squirmed about unable to lift myself at all Collin walked through the door. I was incredibly pleased to see him. The rest of the day and night was all a blur. Collin had to do everything for me, help me wash, dress, eat, lie down, roll over. I have never before been so dependant.
The next day I was putting on a brave smiley face – a bruised, cut up smiley face. Collin pushed me in a wheelchair to the doctor’s surgery for them to check me. By this time I was in communication with ISOS. He sorted out getting my bike back and co-ordinated with my parents. I had no idea of the severity of my injuries and had I fully realised my state I would have happily flown back to Cape Town. All we realised at this point was that I needed to get to a hospital with facilities and the nearest was Windhoek. That was easier said than done as there is no car hire in Keetmanshoop and only by the next afternoon we set off and I arrived at the hospital as arranged at nine at night. I still felt that everything was ok and maybe the doc would check my arm and we’d be back on track.
By the following day ISOS arranged for me to see an orthopaedic surgeon. He took a five second look at the x-rays and said, “I need to get you into surgery tomorrow morning. You need to have this put back with a plate if you want to use your hand again.”
I didn’t think to question that so agreed and off I went to do the relevant paperwork – which is extensive. I won’t go into the paperwork issue but can say that it is a mission and you will need help. Try to get the insurance to pay everyone direct. Expect arguments. The Hippocratic Oath does not apply actually, especially when money is involved, and finally, the insurance will try to worm out of everything so be aware of small technicalities as it will cost you money or your life.
ISOS doctors called me twice daily to see how I was getting on. They were consistently looking after me which was good. Just that I still didn’t realise what I’d done to myself. Only after I came around from the operation did I think for the first time, “Ok. This is not good.”
When I came around I was in excruciating pain. I felt sick and worried. I could not sleep nor relax. I couldn’t do anything actually. My shoulder and elbow were also hurt as was my left leg. I couldn’t sit myself up never mind thumb through a magazine. My food sat there for hours as I waited for Collin to return and help me. My fingers were as big as pork sausages and couldn’t move at all. I was taking so many drugs to cope with the pain and sometimes they made me feel very sick and stoned. I was still optimistic that everything was ok but had never felt so much pain before – which made me feel that perhaps my charmed life of adventure wasn’t so charming any more. I didn’t want to cry but I felt like crying. I held back the tears knowing they wouldn’t change a thing. So basically I lay and stared at the wall for two days waiting for the pain to reduce and for my strength to return, listening to the drip make wheezy noises as it pumped antibiotics into my body.
Collin hired a car and we continued to travel for five days. We went to Swakopmund, Walvis Bay and Etosha. We both enjoyed the travel experience and most of the time was smiley and fun. I sat in the car most of the day with my arm propped on a little pillow Collin had bought for camping (and I’d giggled at it when he came home with it because I just used my clothes in a bundle being Ms Hardcore but I loved that pillow and took it everywhere). I struggled to walk about and sometimes my brain would shut down from the pain. Collin still had to help me with everything but we had fun all the same and he seemed to be coping with his very challenging girlfriend. There were a few times that I’d be helpless and hopeless with Collin caring for me so sweetly. I’d think of how lucky I was to be with him and could not have wished to be anywhere else.
Etosha was the highlight of the trip for me. The landscape is incredibly beautiful with lovely creamy and custardy colours and thorn trees everywhere. It’s dry and hot which is my favourite weather by far. The animals were 
unbelievable. At one watering hole we must have seen about a thousand zebra and springbok all standing about keeping an eye on four lionesses and a large lion. The lions would not leave the watering hole and were protecting a lioness who had been injured, probably while hunting zebra the night before. It was beautiful to watch the big cats show so much tender affection for each other. As we were about to leave a herd of elephants appeared on the horizon. We’d lost our parking space so we parked on the other side of the parking area. There must have been twenty elephants including two little baby ones and a few seriously gigantic elephants. There was a five or six meter gap between us and the next car. The elephants raised their trunks to smell us and then marched through the gap. Collin and I didn’t dare to whisper. The lions moved off letting the elephants dominate the watering hole. We could smell the strong smelly smell of the elephants and literally fell the vibrations of their low grumbly noises. One of the 
baby elephants saw us inside the car was startled. It was the cutest thing ever. I held my breath hoping the mother would not react. We watched them bathe a bit and then decided to get out of there as it was all a bit too close for comfort.
The holiday was drawing to an end. My parents were going to meet us in Windhoek and drive me home and Collin would ride his bike. It was a bit of a who-ha meeting up but finally we were all together. My mother so enjoys being a mommy and my father provides stability – I could finally relax into their care. I’m not the kind of kid that ever appreciated unconditional parenting but this time it was lovely. I crawled into the back of the bakkie into a bed made of pillows and a soft toy dog and basically slept for the two days it took to get back to Cape Town.
When we got back reality hit me harder than I hit the ground in the accident. Having the bandages taken off was awful and I had to try really hard to keep from fainting as I saw my misshapen, bruised and swollen arm. Now I have to care for this ugly arm every day and keep believing it will get better. The specialist here is happy with what was done which is incredibly good news so far. I’m getting to grips with my funny arm and useless fingers. I’m learning all kinds of lessons and ways of doing things with one hand. Every day I keep on believing that I can do it – and hey – there is progress.
I think the pictures speak for themselves. Everyone had a good day. We all learned a lot – fell a bit, did things we didn’t think we could, overcame fears and felt great by the end of the day. Thanks to everyone for being so great.
Ina needs a special mention for being a biker chick with guts. She has only been biking for 3 months. She dropped her bike and picked it up a few times - her lovely smile never faded for a moment. Well done Ina!
