Two ways to drive across Africa

My two months of travel in Ethiopia was an epic trip, but it was nothing next to the African voyages of some people I know.

Previously on this blog I've mentioned my friend Thomas Tomczyk, who is motorcycling across Africa. He started in South Africa late last year and is now. . .I'm not sure where. When I was in Ethiopia he emailed me from Kenya, but he's since dropped off the map. I'm sure he's all right, though. He's like me, with a talent for getting into dodgy situations and then getting out of them.

Thomas' website, Africa Heartbeat, contains his stories and pictures of various NGOs and charitable projects he's covered along the way. His latest article is about Tunaweza ("Yes we can") a group of handicapped musicians in Tanzania who are pulling down barriers not only for handicapped people, but between religions--the members are both Muslim and Christian.

Hopefully he'll get in touch soon because I'd like to hook up with him later this year when he passes through the Sahara. Nothing like a reunion with an old friend in a scorching desert in summertime.

When Almudena and I were relaxing with a drink in a hotel garden in Gondar, Ethiopia, we met a South African couple who are driving around the coast of Africa. Steve Lorimer and Roxy Harvey converted a British Army truck into a cushy living space and set out to circumnavigate Africa from Morocco down the west coast to South Africa and then up the east coast, around the north and back to Morocco. Their website OverAfrica recounts this 25,000 km journey. They've had some tough spots, with breakdowns both mechanical and physical, but their journey has been mostly positive. I was especially interested in their account of The Gambia, where I plan to go next, and Namibia, which is also high on my list. Their site also gives lots of advice for doing your own road trip across Africa.

All this is making me want to hit the road again. . .

It's Official: Kebabs Are Bad For You

In the film Casablanca, the corrupt police captain Louis Renault tells Rick Blaine that he's shocked, shocked, to discover there's gambling going on at Rick's Café Américain. A moment later a croupier hands him his winnings.

Yesterday the BBC reported that British health officials are shocked, shocked, to discover kebabs are high in calories, fat, and salt. The favorite food of binge drinkers, harried commuters, and penny-pinching backpackers, this slime on a stick apparently has an average of just under 1000 calories, the entire daily requirement for salt, and well over daily levels of saturated fat. The kebabs were tested without the rich fatty sauce that's usually slathered on as a final step in preparation.

Officials in 76 councils tested the nutritional value of 494 kebabs. The worst offenders had 1,990 calories, more than twice the daily requirement of salt, and more than three times the daily requirement of fat. More than a third included ingredients not on the labels, including several with pork. Two of the kebabs that included pork were sold by shops that claimed to be halal, meaning that they supposedly followed Muslim dietary rules that forbid pork.

But the question remains--will this make the fattest country in Europe change its dietary habits? Probably not, considering that everyone already knows kebabs are bad for you. This is probably why they are mostly eaten by people who have just been on a bender.

On the positive side, discarded kebabs make great foraging for urban England's growing population of wild animals. When I lived in Elephant and Castle, the local fox, dubbed "smokey", lived well off of kebabs and other junk food he found in the dumpster and on the sidewalk.

After Captain Renault pockets his winnings, he blithely orders Rick's Cafe closed. He's under political pressure to do so. I wonder, after the officials at the Local Authority Coordinators of Regulatory Services made their report and satisfied their bosses, did they light up a fag and pop down to the nearest pub for a pint?

The Road Has A New Face

One thing that's really struck me lately is how many Chinese tourists there are now. I first started noticing them a few years ago, and can't recall seeing any before that. I did meet a Chinese Christian pilgrim in Jerusalem in 1990, but he was a different story. It's the peak of the tourist season here in Oxford, and there are Chinese tourist groups everywhere, taking photos with expensive-looking digital cameras (mine's made there too!), trying fish and chips, and blocking the sidewalks as they gape at the beautiful architecture. In other words, they're just like tourists from everywhere else. The new money in China seems to be getting spent on the same kind of vacations as elsewhere.

And then there are all those Russian millionaires at the Sotheby's auctions in London. I didn't used to see them ten years ago either.

Third World Children 1, Obnoxious Backpackers 0

Speaking of class warfare, I saw a great example of the worst that backpacking culture has to offer when I was in Nepal back in 1994. I had just come back from trekking the Annapurna circuit and base camp, this being back when you slept in village homes and there weren't any internet cafes along the route.

I came back to Pokhara, a small city that acts as a launching off point for many of the best Himalayan treks. I'd rented some gear and needed to return it. When I got to the store, I found the owner was out and his nine year-old daughter was running the shop, and deep in an argument with three burly Israeli guys.

Israeli backpackers have a bad name overseas, and it's because many of them have just gotten out of the army and are a bit high-strung. Perfectly understandable after spending a couple of years dodging terrorist snipers and car bombers, but can't they go through post traumatic stress disorder in their own country?

Anyway, these three heroes were shouting at this kid because they didn't want to pay for their last day of equipment rental. They said that since they hadn't kept the stuff for an entire day they shouldn't have to pay, but it was evening, closing time, and any sane person could see they were in the wrong. The little girl was obviously sane. She held her ground, demanding the ten rupees they owed her (a grand total of 30 cents) while they towered over her in an aggressive semicircle, shouting at her and moving closer and closer, fists clenched.

It was beginning to look like they were going to hit her and I would have to come to the "rescue". I started calculating just how thoroughly they would kick my ass before the whole market piled into the store and lynched these guys.

But the little girl saved me from having to save her.

She stomped her foot on the dirt floor, shot out a little hand towards the biggest of the three and shouted "No! You give me ten rupee!"

They backed down, tossing a ten-rupee note on the ground and stomped off, muttering things in Hebrew that were probably not fit for adults to hear, let alone nine year-old girls.

I paid my bill without even checking it.

Lesson learned: nine years in a Third World country makes you tougher than two years in a First World army.