Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I saw the first signs of the civil war as I approached the Shaba region in the south (Again,
I'll explain later.)
The next morning I took photos of the orphanage and all the children. After break-
fast, I gave the older kids a Canadian pin and promised to write (which I did.) I pushed
off completely humbled. My first 28 kilometres took 3 hours to complete because most
of it was in deep sand. As I cycled, the bike slalomed everywhere and to keep the bike
steady would have been incredibly stressful. Instead, as my momentum went to the left, I
just flowed with it, almost like skiing, which proved helpful.
I met a driver in his jeep coming toward me. I asked how far Idiofa was and he said
about 15 kilometres. Shortly after his departure, I came across a fork in the road without
any signage. Both roads looked identical so I wasn't sure which lane to take. Looking into
the sand, I noticed the tread marks from the jeep and decided to follow them. I cycled for
about two kilometres on this “road” as it transformed into a tractor track. Soon after, I ar-
rived at a real road! It was well graded and my speed would have been higher but a slow
leak developed in my front tire causing me to periodically stop to inflate it. My last 8 kilo-
metres were through several villages with many locals staring at me in shock. I cycled by
the police checkpoint and simply said bonjour and then made it to the Catholic mission. I
met theAbbéandgavehimoneofthethree letters that Iwascarrying. Hewelcomed meto
stay and he prepared lunch: pasta and African food.
After eating, I went to my room to look at my tire. Then this police official came to
my room with his unsmiling 'assistant' in dark sunglasses carrying a large black umbrella.
He asked me for my passport and when he returned it, he wanted money out right. I played
stupid again. He was carrying an
umbrella
mind you. He warned me that he would be back
at night.
I returned my attention to my tire. I noticed that the leak was right at the valve. I
tried to patch it up and it seemed to hold. So, I reset the bike with my gear, showered and
finally shaved. I went to visit the chapel and returned to my room to rest until dinnertime.
As I walked to the dining room, from the darkness I heard a noise. The hairs on my neck
stood on end for I thought it was the umbrella-carrying extortionist looking for me. Thank-
fully it was just a large dog rummaging around the building.
After dinner, I sat with the community and told them some of my African adven-
tures. It grew late and bid everyone a good night. As I walked to my room, I was talking
with the bishop just as the unsmiling-umbrella-carrier and the policemen came looking for
me for money. But as soon as they saw me with the bishop, they spun around and quickly
disappeared without even a hello! I think they were scared of the bishop.
The dog that scared me to death earlier became my self-appointed guard dog. He
slept outside my door as I went to bed. As I lay in bed, I pondered on how I could improve
my repair job on the front tire for my gut feeling was that it would not hold. I brainstormed
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