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my side of the road. I assumed the driver was avoiding potholes on his side like in Zaïre.
However, he kept coming toward me without slowing down. All of a sudden, it dawned on
methatIwasonthewrongsideoftheroad!Iswervedtotheleftsidewithonly100metres
before contact. The driver looked at me as if I was insane, but I waved to him in a lame
excuse of an apology.
The roads were excellent and the weather was absolutely perfect. I passed my first
Zambian town of Chililabombwe and was flabbergasted on seeing my first shopping cen-
ter. It was such a peaceful town, well-planned and very spacious. There were goods behind
nicely decorated storefront windows and the pedestrian walkways were litter free. Even
though this was a mining town, I must admit I was so impressed. It seemed that Zambia
took its wealth and invested into its communities and infrastructure.
I was so excited to be in Chililabombwe that I waved at everybody and everything
that moved. I soon crossed the town and headed south. Eight kilometres after leaving the
town,IgotmyfirstflattireinZambia.Istoppedunderamassivetreeandusedmyverylast
tire patch to repair the hole. After the repair, I inflated the tire and as I put the gear on the
bike, to my dismay, the air escaped. Shit. I had no patches left and I was eight kilometres
south of Chililabombwe.
I didn't have a chance to brainstorm any ideas on what to do next. Literally at the
exact instant I realized the extent of my predicament, an Australian living in Chililabomb-
we,AndrewHarris,camecyclingtowardmeandstopped.WestartedtochatandItoldhim
my situation. He told me not to worry. He said that after he finished his training run, he
would return to his home in Chililabombwe to get his truck and pick me up.
So I unpacked all the gear and sat in the grass under the tree to say the Rosary.
Andrewsooncameintoviewonhisreturnlegofhistrainingrunandjustwavedasherode
by. In less than an hour he arrived with his GM truck and we tossed everything into the
back. We reached his home and I was greeted with a pot of freshly made coffee on the kit-
chen counter. He offered me his wife's rum balls which I politely managed to sample (and
not devour). We sat at the kitchen table and he told me about his family (his wife, Fiona,
taughtatthelocalschoolandhehadaveryyoungdaughter)andhisjobasanadministrator
at one of the mines.
I moved to the dining room drinking my coffee as Andrew made a phone call. He
telephoned his friend Carl who happened to have new bicycle tubes for sale. Carl came by
withthree“heavy-duty,puncture-resistanttubes”whichIgladlyboughtandquicklymoun-
ted as we chatted. When Fiona returned from school, she gave me her tube repair kits as a
precaution (smart woman, for they came in handy rather quickly.) They offered me a place
to stay for the night which I gladly accepted. After our meal, we watched some TV (Dyn-
asty) and I soon started to doze off. Welcome to Zambia!
Afteragreatbreakfast,IturnedmyattentiontomybikeforInoticedfromthenight
before that the axle in the rear wheel was stiff when rotated. I took apart my rear wheel,
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