Day Three - Monday 28th July
After a great night sitting like some
pervert outside the ladies' toilet for 3 hours getting more and more
totally inebriated, I was accosted by the Frenchman and a pretty
Dutch girl. The reason why I was listening (not) to French girl
students empty their bowls, was because it was the only place where
you could pick up the WiFi signal.
The two joined my FB but the girl used
my notebook and the damn starting page is now in Dutch!
So I went off to bed and slept like the
drunken dog I am. Next morning brought some sunshine and it took a
mere two hours to load up. This was due to the fact that it appears I
had packed rather badly and hence could not find anything and thus
the tent was completely full.
This lesson is just one of many I am
now re -learning. It is a long time since the PATU days.
With the scooter with no name, moaning
and screaming under the weight, I hit the road heading towards the
next town call Bud something or other. It was only about 5 clicks
later that I passed an amazing site on the opposite side of the road.
I hesitated about turning around with
the heavy scooter and some serious traffic. But I thought it may be
of interest and something told me I would not regret it. Finding a
chance a few meters down the drag I went back. It was a decision that
would change most of this trip.
The shop was empty of customers and I
got a cup-of-china from another stunning, multi-lingual Czech babe.
There was a young bloke messing about in a back room unpacking stuff.
Well, it didn't take two secs when we were the best chinas for ever.
Jan, the owner, is a Czech but his Dad has a farm in SA bordering
Zimbabwe. He spends time down there and got the idea to open up this
shop. It is only a year old. You can imagine the bucks involved.
For over an hour we chatted and I told
him I will promise as best as I can to promote his place. Already I
see flaws (web site only in Chesky – www.original-afrika.eu) but it
will take time. The stuff, from Tanzania, Malawi, Zim (he has
brilliant contacts with the former ambassador of Zim who is a famous
African photographer (Liba Taylor), is mega top gear. All is above
board. No ivory and the animals and skins are all officially
imported. Remember, this country is part of the EU and a fully
developed place.
He was rather stunned about the stunt I
was pulling, and when I told him of my proposed route to get to
Auschwitz, he looked at my map, and showed me where to go. Stay away
from all the cities. No point unless you want to check out a museum
or two (not). Stay on tiny roads. Less traffic and next to no police.
He warned that they are very arrogant (that means they always wear
shades), and are not friendly (what!) as the German police.
I knew I had to get a small elephant
for the ex. When I tried to pay – it was a gift! He printed out the
route to get me to the next place and as he knew his land very well,
explained all the places I should be going to but still in the right
direction. One bit was through a forest where the only things that
live there are called bears and... WOLVES. Holy shit. I hope the
wolves don't run faster than my roller (45 kmh down hill, 35 on the
flat, 20 up hill). I can't even swing at the savage things with my
heavy anti-theft chain because if you take one hand off the handle
bars, the front wheel shakes something rotten in fear of an imminent
crash, and imagine if I was attacked from the right - if I took that
hand off, the scooter would stop!
Suddenly I miss my leather anti-dog
savaging leggings that I had hated so much as part of my police
uniform.
After uploading via his free WiFi pics
and video exclusively for my Facebook, The Gokwe Kid (TGK) members,
(you can all join for FREE), after 2 hours and 61 kms, I arrived at a
large camping site in the town of Teflon. It is famous for inventing
a paint for men's underpants to stop sweaty eggs sticking to them.
Okay, it is actually called Trebon and it is known for its carp fish.
Since I had no intention of going
anywhere, I slipped a nice ice cold, big glass of brilliant golden
amber down an appreciative gullet, and before I got into the swings,
found a spot, and this time, well organised, I had a neat and tidy
tent.
Then it was up to the bar (after
removing the flag (thieves), and leaving plenty of warning to
them), where I then proceeded to have a great time chirping away
with my TGK fans. Many have sponsored me on this trip, and thus get
their names in lights. Unfortunately the stickers on the bike have
nearly all become un-indelible (is that a word? Who cares?), despite
being covered with sticky tape, they have started to badly run.
Up at the bar with my notebook and
amusing the TGK groupies - the bloody heavens opened up reminiscent
of a real Rhodie shumbas and flatdogs storm. I didn't give a monkeys
because I was getting nice and drunk, was inside the pub, plugged
into the mains and free WiFi. Then it took a tad turn for the worse –
as reported on FB (last night) -
Oooh.
It has stopped raining. Better see if everything is still there and
get myself a sweat shirt. Back in a mo. I am all yours for some time.
Okayyyyy.
not clever. Lazy Sixpence forgot to tie up the side ventilation
windows and make strings EXTRA tight. Now Bwana must shout, as there
was a small child's paddling pool inside his tent, and the sleeping
bag is not very dry.
Bwana made his stupid Sixpence mop it out with the very wet towels the bloody fool had left out and made Sixpence promise to wake up a bit and stay off the Chibuku until his Bwana's Safari tent is No 1 and not Number bloody 2000.
Bwana made his stupid Sixpence mop it out with the very wet towels the bloody fool had left out and made Sixpence promise to wake up a bit and stay off the Chibuku until his Bwana's Safari tent is No 1 and not Number bloody 2000.
This
of course led to some rather amusing and cruel comments. Whilst
chirping I decided to sort out my kangaroo money pouch because I was
sick to death of euros and kroners all mixed up. Then...
But
Sixpence has redeemed himself, luckily. because, to get the frying
pan into the pannier at the back, he had unscrewed the handle.
Bwana
ask him, "Where have you put the screw?" Sixpence look up
into the sky for help.
"I
put it in a safe, secret place - so no know to find it."
Sixpence replied whilst smiling sickly.
"So
tell me, where is this secret place my oh so clever Sixpence, because
I know you too well and I bet you hid it whilst on the Chibuku."
Sixpence
put on his best offended face and body language-
"Bwana, why you not listen to me? I tell you, the place is so secret, no one will find it, and that includes me."
"Bwana, why you not listen to me? I tell you, the place is so secret, no one will find it, and that includes me."
The
all forgiving Bwana thought about this for a few moments -
"I hope your hands are made of asbestos for when you fry my dinner, you total idiot."
"I hope your hands are made of asbestos for when you fry my dinner, you total idiot."
I
found the screw in the front part of the pouch. I then proceed to
drown my woes before drowning in a soggy sleeping bag, by mixing the
beer with some local schnapps - it was not a good idea. The stuff
tasted of super glue and was pure rocket fuel. All paid for by
various sponsors along with a very nice dinner.
At
11 pm I was thrown out and I wandered to the toilet - for I busting.
Coming out, I got lost and spent 20 minutes wandering about with a
sailors gait , tacking and tripping over stupid tent ropes (which
leads to a lot of foul language in a foreign tongue),until I fell
over my roller. Job done. Home sweet soaking home. I recall vaguely a
few hours later of opening the flap and pass water. This time my
sandals and trainers were inside the tent... - which leads us to
Day
Four – Tuesday 29th July
Ah,
not feeling to good Tony. The plan was to go into town and check out
the fag shop for some rolling tobacco but the weather is still crap
and drizzle now and then and I don't think I could pass a
breathalyser test.
I
was awoken to the sounds of hissing that I thought might be my
mattress, and that perhaps in a drunken frenzy must have thought it
was a giant python and had stabbed it with my Swiss army knife.
Looking out the flap I saw it was a family of swans.
It
was a good thing I brought wipe towels because I can't have a shower
due to the fact the towels are still soaking wet. Brilliant!They are
lying in the tent with some vain hope they sort of dry out.
The
place doesn't have the ambiance of the last camp site, but has great
views plus food and beer is cheap. Mostly used by Czechs, some
Germans and Austrians, but oddly enough, no Dutch. I think they are
smart campers and stick to little places. The entire area has loads
of little lakes and I reckon 70% of the campers have bicycles and
there are plenty of designated touring routes. I can't be arsed with
that malarkey. Far to much effort. Even going to the toilet leaves me
with shaking pins.
And
that is more or less all to report. Tomorrow I pack up and head for a
town called malice. Erm no, it is Trebic. I will have to fill up
first before loading the roller as it is about 120 clicks, almost at
the limit of the tank. It also means I will be up to four hours on
the road. Quite a task for us both.
The
rest of the day I will mess about on FB and drink nice beer. Early
bed though and hopefully I can get a shower in the morning.
Catch
ya all later -
6 comments:
Sounds so fabulous Karl.. You planning any for next year??
Yo Paul. Presuming I survive still have a job, next year down maybe to Italy. this is brilliant fun.
The kid done good! A very amusing rant and predict they will get more manic and zany as the adventure continues. Less, we cannot expect..after all we are in the cyber company of the invincible Gokwe Kid. Take care Karl and go well.
Great posts Karl, enjoying your trip with you. Have a blast mate.
Is it rouge? or rogue!
A rogue is (1) a scoundrel, (2) a vicious or solitary animal, or (3) a fraudulent piece of software. The word is also an adjective meaning vicious and solitary. Rouge is a pinkish color or a reddish powder. It’s also a verb meaning to put rouge onto. It appears surprisingly often in place of rogue.
Is it rouge? or rogue?
A rogue is (1) a scoundrel, (2) a vicious or solitary animal, or (3) a fraudulent piece of software. The word is also an adjective meaning vicious and solitary. Rouge is a pinkish color or a reddish powder. It’s also a verb meaning to put rouge onto. It appears surprisingly often in place of rogue.
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