Pigg’s Peak to Oaklands Estate, Johannesburg
(385kms)
S 26º 12’ 26” – E 28º 14’ 01”
I tossed and turned all night, butterflies trying to lift me clear of the bed… This wasn’t like the leaving had been… I was fairly calm then… I knew then that I was not looking forward to ending this journey… In the morning I sat holding in my hands the pile of maps which I had used… The names of the countries through which I had passed leaping off the front covers… Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania, Mozambique… I held them like a hand of cards, my mind far, far away… Emotions swirled though me, welling up inside me… “It would all be over a few hours from now…,” I remember saying to myself…
During the short trip from Ngonini to Pigg’s Peak the day before, the bike had handled differently to what I was used to, and I considered the possibility of the handlebars having shifted slightly as a result of my fall (which I was still smarting about!!) but I did not experience any serious handling problems through the twisting sections of road that lead to the farm. However, today’s trip was going to be a lot longer, and faster, as I would be travelling along the highways leading to Gauteng, and I needed to make sure that there wasn’t anything wrong with the bike…
I decided to take the road past the Maguga Dam to where it rejoins the main road to Mbabane, as this road generally holds less traffic. I rode through the sweeping bends at a reasonable speed, taking a few photos “on the fly” as I did so…The bike was pulling very slightly to the left, but not enough to be of concern and by the time I reached the turnoff to Motshane, we had both got over the disappointment of the previous day’s fall, and I felt comfortable with the handling once more…
The highway leading to Ngwenya Border Post and South Africa….
I refuelled at the border, and then joined the back of a long queue of tourists heading for the immigration counter… A number of people whom I had known for years, failed to recognise me behind the longer hair and beard that I was sporting… Tommy Kirk, who I had worked with between 1987 and 1995, but had not seen for a number of years looked at me, frowned and looked away, before swivelling back to me and asking,
“Don’t I know you?”…
I confirmed that he did indeed know me, and once I had reminded him of who I was, we spent a pleasant half-hour in the queue chatting about my trip and his business interests in Swaziland. Before we parted, he looked at me and then at the “Big Fella” and said, “All the way to Tanzania…? Alone…on a bike…! I couldn’t do that… Well done!!”
I remember looking back at him as he walked away and thinking that maybe I had done it because I knew few people could… But that was by no means the reason I had got on my bike on the 15th of December…
Last stop to refuel in Swaziland, with the border post and South Africa in the background…
I managed to get in front of many of the tourists on the South African side of the border, and within 10 minutes was back on the bike and riding through the checkpoint. The first road sign I saw after the “Welcome to Mpumalanga”, had me nodding my head in recognition that I was back in South Africa… It read, “Crime Alert – Do Not Stop”… Of all the countries I had passed through in the last eleven weeks, this was the only one which saw fit to warn travellers of the criminals that frequented its highways!! Sad, but an understandable necessity…
The last leg… Back to the “Big Smoke”…
The road leading away from Oshoek was made for bikers!! We were quickly up to speed, and at steady 6000 rpm, roared towards Warburton, passing the turnoffs to Badplaas, Piet Retief and Lothair on the way. I slowed just after Jessievale Sawmill, wondering if I should take the turn to Carolina and the N4 which lay 80kms to the north, or continue east on N17 to Ermelo and beyond… I settled on the latter, as I wanted to “ride” the bike home, through the countryside of southern Mpumalanga, rather than along a boring highway… I was through with “boring”…
I was back in South Africa… Road-sign just outside Oshoek Border Post…
I passed just two vehicles on the way to the little town of Chrissiesmeer, enjoying the freedom of this stretch of road, riding down the centre of it, using both lanes to sweep through the long gentle bends and opening the taps on the straights… There are moments when you are riding, when you no longer feel that you and the bike are two separate things, when you almost forget that you are riding, and feel as though you are flying… This feeling is not necessarily as a result of travelling at high speed, but rather the sense of knowing that you are riding well, with the utmost confidence in the bike and your abilities…as limited as they may be…!! When all this comes together, it is a feeling of pure exhilaration that you wish would last forever…
There were moments on this long trip, where I did not ride with confidence, when either the weather or the road conditions conspired against me, to make the ride seem more like a struggle for survival… On days like this, I would arrive at my chosen destination tired, my arms, shoulders and upper back aching in protest… Today was not going to be one of those days…
The road through Ermelo, Bethal, Trichardt and Kinross was a bit of a blur, as my mind was pre-occupied with thoughts of home, and the completion of a dream which seemed impossible just a few months ago… I refuelled for the 63rd time in Leslie, just before getting onto the highway to Springs and the Friday afternoon bustle of Johannesburg beyond that…
I was surprised at how cheap petrol was, as I had become so accustomed to paying well over R10.00 / litre since leaving Botswana on the 21st of January!! I mentioned this to the guy filling his car next to the bike and received a look that made it clear he thought I was out of my mind!! I wondered how long it would be before we were paying as much as our northern neighbours were for fuel, and other commodities which we took for granted here in South Africa… Try paying R18.00 for a packet of Ginger biscuits… That will have your eyes watering…
I slowed down as I entered Chrissiesmeer, purely out of concern for the frogs…
Back on the N17, and less than 100 kilometres from home, I slowed the bike down to think about the distance I had travelled, the places I had been and the people I had met. It was a winding down process that I took enormous enjoyment from…
Cars whizzed by me as I chugged along at a sedate 110km/h, my mind far away, my cheeks lifted by the huge grin I knew I was sporting!! I could feel the emotion building inside me as I passed Carnival City and indicated for the exit to Rondebult Road… I noticed that it was a little after 2.00pm, and realised that the factory in Wadeville would still be open, so I changed lanes and rode on to the Osborne turnoff and turned into the premises of Florentine Furniture, to see the staff before they went home…
Mynah, our receptionist, covered her mouth in horror at the sight of the bearded apparition which confronted her at the front desk!! Shades of the hotel in Iringa!! She insisted that I shave as soon as possible!! Annette. Karien and Jenny were happy to see me, and I even received a smattering of applause as I passed through the factory, greeting my production management and their teams… It seemed that I had been missed after all!!
I decided to check my emails, and at the sight of “Receiving message 1 of 122”, I bolted for the door, got back on my bike and headed for home!! I needed the weekend to prepare myself for the stress that was no doubt awaiting me…
At 5.12pm, after 76 days, 16 825 kms through 9 countries, I turned the “Big Fella” off for the last time on this trip… I sat on the bike in my driveway for a few minutes, a sense of wonder and disbelief building within me…
I HAD MADE IT…!!!
Home… The big circuit of Southern and Eastern Africa completed…
My sister was there to greet me, and couldn’t wait for me to get off the bike and take my helmet off to see my face… I fiddled around with my gloves, taking my time to open the visor to take my sunglasses off, while she snapped a few photos of the bike and I… Then with a flourish, I whipped off my helmet and watched as her jaw dropped open!! I was a very different looking man to the one that she had bid farewell to on the 15th of December, 11 weeks ago…
The hair had grown, and a wild and woolly beard had sprung from my face… her first words were predictable… “Oh, my God!!”…
We hugged for a long time, and then set about getting all the gear off the bike and into the house… Bit by bit, the “Big Fella” emerged from under the gear he had carried around for so long, until finally he stood there in the driveway, with his worn tyres, mudguard missing, chromed bits covered in dirt, and his windshield and headlights covered in the bugs of many countries… I made a silent promise to myself that I would never part with this bike… We had been through too much together…
After a hot shower and a large plate of spaghetti bolognaise, I settled down to show Charmaine the photos and videos I had taken, and to relate a few of the many highlights I could immediately remember… Midnight came and went, and still we sat talking… (Actually…she listened, I did the talking!!)
I was reminded that I had to give her a lift to the airport in a few hours time, and with that thought in my head, I went to bed wondering how soon sleep would come, as I was still on a “natural high” from the telling of parts of my story, and the memories they brought back…
Sleep came after about 23 seconds as I recall….!!
First photo of me on arrival, looking a bit wild I must admit…
Final photo of the console and GPS before I switched off for the last time… We had started with a reading of 4 737km on the 15th of December, and the speedo now stood at 21 021km…
I began stripping the bike of all the gear, while Charmaine snapped away with her camera…
My trusty lap-top that had kept me so VERY busy during the journey, updating my daily travels…
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