I decided to not opt for the hotel breakfast because they're normally overpriced so instead I had half a loaf of buttered sandwiches as I sat on my balcony. The sky was grey and overcast which suited me as I think my arms would've disintegrated if they saw anymore sun.
As i do try and focus on the positives, I would like to say I set off fresh with a new love for cycling in Kenya, but I didn't. The second I sat down on the saddle I was reminded of my saddle soars and then when I got on the main road I was reminded of the horrible speed bumps and raging truck drivers, two more pain in the arse's. What's worse than speed bumps on the cycle section? No cycle section at all, and as time went on I could see the cycle section slowly deteriorate in front of me.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to curse the speed bumps, don't go, please come back, I can't handle no cycle section at all! For the time the cycle section was hanging on to the edge of the road by about a foot, I was ok. Riding was boring but I was ok and putting in some decent mileage as the terrain was perfect. Then sure enough I looked down to see my back wheel looking like Bruce Grobbelaar's legs and I knew the inevitable had happened again.
I don't know how many miles I had managed before the spoke went as I heard something ping after around 10 miles but I stopped on 30 miles. This was not a voluntary stop, this was a forced stop in the same way my broken collarbone was forced. The cycle section was now sand and grit and there was nothing for me to cling onto on the main road. I checked the broken spoke, yep, that's broken alright and I had four or five loose ones to add to it. I stood on the side of the road staring into space. What do i do now? I've faced these challenges before but they don't get any easier to handle. I decided to just have a walk and a think. The walk would take the pain off my backside at least and being off the road would make me about 80% more likely to see today's sunset.
I pushed Nigel for two miles past really native villages trying to make the most of the situation. I actually enjoyed those two miles more than the last day and a half. That's what I can take from this I thought, I've found myself chucking all Kenyan's into the Truck driver pot and consequently hated every second I've cycled. They're not all truck drivers are they?! It's just unfortunate that my ride involves coming into contact with truck drivers for 90% of my time here.
I put things a little more into perspective, it didn't fix Nigel but it helped me clear my mind. So what's next then? I thought. I'll wait for a clear section of road, I'll commit a bit more into the road so trucks ahead of me can see me coming and trucks will have to slow down more behind me, and we'll see how far I get. By this time, the gritty edge of the road was a good foot and a half drop off the rugged edge of the tarmac. I waited for a clear section, lifted Nigel up into the road and began to pedal. (Despite having a bit of a jelly wheel)
I lasted 1.5 miles until a lorry coming towards me decided to try and overtake 4, yes 4 lorries in front of him with no respect for me whatsoever, prompting me to have to bail and drop down onto the gravel. That's it! I thought, I can think of loads of cool ways to die and being hit by some twat of a Kenyan driver is not exactly one of them. I apologise for my language as so far this blog has been rated "U" but I've had to bump it up to "PG" to emphasise how atrocious and serious this issue really was. I'm not typing this blog in the heat of the moment either, I've had at least 8 hours to think about it and that "T" word is honestly being nice to the Lorry drivers!
I then put more things into perspective, I have two nieces back home that I have never seen and I have the best family and friends IN THE WORLD who are spread all over the world, that I want to see, so is trying to cycle on the tarmac to get to some poxy Kenyan town by sunset really worth risking my life for?
With that, I made the decision to push Nigel on the sand and grit as far as I could be bothered.
I pushed him for a further 5 miles and actually really enjoyed it. I could put both ear plugs in and could belt out Phil Collins without the very real risk of being flattened. (There was still a risk but maybe I would avoid instant death)
I walked to a town called Mackinnon and had lunch in a nice big restaurant at a petrol station. This is rare, so it was a good sign that I was nearing a more a built up "civilisation" like Mombasa. The sign said 96km to Mombasa so i sat in the restaurant with a decision to make. Do I continue my plan, fix Nigel, nurse him the detour to Kilifi and hope he gets there and down to Mombasa or, do I just go to Mombasa and scrap Kilifi. It seems a shame to come all this way to Mombasa and not visit the organisation in Kilifi as it was one of the first places recommended to me. I sat there thinking for a while but it wasn't my brain that helped me with the decision in the end. Earlier my stomach had been cramping pretty badly and after lunch I was still in quite a lot of pain. I couldn't go much further which meant I wouldn't be able to make Kilifi for another two days anyway, but if I stayed in Mackinnon I could make Mombasa tomorrow.
If I made Mombasa tomorrow and found a good place to stay, which was possible as I have a friend working on a contact there, then I could get Nigel fixed there and always take a short bus to Kilifi. That way I'm not "cheating" my ride and I still get to meet the organisation "Moving the Goalposts." That was that then, but for the time being I needed to lie down and get some rest. The waiter recommended a good place to stay the night which further confirmed to me I was making a good decision and so I walked the 200m down the street to the motel. I was back to the solitary confinement of a room but it was perfect for getting some shut eye as it didn't even have electricity to produce any distraction such as a light bulb!
I took the broken spoke out and just adjusted the wheel with one less spoke. Not ideal but I wasn't going to remove the tyre again as I only need 96 more km's out of him before a couple of rest days and a fix up.
I slept for a few hours and felt much better. Subconsciously I knew the Arsenal- Liverpool game was on soon and I woke up just before it started. I had food and sat and watched the footy surrounded by new Kenyan friends. I made sure none of them were Lorry drivers before I started my conversation and I had a good night watching the entertaining match and the even more entertaining crowd. (Some of them cheered like goal had been scored when there was a substitution)
A new plan has been set for an early start tomorrow. It really shouldn't matter as long as I get to Mombasa but I've been told that the cycle path returns at Mariakani and then I get a nice ride to Mombasa. Mariakani is 50km away but at least the cycle path is something to look forward to!
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