With Algeciras in striking distance the easiest leg of the trip is now almost over, so maybe this is the point at which I should reflect on just how easy it has been so far. I've covered about 15% of the total distance to Cape Town in just a few days, cruising down well maintained roads at a steady 70 with (for the most part) well signposted directions. If these conditions continued I could make it to Cape Town within a month, but somehow I think that from here on out things aren't going to be quite as smooth...
The journey so far has been mainly about covering distance; France and Spain are both countries I have been to a few times before, and while I did make a couple of stop offs (Seville, Ronda) there haven't been many. It has been good to have a few days to work out how long per day I can sit in the saddle, whether I am carrying all of the gear I need, and to get a sense of just how far I have to go (hint: a bloody long way).
If I am being completely honest, I did have a moment of doubt waking up this morning at the campsite in Ronda. I had picked up a mild bout of food poisoning from some questionable paella in Seville and was feeling a bit lethargic in the morning. The doubts weren't so much about whether I should do the trip at all, but packing up my gear whilst feeling a bit sick made me think how much easier it would all have been in a 4x4; you could just sleep on the roof and sling your gear in the back without having to elaborately pack and strap everything down each time. As soon as I got out into the Andalusian hills though, I remembered what is so good about the bike. Winding through the mountain roads in blazing sunshine, fresh air in my face with all the smells of the forest, leaning into the corners (as much as my heavy load would allow) was so much fun, and makes me excited to get on and see what there is to see in Africa.
The journey so far has been mainly about covering distance; France and Spain are both countries I have been to a few times before, and while I did make a couple of stop offs (Seville, Ronda) there haven't been many. It has been good to have a few days to work out how long per day I can sit in the saddle, whether I am carrying all of the gear I need, and to get a sense of just how far I have to go (hint: a bloody long way).
If I am being completely honest, I did have a moment of doubt waking up this morning at the campsite in Ronda. I had picked up a mild bout of food poisoning from some questionable paella in Seville and was feeling a bit lethargic in the morning. The doubts weren't so much about whether I should do the trip at all, but packing up my gear whilst feeling a bit sick made me think how much easier it would all have been in a 4x4; you could just sleep on the roof and sling your gear in the back without having to elaborately pack and strap everything down each time. As soon as I got out into the Andalusian hills though, I remembered what is so good about the bike. Winding through the mountain roads in blazing sunshine, fresh air in my face with all the smells of the forest, leaning into the corners (as much as my heavy load would allow) was so much fun, and makes me excited to get on and see what there is to see in Africa.
