A much needed lie in, all inclusive breakfast then a failed attempt to repair my GPS charging lead. Instead I clean Livingstone in preparation for his proud entry in to Cape Town in a few days’ time. Feeling very depressed at the moment, I don’t want to go home, I want to live on the road. I like it here, there’s nothing except for ploughed fields growing failed crops as far as the eye can see.  I ask the proprietor for suggestions on what to do, he says in his South African accent “Here, there is nothing for miles around”,

To be published. Here’s s sneak preview: 0 miles. “After breakfast, I take a ride in Louis’ Urla side car to the ferry port that crosses the Congo river from Brazza to Kinshasa and make enquires of tomorrows time table. There appears to be one passenger ferry a day and we arrive just in time to see the two SA chaps off. I signal to them how they got their motorcycle aboard, they replied with muscle and at a cost of 25,000 CFA each and no more. There are Police and military present at the port but fights are happening

I continue along the perfect smooth tarmac roads with not even a tricky diversion to contend with. Emerging from the forests I see local hunters proudly showing off their catch swung over their shoulders, normally monkeys. Dogs snap at my ankles and goats casually walk across the road undeterred from the roar of my engine. The twisting forest road eventually straightens and villages are sparse. It’s the first time since Mali I’m able to reach speeds in excess of seventy mph, I can hear the bike clearing its injectors and airways as it growls along exhilaratingly. Exiting Mouila, I turn right

419 miles (6022 miles to date) I packed what equipment I hadn’t sent home and left Yaounde early this morning, as planned. I was pleased at how better the bike handled now it’s carrying less weight. I made good progress and soon crossed the border in to Gabon. At the border post, I had nothing to pay exiting Cameroon nor entering Gabon to the Police, Military or customs which is a sure sign of a welcoming country. Riding through Southern Cameroon and in to Northern Gabon was a magical experience. The perfectly tarmacked road twists, drops and climbs through rain

A productive day. I returned to the Gabon embassy where I am questioned as to my mode of transport. To the Ambassadors surprise I tell them by motorcycle which always earns me respect in the consulates. I am also asked if I have booked accommodation, I tell him I haven’t but here is my planned accommodation. The Ambassador looks objectively at me and says this could be a problem but let me see what I can do. After two hours of waiting in the reception, whilst the taxi meter is running, the lady receptionist returns and hands me my passport.

Today is a good day as I am able to finally submit my Gabon visa application after my mix up of days over the weekend. I take breakfast in the hotel which is included and consists of Pain du chocolate, bread, butter jam and coffee with milk which is perfect and all I require. The Gabonese embassy is my first stop which is just around the corner form the hotel here in Yaounde. On the way I see the lads I eventually caught up with last night and they tell me there off to a Gorilla sanctuary this afternoon then

Because of me thinking today was Monday rather than Sunday, the morning goes slow and I have nothing planned. I make enquires to visit the local museums, but there shut. I send various messages and Skype Kerry as the internet connection is good at the Miemum Palace Hotel where I’m staying. Since being in Yaounde, I have noticed more Chinese people being a strong indication of their influence throughout West Africa where they strip the earth of its minerals. I ask the locals how they feel about this and twice they have replied saying “Well we needed help. We waited

234 miles (5602 miles to date) This morning, the Hotel Manager and I checked the laundry room for my emergency wallet, it wasn’t there. I questioned the laundry boys and who seemed to answer truthfully that they hadn’t seen it so I now direct my suspicions towards the receptionist. Then again, maybe it was I who had lost the wallet when stripping naked in the hotel lobby, though I do remember using it shortly before arriving at the Azam Hotel. Anyway it’s gone and that is that. During my stay at the Azam, I refuelled with as much food as

0 miles At the hotel, I learn the two white men who left the morning I arrived are now only one day ahead and have diverted up in to the mountains to see the wildlife. I suspect they have a month visa as I should have been given. I predict I may overtake them whilst there in the mountains. Whilst crossing the Nigerian border I noticed one of their names, Bruce Beattie who I kind of know, coincidentally. Bruce contacted me through HU some months ago once he learned we had a similar route planned. Not too sure what happened but

Before I left the cock roach infested hotel in Kalsina, I foolishly emptied my water out from its container and emptied what fuel I was carrying in to the bike to lighten the load in preparation for today’s journey in to the Cameroon jungle. I crossed the border from Nigeria which surprisingly cost me nothing. I just try to smile and make jokes with the border officials in hope they don’t ask for anything. Unfortunately they did but I explain Lagos has taken up most of my Naira. They understand and wish me a good journey but not before a

207 miles (5226 miles to date) I’ve tried to stay positive whilst riding through Nigeria but it has been a challenge. Now I’m further East and escaped Lagos the people are much friendlier and the traffic less. In fact, the roads are clear; it’s just a matter of avoiding the pot holes which creep up on you. Road diversions are frequent from Onitsha to Ikom. The opposite carriageway is normally permitted and accessible if the road ahead is water logged. At the moment it hasn’t rained much so the dirt road diversion are easy going compared to the Ghanaian roads.

290 miles (5019 miles to date) This morning, my taxi driver picked up from the Lagos hotel to go and withdraw more money then went to apply for my Congo visa. I had sourced the address from Horizons Unlimited, but when I arrived the building looked derelict. First of all, the sign above the embassy read DRC which would have been the incorrect Congo anyhow, secondly the security guard informed the taxi driver and I that they had relocated to Abuja. I jumped back in the taxi and asked the driver to take me there. He looked at me with

0 miles. I woke early this morning to avoid any queues at the Cameroon embassy. I took a taxi as wasn’t prepared to fight my way through the crazy Lagos traffic. The drivers use their horns aggressively similar to their speech, though I soon became a custom that no harm is meant. My taxi driver was an old boy and knew all the short cuts. Travelling over the third and fourth bridge is a magical experience giving views of the surrounding slums and rubbish heaps which smoulder by the lagoons. The traffic is like nothing I have ever seen and

134 miles (4729 miles to date) Last night, I thought I deserved to wear a shirt after the two borders I crossed and made a visit to the local disco. I was the first and only one in there. It was dark so I attempted a quick shimmy on the dance floor. I thought It was only then I noticed the sets of bright white teeth beaming down on me from the balcony above. The hotel receptionist doubled up as the dj and took great pride in mixing his tunes. I suspect his father owns the resort as the discothèque

This morning I took the main road to avoid Accra, Ghana and finally hit the coast line. The road was bad and has been since arriving in Ghana and is usually due to road work diversions which take you along a heavily pot holed, corrugated road. Trying to avoid the pot holes really zaps your energy in the midday temperatures have now dropped to around 32’C and the sky is over cast. The border between Ghana and Togo has been one of the busiest where I met my aggressive fixer who insisted all people from England are rude. I asked

207 miles (4400 miles to date) Leaving the Baah Hotel in Wenchi this morning after an interrupted nights sleep due to suspected bed bugs, I ride past a naked young man curled up by the side of the road. I spin the bike round and return to see if he is still alive. I notice his feet still have colour so check his breathing and could see his chest rise and fall. I pinch his ear to get a reaction; his eyelids opened slightly indicating he is kind of ok. I ask him why he is naked, he doesn’t reply.

207 miles. (4013 miles to date) Last night I reviewed my route and decided to ditch the sat nav for the journey through Ghana (Dai would be proud of me). Leaving the roadside motel in Burkina I easily located the road to Klesso which I hoped to be a short cut avoiding the main road in to Ghana. My Michellin map showed it to be an accessible road depending on whether conditions so I was pleased to find it still tarmacked. I crossed the quiet border from Ouessa into Hamale, Ghana with ease and as soon as I did so

338 miles. (3806 miles to date) In answer to some of your messages regarding Kerry and Dai’s feet and of course the disappearance of Eugine; Kerry is now back in the uk after minor surgery to repair the small broken bone in her foot and recently had her cast changed to a purple one and is doing fine. The last we heard of Eugine is from a Guardermerie at a check point who was expecting all three of us. The Guarder re traced Eugene’s route by calling back to previous check points to find out his whereabouts. The Guarder was

0 miles. Today, was supposed to be a rest day but typically there is always something to do when on the road especially when following such a strict time schedule. This morning after changing more Euro’s to CFA, I ordered a taxi to take me to the Nigerian Consulate so I could submit my visa application for the second time, as the first was rejected back in the uk. As there are only five tourists in Mali at this current time, I was the only applicant in the queue making it quite a contrast to the chaotic scenes at the

80.9 miles only (3468 miles to date and 3650 miles from my beloved) A slow bimble to the Sleeping Camel camp site in Bamako, which is a well-known travellers meeting point was supposed to be todays destination. Along the way we stop by a Sunday market and eat a chip and goat butty, it was lush! As we approached the city of Bamako, the traffic became heavily congested so we filtered through the traffic the best we could. We often had to under or over take the overloaded trucks which bellowed thick black exhaust fumes into our faces each time

274 miles. (3387 miles to date) Being keen to retrieve our passports, I woke early the next morning and quickly packed. The soldier gave us our passports and wished us “bon voyage”. Fifty kilometres down the road we approached the sleepy exit border post of Mauritania where our vehicle importation documents and passports were stamped out of the country. The process was surprisingly quick but we still had the entry border post of Mali to contend with. At the Mali border post we submitted our passports, visas and vehicle log books to the authorities along with the extra payments or

Approx. 250 miles. This morning, we woke at 0600 whilst it was still dark on the mountain top Bedowen camp site. We have noticed the further South we get the quicker the sun rises as the night stalkers of African wild life go to sleep whilst the birds wake as the light appears and their beautiful, unusual songs get louder and louder the lighter it gets. Since leaving the desert, the bush road is now surrounded by yellow, sun burnt grass where hundreds of cattle graze. Every few yards,  there are goat, camel, cattle and donkey carcasses scattered along the

Approx. 320 miles As planned we left the Auberge in Noukkashott relatively early as we were all keen to take advantage of the cooler 34’C mornings.  Every hundred yards there were Guardermerie stop checks where we are asked to hand over our Fiche. For some reason, Eugine hadn’t copied his which meant every stop was lengthily and took us one hour and a half just to exit Noukkashott. By then the sun was well up and temperatures soared up to an unbearable 42’C. With temperatures so hot, its making this journey a real challenge with every movement being an effort.

0 miles. Today is a day off, so not much to report on other than Eugine successfully obtaining his Mali visa, oh and not to mention the huge fruit bats flying over head the Aubegre at dusk. We thought they were birds of prey until one swooped down. Dai being a birder estimated a wing span of almost a meter; they were huge. We took advantage of the spare time by cleaning and checking over the bikes. I toped up the oil in mine. I wish I had of got a photo of Dai cleaning his, as it’s an unusual

Approx. 175 miles. Eungine, Dai and I woke with the cockerels crowing and the sun rising like a huge ball of fire above the horizon that shone bright rays over the small road side village. Madame came over to shake our hands and wished us “Bonne Route” as we packed up our sleeping bags (again) then started the bikes. The driving mannerisms of the local’s compared to Moroccans had noticeably changed for the worse. Cars often pulled out into our lanes quite aware of us being there. Ross, a fellow Canadian ABR’ had warned me of the “incomprehensible driving standards” and of

273 miles. A breezy night but still slept very well. A relaxed coffee and breakfast bar whilst we watched the sun come up above the sand dunes which cast huge shadows over our wild camp in the Sahara. Before we left we dug a ditch and buried our rubbish so not to pollute this beautiful landscape and then joined the same desert road we had been on for the last 800 miles towards the Mauritanian border. Berbers are becoming less frequent and Black, Africans more popular, a sure sign of our transition into Mauritania. Along the way we dodged the

Approx. 315 miles. After an unusual late night in Layoone, we packed early the following morning and checked out of the UN occupied hotel. A French soldier gave us some words of wisdom with regards to the security in Mali which was reassuring. He also said to ring the British Consulate if any further un acceptable fines are issued. “This normally results in the Guardermerie allowing you to pass freely” he said. A good tip to another traveller I think. Exiting Layoone, yet another Guardemerie stop check. When approaching I maintained eye contact with the officer awaiting his instruction to pass

272 miles. After a good ten hours sleep during last night’s sand storm, we woke this morning to prayers echoing around the old fort and now head further in to the Sahara desert along the dusty tarmac roads surrounded by the distant Anti Atlas Mountains. Along the way we take a fuel stop and drink coffee with a hint of spices whilst we listen to further prayers. It obvious to see the transition now becoming prominently Arabic and much of our French is no longer understood, especially in a Welsh accent anyhow, with the greatset respect Dai. We made steady

Approx. 357 miles. Last night we took a stroll along the promenade in the tourist area of Al Jadida. This morning we packed early to head for Agadir. The terrain was changing significantly from lush green hills to a more baron and desert like appearance. Riding through the Anti Atlas is a fantastic experience with amazing panoramic views of the sand coloured mountains, almost like being on the moon (I would imagine). The roads are well-constructed and traffic much less than in the North meaning we made really good progress.  Dai had a heart stopping moment when over taking a

148 miles. Yesterday, after returning from the embassy hot, dirty and sticky we opted for a bath in the hotel swimming pool next door un be know to the owners. It was our only choice. After all, if the kitchen below looks like this then you can imagine what the bathroom looked like. There was hardly any water pressure, no hot water, no drainage and I suspected the showers were being used as urinals because of the condition of the toilets, though it all adds to the adventure and overall the campsite wasn’t that bad compared to others. The embassy only

22 miles. Well here we are in the campsite foyer smoking which feels really strange to be able to smoke in doors. Let me tell you about todays events: Woke early this morning so that we could be first in line for our second attempt at the Mauritania visa. There was already ten applicants in line but this time the fixer from yesterday had been mutineered as some one else was now holding ‘the list’. A fight broke out to try and retrieve the list and some how I ended up in the middle. No punches thrown just argy bargy if

22 miles. This morning, we left the well-deserved four star hotel in Kinitra, Morocco and headed off on the 15 mile journey to the Mauritania Embassy so we could apply for our visa’. On arrival, it was evident all would not go to plan as there were already approx. 100 people crowded around and in the small office which had no windows. There was no organisation or queuing and the crowd of applicants soon began to fight and argue with each other as to who was next in line. The Mauritania Embassy is renowned for being busy and considering they