bicycle traveler september 2011 (1)

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STORIES

E QUIPMENT

THE HUNGRY C YCLIST

CROSSING BORDERS & MAGIC LETTERS20

30

GOD BLESS THE SINNERS

33

09By Helen Lloyd

By Peter Gostelow

SMALL TOWN AMERICA25By Friedel Grant

By Loretta Henderson

By Dennis Koomen & Paul Jeurissen

PHOTO STORY - TIBET10By Nathalie Pellegrinelli

TEST EXTRAWHEEL18By Tom Allen

TRIP GEAR16By Grace Johnson

By Zoa and Fin

06

IMAGES FROM THE ROAD - K YRGYZSTAN & SCOTLAND

Photo left: Nathalie Pellegrinelli

Cover photo: Rick Galezowski www.backintheworld.com

26By Claude Marthaler

ERIC ATTWELL - C YCLING AFRICA IN THE 1930’S

CONTENTS

34By Daisuke Nakanishi

PARTING SHOT - PERU

TravelerBicycleRIDING HIGH IN THE DOLOMITES

C OLUMN

P HOTOGRAPHY

INTERVIEW



P h o t o s P

a u l J e u r i s s e n

CONTRIBUTORS

Bicycle Traveler is copyright Grace Johnson

All material has been used with permission

and is copyright original sources.

The articles published reect the opinions

of their respective authors and are notnecessarily those of the editor.

COPYRIGHT

CONTACT

[email protected]

DISCLAIMER

Grace Johns

Daisuke Nakanishi Daisuke Bike

Loretta Henderson SkalatitudePaul Jeurissen Paul Jeurissen

Claude Marthaler Yaksite

Friedel & Andrew Travelling Two

Peter Gostelow Big Africa Cycle

Tom Allen Tom’s Bike Trip

Nathalie Pellegrinelli Nathalie ickr

Helen Lloyd Helen’s Take on

Zoa & Fin Cycling GypsiesRick & Maggie Back in the World

From the editor

Dennis & Marijcke Toko op Fietsvakantie

Bicycle Traveler magazine is my attempt at bringing some of the best bicycle touringphotography and stories together in a magazine format. I hope you enjoy reading it as

much as I enjoyed putting it together.

A big thanks goes out to all of the contributors who gave permission to reprint their

stories and pictures. You can visit their websites by clicking on the url in their article bio’s.

http://www.daisukebike.be/http://www.skalatitude.com/http://www.pauljeurissen.nl/http://www.yaksite.org/http://www.travellingtwo.com/http://www.thebigafricacycle.com/http://www.tomsbiketrip.com/http://www.flickr.com/photos/15222814@N05http://helenstakeon.com/http://cyclinggypsies.wordpress.com/http://www.backintheworld.com/http://www.toko-op-fietsvakantie.nl/http://www.toko-op-fietsvakantie.nl/http://www.backintheworld.com/http://cyclinggypsies.wordpress.com/http://helenstakeon.com/http://www.flickr.com/photos/15222814@N05http://www.tomsbiketrip.com/http://www.thebigafricacycle.com/http://www.travellingtwo.com/http://www.yaksite.org/http://www.pauljeurissen.nl/http://www.skalatitude.com/http://www.daisukebike.be/



Story & Photos: ZOA & FIN

The Cycling Gypsies pedal over Italy’s Passo Giauwith the help of their dogs Paco and Jack.

DolomitesRiding high in the



We pedaled higher and deeper

into the mountains until the

sweat trickling down our faces

gave off an icy chill. Beside our

bikes our two furry companions were trotting

at full attention. Noses were twitching, tails

were raised proudly, and their eyes weredarting from side to side looking for the rst

glimpse of movement. Something juicy was

lurking within the steep banks of pine forest

either side of us.

It was May in the majestic peaks of the Ital-

ian Dolomites and a fresh one metre dump

of snow was made all the more beautiful by

a string of sunny days that had turned the

sky into a deep blue canvas. It was cycling

heaven, or at least our version of it. A tranquil

mountain back-road, abundant nature and

With a blur and a crackling of branch-

es a family of deer were nimbly navigat-

ing through trunk and snow. Our wannabe

hunting dog Paco let out a yelp and a trot

burst into a sprint. Fortunately he was at-

tached to the side of my overloaded bikevia a harness and lead, and his exuberance

was helping to propel me up the mountain.

As we climbed higher the snow thickened

and the trees thinned. The road grades turned

from unrelenting, to punishing, to downright

masochistic. “Breath-taking? I’ll give you

breath-taking”, the mountains sniggered.

During our time cycling through Italy,

Jack, our uffy Husky/Retriever/Collie/

Grizzly Bear cross, had attained some-

thing of minor celebrity status. Narrow

cobblestoned streets would often become

congested with bottlenecks of admirers

with the cries of “Ciao bello! Ciao bello!”

Above: A dog and his trailer

Opposite page: Cycling up Passo Giau

Below: Bicycle services along the Drau River



Below: The fully loaded touring bike

Bottom: View of the Dolomite Mountains

You can read more stories from Zoa and Fin’s

travels and check out their children’s picture

book series “The Dog Detectives” at:

http://cyclinggypsies.wordpress.com

So it was no surprise that as we neared

the top of the pass we heard someone whis-

tling by the side of the road. Only this time

there were no Italians in sight, just a lone

marmot standing up on its hind legs letting

his friends know that the circus had come to

town. Our dogs had become used to boring

old cows and had learned to tolerate sheep,

but marmots!? This was too much…

Paco’s desperate sprint resumed while

Jack quickened to a hurried lumber.

With the help of the marmots

we made it to the top of the 29 hairpin turns

exhausted, exhilarated and ready for a cat-

nap. But it was time for the dogs to put up

their paws and enjoy the wind in their fur. It

was time for gravity to do its thing.

Whooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!! The north face

of the mountain was simply awe inspiring.As I ashed by a group of cross country ski-

ers packing up their car I honked my rubber

ducky style horn and waved. Before I knew it

I was already past them bending around the

next hairpin turn.

We stopped half way down the moun-

tain to let our brakes cool down, when a car

pulled over to the side of the road. It was the

skiers wondering if we’d like to join them for

lunch. Hmmm… a home cooked Italian feast

with wine and fresh pasta? Let me think for

a minute… BT



“The beer map of Africa” and other trip reports from Helen Lloyd’s journey England -

South Africa can be found on: http://helenstakeon.com.

P a u l J e u r i s

s e n

By HELEN LLOYD

Hungry cyclistThe

Nearing the small town of Khorixas (South Africa) after

an increasingly hot long day on the road, I smell food.Really good food. Meat. A barbeque. There are two bakkiesparked by the roadside. Smoke is rising from behind. I slowdown. A white face peers out from behind one truck andwaves hello. I wave back. Cycle over.

“That smells really good,” I say. Already salivating. This introduction is the slightly

subtler version of the uninvited guest. What more can be said but, “Would you

like to join us for some kebabs?” And what more can I say but, “Yes please”, al-

ready licking my lips in anticipation.

Hungry cyclists are the scourge of the roadside picnickers. Not baboons or hy-

enas. Sorry guys. Two kebabs, a rack of ribs and a drink later, I hit the road again,

fully satiated. The kind guys from Grootfontein pack up too and continue their

return journey from a shing trip on the Skeleton Coast. I suspect they stopped

again further down the road and restarted the bbq, without the hungry cyclist. BT



PHOTO STORY

Photos: NATHALIE PELLEGRINELLIT I B E T



Camping on the Aksai Chin Plateau



1

Cycling West Tibet “Our route from Lhasa to Kashgar took usthrough magnicent places of rare solitude.Claude and I also experienced intense

fatigue as we crossed several mountainpasses over 5,000 meters.” Nathalie



2

43

5

1. Potala palace, Lhasa 2. Ganden Monastery

3. Mani stones 4. Nathalie with herdswoman

5. Nomad family

You can see more of Nathalie’s photos from her

two year bicycle trip through North Africa and

Asia, plus pictures from her current travels at:

Nathalie Pellegrinelli - fickr.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/15222814@N05http://www.flickr.com/photos/15222814@N05



TRIP GEAR

The Specialized purist water bottle tastes like

drinking from a glass. Specialized has achieved

this by infusing the bottle with silicon dioxide

which forms a protective barrier that prevents

odors, stains, and mold from attaching to theinside surface. After the infusion the bottle re-

mains exible for easier drinking. Price: U.S. $10

www.specializedwaterbottles.com/purist

Purity Water Bottle

The newest pocketknife from French knife-

maker Baladeo weighs just 22 grams. The

stainless steel knife unfolds to a length of

6,7 inches. Price: U.S. $30

www.baldeo.com

Leightweight Pocketknife

3-Pound, 3-Man TentAt just 3 pounds packed up, Easton’s new 3P

tent is very light when you consider that it of-

fers cyclists 43 square feet of oor space. It

will be available in 2012. Price: U.S. $499

http://eastonmountainproducts.com

A cross-section of equipment for bicycle travelers

EQUIPMENT



At Eurobike 2011 Schwalbe announcedthat the new Marathon Mondial tire is the

successor to the Marathon XR, a touring

tire used by many expedition cyclists. Hope-

fully the Marathon Mondial will prove just

as durable and puncture resistant as the

Marathon XR. Price: not yet determined

www.schwalbetires.com

Expedition Tire

The Optimus Titanium Spork is for the truly weight

conscious. It combines a spoon and fork into one

single lightweight utensil. The spork weighs 17

grams and is 6.5” long. Price: U.S. $9.95

www.optimusstoves.com

Titanium Spork

CRAFT introduced at Eurobike the BikeFeatherlight Vest and Jacket. They beat

cool breezes, compress small and are

made from a windproof polyester fabric

that weighs only 37 g/m2.

Price: not yet determined

www.craft.se

Jacket & Vest



P h o t o s

T o m A

l l e n

Tom Allen tests the single wheel Voyager out

in an off-road trip through Mongolia.

Extrawheel’s original Classic model,

with its cargo nets and canoeists’

drybags, is no longer in produc-

tion. Why? Because Extrawheel,

after a lot of prototype-testing and feed-

back by myself and other intrepid riders,have hit upon something that’s even sim-

pler, lighter and more practical: the Voyager.

The Voyager was launched last year and

I’ve been able to put it through its paces in

some of the toughest conditions I’ve ridden.

Carrying a pair of big, waterproof panniers,

the Voyager excels when taken off-road,

and mine has now been through a couple

of thousand kilometres of dirt roads, single-tracks, jeep trails, river-beds and no-track-

at-all cross-country riding.

The improvements over the original Clas-

sic trailer are immediately obvious. The plas-

tic-and-fabric hood has now gone, replaced

by an optional lightweight fender (which I

removed for weight-saving and simplicity).

The amount of metal in the frame has been

halved. It’s so simple it seems ridiculous thatnobody thought of it before! The whole thing

ts into a standard bike box — along with the

bike itself! Extrawheel’s claim to have pro-

duced the world’s lightest single-wheel trail-

er seems to be well-founded.

Coupling with the bike is done using the

original sprung-steel fork, which I have found

to be 100% reliable. The bearing surfaces

have been redesigned so that the ball andsocket can each be replaced, rather than

having to replace the whole frame or fork

if the bearing surfaces wore through (as

Test Extrawheel VoyagerEQUIPMENT



tain-biking territory, and allow the load to be

repositioned lower for more stability when

appropriate. Perhaps this would work well in

a hypothetical 29-er setup (i.e. a bike and

trailer with 29-inch wheels).

The original trailer’s other plus-points

still apply. Wear and tear on the bike itselfis massively reduced. You get a spare front

wheel — also meaning spare spokes, bear-

ings and a rim for the back wheel, of course.

It’s compact enough to cause no additional

fuss on public transport. It’s affordable in

comparison to the competition, customer

Tom Allen tests new equipment for manufac-

turers who support his bike trips with their

products. During 2011 he is working on a book

and lm of his extensive travels. Find out more

at www.tomsbiketrip.com For more info, over

the Extrawheel see: www.extrawheel.com

service is excellent, and it’s an great source

of amusement and interest to everyone you

encounter on the road!

It’s probably not optimal for slimline

road-touring, but I won’t hesitate to takemy Extrawheel Voyager with me on off-road

expeditions and to parts of the world where

conditions are likely to be tough. Adventur-

ous bikers: Ditch the front panniers, take

the strain off your back wheel and ride a

bike which makes tough terrain a source of

enjoyment, rather than suffering.

Extrawheel have taken a big risk ventur-

ing into the specialist trailer market, whichwas previously dominated by BOB, but their

adaptability and ingenuity has paid off in

the form of the Voyager, which is the most

rened off-road-friendly luggage solution

I’ve used to date.

happened to me in Ethiopia in 2009). From

a durability point-of-view in the long term,

this is a big plus point.

The reduced-size frame now features

narrow-gauge steel tubing and retainer tabs

for mounting panniers, instead of the previ-

ous net-and-sack arrangement. This meansthat packing and quick access is far more

practical, the load is more stable as a re-

sult, although the bike can no longer be

jack-knifed to stand up if rear panniers are

used as well. The supplied Crosso Expert

panniers, fully-waterproof and constructed

of durable laminated canvas, are easily big

enough to carry everything I desired to put

on the trailer — in Mongolia, that was every-

thing except food, tent and tripod.

As with the Classic, the handling of the

bike benets greatly off-road from the fact

that front panniers are no longer needed —

now you can carry luggage and steer it as

well! I found the greatest stability with about

a 70:30 ratio of weight on the trailer and in

the rear panniers respectively. This balancewas ideal in terms of manoeuvrability and

capacity; the two main factors when head-

ing off the beaten track for long periods

of time.

Riding singletrack demonstrated the

trailer’s limits. I found that on particularly

technical sections, where I was still able

to ride the bike itself, the panniers some-

times bounced off obstacles which werebigger than the panniers’ ground clearance

allowed for. I encountered similar problems

when the track became really narrow — but

these were hiking trails after all. I can’t

blame the trailer for my route choices!

If there’s anything that could be im-

proved, it would be to add ‘off-road’ tubing,

in addition to the standard tubes, to allow

the panniers to be mounted a few incheshigher, or even allow for extra ‘rack-top’ lug-

gage to be strapped on. This would consid-

erably extend the trailer’s range into moun-

“The Voyager excelswhen taken off-road”

BT



Story & Photos: PETER GOSTELOW

Magic Letters

Checkposts

Hiromu and Peter Gostelow cross

into the Central African Republic


21/34SEPTEMBER 2011 - WWW.BICYCLETRAVELER.NL 21romu and



So I pretended not to understand the demand for moneyand just continued to smile. Here I was at the rst check

post in the Central African Republic and what I’d read andbeen told about the country seemed accurate. I was being

asked to pay 5000CFA ($10) to have my passport details logged in

a tattered notebook. The soldier in military fatigues looked seriousenough. I wanted to comment on how shiny his black boots were,but my passport in his hands was more of a concern.

Hiromu performed his normal display of

stubbornness for the occasion, pretending

like me that he didn’t understand. But it

wasn’t working, nor was our explanation that

we had already paid 55,000CFA for the visa

in Yaounde and would not be paying more

to enter the country. I guess most people

paid something, but to concede at the rst

hurdle would be setting a bad precedent for

the many check posts that lay ahead.

So I went to retrieve my magic malaria

letter, which states, in brief, that ‘Mr Peter

Gostelow is working voluntarily on behalf

of the Against Malaria Foundation and re-quests cooperation for an untroubled pas-

sage through the country’. Included at the

top of this letter I had written, printed and

photocopied several weeks before was a

logo of the AMF, which matched that on my

dust-covered cycling jersey I was wearing in

this airless wooden hut. The soldier read the

letter in detail, looked at me and my jersey

with a raised brow and loosened his graspon our passports.

I half-expected he would laugh and throw

the letter back at me, but instead it was our

passports that were returned. The magic

malaria letter signed by ‘Bob Mather’ had

worked, although I feel it needs touching-up

with a sentence or two to state something to

the effect of: ‘under no circumstances ask Mr

Gostelow for payment at your control post’.I could spend the rest of this article de-

scribing something about almost all of the

next 17 check-posts that lay ahead of me to

Below: Fulani girls from the C.A.R.

Right: Schoolkids in the Congo



the capital Bangui, a distance of 600km. That

makes it a check post roughly every 35km.

At a few problematic check posts I let Hi-

romu produce his own magic letters. These

consisted of slips of paper where he used

Chinese characters to write down the name

of the ofcers, then presented the paper

with an explanation that if they kept these

pieces of paper in their shirt pockets theywould be protected from any harm. I found it

difcult to keep a straight face as one soldier

seemed hypnotised by the Chinese charac-

ters before carefully slipping the paper into

his breast pocket. Traditional/spiritual be-

liefs are very strong in this part of Africa. Hi-

romu has since found better paper to write

on, the colours of which match those of the

Democratic Republic of the Congo ag, thenext country where we anticipate more of

these problem check posts.

Entering the capital Bangui proved the

biggest headache. Just when I thought that

the check posts were becoming easier to

negotiate and the keep-it-cool jocular rap-

port with the bored soldiers was working my

passport got taken from me and stamped

by the police. ‘But I don’t need I stamp’ I

said, ‘I’m not leaving the country yet’. Well

apparently I do to enter Bangui, so down it

went in my passport, swiftly followed by a

serious demand for $20. The magic letter

didn’t work on this occasion, but fortunatelyI already had the passport back in my pos-

session while the call for 10,000CFA was re-

peated. Hiromu on the other hand didn’t. It

“I half-expected he would

laugh and throw the letter

back at me”



took another hour of waiting, explaining and

staying calm before we both had our pass-

ports and were free to continue. I think leav-

ing the city might produce similar problems.

Bangui itself looks like it’s been caught

in a time-warp. The city, which sits on a

bend of the Ubangui river, is my last stophere in the Central African Republic. Across

that brown murky expanse lies the Demo-

cratic Republic of the Congo. It’s an excit-

ing and daunting thought – the hundreds

of kilometres of rarely travelled tracks that

lie ahead in a country that has occupied my

thoughts for many months. I expect more

problem check-posts, mud, sand, intense

heat, humidity, rain, sweat, bees, ies, mos-

quitoes, lack of edible food and clean wa-

ter and scenes of desperate poverty on a

scale greater than anywhere else on this

journey over the next few months. This is

the main course for me. If it isn’t hard I’ll

Below: African bike

Bottom: Missionary post

Peter Gostelow is bicycling to Capetown in

support of the against Malaria foundation. You

can follow him at: www.thebigafricacycle.com

be disappointed. All I hope is that I exit the

other side with bike, body and belongings

mostly intact and a few good stories to tell.

I feel there will be plenty of those, but you

might have to be patient to hear them.

P a u l J e u r i s s e n

BT



For your reading pleasure, as we pedal towards Glacier National

Park, here are excerpts from the crime report, as published in thelocal Flathead Beacon newspaper.

No, we’re not making this up:

12:30pm. At a Hungry Horse laundromat,

someone took clothing that was not their own.

1:08pm. Someone thought that several

checks had been stolen from his billfold.

Come to nd out, he had actually written the

checks himself.

1:39pm. Several llamas were running amok

near the Flathead County Fairgrounds. Au-

thorities assisted in a hasty round-up.

4:17pm. The Columbia Falls Fire Depart-ment responded to a aming port-a-potty at

the local baseball eld.

4:32pm. Someone called to report a re in

their oven. Responding ofcers found no

ames but evidence of a bubbling pie.

7:06pm. Someone in Lakeside found an in-

jured bird, possibly a robin. The individual has

made arrangements to care for the creature.

7:51pm. A man was wandering about in a pair

of G-string underpants near the Steel Bridge,

much to the dismay of passers-by. Authorities

were unable to locate said individual.

4:54am. A man was seen hiding in

the bushes near a Columbia Falls resi-

dence. Upon further investigation, it was

found that he was the homeowner.

Friedel & Andrew Grant’s extensive website

www.travellingtwo.com contains their bike trip

reports, resources for bicycle travelers and the

e-book “Bike Touring Survival Guide”.

By FRIEDEL GRANT

Americasmall town

BT



They had no hats, no supplies, and

no experience, and they rode most-

ly on dirt tracks. Just for the fun

of it, they carried on to London.

About to embark on a similar journey, with

the aid of e-mail and GPS, Claude Martha-

ler dropped in on Eric Attwell to see if he

had any tips. It was an inspiring experience.

They call them spaceshipsToday’s generation of cycle travelers are

equipped with sophisticated machines, nick-

named “spaceships” by locals. They are of-

ten connected to their own world by mobile

phones, e-mail and tarmac. Their journeysmay be contrived by agents to secure spon-

sorship, headlines, and a place in the record

books. They are recorded on lm, video, print

and the web. Where once long-distance cy-

clists experienced the world, they now record

it. Where once they received, they transmit.

Have we lost something on the way?

With my own long bicycle odyssey round

the world drawing to a close, I went to meetEric Attwell, one of the last pioneers, an

85-year-old lively legend among transconti-

nental cyclists, who had done it all very dif-

ferently. In Cape Town, I had found a copy of

his book, The road to London, complete with

an endorsement from the internationally re-

nowned playwright Athol Fugard describing it

as “compulsive reading”. Over the next thou-

sand kilometres I too read it compulsively,racing through its chapters like a sprinter,

barely pausing to breathe. I nally knocked

at the door of its author’s small house in

Port Elizabeth, a harbour town on the Indian

Ocean shore of South Africa, knowing that

in Africa, old people are regarded as walking

libraries.Eric Attwell offered me a glass of red wine

and left me alone for a while, enough time

to look through his collection of geographical

books, and classical music recordings. His

ne features were always alert. He prepared

a meal and apologised for the modest sup-

per, knowing the legendary appetite of cy-

clists. As he signed his book for me I sud-

denly sensed his deep attachment to his journey. As he narrated his journey at slow

bicycle pace, the memories he evoked still

seemed to move him as they moved me.

Eric at home in South Africa

INTERVIEW

C l a u d e M a

r t h a l e r

Eric AttwellStory & Photo: CLAUDE MARTHALER

In the 1930s, Eric and Jack Attwell pedalled

the length of Africa on three-speed roadsters.



Travel is a kind of delinquencyAfrica in the thirties was a continent of col-

onies. A descendant of the English genera-

tion of “1820 settlers” in South Africa, Eric

Attwell had to send to London, the imperial

capital, for a bike. A modest man of modest

means, he chose a bicycle: “a car or a mo-torbike was far too expensive and a journey

on foot would have been too long”. His fam-

ily thought he was mad. “I have just been

reading your letter and have decided that

when you wrote it you must have been drunk”

wrote Sonny, his elder brother. “Pushing the

bike up long hills after touring the country in

a comfortable car would be absolute misery,

especially when other cars y past you cover-

ing you with dust”. In retrospect, Eric thinks

that they weren’t mad at all, but extremely

fortunate to have seen Africa as it was then.

Wilfred Thesiger once wrote: ”Travel is a

kind of delinquency, because it is antisocial,

a rejection of the norms most people live”.

There was an element of creative delinquen-

cy in the Attwells’ African odyssey. Eric hadbeen involved in left-wing politics in Britain,

particularly over the issue of the Spanish

Civil War, and had read the pacist writings

of Bertrand Russell. He and his brother Jack,

the elder by ten years, worked at a radio and

refrigeration business. This was now closing

down, and at the same time, the threat of

military conscription loomed. Young men still,

they wanted to see the world, not ght in it.“Jack was reading Hammerton’s ‘Our

Wonderful World’”, explained Eric, “and I had

been gripped by Howard Carter’s absorbing

account of the discovery of the tomb of Tut-

ankhamen. About a year earlier, after an eve-

ning at the cinema, we walked on the beach-

front. We started to talk of travel in a casual

way, as often before. When we returned to our

car, hours later, there seemed hardly a cornerof the world we were not determined to visit”.

They knocked at the door of three bike

companies’ dealers in Johannesburg:

“Hercules, BSA and Royal Eneld”. Only

the last one replied. “He was sure that the

manufacturer in London would open us his

arms and give us a nice fat cheque”, but for

now sold us the black equipped frames at

the standard price, three pounds and six

shillings each. He recalls his Brooks leath-er saddle, his Sturmey-Archer three speed

gear, his Reynolds chain and his John Bull

tyres as if it were yesterday. “We collected

our bikes at ve p.m. and at midnight we

were on the road”. He showed me the one-

to-two-million scale map they used A few

red lines indicated the then only existing

“roads” – only four hundred kilometres of

tarmac between Port Elizabeth and Cairo.

Attwell was curious but not at all envious of

my 24 gear mountain bike. “We had no mon-

ey, simple machines and bad trails, but we

were safe. People everywhere took us home

and we left our fully-equipped bikes in front of

their huts the night long. We didn’t even con-

sider robbery…” What sustained them along

their journey was the only thing you can’tpack: the kindness of strangers. They knew

what the two brothers needed: a hot meal, a

dry bed, and people who made them smile.

Time has revolutionised both cycling and

communication but, Eric believes, “the ma-

jor change has been in people’s behaviour”.

A man starts with his feet

They carried minimal equipment and evenless cash – 52 Rands at the outset – and

one unlikely luxury: Jack’s guitar. “Our depar-

ture was nearly a disaster”, Eric remembers.

“By the time we limped into Addo national

park, it was nearly ve and we were badly

sun burnt, stiff, saddle-sore, hungry, thirsty

and more than a little disillusioned.

“Folly, however, brings a kind of freedom.

Eric experienced a moment of truth as heseemed to oat above himself and looked

down with disconcerting awareness at the

fragility, insignicance and plain silliness



of the whole enterprise: “As we neared the

top of the hill after leaving the Swartkops, I

glanced back at the lights of Port Elizabeth

and suddenly realised for the rst time that

I was making a complete break with my for-

mer life, leaving friends, family and every-

thing familiar. It was a strange, frightening,but also exhilarating feeling.”

When the Attwell brothers nally arrived

in Johannesburg, they bought waterproof-

capes, pannier bags, tropical helmets, sleep-

ing bags, a tent and a new camera. In Rho-

desia (now Zimbabwe) they bought a tent.

A picture, taken later in the journey, shows

them with their eventual kit. The tent sits on

a rear rack with two panniers. Jack’s guitar is

xed into the frame.

“A man starts with his feet” say the Ab-origines of Australia. They got to know the

continent from the bottom upwards. Our

white-enamelled helmets and heavily laden

cycles made us very conspicuous, and we

soon became accustomed to people in vil-

lages, towns and on the open road stopping

to ask where we hailed from and where we

were heading”.

For all the set-piece descriptions of famoussights such as Victoria Falls, the amingoes

of the big Kenyan lakes, and Tutankhamen’s

tomb, it is the human side of the book that

emerges most vividly. Locals further north

had no idea about South Africa. “They were

surprised to see two white men riding bikes,

even more when I was looking for a bed. No-

body could grasp that we were going to Lon-

don”. Neither, at times, could the cyclists.African notions of time and hospitality

inltrated their journey as villagers became

their hosts, pressing services and repair

facilities upon them and refusing to accept

payment. Their cycles seemed to excite sym-

pathy. “Some of our hosts were very poor

people. Many were managers of the Darab

chain of stores, subsisted largely on commis-

sion, and could scarcely afford the hospital-

ity they extended do unstintingly. One of thepoorest actually tried to press a few shillings

on us as we were departing”. The book ends

with a “belated salute” to these generous

strangers: “Without their kindness, given so

spontaneously and so unstintingly, our ven-

ture would have been quite impossible”.

Diseases and disastersThe ‘roads’, such as they were, exacted a

heavy toll on their bikes. “We calculated that

in Africa alone we replaced nearly a hundredspokes. Replacing spokes was a tedious,

time-consuming chore and we usually wait-

ed until there were three or four to do on

each wheel. Tyres had to be removed and,

after the spokes were tted, the tension had

to be adjusted to ensure that the wheels

were properly balanced. Surprisingly we had

relatively few punctures. Our three-speed

gear seemed to provide disappointingly littleaid on the many really gruelling climbs we

encountered. Then there was no alternative

but to dismount and walk, so we wore out a

great deal more shoe-leather than we had

budgeted for.”

Tsetse ies were also a problem. They

acquired y whisks and rode one-handed as

they tried to keep the insects at bay. This al-

most led to disaster: swatting at a y, Eric hita pothole and careered off the road. His in-

juries were slight but the bike had a twisted

frame and bent forks, and he rode on with

“Nobody could grasp that we were going to London.

Neither, at times, could the cyclists.”



Claude Marthaler met Eric in 1999 during his

round the world bike trip. This interview was

rst published In Bike Culture Magazine. With

thanks to www.cyclorama.net.

Claude is a regular contributor to Velo Vision

magazine www.velovison.com since its begin -

ning and you can read about his travels at:

www.yaksite.org

his toes bumping the front wheel once ev-

ery revolution. He caught malaria in Malawi

all the same. One night, while Eric was on

his sick bed, Jack (an incurably popular char-

acter who “never seemed to arrive at a con-

ventional hour” was invited to a rather wild

party and “rolled into our room at 2 a.m. ina very merry state. He must have been very

popular at the party because his guitar had

two broken strings, the tips of his playing n-

gers were quite raw and his voice had almost

gone.” Eric himself had barely recovered be-

fore they set off again. “Every down-stroke of

the pedal was a major effort and my condi-

tion was not helped by the blistering heat.

The equator was still over 1,1OO kilometres

away and we could expect every day to be

progressively hotter”.

In Uganda, they were pleasantly surprised

by the number of cyclists: “One reection of

the relative prosperity of the people was the

remarkable number of bicycles. Practically

every adult male in the country seemed to

own a bike and the more afuent decoratedthem with an absurd variety of gadgets. Fre-

quently we spotted a cyclist with his wife on

the pillion, in all her owing garments and a

baby perched on her back. But we never saw

a woman cycling alone... Occasionally we

saw cyclists plying for hire – bicycle taxis.”

Further north they were defeated by Su-

dan’s virtually non-existent desert roads and

had to do the thousand kilometre stretchfrom Juba to Khartoum by paddle steamer

up the Nile. In almost every Egyptian village

they were harassed by lean, hungry, fero-

cious dogs, taking out upon them years of

frustration barking at imperturbable camels

and donkeys: “The dogs bark but the cara-

van moves on”, runs the ancient saying.

Not that the city streets were much safer.

“In Egypt pavements are for cafés, traders,shoe cleaners – in fact for any purpose ex-

cept walking. As a consequence everybody

walks in the road. The motorist, wanting to

get from point A to point B, starts his car and

automatically begins hooting. As he weaves

a passage between pedestrians, cyclists,

carts, hawkers, dogs and donkeys, he con-

tinues to hoot. Special ear-splitting horns

have been imported, and the noise of these,

the cycle bells, the cries of the hawkers, whoobviously had to pass a voice volume test

before they got the job, plus the general jab-

ber of the crowds was something that had to

be experienced to be believed”.

Safe European homeThe Attwell brothers nally reached Europe

still wearing their incongruous colonial hel-

mets in the teeth of a bitter winter. They

were forced to deposit their last 16 Rands

with Austrian customs, leaving them with

only 45 cents to get them across Austria.

Luckily, in Vienna they met the local head of

Associated Press who helped them out.

They arrived at London’s Victoria station

on Friday 17 December 1937, 22 months

and 6 days after leaving Port Elizabeth. Theyhad had only two quarrels along the way.

In London the Royal Eneld Company re-

ceived them coldly and offered them only a

cheque for 40 Rands. The makers of “John

Bull” tyres bought some pictures off them

for 75 cents each and used one in their ad-

vertising. They did two radio broadcasts for

the BBC and two television talks – a brief

but enjoyable moment of glory. The 11,000kilometer journey had cost them £160, in-

cluding the bikes. BT



DENNIS KOOMENwww.toko-op-etsvakantie.nl

Image Roadthe

from

Kyrgyzstan



PHOTOGRAPHY



PAUL JEURISSENwww.pauljeurissen.nl

Image Roadthe

from

Scotland



SINNERSBy LORETTA HENDERSON

Loretta seeks redemption as she pedals around

the world. Follow her solo female cycling

adventures at: www.skalatitude.com

P a u l J e u r i s s e n

COLUMN

Oh, Father Pedal, please forgive me for I have sinned, I am not worthy of the pulpit or spandex for that matter.

It has been 7 days since my last ride in the brooks saddle on this trip.

I am here today to con-

fess of my sin of having

taken almost a week off

from bicycle touring. The

guilt provoked by my sin

has consumed my lazy

soul. The guilt wallows in

my soul for I have spend

one day site seeing and

the other six lingering

around consuming Beer

Klang, chilling out withnew friends and aimlessly

lounging around the over-

ly touristy lake area of

Phenom Pehn, Cambodia.

While my sinful liver

and pedaling legs chilled

out in Phenom Phen, I met some fellow sin-

ners or bicycle tourists who have come from

Britain overland by bicycle. Their sin deeplymasked by a tale of unwarranted guilt for

having taken the train with bicycle through

the center of China due to a short visa. They

explained that they had “cheated” on their

bicycle tour from Britain through Asia into

OZ and New Zealand, unfaithful, adulter-

ous bicycle tourists, rat bastards of the

worst pedaling kind, I jokingly assured them.

Another sinner or bicycle tourist I met ad-mitted to having to make up excuses in or-

der to take one day off from his bicycle tour

through Africa. For instance excuses such as,

unnecessary bicycle check-

ups and double checking

maps on the internet became

prerequisites to getting off

the bicycle for even one day.

Simply being lazy or not rid-

ing for one day just because

was not an option for his and

many sin cloaked addicted bi-

cycle tourist souls.

Oh Father Pedal, why does

bicycle touring involve such ad-diction, withdraw and guilt? Is

it the endorphin high and

withdrawal from 4-7 hours of

daily exercise? Or perhaps our

egos are unaware that there

is other less attention getting

acts in life. Or maybe, it is the inner child

trying to relive our favourite childhood mo-

ments of riding a bicycle. Oh Father Pedal,please forgive me for I have joined the other

sinners. Please help me twelve step my way

back into the saddle, continue this journey

and seek solace amongst other sinners or

bicycle tourists along the way. And Father

Pedal please forgive me because God Bless

The Sinners has become my favorite expres-

sion for all acts of joyful blasphemy.

God bless the

BT


34/34

Daisuke Nakanishi www.daisukebike.be

TravelerBicycle

Parting shot

bicycle traveler september 2011 (1)

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