Hype Dark (All)

Switching Back Into It

2010-07-27T11:57:35Z

Familiarity, they say, breeds boredom. One of the previous TDA riders who I spoke to mentioned that it was a good idea to take some time off after the Tour in order to reflect over the fact that you've just traversed an entire continent. My plans worked out so that I had one final summer, a final period of 'nothingness', reminescent of the summers of my teens years (from the age of 16 I've been working every summer). I wondered how this would go down, whether it would be the productive playground I've always dreamt about, while studying or interning - experimenting with my computer or riding my bike lots. However, after the initial momentum of returning home had subsided, nothing really happened. Home is familiar and hence boring.

Somehow the days seemed to be filled with apparently meaningless tasks and my attempts to kill the lazy man within (sometimes it's hard to get motivated just to leave the house) are failing. My 'ToDo' list hasn't shrunk much and I'm rapidly running out of time. Life at home is lonely - many of my friends are either now wrapped up with work or are travelling, others are just impossible to get hold of. Our attempts at finding a flat in Central London is frustrating - both budget constraints and indecisiveness regarding location make it impossible to settle. In addition, being unable to coordinate with all members makes it tougher still, especially when you run the risk of making an unpopular decision.

I suppose my idea of utopia would involve some kind of shared consciousness where communication with other entities (or people) would be instantaneous and irrevocable. Knowledge would be uniformly shared or available when needed. One of my role models at school, a fellow (but far cleverer) Computer Scientist, always used to say something like 'you'll never get anything done depending on other people'. A true enough statement but with the contraints of finite time and resources, a team is a worthy asset if you aspire to anything great.

I despair too for the beginning of my 'career' in just a few weeks time. Does this seem like the beginning of the end? Oh yes. Meeting with my friends who've already started work is always fun (of course) but sometimes you can see through all the superficial conversation. I've met just one former classmate who seemed truly excited by the work he does. These are not your average graduates working 9 to 5 either, they have prestigious positions at well paying institutions. That leads to me to wonder where I'll end up next - I've always been aware that this was probably only a temporary position. I enjoyed the work and the people are great but there's just a handful of possible teams where I'd like to be placed. Regardless, it's the next step and I will try hard to keep the exciteable inner geek alive.

The summer is looking up now, so it's not all bad. The BBC Proms are on my calendar and my first mountain bike race for over a year (which could be disastrous). More of my flatmates will reachable to help the search for accommodation. Previously uncontactable friends have suddenly reappeared on the North London social radar. Some of the TDAers will be in London this weekend too. Until the singularity arrives and we become one superior consciousness, Facebook, email, text messages and the occasional terribly-awkward phone call with have to suffice.

(Written on my way back home from Kenya. My fifth and penultimate visit to the motherland this year.)

People

2010-07-27T11:53:27Z

Undoubtedly the best thing about the Tour D'Afrique is that you're travelling for four months with sixty like minded people from all parts of the world who do and have done all sorts of crazy things in their lives. As Steph commented early on, every rider is a type 'A' personality - extravert, outgoing and slightly off the wall.

One thing I've taken away from the Tour is that age doesn't really matter in the scheme of things. Riders' spanned all ages and generally got on well with each other.

There are a few main groups of riders, and obviously, like any attempt to categorise the natural world, it's an imperfect reflection of reality. Some riders fall into more than one group but for the sake of simplicty, I've omitted the rider-group matrix for now. I've borrowed some of the groups from Leah's article on the Tour D'Afrique. I haven't included everyone in here - not because some people are more interesting than others but a lack of motivation.

The Racers
Bearded Australian
Riding one of the strangest bikes on the tour (but probably the perfect choice) in a questionable off-yellow colour, he also sported one of the most epic beards of the trip (which seemingly did nothing to slow him down).

Windbreaker
WIth an enviable chest span, riding in a paceline with rider made life much easier.

Powerhouse
One of the shortest riders, riding one of the heaviest bikes and also damn quick!

Mr. & Mrs. Organised
Possibly the best prepared two riders and the most harmonious couple on the trip. Always helpful and quick too.

Mountain Biker
Another Brit and a superb technical cyclist, riding a Stumpjumper.

Mr. Motivation
Using the Tour to train for an even more ridiculous cycling event, he would often ride double the daily distance by reaching camp, turning around and continuing.

Business Class
Business class were a group of middle aged riders who have a taste for the finer things in life. They were suspected many a time of having more lockers than the mandatory standard allocation.

Younglings
(All riders younger than me.)

The Promise
At this stage in his journey, he was a hardened traveller and was always happy to share his expertise. A fast rider on a heavy bike, he struggled to race consistently but eventually got his stage victory. Superb photographer too.

Jack Of Many Trades
An entrepeneurial rider(?) who took to hitchhiking each day in lieu of riding, he found several innovative ways to make a bit of extra money.

Smiley
Possibly the most optimistic rider ever, never once seen without a smile on her face.

North Americans
Loud Cannuck
Stereotypical loud American and for a lot of the early part of the trip, the voice that would resonate through my thin tent walls and wake me up early in the morning.

The Former Army Engineer
Also a loud Canadian.

Vegan Dan
The only vegan rider and possibly one of the most dedicated riders, regularly rolling into camp late into the day. Always breaking spokes.

The Bike Messenger
A New York City bike messenger with a taste for punk rock. Owner of the infamous beard hat.

Artist
The designer of my tattoo and an unbelievable sketch artist, this guy tracked a package for half the trip only not to receive it.

Twentysomethings
Ms. Marathon
Holding a world record for running marathons, she was one of two riders crazy enough to run on rest days (as if the cycling wasn't exercise enough).

Livestrong
Passing out yellow Livestrong wristbands across Africa, a first time cyclist with the coolest green rims on the tour.

Token Irish Guy
Sporting cycling lycra of questionable modesty, a first time cyclist.

German
Ruthlessly efficient and one of the few riders with both matching and colour coded duffle bags.

Sunny Tea Plantation

2010-07-19T06:04:36Z

In Eldoret, Kenya.

Ice Cream, Pizza & Graffiti

2010-07-14T11:05:09Z

I'm a bit worried that I'm in the wrong place - this is supposed to be the gate for the British Airways flight from Bologna to London Gatewick but there is no one else here. The Aerobus broke down on the way to airport and there were some amusing acts of Italian rage as fellow passengers saw the next Aerobus drive straight past us. Arriving at the airport, I rushed to the very busy checkin counter and managed to bypass the queue because I had checked in online. When going through security, lady looked at my boarding pass and said 'London this way, directing me to an empty queue - the only empty queue out of many full queues.

The only difference appeared to be the addition of an explosives scanner which, predictably, found nothing. Wandering around duty free, I struggled to find any genuine Italian coffee to gift my mother - a lifelong coffee addict (and hence coffee snob). Whether this Segafredo brand raw coffee from Costa Rica will be up to her taste, I am not sure. Quite whether it will even work in her fancy coffee machine is another matter.

My brief visit to Bologna was spurred by both growing boredom and restlessness at home (four years of summer jobs have rendered my ability to enjoy largely vacant periods of time null) and a desire to meet up with a TDA rider who I became good friends with before he unfortunately crashed out of the Tour on our second day in Ethiopia.

This was my second visit to Italy - my first being a school trip to the Lake Guardia region. Bologna is considerably older than much of what I recall of the last trip and I enjoyed the architecture. A student filled city, there was graffiti covering a lot of the area. While the vast majority of this was crass and unimaginative, there were some witty legitimate attempts at making a pictorial statement.

The city itself varies from being clean to dirty (although any traveller who has visited India will rejoice at the cleanliness). Walking the covered arcades that line the streets is fraught with danger from weaving cyclists. I was amused to see a girl on a bicycle trying to navigate a narrow gap between a row of tables and a shop front while eating a gelato with one hand and steering cum balancing with the other. Another danger is produced by the city's large dog populations and their careless owners - you can be as diligent as possible but will still dirty your shoes.

Moving onto more gastronomical and delicious matters, most people of the world are familiar with Italian food. Whatever you thought was good Italian food outside of Italy is easily matched by the cheapest street level pizzeria and for a meager �3, a margharita worth of happiness can be yours. Pasta is similarly wonderful although Vegetarians should be sure to question their assumptions when ordering about what most filled pasta actually contains.

The gelato is also a favourite of mine and, in the baking summer temperatures nearing 40° C, was the perfect treat (to be offset by about 12 hours of heavy cardio-although I wondered how all the patrons of
the parlour were so skinny). A final mention of the food, my host was insistent that I try the coffee. Apparently it is in another league to what is normally served as an espresso. Indeed it is that jolt of caffeine which is fuelling this literary burst and I can confirm that while most coffee irks me tremendously, this was at least drinkable (with a reasonable addition of sugar). The accompanying 'pasta', known to English speakers as a pastry, was much more palatable - imagine a croissant filled with Nutella in one half and custard on the other.

As a tourist, there is a fair amount to see. We followed one of the excellently presented walking tours courtesy of Tourist Information. The museum of modern art (mambo) was quite interesting, as were several churches. Most museums are usually free to visit but you may need to pay for special
exhibitions.

On Saturday evening, we saw an Italian-subtitled American movie in a giant open air cinema in the main piazza of the city. While the movie itself (a 35 year old film called Nashville) seemed to lack a story line, the atmosphere was quite amazing - the piazza was packed full of thousands of people. Confused by the movie's lack of plot and aching from the brittle and unsympathetic chairs, we left early. Hopefully Google will be able to help us figure out the true intent of the movie.

On Sunday we took a state bus on a whim and travelled some distance out of the city to experience the rolling countryside hills. My host, a big road cyclist, related his stories of climbing the hills at just over 6kmph. He is a superb climber too so I imagine that I would most likely be walking.

That evening we watched the first half of the World Cup final in a packed Irish pub just off the main piazza. An overwhelming bias towards the Spanish side was obvious, for reasons I am unaware of. This was the first football match my host was watching and as he tried to work out the offside rule, he was quite amused at the ridiculous showboating of the world class soccer players. After play paused for half time, we went home to rehydrate ourselves via the local gelateria.

Despite trying our hardest to stream the football via the neighbour's wireless connection, we failed and thus I can maintain my achievement of not having watched the entire of a single world cup 2010 match.
Once I land back home, I will thankfully be reconnected to the world (my new mobile phone contract was annoyingly not enabled for roaming, leading to an interesting experience trying to contact my friend on arrival by first trying and failing to use a public payphone and then asking strangers nearby to use their mobile phones).

(The above post was written entirely on a touch screen keyboard. Intense.)

Shuttered Windows

2010-07-11T15:11:52Z