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On the Ferry to Sudan
Today I am just another traveler in an African country. In my opinion, today was a very significant day for all those participating in the TDA for the first time.
Itâ€™s 22h15 and I find myself on the deck of a ferry, traveling from Aswan to Wadi Halfa. My therm-a-rest lies beneath me and I am nestled in my sleepingbag. The space on my left is occupied by a rather large Egyptian, who provides a rather excellent windbreak; next to him is a row of 72 bicycles strewn amid a rather strange cargo.
The full moon is shrouded by clouds, but still throws sufficient light to see across the deck. I feel very insignificant today and it feels great to be here staring up at the sky. The inevitable questions one feels when feeling insignificant float to the surface: Who am I? What am I doing? and Where am I going? The first two are currently easy to answer, I am the tour doctor and I am heading home to Cape Town. The stark reality is that occurs in a short four months.
Weâ€™ve been cycling for only ten days and so far Egypt has been easy. Today, watching the loading of the ferry, we are exposed to the organized chaos of Africa I had expected, but had not yet seen. I still canâ€™t believe it!
For those of us on the top deck, we realized that when you take away the creature comforts of life, you appreciate the small things: like the warmth of your sleeping bag, a beautiful shrouded sky, or, in my case, the Egyptian wind block on my left.
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