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.

It’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.

We’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 can’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.