We find that by this time it doesn’t take much to get us thinking of our homeland. The homesickness has definitely engraved a spot in our hearts. We daydream of the cool fresh Canadian air and of playing in the soft, white, fluffy snow. These thoughts tend to give us a little extra momentum when it seems as though we’re stuck in slow motion.

There is however another side effect to these thoughts. One that has only hit us hard once so far. The urge to stop the travel and fly back to a normal life. It does take some will power to get past this point. We think that’s a big reason why it’s so rare to find people traveling for more than a year or two at a time. So why are we doing it? We believe we are here to construct a life that we will be content with on our death bed. For us it includes an appreciation for all things and a worldly understanding that can only be achieved by an adventure of epic proportions.

We are not entirely selfish in this endeavor however it may seem. In order to ensure that we as humans have a future we must be able to understand each other. Without understanding there is space for resentment and fear. Both of which lead to hate. People cannot work together if fear is blinding them. Most people we discuss culture with have preconceptions about the ones they know very little about. It is in the hands of the knowledgeable and experienced to educate people and pass on a greater understanding to future generations.

As we watch the Spanish coastline disappear behind us we can’t help but think about what lies in store for us in Africa.  Our minds are filled with images portrayed in the media but also questions as to the true nature of Africa.  Will we encounter corruption, disease or violence?  What about fairness, well-being and harmony?  We know that in order to gain an understanding of the African people we’ll need to communicate with them.  We have confidence in our ability to communicate with people but will we be able to share in their stories as well as ours?  Will we make a horrible faux pas and be boiled in a cannibal’s cauldron of human soup?  We realize that it’s impossible for us to have complete confidence going into a territory that is so unknown to us.  This uncertainty creates anxiety and warms our skin with anticipation.  Excitement is really the only word for it and adventure is what lies ahead.

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Freshly showered and wearing my last clean scraps of clothing, I walk into the chill-out room at the home of our host in Addis Ababa.  Several friendly faces turn, and after meeting everyone, I sit down amidst matresses and pillows.  The one woman in the room besides myself puffs on her sheesha, decides it is time for fresh tobacco and sets about the process of cleaning and reloading the water pipe.  I notice several bottles of coke and water as well as a few bundles of leaves which the company is slowly consuming.  Our host passes me one such bundle, too big to fit both my hands around it and says, "start chewing."  This is chat, an integral part of the Ethiopian way of life and an ideal way to see the social side of Addis.  It is a mild narcotic and not only legal, but sold everywhere in Ethiopia. 

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We rode Franky from Dakar, Senegal to Cape Coast, Ghana.  The road was long and took us through some of our most trying times yet.  It was the first time we had thoughts of giving up travel and returning to Canada and to a more stable lifestyle.  The most difficult thing we faced was the heat.  Fifty degrees of blistering sun from above, reflecting off the road beneath us and a breeze that felt like it was coming from a tiger torch. 

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Beep beep beep.  We hear the alarm and wake up in the darkness.  We love this time.  It is the coolest part of the day and we feel able to eat and begin riding.  It's still dark but we hear people walking through the dry bracken as we pack up the tent and prepare to eat breakfast.  A man rides through on a very squeaky bicycle and we smile and wave as he passes.  We wash our peanut butter and banana jam sandwiches down with an instant cafe au lait made from nescafe and powdered milk.  The mangoes we bought yesterday are perfectly ripe and taste a little like pineapples.  Mangoes are a regular in our diet and although we could just pick as many as we can handle right from the trees, we prefer to spend the few pennies and buy them from the locals.  After consulting the map and digesting for a bit, we push Franky to the road and ride.

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We have recently changed our mode of transportation again. We started out by walking for four months. After that we rode bicycles for two years and now we are riding on mopeds. It was very difficult to give up our beloved bikes but after seeing the map of the African continent and the size of the Sahara, we made our decision. We are not in an endurance race. We only want to experience what the world has to offer us. Morocco is the beginning of Africa for us and it has been very welcoming. We're now on the border of the Sahara. The adventure continues…
 

As you can probably guess by the title, we are no longer riding mopeds. After being stranded in the desert a couple times and getting fed up with hearing the sound of the motors all day, we decided to sell the mopeds. We thought about what would be the next mode of transport for us while we hitched our way down to Dakar, Senegal from Dakhla, Morocco. When we arrived we had discarded the ideas of bigger motors or horse carts. The plan was to build a comfortable machine that we could pedal together. We also wanted it to have the ability to carry enough food and water to get us through long distances. There were many different design possibilities some of which we attempted to build. In the end the parts available to us for the construction dictated the design. The Frankentrike or Franky-T as we call it was born on March 21st, the spring equinox. We are certain that we will have to deal with regular maintenance but we know now that pedalling is the best way for us to travel. We only hope that the inferior African bike parts will surprise us with their durability. Once again, the adventure continues…

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter. We hate waking up to the sound of rain pelting our home, a two and a half man tent decorated with graffiti and an alien waving the peace sign with both hands. This morning is going to be a slow one so we stretch out a little and discuss our plans for the day. When it rains in the morning like this we always take it slow in the hopes that the sun will come out before we pack up. It doesn't seem to be stopping so we make a dash out to answer nature's call and grab the breakfast that we bought last night. Yum, we love starting our day with yoghurt, muesli and a fresh banana. Well, there's no putting it off any longer so we pack up our stuff wet and strap it to the bikes. On the upside, we're not being attacked by millions of tiny insects like we were in Sweden.

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