400 + days and counting.

When we took our truck back to the manufacturers for some much-needed TLC in February 2023 after spending 2 years on the gruelling African roads, we never expected to be laid up for this long. Still, some cataclysmic errors on behalf of Mercedes meant we were delayed so.

The good news is we are on a countdown to returning to the road again and we can’t wait. (We are not sure of the final dates yet).

Our journey will take us east through Turkey and then a left turn through Georgia and Russia, Kazakhstan and around the Caspian Sea and on maybe to Mongolia before heading back to the Middle East if the political situation allows.

When we have final dates I will be back in touch and we hope to spend a few days near the manufacturer’s factory (Motorcraft Adventure Developments) preparing for our journey.

Our base will be The Scarborough Arms pub car-park in Tickhill, Doncaster and we would be delighted if you are local (or not) and would like to come and say hello.

We will be in touch with specific dates soon and in the meantime. A few memories of Africa as we wonder. Will the next leg be as breathtaking as Africa?

I hope you will continue to read our blog.

David

We didn’t have 1.25 million dollars in cash strangely?

I’m not sure where we were when we heard the news. Ethiopia had imposed a 500% tax on any foreign vehicle entering the country. The money was to be paid in Cash (American dollars) at the border and they vowed you would get it back when you leave the country but this is Africa and that just wouldn’t happen. And anyway, we didn’t have 1.25m Dollars hanging around strangely?

Our route home to avoid the political conflicts and the lack of roads in some countries.

And so with Ethiopia effectively closed, our options were to ship to the middle east or a drive from Kenya, west to Angola and then north through a whole load of countries to get back to Europe and then to the middle east. Just a mere 16000km (10,000 miles) detour to Europe and then the drive to the middle east but hay, we like a challenge.

An early start for us as we pass a village is just coming to life.

Leaving Kenya was easy. Good roads (ish) and easy travelling. Smiling people, good food and so all was good with the world.

From Kenya and on to Zambia, the roads took a decided turn for the worse but still, we pressed on. Bits started falling off the truck due to the roads but we kept going.

We were never short of inquisitive visitors and these guys gave us the thumbs up.

Zambia turned into Namibia and the Caprivi strip. We saw Elephant again and that’s always positive despite the roads and the detreating state of our truck.

The Caprivi strip turned into Angola and we headed westerly to Luanda the capital to start the fun and games of getting our visas for the difficult western African countries.

Hawkers selling their wares to a passing coach. A common sight throughout Africa.

The Nigerian Embassy rejected our paperwork 3 times with the final excuse our internationally recognised passport photographs were too small and we needed larger ones.

The Congo’s embassy told us we couldn’t have visas as they had run out of stickers for our passports and we had to drive around 1000km to the next Congo embassy to fulfil our visas. Luckily it was on our way north.

Is someone else on a journey?

We drove 12-hour days with only a short break for lunch to try and get back to Europe so we could continue with our journey, our life in the Middle East.

The days were tough and the truck continued to take a battering by the roads.

Believe me, this was a good road

Roads in the Congo during the rainy season.

It appeared as though at every border crossing, the officials were out to catch us out for something.

Checking and double-checking papers, finding faults and trying to delay us by whatever means.

The roads took their toll and when we stopped for a bush repair a dad and his 7 apprentices (his sons) take a look.

At the Ivory coast border to Guinea Conakry, we had a laissez-passer (letter to pass issued by the Ivory coast Embassy) that said we could pass at ANY border crossing. The head of immigration wouldn’t let us pass as the LP didn’t state this particular border crossing. We eventually persuaded him to let us pass.

Just an average road in West Africa

Nothing to add really

It went on and on, including having our truck papers stolen by a Cop who said we couldn’t have them back unless we paid a bribe. We sat it out and 3 hours later he threw our papers back at us.

The bent cop stole our papers and demanded a bribe.

At least he has some Tarmac

The bus that hit us. The cops just waved us on. I knew well enough not to even ask about compensation for the damage they caused us.

I even had my foot run over by a car in The Congo (no broken bones thankfully).

All the above pail into insignificance though compared with 3 incidents that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Driving through The Congo (after my foot incident), we were in the rainy season and the roads were almost non-existent and flooded with one stretch of over 300m long completely flooded meaning we had to drive through this soup of mud and water not knowing what lay below the surface of the water.

Normally I would walk such areas with a pole prodding my way looking for holes or rocks before entering with the truck but the weather and the water condition made that impossible. We made it but drove at a pace slower than walking pace and the truck threw us all over the place as we entered unseen potholes.

Always big smiles in Africa from those that have the least.

The next challenge was the road between Cameroon and Nigeria. A mountain pass, a single track meaning no overtaking should we encounter an oncoming vehicle. If we had met anyone, goodness knows?

With sheer drops on both sides and narrow paths, we were so scared but had no alternative other than to carry on. We drove deep into the night as there was nowhere to pull over to sleep and driving in those conditions in the dark was petrifying. I just wanted to stop and weep it was so bad. At one stage with a sharp turn and a huge bolder on one side and a sheer drop on the other, I drove the truck into the bolder to give us a chance of getting around the corner without sliding down the side of the mountain.

We have no photographs of the mountain passes. We didn't think to take any but this was at the start.

It was a mere 350km/220 miles from the start of the ordeal to the end but it took us 7 days to complete driving 12 hours a day.

It was brutal.

The last incident occurred in Nigeria.

A local road diversion sent us through a residential area with atrocious roads (are you getting the common denominator)?

Again, our assailants didn't seem keen on posting pictures, so a gritty street picture from Nigeria.

So, driving at a walking pace we were surrounded by a gang of youths who brought the truck to a stop and demanded money. When we refused, they got aggressive with one guy jumping onto the step up to the cab and trying to break the window to get into the cab. They were hyped and I suspect under the influence of some substance.

Scared out of our wits, Charlotte acted quickly and handed me a can of Pepper spray we had bought in South Africa for such incidents.

I lowered the window enough to discharge the spray on the gang member. That was enough to make him fall off the truck, and we escaped in the ensuing chaos.

Local women going about their business in Benin I think?

Life got easier thereafter but one more incident when a pack of dogs chased our truck with each dog eventually falling away apart from one poor guy who chased us for quite a while before he and we realised he had entered the territory of a rival dog gang and he was attacked by his rivals. I was able to deploy the pepper spray for a second time on the dog pack and the little fellow escaped but looked more like a strawberry as he whimpered his way back home at least he was alive and the pack where for ripping him apart.

And so eventually we covered the 16000km and the sight of the Mediterranean sea was in our nostrils and we were safe.

Vowing to never return to Africa, we took the ferry to Spain and then drove back the repairs done, including to the UK to get a twisted Chassis.

A Cracking Fish lunch in Morocco. We had started to relax by this time

Now we are recuperating in Southern Spain before we head off towards the Middle East and were already talking about our return trip to Africa.

We spent 3 months getting to Morocco from Kenya. We had weeks on end of not seeing another white person.

We were scared senseless and just wanted it to be over but we now know, Africa gets under your skin, in your hair, under your fingernails but mostly, Africa gets in your heart.

Africa is the ultimate Hotel California; we can't wait to return someday and do it all again.

Street life and Desert life - Mauritania.

A cow handler hangs above his cargo of cattle being transported by lorry.

A stilted village in Cotonou, Benin.

Village life as we viewed it passing by, day on day.

Wash day at the water's edge.

Local taxis prepare for another journey

A stop in town to buy provisions

Drying the grain ready for milling

Market day in Guinea (unknown town).

A blowy beach where we took refuge for the new year in Lome, Togo.

This is a local shop for local people- You have to be a certain age.

A Voodoo priest in Cotonou, Benin makes us welcome with his home brew.

As an aside, his son, a Rastafarian introduced himself and insisted on being called 'blackey'

Voodoo artefacts at the Voodoo market, Cotonou, Benin.

Cattle and Goats!

No space wasted. Cattle top and bottom

When you have nothing, a swanky vehicle with two whites is always going to get attention.

A street vendor offers us a free sugary drink. We politely declined.

Bread for sale

It's been a while since the last one...

As we headed for Uganda, all I could remember about Uganda was the rule of Idi Amin. Can you believe that was from 1971 to 1979?

For anyone who doesn’t remember him, he was considered one of the most brutal dictators of his time and allegedly killed and tortured around 300,000 people for being part of Ethnic groups. He was a total dictator who committed some unspeakable atrocities on his people.

A misty morning looking onto a green valley in Uganda.

Tea plantations cover vast areas of Uganda.

What a terrible way to remember a country but once we entered, it was a different story. It was mountains, lush and green although the poverty throughout Africa remained evident and when we stopped in the first town we came to so we could buy SIM cards, I witnessed a group of kids hurriedly collecting Chicken food that a shopkeeper throughout to feed his Chickens. The kids scrambled hurriedly to fill their pockets. What a terrible sight.

From seeing this I bought 5 loaves of bread for these kids who giggled with delight at the offering they had been gifted, but within less than 1 minute, I was surrounded by a group of 20 or 30 kids all begging for bread. A terrible dilemma then ensued.

Street kids picked up the Chicken feed to eat.

Barefooted and dressed in rags.

Hunger is not the only issue and HIV is still a big killer for the country when it was first discovered, the Government told the people that HIV was a western disease and that if they washed after sex, it was enough to stop it from having any effect. A position it has since corrected.

Ebola was just starting up again when we visited and we were careful not to make any physical contact with anyone!

Without a doubt, though, Uganda has a lot to offer with beautiful scenery, undulating hills, Tea plantations and beautiful sunsets, but, the jewel in its crown. The Mountain Gorillas.

To see the Gorillas you have to do a hike through the Mountains (no surprise there then) and the day we went we spent 7 hours trekking the mountains and were rewarded with an hour spent watching these creatures in very close proximity.

Just hanging with dad whilst he has a nap.

They were completely oblivious to our presence and just carried on eating and moving around and one even pushed one of the rangers out of the way to get passed him.

We were briefed that we would be allowed one hour with the Gorilla family and that we must not eat or drink during the visit and face masks must be worn at all times to protect their health (you were that close).

A Dutch lady who made up the other couple in our group decided to take a sip of water and was reprimanded for removing her mask.

The experience was amazing and the memories I will never forget nor the cost. We paid directly at the office before heading out but many book packages including transfers and hotels.

We paid $700.00 each for the privilege whilst we heard stories of packages costing up to $2000 each!

The experience also took its toll on Charlotte, who after 7 hours of mountain trekking through rainforest and mountains that was something like you see in a movie and exceptionally tough going and at altitude as well so when we reached the road eventually and our pick-up bus, Charlotte collapsed through shear exhaustion but well worth it she later said. There are no Mountain Gorillas anywhere in the world in Captivity and that made it very special indeed.

Next up was Rwanda, Burundi and then Tanzania.

The capital of Rwanda, Kigali is not as we expected and is a beautiful city with manicured lawns, great restaurants and bars and a huge ex-pat contingent. A place I would consider living and I mean that.

Well-stocked shelves in an up-market Delicatessen in Kigali - the Capital of Rwanda.

Beautifully manicured gardens are everywhere in the city.

Even the curb stones look good

Orderly and clean. Is this Africa?

It has to be said that we drifted through Rwanda and Burundi quickly as we had our hearts set on reaching Tanzania.

Tanzania held special meaning to Charlotte and me as we had sponsored a young man through University some years ago whom we met whilst backpacking there.

The must-do photo of Phillipo and I

We had been to the main sites in Tanzania and then literally put a pin on the map to decide where next and took public transport to a small town called Ifakara, a town that we know to be Phillopo’s home town. The young man we now know as Phillipo.

Family and friends

We met Philippo by chance in Ifakara town as we were hiring a couple of bikes to have a look around the place and bikes seemed a good option. He offered to show us his town and his home where he lived with his Grandma. Philippo explained that he split his time between looking after his family whilst trying to finish his University degree. He was struggling as money was tight and he thought he would have to forfeit his education to look after his family and tend the small plot of land the family used to survive on. The rest is history as they say.

Philippo has stayed in touch ever since and we promised we would go back one day to meet him and that's exactly what we did.

Phillipo is in his suit. Not many Africans wear a suit in their home town.

Then and now with Phillipo and Grandma. We haven't changed at all ???

Philippo, is now a grown man and has a daughter and is marrying his partner, Angel, he has a job and a micro business selling clothes on a market stall and when business is slow, he takes to his bike and cycles hundreds of Kilometres to outlying villages to sell his clothes.

After all these years, what a great treat to meet him and his family again and I'm sure we will remain friends for a long time.

The family come to inspect the truck.

Grandma looking after a youngster.

The last time we went his Grandmother was sitting peeling onions outside her house and now, 15 years on, we meet her doing the same.

Life is very special sometimes. What an opportunity we had.

We planned to spend more time with Philippo, but our friend, Henrietta contacted us to tell us she had Malaria and needed to get to Kenya as she had to go home for a few weeks and had booked a flight out of Mombasa back to Denmark, her home. She told us she couldn't ride her Motorcycle as she didn't have the strength and so we diverted and headed for Dodoma, the capital of Tanzania to help out.

By the time we arrived, Henrietta was out of the hospital but still very weak and so we hatched a plan. Henrietta rode in our cab and I rode her motorcycle towards Mombassa. It worked a treat and after a few days, she was able to ride her bike again.

Henrietta before she, unfortunately, contracted Malaria - Check her out at For the love of wheels.

Charlotte and I then headed east towards Lamu island, a small island off the coast of Kenya and very beautiful apart from to get there we were very close to the Somalian border and security was tight and many roadblocks were set up by the Army and police all wielding guns and many with there faces covered for their protection.

We didn't stay long but the level of security was nothing against what was to come later in our trip.

We also encountered water poverty on a grand scale with people begging for water at the side of the roads. As we only have a limited supply, we weren’t able to help so much but it was shocking truth. Another face of Africa that isn’t often reported on.

Another glimpse at what poverty means.

A few random shots of Rwanda, Burundi, Tanzania and Kenya.

Street vendors selling to us through our widow.

Kenya, near the Somalia border.

Superb craftsmanship

Donkeys are used widely for transport and for pulling carts

Does my bum look big in this?

A busy shop displaying a selection of goods

Pineapples growing ready for harvest.

A group of Maasai. A common site in East Africa.