Everything has an end only the sausage two. May the dat - dat is allowed!
Au weia had to first make a few witty sayings from the stack, before I can start. So, how are you watching? What were the last days? Exciting!
plays very briefly at a glance:
Thursday (16.9.): In the afternoon there's the OK from Chris. Finally the bike is finished. Det kuppeld wieda! Wonderful. Excited as I Bolle saddle my bike, yet organized cash and fuel at Nakumatt and buzz - I'm away from Nairobi. My goal isses to be up Friday afternoon in Moyale on the border with Ethiopia. I'm progressing well, the clutch feels pretty strange at first, but she runs. I must first rebuild confidence in my bike. At about 1915Uhr I'm in Isiolo, 280 kilometers from Nairobi. Super, which has gefunzt well. I decide, sleep about 30 kilometers further in Archers Post, still trying to Felix from the Jungle Junction a recommended address to locate, but this does not work. So I land on the advice of the locals in the beautiful sundowner hotel (in the beginning I've always just "Santana" and I've understood, therefore, on nice guitar sounds happy, but okay, that works with the understanding not still so perfectly). Ok, the hotel was crappy and I've slept less than good.
Friday (17.9.) Pretty tense, this afternoon, running from my stupid Ethiopia visa. The Night was mediocre. Could Pennekaums because it was still very loud for ages at my door. Well, damn. Definitely come on time going from Archers Post, at around 0630Uhr I sit on the bike and heading towards the north. Things are going well, after about 90 kilometers I have the tar road behind me and drive the beautiful Dirt Road. After another 40 kilometers, I'm in Laisamis and make ne short rest. Was very funny, because I and people I had a few weeks ago (when my nightly journey from Lake Turkana coming) taken again see. Even the "Mama", where I had stayed in the Lake Turkana Loyongalani, happened right here. She had visited her daughter in Nairobi and was just passing through. Well, I spend a nice stay and go about half-past eight, continue towards Marsabit. After just 30 kilometers then the shock. There's tremendous surprise to me. And it also attenuates not really. I stop and realize that the shock absorber in the central strut "leaks". It runs from liquid, the thing seems to be in the ass. What to do? First drive on. I realize that I can just take a somewhat slower and more cautiously, of course, but I was progressing. After twenty miles to get to a village. I decide that I'm looking for a mechanic to help me with the shock. But there's no one in the village. They refer me to a Steve in Marsabit. Wow, that is still nearly 50 kilometers. But what the heck. What needs to be that way. I need about 12 clock until I arrive at this lumber road in Marsabit. Shortly before Marsabit I still have a drop, especially with my 'clutch saving "procedure, the cause is. I jerky - untertourig - up the hill, following which might sink my machine (yes I let off the clutch as much as possible the finger). Well, and if one stops abruptly and it has a certain slope, then there's no stopping and it tilts to the side ... After a stop anna gas station in Marsabit, I inquire about Steve, and a local took me to his workshop. There, I meet Sam. Sam is the (identical) twin brother of Steve. He tells me that Steve just in Laisamis (!) And has also seen me there. But Sam is also mechanic - and what a! The tip with the workshop Sam / Steve was absolutely worth it. It's really unbelievable what this Sam the next eight (sic) hours since frickelt around in his workshop. I trust him from the beginning, wait, wait, wait. I spend most of their time to the workshop in the shade of a few shops where I am held by a large number of children at a trot. Of sleep or rest is impossible. Sam is sure that he used my shock hinbekommt again, so I stay patient. During the afternoon, but realized that I no longer get on, and certainly not to Moyale. I would have to spend a night in Marsabit, would forfeit my visa for Ethiopia and I could only go to the border on Saturday ... With great skill, and using all his art, it actually gets Sam out to repair the shock absorber. He hammers around for hours, carved with a razor and was sitting at the end of the day (it is now almost nine clock) I turn on a bike with a working shock absorbers. Sam I pay exorbitantly for African conditions. But I know he's a good guy and I'm pretty sure that its solution will bring me up to Moyale. He arbeitetet "passing" as a religion teacher from the local Primary School. Real a cool guy, madness. The hotel, which he recommends to me, is unfortunately not the charm. The Jey Jey is again such a local dump and I was wondering if I could sleep here at all. I turn the bike in the yard and hope that I am here again next week get out safely ...
Saturday (18.9.): The date of the decision. I have a little nap and am back on time on the mat. I have breakfast at the hotel and slightly adjust the Expiry Date of Ethiopia visa at (I change September to November), SEP-> NOV, so "have" I am now a 3-month visa. The "forgery" is not very carefully and each provides that there rumgekritzelt someone. But, well, that's my plan for the border ... Sun at half past six I want to go, but again get a call from Sam. He thinks I should again come to the workshop because he still is what occurred. Once there, he secured with a meter-long rubber traps the arm to the frame so as to relieve the shock somewhat. I'm not sure if the lot would help, but I am still grateful, and make me at seven on the runway. 246 km to Moyale. I'll even create loose times. Sam tells me yet, that are the first 50 kilometers to Marsabit most difficult. Well, nice isse not the route. Pretty rocky. After 30 kilometers I have again a Fall-Downs in the scree, puh. But it is running slowly feeds the squirrels. I reel off the miles. Two breaks I make (only). A then after my drop, the second in Sololo, about 80 kilometers from Moyale. The closer I can get to Moyale, the more excited I become. These are now the last kilometer dirt road in Africa? If I leave at last Kenya? Ui, ui, ui. By almost half past four isses then so far, I'm anna in Moyale border. Juchei. Directly back to the border. For Kenya, I get me an exit stamp in the Carnet de Passage. I'm going but not to the Immigration Office, because I'm afraid that the only times a fanfare to make my long expired transit visa (since 12.8. I am yes in fact "illegal" in Kenya, I finger worse). So over to Ethiopia. The guys there I indicate that I should hurry up, the Immigration Office in closing two minutes. Holy shit, those are working hours that make here at five. Oh, so let's get out. Aden, an immigration type, make the office already closed up again and makes me clean. I give him my passport and he frowns. He seems to have a problem. He takes his boss (Haile) and advise for a while. Nagging, discussion. They like my visa does not surprise! We discuss around a while, I tell them my situation, but admit to not think I even adjusted the Expiry Date have. My statement is that the Embassy for the visa because of an error at first to 17 Dated September, but then to 17 By amending November. But it does nothing, the two do not go into this deal. I offer baksheesh, but also the benefit nothing. Haile (the boss) thinks I should turn around and drive back to Nairobi. Aden said that, I should come again on Monday in the office and then try again. Then the Cheffe was there, and maybe he could do something. Hmm, on Monday I wanted to be a long time ago in Sudan. I liked not at both. And I just have a thick neck on these two Kackbratzen, ass faces, full post. I do not drive back to Nairobi, and I'm also sure NOT to Monday in the Kacknest from Moyale to babble on again with such a full of idiots Immigration upper Checker. Okay, I'll take my card to my bike, climb, run, and drive off. But not back to the Kenyan side, but from Ethiopia. Hurrah! Härrlich! Beautiful here in Ethiopia. Whether this was a wise decision now? I tremble a bit. I feel like a black driver in the Berlin S-Bahn. A controller could be lurking anywhere. I concentrate and try to locate the possible removal of checkpoints. Each chicken or goat every now looks like a possible Part of a checkpoint system. Phew, that's unnerving. Shit, man, maybe this was now but a bit stupid with this "break-through action." After 10 kilometers it was far, Checkpoint! Ouch! I see that the geeks are just on the phone. You are speaking to Haile? Me indicate that I should wait. I wonder and think. Shit, dude! Now or never! She still does not appear to know what is going on and can be the first of Haile letters that they should spend on each case that German bastard. I make a short detour, leaving the paved road, drive around the barrier, waving around a lot more (along the lines of - I have not realized that I should wait) and type of rubber. Ui, ui, ui. Now I was pretty excited. Would you follow me? Do I have a chance to come through? Should I first get off the road and hide in the bush? But where and for how long? I think I'd be there anyway in my pants. Isses probably best to go further, perhaps it was now the einizge checkpoint from the border and I can now by rushing to Addis Ababa. With every mile that passed increased my safety. Finally, I was thirty, forty, fifty miles beyond the border and there were times when a barrier, then only as a "senseless" village-barrier, which was immediately allowed to download as soon as I approached me. I waved hard working and experienced love and nice Ethiopian side of the road. Just in front of small stone-throwing I was afraid. Of which I had heard many times before, and that would fail me now get to such a Klamotte in the face. Well thank you very much. Meanwhile, it was by 18h, and it dawned. Over 100 miles since I had traveled in the direction of Moyale Addis. Actually works now? Where would I stop, to Penn to? Yet I had not even Ethiopian coal. But the thoughts were abruptly stopped. In a place called Mega (understood I had maxima ...) was my trip over. Checkpoint number two, this time well prepared. Ca. 8 to 10 people expected me already. Armed colleagues. I speak briefly with the leaders about it, even as the first time to take a short detour. When I hear the clicking machine guns, I decide that I would rather let it remain. Shit, shit, shit. I'm in deep shit, mate! Now I've really but maneuvered into position in an extremely modest. I'm mad at myself What a full Depp! I realize that I desperately need times to the toilet. This seems to be a kind of Singal of my body that I am "trapped". Because that is how it feels. I am GE-cashed. You have captured me. Beautiful salad. I climb of the Motorbike from, and try my face to reveal No. 2: that of the diplomats. For what other than diplomacy, negotiation, discussion does not help anymore. I am weighing up my chances just how it could work for, perhaps to run away in the night with my Mopped, but was. it is a bad idea ... Well, the next three or four hours I'm busy talking, arguing, making phone calls and Nett & love. Unfortunately, my attempts at bribery failed miserably. You do not want my money. Nina and I contact my parents on my mobile phone. Nina establishes contact with the German Embassy in Addis Ababa (completely pointless, as was expected ...) and for "their Ethiopian friend." This is the lady from the embassy had in Vienna, which had issued Ninas Ethiopia visa and Nina helped so fine when booking flights. We had a few weeks amused wonder / about the awkwardness of Mrs. Habla, but today they turned out to be worth gold. Nina established contact, I called her, and Mrs. Habla knelt in really well for me. I was really touched by her commitment. She was just in vacation in Rome, but gave full power to get me here to fight in Ethiopia out of the shit. Astray. The problem was just that the guys here understand very little English and talked. Mrs. Habla could speak Amharic with the people and convince them that I am not Böss Jack and so on. She spoke several times with Mohammed (the Boss here at the checkpoint) and Haile (the full pastes, where I was not let in in Moyale and had then initiated the "search"). Just this Haile I would like to one really stupid in his face punched. I've still deciding if I think of his rare daft mug. The guy is just really the bottom spanked. Well, in principle, he had only "fear" that he would do something wrong, if he could clean me. The worst part is flat, if it is a mistake. Then make but rather have nothing. To say it was "not possible" to let me clean into the country, is of course nonsense. Everything is possible if you just want. "I can not" known to live in the "I do not want" - street ... I know I'm in this respect a little naive or stupid or whatever. But we are talking about please? Through a stupid piece of paper on a "permission" that I may pass through honorable Ethiopia within two days. Against good coal of course. I just do not want in my birdbrain, what should it be so problematic. Sure, you have the rules / regulations (particularly in foreign countries!) Note, but you know what? I shit on the rules / regulations, if I think that they are rubbish! Okay, I am also not interested in, six months before in an Ethiopian jail me to bum out. Therefore, I was now very cooperative ... Well, all the work on Saturday evening resulted in the fact that I am with the security people in Mega (except Mohammed, who remained reserved) more or less became friends. I showed them travel photos, alerted me to well it went with them and even had good food (this Ähtiopische bread with cabbage and sauce). They understood that I am not a criminal and said to me that everything would be okay. I had to spend the night in Mega and would then drive the next morning back to Moyale or be cut back. I was locked up, not directly, but was still detained. I managed to both passport and Motorcycle keys to keep with me. Mir's was about as much "freedom" as possible to preserve in this situation. Together with Mrs. Habla I tried Haile, who was in Moyale to convince them that they left behind me this evening to go to Moyale. But Haile insisted that I should be on Sunday morning, picked up from mega ... Okay, was not more of it today, sleep so here somehow, and then tomorrow go to the next round of "diplomacy in action". What a day! I have a fucking bad because I have, of course Nina (and my parents) are chasing a very beautiful terror. Now I am going to be held at a police checkpoint in this Kackland. I will but to go home, damn it. Here's neither electricity nor water. Shit I'm on an open field behind the slug, where I will spend the night on a (rancid) mattress. Oh man, dit makes no real sense yet everything, right? My wrongdoing is zero, but of course I know that my situation is precarious. But the cause of this precarious situation is something of weak-minded ... But okay, now I feel quite safe again, knowing that the people here at the checkpoint "okay". I ratze on my mattress in front of the slug, wake up at night, because it's now freezing cold, and then spend the rest of the night in the slug, which cover, fine!
Sunday (19.9.): Boy, what ne shit. I have not slept properly. The adrenaline was just not without. But okay, how's next? After a (tollen!) breakfast, I call on (with Mrs. Habla, Nina, Haile). Somehow we must make it, I go back independently to Moyale. I think it's been a great success! It seems familiar to me again with more. I thank the people who had entertained me, $ 5 will pay for the drinks that I had received and STEAM at nine, half past nine back to back from Mega Moyale. Phew, that's again got off lightly. I was reasonably certain that I do not have much to fear quilting adventure. In jail I would probably not come (of which I was the day before expected in principle). Worst case (ie very likely) I would be "expelled" and would return to Kenya to Nairobi. But who knows, Mrs. Habla did a great job so far, and maybe they would even reach that I can actually clean? Arriving in Moyale I log in the Immigration Office and put my 'Who f *** s will, must be friendly, "continued the offensive. I will tell all who will hear it not, that was all a big misunderstanding, and I totally exhausted on Saturday anyway and presence of mind and was not tired and so on and so on. Well, Mr. Haile had unfortunately been pushed a six-foot long stick inside ass and was the asshole in person. But anyway, every time ... thawed I met at the border crossing a number of other Traveler. With the two Dutchmen and René Loddar and the Lebanese-Australians Ziad, were three of the road, waiting for a load of tires (!) From Nairobi, I became friends and I spent a lot of time. On the afternoon advanced, I managed (with Rene's help) to elicit this nutty Haile the permission that I could spend the night in a hotel on the Ethiopian side. His boss (Schockli or something like that) should have been arranged that I should immediately return to Kenya, but he would have made an exception. The bike had to stay back at the Immigration Office. On Monday, I could then again to the Immigration Office and speak personally with Schockli regarding my visa issue. Okay, it was all much better than ever for another 24 hours before. I checked in flaunts Barena, the best hotel in town one, where the Dutch and Ziad slept. Okay, showers feed, sleep. There was much to do and I was really ready. Had the last night not just slept very great. And "a little" stressful / exhausting it was indeed been.
Monday (20.9.) The Plan for today was the effect that Mrs. Habla about the Ethiopian Embassy in Berlin and the Immigration Headquarters in Addis Ababa that last a permit for me given to be allowed to drive through the country and will communicate this authorization to Moyale (on Haile, Schockli or who ever). Well, the big shit in Ethiopia was in the first place that I had massive problems with the phone. I had no Ethiopian SIM (or the one I had received a few weeks ago by the French in Nairobi, was kindly PIN-protected, so useless), and the combination of German SIM, I used all the time, and
Ethiopian network "performed" not so unfortunately great. Callers trying to reach me, had to try it ten times until they got through. Turned the same shit. It is not easy to achieve something, especially since I was relying exclusively on's phone. Meanwhile, I had the Oberarschlock of the place Schockli (which is the phonetic version, no idea how the name is written) to get an audience and have janz diplomatic, friendly, even submissive explained (my standards), the situation with gimmicks (motivation of my travel, visa problems, Faulty Ethiopia visa, technical problems, delays, my insanity on Saturday, etc.). But Mr. Schockli had its (impact -?) Stock look to the stop in the ass and worked hard to bargain fiercely as possible. He granted me to stay up to today 1700Uhr on the Ethiopian side. If by then the OK from Addis (the headquarters), would that I could go on, otherwise I would definitely go back to Nairobi ... Thank you, you bum! Well, okay. At least, no jail and no mega-stress. Had everything much worse can. Pig had. Okay, the hours up 1700Uhr were exciting experience. I could barely reach someone. Mrs. Habla confirmed to me that they would be in contact with the relevant people. At the end was probably a Mr. Damtu "in the loop", have no idea if I understood correctly, and he actually the Foreign Minister of Ethiopia. Is so damn well, I have his number anyway, and I can indeed sometimes send a text message and tell you that I think this whole immigration crap for a single joke. Can it be but to stay. Well, be it as it is. The OK came from Addis Ababa, despite all efforts, no. Fuck, I had to last really hoping that maybe it would work after all. Mrs. Habla gave me some hope, but okay. 1700Uhr was over, irgendso a guy from Addis Schockli phoned and said NO. Maybe it was just Schocklis grandmother who called there, and he pretended that the call came from Addis. No idea, he wanted me and so the problem obviously to get rid of as quickly as possible. And to 1700Uhr I had my things (under supervision) to pack, could my Mopped loaded and was then "passed out" from Ethiopia. My beautiful bracelet I had bought the evening, and in large letters on the "ETHIOPIA - I LOVE YOU" was had, unfortunately, not achieved its intended effect and made no great impression on the decision makers. I had to get out. Bye, Ethiopia, it was really wonderful! Well, as a last straw, I had received from Mrs. Habla number of this Mr. Damtu. I could call him again to describe the situation, and perhaps he would intervene yet again ... Anyway, today filed for me. I had something full of the snout. I then went back to my Mopped by the border strip to the Kenyans got there briefly to Mohammed (the checker at the local Immigration Office) talked and agreed that I come back tomorrow morning. So: first look into the town and a hotel. But I was so empty, depressed, broke, I had little power, anything to get their act together. There was no gas station in sight, Zain-Credit's only 50 KSH portions, so I was doing an eternity with the charging of mobile phones. And when I finally got the credit it, no power was more in the battery. I could not communicate with Nina. Shit. The hotel search proved too difficult. The supposedly best hotel in town, the Medina, I could not find it easy and I just wanted to sit somewhere and make his eyes and wake up from this nightmare. I was hungry as hell, all day gefuttert nothing. In Ethiopia, I somehow had no appetite, I was there probably already tired enough of all the adrenaline ... Well, after a while I tried it then do it again to find this shitty Madina Hotel. In the dark, I arrived there. If this is the best hotel in town, then cows can fly. What a dump. (?) To drive while trying, in the courtyard of the hotel, I stay - after I had mastered the murderous ascent - hanging on the door and to fall. Kotz, I could puke! What a disaster! But that's not all. Opi A begins to lament the fact that I would have made his goal broke, which was of course nonsense. His goal, it was crappy compared to my bike (new scratches ...) excellent. I was really on the ground. Okay, checked into this shop, 600 Kenya shillings it cost, I give back to 1000 and get the change later. As always, there are a bunch of checkers that accompany me on every step. Especially a type of "care" is very intense for me. I press my phone in the hand with the job "Please Charge!". No problem is done. Next plan: take food. He shows me a "Restaurant" but except chicken and chapati's nothing in this place. Kotz! I have no more power. I want my cell phone, get it but for some unknown reason (yet) returned. Okay, I have to eat something. We walk a few hundred yards into the nearest restaurant. My excellent meal consists of cold, stale chips and four boiled eggs. Wonderful. But it's good, what to get between the teeth. We go back to the hotel and I will now return my phone. I'm getting really upset when I explained the type that he had given the receptionist to charge, but this had now disappeared. Au man, what an idiot. Now he is me even so the chains that I should leave him a little attention. I am so annoyed that I like to give him 100 KSH, so he finally disappears. But he kept annoying and there are only satisfied with 200 KSH. What a naughty asshole. And then I wait! Feels hours, until it returns Depp by a receptionist and I finally have my phone back. Oh man the way he explained to me that the "Checker" type from before with my 400 KSH change was cut off. There is not much coal, but I'm angry foul. Really angry! What a crappy day. Okay, I turn on the phone and immediately get a worried phone call from Nina, who has of course asked why I did not sign all the time. I do not have nearly the strength to tell her the situation. It is one of the (very few) moments where raises the question of meaning. What the hell am I doing here - the middle of nowhere? Okay, I'm through, so by how can be. Let's see if I can sleep in this fucking slug at all. I'm totally hooked, I do not know if I can really come down despite all the exhaustion and fatigue. The climax of the bloody day, then, is that I can do in my motherfucking booth no eye. I am located on the second floor of the hotel, had a window to the rear and out the window sits a guy, a poor madman, as I found out later that all night trumpeted in full volume any mindless, repetitive phrases are always out. I spin through soon. What's going on here? At the beginning I still think as a phone loudly in the next room, but no, the guy simply has a full-swatter and has just chosen me as his "victim". Oh shit. In principle, I can phrase his "All Kenyans - Stupid - All your mothers and fathers" share the most part - at least for today, but it is still annoying and unbelievable. I'm sorry for the guy, too, and I'm pretty pissed that you can vegetate such a sick people here just down the street in front of him rather than to help him somehow. I do not think the man is "incurable" , but here you do not care drum easy. Welcome to the third world! Oh man, I feel really crappy. All sorts of strange thoughts shoot through my head, and I have to be careful that I did not lose in any stupid racist or violent fantasies. I need a fucking break!
Tuesday (21.9.) What 'ne great night. When I wake up, I want only one thing: stupid to get out of this hotel. And that's not so easy. For I must first get my motorcycles out of the courtyard out. to come clean was difficult. But out? First I need to chill two square centimeters, contact the bike, and make the whole standing around gawping morons stupid boot no move to help me here. I can despair again. With a lot of sign language I manage to finally move to two people to help me when turning. After some tugging, pulling and lifting, I'm finally out of the shit and can go on. First, the Kenya immigration is on the agenda. I will try again to reach Mr. Damtu, but it does not work. I can not get through to him. At the local gas station I fill on fuel, of course, there's no lead-free, but the prices are steep, and I pay almost 30 € for a charge. In the shop next door, I will pay for about 200 Kenya shillings NEN tea, because the waitress is just stupid so that I do not even try to change my get back. I need to get out of here. In Kenya's immigration views nen then bright spot. It works quite well for once. When I explain my situation first, of course there's the usual. Frowning, whining, nagging, all very complicated. Ui, ui, ui and ei, ei, ei. And this is very difficult, how can you "help" only (sic). I have the feeling that the default behavior of a trained immigration officers is to be put to every fucking a stick in the ass and not roll your eyes. Mud pack, all together! put in a sack and kloppen properly on it. You can not you imagine how much I would make. Unbelievable useless how much lack of understanding / anger, perhaps even now I hate this, in my view entirely profession had. The have managed real and have driven ticket inspectors and flight attendants on my hate list of the top ... I turned at the beginning of the first to stomach. We talk via the Ethiopian visa. The very terminology that use these wankers can, fields grow pimples on my skin. The manual modification of the expiry dates they refer to as "cancellation". I think I need quite a while, until I can hear that word again without restriction. What the hell as a cancellation. Have ye not all, their whole post? Curb not be true, please! Now not only the same shit again in green! But somehow I have a good rapport with the two geeks here, and they really help me. Had to beg and not that long. Go to my suggestion, stamp the long transit from previous visa and give me a new Single Journey visa for a month. The transit visa, they should not have been extended (by which I had never asked) and they wanted to send my best to Nairobi's headquarters. There I had intended to get some trouble, except that I would continue as "illegal" by the country's need to travel ... Well, costing 20 Ois for the visa. Needless to say, There's no change. Because gennervt, impatient and am grateful to both, I press them a Fuffi in hand and say "Thank you, keep the rest." Actually, I meant to say "Fuck umidity, you stupid bum, I shit on the rest, I want to get away.". But jut, at least I had achieved in Moyale. I was once legal in Kenya! Juchuh! This could have been probably easier than with 1700 miles driving, but okay. God's ways are inscrutable. The carnet stamped and again (yes again now need NEN entry), but no problem. At the border post I meet a group of sympathetic British, who are traveling in two Land Cruiser. Turn before me, but we do and a would-bye, because we are determined to Nairobi to see again ... At the border I say goodbye by Loddar, Rene and Ziad. Real a fun group, especially Ziad and Rene are to me real nice. We wish each other good luck and, Ziad various numbers I store in my phone, and at 12am (erst!) we go from Moyale. For the way-Moyale Marsabit on Saturday after all I had used just under eight hours, and I could not figure out myself already, I would surely not arrive in daylight in Marsabit. I got on the trip. Again, this crappy 785 km back to Nairobi. I certainly was not back in euphoric Constitution during the tour. But not necessarily because of the track. On the contrary, to me it felt good to be back back on the road, even if the road was exhausting. The route Moyale-Isiolo and Nairobi in the quality of her certainly not as dramatic as for example the route to Lake Turkana. What is corrosive, the length and monotony. It takes a bit of stamina, and must then chug hour after hour, with 25, 30, sometimes even 40th .. Once I throw my little horse today in the gravel out of the saddle, at about 25, 30 in second gear. By definition, actually a crash, but once I accounted's generously as Fall-Downs ... In the last nest from Marsabit I make my only stop for Today, I was more than six hours on the bike. It was something meditative, but was also mighty tiring. Only about 50 miles to Marsabit, the worst part of the track and then I can go even in the dark. Voila. But no problem, on a beautiful nearly full moon, I still choppy the last few miles and arrive at eight in Marsabit. Today I want to sleep in any case within a reasonable bed. DEFINITELY! At the gas station in Marsabit I come with a few locals into the conversation and discuss them my plan to try to return in any case in the Marsabit Lodge. Not at all, as easy as it turns out. The lodge is in 'NEM Park, and since I'm not familiar with the Mopped pure. Normally, no people are allowed to 1800Uhr more pure, which is a pretty cool concept, if one has to rely on overnight guests ... Well, it takes everything and pulls down. After almost nerve-five minutes will finally be a land cruiser angedackelt and picks me. Together, we drive to the gate, where I turn my bike, take the luggage and traveling the country with the cruiser in the Park Lodge. The parking fee should I not pay a guy from the lodge shakes his head and I put up with me. I am done, tired, hungry, impatient. I will first wash his hands, which then feed, then in the Hela. And of course make a few phone calls. On the way to the lodge, we see first of a Porcupine hop "street", very funny, is I think a kind of porcupine or something. I've never seen before and was just cute as it is there gehoppelt in great haste on the runway rumble. Once in the lodge, then everything went fluffy. 6700 Kenya shillings for a night including breakfast and dinner. Not cheap, but okay. Compare $ 440 at the edge (sic) of Amboseli National Park ... I get a nice room overlooking a large area (see where I determined the next day, a few animals can), wash me and I get quite a nice dinner. Puh managed. Only with the phone's does not work out so well. Handy again all, no electricity, no credit, no power. Corrosive. Nevertheless, I manage somehow to communicate with Nina. I'm coming down a bit and sleep for the first time in days, again reasonably pleasant, of course, freshly showered in ;-)
Wednesday (22.9.): I slept well, after getting up close by, I see from my window, a family of Elephants trot. Also, some buffaloes as well as various Hufgetier be seen. Fine! Despite the good sleep I am far from fit. Still tired and sluggish. I have breakfast extensively organized a bissel rum can make calls but not because it is nowhere to raise more Zain credit. Stupid. I paid my bill and are almost a bit annoying, as my grades for the lodge the "Transport" yesterday once more extra 3000 Kenya shillings (30 €) will be invoiced. You think that would be the standard price when they pick up tourists from the airstrip and back Request by e would. I reject, however, give them as resolutely and finally 500 Kenya shillings. I respond at the moment quite irritated and annoyed when I have the feeling of being excluded as a Christmas goose. My relaxed attitude is just there, and put me in a pretty big portion of frustration ... The most after I am taken from the lodge to the gate. I pack my things on the bike, get dressed and is about to drive off when I disabled this Ranger full of last night opened now that I should still pay the $ 20 later parking fee. All the while he stands around so looks like a car, and as I sit Fertich and ready to departure by motorcycle, he suddenly wants the money. Since I'm almost a little bit out ticking. I tell him that I had paid the fee already and I'm going to Nairobi. And that he should leave me in peace beautiful. He pulls the key from the ignition and it runs in his office. Full Past! Which is so far interested and peaceful atmosphere there. Also one of the freaks of the gas station last night had tried to gate - all apparently in the hope that I find him to complete his mindless "Services" by "Reward" last night but still would. And he said I must pay the fee and should not "run away". Oh man, the guys here are probably the wrong recipient, but I am thirsty so much then, rooms just one of those freaks really a ... I'm most annoyed with myself, I'm just not positive vibes, wirlich not. And that's pretty stupid. I press the fools of rank 20 € in Kenya shillings in hand, get back any change, tell him that I do not need his shit receipt but only my motorbike keys and vapor. Fuck it! I have mine, so the guy just made his job, but anyway I can all this way just absolutely does not. I'm glad when I'm back on the track - alone, me and my bike. Only two of us ;-) The evening before I had noticed that the shock absorber makes more problems. Approximate running the same effect as on the way shortly before Marsabit. Nice shit. It dropped again from the shock. The rubber band that Sam had wrapped on the way drum was now gone. A portion of the tape I have caught in my rear brake recovered. Well what a beautiful salad! But okay, it must go now, too! Even a stop at Sam I would not insert now. The Huckelpiste between Isiolo and Moyale and again The return trip has been to himself. Through all the vibration is not only dangerous, auszukotzen the recently occupied breakfast again. The lashings are exposed to a maximum stress. My two straps, with which I had fixed the Kackwurst are both torn on this track here. They had quite a few ordeals behind them, but this was the first continuous and protracted Geruckel them the rest Okay, Marsabit, Laisamis 96 km, then Again 40 miles to the start of the paved road. Ca. 15 kilometers from Laisamis I meet the English with their two jeeps. First, they pass me, a few miles later, they stand on the roadside with NEM Puncture. The usual on this track ... Shock absorbers and tires go here Hopps like nothing ... I stop and make an unscheduled stop tilting. The group is very cool and I consider myself a bissel them. Ruthie is the oldest and apparently we chat, while the boys have to do the dirty work. Ha ha! They believe that they have already lost a day before the Dackgepäckträger Ruckelpiste. And all long for the start of the paved road brought. I am relatively sure we'll meet again before I reach the paved road. I expect for a two hours, until then, they should be done with the tire change, and (faster on this route) me with their Land Cruisers have been obtained. I spend most of their time on the track anyway, standing to the shock absorber to relieve a bit and be friendly. It's pretty warm today and I get a nice sunburn on the face, right on the edge of the visor along. Looks very beneficial! Well, in Laisamis I can not stop it but go through to the tar. I am a little faster than two hours and see the English (unfortunately) not find it. They wanted to stay in a camp in Namyuki, ie not to Nairobi. Who knows if we will drive us on the road again ... A few miles on the paved road I drive along, as I realize that I already almost the sun shield of the helmet flying. By Ruckelei on the Dirt Road had also adopted a screw. I know already (from Mali / Burkina), that is lasting, secure the sun shield with Gaffertape and on we go. In Archer's Post, I meet a German couple in their jeep, which I had already met at the border crossing at Moyale. Berlin! It does well in these difficult times. They have also lost a shock absorber on the line and do stay behind inna Lodge Isiolo. I wish you good luck and give rubber. I still have almost 300 miles from me, it's 1600Uhr, and it threatens (again) a night ride ... The ride on the paved road is not quite shock getting used to. Self small dents cause I untentwegt up and down swing, a bit like on a trampoline. Normally, only annoying, and no problem. Unless we go into a curve. There is an up and down remarkably resilient Bike uncool! Well, still building up. passing through Isiolo and Namyuki on Mount Kenya. Today I see this mountain with clouds not the first time in full bloom and just as usually. All right, get out his digital camera and snapped some photos piece. Just under six I'm still a nearly 140 kilometers from Nairobi, it dawns already powerful, and I'm hoping that I with the last spark of brightness, at least to the limits of Nairobi come, thus still creating about 100 kilometers. In I just think after so beautiful as I boards in a city one of these nasty bumps over there and see about it in the third or fourth. Plautz's all! Without shock that I did not shock survived so well. Something rattles huge and I must stop. At the Tanke see that the protection of the shock has resolved and the wheel. Also removed the part and even watched. Hmm, strange. The shock absorber damping provide now or even suspension. It appears that the spring is now a thing mitgekriegt. In any case, the cart auf'm ass is now hard as concrete. But I can go on. But good care, of course, for every pothole feels now, of course, like an earthquake. Not that more breaks, my boy! Okay, still 133 km to Nairobi, in the dark, no loss / suspension. Reasonable person would have been to insert a stop and stay overnight in nem camp at the track. But I wanted (why I do not know exactly) in any case, today night stay in Nairobi. And it went away a little. Nearly two and a half hours I should have been on the road until I arrived in Nairobi. First off to the Ngong Road Nakumatt Prestige. Cola, tipping, newspaper, buy chocolate. Zain charge. And in a pizza restaurant Family Size organized on the go. From the Jungle Junction, I knew that the rooms are fully booked and I had a maximum in the Dormitory can kip. Actually I wanted to search me another hotel in Nairobi, but I just had no power. I've loaded the pizza on the bike, am driven to the Jungle Junction and I enjoyed my pizza with the very Bipa and Boopa divided brothers and sisters. Oh man, what a strange feeling to be back here ... I have cut down first executed before the reception and had no desire to talk to people. I first had to come down. Dan, Felix and Barry then I've still seen and chatted briefly with them. I then decided to stay put's me on the couch in the common room. I had no desire to's Dorm. Perhaps a kind of defiance, no idea ....
Well, now I'm wieda in Nairobi, the place that seems to me to put on magic and from which I no longer get away with this service. Since then I have here on 9 August will have arrived, hardly nothing more. The story of the failed Continue to Ethiopia is of course the highlight. Maybe I should have said after the clutch damage: alridy, dit was it. Nu is the end. But I've just tried again with Ethiopia. Was not to be, unfortunately. I would like to have the route to Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt, Middle East, Turkey went home, but now the highest railway is to say, final.
has Funnily enough, the clutch on the last 1700 Kilometers kept formidable, made no bitch, now and then when starting something smelled, but I'm sure I would be with the part came home safely. But this chain of problems in the past few weeks I have just had thwarted plans. It started with the fact that in Nairobi no Ethiopian visas are issued and I had to reissue the part in Germany. The next thing was that I issued the message there is only a 1-month visa, instead of the standard visas with validity of 3 months. Then the clutch damage and dalliance in Chris' workshop with which I am come up to the expiration date of the visa. Then the problem with the shock in Marsabit, including if I had it anyway in time managed to 1700Uhr the border in Moyale. Well, and they are key should then have been well-Faux Pas, "correct" the visa itself. But would also work even more, if the Kackbratzen were in the Ethiopian immigration was a ticking cooler. Could, would, could. Nu is final. And I'm on the organizing, how do I get heem me as soon as possible. My favorite solution is to do the bike as cargo in NEN flyer and bring it to Europe. I fly there and then of course go the last mile with the bike yet to Vienna to Nina. Nina has since been researching a lot and I hope that as soon as possible find a solution. Perhaps it is even with the Turkish Airlines to Istanbul and from there in two days with the bike to Vienna ... Realistically, however, rather Zurich with Swiss. Well let's see what does it cost ... The alternative would be to leave the bike here in Nairobi (eg, Chris) and store it between to come back later to pick up. But honestly, without the bike back to Hasu? I would not for me, only as a last resort ...
Well, dat is like dat Lebbe Lebbe ebb is. Above all in Africa. Some things you just can not plan in advance. I would hang out here in Kenya six weeks, I would have never dreamed of. Funnily gave me the types of immigration in Moyale even the hint that I should always make sure that my papers were in order. That makes everything easier ... Joke biscuits! But okay, so corrosive it in the situation may be, these types of experiences are somehow to do so. Maybe not as extreme as currently in Ethiopia with armed soldiers at the checkpoint and so on, but yep, last week was hard, but for sure I will remember for a while it back. That's it I definitely want to go home and ick. Cool would be if it'll work still trying to make a few kilometers in Europe. return home with the frustration of the last few weeks, then not so nice. But go home I will in any case. It is really difficult to explain why you do things like that. Since it is in Mega, Ethiopia, is held by a group of soldiers because you are illegally in the country and "deep shit" sits - "Why am I doing this shit just" and one wonders. Is difficult to answer that question at this moment. But the joke is, there is a reason. And that's hard to describe, you just feel it. And even if I do not have great yearning to return back to Ethiopia in the near future, I know that it is not long until it sprouts again longing. This continent is kicking it! He is fantastic and equally big shit; dit holds potential for addiction, no question.
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