The Cuiva River with its swirling and bubbling mini rapids serenaded us to sleep despite the bitter cold that set in soon after dusk, and woke some of us up with its icy claws in the early hours before dawn. We were all up well before sunrise, each of us drawn to Alastair’s comforting fire as we darted around camp packing up,grabbing coffee, and gobbling down our oats, as has become our custom.
Every Tour has its low point, and the night of Day 21/early morning of Day 22 marked ours. The Isuzus’ search for the not-actually-lost Christopher the evening before had heightened anxiety in the support crew, and the very long trek, stretching a one-day uplift into an extended ordeal, forced us to confront a harsh reality: our itinerary needs drastic revision. This means missing Kalandula Falls, Pedras Negras, and the iconic Kwanza River, the namesake of Angola’s currency. To top it all off, Laurie’s back was increasingly causing him great discomfort and the bitter cold of the morning did not help morale.
Gary launched the drone to capture our campsite one last time. As it ascended, a breathtaking spectacle unfolded. The sparrows re-emerged from beneath the bridge, forming a mesmerising, circular swarm around the drone. It was as if the birds were putting on a show, a defiant celebration of life amidst the challenges we faced. We stood in awe, captivated by this extraordinary interaction between these wild birds and the machine.
The Cuiva River camp marked our first point of departure from a route that was first planned a year ago and has been refined in detail numerous times since. Instead of heading North West, we would now trek due west to Kuito, 110km away.
The plan was to ride all the way, but to send one car ahead after breakfast to get a diagnosis on Laurie’s back, to resupply dwindling stocks, and to find a comfortable guest house where we could do our laundry, fix our trailer and clean up after five nights of rough camping. We were filthy! With the swallows still scouting the skies for the alien invader, we set off, happy to be back on the bikes and relieved to be on a road that wasn’t inches deep in sand. In no time at all we reached the next river, the Kuanza, and whipped past, at pace on a very firm, red dirt road.
The ride from Kuanza to the next town, Kamakupa, was a pleasure. After covering 47 km in just over two hours, we stopped for breakfast under some tall gum trees which offered the only shade we had seen for miles. As we fuelled up on hot tea, salted potatoes, and boiled eggs, the now-familiar police Land Cruiser approached. A brief chat with Gus confirmed they’d be our escort for the day.
We’ve started to notice a pattern at police checkpoints: they take photos of us, record our license plates, and then they seem to send the information on. It feels like a relay race, with each police roadblock passing the baton to the next town, letting them know we are heading their way. It’s reassuring to know they’re monitoring our progress for our safety, but their discreet approach is commendable.
Kamacupa is another well-maintained town with tarred main streets and working streetlights, all kept clean and tidy. The buildlings are either painted terracotta, yellow or green, with terracotta being by far the most popular, and most of the government buildings have had recent coats of paint. The shops and other commercial buildings are often ramshackle, with corrugated roof sheets held in place by heavy rocks and generally unpainted or covered in graffiti. Many of the town’s significant buildings bear the scars of war, with bullet holes only partially concealed by paint. Most homes are either simple square pole and dagga structures or roughly built brick houses, sometimes using bricks made from termite mounds. Rocks seem to replace nails and timber for roof support. Curiously, we saw a well-planned brick village that stood eerily empty across from a densely populated area of traditional huts.
As we departed Kamacupa, we encountered a charming “I ❤️ Kamacupa” sign splitting the road at a roundabout. We couldn’t resist a photo op. Beyond the town, the road deteriorated, becoming increasingly corrugated. While traffic remained sparse, it was noticeably more frequent than before. The wind had picked up, a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it quickly dispersed the dust kicked up by traffic. On the other, it was often a headwind, slowing our progress a little, but compared to the speed we had been travelling on the previous day, we were flying.
Kuito is a long way uphill from the Kuanza River on higher ground, and Alastair’s updulations came into play, or perhaps we were just getting tired, as the distance increased and the day heated up. About 30km from Kuito, we regrouped for another feeding stop.
Jess really wanted to ride, and so Jaime said she would uplift and give Jess a chance. Jaime at 5’8” dwarfs Jess, barely 5’2” and we had to drop Jaime’s saddle to its lowest point, almost converting it to a monkey bike, and still Jess had to tippy toe to reach the ground! We gave her the honour of starting us off on our last leg of the journey and Caveman volunteered to ride with her.
“My legs are shaking,” she confessed before starting. Her previous cycling experience was limited to a mere 8 km, but she does do some spinning at the gym. Well, spinning must really work, because she made the full distance, red-faced, exhausted but with the biggest smile ever and we cheered in admiration for her tenacity and determination when we finally ended the day. No one was prouder than her dad, Troy, who couldn’t believe it as he saw his little Jess tackle some huge hills and a huge distance.
For once we arrived pretty much on time, around 2:30 in the afternoon, and quickly settled into the most luxurious accommodation we have seen since Victoria Falls, although by no means of the same standard. We quickly discovered that Laurie hadn’t yet been seen by the hospital because of language difficulties, so as quickly as possible, we unhooked the trailer, whose suspension spring was broken, and Gus whisked Laurie off. The rest of us tackled the growing list of repairs, including a thorough assessment of the trailer’s damage.
We’ve been Starlink-less since entering Angola, but today’s discovery was a new low. The cable connecting our router to the Starlink device had somehow come loose and been run over, severing the crucial unique-to-Sarlink connection. Nick, our resident tech wizard, was stumped for the first time. With no Starlink service available in Angola, we’re facing a long wait until we can find an outlet in Namibia or Botswana.
The grime that washed off us during our showers must have created more sludge than the city’s sewer system had ever seen, and the water at the bottom of the showers was red, even after the second or third rinsing. Needless to say, it was so good to feel clean and well-scrubbed.
What was not good at all, was the news that Laurie has a compression fracture in his second lumbar vertebrae and needs special treatment! We are all devastated, particularly Laurie, with the realisation that we have no choice but to casavac him home, which will be no simple task from this part of Angola. Alastair claims that he’s glad Laurie is going, because now he can have Laurie’s beanie for those cold riverside nights, but we all know Alastair’s dark humour is just an attempt to disguise his concern for his little brother.
The Watermeyer brothers are a tight-knit family unit who have immersed themselves in life-long adventures side by side since they were toddlers. During the Silverback Tour in Uganda, roles reversed when Alastair slipped in the shower, causing temporary double vision, and Laurie was the first to rush to his side. They have an inspirational and unbreakable bond. We are so glad that they had that special moment at the Source of the Zambezi, one of their lifelong dreams realised together.
As Day 22 draws to an end, our little team of brave Old Legs feels a little battered, a little daunted, but by no means beaten. Tomorrow is another day, and as we remind ourselves daily, we are doing this to help the pensioners back home in Zimbabwe, who face immense challenges every day, and every day make the same decision: to pick themselves up, dust themselves down, and start all over again.
This blog is dedicated to Laurie W.
Until next time,
Have Fun, Do Good, Do Epic
#OldLegsTour #Angola2024 #EvenMoreEpic