A physically and mentally exhausting 120-day journey from Egypt to South Africa has finally come to an end for a group of adventurous souls from all over the world.

Tired, sore, and weathered from sand and sun, 55 cyclists have completed their 12-thousand kilometre mission ― riding Africa from top to bottom on the seat of a bicycle in just four months.  

Stuart Briggs, 27, of Australia took this year’s win for the men with a time of 398:26 hours, while 25-year-old Gisela Gartmair of Germany cycled her way to the top of the podium with a time of 404:34 in the women’s division. South African Jethro De Decker, 27, took second in the men’s race with a time of 414:11, with American Tim Thomas, 40, taking the third place spot with 418:09. Two Canadian women took second and third in the race; Juliana Austin-Olsen, 39, won silver with a time of 452:38, while Jennifer Crake, 40, took home the bronze with a time of 531:33.

13 more TdA participants, including 11 racers and 2 expedition riders, have also been inducted into the EFI Club having ridden Every F*cking Inch from Cairo to Cape Town. They are: Rod Atkinson, Juliana Austin-Olsen, Jason Becker, Hartmut Boegel, Stuart Briggs, Gerard Coniel, Jethro de Decker, Simon Francis, Gisela Gartmair, Paul Porter, Sunil Shah, Frans Smit, and Daniel Spasojevic.

What some of the riders had to say about finishing:

Stuart Briggs "The feeling of being finished is pretty surreal. These were some of the simplest days of my life, riding from one camp to another, enjoying the day. Now it's back to the reality, back to the real world."  

Jethro De Decker “The tour might be over but the adventure is about to begin.  Tour d’Afrique was north to south, Freedom challenge completes the journey from east to west.  Only this time I’m going to do it one better and win this race!”  

Tim Thomas  “The arrival ceremony in Cape Town super-ceded the race. Crossing the finish line and watching everyone soak up the experience was amazing”   

Gisela Gartmair  “Winning Tour d’Afrique is a tremendous honour, pushing myself harder every day, harder than I ever thought possible.  Some days were extremely difficult and I wondered if I could still get EFI. I came to the Tour d’Afrique knowing that I could do well but I had no idea that I could win.  I loved being able to ride with the men and found each ride more challenging and interesting than the last.”  

Eric Olverson:  “It seems like a lifetime of emotions and experiences have been packed into four months; I’ll need time to work it all out inside.  I’ll tell you what,  though, the sight of the ocean and Table Mountain today is the nicest sight I’ve seen in four months.”

Michelle Sephton "It's bitter sweet to be finished with the tour; I will always remember the challenges. I’m very glad to be home; it was beautiful to cycle into Cape Town."  

Andre Van Eeden It's bitter sweet for me as well. It was a great experience that I would never do again!"  

Jason Becker “Wow.  It’s amazing to me that after two years of dreaming about this, and planning for it, and training for it and picturing how I felt in Cairo, thinking, ‘can I do this or not?’ and now to be standing here at the base of Table Mountain and realizing that I rode every inch of it – it’s kind of a testament to what you can do if you put your mind to it. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a world map again without thinking of this trip and how big it was. Every morning when I stretch I look at the map of Africa on the truck and it’s amazing to look at that line and think I did all that on a bike. “

Congratulations to all the heroes and heroines of TDA 2010!  You're champions, one and all!

Off the top of my head, I can think of a few places I’d enjoy being naked: the shower, the bedroom, a sauna, a lake. But naked while riding a bicycle over a gravel road in the full sun of the Namibian desert doesn’t immediately spring to mind.  Immediately, that is.

The road to Sesriem, Namibia offered epic views: a wide indigo sky smudged with cottony white clouds, sweeping golden desert landscape the colour of wheat and honey, and mountains in shades of dark chocolate.  I was enjoying my ride at the back of the group as the sweep, alone with my thoughts and endless kilometres of sand and sky. Suddenly something caught my attention; off in the distance I could make out two figures coming toward me. By now I can usually identify riders by pedal stroke and jersey long before facial features become distinguishable. But this time, something was amiss. It looked as though the pair was wearing pale, flesh-toned body suits. As they pedaled closer I could see they were wearing little more than serious cycling tan lines, helmets, and mischievous smiles. I had heard rumblings of a resurrection of the Naked Mile, the brainchild of some fun-loving riders of TdA’s past, and it donned on me (around the time I got my first glimpse of nipple), that The Naked Mile was on!

Why?? You may ask. Why not? Is the best answer. I greeted the lady nudists with a laugh and obliged their request to photograph the morning spandex-defying adventure. Not one to miss out on the fun, I was pleased to see Andra, one of my partners in crime, at the lunch stop. We had just missed Dave A., Adam, Hilde and a handful of other brazen bare-assed bicyclists, so we thought we’d strip down for a little ride of our own (after a sandwich or two). We were joined by Pepper,* and the three of us headed down the road to strip off our bike gear in privacy (we were still feeling modest at this point). Moments after pulling off our jerseys, Henry Gold rumbled toward us in The Green Machine, one of our beastly support vehicles. Caught red-handed (and nearly braless), we seized our opportunity and promptly mooned Tour d’Afrique’s founder.  The nudity ice broken by the invigorating mooning, we disrobed and hopped on our bicycles in a fit of naked merriment and good cheer. I was riding our mechanic Chris’s bike while he was on vacation (sorry Chris), and within minutes I got a flat. We were enjoying our new found freedom so much we made it a Naked Tire Change. So there we were, baring bits and boobs on a hot strip of desert pavement, crouched over the 29-er rims , cheeks to the wind, pulling and prying and grimacing in the nude. Admittedly, this was not “good naked,” but there was no one around. Until the tour-bus convoy started. At first, we ran for cover in the roadside shrubbery, covering our unmentionables with helmets and limbs. This got old after a while and eventually we surrendered our fate, waving proudly to the hoards of amused camera-wielding tourists.

The flat fixed (quicker and more skillfully than any of us had ever done fully clothed), we cycled our mile and continued on for nearly an hour into the wild nude yonder. Who knew riding in the buff could be so blissful! We’re convinced, judging by the blasé expressions on the few drivers who rode past us without batting an eye, most assumed we had succumbed to a flesh-toned body suit craze. We could have ridden that way all day, if not for the copious amounts of sunscreen required to adequately cover our birthday suits.  I can now safely add “riding a bicycle” to my “comfortably nude” list. Somewhere near the top.

*Names have been changed to protect the nude. For some, what happens on TdA, stays on TdA!  

If the Tour d'Afrique were a crate of oranges, right about now we'd be the squishy one in the bottom of the cardboard box, the one covered in a musty-smelling damp green mould the colour of oxidized copper that causes you to recoil in disgust when your fingers meet its slimy flesh. Yep. It's been a rainy week to live in a tent.

We're still a day away from reaching Windhoek, the end of the "Elephant Highway" section that began in Zambia's Victoria Falls. Many of the riders are eager to dry out in a hotel room (with the exception of those rare Every F**king Night in a Tent people...Dave Arman, you are a legend). It's been raining every day since Maun, Botswana, chilling the air and permeating every piece of our clothing with bone-chilling moisture.

Yesterday's 207km ride crossing the border from Botswana into Namibia was the longest of the tour, and for many, the longest distance they'd  travelled in a single day on a bicycle. Our resident surgeon, Canadian rider Bill Nelems, finished the day with a smile and a sense of accomplishment, having successfully completed the longest ride of his life on his 71st birthday. Way to go Bill!

But the never-ending deluge of rain isn't all bad; we'll all appreciate that first hot shower in Windhoek that much more. And if this rain keeps up, the upcoming dirt roads in Namibia are sure to be a mud-lover's paradise for the mountain bikers. Besides, the sound of rain drops tends to drown out the nightly fart symphony nicely.

1.) What are your thoughts on the Zambezi Zone so far?

Long distances and a lot of paved roads. I like unpaved roads so I miss them a little bit but the people are nice.

2.) What is the first thing you purchase when you get to a rest day?

Fruits. Juicy fruits with a lot of water inside. Watermelons, oranges, but not bananas. And internet.

3.) What is the first thing you hear when you wake up in the morning? What’s the first thing you think about?

Sometimes I hear Eric Olverson putting down his tent at half past four. I think about my bike and look to see if it’s there and when it is, I am happy.

4.) Aside from your bicycle, what item can you not live without on tour?

The trucks and the kitchen. And James’s cooking.  

5.) What is your favourite meal or thing to eat on tour?

Spaghetti Bolognaise.

6.) Complete this sentence: Tour d’Afrique makes me feel…

Tired. Tired but happy. And free.

1.) What are your thoughts on the Zambezi Zone so far?

The stages have been very long and the people very friendly here in Zambia. I am looking forward to Livingstone. I think it is going to be the absolute highlight of the section.  It was a quiet section until now, not a lot of change in the landscape. But we are coming more and more to the highlight. It is easy living in Zambia with the nice people, and the ladies are happy when you take their picture.

2.) What is the first thing you purchase when you get to a rest day?

Internet. I look forward to reading my emails and having contact with my family. And in Lusaka I enjoyed ice cream and chocolate for the first time, and good coffee, cappuccino and cake.

3.) What is the first thing you hear when you wake up in the morning?

I hear Ronel in the kitchen; I know the water is cooking and coffee is coming soon. Then I hear my alarm clock. Normally I wake up very early. I look very forward to the coffee in the morning.

4.) Aside from your bicycle, what item can you not live without on tour?

I really enjoy having the option of using my MP3 player. My notebook is also very important.

5.) What is your favourite meal or thing to eat on tour?

Absolutely this is an easy question. The salad with the feta cheese. I like feta very much.

6.) Complete this sentence: Tour d’Afrique makes me feel…

Happy.

The cuisine of Zambia shares a lot of similarities with the east African countries we’ve cycled and digested our way through so far, particularly in rural areas. But since Zambia is also one of the most urbanized countries in Africa the availability of fast-food and the influence of the western diet becomes more pronounced, especially in the larger cities. Zambia even has a Subway sandwich chain… for those of you who have been dying for a foot-log assorted.
 
But traditional foods like maize, cassava, peanuts, beans and greens like spinach, pumpkin and sweet potato leaves continue to play a large role in the diet of most Zambians. This is especially true amongst those who still consider fast-food and meat a major luxury.
 
Staple Foods:
 
Nshima: Regardless of wealth or social class, the central focus of the population’s diet is Nshima,which permeates deep into the cultural pulse of Zambia. More than just white lumps of bland, taste bud-shunning maize meal, nshima plays a role in the folklore, rituals, hospitality and social customs of the country. There are up to 20 different terms for nshima depending on temperature, texture, colour, who cooked it, how it was cooked…etc etc. There’s even a term for nshima left over from the night before: nshima ya cimbala – which men are advised not to eat since it is believed to cause weakness of the joints and to usurp his sexual prowess!
 
Relishes/Ndiwo: Thank goodness nshima invited its tastier friend the relish to the party. Relishes made with beef, chicken, goat, fish, vegetables or beans add some desperately needed zip to the predominantly bland flavour soiree.
 
Fish: Tilapia (or Bream), Tiger fish, Nile Perch and frightening Giant Catfish the size of small children are common. I should clarify that while I personally find them terrifying - you might find them deliciously unscary. Dried Kapenta (those tiny silvery sardine-like fishes) are also popular in Zambia, and typically served partially reconstituted in a sauce of tomato and onions.
 
It’s worth mentioning that Zambia shares part of Lake Tanganyika, which is another stunning example of biodiversity. The lake is regarded as one of the most biologically unique habitats on earth - home to at least 400 different species of fish. Just like Lake Malawi, Lake Tanganyika is extremely old, and its age, combined with its ecological isolation has led to the evolution of several unique fish species found no where else in the world (98% of its cichlids); most of these are concentrated in the Zambian waters of the lake.
 
Fruit: Zambia offers more fruit-lover nirvana, with all the wondrous fruit favourites: mango, guava, papaya (pawpaw), oranges, apples, watermelon and bananas (among others).
 
Street Foods:
 
Mopani Worm: The Mopani or Mopane Worm is not exclusively a street food and not really a worm but a caterpillar, which lays its eggs on the leaves of the Mopane tree; if given the chance, it will grow into the attractive Emperor moth. They are hand harvested in the wild using the pick/squeeze/toss method: Pick the largest ones from the Mopane tree, squeeze them like a tube of toothpaste to rupture the innards and expel the bright yellow-green contents of the gut in a slimy pop, and toss them into a bucket. The worms are then boiled in salty water and sun-dried. Mopane worms play a vital role in the booming edible insect trade. As a food source, these plump caterpillars are a body-builders dream: less fat than an egg and nearly three times the protein content of beef! Depending on who you ask, their flavour profile ranges from, “not bad when fresh, but when stale like a cheesy, but without the cheese or the flavour,” to, “very earthy and rock-like,” or “like eating dried wood,” and finally, “tastes like a dog biscuit.” So it sounds like you’ll just have to try one for yourself to decide.
 
Other Zambian street foods include the ever-popular chicken and chips and an increased appearance of boiled egg vendors – kids who wander the streets with hard boiled eggs and a tray of salt, and if you’re lucky, pepper and hot sauce for seasoning.
 
Beer/Alcohol:
 
Shake Shake: Shake Shake is a highly unusual and inexpensive beer sold in tetrapak-style containers. It gets its name because it needs to be shaken vigorously before drinking. Shake Shake has a thick layer of sediment that collects on the bottom, giving the beer a grainy, milky texture that coats the mouth. The brew is made from sorghum and maize and has a powerful sour yeast flavour with a lemony tang – if it’s sweet, it hasn’t matured properly. The funniest description I've read called its flavour: “sour green apples and barnyard.” But some people love it, so you be the judge.
 
Mosi: Mosi is the beer of Zambia and gets its name from Victoria Falls, which was originally called Mosi-oa-Tunya (the smoke that thunders). Mosi’s slogan "Great Nights, Great Mornings, Great Beer,” stems from the claim that the beer won’t give you a hangover. Please don’t yell at me if this turns out to be a clever marketing ploy.

Tipping: Tipping in Zambia is not customary, but is appreciated. In restaurants a service charge is often added, but if not, 10% is appropriate.

Birthday parties get better with age. Your mom doesn’t dictate the guest list, you don’t have to eat hot dogs (unless you want to) and there’s usually beer involved instead of apple juice. Sure, it means you’re a year older, and maybe you don’t get to play pin the tail on the donkey or open a bunch of presents, but most of us have too much stuff anyways. On Thursday riders sweated through their longest stretch of the tour: 197km of hot, rolling Zambian pavement. Cold beer and other boozy concoctions were the reward, thanks to Tony who supplied the makings of a proper birthday celebration to bring in his 50th with finesse. Juliana shared the April 8th birthday, and she and Rod treated us by whipping up a mammoth batch of Nanaimo Bars, our first official camp dessert of the tour. For those readers unfamiliar with this regional Canadian delicacy - in essence, you’ve got a dense layer of chocolatey coconut goodness, suffocated by a thick slab of artery-congealing custard, and then hermetically sealed with a blanket of pure milk chocolate nirvana. Legend has it they were created in the Vancouver Island city of Nanaimo, and that James’s grandma Marlene may or may not have invented them. Let’s assume that she did.

Getting back to the cold beer; I love a good mission (almost as much as a good caper…the mystery kind, not the pickled flower bud). That morning Sharita, James and I were on a mission to find ice for the party, but at 7am outside of Chipata, Zambia, we had our work cut out for us. After a few vain attempts we were pointed in the direction of the local abbatoir – Zambeef Industries (I wish they made t-shirts). Sharita muscled our behemoth beast of a support vehicle into the dirt parking lot and killed the ignition next to a queue of cattle who had chewed their last cud. I couldn’t resist the chance to catch a behind the scenes glimpse of Africa’s agriculture industry. Peering through a thin pane of broken glass, I watched men in dark blue Zambeef jumpsuits dispatching steers with deft dexterity. The ice, thankfully, was sourced from a separate faction of the facility, and brought out in giant transparent blocks that glistened like jewels in the sun. Four men with bulging forearms strengthened by years of slinging cattle hocks set to work hacking the blocks into mini-icebergs. Thoroughly pleased with ourselves and feeling sneaky, we chucked a chunk of celebratory birthday ice at Tony on his bike as we whizzed past him on the road to camp. It was already shaping up to be an interesting day.

A 197km day in the hot sun calls for what TdA calls a refresh stop. Typically this consists of a vehicle strategically parked to provide water and a snack for riders between lunch and camp on exceptionally long rides. But on this particular day we didn’t have a vehicle to spare.  Sharita dropped me off on the side of the road at the 151km mark in the shadiest patch of bush she could find, just me and a plastic crate of PVM energy bars, a box of bananas, two jerry cans of water and a bag of drink crystals. Within minutes I was surrounded by two dozen curious children who sat in groups to stare at the spectacle before them, my every move eliciting waves of hysterical excited laughter. I’m guessing it’s not every day that a 6’2” white woman decides to sit in the bush with a shrine of calorically dense foodstuffs.  The shyer children – most of them girls - sat quietly amongst the yellow grass and dead leaves, watching me as they chewed long sticks of sugar cane that left circles of pale yellow residue around their mouths. One young girl cradled a tiny infant wrapped in a colourful fabric sling, the baby fast asleep against the warmth of her sister’s skin.  Meanwhile, some of the more brazen young boys were determined to impress me with their antics, smacking their mouths with their palms to make hollow popping sounds as they did their best “I’m an 8-year-old making funny faces while doing a funny walk,” grandstanding. One of the boys happily stuffed small brown grasshoppers into his mouth, flashing a wide smile that exposed bits of spiny leg and wing clinging to his white teeth. He transported his snack on a long blade of grass, skewering the still-wiggling insects like shish kabobs in a neatly stacked pile.  Cows and pigs roamed through the rest stop as riders came and went, filling up and moving on as the afternoon sun heated the air like a blow dryer.   

And now we’re in Lusaka, home base for our first rest day in Zambia. Zambia makes me feel like a bizzillionaire, thanks to an exchange rate somewhere around 4640 Kwatcha per US dollar (if you see me with a perplexed grimace on my face in Zambia, I’m probably trying to figure out how much I owe for a banana). Our camp has a pool and the city has a movie theatre. It’s time to soak up some pop culture, air the armpit stench out of our tents, and stock up on baby wipes.

-Allison Barnes

Overview: Sandwiched between Tanzania, Zambia and Mozambique, “The Warm Heart of Africa” is a land of simple food brought to the table by local farmers toiling away at subsistence crops like maize, cassava and sweet potatoes. Fish is one of the largest protein sources thanks to Lake Malawi – an absolutely incredible example of biodiversity; we’re talking more fish species than any other lake in the world, including members of the beautifully delicious cichlid family, highly prized in both culinary circles and the aquarium trade.
 
In lieu of a stove, food is traditionally cooked over a wood or charcoal fire using the east African classic - “tripod/three supporting stones” - method. Many Malawians also have mud stoves for baking bread outside.
 
The fruit here continues to impress with a wide variety of juicy vitamin packed goodness to choose from along with a good selection of green leafy vegetables and beans.
 
Staple Foods:
 
Nsima: By now, you may be a seasoned pro at the art of rolling slick maize meal balls - or maybe you’re still trying to wash the smears of ugali out of your bike shorts. Fear not! You’ve still got time to master it.  Malawians call their maize meal “Nsima,” but it’s essentially the same thing. Maize was brought to the continent from the Americas by the Portugese and is prolific throughout east Africa for a number of reasons: it stores well, has a convenient protective husk to help keep birds off the cobs, and in the right conditions, it’s highly productive.
 
By some Malawian standards, a meal is not psychologically complete without Nsima. No matter how much you’ve eaten (never mind if you’ve had to undo your pants), you’ve only had a “snack” unless that meal included Nsima.
 
Ndiwo: In Malawi, you eat your Nsima with a relish or two. Relishes – or side dishes – are called Ndiwo. One is often fish, meat or egg-based, the other made of veggies like cabbage or sweet potatoes and ground peanuts. Relishes are prepared with a hefty amount of oil and cooked through – eating raw or undercooked vegetables is not part of the culture.
 
Cassava: The “other” starch – cassava can also be used to make nsima, but some view it as inferior in flavour compared to maize. Cassava was also introduced by the Portugese; but unlike maize, it’s incredibly hearty. Not only can cassava tolerate poor soil and drought, but also a wide range of elevations, putting once unproductive land to good use.
 
Fish: Fish is big here thanks to Lake Malawi. Chambo is a type of tilapia fish and is considered a national delicacy. Crispy fried Chambo and Chips is a popular street food option and Curried Chambo makes a nice relish.
 
Street Foods:
 
Chicken and Chips: Soggy chips partnered with scrawny deep fried pieces of chicken (see food remnants in James’s beard for an example).
 
Mice Ka-Bobs: Some of you may have a difficult time enjoying foods outside of your usual repertoire, especially those of animal origin. But for those with a more adventure-some palate, Malawi has just what the doctor ordered! Kapuku are a breed of field mice that grow plump on maize and other crops. The ‘original recipe’ is simple: boil the mice, salt them, then cook over a fire until nearly bone dry. Young men and boys do most of the hunting; batches are strung onto long mouse ka-bob sticks and sold in markets and roadside stalls. Kapuku are known for their rather detrimental distinguishing behavioural feature – they hide out in groups of 25-50 in a single hole, making them the favourite jackpot for hunters.
 
Beer: Welcome to your Carlsberg years… Chances are if you’re reaching for a beer in Malawi, it’s going to be a Carlsberg. The company’s Malawi brewery opened in 1968 and was the first outside of Denmark. The beers’ been flowing ever since.
 
Malawi Gin: It may not be the finest spirit you’ve ever tasted, and don’t ask me if it’s made with Juniper berries. But after a long day on the bike, Malawi’s version of the classic G & T goes down real smooth.

The Tour d’Afrique Foundation hit another milestone this afternoon.  We celebrated our last full day in Malawi by donating 72 bicycles to three local organizations; sweet new rides that will give NGO staff transportation to reach those who can use their help. This year, 32 bicycles went to Emmanuel International, 20 to Partners in Health, and another 20 to Canadian Physicians for Aid and Relief. That brings the total number of bicycles donated through the TdA Foundation to more than 350 for 2010, and more than 1500 bikes since 2003!

Special thanks are in order for Jonny, Noel and Elasto of Africycle, an organization that makes it possible for the TdA Foundation to donate bicycles and give back to the people and communities we cycle through in Malawi.  These three awesome dudes joined us in Chitimba and provided tons of support to the tour over the last week.  We owe them a huge thanks!

We're doing a lot of sweating these days. The air in Tanzania is so thick with humidity it feels like being locked in a giant greenhouse (complete with lush green flora). The sweat comes in the absence of movement ─ just breathing is enough to get the beads percolating through the pores on our upper lips. Add 100 km on a bike to that mix and you've got yourself a recipe for a band of clammy, energy-sapped cyclists dying for a faucet, a hose, a bucket – anything – to rinse off the film of sweaty red dust they've accumulated after a scorching hot day on the road. Shower to Shower is a popular brand of antiperspirant sold in these parts; clearly, it doesn't know what it's up against.

But the face-melting humidity isn't the only challenge Tanzania is throwing our way; this is puncture country. Thanks to an aptly named low-lying shrub known as, “Devil's Thorn,” if you weren't good at changing flats before this section, you are now. As the last riders rolled (or walked depending on their luck) into camp yesterday, clouds blotted out the sun, showering our sweaty faces with a cool, light rain and a brief break from the oppressive heat. And then, a real rainbow appeared. A rainbow so perfect it put all other rainbows to shame, arcing over us in a thick kaleidoscope band of shimmering colour; Andra was particularly delighted (she's a rainbow-appreciating sort of gal). Our bush camp was the talk of the town (or this particular patch of thorny land), and locals were understandably curious, settling in for an evening at the TdA theatre. James delivered another rousing rider meal to finish the day, and we washed down a crowd-pleaser of a coconut milk curry with warm beer (tangy Mrs. Balls chutney gets an honourable mention. Thank you, Mrs. Balls).
 
Sleep continues to be a challenge for those unaccustomed to sauna temperature slumber, but odds are tonight will be better. This is a real bush camp, perched on a mountain surrounded by trees. The thick blanket of humidity has loosened it's grasp, and knee-high grass blows in the soft, cooling wind. Tomorrow we ride our last day of dirt for a long while. *sniff*