Listen to Africa is a 24,000-kilometre cycling expedition, recording African sounds and voices.
More »Photographs of some of the places we stay during the journey (the idea arose from a comment – thanks Daf!). Photographs by Huw and Bex. Last updated: 16th January 2010.
A small milestone in Aquitaine 
Yesterday, somewhere along the Canal de Garonne in Aquitaine, we pedalled our one thousandth kilometre. It amazes me that all those little turns of the pedal really do add up, and suddenly you find you’ve nearly crossed a country. We booked ourselves into a hotel to celebrate, and Huw cooked a meal by firing up our stove in the bathtub.
We’re in vineyard country: the hillsides are covered with rows of stumpy vines and white-flowering plum orchards. We’ve seen bats and heard owls and woodpeckers. While we’ve had occasional glimmers of southern European warmth – dry-grassed and humming with insects – it’s mostly been cold and misty. Our efforts to enjoy the cold while it lasts collapsed when it dipped to minus five one night; we lay in our one season sleeping bags, watching ice form on the tent and willing Africa closer.
Ambling down the Atlantic coast 
Sorry for the lack of updates; finding internet access in France is turning out to be trickier than we expected (and we can’t quite bring ourselves to use McDonalds’ wifi. Yet).
So, where were we? Oh yes, in Saint-Nazaire, and about to cross The Bridge of Terror (I think it’s also known as Pont Saint-Nazaire). It might have been the relief at having survived, but reaching the south side of the Loire felt a bit like reaching a new country. Immediately the sun seemed yellower, the buildings whiter, the sky bigger and bluer. And, within minutes, we stumbled across the Atlantic coast cycle route, which we’ve dipped into and out of ever since. Bliss.
A day in the life of a touring cyclist 
Huw wakes at around 6.30am, just after the birds, when the first glimmers of light are starting to show. He lies snugly tucked up in his sleeping bag as the birdsong gets louder and the sun starts to show over the horizon. Bex at this time is showing no signs of life.
At about 7.15am a combination of a weak bladder and a growing urgency for the first coffee of the day forces movement. The nights and early mornings are cold (near freezing) so there is a certain reluctance.
Ten things we’ve learned in Brittany 
After ten days and 380 kilometres (300 of them in generally the right direction), we rolled through the marshes of southern Brittany and into Saint-Nazaire on Saturday evening. It’s a bit of a landmark for us; Saint-Nazaire sits on the Atlantic coast, which we’ll be following all the way to Bordeaux, and through much of Africa.
Brittany has been a wonderful reintroduction to the “rigours” of travel. We’ve met brilliant people – from caravan dwelling families and barfly journalists to war veterans and cycle touring campaigners. We’ve slept in campsites, wood-beamed gîtes and farmers’ fields. We’ve pedalled along hills, woodlands, towpaths, hills, farmland, marshes and hills. We’ve eaten, well, anything and everything really.
So, as a tribute to Brittany, here are ten things we’ve learned while we’ve been in the region:
France is huge! We’ve been pedalling hard for days and we’re still in that bulgy bit in the north-west. It was only 2 inches on the map.. #
Yesterday: 71kms. Breezed up hills. Brilliant. Today: cycled in circles for hrs before giving up just nr where we started (Bex mapreading..) #
The pedalling begins; our bodies are revolting… 
By any normal cyclist’s standards, we’re hardly cycling at all. Aiming to reach an ordinary humanoid level of fitness in about a month’s time, we’ve started slowly, clocking up a total of 135 kilometres in four days.
Even at this pace though, our bodies are revolting (you can take that in any way you like). Our legs feel like lead. We’re sleeping 10 – 12 hours a night. Our bodies seem to have remembered what a metabolism is; we are permanently hungry.
But the pace of travel is a brilliant relief from the frenetic running around of our last weeks in the UK. Apart from the 17% gradient outside our front door, our first two days of pedalling in England were distinctly relaxed. With two friends taking control of the route so Huw and I could concentrate on persuading our legs to work (thanks Daf and Chris!), we meandered along seafront promenades and farm lanes towards Portsmouth, where Huw’s parents met us and treated us to a farewell meal.
Reached St Malo this morning. It’s T-shirt weather (for English people), folks are nice to cyclists and it’s our 1st night camping. Lovely. #
Well, we made it to France – via a brief encounter with a clown convention nr Bognor and a lovely meal with family and friends in Portsmouth #
A lovely day – all blustery sunshine (no sleet after all). Tired, happy and a little achey. Going to enjoy 1st eve away from computers i … #
Made it the whole 10kms to worthing and still alive, despite the ‘mountain’ in the way. Right, lunch! #
Update (8th March): Oops, deleted old Twitter messages that randomly showed up here – sorry about that!
