Testing The Plan

Monday was a Bank Holiday, which meant the library was closed and, for once, there was little I could do about the growing list of jobs that need completing before my Africa cycling trip. Normally that might irritate me. The library has become something approaching an office over the last few weeks, mostly because it provides three things that make organising an extended trip much easier: electricity, internet and somewhere to sit for several hours without being expected to repeatedly buy coffee.

But with the doors firmly shut, I decided to take the hint and give myself a break from staring at maps, researching visa requirements, equipment lists or delving through another spreadsheet telling me how much money I probably shouldn’t be spending. The weather was good and Southern England was still benefiting from long, warm days and the thought of a day at the beach was just too appealing. There are worse ways to spend a Monday.

Being back home has been strange as I’ve found myself caught between enjoying my time here and constantly thinking about leaving again. My Africa cycling trip is getting closer now. Not in the vague, one day I might do this sort of way it was only a few weeks ago, but in the rather more uncomfortable but exciting sense that departure is beginning to feel very real.

And with that comes another thought I haven’t quite been able to shake. What happens if I’m needed back here again?

It’s difficult not to think about after what happened in Scotland. One phone call changed everything. Whatever plans I had at the time became irrelevant and the only thing that mattered was getting back to my home. Africa is bound to be rather less forgiving in that respect.

There will inevitably be places where getting home quickly would be difficult, expensive or both. A ferry and a train from northern Scotland was one thing but trying to get myself and a fully loaded bicycle back from somewhere thousands of kilometres into West Africa is another.

For all the talk of freedom that comes with this lifestyle, there are moments when being able to go anywhere also means accepting how far away you might be when something needs your attention at home.

By the middle of the week it was time to leave home again, although only temporarily. 

The Cantii Way has been sitting on my to-do list for some time. It’s a multi-day route that loops around the county of Kent, close enough to home to be convenient but long and varied enough to be useful. I’ve ridden it once before but wanted to do so again with the aim of producing the first of what I hoped would be many route guides available on the new website. My main rule for these guides is that they need to be created from first-hand experience rather than simply repeating information from somebody else.

I believe that’s essential. If I’m going to tell somebody where a route is difficult, where food becomes awkward to find or whether a particular section is enjoyable on a loaded bike, I want to know because I’ve actually ridden it.

So I packed the bike and disappeared for three days of enjoyable riding through some of the best landscapes Kent offers. The other bonus to this little trip was it gave me the best opportunity before Africa to test everything together in something resembling the way I’ll actually use it. Not just whether individual pieces of equipment work, but whether the whole system works.

Almost any piece of equipment can look perfectly sensible when spread neatly across a floor. Things become more revealing once it has to be packed onto a bicycle, unpacked in the evening, used when you’re tired, packed again in the morning and then repeated several times.

Three days is long enough for small annoyances to start announcing themselves. That strap which seemed perfectly adequate at home suddenly irritates you every time you need to open a pannier. Something you were convinced needed to be easily accessible turns out not to have been touched once. Another item buried at the bottom of a bag somehow becomes the thing you need five times a day. 

Despite years of living off a bike and constantly refining what I carry, I’ve come away from this little trip certain I can downsize a little more. It’s proved to me that you should never really stop assessing the kit you carry and be open to adapting what you pack. The only downside for me is that this just makes my to-do list that bit longer. 

The Cantii Way was particularly useful because it isn’t simply three days of predictable road riding. The route mixes quieter lanes, tracks and rougher surfaces as it loops through Kent, which provided a good test of the bike itself and a chance to expose weakness in any of the components  that a gentle ride around home probably wouldn’t. 

Within a few hours of setting off, the familiar rhythm returned. Ride. Stop. Eat. Ride some more. Start thinking about where the day should end. Set up camp. Pack everything away again the following morning.

It reminded me why I’m putting so much effort into organising Africa in the first place. The website, vaccinations, equipment, money, routes and border research all matter, but none of them are the reason I want to go. I want to ride.

I want to wake up somewhere I didn’t know existed the day before and spend the morning wondering what is beyond the next horizon. The administrative side simply makes that possible.

I’m enjoying being home more than I expected. That doesn’t mean I’m having second thoughts about my Africa cycling trip. If anything, the Cantii Way confirmed the opposite. Once I was moving again, the desire to leave properly returned almost immediately.

But the recent events that brought me back from Scotland have changed something. I’m more conscious now that the freedom to disappear for months comes with another side to it. People continue living their lives while I’m away. Things happen whether I’m there or not. That was always true of course, I just think I’m more aware of it now.

After three days away, I was back where I started with the same library, the same lists and roughly the same number of jobs waiting for me.

That seems to be how Africa preparation works. Complete one task and another two appear from somewhere. But the ride did what I needed it to do.

The bike got a good test ride under load and a new list of component changes has come out of that. The equipment has held up well despite years of use already with only minor improvements needed before I leave. But perhaps most importantly, this little trip reminded me that once all this organisation is finished, life becomes considerably simpler.

This week has been a good reminder that wanting to leave and wanting to stay can exist at exactly the same time. I can be excited about my Africa cycling trip while still appreciating every extra day I have here. The two don’t cancel each other out.

Africa is now close enough that the jobs I’ve been putting off are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Sooner or later I’m going to run out of things to organise.

Then I’ll actually have to leave.