Low ratio box growling, tyres deflated to 3.5 bars, Nyati rolled North over a track through the marshes…
Momentum all important now…
We were on our own, no support vehicle if we stuck.
"Oh God, more fucking Elephants… Hoot, move the basterds off the track".
There it was… Just like that… I knew…
The Gypsy was "Gatfol" with this African adventure…
She looked back at me from the mirror…
Eyes brimming with tears…
Gone was the wonderful cavalier, combative attitude toward ANY challenge… "BRING IT ON"…
Tired now…
Worn down by the grinding reality of continuously taking on todays Africa alone.
Poverty & pestilence. Stupidity & greed. Ignorance & arrogance.
I wonder what the Chinese'll make of it ?
Even the omnipresence of these magnificent giants wasn't enough to rekindle the adventurous flame that had been flickering for some time now.
I imagined her slowly, sadly, dejectedly, walking away down the track…
Even took a pic.
This was a momentous occasion, she'd been with me through the maelstrom of Indian Ocean storms, faced exhaustion on a bicycle, in berg caves, dodged lightning strikes, marauding sharks, two divorces… Everwhere… Everything.
This changes things for Nyati & me…
I pulled off the track, under some trees.
I needed a couple of days to think.
