Day 1: Eastbourne to Weissbach, Germany. Odo start – 25k miles
A perfect start to the day (all be it three days late...), clear blue skies and dad’s cooking a fry up, sweet! It’s a warm send off from my mum and dad, I’m truly grateful for everything and forever in their debt. Mum sees past the dangers of the trip, and is smiling and enjoying the moment, a good thing. And brilliantly, dad let me nick his watch late last night (although he did keep pointing out it only cost him £1.99, so lets not get carried away). And even more brilliantly, he gave me a wodge of US dollars, isn’t it great to get holiday money!
The ride to the ferry, in the sunshine is a good one, the only downside being greasy roads due to last night’s rain. But we’re not racing, just drinking in the English countryside again. It’s going to be a day of repetition, I’ve done the first part (2.5k miles) of the trip before, crossing Europe and riding through snow in Bosnia. All the roads are familiar, and as boring as ever, but thankfully dry. And we’re hoping to dodge that snow later on too. We manage just over 300 miles today, gotta up that tomorrow!
Two introductions, Rob, my American friend whom I met in Cartagena, Colombia, on my last big trip. He’s a good guy, pretty easy going, and miraculously has managed to get all his paperwork together, kind of. He’s leaving the UK one day after me as he awaits his Egyptian visa. To give you an idea of what it’s like when we ride places together, I’ll sum up our ride from London to Eastbourne. He’s following as we’re going to my parent’s house. His lights are so frickin bright in my mirrors, I can’t see anything behind me, it’s like being followed by the Sun. On the flip side, my bike has a race exhaust, and at motorway speeds just emits a constant loud droning. And it’s worse if you’re following...tit for tat thus far!
Which brings us onto the second introduction, Kirsty, my abused KTM. Kirsty is a 2004 KTM 640 Adventure R, with 25k on the clock. Obviously, for this kind of trip, you’d want a pampered and well serviced bike. So, I’ve rallied Kirsty in Wales, driven across tank driving ranges in Salsbury, crashed her around enduro events in Kent, and generally abused her. She gets an annual wash, and two days ago wasn’t running, or stopping. With great help from Matt at Oval Motorcycle Centre, we’ve fixed broken cables, none running parts and fitted new brake pads. And Kirsty has been faultless and glorious all blinking day, she’s perfect! Other than the two screws which shook loose from the fairing today....

Day 2: Weissbach – Trieben, Austria. Odo started 253239
Germany crossed, that’s all there is to say for most of today. More monotonous European motorway. 539 miles, nine hours in the saddle. Ended up in Austria, the first beautiful views of the trip, and Kirsty’s place of origin 
I wonder how’s Rob doing...

Day 3: Trieben –The Roadside in Serbia. Odo started 25862
A cold start to the day, freezing fog. Not much fun riding through, but it soon clears and we get to enjoy the Austrian scenery. Busting out of Austria and into Slovenia and then Croatia. We aren’t sightseeing unfortunately as we have a ferry to catch in eastern Turkey. The satnav gives distances to the next turn, the first instruction is 174 miles, and the following instruction 220 miles after that one. Days don’t get much more exciting.
Still, the further east we travel the warmer it gets, 27c by early afternoon, delightful. We push on, past Beograd, and as the odometer nudges around to 500 miles, I start looking for a motel. Should be easy as approx ten miles ago I past three, the seem pretty popular. 101 miles later, I’m pulling in to the first motel I’ve seen...
This part of the trip is pretty tedious, for me, the trip will start when we reach north Africa. This is almost like the train or taxi journey to the airport!

Day 4: Serbian Roadside – Duzce, Turkey. Odo started 26463
A fantastic start to the day, the Sun is up, but it’s rather brisk, perfect biking weather. Again, we’re still just munching miles, so before long we enter, and exit Bulgaria. I say before long, but it’s actually most of the day. We cross into Turkey, and, well we’re soon passing Istanbul, and heading for Ankara.
We’ve seen our first overlanders of the trip, two pairs and a group of about ten (Globe Busters?) going the other way, friendly waves are exchanged. But at lunch, we meet a couple of Spanish guys heading the same way and we have lunch together. Nice guys, spending three weeks touring Turkey, sounds fun!
570ish miles today, and it looks like I’m having more problems than Kirsty. Oddly, I can’t move my fingers properly! I assume it’s from the vibes on the handlebars and the amount of time sat with my hand in one position, it’s only the right hand, perhaps a day off will resolve the issue. Hopefully tomorrow, we’ll hit the port where we’re sailing to Egypt from, and we may start getting some good pics and fun!
Day 5: Duzce – Iskenderun. Odo started 27041
Like giant hands wrapped in ice cold mink fur, the cold air embraces me as I hit the road, into the mist and off towards Ankara. I’ve underestimated how cold it is, and how long it stays cold. I stop after about 50 miles and throw on my winter gloves, they’ll be with me until lunch.
I really enjoy this kind of travel, the scenery is pretty barren, but very hilly, if not quit mountainous. The roads are poor, jostling you about as you fly over the imperfections (which are numerous). Kirsty is perfect for this, the long travel suspension cosseting me like the ubiquitous magic carpet. I’ve no concerns, no one to worry about, just travelling. The traffic is light, but when all I can see is tarmac and the earth, I get a unique and glorious sensation of being just right. We’re seeing new lands, experiencing new views. It’s a sensational experience.
As I’m enjoying my day, a cop stands in the road and pulls me over. I was doing 116km/h, but I’m sure all the signs say the limit is 120? They do, but the limit for bikes is 100km/h, you’re just expected to guess this I imagine. Brilliantly though, he gives me a ticket, doesn’t take my passport details and I have 15 days to pay. So, I’m hoping to dodge that one at the border!
Feeling pretty happy with getting away with it, 25 minutes later I’m pulled again. And this guy won’t let me go without payment. It’s all official though, there’s a police station by the road, and annoyingly he won’t let me leave until someone issues me a receipt. Ce la vie, and it’s not like I didn’t get a warning 25 minutes earlier...
We push on, and just as we’re nearing our destination, I get to watch a nice lightening storm, and after approx 540 miles, I’m looking forwards to a day off the bike!

Day 6: Iskenderun
Well, I check out how the ferry system operates, looks pretty straightforward. We just need Rob to rock up and we’ll be off!
At 21:30 Rob rolls up. He has ridden from Zagreb, only stopping for a 15 minute kip in a truck stop car park in the early hours this morning, brilliant effort! We’ll see if our paper work can be cleared tomorrow morning for the midday ferry...

Day 7: Iskenderun
Well, the paperwork couldn’t be cleared, so we’re off tomorrow... The American Wanker is annoying the shit out of me.
Day 8: Iskenderun – Port Said (Faud), Egypt
TAW and I are very excited, fingers crossed we’re off to start the African journey. We’ve been asked to be at the travel agent by about half nine, so we eat breakfast, pack and head down there. It’s just started to rain when we arrive, and apparently there’s a bit of a wait for someone to take us to the boat. There’re also a few foot passengers waiting for transport. So, TAW and I stick out like sore thumbs, and start chatting to a few of the guys. Turns out about 90% of the people getting the ferry are from Syria. They are fleeing their troubled land, it’s really sad to see. And so interesting to hear their story.
It puts us in our place a bit, a lot. We’re two jokers riding our bikes across foreign lands for fun and excitement. These guys are fleeing their home country so they don’t get enlisted and forced to kill their fellow countrymen. Despite Turkey firing missiles in retaliation (Rob saw three being launched on his trip down!), there isn’t any animosity between the two peoples. We see quite a lot of Syrian number plates, and the unfortunate people fleeing to Egypt are looked after by the Turkish. The guys we meet, Abdul and Mohammed, are brothers, 23 and 25. They’ve left behind their parents and sisters to try to find work in Cairo. The area they’ve left is reasonable safe, but if they get caught, they’ll be forced to enlist. Despite the tough situation, they are both excited, they are young men, it’s their first time leaving their beloved country, and they are looking to the future. They are great guys, very friendly, and it’ so intriguing to experience this with them, everything is exciting for them, I really really hope they have a bright future, fingers crossed.
We’re called by the travel agent, our escort has arrived and we’re off to the ferry. It’s half ten, and we’re hoping to sail at midday, sweet. Although, it’s raining really hard now and we get soaked, it’ll be alright as we’re sure to be in our cabin soon. Seven and a half hours later, we’re boarding the ferry, and approx two hours later we’re off. It’s been quite a hard day, no access to food until eight in the evening. Rob and are aren’t the friendliest individuals when hungry, but we tough it out! We’ve 18 hours ahead, and then the dreaded Egyptian customs, fingers crossed it won’t be as bad as everyone makes it out to be.
In the meantime, Ramses and Tutankhamen await...
Day 9: Port Said.
Or rather, we await. The plush ferry arrives at the Suez Canal, Port Said. We can see Africa and the third continent of the trip, frickin amazing. I can almost make out the pyramids! There’re approx 40 vessels waiting in the waters near the coast, I wonder what they’re up to?
We stop moving ourselves, and Rob begins packing his bags. I jokingly offer “Why’re you doing that, we won’t be leaving for another day”. Wish I hadn’t said that... Four hours after arriving outside the port, it becomes clear we won’t be berthing, we’re going to be here for a minimum of twelve hours.
Rob’s having a great time, turns out his panniers and bags aren’t as waterproof as he thought. In fact, they aren’t waterproof at all. Brilliantly, he has my Lonely Planet guide book in one of his panniers, and it has absorbed water like only a bone dry sponge can. Still, not to worry, he takes all his kit up on the deck to let it dry out, should be fine. I’m reading my book in the cabin, when about four hours later he returns. Soaked. His kit had almost dried, he was just saying to himself he’d pick it all up, just ten more mins relaxing in the sun. But wait, hang on, why does he feel soaking wet suddenly? Oh, the pumps are pumping water on to the deck. Where him and all his kit is lying. High five!
I’ll give you an example of how plush the ferry is. When I got on board, I wandered around trying to find out where our cabin was. I wandered around aimlessly, and eventually found myself on the bridge of the ship. Just me. Brilliant. Although the captain did eventually turn up. So, shop? Yes. Products and staff? No. Bar? Yes. Drinks and staff? No. Restaurants? Yes. Food and staff? No. You get the picture... I think TAW loses some weight
So, very excited, but ultimately, it’s a little longer to wait. I imagine we’ll have to get used to this, I think the locals call it ‘Africa Time’!

Day 10: Port Said...
At six in the morning there’s a knock at our door. We’re berthed! Although there is still plenty of waiting to do. The boat’s crew take the passports to passport control whilst we all wait. And wait. And wait.
We get asked to move our bikes onto the port, so that the next bunch of trucks can load up. Safely parked on the dock, The American Wanker throws a hissy fit. He says to one of the crew, ‘OK, you are responsible for my bike whilst it’s parked there’. Now ensues one man’s will against another. One man doesn’t care, it isn’t on his boat and is no longer his responsibility, the other man raises his voice. It’s exhilarating to watch. When this is done, TAW and I take a seat at the back of the boat, overlooking the bikes and discuss climate change.
About one in the afternoon, we can leave the boat, the passports are back! There’s confusion on the dock as to where we can go with the bikes, but thankfully the guys we met on the boat manage to find out where we need to go and roughly what we need to do, sweet, thanks guys! We drop the bikes to be held in a pound whilst customs is carried out. Which we’re told may take three days. Hmm.
Two overland trucks were on the ferry the day beforehand, and we briefly met one of the travellers. When we pull into the pound, we see the two 4x4 vehicles parked up too, and their corresponding passengers. We’re reintroduced to Gerry, Abi (his girlfriend) and Roy. We then head of to carry out paperwork fun.
Back in the hotel later that afternoon, we bump into Roy. Roy is an Indonesian guy, who was born and raised in Holland. He speaks seven languages, works for the UN, and is seemingly running a production for UNICEF. He greets us, and asks who’s on the KTM. ‘Me’ I reply. ‘Oh’ he says, ‘you’re on the good bike, and you’re’ pointing at Rob, ‘on the Harley...’. I snigger, brilliant! We discuss routes, and again he looks at Rob, questioning his mode of transport. ‘Well, I hope you video it, I’d love to see it’ he leaves us with.
So far, it has cost us $500 each for the ferry and bikes from Turkey to Egypt, then $83 to get off the boat and, hopefully, finally $200 for customs (we got this down from $300 each when TAW declared he was an AMERICAN, and he was going to speak to Harley Davidson). Ouch. I think the fuel is pretty cheap though...
And lastly, happy birthday Blaggo!!
Day 11: Port Said –
Right, up early and down to the shipping agent. What we’re hoping for is to pay $200 for getting our bikes through customs and registered in Egypt, Egyptian number plates and off out of customs, in one day. We’ve been told by most people the process will take three days and cost $500ish.
It’s a bad start though, the office isn’t open at eight, so I bugger off for breakfast and TAW waits around for about half an hour to open. An hour and a half later, we finally head down to customs. For us, the rest of the day is pretty boring, sitting around waiting whilst Karim runs around like a crazy man getting documents checked, signed, rechecked, resigned. It doesn’t look fun, and doesn’t look like it’ll be done in a day. Plus, in the car on the way in, Karim is asking for an extra $200. Suitable argument in the car, TAW stands his ground, we nearly get out of the car, nothing is agreed but we’re adamant we’re not paying a penny more. About half four we bump into the other overlanders, they’ve been here three days, and are now just awaiting their plates. And we’re not long behind them. We’re done in a day, and we end up paying that extra $200, but we view it more as a tip...
For the first time this trip, we’re riding on African soil, free to let the adventure take us. Excited is an understatement.
Day 12 Port Said – Sharm el Sheik: Lovers Tif.
04:00 ACKACKACKACKACKACKACKA AKK Ack AcK AcK. Yes, our hotel is right next to a mosque.
08:20 We hit the rd, but stop, and turn back for breakfast.
08:40 We’re on the road, we grab some gas (filling my spare fuel can at the same time) before leaving Port Said. 20ltrs of unleaded costs me about £3...
WHOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUPPP! We’re riding in Africa bitches!
My gosh, getting out of town, hitting the Egyptian roads for the first time, complete exhilaration. The smell, the other vehicles, the farmers and all that encompasses. To a westerner, it’s surreal. Driving on these roads, it’s very hard to drop your European ways, perhaps your British ways. E.g. people should drive on their side of the road. Hmm, not here. If they feel like your side of the road looks better, they’ll drive on it, and it would seem they have the right to. And actually, it makes no difference if they do, I can always find a bit of tarmac to squeeze onto, just need to get over my Birtishness. Seeing pickup trucks with ten people in the back and field workers riding donkeys is now par for the course. The road surface is pretty good, it’s definitely broken and scared and also rippled in places, but pretty easy going. We’re cruising at 60mph, a self imposed limit. 70 or 80 would prob be OK.
I can’t put into words how special the day feels. We’ve 300 miles to cover, and for the first time I’m not listening to my iPod. But despite having no distraction from the monotony of main road driving, the first 100 miles pass in the blink of an eye. About the 150 mark, we start looking for fuel, and we get a little lesson in African travel. The first three petrol stations are out of gas. Funk. It’s definitely a good feeling when we find one that is selling! A small thing(?) but something that I never experience back home.
Most of the rest of the day is spent eyeing up the scenery, and eying up the desert/sands enviously. If TAW was on a proper bike, we could drop of this tarmac and have some great times following those desert trails. Still, I’m sure that’ll come...
About three in the afternoon we come across another police check point, as usual we scurry around to the front of the queue (bikers privilege), and guess who’s holding things up? Our friends from Port Said, Abi and Gerry. Looks like there’s two roads to Dahab, one is closed due to bandits, the other is open, via Sharm, but you have to take a police escort. Hmm, we don’t really fancy waiting for the escort, and in a moments confusion, we set off....
As we’re speaking to Abi and Gerry, a group (mini convoy?) of cars/trucks heads off through Sinai, towards Sharm El Sheikh. TAW and I look at each other and say ‘lets go’ (perhaps; ‘lets join that convoy’).
This, is where all the trouble begins.
We’ve made a split decision without discussing it, and almost immediately we seperate. TAW is sticking with the convoy, I’m sticking to our self imposed speed limit. A mistake by both of us. But, the reality is, the area isn’t dangerous at all, and TAW is waiting for me at the next check point. Clearly, we’re both angry/annoyed/frustrated by the other. The short exchange is to the point, and pretty much along the lines of: ‘Why’d you not keep up’ and ‘Why’d you bugger off’. But regrouped, and in a huff, we head off. The joys of riding with a partner. Still, the brilliance of riding a bike is, you get to consider both sides of the coin whilst doing it (as you’re on your own with your own thoughts). And, unsurprisingly, once we’ve found accommodation, we’re both offering apologies. It was a split second decision, next time we’ll be on the same track.
Perhaps some scuba tomorrow, to calm our travelling nerves, and on Saturday, Kirsty may well get a nice surprise...

Day 13: Sharm
We book our first scuba of the holiday, with Red Sea Dive School. It’s a beach dive, and it’s ok. The usual sort of reef dive, although we do see two really cool spotted mantas ‘flying’ through the water. They’re about a meter wide and look really cool and so graceful. About half way through though, I get a few really bad sinus pains, and it looks like that’ll be the end of my diving for a while. TAW gets another dive in the afternoon, but I can’t go more than five meters, so I’m def out until South Africa.
For some reason though, we both feel exhausted, and as wild as we are, we end up tucked up in bed by about half six. I’m trying to stay awake until a reasonable hour, but the only English speaking TV channel is showing Miss Congeniality 2. I don’t know what’s worse!
Also, it looks like we’ve both got the holiday belly, so hopefully that’ll pass soon...
Day 14: Sharm – Dahab: Mosquito Wars
Crikey it’s hot. Getting up about eight, it must be about 32c already. Oppressive.
I’m pretty much through my holiday tum, but poor old TAW is just bedding in for the long hall. Dahab is about 50 miles away, so, with a few visits to the restroom, we get on our way. It’s a really enjoyable ride, the barrenness is striking. Just harsh dry mountains and the occasional group of houses. When you get these groupings, there’re about two or three brick built huts. And they’re in the middle of desert landscape. What do these people do? Farm sand? There’s nothing here apart from a road and sand!
When we get into Dahab, it’s immediately clear we should have come here rather than Sharm el Sheik. Sharm is a bit like a Spanish resort, in the type of people that go there and it’s general setup. It’s not really our scene. Getting to Dahab though is cool, it’s much smaller, more relaxed, better restaurants, better diving? There’s even a really cool wreck dive to do here, a ship carrying loads of tanks and motorcycles. But I think the only thing I’ll be doing is a bit of snorkelling.
On a more pleasant note, when we did make it to our hotel, TAW immediately spends about 20 minutes in the bathroom....
And, our buddies Abi and Gerry are here, cool as!
On the funside, TAW and I spend two hours killing mosquitoes. It’s like a computer game. We’ve retreated to our room, a killing zone. Once they come in, they’ll never leave. Initially there’s about four, we get through them pretty easily, but then they start coming in waves, waves of two fortunately, but they are relentless. Our weapon of choice is a folded towel, it can be used in one of two ways. One, to swat them from a range of half a meter, the other to flap around our own legs and body to deter them. I’m sure they went to the same training academy as Jason Bourn...
Day 15 - Dahab
I’ve never been bitten so many times in my entire life! I must have at least 20 bites, damn those pesky mosquitoes! Rob’s off to do his advanced open water certificate, I’m going to be chilling out for a few days until the service shop on carry out the work on Kirsty. We’re aware though that time is fast slipping through our fingers if we’re to make it to Cape Town before Christmas. We’ve booked our ferry out of Aswan to Wadi Haifa, and made a rough itin for site seeing in Egypt....
Other than that, I’m just chillaxing 
Day 16: Dahab
Another excruciating day, chillin... Rob’s having a good time doing his advanced open water certificate. Sounds like he’s having a great time with some spectacular dives, and he’ll probably get a cool wreck dive in on Sunday. The KTM service centre has pushed my service back a day. No big deal, but it’s quite frustrating as I’m itching to get going and get into Africa, I’m tired of chilling!

Day 17: Dahab
Hopefully my last day here, it would’ve been a lot more fun if I could’ve scuba’d. It’s a bit like going skiing and injuring yourself on the first day...
Day 18: Dahab – Sharm, again...
Happy birthday Mum!
So, out the door by about eight, I’m getting a service for Kirsty, and getting on the road. It’s the perfect start to the day. A bowl of cereal, pack the bike, hit the road. It’s overcast, so warm and comfortable rather than scorching hot. It’s beautiful, cruising at about 55mph, enjoying the the waft of cooling air and being captivated by the surroundings, I could do this everyday....
Into KTM, unload the bike, and Kirsty is ready. I’ve got a book, a chair and a nice view of Sharm. The day passes surprisingly quickly, and we’re all done for £300. The missing bolts are replaced, a new chain and sprockets fitted as well as the oil and filters changed. The mechanic thinks the oil leak I’ve had is from two places. The oil breather pipe is kinked, and there’s no washer on the sump plug. We’ll see, but it’s great to ride off on Kirsty, so excited. Gassing it out of the service centre, the back end slews out across the sand...idiot, don’t funking crash right outside the shop! Thankfully (luckily?), I just about catch the slide before I’m on my arse, but it’s got the pulse up a bit! Yeee haaaaw 

Day 19: Sharm to Cairo...
Time for the 300 mile slog to Cairo now, it’s going to take prob about seven hours. We’re just waiting on the Roberts to arrive, so I fill my time sitting by the pool and reading. It’s pretty hot though, so a few dips are required.
Jonesy’s a little later than expected, but that’s cool, we head off. I’ve made a bit of a mistake on my sprockets, these new ones lower the gearing of the bike. This makes Kirsty better off road, and more responsive, but too buzzy on the motorway (not to mention thirstier). 55mph is a comfortable cruise for me, but Rob wants to push on, so we up it to 60-65. It’s a long boring ride, it’s great taking in the countryside, but we have been along this road before. There’s a tunnel under the Red Sea/Suez Canal that we cut under, we get stopped by the army check point. Once the realise we’re just tourists, they quickly let us through, and into one of the closed off lanes, sweet! We buzz through the tunnel, Kirsty’s loud exhaust booming off the walls and reverberating about, and continue our slog.
As we approach Cairo, traffic starts to thicken, and we’re quickly at a standstill. Well, actually we’re not, the traffic is, we’re flying up the hard shoulder with the other bikers. We quickly realise that Cairo is an absolute traffic disaster. Solid traffic everywhere like you could not even begin to imagine. Unbelievably, I’m so grateful for the Red Route in London, congestion charging, public transport, town planners and everything else that makes London such a relatively easy place to navigate. I don’t even know why people get in cabs here, they just sit stationary.
Actually, by the time we reach our hostel, it’s late, and we’re tired. But tomorrow, we’re sure to see some pyramids...

Day 20: Cairo
Well, not quite. Rob has to get a visa and his bike serviced, so I pop off to the Egyptian Museum. Whilst Cairo hasn’t really grasped me, the EM is brilliant. Almost worth coming to Cairo just to see it. It’s pretty shit, a bit shoddy, but that’s what makes it so fabulous. Most modern museums are so well lit, well organised and too sanitised for my liking. This place is straight out of an Indiana Jones movie. All the display cabinets are dusty, half the lights don’t work, artefacts are strewn left right and centre. It’s organised chaos, but it kind of captures me and draws me in. Due to half the lights not working, there’s an atmosphere in the air. And essentially you’re looking at really old coffins, so it’s a little spooky at first, mesmerising kind of like in a horror movie. Some of the statues are epic, the scale of them enthralling. It’s not that big a museum, dependant on your need to read every description or not, it’s easily covered in a couple of hours. But, standing in front of the golden Tutankhamun head piece is surreal. I find these things a little bewildering, it’s on a plinth inside a glass box, you can get within 15cms of it. It is exquisite, as is the boy king’s sarcophagus. Wow, definitely worth the visit.
Hopefully, fingers crossed, I’ll get to those pyramids tomorrow!

Day 21: Cairo – Giza.
We’ve got three things to do today, check the ferry’s running (it’s EID), pickup Rob’s South Sudan visa, and try and see some pyramids.
We fight our way through the Cairo traffic, it’s still unbelievable, probably the worst traffic I’ve encountered anywhere. It just doesn’t move. Ferry checked (it will be running, but two days late), we double back and head for Giza.
My anticipation levels are through the roof, every corner we eventually make it too I’m praying, dreaming, there’s a massive pyramid beyond it. I’ve seen the first road signs ‘Giza Pyramids’. I’m so excited. But after an hour, still no sign.
Rob shouts across some traffic “Look left”. What’s he talking about, that’s just some shops and dust. Another glance (that’s all I can afford in the traffic). Boom! Massive pyramid! Funking sweet, I’m grinning from ear to ear and filled with joy. I can’t remember the last time I was so excited about something. The pyramids are pretty much the only thing I’ve ever wanted to see, and they aren’t a let down. They are magnificent, truly spectacular, my boat is floated .
We barge through a couple of check points, and manage to get our bikes pretty close to the pyramids. Sweet. I’m loving the whole setup, it’s almost as if they were discovered last week. There’s none of the overly organisedness you’d get at most British attractions. There’s donkeys, horses and camels wondering around, no gift shops, no McDs, it’s unspoilt. I’m in my element, mesmerised. We flukily get to the entrance to the Great Pyramid 20 mins before it opens, and we’re first in the queue. Excited! Getting to go in first is epic, the entrance is so bizarre, just a few removed stones randomly in the side of the pyramid, and then a small entrance with a metal gate that’s locked until one. I feel like an explorer. Once released inside, we have a narrow winding passage to navigate, before a 45 degree slope. The slope is like a tunnel that is approx one meter high and one and a half wide, it’s maybe 20m long. And it brings you into a large chamber. Again, the chamber is an upwards slope, approx 45 degrees and 100m long. It’s wider and higher, about 2.5m wide, and the ceiling is horizontal. So I guess in cross section it looks like a wedge. Climb up this, then along a flat tunnel, approx one meter high and 15m long, and you’re in! The tomb. It’s a very strange room, being just that, a room. Kind of like a tall shoebox (perhaps three meters tall), smooth granite walls, with no features. It’s pretty cool though, and so bizarre to be here.
Escaping from the pyramid, Rob has to head back into town to collect his visa. This gives me time to wander about, check out the Sphinx, and then just chill until he returns.
Reunited, we luck into some accommodation, renting someone’s flat for the night for £20. The owner then takes us back to see the ‘Sound and Light’ show. This is brilliant, probably produced in the 70s or 80s. Some really impressive lighting of the Sphinx and pyramids, 100% worth going to see. The narration is as you’d expect of a 50s British animal doc, I’m completely taken in by it all.
If nothing else, the whole trip would’ve been worth it for this!
Luxor tomorrow, and the Valley of the Kings...

Day 22: Giza – Luxor
A pretty cool start to the day, we’re up and in the road by about six, Luxor is a long way away. I’m keen for us to get out of Cairo before traffic starts to build. We fuelled up about 150 miles ago, and as Rob approaches a fuel station, I encourage him to leave it until we’re on the edges of the city. Little did I know, we were on the edge of the city already...About ten miles later Rob has a minor spill, negotiating a tight turn, he over balances and falls. No one’s hurt, and the bike isn’t damaged.
We’ve done really well getting up so early and moving on, we’ve missed all the traffic and are heading south on a motorway. We don’t think we’ll make Luxor, but that’s where we’re heading. My bike’s got a fuel range of approx 250 miles, and as I click the fuel onto the reserve tank, 110 miles after that fuel stop Rob wanted to do, I’m getting really nervous. I’m starting to make plans in my head, we’ve both got a five litre jerry can of fuel strapped to the back of the bike. Perhaps one of us should use both cans, and then head on to try and get enough fuel to get us both going. Thankfully, we hit a town, and on the opposite side of the road we spot a petrol station, and it looks like it has fuel (we stopped at an empty one 50 miles ago). There’s a central reservation separating us, but I reckon there’ll be a station exiting the other side of town too. Feeling rejuvenated, I head on for this other station. Looking in my mirrors, I see Rob doing a u turn. OK, he’s going back, hmm, what should I do, I’ve missed the u turn.
Earlier in the day, cruising down the highway, we stop at a toll booth. Sometimes (usually) they wave us through, on the bikes. This time they want five Egyptian pounds per bike. Rob’s closest, and I’ve got the kitty, so he grabs my wallet and hands the guys a 50. Looks like they’ve only given him 25 back, and Rob is getting angry! Everyone’s getting angry! Rob hands me back my wallet and the notes from the change, and we head on. He’s clearly miffed, shouting at the toll booth guys as he pulls away.
So, I decide to pull over and wait a bit for Rob. No sign of him though, he must’ve gone to that station we passed. A bit annoyed I head back, keeping an eye out for him, but no sign. I pull into the station and he isn’t there. Hmm. Perhaps he then went on and we passed each other on the road. I fill up, have a little laugh to myself at the notes in my pocket, and head after him.
I pass the petrol station on the other side of town, no sign of him there, presumably he’s headed off after me! Who knows, the hilarity is, there’s only one road to Luxor, so one way or another, we’re both on it probably wondering if the other is ahead or behind!
I’ve had a really good time on the road though, some parts of the motorway aren’t surfaced, and they break up the monotony of the day. Kirsty is loving the unsurfaced roads, kicking up a rooster tail of dust and passing all the other vehicles which slow down. And it’s pretty cool to have some riding to yourself and your map. I’m hoping Rob’s OK, I’ve no way of contacting him until this evening.
Safely into Luxor by about four, I find a hotel easily and have a wander. Luxor is immediately preferable to Cairo, much more chilled. And about six Rob emails, he’s made it to Luxor, not sure where he is though. I’m looking forwards to the Valley of the Kings!
Oh, and the change from the toll? Two tens and one 20, they had the change right after all...

Day 24: Luxor – Abu Simbel.
Well, not much you can say about this journey, it’s three hours to Aswan, and then about the same to Abu Simbel. I do get to ride across the Aswan Dam, and actually, riding next to the Nile for most of the day is pretty cool. Once past Aswan, there’s nothing but desert to Abu Simbel. I’ve a mild hangover, and 180 miles of straight featureless road is actually pretty hard work. After 100 miles, I need a break, and so checking there’s no traffic (there hasn’t been much since Aswan), I throw a right and ride out into the desert! Sweet! Riding across the sand is brilliant, there’re no roads, trails or paths. Just sand, me and Kirsty. When you hit about 60 or so, Kirsty gets a little weave going, but it’s OK and a great change from the tarmac. I wish I had a buddy with me on a similar bike so we could just head out into the desert and camp, but I’ve got to be careful, so head back to the road  80 miles later, we hit AS, and follow our nose pretty much straight to the main temple. I get a couple of shots next to the Nasser Lake, and then search a hotel. All sorted, I’ve got about 15 mins before the sound and light show is on at the temple, so we shoot down, grab a ticket and find a seat.
I must say, that this knocks the socks of any movie experience I’ve ever had. IMAX and 3D movies can’t touch this, we’re actually in the movie. When the show starts, just some music and lights, I would recommend coming to Egypt just to see/experience this, it’s epic. Thus far, Egypt has exceeded all my expectations, It’s been glorious...

Day 25: Abu Simbel – Aswan
What a sweet day, with a big slice of hope right in the middle.
Very tired after yesterdays ride, I have a lay in. Up and out of the hotel by about half eight, I’m headed back to the temple at Abu Simbel. This place is unbelievable. It’s about 180 miles from Aswan, straight through the desert, why they settled here I do not know, and building a temple here is crazy. Almost, perhaps even more, is the fact they moved the two temples in the 60’s. Reading the engineering and planning involved is out of this world. The temples had to be moved due to the Aswan Dam, all mightily impressive. The temples are so impressive, definitely a case of you’ve got to see them to believe it. Having said that, there’s not a whole lot to see (although what there is is amazing!), and I’m off after about an hour and a half. I’ve got plenty of time for my ride to Aswan, so every now and then I jump off the road and ride into the desert, it’s such good fun snaking across the sand, or dropping down the banks of the dried up river beds, this is so sweet.
After approx 50 miles, I’m come across the junction to Wadi Halfa and Aswan. I roll through the road block stopping you from heading to Wadi and stop by some troops. I’m keen to see if they’ll let me through. Unsurprisingly they won’t, but encouragingly, the guy in charge says it is possible if you get signed out from Abu Simbel. Hmm, this would be fantastic if it’s true, but as he doesn’t speak much English, and I’ve no Arabic, we could be getting our wires crossed. And I don’t fancy a 100 mile trip if that is the case (my air bladder seat cushion has sprung a leak...). I’m pretty sure Rob hasn’t gotten this far yet, I’ll email him my findings and see if he can investigate when he gets to AS. A brilliant plan! To celebrate, I do some more desert riding, yeee haw!
After about three and a half hours, I’m back in Aswan. Starving hungry as I had no breakfast, and hoping to pick up some wifi, I drop into the McDonald’s overlooking the Nile. No wifi, I’ll have to find a random hotel and work it out from there, when, out of nowhere, Rob rocks up! Perfect timing. He’s in good spirits and been having a good time too. He’s on his way to AS, so I relay my plans, he’s cool with it, and after a 20 minute catch up, we split up again. Turns out that when we separated, he headed into town for fuel, whilst I headed out. All good!