All posts by Jonathan

Jonathan has sailed yachts, flown paragliders and paramotors, and driven through snow, mud and sand in various places around the world. He started out by bungy jumping dressed as a pantomime horse. All this to show being vegan doesn't limit your potential?

The Desert – End of Africa

So this is the final instalment of Vegan Without Frontiers’ African adventure. This week I crossed the Orange River into South Africa and completed my final tasks – bungy jumping from the world’s highest bridge jump, reaching the southernmost tip of Africa, and rolling into Cape Town 10 years after my first attempt.

If you except the last blog update (I couldn’t resist a little April Foolery), I left you back in Namibia wondering whether Troopy’s oil leak would lead to more trouble. Before leaving Namibia I topped up the diff oil and found I’d only lost about 250ml since way back North in Opuwo, so unless the home-made fixes came apart there wasn’t much to worry about. Hopefully. Having a short time to get to Cape Town though meant I’d stuck to the main roads and populated areas in case of trouble. At Springbok I dropped into a Toyota garage, but they didn’t have the needed parts so we headed on South. In the irrigated farmlands half way to Cape Town I stopped for the night at a farm/overlanders campsite before heading on the next day through burning stubble fields, cutting East away from Cape Town to head for the Bloukrans Bridge.

Stubble burning - a reminder of the end of childhood summers back home.
Stubble burning – a reminder of the end of childhood summers back home.

The third bungy jump of the trip has been on my to-do list nearly as long as the Vic Falls, and was an equally special location; above a ravine with forested mountains inland and the surf of the Southern Indian Ocean just below.

Jonathan and Leo about to step off at 216m
Jonathan and Leo about to step off at 216m

I had intended to stay locally for the night and maybe hang out with some other jumpers, but having to drive as well as navigate and find accommodation was a bit too much and I ended up heading back towards Mossel Bay with an increasingly messy oil leak. I almost bailed out and headed straight for African Overlanders in Cape Town, but Mossel Bay Toyota rescued the situation – they had parts, and also time and inclination to help me out. A 2 hour pit-stop later Troopy was leak-free for now and we headed towards Cape Agulhas, where we arrived in the dark at about 10.30pm. The end of the continent. The next day, after some photos to mark our achievement, we headed along the coast into Cape Town.

The end of the continent
The end of the continent

So that was that. Job done. Time to go home.

But back at the beginning of the week as I drove through the highlands of Northern Cape the roads were long and well made. I couldn’t help but reflect on what it felt like to be here and on the last leg of our journey. Previously I had said that the trip was as much about the personal journey as the 36000km of potholed, muddy, dusty, bone-jarringly corrugated and amazing roads we had travelled. It was just as much an adventure with as many highs and lows. So as I passed out of that spectacular landscape into ordered fields of crops – I felt the mission, the adventure and the whole experience had been as magnificent, as stunningly beautiful, as dramatic…and as empty as that desert landscape.

What do we have from life but a collection of memories? And memories not shared are lost as soon as they are stored. This journey was a joint undertaking, and I am finishing it alone. Did we succeed? I’m sure we had some positive impact but in the end we set out to do something and WE are not here to finish it. So as I drove into Cape Town there was a sense of satisfaction, at a job done, and a fair amount of relief! It was not the triumphant joyful crossing of the finish line that might have been. As you will gather from a forthcoming blog, I have done a lot of reflecting in this last 2 weeks – on the things we have seen in our journey across Africa and what we can or can’t do to make the world a better place. About human psychology and our judging our own efforts against others rather than our potential. So whilst the April 1st blog was a wind-up (sorry Mum for scaring you!), there was truth in what I said. As I reached the Southernmost tip of Africa, and as I crossed the finishing line in Cape Town the following day, there were many mixed emotions. I slapped Troopy on the side – YESSSS, we made it!! But from a personal viewpoint it feels like a fail – crossing the line without your team is not a cause for celebration.

So to those questions I was looking to answer – what does it mean to finish? Well I think I answered that – it feels good to have completed the task; there is a lot of satisfaction on having reached Cape Town and survived all those adventures along the way. I hope we have put to bed some of those fallacies about it being difficult to be vegan – anywhere. But the experience also underlined for me that it is easy to be complacent and think we have done enough – there is always more we could do. I hope our experiences will help us do that in future.

Its quite big, this universe thing...
Its quite big, this universe thing…

Will it make a difference? Who knows – it is hard to say whether the balance of our good impact through spreading a positive message outweighs the negative impact of driving a 4×4 vehicle across Africa (and perhaps leading others to do the same – who knows what lessons and inspiration others may get from this?). Not to mention flying half way round the world and shipping the car.

We all need to feel a purpose I think. But looking at the night sky these last 2 weeks, seeing the absolute vastness of the universe out there, it is impossible not to feel tiny and insignificant. What does it matter what we do? In the grand scheme of things we are nothing so why worry or bother? But at the same time, our life is all we have. Maybe in all this chaos a butterfly flapping its wings can be the start of something big. Elena flapped her wings with all her might in her brief time with us. All I can do, and it is why I carry on, is to flap my own as hard as I can to give her efforts a boost on their way before I am allowed to join her.

Sometimes it seems that whatever I do ends up having negative consequences. I guess that’s the thing with butterfly wings, they are a bit random and rather at the whim of the weather. But what else is a butterfly to do? Flap, point in the right direction and hope the gusts we ride can be nudged in the right direction.

(not) Cape Town update…April 1st Special!

Well as you can probably see from the map, I nearly made it to Cape Town but then headed East. I’ve had a change of plan – getting to Cape Town was our aim from the start, but as I got closer it just seemed not right to be getting here on my own without Katana. It would have been a hollow victory – we set out as a team, and we should finish as a team or not at all. Crossing the finish line without your team is a failure in my book.

So, I took Leo to see the Indian Ocean. And rather than go to Cape Town, we will now be heading North again – I think its time Leo went home to Tanzania. We got here by road and maybe we should head home the same way…I’m sure Troopy would prefer it that way rather than being shipped home in a box!

Looks like it will be some time before I get to have another Tofush and Chips in Soho. Incidentally, anyone know what the French would call ‘Tofush’ this time of year?

UPDATE: Ok for those of you who didn’t get the fishy reference above…welcome to on-the-road-solo humour…today was always booked as Bungy Day at Bloukrans – me and Leo had a nice jump and are now heading West again as planned towards Cape Agulhas.

We survived the world's highest bridge bungy!
We survived the world’s highest bridge bungy!

 

 

Meetings on the Road (Mariental to the Orange River)

Today was quite a day, and probably deserved a blog post all itself. It started with a drive through the desert on rough tracks through alternating sunshine and fog banks, followed by a relatively short drive South on gravel roads to the banks of the Orange River. At this point I have to admit to having a little emotional moment – there on the opposite bank was South Africa. The last country. It is not easy to describe or even understand the feelings you get at moments like this – but a little later in the day when I met a lone cyclist, who turned out to be on the last leg of an epic bike ride from Sweden to Cape Town, he also spoke of his mixed feelings on approaching this same border. I’m guessing he’ll be crossing the river tomorrow.

Chance Meeting at a crossroads - www.swedentoafrica.com
Chance Meeting at a crossroads – www.swedentoafrica.com

If it weren’t for the fact that his intended crossing point was a ferry, motorbikes only (no Landcruisers), I was tempted to head back the same way to talk some more. But as it was, after 20 minutes or so exchanging tales, we set off in opposite directions towards the same place. I am now camping by the Orange River a hundred or two kilometres further South East and will make my final border crossing in the morning.

Further up the road towards Fish River Canyon, I met a bunch of nice lasses who stopped and chatted about our travels and being vegan/veggie on the road, and how nice Mozambique is…only a slightly sore point, that.

Another meeting on the road to Fish River Canyon
Another meeting on the road to Fish River Canyon

It was good to meet people today – to share experiences, and it also took my mind of the continuing worry of Troopy’s oil leak (I need to top up the rear diff oil before heading off in the morning!). In fact its been a good part of travelling solo – I have been talking to lots of random people.

Going back a little – the trip from Mariental to Luderitz was my first crossing of the Fish River, quite wide even that far North, though little more than a trickle between thunderstorms – we are in the land of dust and flash floods here.

First Crossing of the Fish River
First Crossing of the Fish River

Then as the landscape gradually changed from fields, to thick scrub, to desert I was pleased to see my favourite variety of antelope – Gemsbok – along with Zebra. By the time I came to the last 120km I was crossing the Southern Namib desert and it was pretty much sand, rock and more sand. I’ve even made a time lapse video of the experience so you can all join in – 2 minutes, rather than an hour and a half sound OK? I’ll post that on youtube HERE! Reaching the Atlantic again was just as cold as last time, though no surprise this time round.

Having found the campsite in Luderitz and picked a spot overlooking the harbour a German couple in a Landrover turned up and we shared some G&Ts and tales. I was a little jealous as the next day they were heading up through the dunes to Walvis Bay, a route which we weren’t able to take because a storm had washed the beach away in November. They also made me hungover and running low on gin (well that’s my excuse!).

On the upside, they suggested a campsite and a nice route towards Fish River Canyon, and they were spot on – and I found myself camping in an arid wilderness with a swimming pool. That is where I set off from this morning. The road along the Orange River was entertaining and picturesque, before the road North towards the canyon struck out straight across another vast, flat gravelly expanse of desert. I tried to take photos of Fish River Canyon, but its one of those things you just can’t get the feeling of HUGE scale from unless you are there.

The Fish River, but bigger!
The Fish River, but bigger!

Its big. Accompanied by thunder and lighting, it was a fair way to sign off Namibia. Tomorrow South Africa, first stop (I hope!) a car parts shop in Springbok!

Windhoek South

Well, we are back on the road again. I was pleased to find Troopy in as good condition as we left him, though 2 thoughts went through my mind when I got in again for the first time;

1. Its dirty in here – we cleaned the inside before we left, but the dust is still everywhere, and obviously on-the-road clean is not the same as London-clean!

2. Its SMALL in here – how did we ever manage to live in such a small space for 6 months?

The first night back was spent at the Trans Kalahari Inn – an evening discussing population, farming, and their menu with the owner over some local wheat beers (they are updating the menu to show vegan options now – they used to put cheese in things even though it didn’t say so on the menu). Next morning it was time to head South again, via Windhoek for some stocking up on supplies. You’ll also notice the Map page has changed – I am now using a mobile app to update the location over mobile phone network so I had to get a local SIM for the data. Somehow the satellite tracker went AWOL in the office back in London the day of departure, but this seems to work OK as well (just click on the link to see the map in Google Maps if they haven’t enabled the embedded map yet).

So how is it to be back? Its familiar – I took a detour on the dirt roads to take in some sand dunes, and remembered to photograph a Weaver bird nest for my mum. Troopy is also being familiar – the rear left driveshaft is showing signs of oil again, but nothing too bad so far. I’ve given myself a No.3 all over African-weather haircut, and then started to regret it when it got dark and the temperature plummeted! I did experiment with some starlight photography – it was good to see the Southern Cross again showing me which way to go.

Camping Under African Skies
Camping Under African Skies

For breakfast it was the familiar porridge – complete with Katana’s favourite topping of soy sauce. I always preferred jam on mine, but I left that off my shopping list, so soy sauce it was. Sipping coffee while waiting for the wood fire to heat the water for a shower on the veranda of my campsite at Bastion Farmyard was a nice change to the Central Line. This morning I will be heading on South towards Luderitz, but depending on the progress divert towards Fish River Canyon – Luderitz would require a backtrack of a couple of hundred kilometres as there’s only 1 way in or out, and I was never keen on doing the same bit of trail twice!

I’ve Started so I’ll Finish…

So for this last part of the Vegan Without Frontiers blog things are going to be a little different. As I’m starting on a 2 week final episode, I will hope to not only report back on the experience as it happens, but also to reflect on how we got here and whether we achieved any of those aims we set out with. Maybe we achieved other things too, and maybe there’s lessons to learn?

I’ve been through a whole range of emotions these last few months – going to work to pay off the costs of our adventures so far while trying to look ahead to the future. Having this unfinished business hanging over me has made it tough to make progress. There was definitely a temptation to just pay someone to deal with shipping Troopy back from Namibia and get on with the next thing, but I managed to resist that way out.

Leo in London
Of course, Leo will be joining me…

So here I am getting on a plane tonight back to Namibia with a mission to complete, and a lot of questions about life I’ll probably never be able to answer. Commitment? What does it mean to finish? When things don’t turn out as you hoped, why do you carry on? When you can’t see the point anymore, do you just keep going because you set out to do it? OK so most of those questions are about more than this trip, they are questions that I ask on a daily basis since losing Lena. But maybe I can come up with some of the answers between here and Cape Town. To borrow a catchphrase, I’ve started so I’ll finish.

It was all so different back in November when Katana and I reaffirmed our commitment to the mission, to each other and to ourselves – to come back and finish as a team. But then I’ve been here before on the other side – almost literally – 10 years ago I left my crewmates in Australia and came back to Europe as they set out on the leg of the race from Sydney to Cape Town. I had good reasons – injury, finances and the need to be here for my new wife all played a part in my decision. I still believe it was the right one back then. But the failure to finish what I had set out to do still hurt at the time and has in some way been hanging over me ever since.

I do wonder about commitment and finishing – and how my crewmates felt about me leaving back then. I think they understood, but I never fully considered what they felt about it. I guess it wouldn’t have made a difference to my decision, but understanding our fellow humans is never a bad thing is it?

But what does  it mean to me to finish? Without my friends – my crewmates and Katana? And without my best Lenachka? I don’t know what it will feel like to get to the end – its a bit scary to be honest – but I’ll let you know in a couple of weeks when I finally drive into Cape Town.