East is the beast

As I sit in an Internet "cafe" in Gedaref, the last decent sized town in Sudan before Ethiopia, I begin to hear loud bass pumping through the wall. I continue to check my e-mails, facebook and what happened in the Six Nations at the weekend rugby results. But something is definitely going on. The clunky internet access finally shows me the end of an interview with Brian O'Driscoll and this allows me to let my curiosity get the better of me. So I pop out for a yoghurt. A crowd has gathered on the corner of the street, and in the background there is definitely something on fire.

On closer inspection, the crowd is surrounding three singers who are all wearing Omar al-Bashir t-shirts while some other musicians are playing in the background a type of music that I can't say I've ever heard before. There is a large video screen above the singers also displaying Mr Al-Bashir waving his arms and speaking to various people. There are some men directly in front of the singers in turbans and Jalabiyas waving long sticks over their heads. Flames are now bellowing out of some metal thing in the background. I think a cook has lost control of his oven, but for the interests of story telling I am keeping the possibility of pre-riot arson open. I head back into the internet cafe, no longer worrying about how to start this blog posting.

It's been a crappy couple of days. When we left Khartoum on Saturday afternoon, the weather was repulsively hot. Duncan wasn't convinced that his thermometer's reading of 52 degrees was accurate... The salt crystals forming on his lycra suggested otherwise. I had earlier jammed ice cubes into my drinking bottles, but within half an hour the water inside them was hot. My body must be working some serious overtime to keep me at a reasonable temperature.

To make matters worse, while cycling last night to avoid the heat, one of Linsey's front pannier racks decided to give way, ripping through 4 spokes and sending her bike flying - fortunately the road was quiet... We flagged the first passing truck which took us to a town down the road. The wheel was badly damaged, and when we took the rack to a joiner the next day he simply said "this... is finished." We were aggressively charged money by a man who seemed to be doing us a favour and had another man cause a puncture by adjusting the tyre valve for no reason. And this heat just does not subside.

Things in the east of Sudan have not quite seemed the same as the other parts that we've passed through. One man who helped us find a bus to take us to Gedaref where we could fix the bike properly did not mention the full cost of taking all our stuff. "I'm telling you this is the price"... "No-one understands why you come here"... "People want to get out of Sudan". Despite all the positive experiences of the last 3 weeks, right now I don't blame them. The heat would appear to be getting to everything and everyone.

A decent hotel and shower this evening have made things better and the music has actually cheered me up a bit, even if it has been sponsored by the world's first ICC-indicted world leader. Now I just need to get back to my room...

Next stop Ethiopia!