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20th January 2007
Location: London, England
Distance Travelled: 21 525 km
WE MADE IT!!
One hundred and sixty eight days after leaving Capetown we have reached the end, the African Odyssey has now concluded it’s epic adventure!
No more sleepless nights on rocky ground, no more mosquito bites and no more nagging bowel movements. But also no more chance meetings with fascinating Africans, no more learning about foreign cultures nor languages and no more cruising on our bikes towards the next wild frontier. It’s a new beginning for the Odyssey members as we rejoin the world in our own directions, now unhindered by group decision making.
The final stretch from Lyon presented plenty of what we had feared from Europe: freezing temperatures, super high winds and rain. Juls collected a great birthday present from Jean Moulin 3rd Lyon University he studied at previously; his official PhD certificate. Presents finished we then confronted a huge days ride from France’s second largest city which ensured we arrived mid evening, shivering cold, into the city, Troyes. As seems to have happened so often during this trip, we were shown extraordinary kindness from strangers as Rey and Ellen welcomed us into their home. They introduced us to the French tradition of “Cake and a Crown”, but in a travesty of justice Juls was denied the throne on his birthday.
Defrosted and enjoying the sanctuary of our hosts home we left late the next day and after a quick but pleasant night in Reims, we were gunning it for Calais; the gateway to Great Britain. Mother Nature, however, had other ideas. We were buffeted by galing 130km/h winds all day and had to stop and wait out the weather a couple of times as rain pelted down and the wind threatened to blow us off the road. We were within 50 km of Calias when the weather turned so bad that we couldn’t go on – marooned in the countryside. Just as dark started to set in, the weather broke momentarily, so we gratefully took the opportunity and covered the final stretch like mice when the cat sleeps.
We woke Thursday, still a day before our ferry booking, to find that all ferries had been cancelled due to high winds and huge waves. Juls and Mungo ventured into nature’s power taking the camera out for more Extreme Documentary Footage, buffeted by sand and seaspray. We later learnt watching the news that French TV had similar ideas showing all our shots we’d taken. Friday, our last chance to cross to make the arrival party on Saturday. In a stroke of Odyssey luck our last day in France dawned clear blue, allowing us to cross to Dover, 75 Miles from London. We spent the second to last night of the trip enjoying quiet drinks and talking about what the future held post-Odyssey.
-Phill planned to stay on and work in the United Kingdom having job interviews on the Monday
-Mungo was to visit a brother snowboarding in France and return home within a month
-Juls planned to look for work in England and abroad to pay off his debt to the New Zealand IRD
-Nic planned to head back to New Zealand after a month of earning the Pound to begin on the doco
Life was becoming all too real... were we really ready for this jump forward?
We met Josh Twaddle at Tower Bridge for some filming. He followed in a Taxi, us darting among the Audi’s, the Porsche’s, the Austin Martin’s and the other shiney new cars of first world economy. We got hold of Sausage, our main man on party detail, getting the run down of the nights’ proceedings. We stalled in a pub, waiting for 7 or 8pm. We ate Cod & Chips at a Greek owned Chippie. We got a beer in another pub. Very quickly drank the beer because now late. Sausage: "See you at 8, and don’t be late!" It was 8:05... Nerves built up from six months riding now reared their heads.
On the bikes one last time riding together. Riding past the queing traffic. Engines revving. Us yelling. Past the big red buses. Sausage lay ahead waiting for us. He stopped us and ran back in to choreograph the arrival with music. Signal was go, go, go GO GO GO GO!!!! The lights were red but that didn’t matter. Around the corner. There it lay, a hole in the side of a building. Inside were the warm dim orange lights of an English pub and a mass of people all looking at us.
Us inside, the bikes took us in. Revving engines and yelling people and clapping and cheering and whistling filled the room in harmony. These people were as pleased as we were to be here. Look at their faces!!! They’re loving it!!!
The champagne came. In true motor race finishing tradition we sprayed anyone close to us. We hugged anyone close to us. Yelling and cheersing and laughing we had smiles no one could take away, they were six months earnt. The night progressed into a barrage of short story reminiscing and recollections. Too many conversations were cut short, too many were left wanting more stories. But this was party time. This was celebration time and what a better way to mark an occasion and the end than to shave. Standing on a self made stage with a pair of scissors we were debearded, we were pirates no more.
Unfortunately midshave the pub lights-on-music-off we were to leave. Shaving shifted into overdrive with teams now tackling the patchy remnants with 20 disposable razors for £3. By the time we’d finished only a few stayers remained, not many saw our especially bought suits we’d purchased for the occasion. The Odyssey, now smartly dressed, was out on the road once more in search of something new. This time perhaps not as epic as the previous goal, but a new adventure nonetheless.
In the morning we regrouped back at the Larrik wearing the same suits and said our farewells. Goodbye African Odyssey, till next time.
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