UPDATED May 6, 2026 BY Guest Author IN Tour d'Afrique no comments Carried By The Iron Horse Across AfricaMasoud Riyazati was the Content Creator on the 2026 Tour dAfrique Cycling Expedition.In Nostalghia, a movie by Tarkovsky, a man walks across an empty pool holding a candle, and his task is to walk across the pool without the flame going out. He tries once. The flame goes out. He returns to the beginning and tries again, and this repeats over and over. The task is simple. But it demands everything. This scene is a cinematic version of life on a long-distance cycling tour.You start riding. Then something goes wrong. You get a flat tire. You fix it and you continue. Your bike breaks. You fix it and continue. You run out of water. You fill the bottles and continue. You wake up the next day and everything repeats.Over and over. Again and again. Nothing changes. And yet, everything does._________________________________________About three months ago, a group of strangers met for the first time with one goal: to cross Africa on their iron horse. In Khoekhoegowab, a click language spoken in Namibia, the bicycle is called iron horse. A simple name. But it felt like the right name for what carried us all the way from Egypt to South Africa.The 7,170-kilometre journey started in Egypt, then moved through Kenya, Tanzania, Malawi, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Namibia, and South Africa. Each country had its own character.Egypt with its pyramids and endless yellow deserts.Kenya and the Maasai lands.Tanzania and Malawi, with their busy roads and children who run beside you, asking questions.The rusty bicycles that carry a family.Zambia and Zimbabwe, with their lush, green landscapes, climbs, and challenging roads.Botswana, with elephants casually walking on the road or standing by the roadside.Namibia Oh Namibia! An otherworldly, timeless place that feels like a different planet.And South Africa, a vibrant country with a complex and controversial history.Just like the countries, each person had their own character. We had people in their 30s and their 70s. Twenty-seven-year-old Ana and seventy-four-year-old Clyde. Fiona, with no experience in long-distance cycling. Adam, on a personal quest to take a new direction in life. Ralf, a retired engineer who was sometimes even faster than our trucks to reach the next campsite. His pace, from start to finish, was steady. And Fred, an enthusiastic doctor who joined us in Victoria Falls, was soon loved by everyone.They all had the same map, the same route, but different reasons to be here.And Africa, in its own way, gives something different to each of them._________________________________________We had storms that followed us wherever we went. Rain that stayed. Days when our tents filled with water and sand, poles bending under the wind.In Botswana, the night before the 217 km ride, my tent flooded, and there was nothing I could do. I lay in my tent, soaked, listening to the constant rhythm of water, hoping it would stop. It didnt. It carried on through the night. By morning, it was a shared experience. The campsite had turned into mud and scattered gear. You look around and see sleepless faces that still have to ride 217 kilometres.And then Namibia. The biggest surprise for all of us. You expect the desert to be dry. It wasnt. We were wrong. The storms kept coming. Some days, they never really left. Not to mention, we saw a river running beside the desert dunes._________________________________________Riding through shifting sand, corrugation, gravel, tarmac, rocks, and even riverbeds, across rugged plains, teaches you that survival is not just physical. It is about mental strength and finding joy in small, sometimes uncomfortable moments. Trusting that, in its own way, the road will provide.Like the day we were heading to Canyon Farmyard. The dam overflowed, and the road turned into a river. No way back, no way forward, but the road led us to a gin distillery, where the owner let us stay for the night. That unexpected change became one of the best experiences for all of us. Warm shelter, gins made with local flavours, and a quiet happiness on everyones faces._________________________________________These moments along the journey make the ride less about distance and more about the stories each person carries with them. You begin to hear them. Not all at once, not in big moments, but slowly, over days.People talk about their lives. About things they left behind. About things they are still trying to understand. And sometimes, they speak about people who are not here. Someone they wish they could share a moment with. A memory that returns unexpectedly in the middle of nowhere.One day, Fred and I sat together and talked. As we shared parts of our personal stories, he told me he misses someone. Someone very special to him. He wished she were here, to see what he sees every day.At some point, he showed me a message he had written to her. With his permission, I share it:_________________________________________Quote: Many years ago, I gave you a book called On the Loose at a coffee shop across the street from the Childrens Hospital. This old Sierra Club book is about sharing wilderness experiences together. I believe you too would have loved the torrential rain, lightning, and streams of water that overcame the campsite. All of my gear was soaked. I managed to find a chair in a tool shed, where I was fully committed to sleeping, before the crew found me and brought a tarp, mattress, and sleeping blanket into the shed. The sheds roof was leaky, but that didnt matter, because the raindrops were caught in a bucket. Oh, how I wish you and I had experienced the storm together. I believe you too would have loved the evening and sharing the experience.I believe some of us have similar messages written to someone special, but never sent._________________________________________Finally, there it is. The last day. One last early alarm.Packing up your wet tent.Checking the tires.Filling your water bottles.Getting on the bike with a tired body.Looking at the sky.Looking for Coke stops.For the lunch truck.For the hot soup waiting at the end of the day.Bucket showers.The small rituals that quietly held everything together.A long journey where each day opened a new, unfamiliar world._________________________________________As we approached the final city, Cape Town, a mix of emotions took hold. Relief, a quiet sense of happiness, sadness, accomplishment, and a question about how tomorrow will look when this is all over.Our stories continue, but we carry something from each other.And maybe that is what remains.In the words of Nelson Mandela: What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.RELATEDTOURTour d'Afrique The trans-African crossing from Cairo to Cape Town has long been one of the worlds epic journeys and an iconic goal for global adventurers. Over... Related Posts:Leave a Comment for "Carried By The Iron Horse Across Africa" Cancel reply