Day 11: Port Nolloth to side of road.

I woke up to a day unlike any other I had experienced so far on my trip. It was raining a bit. I almost felt like staying just to keep out of the rain. Man, how things have changed compared to the end of my journey. But I decided I have the rain jacket, let’s just do this. It all changes once you actually commit to going out there. You get ready, get warm and get going, and it’s not actually as bad as it seems when you looking out at the world, all warm and comfy.

Let's do this thing!!!!!

The rain was a constant drizzle and I didn’t find it that bad. It was only once I had gotten about 5 kms down the road towards Alexander Bay which was my target for the day, that I realized that this day was a bit shit. And that reason was the wind. I was now riding straight into a strong headwind, with the drizzle just to sweeten the deal.  Soon I was wet not just because of the rain, but because of the perspiration being trapped inside my rain jacket. I thought, ‘This is a load of crap. This thing is supposed to keep water out, and now it’s trapping my sweat in making my shirt all wet and my arms all cold. What a joke.’ Then my jacket got soaked through from the rain. Fail. So much for that.

The drizzle was somewhat on and off the whole time.The wind, on. Always. I ended up swearing at the wind many many times. All to no avail of course. It just laughed back at me with its invisible force. I realized that I was actually suffering trying to reach my destination which was about another 40kms away or so. I was trying to peddle so hard into the wind that I ended up just tiring myself out. Eventually I surrendered and said screw it, you win wind.

Rot in hell you windy bitch. Haha. You pathetic mortal and your pointless rants.

I decided to call it a day after 5 hours and only 40kms. So I pulled off to the side of the road and saw a sign leading to some camp site but that was miles away. Again I said stuff it and just camped as far from the road as possible alongside the fence. Probably 30m I guess. Once I got into my tent I felt relieved but I couldn’t help but feel that today just sucked so much because I couldn’t hit my target as I had done so since the beginning, all because of some stupid wind. In a way I felt like I had almost fallen behind on my trip. Looking back, that is such a silly and naïve thing to think. As much as trying to hit my ‘checkpoints’ each day was admirable in some little way, the road starts to lead you slowly as I would find out later. Also you can't fight something as strong as a headwind sometimes. The best is to just call it a day sometimes. Little did I know how this ‘set back’ would work itself out in my favour the next day. I had survived my first rain day and I wouldnt have another one for quite some time.

Distance: 40kms