fred hatman

OK. So it turns out that Geoff “Heartman” Brink, our intrepid and totally nutty unicyclist who is fixed-wheel pedalling all the way to Cape Town, has a good dose of Afrikaner in him.

This doesn’t surprise me. Although he’s been maintaining for some time that he’s one part Scottish, one part Viking (whatever that means). I mean, the longer we are on this madness of a Heart and Sole Tour – and the longer we travel the byways and dirt roads of our wondrous South Africa – the more he acts really boor… I mean, Boer-ish. He’s gone all feral on me.

It (The Unicyclist) speaks to cows, yells at hills, neighs at horses… and, if that weren’t enough, it held a long conversation with a very amiable and supportive Afrikaans-speaking geezer what called himself Jacques the other day. While chewing biltong at the same time. All rather perplexing, if not downright alarming, for a back-up driver/blogger/kiepie who is a regte soutpiel (English-speaking South African) brought up of Anglo-Scottish stock in Pietermaritzburg, widely considered to be the Last British Outpost.

So I wasn’t completely shocked when, upon finding evidence of buck droppings the other day, Meneer Brink challenged me to a bokdrol spoeg kompetisie. A what?! Er, that translates to “buck droppings spitting competition”. Afraid so. There’s no getting away from it. And there was no chance of me getting away from it. We do challenges – and sticking a perfectly-formed and rounded piece of buck crap – which looks like an earthy Ferrero Rocher – in one’s gob and seeing how far one can propel it using one’s power of lung expulsion seems perfectly normal behaviour. Um. Well, it does when you’ve been following a very feral unicyclist around the country for a month and a half.

OK. So it was game on, old chap. And may the man who can spit a piece of buck crap the furthest win. Let us – if you can bring yourself to do it – see what that looked like…

The presentation of the deer dung to be used as ammo in the shoot-wild-animal-crap-out-of-the-mouth contest. Yum.

Up first, The Unicyclist... and his best bokdrol spoeging effort reaches a distance of 4.52 metres. Impressive!

Next up, The Back-up Driver... and, wait, his pea-shooting experience at Pelham Primary School proves to come in handy as he propels the impala poop a full 5.06 metres! Wholly crapness!

Not bad for a Engelsman who didn’t grow up on a farm eating half a cow for breakfast and not wearing shoes until he went to university, hey? And even more formidable a victory when it is considered that The Unicyclist doesn’t drink or smoke and is as fit as a butcher’s dog while the Back-up Driver does both the former to Richard Burton-like excess. And, it must be said, is about as fit as the butcher.

OK. so we’re all rather relieved that that little malarkyness is over. Well, almost over. How did this most indecorous of games come about? Well, it had got far too hot to ride a unicycle, as tends to happen every day, and we went off-road to seek some shade. We thought it rather cool to do that in a game reserve and plonked our mattresses under a tree near the reception office and promptly fell aslumber.

Only to be woken up by the “executive chef” of Kichari Game Reserve doing a Gordon Ramsay impersonation and shrieking at us to wake up and get inside the building. We were then chided for sleeping in a spot where elephants, rhino and lions are known to roam! And had pointed out to us a nearby tree that had clearly been used as a back-scratching post for a jumbo. There wasn’t much of said tree remaining. Our midday nap was rather ruined and the bokdrol spoegery ensued. Now you know.

And want to know something else? We had no sooner got back on to the road for a spot of marathon unicycling when we he heard an unmistakeable roar. The Unicyclist fell off his one-wheeled steed, I nearly ran over him, we both grabbed our cameras and ran to the side of the road. This is what we saw…

Ahem. Imagine waking up under a tree in a game reserve to find this feller peering down at you? I did. Not nice!

Right. Well, where to next? Somewhere a little more gentle, perhaps. Oh, yes. We saw a nice sunset. Again. Here you go…

Quite nice.

Hang on. What’s that black speck just above the horizon? Let’s have a closer look…

Mmmm. I think we have ourselves a bird flying through the setting sun. Let's see if I can crop in a tad on that chap?

Yes. A bird all right. How good of it to fly into shot at just the right time. I do like it when that happens. When nature decides to co-operate with my persistent efforts to get a decent snap. Nice.

There. That wasn’t so bad after all, was it? No. You’re right. it wasn’t. So all’s well that ends well (a saying that just came to me in a flash and, yes, do feel free to use it as the mood takes you). I just can’t be sure that I’ll be getting to kiss anybody anytime soon!

“You’re a braver man than me.”

Mmmm. When somebody says this, it doesn’t necessarily mean much. But when it comes out of the mouth of Bruce Fordyce, Comrades Marathon legend, you have every right be feel a bit chuffed.

This is what nine-times Comrades winner Fordyce said to Geoff “Heartman” Brink – and he’s had a smile on his face ever since. I was witness to this stunning pronouncement. Heartman and I had spotted Baddaford Farm Stall nestling among shady trees on the side of the road heading towards Fort Beaufort and the word “Coffee” performed a lightning coup of our minds.

We had no sooner walked in and met owner Jane Roberts when Mr Fordyce strolled in and raised an inquiring eyebrow at AmaOneTyre, Heartie’s trusty unicycle which has carried him over 700km from Durban towards Cape Town, our final destination. Heartie explained what it required to get on to a unicycle, stay on it and ride the distance that he has. This precipitated in his comment and it is inspiration such as this that will carry Heartie the rest of the way to the Mother City. Pure awesomeness.

Here is the picture…

Comrades legend Bruce Fordyce and old Heartie launch their mutual admiration society outside beautiful Baddaford farm stall

Now, let me tell you a bit about Baddaford. Because our association with this beautiful oasis didn’t stop there. It stopped three days later in Grahamstown. After Jane had given us not only free coffee but a lunch on the house. After she had invited us to spend a night or two at the splendid and very old stone house that she shares with husband Jonathan, a farmer of citrus and pecan nuts.

But Jonny also rides a bike. Very passionately. And, in his fifties, was recently challenged into doing his first Iron Man competition when his son said there was no way he could do it. You don’t tell Jonathan Roberts he can’t do something. He did it. And he did it amazingly well. And he and Jane did a phenomenal job of looking after us. There was nothing they wouldn’t do to help us recover from the rigours of the Heart and Sole Tour. They housed us. They fed us. They helped us. To the extent of escorting us in their car safely over the tricky and testing Ecca Pass and into Grahamstown.

We will never forget the kindness and comradeship extended to us by Jonny and Janey Roberts of Baddaford Farm. Enjoy a gander at the beautifulness of our experience…

The Heartman, Jane and Jonathan at the creeper-covered entrance to their gorgeous old stone house, built on Baddaford farm by Jonathan's great-grandfather. The house burned down in 1928 after an ostrich, which was nesting with its chicks under the house, knocked over a lamp and started the blaze. It has been beautifully restored. Take my word for that!

A water stop on the road to Grahamstown ends in a scrumming contest between Hatman and Heartman with Jonny Roberts at scrum-half. Result? Hatman won. Watch out, John Smit!

The Heart & Sole tour finally rolls into Grahamstown and Jane Roberts has to waste perfectly good spring weater on an overheated Heartman. Eish!

* The Heartman and would also like to thank these people for their phenomenal help: Chris and Sally Purdon of Red Angus Farm and Glenfinlas B&B (between Cathcart and Seymour); Sam and Sandy of the Katberg Hotel at the Katberg Eco Golfing Resort, Brian and Elvira of The Old Gaol B&B in Grahamstown, Cindy and Francesca of Bartholomews B&B, Grahamstown, and the mercurial Martina Gilli of the Live Music Society at Rhodes University who went to great lengths to help raise awareness among her fellow students of the objectives of our Heart and Sole Tour. Further fantasticness from wonderful South Africans!

I have so many stories to tell on this rather neglected Heart and Sole Tour blog that I don’t know where to start.

So I’ll start here. I am staring out of the window of yet another B&B at a beautiful bougainvillea. Its flowers are a rich colour. I don’t know. Purple? Pink? Possibly crimson red? All of those. Magenta. Yes, that’s it. Over and above this abundant diffusion of magenta is the lichen-encrusted slate roof of what I think is St Bartholomew’s church in Grahamstown.

This view is enriching. As it is to be in Grahamstown, which seems terribly civilised after days of hard and sweaty slog on the hills and mountain passes of the road which brought our unicycling madness down from Cathcart in the Eastern Cape.

It has been hard. It has been beautiful. And it has been, yes, enriching. When Geoff “Heartman” Brink and I rolled out of Durban on December 28, we did not dare to dream that this magical mystery tour would bring us so much enrichment. And, thankfully, this has brought me a theme for this post. Children. How much they enrich our lives!

And how they have enriched this Heart and Sole unicycle tour from Durban to Cape Town. Most of us see our first unicycle when the circus comes to town, ridden as it is by a clown called Charlie with a big red nose, pancaked face and blue pantaloons. We appear to have reached places in South Africa where no circus or unicycling Charlie has gone before. For these children, The Heartman’s “bicycle that has lost a wheel” is greeted with disbelief and no little delight.

Allow me to illustrate this for you, may I?

See? The Heartman and his "AmaOneTyre" have this kind of effect on children...

We saw this little school in the middle of a field outside Queenstown and rode down the dirt road leading to it. This is the welcome we received!

These Balmoral schoolgirls, fresh from a swimming gala, were waiting in biting cold at the top of a mountain pass to cheer us on!

The Heartman was asked if he wouldn't mind telling the children of Yellowwoods Primary, near Fort Beaufort, what on earth he was doing riding a unicycle from Durban to Cape Town. He seized the opportunity to tell the kids that, when doing something to tell the world about the horror of landmines, it's worth attempting to achieve what may at first appear impossible!

This little sweetheart seemed entranced by The Heartman's tales of derring-do! Pictures: Hatman

Children. Too much of beautifulness. If this Heart and Sole Tour has inspired just one of these children to begin to grasp that riding a unicycle 1,900km across South Africa (or doing something similarly unconventional) can help a little to improve the world in which they live, then our crazy and wondrous roadtrip will have achieved a lot more than simply alert some people to the devastation that landmines continue to cause.

This, for us, is enrichment on a grand scale.

* Old Heartie and I are about to perform live on behalf of the Rhodes University Live Music Society at an “O Week” event for new enrolments on campus. More on that and how a wonderful couple – Jonathan and Jane Roberts – lifted us up and then carried The Heart & Sole Tour over the notorious Ecco Pass and into Grahamstown later!

Hello. We’re in Seymour. Or perhaps not.

Confused? Look. We’re either in Seymour, near Seymour or nowhere near Seymour at all. There is also a strong possibility that Seymour doesn’t exist.

Our mapbook suggested that we head for Seymour in order to, sometime in the next couple of days, reach Fort Beaufort. That’s in the Eastern Cape and on our route to Grahamstown. Which, since we’ve both been there in the past, does exist. Unless they’ve moved it somewhere else.

The thing about Seymour is that we just haven’t seen it. Or seen any roadsigns that might suggest that we’re on our way to it, are in or near it… or, yes, that it might exist at all.

What does exist is the Jan Malan Pass which, according to the locals in Cathcart, goes through Seymour, around it or near it. If it exists. We know the Jan Malan Pass exists because, not only did we see a sign, but we climbed it. To one thousand three hundred and something feet above sea level. And old Heartman knows he unicycled up the three hundred feet bit from Cathcart to wherever it is we are now, Seymour or not.

Focus, folks. That’s three hundred vertical feet covered in 30km from Cathcart to a mythical place locals refer to as Seymour. Impressive stuff from The Heartman. Again.

And that’s why he’s been sleeping for 12 hours while I’ve been watching horses and cows jostle for turf outside the window of the bedroom I slept in last night. The moos outweighed the neighs. Angus stock, you see. Beautiful beasts. The farm is called Glenfinlas (owned by the kindly Chris and Sally Purdon) and it is quite stunning in its sumptuousness. It could easily be set in the Natal Midlands such are the lush, green and rolling hills which peer over this valley.

In fact, I woke up thinking I was in the Scottish Highlands. Magnificent shards of mist were snake-hipping down the mountains, covered in heather for all I know, and the temperature was 9 deg C. I mean, this is January in the southern hemisphere, not J-J-J-uly! There is a fireplace in our rondavel and Heartie and I wasted no time in lighting a great blazing conflagration after we stumbled in last night. I wish we had had a good whisky. Or any whisky.

When I sat at the window at 5am this morning and stared out at the Highland cattle shivering in the gloaming, I really did wonder if we were in some Scottish valley. I would not have been even a wee bit perplexed if I had seen a burly wild-eyed fellow with ginger hair and a kilt run past waving a claymore at some grouse. Because that would have been our nutty unicyclist engaging in some extravagant shenanigans.

He does this kind of thing. When we unpacked the back-up truck last night in a frantic effort to find something for dinner, a vrot (rotten) banana was unearthed among the delicate eco-system which is fast developing among all the junk we carry. I fully expected to find my bed “apple-pied” with it last night. Instead, I was rudely awoken by an alarm clock (set for 2am) which had been secreted under a pillow on the neighbouring bed. I am now keenly anticipating Heartman’s reaction when he slips his feet into his riding shoes to find a very large and very dead dung-beetle-like creature obstructing the progress of his big toe into the forward end of his footwear. Touche!

Such fun. Spoiled only by the distinct lack of a 3G internet connection here in Seym… um, wherever we are. Which means I cannot upload any pictures on to this blog.  Not unless I had a day to spare for each picture. As mellow and laid-back as we might be on this Heart and Sole Tour, I don’t. Sorry. Especially as I have some cracking piccies to show you. From our night and morning spent in the most seductive hamlet of Cathcart.

Of Father Matthias of the Catholic Church who very jovially and expressively made our stay a beautiful one. Of Mama Zoleka who kindly gave over her guest-room to two mad mlungus at the last minute. Of Sister Kathleen who showed us around the Schonstatt Shrine, the very earliest of the Catholic shrines to be built in South Africa, and who blessed AmaOneTyre (the unicycle), The Heartman, myself and (I think accidentally) my camera.

Of Nic Nel who, with wife Rita, runs a strange shop in Cathcart which, among other things of curiosity, sells the wonderfully weird metal sculptures that he conjures out of scrap in his workshop (a building which originally served as a motor repair workshop for Model T Fords). Of former Durban advocate and fierce defender of human rights, Jenny Wilde, who came to Cathcart a couple of years ago to die but found her malady cured by the Catholic faith and the purest of air. Of her daughter-in-law Robyn, a “fire artist, who managed to balance her willowy frame so delectably on AmaOneTyre that she is now determined to add a unicycle to her repertoire of flame-throwing wizardry. Yes, there are photographs of many wonderful people we have met.

And so many, too, of this beautiful thing that goes by the name of The Heart and Sole Tour. Perhaps next time. Lang ma ye lam reek.

Oh, look! A picture has uploaded! Yippeeness! This one is of Heartie planning our route next to last night's fire. Yes. No wonder we can't find Seymour!

Good graciousness. I have pic uploading capabilities. Right, while I have airtime, I’m going to run with this. Bear with me. And do join me on our pilgrimage through Cathcart…

Beautifulness. Mama Zoleka bids Heartman and I farewell after we spent the night as guests in her cool-vibe home...

Ah, nice one. Another pic makes it on! This is the delightful Father Matthias, a beautiful human being, showing off one of Netty's origami cranes which we gave him as a small token of gratitude for his heartsingingly wonderful hospitality

Father Matthias, Sister Kathleen and The Heartman gather around AmaOneTyre before it was taken into the Schonstatt shrine to be blessed

Jenny and Robyn whizz off in their old Porsche after Robyn's love affair with the unicycle was ignited outside Nic Nel's little shop of creative curiosities

There. So happy to have got those pics on the blog. Only took me two hours. I think we have some riding to do now. Word is reaching us that Seymour is still 30km further down (or up) the drag. Ahem. Later!

Day 31? Mmmm. We don’t really know what day it is – and sometimes even who we are – on this magical mystery tour but, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m thinking that means we’ve been on the road for a month. Yowzerness!

And wonderfulness. We’re loving this. Some days more than others.

Coolness is our best friend on The Heart & Sole Tour. Take Tuesday (Day 30). Cool. Rainy. Make that very rainy. Perfect. Yesterday (Day 31) was hot. Extremely hot. Hard. These pictures may help to illustrate how it looks to unicycle in the two extremes of weather…

Day 30: Rather moist on the road, I'd say, but The Heartman revels in the coolness and ploughs steadily forth...

Day 31: Met eish, ja! Old Heartie cools off with drops of water melting from the ice he uses to pack his knees. It was so darn hot!

But… never mind the weather, we always have fun. Supported by “local knowledge”, we tried a shortcut yesterday. Heading towards Queenstown from Cofimvaba (thanks for the interview and your beautiful support, Warra and Heather!), we swung off on a road which would purportedly knock a lot of kilometres off our route and take us to Cathcart. About 12km of passable dirt road, we were told, and then about 30km of tar to Cathcart.

Dirt always appeals to two quite agricultural overgrown boys. Yeah, right. We discovered that the road, all 40km of it, was dirt. And rutted. With large dongas decorating it in the middle section. Unpassable.

Still, it popped us out of the “Heart & Sole Bubble” we have to occupy on the hard shoulder (if there is one!) on tar roads because of the traffic that hurtles past us. We were freed up to boss the dirt track. I, as back-up driver, left Heartie to monowheel safely on while I stopped to wave my camera at everything that moved.

And this is what moved me…

Oh, dear. Old Heartie seems to have fallen back... and is walking! Too much of heat. Too much of hill. Too much of holes in the road. Too much of tough!

So I turned my eye towards Mama Nature. And, as always, she was very giving. I called this little chap Ringo. He looks like one tough little beetle, doesn't he?

And then there were these two... playing, er, the giddy goats. Juicy leaves make a nice change from grass, don't they?

When the road became totally un-unicyclable, The Heartman and I got down to really having us some fun…

Um. What can I say? OK. I thought the late afternoon golden light so sublime, I thought I would try to embrace it. Whoo! Pic: Heartman

And we couldn’t end without the now almost statutory pic of old Heartie riding off into some kind of sunset, could we? No. That’s right…

OK. So it's not quite sunset. But The Heartman is up and at it and doing his thing. And just dig the cow and goat adding their bit. Nice, hey? Pics: Hatman

It’s more than nice, I tell you. We didn’t realise that the Eastern Cape could be so beautiful. It’s scenery such as this that keeps us going at times. You just have to take the dirt road to uncover the real beauty. Wait. I’m feeling a profound moment coming on. Somebody (who?) once said something like this: “It is better to experience the detours, the curves and the zigzags of life than to hurry to your final destination.” Something like that. The Heart and Sole Tour is something like that. And Geoff “The Heartman” Brink and I are truly privileged to have this experience.

* The Heart & Sole Tour would like to thank both Rotary clubs in Queenstown for their wonderful hospitality and generosity. To Bruce van der Meer of Queenstown Rotary… thank you for the potjie evening and your club’s kind donations! And a big thank you to Kruno and Goga Fuzy of the Lukhanji Sunset Rotary Club for the beautiful accommodation and breakfasts at their homely Novel Lodge! Rotary rocks! No, seriously.

OK. I’m a blogger in a hurry. Why? I’ve had word this morning that Rotary Umhlanga has donated R5,000 towards keeping Heart & Sole Tour unicyclist Geoff Brink and I on the road to Cape Town!

In a word: Phenomenalness. In another word: Reliefness. And so on. The Heartman and I are chuffed beyond belief. We can’t wait to resume battle with the uphills, the potholes, the trucks and the heat in our little “hard shoulder bubble”. One thousand and one hundred kilometres left to Cape Town? “Pfffft. Bring it on!”

Old Heartie is already on a plane back to East London, I’ve cleaned out the back-up truck, repaired our yellow warning light, stocked up on ice for his creaking knees and Mickey Mouse plasters for assorted cuts and grazes to come and I’m packing to collect him at the airport.

So, you’ll be relieved to read, i don’t have time to waffle on here. Just know that we are uber-grateful to Mike Kuttner and Jacqui Daniel of Rotary in Umhlanga for giving us a new lease of life and we are totally amped to finish this wild adventure we started nearly a month ago.

So here’s a hastily freshened-up press release I’ve just sent to staunch Heart & Sole supporter Olivia “OJ” Symcox to be disseminated to her extensive list of media contacts. It’s been quiet. It’s been frustrating. But we’re about to hit the road again in our quest to raise awareness of the awfulness of landmines and we need the oxygen of publicity to again be pumped into The Heart & Sole Tour. Anything you, dear Heartpeople, can do to spread the word will be ecstatically welcomed by old Heartie and I!

And, yes, if you’ve sorted the bond/rent, car repayments and popped a bit into the piggy bank for that holiday in July, please don’t hesitate to send a few notes our way! Bank details are at the end of this post! Here we go… oh, first a pic to break up this vast tract of grey words!

Oh goshness! I suppose I, as the back-up driver, will be seeing a lot more of this over the next month or so!

January 25, 2010

FOR IMMEDIATE PRESS RELEASE

THE Heart and Sole Tour, a unicycle ride of 1,700km from Durban to Cape Town, has been rescued by an injection of new funding and will re-commence from a point 90km outside of Queenstown in the Eastern Cape tomorrow (Tues, Jan 26).  Geoff Brink, a freelance photographer based in Umdloti on the north coast of Kwazulu-Natal, has unicycled nearly 600km in intense heat, huge thunderstorms and through treacherous terrain in his courageous effort to raise awareness of the scourge of landmines.

Rotary Umhlanga, led by Jacqui Daniel and Mike Kuttner, has donated R5,000 towards the fuel, food and airtime expenses of The Heart and Sole Tour, enabling Geoff “Heartman” Brink and Howard “Hatman” Donaldson, the tour’s back-up driver and blogger, to continue on their challenging but wonderful coast-to-coast adventure through South Africa.

However, the tour requires further funds to achieve its objective of reaching Cape Town and Kai von Pannier, managing director of Mineseeker SA, responsible for their anti-landmines campaign in Southern Africa, is calling on other Rotary branches and, indeed, corporates and individuals to try to match the R5,000 donation made by Rotary Umhlanga.

Donors may find bank details for The Heart and Sole Tour on the official tour blog, http://www.fredhatman.co.za. Any donations from the public, no matter how small, will be gratefully welcomed by Brink and Donaldson who are utterly determined to roll into Cape Town in late February having raised as much awareness as possible of the largely ignored destruction still caused by landmines left scattered around the world long after wars have ended.

The Heart & Sole Tour has been organised in support of The Sole of Africa, a campaign by the UK-based Mineseeker Foundation dedicated to the removal of landmines in Africa. The Foundation has offices in South Africa and the US.

The Mineseeker Foundation,  recruited Nelson Mandela (now retired), Queen Noor and Sir Richard Branson as founder Patrons with Dame Graca Machel, Lord Richard Attenborough,  Brad Pitt and John Paul DeJoria. The Sole of Africa campaign is a Mineseeker initiative to support landmine victims.  Rock vocalist Toni Rowland, an ambassador for The Sole of Africa along with Oscar Pistorius and Candice Hillebrand, has been appointed Ambassador for The Heart & Sole Tour and her single Put Your Foot Down adopted as the theme song for the unicycle ride.

Geoff, 37, trained for three months on “AmaOneTyre”, his 36-inch wheel specialised unicycle and started his highly strenuous road trip on Monday, December 28. He is accompanied by media director for The Sole of Africa Howard Donaldson, who is responsible for general logistics as well as filming, photographing and blogging (as “SA-positive” blogger Fred Hatman) about the 1,700km expedition.

Sponsors supporting the Heart & Sole Tour include Odd Wheel Unicycles, Glaceau Vitaminwater, Gower Power nutritional supplements, Rotary International, iStore, AromaSoothz, The Corner Cafe, Grand Axe Music and Umdloti’s Bush Tavern.

Further information about the Heart & Sole Tour can be be found on the official tour blog (a light-hearted one!) at http://fredhatman.co.za/ (media organisations are welcome to use information and photographs from the blog) and on The Sole of Africa’s website at http://www.thesoleofafrica.org.za/

/ENDS

Geoff can be made available for interview and photography and press enquiries should be directed towards Howard Donaldson, using the contact details below.

Thanking you in anticipation of your kind support,
Howard Donaldson,
Media Director,
The Sole of Africa.
http://www.thesoleofafrica.org.za
e-mail: redhatmann@gmail.com
Tour blog: http://www.fredhatman.co.za
Cell: 072-078 7565
On Twitter: http://twitter.com/fredhatman
On facebook: http://www.facebook.com/fredhatman (Supporters’ group: “Heart & Sole Unicycle Tour Durban to Cape Town”)

There. All the info you could possibly want, yes? Right. Here are those bank details…

G. M. Brink
Standard Bank
Plusplan
Account: 056 706 804
Branch code: 042 626

Three gee. 3G. My newly fave number and letter. The re-entry of 3G internet connectivity into my life means that I can (possibly) avoid blogging suicide after days in the Vodacom Desert and get a post out to my Heartpeople. I’m sorry.

And this is a post of two halves. Yes, the joy and the sorrow. From high to low. Just like the story of The Heart and Sole Tour. Rollercoasterness, babies! With your permission, I’ll give you the bad news first. Yes? OK. Good.

Here’s the thing. The unavoidable, somewhat inevitable, awful, chuffing nightmarish thing. After three weeks of toiling up mountains in absurd heat, rain, majestic electrical thunderstorms and a spot of hail, The Heart & Sole Tour has come to a grinding halt. Why? No money. Geen geld. Asinamali.

A humungous thank you to all of you who have contributed dosh to us but we simply do not have enough to continue. Apart from our “Spirit of Ubuntu” lunch (which I will shortly pictorialise for you) we had a bad day on Monday. Searing heat, virtually no hard shoulder on which to cocoon ourselves from flying trucks, crazymaking and potentially dangerous potholes and very, very, very tired bodies and minds.

The Heartman still managed to push himself 32km or so away from Engcobo towards Queenstown. But, because of the heat from hell, we only really rolled off after 5pm and, eventually, at after eight, we gave up and drove to Queenstown to rest minds and bodies. In fact, when we found a place to sleep, I didn’t so much find the bed as the bed found me. We came together as one. No shower. No brushing of teeth. El Collapso.

The next day was our birthday. Yes. Ours. Both born on January 19. Similar characters. With differences. I woke up The Heartman to give him a present. I had thought of getting him a pair of grey socks from Pep Stores, I told him, but I had something better. “Whashat?” he gurgled from his nightly slightly parallel universe. “Look. We’re not going to get much further. We’re knackered. We need a break. We need more funds. It’s your birthday. Spend as much of it as you can with your woman and your dogs at home.” His eyes opened. Wide. “Go. Get a flight from East London. Rest. Raise money. See you on Sunday.” He grinned and said something about Hatman not being so bad after all. He went. He’s recovering. And approaching some corporates about giving us the support we need to finish what we started and achieve our objective of raising awareness of the madness that are the millions of landmines still blowing off the limbs of people all over the world.

We are excruciatingly aware of the near-apocalyptic horror that is post-quake Haiti. It is only right that the compassionate eye of the world should be trained in that direction. But we are not asking for much. Just enough to cover fuel, food and airtime coasts to cover the rest of the Heart & Sole Tour from near Queenstown to Cape Town. We are closing in on the 600km mark, which means that old Heartie and I are a third of the way into this beautiful adventure.

The Heartman has used his rent money. I have exhausted my savings. It has been a giant leap of faith. But, even as we hang suspended somewhere along the arc of that leap, we still believe. I have always seen the two of us rolling into Cape Town and that vision is as clear and golden as the day this crazy wonderful idea was born. Please continue to help us achieve that.

OK. I promised you some snaps depicting what I am calling the “Spirit of Ubuntu” lunch. Quick preamble. We ride out of Engcobo on Monday. Blisteringly hot. We find a couple of trees offering shade. There are a few colourful rondavel huts nearby. The children come. Then the adults. The questions about the bicycle that has lost a wheel. The smiles. The shaking of heads. Our new friends sit around us and talk animatedly about the mad mlungus (white people). Heartie naps. I talk with the small crowd we have collected. They are hungry. Yes, we have some food (stored for camping) in the truck. Ah, I will cook it for lunch says Mama Cordelia, clearly the Big Mama of the community.

I bring out Imana beef mince, rice, a couple of onions, tinned tomatoes and some Aromat spices. Mama C sends oldest daughter Nosipho on a long walk to the spaza shop to get paraffin for the stove she has conjured up from a nearby hut. Pots and spoons magically appear. Mama Cordelia cooks lunch for us, her two daughters and assorted new arrivals, numbering about eight. It is beautiful. We sit on the grass under the trees next to the road to Queenstown eating Mama C’s impromptu lunch. Deliciousness. It tasted something like this…

Our Heartie is chuffed to have lunch served up for him by the redoubtable and indefatigable Mama Cordelia

This shy and delightful child rocks up for lunch. Nobody knows where her mother is. It doesn't matter. She is part of a bigger family. The community. She is duly fed...

Yes. I thought you might want to have another look at this adorable little girl. So I took this. Are you glad I did?

Mama Cordelia, unnamed sweetheart, Mamasolo, me and Nosipho devour the "Spirit of Ubuntu" lunch. Yes, those are (yugh) "Crocs" on my feet. Heartman gave them to me. Because I left my Havaianas in Umdloti. There. That's my story. And, yes, I'm sticking to it! Pic: Heartman

Ndiyabulela (thank-you in Xhosa), Mama Cordelia. And to your lovely daughters. And we’re sorry that we couldn’t accept your offer for us to marry them, even if they do cook as beautifully as you do!

Right. Back on the road…

Heartie gives a thumbs-up to the sign registering 117km to Queenstown. But the heat and dreadful road surface took its toll... Pix: Hatman

And I was going to give you a small closing ceremony provided by Mother Nature as we drove towards Queenstown but the internet connection has slowed down in solidarity with the Heart & Sole Tour. I’ll try again later. In the meantime, if you are able to help in any way – no matter how small – to fund our ride, here are the bank details…

G. M. Brink, Standard Bank, Musgrave Rd, Durban. Acc. 056706804 / Branch Code 042626.

Thank you!

* And, should you want to read Shaun Trennery’s interview with Geoff “Heartman” Brink on the excellent izimvo.com website, please go right on over to here.

The locals keep telling us that the hills will get less prolific and less steep and easier to negotiate on a unicycle. But they don’t ride unicycles!

Yowzerness! We have every reason to believe that, bar Everest, we have reached the summit of the earth. They come. And still they come. Hills. Mountains. Uphills. And The Heartman somehow finds the strength, the resolve, the sheer bloodymindedness to defeat them.

After a rest stop – which involves glugging two bottles of Glaceau Vitaminwater, snuffling about in sports nutrition powder mixes supplied by Gower Power, icing his knees and growling at me for driving too close to him or too far away – he yells at the next hill, daring it to defeat him with words of warrior defiance.

I chortle in the back-up vehicle and pump up the volume of Joe Cocker, Grace Jones or, ahem, John Fogerty… for these are the tunes which seem to rouse him sufficiently for mountain wars.

This tour is tough. Flipping tough. We somehow ate up 43 kilometres of tarmac yesterday, most of it uphill, and wobbled into Maclear, up in the armpit of the northern Eastern Cape just before 10pm. Just in time to procure a room at the Royal Hotel. This establishment has personality. Actually it has two. One that suggests a longlost association with a more genteel era, when ladies in long skirts and parasols, and accompanied by sniffly corgis, took tea in the shade of the oaks and the cha-cha might have been danced in the banqueting room.

Those scenes have peeled away along with the enamel in the baths, the floorboards don’t squeak but squeal and, lying in bed, one might be forgiven for thinking one is camping under a waterfall given the amount of water which runs, flushes and boils in this quaint old building. The pigeons certainly appear to be enjoying their stay.

Right. It is 3.26pm and the 38 deg C heat – accompanied by a surprising high level of humidity – has subsided enough for us to take to the road again. We hope to make it near to the tiny hamlet of Ugie, the next point on the arc of our magical mystery tour to East London. Nocturnal unicycling appears to be very much in vogue!

While old Heartie straps his creaking knees in preparation for a new battle, let me play you out with a few pictures from yesterday…

Don't ask. I don't know. Maybe a local farmer was a big fan of Chevy Chase... and had also had a sense of humour. All I know is that Heartie couldn't resist an impromptu AmaOneTyre cabaret underneath this curious sign!

This gorgeous "gogo" (granny) fancied herself as a unicyclist and wouldn't give up trying, much to the amusement of all of us!

These rondavel huts were catching the late afternoon sun as we, er, cruised past

Does our unicyclist feel on top of the world? Not really. It just looks like he is!

The big kahuna who is in charge of our universe reminds us yet again that no artist on earth can match his or her creativity

Time for just one more… um…

Oh lawksness! There's The Heartman... riding off into yet another South African sunset. All pix: Hatman

Please excuse me, dear Heartpeople. I must run. Old Heartie is all strapped up and raring to get at those hills. Yee-ha!

Eurekaness!!! After staggering through an internet desert for days on end, I have a semblance of connection! It’s trickling in at the speed of a unicyclist rather than, say, the infamous Winston the Pigeon but I’m not grumbling.

OK. So I have a backlog of about 1,000 pictures and dozens of weird and wondrous anecdotes on The Heart & Sole Tour… but I’ll do my best to get our loyal “Heartpeople” up to speed with our slow but sure progress. First, a picture. Look. It may be nothing more than what we old newspaper hacks term a “boring handshake pic” but, for The Heartman and I, it captures the spirit in which South Africans have received our crazy unicycle ride…

Where's a doctor when you need one? On the road between Matatiele and Mount Fletcher is the answer! This wonderful man, one Doctor Joe Thusi, stopped his car when he saw us taking a quick rest stop, crossed the road and gave us R900 cash to help with our fuel, food and airtime costs! Just like that!

This was beautifulness on an out-of-this-world scale! Heartie and I were simply blown away by Dr Thusi’s generosity and it took us a while to get going again. South Africans of every ethnic background are known for their generosity of spirit and nowhere more so than out in the sticks, where life generally is very challenging to say the least. Out of the basic dynamics of what is deemed newsworthiness, we often get a distorted view of what is happening in our beautiful country. What is generally happening in South Africa, my fellow countrymen, is a whole lot of good stuff. And, after more than two weeks on the road, straining our guts out on behalf of landmine victims, the Heartman and I are well placed to tell you that!

Right. Quick update on our mind-bogglingly beautiful road trip before I take you into a series of pictures taken over the past few internet-free days. We’ve made it to a point 12 kilometres beyond Mount Fletcher towards Maclear. The landscape is mutating into the drier, rockier and more stark terrain typical of the Cape. We have left behind the lush, green rolling topography of KwaZulu-Natal. But still the mountain passes come. The heat has been unbelievable. And we have been pushed to our limits. In fact, old Heartie and I “hit the wall” yesterday. Exhaustedness. The Heartman’s knees, heavily strapped to his physiotherapist’s requirements each day, were giving him pain. Even more exacting has been the emotional and psychological impact of getting a grip on the enormity of what we are doing. It has hit home. We have returned to the rehabilitative sanctuary that is the Matatiele home of Dr Rob and Maggie Mears.

“Doc Mears” and wife Maggie have been fantastic to us and we are resting today, restoring mind, body and soul in order to continue our quest for Cape Town. Enough said. Allow me to guide you through a pictorial tour of our recent Heart & Sole history…

This truckload of young initiates passed us somewhere between Matatiele and Mount Fletcher. It is a Sotho custom that boys, once 16 years of age, are smeared head to toe in red clay and circumcised in a ritual that takes place up in the mountains

We found this dapper young fellow adopting a distinctly Chaplinesque pose beside the road. A definite shoo-in for the Matatiele Fashionista of the Year title?

Introducing you to the sweetness of Mieke Chapman, beautiful but feisty young daughter of Keith and Mandy Chapman, who looked after Heartie and I so well in Kokstad. We overnighted with their neighbours, Vaughan "Neighbour" Raw and his wife Meryl and were spoiled rotten by both families. Thanks guys!

Time for a gentle change of scenery. And it doesn't get any more pastoral than this, does it?

Look. I can't remember where I took this pic. I just know it depicts The Heartman at his classic best!

Aah, yes. We've been stopped by the cops (traffic police) just once. And they rushed over to wish us a safe journey! They were also totally chuffed to receive a couple of ice-cold cooldrinks from our cooler box on a stinker of a day!

OK. I’m pushing my luck with this intermittent internet connection. I could be cut off at any moment. It’s a rollercoaster ride, I tell you! Let’s see if I may regale you with any further snaps…

Oh, yes. The mother of all storms hit us as were preparing to roll out of Mt Fletcher. Torrential rain. And hail too. Let’s see if I can find the pic I tried to take of that little baby…

Some locals are totally unfazed by a storm. Not surprising. It happens every afternoon in summer in this neck of the woods!

But all of the locals are united in their bemusement towards a man riding a bicycle which has lost a wheel! These Sotho ladies are wearing their traditional Sotho blankets. The temperature can drop 15 degrees in an instant!

Yes. I’ve made a meal of this post because I cannot be sure when I’ll be able to get online again. So it seems appropriate to close with a shot of me old Heartie riding off into the sunset…

And a pretty glorious one at that, eh? All pix: Hatman

Yowzerness! This post has been a rare old rollercoaster ride! Pretty much like our 1,700km Heart & Sole unicycle tour from Durban to Cape Town. Hang on! Stop the presses! News just in is that good friends Shane and Netty (she who made the origami cranes to be sold in aid of the Heart & Sole Tour) have driven out from Durban to surprise us. And they most certainly have!

Awesomeness overload! The plan is to camp in their tent on the side of the road near to where we stopped yesterday. I hope they brought a braai (barbecue) and some top-notch steaks! Not to mention beer! Then Heartie and I will set off again in search of Maclear (the next stop on our magical mystery tour to Cape Town) and a man they call Mr Mountain… I will explain all the next time I find the most elusive of holy grails – an internet connection! Toodlepip!

The more remote the place you go to, the friendlier the people. This couldn’t be more true that it is of the people of East Griqualand. I’m no longer completely sure what area the old East Griqualand covers as the borders of KwaZulu-Natal and the Eastern Cape seem to have shifted about a lot in recent years.

What I cannot doubt, however, is that the people who live in the region comprising of Harding, Kokstad (both in KZN) and Matatiele (Eastern Cape) must be the friendliest, most helpful and wonderfully human people in South Africa.

This is beautifulness on a grand scale. Because The Heartman and I have needed every ounce of support they have so willingly given us. Quite apart from the shoestring budget, now almost non-existent, on which we are pushing on in the name of The Heart and Sole Tour, locals have driven home to us the fact that we have climbed no less than 1,550km in altitude form the time we left Port Shepstone on the coast exactly one week ago on our sortie into the hinterland.

Geoff “Heartman” Brink, not yet fully conditioned for our 1,700km unicvycle journey from Durban to Cape Town, has cajoled his one-wheeler up hills, up steeper hills and up even steeper hills to rise 1,550km in altitiude in what amounts to six days.

This fact astounds me. We didn’t quite take on board how superhuman an effort was required of our unicyclist and my friend. No wonder he is knackered. No wonder I am so seriously impressed. I cannot do justice in words to how tough this past week has been.

And, now, as we near Matatiele and reach the summit of the Drakensberg escarpment before turning west into the heart of the Eastern Cape, we can take stock of what has been achieved and assess what is to come. Well, at least I can. The Heartman is having to deal with personal issues which are causing him huge stress. I’m not going into details here, of course, but this wonderful adventure has become as mentally and psychologically challenging as it is physical. And so it is. This is the journey we have chosen and the demands of the Heart and Sole Tour will teach us much about ourselves, our spirit and our souls.

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