When I awoke the next morning I felt like death warmed up. I was convinced that I had contracted malaria. I had a pounding headache and a fever and all the muscles in my body felt like they were seizing up. I decided I would get out my first aid kit and test myself for malaria. I could test myself and I could treat myself with Coartem. It was still very early and I lay in my tent listening to the rain, still softly falling outside, as I tested myself. It takes a few minutes to get a result, so I started getting dressed. I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. I felt that I couldn’t remain in my tent on the side of the road and at the same time, didn’t feel like it would be a good idea to be cycling in the rain.
How my day would turn out would soon be revealed. The malaria test showed negative and I figured I just had a bad bout of flu. I packed up camp and decided that I would take it easy out on the road, making whatever progress I could for the day. I had to push on as the expiry date on my visa for Angola was drawing closer.
The rain had stopped and I had just got on the road, when a black Ford pickup truck pulled over and stopped a few meters ahead of me. People stopping on the side of the road and wanting to chat to me had become somewhat of a normality, after all the publicity I received in Luanda, so I thought littl