＊ 本书是一个真实故事，关于一个人为了在非洲盖学校而募款而从非洲赞比亚骑着竹做的脚踏车到伦敦，总共8000多公里。
＊ 本书在意大利亚马逊是骑车类第一名、旅游文学第十八名、旅游书第三十五名
作者Matteo Sametti在2006年搬到非洲赞比亚，希望在那里盖一所学校。他梦想中的学校会利用运动来开导孩子。从2012年6月15到8月28，他为了学校募款决定从Lusaka赞比亚骑车到伦敦。他骑过赞比亚、马拉维、坦桑尼亚、肯尼亚、衣索比亚、苏丹以及埃及，每天骑车8到9小时，之后飞到他的老家米兰，再开始骑过法国以及英国。他抵达伦敦的时候刚好是残奥会的第一天，这一天代表了“平等的运动机会“以及社会融入。这本书描述了他的旅途。
“An initiatory journey which is a sort of a modern Divine Comedy, where the condemned themselves guide you through the circles of hell”
Sette ‐ Corriere della Sera’s magazine
关于作者：Matteo Sametti今年44岁，他在2006年之前是一名顾问。他2006年搬到赞比亚，投身而入教育发展事业。他创办了Sport2build，一家提倡利用运动来教非洲儿童如何包容的非政府机构。
In the author’s words
I’d been thinking about taking a bicycle tour across Africa for a while, but I just hadn’t found a good enough reason or the timing wasn’t right. But this all changed when the Chieftainess Nkomesha Mukamambo II, a traditional leader who administers (and does so well I must add) her land in a district as big as New Jersey, approached Sport2build to build a school for one of her villages in the middle of the bush. Serena and Giorgia, my partners in Sport2build, and I happily accepted the challenge. The plan was that I would cycle from Chongwe, in Zambia, all the way to London, a distance of approximately 8,400km.
Our first objective was to find a mode of transport representative of Africa, which demonstrated that it’s possible to do incredible things with very little. We decided that a bamboo bike would best represent the true spirit of this journey, because it was a Zambian product, innovative, ecological, economical (about $700), and able to absorb, muffle and deaden the harsh conditions of Africa’s ramshackle roads. We agreed that London would be my final destination, and that I needed to reach it before 29 August 2012, the date of the Paralympics’ opening ceremony. We had chosen the Paralympics because it is the ultimate expression of sport for all and embodies social inclusion, commitment and exemplary stories of people who don’t give up and have made resilience the backbone of their lives. These are the same values that we try to convey to coaches and children through our work.
The departure date of 15 June was set and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the Chieftainess’ palace in Chongwe, 35km east of Lusaka, along with about 200 well-wishers who had come to see me off. In ‘my’ Zambia I had many supporters, mainly children along the way, and often there would be one child on the lookout, and as soon as he saw me, he would shout “Musungu, musungu”, and then run like mad to call his friends and siblings who would then come running out to greet me.
Leaving Zambia behind, I entered Malawi from Moocha, next to Lundazi. The terrain was very bumpy as the once-tarred roads were now potholed, gravel roads that jolted. Some 451km later, I left Malawi and headed into Tanzania. The road from Iringa to Arusha personified everything a cyclist would not want to find, including piles of stones, wet soil that got in-between the mudguard and wheel, cement waves caused by tracked vehicles, rocks protruding from the surface and white sand. The other encounter I had here was with a cobra but we were both too busy minding our own business to scare each other. Watching it slither off, I envied its agility as it floated across the sand while I was sinking into it because of the weight of the panniers.
I learnt that it was better to cross the border in the evening, as there were less people, and a tailwind helped me on my way. I only stayed in Kenya for a short time before going in search of the Moyale Express, to take me to Moyale, a market town on the border of Ethiopia and Kenya.
Cycling from Isiolo to Moyale was not an option due to the very real threat of Somali bandits, and a lone cyclist would be an easy target. However, the trip on the Moyale Express turned out to be one of the riskiest parts of the entire trip because of the jumps and crash landing of the bus that involved tears of pain or a groan, but the bus driver did not stop or even slow down.
Ethiopia is a world on its own and the country I stayed the longest in. The 1,683km journey took me across countless mountains, in the cold and rain, and on one very long uphill, which took me to 3,300 m, I was accompanied by children running alongside me as they sang and clapped their hands. They were excellent supporters, and very curious, unlike the Kenyan or Tanzanian children, who would never think to touch the bicycle. The Ethiopian kids would grab my handlebar, the speedometer or panniers, and then ask for money. At times I lost my patience, but I realised that they asked because they have already received from tourists, who do not understand that they are doing more harm than good.
Entering the Sudan at the Metemma/Gallabat border involves numerous security checks, including camera and laptop inspections, as well as pictures on the memory card. This puzzled me as to what I could possibly have photographed in the 400metres since entering Sudan. Travelling through the desert was incredibly tough, especially after one o’clock in the afternoon when the heat became unbearable and the winds blisteringly hot. Drinking was no longer enough and my body craved water and a cold shower.
Sudan, being a predominantly Muslim country, proved to be very organized so far as water for ablution purposes being placed along the roadside. Despite the challenging conditions, it was with a heavy heart that I left Sudan and its people, who had been so helpful and welcoming. In every village I travelled through, I was invited to join the locals on their colourful carpets for lime juice, karkade and ilumur; a tea prepared with seven local spices, which rehydrated my body worn out by the desert. Entering Egypt, I followed the course of the Nile to Cairo and was often stopped by police, who tried to scare me into taking the train to the capital, because they said the situation after the revolution was very still dangerous.
Regardless, I continued and never felt in any danger. Plunging into the capital’s chaotic traffic was fantastic after cycling for 7,000 km alone. The bedlam reminded me of my Milanese origins, and I had great fun zigzagging amongst the cars and buses. On my rest day, I went sightseeing and visited Tahrir Square, and watched families eating ice cream in crowded shops that stayed open until late. Dover that I truly realised that my journey was nearly over.
Early on in the afternoon of 28 August, I found myself on the Tower Bridge, just in time for the opening ceremony of the Paralympics. I had travelled 8400km, cycling through seven countries on my bamboo bike to reach my goal. Journeys such as this are like a drug and almost immediately I found myself planning my next adventure. My restlessness was curbed when I read a speech by Stephen Hawking in which he said: “Never give up work. Work gives you meaning and purpose and life is empty without it.” No doubt very true but I must admit I still miss the excitement of the open road.
- 竹脚踏车：从非洲骑到伦敦的8371公里
- THE BAMBOO BYCICLE: 8371 km from the heart of Africa to the Paralympics in London
- 作者：Matteo Sametti
- 出版社代理人：Ediciclo（意大利）
- 出版时间：2013年10月
- 页数：244页
- 已售版权：
- 版权联系人：tina@peonyliteraryagency.com
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