The Third World as seen from the saddle

In keeping with CNN, SKY News, BBC, Al Jazeera and every other news channel in the world, even the sports ones, this blog is all about Coronavirus and Social Distancing. Invented just 3 short months ago in a Chinese food market specializing in wildlife, including snake, bat and pangolin poached out of Zimbabwe, Coronavirus has, as of this morning, infected 182465 people, killing 7154, sending the world’s markets, media and consumers of toilet paper into a flat panic in the process.  My friend Clive thinks Coronavirus is a cross between the flu and Mad Cow disease.

In terms of daily deaths, Coronavirus is still small potatoes, ranked just above other well-known killers like Leishmaniasis and Echinococcosis, and well below Zimbabwe’s perennial favourites, cholera and typhoid.  But Coronavirus is that contagious and scary, South Africa, a country of +/- 60 million with just 62 confirmed cases and no deaths, has seen fit to shutdown overnight, closing half the borders, and all schools and cancelling all sporting events, including the Over 50 Cricket World Cup, even though Zimbabwe were doing well against New Zealand. Cyril Ramaphosa has been lauded for his swift decisive actions. Now here’s hoping that he’ll go on to tackle crime with the same robust enthusiasm. South Africa has a daily murder rate of 58 and a rape rate of 114.

Boris Johnson in the UK and ditto the Netherlands look to be gambling big on a Coronavirus strategy which is based on the herd immunity theory whereby a large percentage of a population become immune, through becoming infected, but at a controlled pace, giving them time to build health infrastructure resources needed to protect the most vulnerable and most at risk. Ballsy stuff and hugely at odds with the rest of the world who are all favouring the drastic lock down strategy, where they act decisively, well before new case numbers spike, looking to flatten the epidemiological curve. Before this blog, I had no idea the word epidemiological was even out there. For the sake of the sick, the elderly and all the most vulnerable out there, I hope that both approaches work out okay.

Zimbabwe also looks to be going it alone by going forward with a zero-strategy strategy, apart from building a new mortuary of which President Ed is apparently very proud. Oh, and we’ve also cancelled Independence Day celebrations a month out, but that could be due to lack of interest. So far, our zero strategy looks to be working though, with zero confirmed cases, but I’m guessing that might be more to do with us taking a leaf out of the Russian book on how to report negative test results. So far Putin has also reported zero deaths in Russia, although I’m guessing his pneumonia and ancillary death stats are through the roof. And for the record, I also think he told porky pies about stealing my 5th favourite pair of riding shorts and about interfering in American elections.

Zimbabwe is ahead of the game as regards Social Distancing, the new phenomenon sweeping the world. Not surprising given that we invented the concept with empty supermarket shelves, 18-hour power cuts, no fuel, no cash etcetera, etcetera and continue to take it to new levels. This week for example, we unveiled the Forty Dollar Pepsi. And with an annual inflation rate of 540%, I’m sure that next week, we’ll explore the realms of the Fifty Dollar Pepsi, and beyond. Nothing empties restaurants quicker than drinks you can’t afford. And thanks to our doughty Minister of Defence, Zimbabwe is looking to take Social Distancing to a global level. At a political rally this week, our next elections are only due in 223, she told the bussed in crowd that the Coronavirus was God’s way of punishing the USA and other Western countries for imposing sanctions on Zimbabwe. After that comment, governments and international donors are going to rush to further distance themselves from having to hug us, further reducing the risks of imported infections. It is an out of the box strategy, especially from a country with a famine looming and a begging bowl already permanently outstretched, as it now prepares for a pandemic possibly of Biblical proportions, with exactly 4 ICU beds to share between the capital’s two largest hospitals and I’m guessing zero working ventilators. There’s that word zero again. Way to go, Oppah.

Namibia had their Social Distancing policy out on display ¸ditto their border control policies, when I visited their embassy to ask about visas for the Old Legs 2020 Tour to the Skeleton Coast starting in May. I wasn’t allowed into the Embassy grounds. Instead, my visa interview was conducted through 5 holes at belly button height in the glass window at the main gates by a guard muffled by a mask.

Guard- What do you want?

Me- Visas please, for me and some friends.

Guard -Why?

Me- Why what?

Guard – Why do you want visas?

Me- Because we want to ride our bicycles to Namibia to raise money and awareness for Zimbabwe’s pensioners.

Guard cutting to the chase- Are any of you from China?

I’m going back next week to find out if the guard’s list of dodgy countries has been extended to include Italy, Iran, Spain. South Korea, the US, the UK, Germany, France, etcetera, etcetera, but not Russia or Zimbabwe. Social Distancing was annoyingly evident on my first training ride in months with Adam Selby. Adam came out of retirement on Friday after three months mostly spent eating, but still stubbornly insisted on beating me up hills, even though he’s not fit and out of shape and I’m not so clearly the faster rider.

But thankfully Social Distancing has been less evident on training rides with Dave. I’ve spent the last 2 and a bit years and 14000 kilometres staring at the back of Dave’s riding helmet from afar. But courtesy of the tummy that Dave was given as a wedding present in December, Dave doesn’t ride so fast anymore.  Dave’s tummy, a.k.a. his chimimba in Shona, can be clearly seen in the photo below snapped on the Umfurudzi ride. Because Dave hates the photo, I’m posting it again, as partial pay-back for him letting me ride 500 kilometres with my front brakes binding. Dave first noticed my brakes were binding on our way out of Harare, when I slowed down on a steep downhill without applying brakes. I never noticed at the time, because I was too busy going purple in the face. Because he is a dear friend, Dave kept mum about my binding brakes for the next 500 kilometres, but eventually relented, halfway through our last 90km training ride on Saturday, because he couldn’t contain his laughter any longer. It took Dave just minutes to fix the problem. He said that after riding halfway across Africa I should know how to fix binding brakes myself, especially because I went to Allan Wilson Technical High School. I told him we were too busy building internal combustion engines on lathes and Welsh Dressers on woodworking machines whose names escape me to learn about basic bicycle repairs. But he has got a point and I will invest in some You Tube time before we go to Namibia. But for however long it takes Dave to lose the chimimba, I’m guessing maybe two weeks at the most, especially after he reads this blog, I’m going to take Social Distancing on rides with him to ridiculous extremes, but I won’t ride that far in front of him that he can’t hear me laughing.

I am very happy to introduce you to Gravy Scott, who will be joining us as part of the Support Crew on this year’s Old Legs Tour, which will happen as planned, come hell or Coronavirus. Aged 75, Gravy will be the Senior Man on Tour, pipping Bruce Badger Fivaz by a year. Both Badger and Gravy are living proof that you are never too old to do epic. Mostly Gravy was recruited for his humour, because he knows how to reverse trailers, and also because his legs are skinnier than mine.

Thankfully and despite Coronavirus, the people of Zimbabwe continue to reach out to the pensioners and the less fortunate. Social Distancing rules get parked every week by Oscar and Cathy Bekker at their Monday Coffee Club when they treat a bunch of pensioners to coffee, cake, milkshakes, a chat and lots of laughs. I was invited to join them this week and so enjoyed. For sure, laughter and social interaction are what old folk value the most.  At my end of the table, the humour verged on toilet, mostly from 80 something year-old Gordon next to me. He shook hands with me using his elbow and told me his surname was HairyArse. We spoke about Coronavirus only very briefly. He said it was just another spot of shit on his windscreen that needed wiping and it was at the very back of long list of other things he had to worry about. For instance, Gordon said not being able to afford toilet paper is way worse than no toilet paper on supermarket shelves. I also met 83- year-old Madelaine who still has to go to work to support herself and her husband, and who drives a 45-year-old Datsun 120Y that has already been around the clock twice. It was suggested that Madelaine’s surname should be Schumacher because she drives it too fast. Madelaine was a bit stressed about finding a new somewhere to live because the house they currently rent has just been sold. Thank God for people like Oscar and Cath.

Also thank God for the likes of Stark Ayres and Charter Seeds who have offered free vegetable seed for retirement homes looking to grow their own. And also thank God for Rowena Melrose and all the ladies who entered the Yarn Barn challenge to knit one blanket square for every kilometer ridden by the Old Legs on our way to Kilimanjaro. The 3000 plus blanket squares have been sewn together into blankets that the Yarn Barn will hand over to Pensioners Aid on Thursday this week.

I’m off to Bulawayo tomorrow week for a book signing at the Orange Elephant on Wednesday evening. In closing, I was going to suggest that people in their sick beds around the world might enjoy a good book to read, like maybe Running Dogs and Rose’s Children for instance, now available on Amazon, Take A Lot, Folio Books in Borrowdale and the Orange Elephant in Bulawayo, but because that could come across as a less than sensitive crass attempt to profit from illness, sort of like a Nigerian selling fake testing kits, I won’t. I’ll be at the Orange Elephant on Wednesday evening for a book signing session. Life sure has been hectic since launching the book. I’m getting messages from people I don’t know all over the world telling me they are enjoying the book, and my nephew in Joburg now calls me Uncle Miniscule, after reading page one of my book in which my sperm sample is described as less than abundant. My nephew has red hair and mischief to match and is making me think I should’ve gone with either an alias, or poetic licence.

In closing, there are just 140 days to the 2020 Blue Cross, Zimbabwe’s most iconic mountain bike challenge. Register now because it will be epic.

My best photo this week is of Mitch Whaley flying the flag at this year’s Argus. Thank you, Mitch for reminding us that riding bikes is about recreation, exercise and enjoying, and not about fashion or status statements.

And R.I.P. Jim Wilson – the world was a nicer place with you in it. Strength going forward to all his friends and family.

Until next week, survive Corona and remember to shake hands with your elbow and / or your feet.

Eric ‘Chicken Legs’ de Jong.

Photos below – meet Gravy Scott, Dave and his chimimba, 2 x $40 Pepsis, fields of cosmos on our last training ride, and Mitch flying the flag.