My experience in Rwanda and Uganda has involved lots of rain! Apparently, the weather is unusual for this time of year. Unfortunately, I have not spent much time in Rwanda because I have whizzed through to avoid the rain. I did enjoy some riding though, so here's a video taken whilst riding in Uganda, some of which is in the rain.

Yet again, I've seen more crazy loads carried on motorcycles that I noticed in Uganda.

On my final day in Uganda, I had planned a long ride from Kampala to the Kenyan border and then Kisumu.

En route to the border, I rode over the Source of the Nile Bridge (army) that crosses the Victoria Nile river. Big mistake! The Uganda People's Defense Force and bridge security stopped me as I left the bridge. They firmly explained I had ridden passed the sign indicating that no motorcycles (also bicycles and pedestrians) were allowed on the bridge. Ah!

They were pleasant but definitely unimpressed.

A fine was due. However, they waived the fine and let me go. I continued and payed more attention to signage.

Later on, I passed the equator line. My last meeting with the equator line was in Gabon. Bit of a frown in this photo from facing the sun!

The equator line in Uganda.

A mere 11 miles from the border, I heard a pop as I passed a line of parked trucks. This was a new sound for me. I dismissed the possibility of a puncture, and I assumed the sound came from the parked trucks, riding over a plastic bottle, or people nearby .

Sixty seconds later, at about 40 mph, my rear inner tube lost all pressure within a fraction of a second. Slightly scary.

The culprit? A nail.

A nail stuck in my motorcycle tyre in Uganda.

Not just any nail, though. Extracting the nail with pliers revealed a monster of a nail that measured 10 cm.

The nail I pulled from my motorcycle tyre, which caused a puncture.

Within minutes, locals had stopped to watch. Moses remained and told me he wanted to learn. A bit flustered and feeling slightly under pressure to cross the border, I was happy to help him so I explained everything that I was doing.

The nail had pierced the inner tube and also torn the inner tube by an inch, which means I won't repair and reuse it. Anyway, I replaced the inner tube and started to inflate it.

The end piece of my hand pump that screws on to the inner tube's valve had worn threads. The pump wouldn't fasten to the inner tube and I couldn't inflate the tyre properly. Moses was very kind and cycled to the nearest town and returned on a motorcycle with Francisco and a foot pump.

Francisco had a what I think was a Dunlop valve to replace my Schrader valve. The foot pump had a rubber hose that he intended to just push on the proposed Dunlop valve; however, the Dunlop valve wouldn't attach to the inner tube.

So, we had two pumps, neither of which fastened properly to the valve. We tried everything! Eventually, with a lot of effort, we managed to get 16 PSI that meant I could ride.

Here's Moses (top), Francisco (middle), and myself (left).

Francisco attaching the pump to my inner tube's valve and Moses about to pump air into the inner tube in Uganda.

I gave them some money for their help and gifted some zip ties because they are useful for many things. A quick lesson in using zip ties turned their baffled faces into smiles.

Here's Moses (left), myself (centre), and Francisco (right) once we had finished.

Moses (left), Stephen Matthews (centre), Francisco (right) after fixing my puncture and inflating my tyre.

Moses escorted me riding slowly to the next town and showed me a workshop with an air compressor. I asked for 22 PSI and it was inflated within seconds. I was on my way again!

The border crossing into Kenya was fine.

Then, heading towards Kimusu in Kenya, I could see large grey clouds and lightning ahead. I was hoping my turning, which was a few miles away, would be my escape route. It wasn't—it rained on me!

The following day, I checked the air pressure to find it was off the scale on my air pressure gauge—more than 49 PSI!

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