I'm happy to announce that as of yesterday, I managed to get the second of the two visas I need in advance of the trip.

A summary of the countries and their visa requirements:
Egypt - Possible on arrival
Sudan - Need visa beforehand
Ethiopia - Need a visa beforehand
Kenya - On arrival, but preferable to arrange beforehand
Tanzania - Possible on arrival
Malawi - No visa required
Zambia - On arrival or arrange beforehand
Botswana - No visa required
Namibia - No visa required
South Africa - No visa required

Of the two necessary to arrange in advance, the Sudanese visa was the most difficult. I abhor the amount of bureaucracy that is necessary to obtain access to their country. It took several visits to get my Indian visa because I was an informal volunteer (as opposed to volunteering through a formally arranged scheme) and the bureacrats at most embassies can't deal with special cases.

In any case, it seems Sudan is an exceptionally difficult country to gain access to, I hope it's worth the effort. In total, I visited the embassy five times before walking away with my visa. Over summer when I contacted them (being some sort of pseudo-organised traveller), they mentioned it would take three months for the visa application to be processed. After struggling to download the form from their virus infested embassy website, I made the trip in person and dropped off the form.

Roll along to October, approximately two months later and Tour D'Afrique decided to tell us them when to apply for the Sudanese visa. While none of this information was in the registration pack they sent us some time ago, it seems we were supposed to just wait to be told what to do. With their email, several letters of support (one in Arabic) and a magical authorisation number were given. When I contacted the embassy about my original application, they answered with all the enthusiasm of a graveyard shift shelf stacker and told me there was no sign of it. So much for being organised.

On my return to England in December, I called up the Sudanese embassy to find out what the best way to apply was - the lady on the phone said 'it's up to you. Do what you like! It makes no difference to me.' Helpful, neh? I went in person armed with all the various letters of support, only to forget the necessary passport photographs on my desk at home. After an hour of cycling around trying to find a photo booth (which had all conveniently been removed just previously), I rushed into the visa office with minutes to spare before it shut for lunch. At this point the bureaucrat at the desk told me that they required some kind of 'certificate' from the organisation in Sudan which my tour was affiliated with. Facepalm moment, oh yes.

I reread the various emails we had been sent and contacted the TDA office, realising that I had forgotten the magic 4 digit authorisation number. Another long trip into London and I got into the office just after it opened. This time the gentleman behind the counter nodded and told me that, much to my relief, my passport would be ready to collect at 3pm.

This gave me about 6 hours in London to kill, much of which I spent at Condor Cycles, looking on at all the various shiny bike bits they have and buying brake studs for Calamity Jane. After eating lunch with Phil and checking out some of the (superb) exhibitions on at the British Library, I went to pick up my passport. A quick glance through the pages confirmed my luck - I had a Sudanese visa!

The Ethiopian visa I attempted on my return from our family holiday to Mombasa. This was supposedly straightforward but blocked as soon as the lady behind the counter read my form. 'You need an address. An address where you will be staying!', I tried explaining to her that we wouldn't be staying in one place and that the accompanying support letter outlined the route we would be taking. This seemed to irritate her though and she started getting visibly frustrated, 'You please just write on the form where you will be staying in Addis Ababa. There is box for you name on visa form but your name is written on letter to. You do not write to see support letter in box for you name.'

I understood what she was saying and wasn't sure what address to put down, a quick email from an internet cafe, while I was photocopying my passport, to the other group of British TDA cyclists yielded some help and it seems that they had simply written what was on the letter in the box. I did the same, which seemed to satisfy this bureaucrat and when I rocked up at the embassy a couple of days later, she handed me my passport with a smile and wished me a good trip to Ethiopia.

P.S. I'm aware that the titles of these last few posts have been rather dull and will endeavour to improve their creativity as time progresses and the subject matter of these posts becomes more interesting.

P.P.S. Did you know Ethiopia is the land of coffee?

P.P.P.S. I understand that post scripts are redundant with modern computers but I like them anyway.