10 CHALLENGES OF BIKEPACKING AFRICA

When I look back on the 430 days I spent cycling from Freiburg to Cape Town, it’s not just the sunsets, mountain passes, or smooth roads that come to mind. I also remember the fear I carried at the start, the monotony between the highlights, and the tiredness that crept in near the end. The tough days tested me. They made me pause, rethink, and grow.

Yes, bike travel can be incredibly beautiful. But it’s also raw and real. It comes with highs and lows, just like everyday life. And Africa, in all its variety and vastness, brought its own set of challenges.

Here are the biggest ones I faced – and how I found ways to navigate through them.

1. Safety

Safety is often the first thing people ask me about. Especially as a woman, traveling by bike, partly solo, through 22 diverse countries, sounds risky to some. And of course, the most crucial aspect of my trip is to be safe. Otherwise it would be impossible to enjoy or have fun. And to live a good life is the whole point, right?

The truth is: I never felt like a target. And the good news: Nothing bad ever happened to me.

Personal safety? I use an iPhone with emergency satellite function (so far, never needed it), share my live location via WhatsApp with family occasionally, and post on social media with a 1–2 day delay. But once again: I have never felt unsafe.

Bike safety? I dropped my bike lock because I found that I don't need it and it's too heavy. In small villages people were always looking out for me. At supermarkets, there was almost always a security guard outside the shop who kept an eye on the parking lot (and my bike). Hotels allowed me to bring my bike inside my room. And for camping and wild camping I made sure, I kept the bike as close as possible. I had an AirTag hidden on my bike just in case.

Wild life? Sadly, the number of wild animals outside national parks has extremely decreased across most parts of the continent. The only exception for me was Namibia, where elephants, oryx and zebras can roam free – but there, seeing them was actually a highlight, not a threat.

Nevertheless, the biggest danger? Like almost everywhere in the world, it's traffic. Poor road shoulders, tired drivers, heavy trucks with dead angles. Always look out!

I don’t take safety lightly. I just try to stay aware, calm, and practical.

2. Navigation

Not all roads are created equal. Especially in parts of West, Central and Southern Africa, planning the route may sometimes require a bit more attention. Some “roads” are more like muddy baths (Liberia), rocky trails (Nigeria), or sandy washboard gravel (Namibia). Yet, some days might feel extreme, other days, are easy main roads along the coast line without any problems and no elevation. Cycling across continents, one has to be prepared for all sorts of surprises.

What helped me a lot was a mix of tools: I downloaded offline maps with Google Maps, used Komoot for planning and finding beautiful highlights, and relied on iOverlander for info from other travelers, like where to find safe places to sleep, filtered water, or local tips.

Asking locals and trusting the route, while staying flexible, became part of the daily rhythm. And sometimes, the detour ended up being the best part (Guinea-Bissau).

3. Border Crossings

I crossed 18 African countries. Crossing them means often paperwork, patience, and a bit of research. I kept a list of all visa requirements before and during the journey, since rules sometimes change. Some countries required online applications, others visas on arrival and others needed embassy visits. I learned quickly: show up with a friendly smile, stay calm, bring copies, and give yourself enough time. Being patient is the best way to avoid paying anything extra. And even if not every crossing was 100% smooth, I must say that most border officials were curious, helpful and friendly.

4. Period(s)

Once I switched to a menstrual cup and period underwear, everything got easier. No more worrying about resupply, no trash, no extra packing. I only need clean water to rinse things out, and that’s it. On day one of my period, I usually take one ibuprofen to be painfree. Sometimes I like to take a rest day on the first day, too. Especially, when I am in a nice place! I stopped seeing my cycle as a burden and started seeing it as part of my strength. Remember: Healthy period, healthy body.

5. Bike Mechanics

Unfortunately, there are not many well equipped bike shops along the route from Germany to Cape Town. In Morocco and Namibia? Yes. In between? Not so much. So I carried what I needed: tools, spare chain, brake pads, cables, even spokes (read the full list here). I’m not a pro bike mechanic, but I learned enough to fix the basics and keep rolling. Having tubeless tires made a big difference! I had zero flat tires. Shout out to my Schwalbe G-One Overlands! Julien had plenty of flats as he is traveling with the classic tubes.

6. Homesickness & Loneliness

Some of my loneliest moments happened when I was surrounded by people. Loneliness isn’t about being alone, it’s about feeling disconnected. And that can happen anywhere. When it hits me, I stop. I try to take a breath. I ask myself: What do I need right now? Food? Sleep? A call home? Staying in touch with my loved ones helped a lot.

I always bought a local SIM card, so I could check in with family and friends whenever I needed it. And when I felt low, a short chat, a kind message, or just the sound of a familiar voice made things better. Talking to strangers helped, too. Locals, fellow travelers and sometimes a ten-minute conversation was enough to feel seen again.

7. Food & Water Supply

People often imagine Africa as remote and empty. But honestly, where there are people, there is food and water. I always found something to eat (mostly rice, chicken, bread with fried eggs or spaghetti). And I carried simple meals to cook on the camping stove: oats, couscous, pasta, pesto, tuna, or mayonnaise. Resupply was very easy in big cities and fairly easy in villages.

I used a 'gravity works' water filter that could clean three liters at once, which was super useful at campsites. Bottled water was available in most towns and asking locals for the next restaurant or bakery was often very helpful.

Through the Namib Desert, I carried more than usual, but that was the exception. Namibia was the only place where I had to stop cars to ask for water.

8. Health

Before I left, I made sure all my vaccines were up to date. I carried a full travel medical kit, including malaria prophylactics, ibuprofen, antibiotics, mosquito spray, and a few other essentials. I didn’t get seriously sick, though sometimes my stomach reacted more to what my brain felt, like when I was grossed out or stressed. Basic hygiene became part of my routine: rinse off at night, brush and floss teeth, trim nails, wear sunscreen. These small rituals kept me feeling human.

9. Language Barriers

Africa has over 2,000 local languages and no, unfortunately, I didn’t speak any of them. But I got by with a mix of basic English, French, and Portuguese. Most people I met appreciated the effort, even if it was just a few words. Communication isn’t only about language. People are incredibly generous when they feel respected.

10. People

If I had to name the one thing that carried me through, it’s the people. For some reason, many of us are still scared of people. But people are people. The people I met were kind, welcoming, curious, and helpful. I tried to show up with humility. Wherever I go, I am a guest on their roads, in their communities, among their families. Talking to young women, was often powerful and grounding. These connections, sometimes brief, sometimes lasting, are what made the journey unforgettable.

So, in the end...

…a journey without challenges isn’t really a journey. I’m not completely fearless, but I’ve learned to adapt, to ask for help, and to keep going at my own pace, even when things got hard.

But the real challenge, as a white person, is to travel with awareness and self-reflection. It’s our responsibility not to reproduce harmful stereotypes, not by posting random images or chasing clicks with sensational videos. What we often call an "adventure" is, for many, simply daily life, and not an easy one. Our struggles are chosen: for fun, for growth, for self-fulfillment.

In low-income countries, reality looks very different. I was reminded again and again how tough everyday life can be for many. People face challenges I can hardly imagine. So I want to be clear: everything I write comes from my own experience, that of a white woman from Germany, traveling by choice.

For me, bike travel in Africa isn’t about “toughing it out.” It’s about finding flow with a continent that is endlessly rich, surprising, and deeply human. It’s about seeing our similarities, letting go of fear by saying yes to the unknown, and discovering that, most of the time, our core human needs are the same: fuel, shelter, and connection.

Here's what a typical day on the road looks like: a routine that's never the same:

And as always: feel free to write me if you’ve got questions or thoughts to share! :)