Since telling everyone of my plans to cycle to Kenya last Sunday, I’ve had a pretty busy week talking to various people about what was going to happen and things like that. Well, talking I can do. Sadly, I have a feeling that you can’t talk yourself all the way to Africa, so I took the bold step of getting myself a bike. And, quite frankly, it’s terrifying me!

Given that I haven’t really ridden a bike for the best part of a decade (barring a brief outing on a tandem last year which, as anyone who had the misfortune to share the bike with me will testify, was not exactly a demonstration of cycling prowess), I didn’t exactly stride into the shop full of confidence. My knowledge of bikes is pretty much limited to the fact that they have two wheels, they’re difficult to get up hills, and the rear brake is on a different side on some bikes (a fact discovered many years ago, when a cool-looking skid inadvertently turned into a demonstration of a somersault over the handlebars). So, as I walked in to be faced with this shiny looking black thing, I was equally scared and excited. Should the saddle really be that high?!

One of the first things to do was to take the bike out for a “test-ride”; so much for my plan to sneak in and out and then get to making sure I don’t fall off in private. I was, however, still a little concerned with the height of the saddle. I’m not that tall! Nevertheless, I casually pushed the bike out of the door, having ascertained that there was a route around the block that was all of 400 yards, and made sure to push the bike beyond the shop window before actually trying to get on the thing. After a few metres, two things became abundantly clear: the saddle was definitely too high (I don’t know much, but I do know you should be able to touch the pedals the whole way round!) and, rather more importantly, the saddle was very hard!

I’m no stranger to a sore bum, having spent the best part of the last few weeks of my row screaming in agony at the slightest movement, but this was another thing altogether. It’s not so much that it feels it will wear through your skin; it feels as though it’s going to crush everything you hold dear! Before starting the Atlantic crossing, in one of my more melodramatic (and, looking at it now, horrifically egotistical) moments, I considered (very briefly (I’m not sure why I’m admitting this; it’s incredibly vain and rather embarrassing!)) whether it might be a good idea to donate some sperm before I left, just in case I didn’t make it back, for whatever reason, and someone quite fancied using it (as you do!). Well, after having just gone out for a relatively short ride on my bike, I’ve been having similar thoughts for slightly different reasons. Although I’m not expecting there to be any increased possibility of death on this journey, I’m a little concerned that my capability to produce offspring may be severely reduced by sitting on what can only be described as an instrument of torture for over 6,000 miles. And, if I’m honest with you, I value that part of my anatomy highly.

If you look at the website for this particular saddle (the infamous Brooks), and glance at the picture they put for the “Classic” saddle before it flips around, they could not be more misleading. If that person actually sat back, rather than standing up elegantly, I can guarantee that they wouldn’t be happy for long! I’ve been told that eventually, after a bit of wearing in, they become the comfiest thing in the world and it will feel like you’re sitting on air. Personally, I have a suspicion that, while it may appear that way, the real explanation is that, by then, you have lost all sensation and could be sitting on a saddle of nails and wouldn’t notice. Sooner or later, I guess I’m going to have to find out!

But I can’t escape the bike, the saddle, or the hill just down the road (which is really really steep!). Training is really starting properly now, and I’m going to be seen covering as many miles as I can possibly bring myself to over the next 6 weeks, in a desperate attempt to convert my body into a lean cycling machine. However, if you spot me out on the roads, please be careful. There’s one aspect of the trip I definitely seem to be continuing from the Atlantic crossing: I’m really no good at straight lines!

It’s now over 10 months since I rowed into Nelson’s Dockyard, Antigua, having spent 75 days, 4 hours and 43 minutes gradually losing my mind onboard Pacific Pete. Since then, the most common question people have asked me is, quite simply, “Why?!”.

In many ways it’s not an easy question to answer, except one: FARM-Africa.

I’m the first person to admit that, when I initially got the idea to attempt a solo and unsupported crossing of the Atlantic Ocean, many years ago, my primary motivation was not to raise loads of money; I simply wanted to find out if I could do it or not. But I quickly realised that it also provided a fantastic opportunity to raise a lot of money for charity, and set about finding one that I wanted to get behind.

After a lot of searching around, I stumbled upon FARM-Africa, a charity that I’d actually never heard of before. Despite this, I was immediately struck by their intelligent and sensible approach to helping the poorest families in eastern and South Africa. Ever since then, I’ve been continually impressed by all the people involved in the charity, and the fact that they all seem to genuinely believe in the work that they’re doing and get excited about the successes they achieve.

Thanks to all of your fantastic support, we managed to raise over £20,000 for FARM-Africa, specifically for the Dairy Goat and Capacity Building project in Kenya. Recently, I received an update of the work that is being done there. It’s provided me with the easiest answer in the world for justifying why the row was worthwhile:

FARM-Africa’s Dairy Goat and Capacity Building project is now working directly with 1,050 very poor rural farmers (60% women) in 21 farmers’ groups in 10 locations in the Kitui and Mwingi districts of Eastern Kenya. These districts are characterised by high levels of poverty and the project’s principle aim is to reduce poverty and insecurity in a sustainable way: very poor farmers are supported in building their productive assets through dairy goat breeding.

25 farmer groups have received training in best practice dairy goat husbandry and 1,223 local goats have been loaned to farmers, elected as those being in the greatest need, as the first stage to building their assets. These goats will be serviced by pure Toggenburgs to produce a highly-productive goat cross-breed that can survive well in local conditions. Currently new members are enjoying the health benefits of having goat milk for their families. When their goats kid, farmers return two local goats to the project for distribution to other farmers.

14 breeding stations have been established. Group members selected to run the breeding stations have been fully trained in caring for the 44 Toggenburgs that have been imported and running an effective breeding station to ensure a local supply of Toggenburgs. To date, seven pure Toggenburgs have been born. All Toggenburgs have been vaccinated against the most prevalent local diseases. 21 buck stations have been established and the buck-keepers fully trained in caring for their Toggenburg bucks and keeping records of the local goats they service. 2,897 buck services were recorded in the first quarter of 2008. To date 930 1/2 Toggenburg cross kids have been born as well as 20 ¾ Toggenburg cross kids.

A significant part of FARM-Africa’s Dairy Goat project is the establishment of community-based animal health services which ensure that farmers can access basic services easily and can afford to use them to keep their goats healthy and productive. To date, 21 Community Animal Health Workers (CAHWs) and seven Animal Health Assistants have been trained to deliver basic animal healthcare and have attended 24,636 cases in their communities and benefited the livelihoods of some 14,000 farmers. CAHWs receive regular refresher training to ensure that their skills and knowledge are consistently improved. The CAHWs work with the Animal Health Department to vaccinate goats against PPR in Mwingi and Kitui as a result of PPR outbreak in the neighbouring Tana River, Garissa and Isiolo among other districts.

Two other issues, critical to the success of goat-breeding, in these semi-arid and arid areas are supply of water and dry season food. The project has been addressing both of these. We have established 32 water points within communities in the form of shallow wells and trained four people in how to maintain the wells in good condition. FARM-Africa has also distributed a substantial number of fodder trees and plants including 10,000 Leucaena seedlings to establish fodder plots throughout the project sites. Groups have been trained in silage making and hay baling in order to assure a regular supply of good quality animal feed all year so that goats remain in top condition and produce a regular milk supply.  Five demonstration sites have been set up for on-going training and support in hay baling and silage making. Without any intervention there is an excess of good animal feed in the wet season but in the dry season most small scale livestock-keepers feed their animals scraps because they can’t afford to buy in good quality feed which means that the condition and productivity of their livestock suffers.

Now, all those figures are all very well and good, but what does it really mean? This is what it means:

Koki Safari, a poor peasant farmer and a mother of three, has defied odds to become a leading dairy goat farmer in the arid area of Nuu Division, Mwingi District. FARM-Africa’s project coordinator, Jacob Mutemi, describes Koki’s experience as a journey from grass to grace.

“I joined Ngaani Dairy Goat self help group in 2004; the chief called a baraza (public meeting) and the poorest people in our location (I being one of them) were identified and requested to form a self help group. We were told that an organisation, FARM-Africa, wished to assist the poorest within the location. Most of the people could not believe it. I also doubted but decided to join. We formed Ngaani group and registered it with the Ministry of Culture and Social Services.

“At that time, I didn’t have any goats; in fact, I didn’t think I would ever have a goat of my own. Through the project, I was given two local goats for cross-breeding with the Toggenburg breed. In addition to that, the Ngaani group members identified me to keep Toggenburg breeding goats on their behalf. A group of us were then taken for “breeders’ training” in preparation for receiving the Toggenburgs. After we received the goats, all sorts of stories started within the village. Some people were saying the Togenburgs were majini (evil spirits), while others were saying they had caused rain to fail and there would be a big drought unless we stopped keeping them. Such a breed had not been seen in the village before. I, however, continued because I knew my neighbours were wrong since FARM-Africa had taken our group for study tours to Meru and Nyeri to see similar projects where farmers were doing very well with their cross-breeding.

“A lot of changes have taken place since we begun the journey back in September 2004. I have been able to effectively manage the two local goats I received and I now own eight cross-bred goats. Everyone wants these cross-bred goats since I sold mine at KSh 15,000 (£109). My neighbours have also realised the goats are growing fast and are producing more milk than the local goats. My husband and children are very happy with the project. I have been hosting many people who come to see the goats, I have benefited from use of goat manure on our small plot and the milk we get from the goats. Our social status has been on the rise within the village as we are now considered as a good example of those who have succeeded in rearing dairy goats. Our economic status has also risen steadily. Imagine, my home compound, including my house, was valued at KSh 16,000 before the project came; now, within my compound, I have 12 pure Toggenburg goats with a value of KSh 336,000 (£2,457) and eight cross-bred goats valued at KSh 120,000 (£872). My assets have risen from KSh 16,000 (£117) to KSh 471,000 (£3,444) within the short time the project has been with us!

“My children are now very happy! They know that they will not have to drop out of school due to lack of money for school fees.” These were Koki’s words of joy as she recounted how she managed to clear school fee arrears for her child, who will be sitting form four examinations this year.

So there you go: that is why it was worth bothering and why I am so grateful to every single one of you who helped me reach my fundraising target of £20,000.

But simply reading about it is sometimes not enough. The memories of my row - whether good, bad or horrendous - are still pretty raw, as anyone who catches a glimpse of me whenever I see any of the pictures from the crossing will very easily be able to tell, but one of them clearly hasn’t scarred me enough: my bum!

By the time I’d finished the row, my bottom was not a particularly pretty sight. In fact, sitting on anything but the comfiest seat was absolute agony. So, I’m going to do what any sensible person would do; I’m going to get on a bike and ride for approximately 12 weeks, covering over 6,000 miles, in order to visit the very project we were raising money for in Kenya. Given that I haven’t really ridden a bike in 10 years, it could be argued that this isn’t a particularly sensible idea. But I’m fairly confident that it’s not the most stupid idea I’ve ever had, and look what happened when I followed that one through!

On 27th March 2009, exactly one year after completing the row, I will set off from London loaded with everything I could possible need to deal with the challenges ahead of me. Sleeping wherever I find on the way, I’ll head into France and across to Germany. There I will join up with the Danube and follow it across Europe, passing through Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Romania and Bulgaria, before cycling into Turkey. After crossing Turkey, I will have to get myself around the Middle East, via Syria, Jordan and Egypt, where I will meet the Nile. The African leg of my journey will involve cycling along the Nile, through the Sahara, into Sudan. At Khartoum I will leave the Nile and head towards Ethiopia, before finally entering Kenya and battling my way towards Mwingi, my final destination.

There are two main reasons for undertaking this trip. It’s sometimes easy to dismiss things like the reports I’ve included above about the work that’s going on. I want to go there and find out for myself exactly what it’s like, and what FARM-Africa are doing to help, so that next time people ask me what it was for, I can give a first-hand account of the changes that have come about as a result of all your donations.

Secondly, I want more of your money! Many of you were extremely generous last time, which was absolutely fantastic. But, to anyone who didn’t donate, or feels the urge to donate some more, this is your chance. Once again, all of your donations will go straight to FARM-Africa; I’m currently looking for sponsors to help cover the costs of the trip, but am prepared (and expecting) to have to cover the majority of the costs myself. To donate, please visit this page and get your wallets out - big numbers are better than small ones!

The plan now is to run around like a lunatic for the next seven weeks to ensure that I’m fully prepared to set off by the end of March. This website should be kept updated regularly, and you can follow this blog, my Twitter updates and join the Facebook group. Isn’t modern technology great, eh?!

I bet you thought you wouldn’t have to worry about my inane daily updates for a while. I’m afraid they’re back!