Marc Freedman/Mikael Strandberg

African Laughter

Laughter. If you don´t know how to laugh, go to Africa. It kind of begins in the stomach. Works its way up through the body and then explodes through the mouth.
 
My journey from Nairobi to Cape of Aghulaes, South Africa, was one of the happiest in my life. It took 8 months. I caught malaria and it was with me for a long time. It wasn´t easy. But I hardly remember that.
 
East Africa with its wild animals and wonderful people is unique. Once one has experienced it, you constantly want to return. And I have. But I laughed so much this time. Much due to my companions Steve Jewell, and on and off Marc Freedman. I had at least 10 roaring laughters as explained above. Each day. It could be a simple happening like cycling through the savanna. Far in between villages. Suddenly, in the middle of nowhere, a tiny shack turned up of corrugated iron. Hot and dusty outside. Only the door pianted blue, with a text saying:
 
“Paradise Hotel.”
 
We stopped there and ordered an omelette. The smiling owner asked:
 
“One or two egg omelette?”
 
We said two, he said with a laughter:
 
“Eggs finished!”
 
I saw I sign behind him saying:
 
“Credit is only given to people over 85. If they´re accompanied by their parents.”
 
Steve and I arrived at Cape of Agulhaes late september. I had spent almost 2½ years getting there. From North Cape, Norway. And approx 33 000 km. And I had learned how to properly laugh.

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