About

The idea of embarking on an Africa overland adventure has been a pipe dream of mine for a while. With a natural career break on the horizon, now seems as good a time as any.

Now you may be thinking: “Ok, but why carry on all the way to Scotland?”. Good question. It was a couple years ago when a cousin of mine, Andrew Kinmont, started tracing my family tree back to a tiny area in Scotland, east of Perth, approximately 15 square kilometres in size. It turns out the gene pool of my family name constitutes a relatively un-noble bunch of farm servants and small-scale farmers. In addition, there are a good few Border Reivers in there who rode atop “sturdy ponies” and specialized in cattle rustling, gorilla warfare, murder, arson and pretty much anything that falls under the broad definition of “pillaging” along the English Scottish border back in the 14th-17th century. Considering these rich cultural ties, and the fact that I have never set foot in Scotland, it seemed an apt choice for an end-point to the trip.

The journey is an attempt to explore the unmapped parts of Africa, before the entire continent is networked with tar roads and one is able to complete a trip like this in a Yaris. An attempt to connect with a continent where I was born, one I feel I am only starting to get to know.