The Three O’Clock Storm
The storm eventually passed. The memory never did.
Travelling by motorcycle means you're completely exposed to the weather, and during Kenya's wet season the afternoon storms arrived with remarkable punctuality. Every day, around three o'clock, the skies would open.
One afternoon, we found ourselves sheltering from the deluge inside the tiny shop of a roadside service station.
It was the wet season in Kenya and right on cue, the afternoon rains arrived around three o'clock. It wasn't rain – it was sheets of water falling from the sky.
We pulled into a service station and waited it out, crammed into a tiny shopfront with a handful of locals. We chatted and laughed, perfectly at ease, while the shop attendant watched American soap operas on her phone at full volume.
When the storm passed, we rode on.
Excerpt from : The Accidental Motorcyclist, 2026
It was an ordinary petrol station on an ordinary afternoon. But it became one of those moments that captured the spirit of the journey.
