Man Plans and the Universe Laughs
Tom and Lauren’s Ride Across Africa on 125cc Motorcycles
Interviewed on the 01.02.2026
“People get stuck in analysis paralysis. Especially when it comes to travelling. It’s too expensive. I don’t have enough savings. My gear won’t hold up… You’ll always find a reason not to leave, because staying is comfortable. But tomorrow is never guaranteed. What we do have control over is the present moment. It’s better to try and fail than to never try at all.” - Tom
For Tom and Lauren, that wasn’t just a reflection. It was a turning point. Leaving doesn’t happen when you’re ready. It happens when you accept that you may never be. Like many of us, they could have waited for more savings, better timing, better equipment. But waiting has a way of disguising fear as logic. We’ve all heard older generations speak about their regrets: the trips not taken, the risks avoided, the dreams postponed. “I wish I had done that when I was your age.” Tom and Lauren simply decided they didn’t want to become that sentence.
They left the UK and crossed 31 African countries, riding more than 46,000 kilometers on a pair of 125cc Hondas CG125, not the kind of bikes most people imagine when they think about riding across a continent. When people talk about overland travel, they tend to picture big adventure motorcycles built to carry heavy luggage and cover long distances comfortably. Others choose lightweight off-road bikes that are easier to handle on rough tracks.
Tom and Lauren chose something simpler.
Their bikes weren’t made for extreme off-road riding, and they weren’t designed to cruise endlessly on highways either. They were small, everyday machines. Not impressive, not powerful, just steady and familiar.
And that familiarity mattered.
They both rode the exact same model meaning that if something broke, they only needed one set of tools. When they learned how to fix one bike, they were actually learning how to fix both. Maintenance became something they could handle themselves, instead of something intimidating.
They didn’t wait for the “right” bike or the right time. They started with what they already had and adapted as they went. The perfect bike doesn’t exist, so go with the one you have.
Travelling as a couple shaped the experience just as much as the road itself. Life on the road isn’t a vacation, it’s a full-time job. Every day brings decisions: where to sleep, where to find fuel, how far to push, whether the bike will hold up. You navigate language barriers, unfamiliar cultures, mechanical doubts and physical fatigue.
Being two makes it sustainable. They divide responsibilities naturally. When something goes wrong, they approach it methodically; who handles the logistics, who looks at the bike, who speaks to locals. Problems feel smaller when they’re shared.
But travelling together also requires balance. They don’t always move at the same rhythm. One might want to stop for a photo or slow down for a day. The other might want to keep pushing forward. Desires don’t always align, and that demands patience and communication.
But what you gain is something you can’t measure. You don’t carry the memories alone: the landscapes, the breakdowns, the small victories at the end of hard days. When you travel solo, you experience everything intensely, but you hold it alone. Together, those moments become shared anchors in time.
Over time, they realised that what stayed with them most wasn’t only the distance covered or the terrain conquered, but the people they met along the way.
“You’ve always got money in your pocket when a smile is your currency. Stepping out of your comfort zone strips life back to something more raw and real. You realise that people who seem different from you are often deeply similar.” - Tom
The road also reshaped them individually.
Completing the UK to South Africa leg filled Tom with pride. Conquering the Banyo, crossing hundreds of kilometres of rough dirt road that becomes nearly impassable during the rainy season, became a milestone.
“I think this trip showed me how patient I can be. It gave me more confidence in myself and in what is possible to overcome. The Banyo crossing, which I initially feared, ended up becoming one of the highlights of the trip.” - Tom
For Lauren, the transformation was even more personal. When they met, she didn’t even have a driving licence. Eight months before departure, she passed her test and committed fully to the journey. That alone speaks volumes about the dedication they had, not only to the trip, but to each other.
“Leading up to the trip – I was stressed, nervous, unsure of what was to come. I had minimal experience with riding, camping, travel and it was a relatively new relationship so I had many concerns and worries. If I could do it all again I would. Overplanning can bring more anxiety than the anxiety of just figuring it out as you go along.” - Lauren
After tens of thousands of kilometres, they can see the mistakes they made. The things they overpacked. The things they underestimated. The money spent unnecessarily. But they don’t regret leaving before everything was figured out. Because the road doesn’t reward perfection. It rewards movement. As Tom says:
“Man plans… and the universe laughs.”
Connect with Tom & Lauren here: Lauren's Instagram Tom's Instagram.
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