Nary and Jamie have found Hillary Clington, and they opt for Air Supply. Which Vanessa and Ralph are just now finishing, with Ralph confirming with the mechanic that they need to pump until it's harder and Vanessa saying, "He wants this thing to pop." Get a room, you two. But a kid successfully rides away on it, and Vanessa and Ralph are off to be U-Turned. They and the "teachers" spot each other as Nary and Jamie look for the bike shop. "Yeah, we're behind," Vanessa says. They're upset but not surprised to see themselves U-Turned by Brendon and Rachel, and they unhappily head to the water task. "We're getting our asses handed to us right now," Ralph says. Like that's news.
After the ads, as they pass a tractor on the road en route to the water containers, Ralph talks about how frustrated he is because he hates losing. You'd think he'd be used to it after seven legs. Vanessa points out that they've come back from behind before, but Ralph says the odds are against them. Nary and Jamie get to the bike shop and get to work. Brendon and Rachel find a house with jugs in front of it and start loading up the empties, then jog with them and the cart to the line for the well, which is not a welcoming sight. "The line at this point is almost out to the road," Rachel says. While waiting, she asks Brendon, "Can we drink this water?" Brendon doesn't seem to think that's a good idea. Well, he's the PhD student.
Heading to the farm, Bopper confidently states, "We're goin' to the final three and we're gonna win the million dollars. But we would still like to enjoy one first place before we get there." That said, they arrive and notice a bunch of people in white beekeeper suits waiting out in the barnyard. Sure enough, the Roadblock clue is related. But before we get to that, Phil tells us that agriculture accounts for more than half of Tanzania's economy. There certainly are a lot of bananas and apples being schlepped around in this b-roll, but Phil insists that honey "plays a major role in this county's food supply." Cut to swarms of bees buzzing like jet engine, as Phil tells us that whoever does the Roadblock needs to put on one of the bee-suits, then harvest honey from a hive, "surrounded by thousands of swarming bees." These aren't your domestic, free-standing, white hives, but wooden mailboxes or hollow logs nailed to trees at about shoulder level, with hinged lids so you can reach in and grab yourself some honeycomb, provided you're either suited up or don't mind pulling a Scully. Wearing a bee-suit himself and holding yet another five-gallon bucket, Phil says they'll get their next clue from the chief beekeeper after collecting 500 grams of honey. Which is not a lot. I have more honey than that in my kitchen right now, and zero bees.