Its getting hotter!

Apologies for the lack of photos....wont let me upload them for some strange reason! Grrr! Will try and do separately at a later date.

23 January 2007

With little sign of the visas being ready I decide to focus on my blog and a bit of sleep so book myself a room in the local hotel (with aircon of course!). Little achieved in the day other than several films (all of which I have seen before) and lots of tennis and football…..do manage to puchase a circuit breaker and update my blog though which is increasingly taking on Frankensteinian proportions …. There can be little doubt that I have created a Monster….. Paul (aka Kingo) asked me the other day if I was planning to issue a CD so he could listen to it on the way to work (the inference being that he did not have the time to read it) ….. thought I had put enough photos in to keep him entertained and certainly no plans for a CD just yet….. at just under 17,000 words it’s getting a little chunky. Still only 4 months more to come!

24 and 25 January 2007

A clear break in protocol as I lump two days together…..the main reason being that not a lot happened…..I just sat in my air-conditioned hotel watching tennis (Nadal v Gonzalez etc….and catching up with all the football since Christmas. I understand that this might not necessarily be seen as embracing African culture and seeing Accra in all it’s glory but others have seen it and it does not have that much to offer to someone desperate for aircon and a flushing toilet…..oh and the food is good. I do venture out from the hotel but only for a couple of drinks with Alan (some very shady bars) and to go to the supermarket and stock up on chocolate and diet coke.

26 January 2007

Dawn brings the harsh realities of life in the real (hot) world. Leave the hotel after one last cooked breakfast and a walk round the bookshop over the road – all second hand stuff but it’s English and the shortage of books on the truck is starting to tell. We meet back up with the truck and head off in heavy traffic to the Nigerian embassy to pick up Dylan’s visa then it’s off east with the intention of bush camping close to the Togo border. After several hours on the road, one aborted attempt to stay at an overly expensive hotel (don’t try and lift electrical cables over the top of the truck – the insulation in Africa is not what it should be) and in fading light Stuart gets on the truck to announce that while he is not sure how it has happened, we appear to be at the border. While we would not normally try a border crossing this late (it normally takes to long) they are open till 10 and we decide to chance it. As luck would have it the crossing is pretty efficient with no no-man’s land and just a array of massive concrete structures to navigate through (none of which seem to serve a purpose). The main feature is the toilet on the Ghanaian side….1,000 cedi (6p) to use and he even gives you a couple of sheets of newspaper to use in the absence of any loo roll. Why anyone would sit on the toilets is beyond me….fairly sure there are several unusual and not so unusual African diseases you could contract in just a single sitting (not misspelt!). Right enough of that, toilets safely negotiated we cross through and are on Togolese soil by 9 o’clock and straight into the Capital, Lome, which sits right on the border and right on the coast. Finding campsites in the dark is not the easiest thing we have attempted on this trip and it is a good hour before we track one down that is suitable….the tell tale sign of the Oasis Overland truck gives it away a little. All the Oasis gang are asleep with reports that some on board have Malaria although tests have revealed that some of the ill one’s are all clear while some of those that feel fine have tested positive….very worrying all the same. Right on the beach but not a lot of air and a very sticky night after sampling a local beer with a late tea. A long old day but crossing the border without too much fuss is always a bonus.

27 January 2007

Humid beyond belief…..looked up humidity in the dictionary this morning and it just says ‘see Togo’! A bucket shower cools me down for a nano-second and then it’s as you were. Set off into the Capital Lome but get stuck in sand just outside the gate to the campsite - sandmats and an hour of digging and we are on our way.

Arriving in Lome we are flagged down by a Police motorcyclist and suspect we are in for the Togo slant on the traditional West African police game called ‘let’s con a tourist’. We are therefore very pleasantly surprised when this smiley faced officer just wants to give us an escort round Lome and show us the fetish market. Stopping all traffic for us we turn round and race across Lome stopping for nothing until we reach the Fetish market. We say goodbye to our very happy copper and go for a tour round the market which is much bigger than the one in Bamako. All the usual unpleasant items are on display from leopard and Parrot heads to Elephant’s feet (to be ground up for treatment of Elephantitis) and masses of skins, quills etc. More than a little worrying given how many of these animals are endangered both by poaching for skins and the bushmeat trade. Incidentally I read an article not so long ago that identified the bushmeat trade (and the millions of tonnes of wildlife involved per year) as a major facilitator in allowing diseases to mutate and attack humans rather than animals (hope that makes sense). Anyway I digress…. We are ushered into a small hut where we meet Limikpo Jacob the President du Marche des Fetiches (straight off the business card he gave Dave!). We are told that the majority of items on display in the main market are for tourists and that those in the know need to come and see him for the things that count….ebony seeds to put under your pillow to improve you memory, an erection stick (sure you can work that one out), a small stick with a bit of string wrapped round it that you talked to before going travelling and the love stick which you rubbed and said the name of the person you fancied 6 or 7 times and Bob’s yer Uncle your good to go!

Leave the Fetish market for a quick tour of the town but find a pizzeria (3^rd in 5 days) and see very little of the rest of Lome before we head back to the Campsite for a dip in the sea (very strong rip tides and heavy waves so a walk long the beach is required to find somewhere safe!). Spend the evening sat round a table under the Palm trees yards from the sea drinking too much lager and talking a lot of nonsense! Another oppressively hot night!

28 January 2007

Early start proves somewhat wasted as our attempts to turn round in the car park and avoid getting stuck in the sand outside sees us get stuck in the sand in the car park instead. Any plans to make the Benin border are thwarted as all attempts to dig ourselves out prove futile and after 4 hours the truck is up to the top of its wheel arches in sand. The rest of the day is spent lounging on the beach while a group of 6 or more hardy locals use a jack and logs to try and extricate the truck from its sandy grave. Just when we start to discuss burying the truck and walking away or the possibility of getting a tow out the jacking and underpinning with logs proves successful and we are back on terra firma facing towards the exit. Unfortunately it is 10 hours since we first set out and have little option but to pitch our tents and try again in the morning.

Relevant songs….. Toto … Africa (genius), Bob Marley and Trenchtown, Bernard Cribbins…There I was diggin’ this ‘ole! Etc….

At least the afternoon on the beach was entertaining as hundreds of well to do Togolese pack the beach. Every group seem to have its own music system and competes in terms of volume with their neighbours. In terms of dancing it would appear that the preferred technique is to stick your bum as far out as possible and then waddle while doing a chicken impersonation. Very popular but can’t see it taking on in the UK. Still the men on stilts were good and the only disappointment was the amount of rubbish the better off part of Togolese society left behind them.

Retire to bed fairly early but difficult to sleep because of a combination of heat and Bob Marley. Now I know many people like Bob Marley but there is a limit and one album played repetitively across an entire continent cannot be good for musical diversity. Thankfully it is turned off before I have a chance to take an axe to the speakers!

29 January 2007

Second time lucky! We manage to get out of the campsite and onto tarmac. 40 minutes later and we arrive at the border with Benin. Togo is only 56km wide so crossing it does not take long especially with half decent roads. I cannot close the chapter on Togo without a few snippets of info. Togo was a German protectorate from 1884 until the end of the First World War. This marked a special period in Togolese History as the beaches were covered in towels from very early in the morning. After World War One the British and French grabbed the territory and divided it between them. The English bit went to Ghana, the French bit became Togo. What follows in recent decades has all been about Gnassinbe Eyadema. In 1963 he was one of a group of soldiers who assassinated the then President. Power was handed over before Eyadema wrestled it back in 1967. Since then Eyadema has pretty much ruled with an iron fist and a good deal of controversy. Never out of power for long, elections have been fraudulent or political opponents driven into exile or banned from running for power on various ‘trumped up’ charges.

Right back to the Benin border….we go to get our exit visa stamped and Fran who is clearly miles away is asked where she is going. After two failed attempts by the customs official I answer ‘Benin’ for her. A second official then starts shouting repeatedly at Fran….’you wake up like this girl, you dreaming?’ Hilarious from my side of the table but then you have to know Fran to understand this in full. Not in the slightest bit happy. Whoops!

Anyway we cross the border with little or no fuss and head into Benin. We drive through Cotonou (means death apparently – all Voodoo links) and head to Ganvié where some of the team go for a boat tour of the stilt village which Tom applied his ‘actually it was alright’ catchphrase to. I myself head for the air conditioned Western Union bank to get some cash changed and the Boulangerie and Patisserie for a lemon Danish ….. think I got the better deal. The market place in Ganvié has all the hustle and bustle you might expect and gives many examples of how the West African’s overcome the need for Maternity Leave. Not sure if Karen (who has a few months to go before number two arrives) would want to follow this lead but you simply strap the baby to your back, pile your belongings on your head and crack on with the task at hand….none of this sitting on the sofa watching Kilroy and Trisha for 6 months. Apologies if this sounds sexist I only seek to provide alternatives to those with child!

Anyway enough of the drivel, we head north and bush camp after taking a dead end into the forest much to the amusement of 3 local women with a small child who stand at the back of the truck watching us for a couple of hours! A lot of things crawling around and the with leaves a foot across falling from the trees there is a fair bit to keep you on your toes as we sit around having tea. Very early night especially as Benin is 1hr ahead of Togo and the UK!

30 January 2007

Leave out bush camp and head for Abomey, once capital of the Fon kingdom, Dahomey (which became the country’s post colonial name for a while), and its fearsome female fighters. Now a Unesco site Abomey’s Royal palace dates from 1645 when the 3^rd king built the first palace, each subsequent King added another layer or palace to the structure which became one of Africa’s most awesome indigenous structures. Unfortunately the 10^th King set fire to the lot following defeat by the French (I usually want to destroy things when we lose to the French so can empathise) what little remains has been lovingly restored and covered in rusting corrugated iron which really tops it off nicely.

After Abomey we head for the joys of Nigeria. Already having been fleeced to the tune of $100 for a visa we hoped the border crossing would be straightforward but still have to wait more than an hour while the temperature tops 100 degrees. Once across the border we head inland for Ibadan our target for camp that evening. Unfortunately 9 police, immigration, passport and people trafficking stops in the space of about 10km takes 3 or 4 hours! At one stop Stuart’s freedom looks in jeopardy as the incompetent official leaps on the fact that he has an Australian and British passport telling him this is illegal. He eventually lets us go but remains unconvinced despite all of us trying in vain to show him the difference between his arse and his elbow. The delays result in us bush camping for the second night in a row….sleeping out in the open in one of the most lawless countries on the planet…top fun. With little water and very little food or gas we throw most of what we have in a pan and go for it. With hindsight changing the gas bottle and possibly not boiling the water fully may have been a bit of a mistake but more of that later. A couple of beers to calm any nerves about our surroundings and we head for bed.

31 January 2007

Up early and on the road with Nigeria’s capital Abuja as our target (now hands up who thought it was still Lagos?). Anyway early progress is limited due to more stops for passport and vehicle checks etc. Just before lunch we reach Ibadan which, together with Lagos, makes up a conurbation of over 21 million people. The lonely planet says of Ibadan ‘Nigeria’s second most popular city Ibadan is not the prettiest (or cheapest) but at least it’s not Lagos’! Some similarities remain though as some kind casually dressed men throw a block of wood under the front wheels of the truck and then block the back wheels with a bolder. We are told that they are representatives of the local council and they have to sell us permits for loading/unloading and radio/tv. Stuart asks why neither of them have any uniform and why the allegedly more senior of them has no I.D. The so called main man then produces his I.D which Stuart inspects and then passes to an on looking policeman pointing out that this looks nothing like him. The policeman seems very reluctant to get involved and Stuart’s various ploys to wriggle out including removing the obstacles simply lead to more angry exchanges. Eventually Stu agrees to pay the charge if he can do so at a local council office and walks away with the policeman who assures him that this is normal procedure and a valid charge (at this point we are honoured by a royal flypast of the Nigerian porker division!). After negotiating them down to $200 we leave them behind with the advice to ‘wear a mask next time’ and head in search of the infamous security road to Abuja. Not sure the Nigerian dictionary has a definition of security.....it probably just says see scams, internet fraud, highway robbery, bandits and kidnapping of oil workers. Incidentally my idea of a group of us getting a bush taxi across the Nigerian Delta, each wearing a T-Shirt with the Shell logo and Senior Manager on it is quickly rejected.

Meanwhile……Just when we were starting to believe the hype about Nigeria, a Military Policeman offers to show us the way to the Abuja road and jumps on board guiding us round an increasingly hot, dusty and noisy Ibadan. Heading off for Abuja progress is again slow and we are still stopped despite our bright shiny permits. The plan was to drive through the night and make Abuja but at one of the police stops we are advised not to drive at night as armed bandits are hijacking vehicles further down the road. Reluctantly we find a bush camp which is little more than a ploughed field a hundred yards from the main road but beggars can’t be choosers. It is at this point that myself and Su are hit by a lurgy with stomach cramps followed by headaches, nausea etc…..I head straight for my tent and am supplied with a carrier bag and water. Lying in a tent, in the dark, in Nigeria, in the middle of nowhere being sick into a bag is bad enough however it soon gets worse. I fail to notice that the bag has a hole in it so I am soon lying in my own vomit. With no energy to move I simply go to sleep or at least I would have done had it not been for the local happy clapping church who have invested in a huge p.a system and respond in unison to an overenthusiastic preacher for what feels like hours. I can honestly say I have never felt less religious in my life. When gun shots ring out in the direction of the road later that evening, the suspicion is that they were firing at the speakers. If so I am not sure a court in the land could convict them, well not a court in this land at least.

The evening gets more bizarre as in the middle of the night we are woken by a herd of cows that walk through the middle of our tightly arranged camp…..I did have to get this point confirmed as I thought I was losing the plot completely. Early morning brings a new peril; the feeling that I have 200 acrobats doing downward spirals through my intestinal tract. The more squeamish of you might wish to look away at this point. Now with no head torch and very little time I try to find my shorts, sandals, toilet roll and a working pair of legs to get out of my tent and dig a whole in the ground….how can I put this…..let’s just say for any Americans reading, this is not Hollywood and there was no happy ending for the lead role on this occasion.

1 February 2007

We try to break camp at 6.30 but a few more have been struck down the theory being that the lack of gas/inability to boil the water for long enough was our downfall. We leave at 7 and spend a very long day on the road with only toilet stops and no time to get breakfast or lunch. Not that I was complaining as I spent most of the day asleep on the mattresses at the back….. not before cranking up the amp and sticking Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire on. Yes I know it’s an old one but……I was going to follow it with Nina Simone - Feeling Good, Elvis Costello’s Accidents will happen and The Eurythmics Here comes the rain again but suspected a riot brewing……

We eventually make Abuja after more stops including one where the armed police choose (that’s 20,000 words!!) to board the truck and search Alan’s bag (he was wearing a South African rugby shirt so no sympathy from me). He is asked various questions about his Dogon mask, which they ask him to wear, and given lots of praise about his binoculars. All very weird! Lots of smiles though! Abuja has long been an oasis on the trip as we found out some time ago that we were staying at the Sheraton. Alas it is the Sheraton truck depot – an area of scrubland which the lucky residents of the hotel will never see. The toilets are 150 yards away up the hill and round the tennis courts and with stomachs still uncertain many of us are overjoyed when Stu (who is not well either) tracks down a cheap hotel as an alternative.

2 February 2007

Not much achieved other than a little bit of time in the Internet and checking on who else has been struck down. Other than that it’s sleep, washing clothes, tent and rollmat. The high point of the day was Scooby Do and Dangermouse on Nigerian TV which was then topped a few hours later by Nigerian Who wants to be a Millionaire….the £16,000 equivalent question was which ocean is the Seychelles in….she went for ask the audience but 26% went for the Antarctic with a similar amount going for Indian….the fastest finger question was place these animals in order of size starting with the smallest first…..mouse, chicken, crocodile and elephant. One bloke got it wrong and several took 10 seconds or more to work it out….all quite worrying really! Unrelated but did you know that Nigeria’s is home to 20% of Africa’s entire population.

3 February 2007

Leave Abuja for the 500km journey north east via Jos (Jesus our saviour) to Bauchi and the Yankari nature reserve. A much more pleasant view of Nigeria which, I hope, does the country a lot more justice. All police stops are friendly with many even entertaining, with officials bored of standing by the road all day practicing marching drills or just wanting to pass the time of day and wish us well. We arrive at Yankari in the dark and struggle through dinner preparation with us all feeling more than a little weary. By the time we hit the bar it’s gone ten. Tom, Stu and Fran return from sampling the Wiki Warm Springs highly excited by the fact they could hear a lion breathing as they swam in the springs. A later roar from the bush and other reports confirms that they are not losing the plot.

Sat talking to the other overlanders parked up at the campsite we are slightly worried to hear that they just missed a hijacking by bandits choosing to bushcamp under a bridge and seeing the next four trucks stopped by a group of gunmen swarming all over the road and scattering the occupants back from whence they came in search of cover. As I said we are glad to be well clear of the Delta!

4 February 2007

At last a cold night and the sleeping bag actually serves a purpose rather than doubling as my pillow. The morning is spent bathing in the spring water, a channel 10m wide by 100m long, fairly strong currents and the feeling that it’s the first bath any of us have had since November. Absolute bliss and we are all feeling cleaner and better as a result. The afternoon’s game drive falls a bit flat as we cannot get the truck down many of the tracks and get nowhere near the one pan that would give us our best chance of seeing Lions and Elephants but at least we catch the second half of the Spurs v Man Utd game.

5 February 2007

We are woken at 6 by a troop of twenty or so Baboons on the prowl and looking for mischief. After tearing apart a couple of tents from another overland truck yesterday they clearly cannot be trusted to play nicely. Within minutes they are all over the truck leaping from the trees onto the roof, chasing and fighting one another stopping only to display some fairly impressive breakdancing routines. Stuart and Dylan who sleep on the truck have no chance and attempts to move them on fail until one of the game wardens approaches with a gun and they all scatter to the four winds.

We leave for a game drive round the reserve with seven of us in the back of a pick-up with two more sat inside. It feels great to be out in a reserve again and brings back great memories of time spent looking for Ellies, Leopards etc in Phinda and Tembe (South Africa). A great morning. Loads of birdlife, a couple of breeding herds of ellies, Hartebeest (a first for me) and a herd of stampeding buffalo.

We leave for the long drive to Calabar but only get 30km out of the reserve when the hose for the power steering fluid ruptures and we grind to a halt. Initial efforts to patch things up fail and Dylan and Tom eventually get a lift to a nearby village for the necessary parts. Its boiling hot and we sit for 3 hours fighting off the flies before we get back on the road and head back towards Jos where we bushcamp for the night. As usual the time is not wasted and the theme for the afternoon is monkey related songs…

Primate Dancer by Tina Turner

Hanging Around by the Stranglers

Silverback by Justin Timberlake etc.

6 February 2007

Head through Jos and south towards Calabar. Initial progress is good but a couple of attempted scams (road tax!) and a stop for not having seat belts where the policeman threatens to impound the vehicle. This one is particularly rich as several trucks drive past with Nigerians clinging to ever corner. We stop at the bank to get cash but it is unable to change money. Instead the manager sends a teller with us to find a black marketeer that will, he also shows us to a cyber café (does not work) and a market. It’s a contradictory old place Nigeria.

In fading light we eventually find a spot to bushcamp. Almost in the middle of a village we are visited by the chief who returns with his brothers and the rest of his family and even takes away and fills some of our Jerry cans. Extremely hospitable, wants nothing in return and just says god will see us return. This is fairly typical of the sort of welcome the vast majority of Nigerians have given us. Directions are given readily and with a smile, people just want to chat and while scams do exist I have been left with a very positive view of Nigeria. One lady actually ran out to the truck to give Su the change she had forgotten.

Other observations of Nigeria….

There are two types of Petrol station – government and private. The government run ones are cheaper and as a result have huge queues (100 vehicles plus) as and when they actually have fuel which bizarrely is in short supply!

Everyone drives with one hand on the horn constantly pipping as they overtake or as a warning to anyone who cares to listen.

Lots of signs on buildings or land saying ~This building /land is not for sale –beware 419. I can only assume that this is to prevent some sort of scam.

People shout white man or master at you a lot.

7 February 2007

Up at 5.30 and on the road by 7 but not before the chief and his entourage have returned to watch us have breakfast and wave us on our way. He also brings us a huge bucket of oranges and cashew fruit. Can’t say I would recommend the latter as the texture is a bit strange and a whole one will glue your teeth together. Very welcome all the same and we reciprocate by giving him all the empty plastic bottles we have (very useful and well received in these here parts).

A long day on the road. We eventually reach the Welcome to Paradise City Hotel after failing to get into the Drill ranch because the American woman who runs it says the septic tank is broken (a septic without a septic). The Oasis Overland truck is here and after a shower and a shave (the first since Abuja on 2 February) we head out for a few quiet beers and some street food (bits of gristle wrapped in paper with loads of paprika). Oh nearly forgot, we stop at the Cameroon embassy for visas and Stu thinks it funny to tell us all that they have stopped doing them and that we have to go back to Abuja…. The reaction on the truck varies from furious rage to hilarious laughter. Revenge will be had!