Cross Country Mayhem

Hello all,

A little out of order but the Sierra Leone email will follow.... This is much more interesting : )

After 92 days of travelling together and a difference of opinion as to what to do next, it was time for a change. So I left Marc in Freetown and set off on the Government bus to Kabala. Thank you very much Colonel Gaddafi for this lovely bus whose cushion covers have not worn off yet and there is only one person per seat. Nearly started to cry when saying goodbye to Marc who kindly dropped me off at 6am in the morning. When I think back on what we've been through, it blows me away and despite many differences I miss him and the lifestyle we had, but as all people who follow their dreams know, every dream has a beginning and an end, and it was time for me to be my own woman again.

Amazingly in the hostel at Kabala, I met 2 travellers in their 50's who were making an extensive trip around West Africa. Amazing because there are no tourists in this incredibly poor part of West Africa. They gave me some good tips and we swopped stories for hours. When I put my tent up in the backyard, I acquired 1/2 the village as an audience who couldn't believe that this was my house. The security guard worried about me being attacked by packs of dogs that roamed the village at night whilst the other travellers were just worried for my safety so I ended up moving my tent 3 times till we settled on the front porch.

My alarm woke me up at 5am, pitch black still but determined to be at the bus park for 5.30am to be absolutely sure of not missing the 4-wheel drive transport to the boarder with Guinea. It was impossible to ascertain what time or even if the car was going because Sierra-Leones have a habit of telling you what you want to hear. I couldn't even find out what day was market day, which is the only day for guaranteed transport. Everyone kept on trying to sell me motorbike rides. I'd been informed that this was one of the worst roads in Africa, even worse than in Congo!! At 7.30am I was still sitting there having watched the drivers wake up (sleep in their cars) and religiously brush their teeth, all using the same brush. S-L and Guinea are the two poorest countries I have ever been to. The car that I had been promised was going to Guinea was now going for maintenance instead. Not wanting to have to wake up at 5am for however many days I started to negotiate with a moto driver.

The second one gave me confidence and a good price, so we went to his house so I could change into warmer clothes and he could pick up a pump and some spare parts. I brought extra food with me incase this went overnight and wasn't worried about sleeping in the bush as I had my tent. Some kids told me he was the senior rider and he told everyone I was his wife!! The road was truely horrendous. Remember "Kick Start", the dirt bike program where riders have to balance on narrow beams and ride up boulders, across wooden logs and rivers etc. It was like that except we weren't on a dirt bike and this was for 4hrs rather than 2mins. After half an hour of thinking "today is a good day to die" a la Wharf from Star Trek, I started to relax because Agrit proved to be an excellant driver. Actually a beautiful bush drive with blue skies and a crisp Autumn morning.

We stopped for "chop" (food) and I went for a coffee. This was bought for me by a policeman on his way to the next customs post who waved us through sans bribe when we passed him again 20 minutes later. Another policeman chatted me up and tried to hug me (no way!), several tried to chat me up but traveling as a solo white woman throws officials and I was only asked for a bribe directly once. Agri had to pay a few which are built into the price. Corruption stinks.

Passport control proved no problem, the lady on the Guinean side couldn't even find the visa... and caved in as soon as I said "no" to the requested 10,000Guinean Francs (US$2.5). Agri had told her I don't speak French which I figured could be an advantage. At customs I tried to help him when they insisted on a laissez faire for the taxi but to no avail. He thought it was quite sweet though. The police bribes he has to pay regardless of what I'd do (which is not pay them) because they know him and he'll get trouble for it later. We arrived in Faranah at 12.30pm which was very fast. Impressed with his skills I gave him a $5 tip which he was ecstatic about, and I'm going to recommend him on Thorn Tree. Bad driver and that road is serious accident trouble.

As it was so early I set off to find a bush taxi or minibus for Kissidou which is a 2 hour drive away on good roads. The minibus was a wreck. The gears had to be scraped in, if he could find it, the steering wheel had to be yanked through a strange noise to turn, the windscreen infront of the driver was cracked so he had to look out the window to see, the guages on the dash didn't work and the windows in the back were cut out of the metal plate. I was squashed into the front seat with one other guy so the hard rim cut into my back and was partially sitting on the engine which got really hot - they did give me a jacket to cover that.

Waiting for petrol took an age. A guy was trying to give me his telephone number whilst I watched 2 other men lifting a motorbike onto the top of the minibus to tie it over the luggage. A girl with a black eye, and potentially mentally retarded was giving out trouble to two other men whilst another tried to restrain her. Her little sister (who had guided her across the road) waited patiently next to her as if she had seen this a thousand times. Another little girl with an icebox on her head kept walking through with shouting "eau glace" when on my left a big arguement broke out because a guy didn't want to have to pay 15,000GF to stand on the back on the minibus (boot open) cause all the seats were full. In S-L and Guinea you always see people hanging on or riding on top. Seems to be the first thing that stops when countries become a little richer. Probably because in an accident those passengers would be in serious trouble, well... more serious trouble.

We broke down 5 times on the way. My seat sharer gave me some oranges. These have the skin peeled but not the pith. There are different ways of eating them. Here the popular way is to cut the top and then squeeze the oranage and suck the fruit out of the top. Religious or hygiene reasons but makes sense to me to not touch the fruit directly. I peeled my and pulled off the segments. My orange benefactor watched me and then did the same with his next orange. If you come to Guinea and thats how they eat them, remember it was me who did it first ; ) Another passenger gave me manioc, a lady had a bunch of it drying on the side of the road, we were stretching our legs after another break down. He said "this is africa"; tasted a bit like starchy chalk but not too bad. When we broke down there was a young boy helper who would suck the petrol to get it to flow through. I dread to think how much he swallows in a day but his mouth was often covered in it. Really shocking to see.

Four hours later, still 40km out and the sun setting, I'd had enough. Besides which I did not want to drive on these roads at night, or arrive in a strange town that has no electricity after dark. Asked them to take my bag down as I was going to camp in the bush, which is what I'd rather do anyway. Ironic that I had prepared for this on the hard road but it was on the easy road it proved necessary. Welcome to Africa! Uproar from the mini-bus passengers who did not approved but I convinced them it was ok. The first place I found had funny noises coming from under the leaves so I scarpered quick and found a small clearing on a path near to the road. My tent is tiny and with the green fly up practically unnoticeably unless you trip over it. Managed to sort everything before dark and sensibly had brought a candle and mosquito coils, so I had those going as I prepared a laughing cow cheese, onion and cucumber sandwich for dinner with shortbread buscuits (from S-L) for desert.

I think Guinea is the friendliest place I've been in the world so I was not worried about being alone in the forest. However I didn't want to be discovered and though most are wary of approaching strangers in the dark, when I heard a motorbike stopping near me I quickly blew out my candle. It appears I had camped near a night wood chopping spot, ilegal or not I don't know, but I decided to keep the light out and just watched the stars a little before sleeping.

A lie-in had me up at 6.45am and I broke camp at 8am. The first 10 or so bush taxis and mini-buses wouldn't stop and I was hoping when I reached the next village they would when I came across a small car at the top of the hill. A Total petrol station worker, he offered me a lift which I gratefully accepted. His fiancee was at uni in KanKan and he showed me a picture of her. Pure luxury to be in such a comfortable and quick car. We arove at the bus station just in time for me to take the last place in a mini-bus to Kan Kan. This mini-bus was in slightly better condition and we only broke down twice although dust would rage around through holes in the floor. A lunch stop gave me a filling plastic plate worth of rice and meat which was a welcome change after laughing cow sandwiches. The journey took all day and at 5pm I again told them to stop and to take my bag down. I couldn't remember the word for stop in French so became all flustered which caused some confusion. I wanted to walk an hour before setting up camp and my only worry was a lack of water when we passed a village with a pumped well. I didn't want to miss it! 17km to Kan Kan which was perfect. One hours walk today and two tommorrow morning. Cool to walk at these times and pretty with scattered villages, bush and little traffic as the road is not good.

I set my camp up a hill and watched the sunset. After dark I was surprised to see bright lights on the horizon. Guinea, like S-L has no or little electricity. It was a bush fire. They are burning the long dry grass by the roads in preparation for dry season. Slightly taken-aback I figured it was unlikely to reach me becuase of distance (unless there was one the other side of the hill that I couldn't see) and that I was surrounded by many trees and a logged area it would be hard for the fire to keep its impetous. Although there was always aphyxiation to look forward to. Figured if all the bugs went silent and birds flew over, I'd make a run for it. Not sure in what direction though.

The walk to town was lovely and the road dotted with ladies carrying wares on their heads and men urging along donkeys and carts loaded with wood. I found another water pump in a plantation. It had a german label so figured it must be good. NGO's and their watyer pumps make such a huge difference to accessible and clean drinking water, for villagers and for me.

In Kan Kan, I stayed at the Catholic mission who have a variety of good, clean and fairly priced guesthouses around West Africa. I chilled out, walked a little around town and then out to a hill over the river for a stunning view over the area. All the villagers, especially the children would say hi and some would shake my hand and laugh proudly to their friends. Hardly anyone asked for money which indicates no tourists ever come here. Very pleasant. The villages tend to be round mud brick buildings with grass roofs.

I walked back on the ornate and surprisingly sturdy, presumably French built bridge, over the river as the sun set dark orange in the smog that had suddenly covered the sky, maybe from fires at the mud brick "factories" along the riverside. On the opposite river bank a line of 4 cars stood on a gravel flat, an inch deep in water, waiting for cleaning. In the river, a man was holding tight to his dug out canoe as he tried to push his way out of the current and reach the calmer side. A flock of white egrets flew overhead and masses of people were making their way home all talking excitedly about the days events. Africa like this I love, except for the pollution. As fast as I could I made my way to the closing market to pick up food supplies (bread, bananas, cooked meat skewers) for dinner and for tomorrow. People were burning rubbish in the gutters and the smoke was intolerable. I wanted to get to the breathable air of my sheltered room as quickly as possible.

The Taxi man told me 6am to leave for Bamako, Mali but the doors to the guesthouse didn't open until 6.30am which I was quite glad about, I'd had enough of really early starts! It took a few hours before we were on our way in a Puegot 504 carrying 9 passengers, 1 kid and the driver. I can still remember my first squashed shared taxi in Cambodia and that seems like forever ago. I was squeezeed between a well dressed Nigerian man and a Malian lady who's child needed constant breast feeding. One of my mopre comfortable trips. We only broke down once when the tyre punctured and the driver took it off only to disappear on another car to reach a village where it could be fixed. The boarder crossing was ok although there was some confusion when an official wanted to see my yellow fever card. I didn't understand, he demanded 25,000GF which I didn't have. I refused. He took my passport which I snatched back in a near assulting police office manouvre. Not good. His superior had a go at me and then let me go. I've noticed at some crossings, if a white is with local Africans they've stopped asking for money. Maybe because they know the white will say no and they don't want the locals to start doing the same. The rest of my car had to pay a little something at the Guinean boarder.

At the Malian boarder there was a big discussion because I didn't have my visa or enough money to buy a visa as my US$20 (with small head) was not acceptable. They eventually agreed to stamp me in and told me to go to immigration in Bamako to buy my visa. So I am now in the odd predicament of having to buy a visa so I may leave a country. if I was going overland I'd be tempted not to bother but flying out, immigration is bound to flip if I am visa less. There was a Guinean sister and brother in my car who now live in Paris and as we waited for all the formalities to be completed, they treated the whole car to a small bottle of pop each and freshly cooked beef.

The drive into Bamako is quite pretty following a rocky escarpment although it felt very dry and dusty after the cool and often wet climate in Guinea and S-L. It's the red dust that colours everything... The journey ended at a bus park just out of town where the Nigerian and I shared a taxi into town. We'd barely gone 1km before it drove into the back of a mini-bus. Totally his fault, he good naturedly got out, had a go at the other driver and then arranged us another taxi. Finally I made it to the Catholic Mission to be greeted by a very friendly nun. After a welcome shower I treated myself to a 2 course dinner at a street stall around the corner. Fresh salad (so rare you would not believe!), potatoes, cous cous and fish. Excellant. On my way there I was nearly knocked out by a flying football as they had a match going in a small square/on the surrounding roads. I could feel it whizz past. This was obviously very amusing to the watchers. Made a note not to pass there at that time of day again!

When I left Freetown I started reading "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn". Often the books I read tend to have mirror or be related to my life at the time and I thought then, so what is this going to mean then? Five days of cross country mayhem and adventure it turns out!

Mali is my last stop in West Africa as my goal was always to reach Timbukto. Everyone has said how beautiful and lovely Mali is so I am really looking forward to my adventures here. More about that later : )

Hope you are all well and happy.
Peace and love
Kathryn xx