The road to Cameroun

We spend a week here for free!

After spending 3 weeks in Abuja, and  being looked after by Stefan and Dagmar (thanks again for everything, guys) the frame of Anita's car was welded realy proffesionally (here we have to thank Udo Strack, we owe you big time)

So now we could leave for the border of Cameroun, before our extended visa's ran out. That evening we found a nice place on the riverbank near Katsina, but the locals came and insisted we saw the village chief. That ment we had to pack up everything again, and reluctantly we followed them to the village on the main road. After getting the permission it was almost dark so we setteled for an improvised camp under the bridge where we were witness to a spectacular lightshow announcing the start of the rainy season.

 
 Next day we drove up to the border, first on perfect tarmac to Takum, then on potholled roads to Bissaula. Nigeria had been crossed without problems, except for  a few rather aggressive immigration officers holding us up for an hour or two, and the people were friendly, athough not all of them appreciated having their picture taken, or as they call it here 'make a snap'. Many times we heared them say 'did you snap me?' .

So that was Nigeria, but we sure expected to get to Cameroun a little easier. Our logic on where to cross into Cameroun was a bit faulty, which had us end up on the worst road between the 2 countries.

 We didn't want to take the infamous Ekok-Mamfe stretch (just type it in YouTube) although we were informed that it is easily passable now and soon the Chinese will finish it. We also had information on the moutain road via Gida, Beli, Mayo to Gemou which was good but ment a 200 km detour. So when we arrived in Takum, and the locals assured us the road was good (why do we every time believe that) to Bissaula and the border.

 Actualy the locals were right, up to border the road was nice, with a few water crossings and beautifull lush rain forest. It was the next day, just after we were stamped out of Nigeria, and still in no mans land, things got hairy. After a watercrossing and a steep rocky hill, that already had my heartrate up and had me sweating profusely, I decided to put all my luggage in the car. A little further came the real test, even without the heavy luggage I only made it halfway up the nasty steep and very bumpy hill. When a big rock slowed me down, I had to put the bike down, luckily just hurting my finger, but by then I was exhausted, and close to heat shock. It took me some time to catch my breath, all the time being harassed by the tiny flies (witch had the habbit to crawl only into my ears, the others had no problem).

The hill that beat me. Trust me, it is steeper than it looks here.

 When I tried to attack the same stretch, it went all wrong at the same place, the bike went to the ground, sending me flying down the hill. There Regis was in the right place to catch me in full flight, and we almost went down toghether, but we mannaged to stay on our feet, lucky escape. We then decided to get the cars up first, especially Regis' car, which had a winch, that could winch us up in the worst case scenario. With fear and amazement I watched the cars crawl up the hill, the diff lock on and the 4 wheels strugling to find grip on the loose rocks, all of them only just missing the stranded bike while rocks shot from under the wheels. When we had a break halfway up, eating some pineapple, three guys arrived on a moped (a moped in Africa carries 3 or more, yes) and they convinced us we had to get the bike up as soon as possible, because by now it had started raining, and the piste would get slicker by the minute. With combined effort, it took 6 guys and a towing rope, we pulled the bike up 30 meters. The last part up was just as difficult, but miraculously I stayed on the bike and 20 minutes later all the cars and the bike were on top.

Santa and his helpers

Sliding down

 A quick snap with our rescuers and then on to the descend, as daylight was fading and the skies looked menacing. This also soon turned out to be tricky, just as steep and more slippery as the other side, my two wheels where going in different  directions and as I picked up more speed I came close to having a crash several times. The others seemed to enjoy all of this, but I'm no thrillseeker, no adrenaline junky, I find it hard to enjoy myself when I fear for my life, and this was certainly the scariest thing I ever did! So after the cars slid down, some sliding into big rocks or ditches, we made it to a flat piece of road just before dark and spent the night right there, on the 'road'.

Next day rewarded us with an easy connection onto a good piste where we picked up some workers and gave them a lift to the border town police office of Ako. Some of us then  got into Cameroun without a valid visa, because the officer didn't bother to look at any of the visas and as the customs where not in the village, we also didn't bother with a 'laisser passez'. If it wasn't for the gnarly road, I would even recommend this border, realy easy.

Cameroun was all I hoped for, nicer and more developped than Nigeria, very friendly people and stunning landscapes. It was no coincidence then that our bushcamp that evening was the most special so far, under some eucaliptus trees, right next to a spiky hill, overlooking the whole valley.

The 'Fon' of Kungi

An 'actor' from the movie

 The villagers soon informed the chief that some strange people had landed, and a couple of hours later the 'Fon of Kungi' himself was standing on the hill. We promised to come to the palace the next day, where a whole ceremony with some fermented drink and cola nuts followed and it was made clear that a donation was expected. Kungi was such a nice place, and soon it was decided we would stay for a few days. Regis especially liked it as he got to play a role in a movie some guys where filming and even we were filmed having breakfast at our camp place. The next morning we saw the 'gorilla' the people said lived on the mountain. It turned out to be a baboon, but it made the whole experience even more special nevertheless. This place was just magic.

Video report

Clips of video from Ghana, Togo, Benin and Nigeria.

Clip of a day out on the KTM 450 of Stefan

Lovely Nigeria

As it turned out, the border at Chikanda, from Niki was indeed very easy, with Thomas and Anita getting a free 'laissez passez' and the officials on the Togo side not seeing that I passed through Togo without one or any Togo visa whatsoever.

 We used our visa cards in the first bank and were surprised the Naira's just flowed out like that, in Parakou,Togo the 4 ATM's refused my visa and mastercard just the day before. The road however turned into a difficult piste just 20 km into Nigeria continuing for about a hundred km, which was very tiring. Apart from a few aggressive immigration officials, we found the Nigerians to be very welcoming and friendly.

Anita, Thomas and Regis

 It also seems a lot cheaper here, eating streetfood at half a euro or less, drinking a cold coke for the same price and even having a litre of fuel for that same 0,5 euro. Diesel unfortenately is twice the price and pretty hard to find too, our convoy needs to drive into about 10 fuel stations to find one with diesel. Because of the badly potholed roads it took us 4 days to reach Abuja, bushcamping every night, preparing our own food while fending off the irritating small flies, that had the habbit to go inside your ears. Once we got to the busy cities of Mokwa and Bida we also experienced the famous Nigerian driving style, on one car I read 'My security is God', another read 'Take care, God is on my side', which sums it up nicely.
 In Bida, we noticed Anita's car was a bit low on the rear and found a big piece of the frame was broken on both sides. In only 2 hours they managed to weld it (very badly), and we were on our way again before noon.

 As it was saturday we decided to bushcamp once more and drive into Abuja early sunday, to find the person which Thomas was in contact with, and who had a 'nice big place where we all could camp'.

Sterilizing water as Regis makes dinner

 The contact proved to be Stefan, a german, who works for a big company here and lives in Abuja with his wife Dagmar and 2 kids. As overlanders and bikers themself, they knew exactly what we needed after 4 days in the bush. I'll just list what these hospitable people offered to us , campsite with swimming pool, internet, free beer, complete kitchen to use, workshop for the car from the company and they will wash our clothes and help with the visa. Never in my life I was welcomed so overwhelming, from our bushcamp in the morning, it was like returning to all the comforts of europe. So, now we will use our time in Abuja to get the visa and plan our route to Cameroun. While we are at it, we may also try for the elusive Angola visa, but our chances are slim. And oh, the welding on Anita's car is allready starting to crack and another piece of the exhaust broke off, seems like her car is in permanent repair, but then again, it is as old as she is.

Togo & Benin

Our last days in Ghana were spent with my motorbike friends in Roots Yard near the border of Togo in the mountainous region of Ho. The day before, Heidi en Jens (Enfield diesels), Tony & Charlie, Max & Marjane and Hubert (Ural sidecar) put their bikes in Tema into a container to be shipped to Walvisbaai, Namibia.

 As a result they where now bikeless and took a tro-tro (minibus) to Roots Yard to meet up with us and Matt, who we met in Bamako and who was celebrating his 30th birhtday. Before me and Anita were leaving for Togo, we decided to visit a waterfall. As we decended without guide ( I took a sneaky picture of the guide's map) and only 15 minutes into the walk, the path narrowed and wasn't clear annymore leading into the cascades. I told Anita to wait, while I took a look at where to go, but although standing on dry rock with my climbing boots, I slipped and fell. I recovered, only to slip again, and again, and again, now on the slippery green wet rocks sliding deeper into the cascades on my belly to arrive in the waterpool at the end with a splash. Luckily I didn't hurt myself too bad and with wet sigarettes and money (camera is waterproof, yes!) we arrived at the waterfall a bit later with the rest of the group.

Slid some 20 meters before ending here!

This wasn't the only mishapp of the day, Anita spotted a cashew tree full of fruits, with the cashew nut in a protective shell under the fruit.

The fruit was edible, she knew, but when she tried to get to the cashew nut by biting the shell, a strong acid burnt her tongue and lip.  As we went back to Roots Yard, a real tropical thunderstorm forced the group of 7 into Anita's car for the ride back.

Matt, Tony, Parisa & Bahar

Next morning we left our friends to take on the rest of Africa. First was Togo, we crossed the easy border and after taking refuge for a 2 hour downpoor which left the car and my bike luggage wet, we arrived in the dark at the Benedict monestary of Dzobegan.

Just as we were in the shower, the bell for diner went, exactly 7u25, everybody was expected in the dining hall. While we were still eating, a servant took the rest of the food that was still on the table and served desert. It was clear that we needed to eat faster and as soon the desert was finished we were summoned to help with the dishes. In the morning we attended the morning mass, after which I left Anita to take on the rough mountain track towards Atakpamé, all in all a fantastic experience.

By now, I noticed the rear tourance tire, that was still on since I left home more than 3 months and 12000 km ago, had a strange bulge on the side, so it was quickly changed for one of the spare tires that I now keep on the roof of the landy (handy, having a girl with a landy). Togo is just a small country and so the border of Benin was soon reached using a bumpy track that at one place was  blocked by a broken down truck, I squeased through while Anita took a detour through the village.

In Benin we made our way to Savé that night to meet up with Thomas, a 21 year old Swiss mechanic, traveling in a 4x4 mercedes van and on his way to Tanzania to work as a 'bush mechanic'. We met with Thomas in Bamako where he already had to work on Anita's clutch.

Drawing a crowd as we come into Benin

 As we arrived at Savé, and got Thomas on the phone, we saw another overlander in a Toyota landcruiser. Regis, a French national, stepped out and asked: 'are you also looking for Thomas?'

The organised chaos in Anita's car

So now we were 4, and after making  bushcamp, we decided to spend one more day in Togo to get to the more safe entry North to Nigeria at Niki .

Driving South

We quickly made our way south towards the Burkina/Ghana border to leave us enough time to deal with the border customs because we knew that without a carnet, Anita would have a hard time getting the car into Ghana. And that was how it turned out, I got through in 10 minutes with my carnet and getting the car sorted took us the remainding 6 hours of the day, driving to Bolga and back to the border, with some customs officials in the car. She ended up paying 50 euro for an insurance on a bond, basicly the same system as the carnet, but locally. Also they took the official car papers, and sent them to the border where we were exiting the country.

Anita forcing a truck off the road

Then it was on to the main goal in Ghana, the beautifull coast, and although Anita was a bit sick, and me having problems with the extreme heat of North Ghana, we made it down in 2 days. On one realy bad road I got stopped by one of the many police checkpoints, and upon being asked 'how the road was', I replied that it was realy bad. The officer threatened to arrest me if I didn't take it back, he said it was a perfectly fine road and remembering my previous arrests, I quickly and  fully aggreed.
When arriving at 'the green turtle' it turned out exactly as all the guide books described it, a picture perfect beach heaven.

 The temperature was a bit lower here and stayed the same day or night, which made for a realy relaxing 4 day camping experience, diving into the huge waves, having long morning walks or just having a cold beer while reading a book, it was a holiday into a holiday.

 We also met up with Charlie and Tony again, who just happened to be here too, and had a discussion about the shipping of the bikes from Accra to Namibia.

As I'm typing this from Cape Coast, we are by now pretty sure we are going to drive, rather than ship, but as the rainy season is already starting and some visa's are next to unobtainable, it will be a tough challenge, but then again, nothing is easy here in Africa. Nobody I know even attempted it in the rainy season, but I'm sure it has been done before. Are we being naive, ignorent or stupid, time will probably tell.

Lost and found

"Here I am, sitting in a police office again"

That's what I thought when I went into the big police building here in Ouaga. The story started like this, last sunday Anita and me split up in Segou, Mali. She was driving with 2 other overlanders towards the Dogon country, as it is so beautifull she couldn't miss it, and I would go to Ouaga, Burkina, to get my visa for Ghana and do some work on the bike. Nothing set in concrete, just 'we'll meet up in a few days to a week, I'll call you'.
But already the first night in Bobo, Burkina, I couldn't call her with my Malian number and also with a new Burkinabe number I had no luck in contacting her. The following days I sent her some e-mails, but I was well aware that in Dogon country, there is no internet and in big parts, no telephone reception. So, by thursday, I started to get a little nervous. I had no contact details for Thomas or Matias, with who she was traveling, and I knew the piste from Dogon to the border is hardgoing, because I did that track last year.
So by friday afternoon all sorts of scenarios were playing in my head, especialy since I knew this was the last day her visa for Burkina was valid, she had to cross today. I felt I needed to do something, so there I was, in the central police office, asking them to phone the border post to hear if they saw her pass. After a few phonecalls, they informed me that she had not crossed the border, and they would keep me informed if she turned up.
Back in the auberge, Guillaume, the owner and also a biker, called his contacts in the Dogon, and found out she had been spotted on wednesday, together with the two others, this was a huge relieve, but the big surprise came one hour later, when my phone rang and it was Anita, saying she was at the border and she coudn't realy talk now, but she would be in Ouaga the next day. What had happened: turns out that with the troubles in Mali and with huge numbers of refugees coming into Burkina, there was actually a great amount of police and armed forces around the border, and they went out to search and found Anita camping in the bush near the border. How they found her so quick is a mistery, but I guess it's their job, right. It certainly must have been quiete scary, she on her own, somewhere in the bush, sudenly surrounded by police with machine guns, they took her to a safer place and let her call me on their phone. . Next day she arrived here by noon, telling me another chilling detail: on the way down, she hit a bump in the road too hard, and spun her car 360 degrees around. Too much information for me at that time and I was just very glad she was here safe and with me.

Soon we will travel to Ghana and I will keep her in my sight, something tells me that will be the best for both of us.

Burkina Faso

I got up early to drive to Ouagadougou trying to beat the midday heat.

8 o'clock in the morning

11 o'clock in the morning

Even though it rained for a while, by noon it was brutally hot again, but luckily the toll road from Bobo to Ouaga is in good shape so I arrived safe and well in the capital, where I will spend the rest of the week taking care of the bike and trying to arrange my visa for Ghana and Cameroun.

Fitting the new chain

Things are clear!

Remember I told you all how I believe everything happens for a reason. Well, now everything has become clear. While this thing just kept on going, and the police and procureur just kept me waiting, last week  a girl with a landrover drove into the auberge, and immediately I was lost. One week later, me and Anita are a couple and she has realy got me through this ordeal.She is traveling to Namibia and as this is where I'm going we will take on this adventure together.
 This morning, it was my last chance to get the bike back before she had to leave, and after waiting for 2 hours at the 'tribunal' the miracle happened. They said I would get my bike, camera and gps back.

Now I'm sitting in the auberge and still it hasn't sunk in, I'm free. In one hour I will pack my stuff and leave the place where I stayed for 5 weeks and then we're off to the Segou festival and monday towards Burkina. Bye bye Mali.

Thanks for all the support! Next blog from Burkina! 

Update: Just arrived in Bobo-Dioulasso,Burkina Faso, tomorrow I will be in Ouagadougou to arrrange some visa, work on the bike and wait for Anita, Thomas (Swiss in a 4x4 van) and Matias/Matea (Slovenian in a van) to arrive. I'm just very glad to be out of Mali, and in the next weeks will travel downwards towards Nigeria and Cameroun.

Arrested

After my friends left the auberge for another bush excursion to a waterfall near Sikasso, I thought it was time to make that instructional video of 'how to pack the bike for overland travel' that I was planning for a long time. For that I needed a peacefull and quite place outdoors preferably without people staring at me. This prooved very hard to find in a capital of millions, and the day before I didn't find such a place around the auberge at the riverbank, there's always people around, lots of people. So today I drove 15 km out of town towards the airport. It still took me an hour but finally I found a reasonable spot behind some trees in a field. The video only took 15 minutes to make and just when I was packing the big tripod and camera, a complete delegation of military personnel turned up. This is a link to the video:
how to pack your bike
  About 10 people, with different uniformes and even some white people with big camera's. They didn't looked too surprised to see me and the whole group kinda ingnored me, but the big chef 'de la gendarme de l'aeroport' immediately confiscated my passport and camera, telling me I was in a restricted area. He sent an armed guard on the back of my bike to escort me to the gerdarmerie. There followed 4 hours of interrogation, me trying to explain the term 'instructional video' in vain, and then they escorted me to my auberge, as I told them I was sick and needed my medicine. Next day I reported back to the station at 9 am, to be told at 1 pm to come back the next day, my camera was still being examined by the technical labo and my passport still conficated.
Today it took a turn for the worst, after waiting for 8 hours going from one high ranking official to another, they actually locked me up. This was at the ' service investigation judicielle'.
The only reason I was able to type this is because I convinced the doctor I got a medical problem so they had to bring me back to the auberge for my medicine.
I have to present myself tomorrow at 9, hopefully I can contact the Belgian embassy by then.
Update: almost 1 week later and still no real solution, they keep telling me I don't have to worry, because I didn't commit any serious crimes, but even though the consul of the Belgian embassy does a good job, and me turning up every day, things just seem to take forever. For somebody like me, who was impatient all off his life, this is a big lesson and I'm trying to look at it from the positive side as I'm a strong believer that 'everything happens for a reason' in life. Things will become clear very soon.

Update from Bamako

After returning from Bandiagara, camping on the piste near Segou, I discovered the open wound on my foot was infected, and worse, this had triggered an allergic reaction in the skin of my hands and feet, called dyshidrosis. It was like every finger had 20 mosquito bites, and it was very itchy and painfull. The next day I could hardly close my hand and found the rash spread to my arms and feet, so I was of to the hospital. After being treated with anti-biotics, anti histamine and some other stuff things are looking better now, but it will take the rest of the week to fully recover.
In the mean time, I met up with some other Belgians here in Bamako, Max & Marjane, who are driving a KTM motorbike and are on the same route southwards as me. I was in contact with Max for months now and was quite surprised to find hilm here in Bamako, as he left Belgium six months ago. This newly wed couple sure take their time and I will be happy to travel together with them when we meet again in Burkina or Nigeria.

Max & Marjane

My other travel partners, Tony and Charlie, will go their own way in the next few days, driving towards Accra, Ghana with Heidi and Jens on their diesel Enfields, to catch a freightship to Namibia, effectively skipping the most dangerous and hard going part of Africa.