Days 79 to 85 – Week 13 (22nd January 2007 to 28th January 2007)
The end of our third month together has seen us leaving Ghana and starting our journey through Togo. On our way out of Accra we stayed at La Pleasure Beach Resort, a strange place where the local boys had no qualms about beating the crap out of each other with wooden mallets, and there were unwelcome floaties in the water (unfortunately not our 1st experience of this ugly side of beach culture out here). We drove the next day up to the Volta River region where we camped at a beautiful spot right on the water by Lake Akosombo. The rope swing into the fresh clean water provided some of us with a few hours of good fun, and for the others watching with fear and concern. Mainly for Terry who would swing wildly out, often falling into the rocky bit or crashing back into the tree which housed the rope. And a bit for Han who squeezed his eyes so tightly shut (in anticipation / excitement) he never knew when to let go of the rope. No real casualties were sustained – just a few very strong water slaps that resulted in reddened torsos or bruised ego's.
From the Volta River we drove to the Togo border, where after about five hours and one really terrifying toilet adventure for Frankie, we said goodbye to Ghana and English, and took a deep breath in at the thought of trying to remember French again. Ghana had been this magical place where we could actually communicate a lot better with the taxi drivers, people at the bank, ladies in the market, things we take for granted at home.
Our first campsite in Togo was on the beach just outside of Lome, the capital city. The ocean was a little rough at Coco Beach, but that didn't stop the die hard swimmers, although Rob may have cracked a rib thanks to the powerful waves. The initial plan was to spend a day here, see the Fetish Market and explore the city. The Fetish Market is supposedly the biggest in West Africa, and if you can handle the smell of rotting monkey heads and hawks it is a really interesting place.
Our one day in the city turned into two when some of the group started to wilt in the damp, wet muggy heat. We thought that it was just the change in temperature getting to everyone, until much to our disbelief all three people who got a malaria test came back positive, both Brendan and Jeff our crew, as well as Josh. Unable to accept the results of this test we sought out a new hospital where four of us got tested, two for the second time. This time Jeff's results were negative but the rest of us were positive. Needless to say this left us all a little confused as Frankie and I felt okay but Jeff was feeling ill. Josh and Brendan both started on the malaria treatment as they had the obvious symptoms of fever, chills, nausea and diarrhoea. The rest of us decided to wait and see, and so far are all still feeling fine. It did make us wonder though what the test results would look like if the whole truck got tested. The 26th was also Australia Day, but had to be postponed to next month due to Malaria. And if the malaria wasn't enough Terry has started loosing teeth (nothing to do with the rope swing, but maybe from all the fluorescent (almost radioactive) boiled sweets he had been purchasing along the way). The huge gaping hole where one of his front teeth should be is particularly nice – along with the beard and grey fro he is now donning – our young and spritely 60 something Tezza has now aged 10 years right before our eyes !!!! But we are still laughing with him all the while – and so is he which is the main thing.
After our extended stay in Lome we left for mountain area of Kpalime / Klouto where the non-sick people had the option of going for a three hour hike through the mountains to some waterfalls. Continuing on – we camped on Lake Togo on our way out of the country into Benin. We have celebrated another two birthdays in the past few days (Jeff and Rob) – a great excuse for the group to get their teeth stuck into some sweet chocolaty treats that had been stashed away from prying eyes and tempting tummies. Birthday cakes don't come easy out here – a melange of sweets, biscuits, and small cakes are usually formed into a centre piece with a solitary candle atop of the pile.
For all the concerned mothers who may be reading this, we are all surviving quite well, malaria outbreak and all, and we do still have one nurse standing (who is not paid nearly enough). But today it is hard to worry too much as I lay on a mat in the sand looking out at the lake and the palm trees. A few of us made what at home would be a really quick meal of instant noodles, but out here takes about 30 minutes from when you light the fire, get the kettle boiling, and finally get the noodles ready. Life moves a little slower when you're living off the back of a big yellow truck in Africa, but I think that is what most of us love about it.
Days 86 to 92 – Week 14 (Jan 29 – Feb 5th)
It's three calendar months to the day since we left England, and we are now in Nigeria, our 8th African country. We touched on 4 in January alone (Mali, Burkina Faso, Ghana and Togo). We've covered about 14,000 kms, and have only lost one of our original number. Time flies by at an ever quickening rate, as the trip gets more fascinating by the day!
There was a slight shuffle around of cook groups, and one unintended consequence is that Maria has now seen a whole new side of Terry! Offering to wake up Tezza in readiness for cookgroup one morning – he was still gloriously dreaming away the fluffy clouds and sheep – all the while in a very naked state !!!! Maria will not live this down in a quick hurry. Terry, himself, has continued to acquire West African masks at a prodigious rate, and will soon be able to have one per truck member. It can't be long before "Club a la Plage" is relaunched with a grand masked ball – it could become a regular fixture on the social calendar. Highlight of the week was when the ever so sweet Holly announced to the truck that Prue needed a screw!! Shrieks of laughter ensued: she was of course referring to what was needed to fix a pair of broken sunglasses. Yup, we've sunk that low!
From Togo we paid a lightening visit to another of West Africa's tiny states, Benin – but packed in a great deal to a welcoming and fascinating little place. Our visas only allowed us 48 hours entry there, but we saw Ganvie, "The Venice of Africa". A fabulous town built on stilts on water 250 years ago, as a form of protection against invaders. 20,000 people live by fishing there today, each with a sectioned off part of water as their own, and travel everywhere by boat or pirogue. Kids as young as 5 or 6 handle them with great dexterity – with a bit of encouragement and support they could be Olympic rowing champions of the future!
We also saw a couple of World Heritage sites in Benin: – a former slave fort and the site of some of the palaces of the kings of the Abomey people. Unfortunately they were not very visitor friendly places, but we were able to see the throne of one of the kings, which was supported by the human skulls of some of those he conquered! (We have now visited at least a dozen World Heritage sites on this trip. The concept is great – celebrate and preserve the very best and most memorable of world history and culture. But their selection is strange, why not Ganvie, for example, and why St Louis train station in Senegal – marginally less interesting than a suburban station in Britain? UNESCO sponsor the World Heritage scheme and get their logo on the billboard outside each site, but appear to do little else afterwards. Nobody expects the sites to be conserved and marketed like western museums, but some support from UNESCO in terms or conservation and curation would help. It can't be beyond their wit to offer some assistance, or encouragement and support in these skills from western institutions who could twin, exchange and help preserve the sites. We are, after all, talking about World heritage. C'mon Overseas Development Department and English Heritage – apply a bit of pressure to the UNESCO bureaucrats!
Enough of the rant. We camped in a couple of rather special places in our brief visit to Benin: one a very pleasant beach resort next to the point at which many slaves saw their last sight of Africa as they walked along what is now known as the Route de Esclaves – Route of the Slaves, before crossing to the Americas. The other was against the wall of the palace of the blood thirsty king referred to above. We shared our evening meal with the palace's security guards, by way of thanks!
Next, Nigeria. We were all dreading this. Even its best friends don't have too much good to say about Africa's most populous state (130m people). Jeffers and Brenda, picking up people's concerns and needing to conserve some time (for possible delays crossing into Cameroon on some of the worst roads we will experience on the trip – especially if the weather once again opens up it waterworks – due very soon) have taken us thru the country at a rate of knots. We are currently staying in the second best thing about the country, a city called Calabar, and in a couple of days will be seeing the best thing: the border crossing to Cameroon. Unfortunately Nigeria does not have the best of reputations – rightly so due to the many off limits areas of the country – mainly the old capital of Lagos and the neighbouring Delta regions. This is the intro of Nigeria awaiting a traveller in one of the guide books we frequent on board : See Rough Guide
Among the Nigerian delights experienced, which I never wish to see again are: a man lying dead at the side of the road, being left to rot – someone had been thoughtful enough to have removed his trousers, presumably for their own use; a police corporal on the look out for a bribe entering the back of the truck with machine gun dangling at his side talking pretty threateningly to a couple of us – bringing a whole new meaning to the concept of to being welcomed with open arms; an attempted hi-jack/extortion road racket to blag $100 from us (some of the other trucks on the road got nabbed and others were on their way after a couple of hours of sitting in the middle of traffic), in broad daylight in the country's second city by supposed revenue collectors; and the smell of burning – whether from slash and burn farming methods in the countryside or of the stench of smouldering putrid waste in towns, as the only apparent method of rubbish disposal.
The great redeeming feature of Nigeria is, however, the kids. Here, as everywhere else we have visited, they spontaneously flock in their droves in towns, villages and on roadsides to wave and cheer and welcome us, always with the gratifying smile of friendship. If nothing else, those faces will be the prevailing memory for all of us of this trip of a lifetime. Africa is a special place, because of these very special young people.
In Calabar – we secured our visas for Cameroon without any problems and prepared for the ever encroaching rains – clouds and noiseless thunder warning us of pending weather changes. On our way in and out of Calabar we met up with all the other overland trucks on the road and swapped advice on different routes we had all taken through Nigeria.
)
)
)
)