Hey folks - well, I survived the first round of the Nigerian general election and escaped over the border to Cameroon in time for the second vote, which is today. The bad news is that the Angolan embassy wouldn't give me a visa - some new rule, which I'm sure they made up on the spot! Instead, I was told to apply in Congo. Lucky white heather.
My ride South from Abuja was mildly interrupted by the aftermath of a riot in Lafia, with the streets still strewn with burning tyres and loads of unhappy looking people standing about. I picked up a couple of slow punctures in my front tyre from the debris, but didn't hang around to change the tube!
The next day, I was waved down by a plain clothes 'Security Officer' with no ID who demanded to see 'all my valid papers'. Needless to say I rode off at speed but was surprised and alarmed to find him following me in his car. The only course of action was to race to the nearest police checkpoint and dob him in, but amazingly he'd had the same idea and, between us, we nearly ran the duty officer over. Luckily, none of the police knew the 'Security Officer' and were, I think a little sceptical of his authenticity, so 1-0 to me. However, my adversary got a late equaliser when I introduced myself as 'Andy' and handed the police my passport, which says 'Andrew'. Apparently it's a Federal offence in Nigeria to give a false name to a police officer. I think I must have turned quite pale when they told me this, as they then just laughed and waved me on. The rest of the ride to Calabar was scenic and mercifully uneventful as my nerves were a bit shot by then!! To be fair though, everyone else I met in Nigeria has been pretty sound.
After enduring a day of beaurocracy getting my Cameroon visa, I headed for the border on the 'less used' Ekang route. Man, it was beautiful - rolling rainforest all the way. Sadly, the road got a bit erm, rutted toward the frontier - see bottom pic. The border crossing, which consisted of two houses divided by a rickety bridge with 2 gates on it was a scoosh and I rode off into the jungle on a narrow dirt road in a cloud of butterflies - cool.
My ride South from Abuja was mildly interrupted by the aftermath of a riot in Lafia, with the streets still strewn with burning tyres and loads of unhappy looking people standing about. I picked up a couple of slow punctures in my front tyre from the debris, but didn't hang around to change the tube!
The next day, I was waved down by a plain clothes 'Security Officer' with no ID who demanded to see 'all my valid papers'. Needless to say I rode off at speed but was surprised and alarmed to find him following me in his car. The only course of action was to race to the nearest police checkpoint and dob him in, but amazingly he'd had the same idea and, between us, we nearly ran the duty officer over. Luckily, none of the police knew the 'Security Officer' and were, I think a little sceptical of his authenticity, so 1-0 to me. However, my adversary got a late equaliser when I introduced myself as 'Andy' and handed the police my passport, which says 'Andrew'. Apparently it's a Federal offence in Nigeria to give a false name to a police officer. I think I must have turned quite pale when they told me this, as they then just laughed and waved me on. The rest of the ride to Calabar was scenic and mercifully uneventful as my nerves were a bit shot by then!! To be fair though, everyone else I met in Nigeria has been pretty sound.
After enduring a day of beaurocracy getting my Cameroon visa, I headed for the border on the 'less used' Ekang route. Man, it was beautiful - rolling rainforest all the way. Sadly, the road got a bit erm, rutted toward the frontier - see bottom pic. The border crossing, which consisted of two houses divided by a rickety bridge with 2 gates on it was a scoosh and I rode off into the jungle on a narrow dirt road in a cloud of butterflies - cool.
The scenery in Western Cameroon was even better, with tea plantations, rainforests and teeny villages all at 1500m-plus above sea level. Cor blimey - awesome. I've put up a pic, but it doesn't do it justice. The only downside seems to be some of the local food, as Bushmeat rules in Cameroon. So, far I've resisted the temptation, but my resolve is weakening. 'Mine's a tortoise and frites, hold the shell...'
Today, we've reached the coastal village of Kribi. There is apparently a nice waterfall that flows into the sea nearby, so I'm off to get my Timotei in a minute. The coming week is set to be a visa-fest in Yaounde as I need to get visas for Gabon, Congo and DRC there. Then it's South baby - hopefully!
Thanks as ever for the comments :-)
8 comments:
Hey Andy
Got your text and promptly deleted it without recording your number - been on the Dickens! Apologies.
Text again when you get a chance and I'll update you on the news.
Nort Horse - your turn to Haiku I think!
You must be happy to have Nigeria behind you, judging by the BBC reporting of the election!
DM is marking out your progress on his 1000 miles to the inch map. You have covered at least 3 inches!
Cameroon looks fanatastic!
I make it about 9 inches - DM
9 inches. 3 inches. Project Management overestimating effort. That's not something you see everyday.
If you do get a taste for tortoise and frites there's a couple in the garden at Robertson!!!!!!!!!!
The pic of the road doesn't look much worse than the A697 going into Wooler.
Hang loose and ride tight!
North Horse,
I am trying to get hold of you, I want to throw some work your way. Your old mobile number has been reassigned to an anonymous person in your old company. If you don't have my contact details perhaps some of our carousel buddies can help out.
OK Alien Fauna, I accept your challenge
Effort expended
Leads to melancholy angst:
Best do nothing.
Lauren has the three tortoises on a vigorous training schedule to ensure a victorious escape in case you get the urge to have the Cameroonian version of a Sunday roast dinner. The baby tortoise, all 2 and a half inches of him, ain’t called Speedy for nothing…
xxx
D-C
Post a Comment