Lunch…or fetish Given recent visa woes I feel in need of additional support and head for Lome’s fetish market. A patch of sandy ground bleaching under direct sun holding a dozen or so rickety stalls bearing all manner of dried animal bits. There are parts from all sorts of probably endangered animals… Continue reading
The road to Accra is as good as any I have travelled on. We kept bumping into the coast as we followed the road East, passing old haunts like Apam and dreamed of destinations like Elmina and Winneba. It takes 45 minutes in heavy slow moving traffic to get to… Continue reading
Despite the skyline there’s little to do in Abidjan, and I’m glad to be able to move on. After two and a half months of travel, the last week was a designated rest week, for recuperation and birthday celebrations. From Abidjan I made the relatively short hop by minibus back… Continue reading
There were no vehicles heading to Zwedru, the only road to Harper by 8.30 (that’s very late!) so I organise a mototaxi for the journey. I later find out its 200km! Although I slept well, I am grouchy by the time the driver gets his act together and we leave… Continue reading
I take a quick romp around Robertsport Fante town that night. The former airport now has buildings on the runway while the windsock still dances. Some of the fishing boats here are huge, the keel dug from a single tree. Out of the water they were taller than me and… Continue reading
I can’t help thinking some simple timetabling should be put in place. We don’t leave Bo’s main lorry park until 12.30, I arrived at 8.30. The road as far as Bandajuma surprises me in being good level (boring) grey tarmac. Even when it becomes earth it is mostly drivable at… Continue reading
The town of Kent, almost directly south of Freetown by a bit may have budget busting accommodation, but it also has perhaps the most beautiful beach I’ve seen – ever. Devoid of rubbish, empty of people, yellow-orange sand and views of the hills that greet the sea. That night I… Continue reading
I don’t know when Guinean formalities end, and Sierra Leone begins, there is no flag or sign. As I’m finding routinely, I am dealt with kindly and quickly, if only I didn’t have to keep getting off my mototaxi to the town of Kambia every few minutes for a different… Continue reading
I was less saw the next morning, and by evening I’m back to my usual self. There’s a sudden flurry of activity as everyone tried to get under cover before the next storm hits, which is longer than tonight’s electricity holds out for. Then, with a deep rumble of thunder… Continue reading
So here’s the tale of a day which I won’t forget, and don’t want to remember, though words can’t convey the true exasperation… It begins normally, travelling by transporte misto (minibus/converted van) with ‘USA vegetable oil vitamin A fortified’ tins used as additional central seating with a young guy who… Continue reading
