I like the market, and indeed Grand Lahou, better the second day. Some goodwill from passing strangers, and 800 CFA francs in change in my pocket allows me to buy what I want (I had been having small change problems). I even manage to get hold of a Moldovan made… 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
Oddity of oddities former Portuguese colony Guinea-Bissau leans towards French as well as Portuguese and Croele for language, and is a member state of the West African Franc. Bissau city, the capital, is the best I can do coast-wise for a while. I manage to find myself a large ring… Continue reading
Its a quick romp back to the transport hub that to me is Brikama town, to catch a sept-place down to the true border town of Seleni, then a minibus to the village of Kafountine, back on the Atlantic. All by lunchtime. There is a complete absence of tar from… Continue reading
