this took place in 2011.......
Dear readers,

My friends insist I post my travel journals online because they offer some great travel insights. I am not sure if there is any truth to that, but I will leave that to your judgment.

I will try to post the journal entries on this particular adventure and add little commentary in the coming weeks. This may not interest you, but I'm sure it may be of interest to others and also serve as a guide to travelers who may stumble upon it.

The journal entries contain time, dates and details of the time I was writing them. They also contain dialogues I had with some of the people I met, my endless thoughts and the questions I often pose to myself whenever I am faced with any contingency. You should expect more questions and few answers as you read them.

This is the Pilot of the episodes.

I always thought it would be a great adventure to venture into the wilds of West Africa, to explore the deep isolated communities, cultures, people, cities, food, music and country in general. I finally made up my mind November of 2011.

My backpack weighed about five pounds. The contents were: hiking boots, casual clothing, towels, sandals, Survival kit, books, notepads, socks, first aid kit, travel documents and some other miscellaneous.

I didn't put very much plan into this adventure not because I was careless but because I didn't want to. I actually didn't feel like heading out until the morning of 09/11/11. I suddenly became so tired of Accra that I just wanted to go away. Spontaneity; it's my leap in the dark. It reveals my spirit and the ability to survive in my new environment. True adventure comes from spontaneity. What is the point of life if we have to plan everything to the last detail without leaving any room for wonder and curiosity?

It was nothing but curiosity that led me to venture into the remotest parts of West Africa. What is it like out there? How does the food taste? The music? The people?

Journal entry - Start

Date: 09/11/11

Time: 1:35PM

I am currently sitting on a minibus at Kaneshie(suburb of accra) soon to head out to Elubo; the Ghana – Ivory Coast boarder town. The bus is half full.

Time: 2:13PM

I just learned from the driver it's too late I wouldn't be able to make it pass the border today. It is about 280km to the border and it should be closed before we make it to Elubo.

Why are our borders closed early when this is not the practice at other parts of the world? Why should traders and travelers wait all night to access the border?

Reason for travel: Curiosity. Nothing else.

Hopefully I would meet some good natured people and make some good friends. I'm optimistic.

Entry conclusion

How is freedom achieved? Continuous struggle. Is this my struggle for freedom? I was born free. No chains and shackles. I will roam as much as I can, make as many friends as I can and laugh as much as I can.

Journal entry - end

Commentary

The first entry above reveals how unprepared I was. I arrived at the bus station late. I gave less thought to the time I could make it pass the border. My iPod, map and books were my consolation. I could entertain myself with them at anytime and anywhere so it did not concern me very much about the delays at the border.

My plan was to head West towards Ivory Coast and then continue towards the border with Liberia, Sierra Leone, Guinea, Guinea Bissau, Senegal and through to Gambia. I would then try to catch a yacht or any means possible to The Cape Verde Islands in the Atlantic Ocean. I would then return back to the mainland to Senegal and continue east through Kayes to Bamako. I would continue further east to Burkina Faso and then onwards to Niger. I would then come South through Northern Nigeria all the way South and then head out west to Benin, Togo and then finally back home. But this isn't as easy and accessible as I had thought. But as it turned out, this rather gave birth to more fun and adventure as I traveled along.

Journal Entry – Start

Date: 11/11/11

Time: 9:08AM

Currently on a bus in Abidjan, headed out to Bamako, Mali.

11/11/11. Interesting date. I don't know what it means but my guess is that a religious fundamentalist somewhere must be capitalizing on it as an indication of the end of the world. I don't have access to the internet.I will spend the entire day contemplating as to why there's so much poverty in Abidjan despite the often touted economic and social achievements of the city.

Entry conclusion

What lies ahead? Should I be afraid?

If we let things terrify us, life will not be worth living. – Lucius Seneca

Journal entry – end

Commentary

I didn't write any entry the previous day because I was too exhausted and had a lot going on.

I arrived in Abidjan around 11:30AM on 10/11/11 after about three hours of travel in a packed saloon car from the border.

It was a frustrating night at the Elubo border waiting to cross into Ivory Coast the following morning. The sanitation at our side of the border was very bad. The border posts were dirty so was the entire area. Shouldn't border towns be as clean and well kept as the capital? Border towns are your first impression of a country. The sanitation around the area is disgraceful. Hopefully the area has been demarcated and all the structures leveled down as they did in Aflao.

A Ghanaian Gestapo immigration officer prevented me from taking photos of the Tano River as I make my final walk out of Ghana. He was very aggressive and threatened to confiscate my camera if I go ahead. I complied as I didn't want any brouhaha with those guys. I obliged to his orders because I was ignorant of the regulations of the area. He didn't offer any explanation; neither did I bother to seek one. His manners were not welcoming at all. They normally would round up non-Ghanaians and extort money from them. We shouldn't treat other ECOWAS citizens in that manner if we don't expect their side to reciprocate. We must respect and observe the ECOWAS regulations. The harassment by GIS must stop. At least we can lead the way by treating others in a more civilized manner.

I arrived in Elubo around 10:00PM after about six hours on the road. I met three Ivorians on the bus from Kaneshie who were also traveling to Abidjan. Sherif is an interesting fellow in his early thirties, Michelle and Maggie, siblings, attractive, in their mid twenties. They turned out to be very helpful.

Sherif could not understand one word in English, Michelle however is articulate in English so she served as the interpreter. Michelle is of middle height, fair, attractive and blossom. She speaks calmly but with intense expression. She was smart and articulate. We conversed very often whilst en route to Elubo. They were all interested in my adventure, especially Sherif. Sherif became more interested after he learned I have traveled through the Middle East as he has. We were both familiar with some unique landmarks and areas. Our friendship began on the basis of our interests.

We spent the entire night after arriving in Elubo talking about politics and the situation in Ivory Coast, especially the recent electoral violence. We occupied a tea seller's joint that was happy to join our interactions only if we spoke quietly to avoid being heard by any spies or sort in the area. But we are on the Ghana's side of the divide aren't we? Well. One thing was clear – all of them were not in favor of Gbagbo neither were they in support of the French intervention into the crisis. They seem not to understand why the French still plays critical role in their politics and economy. This seems to frustrate both Michelle and Sherif. “Sarkozy is the devil” Michelle retorted in one of her responses. I however continued reminding them that the French intervention was necessary to bring stop to the carnage that was being perpetuated by both factions. Gbagbo was the subject of contention and forcefully removing him was the only option. It was a coordinated international effort. The French forces that engineered the operations are second commanded to the United Nations' UNOCI peacekeeping operation so they could as well voice their disagreement towards the United Nations. Gbagbo lost the elections but refused to relinquish power to the winner so he got what he deserves.

“We have told them to leave Cote Divoire alone and go back to France but they don't want to go. Why eh why? Why Sarkozy why?” Michelle continued to lament as she indicates her frustration of the French presence in Ivory Coast.

They both argued I am a Sarkozy henchman and a Western apologist. This gave way for more discourse as the night grew. Both agreed that they have never met an interesting character like me – out in the unknown just because I am curious and especially for espousing ideals they thought were too Western and Sarkozy-like.

The bus driver we came with offered us to sleep in the bus until the border is opened for passage in the morning. It was a sleepless night for me because the area was too smelly and unhygienic.

Both Sherif and Michelle demanded I stay with one of them whilst in Abidjan to facilitate easy transit to my next destination. They were very kind. I refused but they insisted. You know it is a backpacking rule; to accept accommodation or any form of assistance from whilst on the road, first you must ensure you don't become burden on them. You must be responsible for yourself. They insisted and I had no option but to give it a thought.

“That is their base...hmmm!" Michelle pointed at the French Military Base, situated near the Abidjan airport, as we entered Abidjan.

I continued to resist the offer but they continued to insist. Michelle insisted I stay with her male friends who happens to live in the middle of the city so I can have access to everything I need. Sherif also demanded I come with him to his plushy apartment. I gave it much thought and made a choice. I had wished to go with Sherif but don't forget Sherif cannot understand a word in English, whilst I also cannot express myself in French. Michelle's male friends were fluent in English, however. The drawback with going with Sherif was that, communication would be difficult with him. I was forced to take Michelle's offer. Sherif insisted however he would have to come with me and Michelle's friends to see where they live. He took their phone numbers and called throughout the day to check on me. He was looking out for me. A wonderful fellow! You would be shocked to know that the world is actually filled with people like Sherif and Michelle. Nice people.

The plan was to make preparation to continue west to the Liberia border as soon as I arrive in Abidjan. I realized this was not possible. The war in Ivory Coast has just ended and the rebels that fought for both factions were holed up in that region. Rebellion was still ongoing. In addition to that, there were warning alert for travelers trying to reach Liberia. This was due to the electoral contentions. It was intense in both countries so rebel activities at the border between them were rife. It would be dangerous for me to use that route. This situation was confirmed by Sherif's friend who just returned from Liberia with his Liberian wife through the route. They warned it is dangerous to go that way. Michelle also called with similar information. What do I do then?

That is the fun of adventures. I pulled out my map and started to look out for new route. I decided to skip Liberia for the moment and try to find my way to the country north of Liberia which is Sierra Leone. But how do I do that when I couldn't come through Liberia? I decided to go up north to Mali and then try to find my way to southeastern Guinea and continue to the Sierra Leone border. That would be about 2100km distance to cover. The thought of this new idea started to excite me. There would be a lot to do and see. Northern Ivory Coast? I have read about Korhogo, where Gbagbo was being held. Perhaps I could have a peak into where he's being held. Of course not!

I had wondered if it would be possible to find a bus from Sikasso, the southernmost city of Mali straight heading to Southern Guinea. This was not really possible. I could only find minibus to Conakry in Bamako. I would change bus/bush taxi from Coyah to the Sierra Leone border. So in the end, the only way for me to reach Sierra Leone was to go up North and then come down South on the other side. One of my traveling codes is to always choose the safer route no matter how long it takes.

I reached a new plan so I spent the rest of the day walking about in Abidjan. I visited various areas and landmarks around the city, most notably the Plateau area. Plateau is the reflection of modern Ivory Coast or perhaps the whole of West Africa, I thought. It is filled with skyscrapers and nice streets. I also visited Adjame, one of the slums of Abidjan. I bought my Bamako bus ticket from this area. You could easily see the effects of the violence that shook the country recently. Their Zoomlion was not up and doing. There was littering all over the city. But one thing was very clear about Abidjan; - the infrastructure was superior over that in Accra. I couldn't find any yardstick of measurement. My opinion is that Abidjan is well built and organized than Accra.

Another thing was clear in Abidjan; poverty and unemployment was rife. The Michelle's friends I stayed with were actually University graduates with no job. I really pitied them. They lamented the same frustration Sherif and Michelle did about the Ivorian society and the French dominance in every aspect of it.

It was a wonderful experience walking on the streets of Abidjan and observing hawkers' activities. It can get very busy at some parts and very quiet at another.

If you ever end up in Ivory Coast, don't forget to try the popular local food “Acheke”. It is a soaked 'gari' with hot green pepper and fish. It was very tasty.

I met with Sherif and his returnee friend from Liberia at the Plateau bus station for chat in the evening. His friend is fluent in English so we hanged out for a while and took a walk. I felt so home and comfortable. We went to Sherif's apartment and enjoyed some tea. He was so happy to see me inside his home. I wasn't wrong…there are good natured and kind people everywhere. It is not monopoly of one country or people. I thanked him for all the kindness and finally parted.

The nightfall arrived and I had to try to get some sleep. I will be leaving to the bus station to Mali very early so I said goodbye to Michelle over the phone. She lives far away from the center of the city so we couldn't meet up again since we parted when we arrived in Abidjan. She sounded very sad that I had to leave the following day. She wished I could extend my stay and she could perhaps take me out to see the Abidjan nightlife. It was a kind gesture, but I am a backpacker and my goal is to get on the road. You can easily get attached to people and end up losing yourself. I thanked her for all the kindness and support before getting some sleep.

Next episode

It would feature the experience from Abidjan to Mali and beyond with photos.

Cool.

Nice One op.
First time viewing africa through the eyes of a ghanian.
Good writing skills.
Keep it coming.

ojeota:
Nice One op. First time viewing africa through the eyes of a ghanian. Good writing skills. Keep it coming.

more to come

Good one there...................
Waiting for more

This is continuation of the last episode 'My journey Across West Africa Pt. 1'.

Dear readers,
You must be curious as to where the wind blew me from Abidjan. I hope you find the entries and experience bellow most enjoying.

Journal entry – Start

Date: 11/11/11

Time: 2:44PM

Currently at about 40km north of Yamoussoukro. We have come through Tiasale and Toumodi.

I am in the very middle belt of Lake Kossou, the largest lake in Ivory Coast. Bouake is our next stop.

Durable roads. Impressive attitude towards road safety.

Yamoussoukro - clean, decent, quiet. Loved it.

Cocoa revenue?

Entry conclusion

I will be a new person at all the places I'm heading to. No one would judge me because I don't have any past there; only the future.

This is rewarding and I have to experience it in the best way I can.

Journal entry – end

Commentary

I arrived at the Adjame area by 7:30AM to catch up with the bus. It was a long distance bus; about 50-60 passenger seats. No, this was not a Yotong or KIA; it was a very large and long old Mercedes bus. The seats were metal covered in rubber leather.

As courtesy demands, I gave my two hosts some CFA franc as my form of appreciation and gratitude for the accommodation and kindness. This excited them greatly. I especially wished them well in their search for job.

Wish I could have stayed more in Ivory Coast but that was not possible. This was much of a window backpacking for me. It was my motive but not a firm plan that I would try to spend no more than 3 days in a country. Two or three days weren't really enough to have great experience of a country. I wanted to do this as quickly as possible so I can return home and start planning and training for my Mt. Kilimanjaro climb bid, India and Southeast Asia travel.

To do this was a great eye opener for me. Most Ghanaians I know actually think that most of West Africa and large portion of the continent is drowned in political violence, poverty and extreme backwardness. It was my attempt to corroborate this perception. When I informed one of my friends about my plans to travel across West Africa, his response I recall was something like, “you can go anywhere else but not those areas. They would not only steal from you but would also harm you.” How did he know that when he has never stepped outside the borders of Ghana in his entire life? My guess is probably from what he has heard or read. But is everything we have heard or read true?

St. Augustine was right. The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.

I intend to offer my objective experience of each country and the people as I saw them and not to try to demean them in anyway

We left Abidjan by 10AM and headed up north. The bus was packed and over-loaded. There were 4 seats in every roll with passageway in between like the conventional bus seating arrangement. They used gallons to block the passageway making it 5 seats in every roll. This obstructed the passageway. They didn't do this from the bus terminal so my guess was that the behavior wasn't sanctioned. They picked extra passengers as we journeyed. I was in the second roll on the second seat from left so the gallon was right next to me. The passenger sitting on the gallon would sleep and fall right on me every now and then. Though I was uncomfortable, I thought that it was funny.

We continued through Sikinssi, Toumodi to Yamoussoukro in about 4 hours or so. We covered about 240km of distance. Yamoussoukro was a decent city; clean, quiet and refreshing. We stopped over for about an hour so I was able to take a quick leisurely walk and returned back right on time before the horn was blown for re-boarding.

The Ivorian roads were durable. I was most especially impressed with their attitude towards road safety. They would indicate with both tree branches and warning hazard reflectors more than 1km away from broken vehicles. This was contrast to the attitude in Ghana. In Ghana, you would only find the warning hazard reflectors about 50-100ft from the broken vehicle. The Ivorian attitude provides approaching vehicles with all angles of opportunity to avoid collision with a broken vehicle ahead. I suspect every car carries with it not less than 5 road hazard reflectors for this purpose.

We came across several French Military command cars on the road. It seems as though they were coming from some sort of drill because they came our way very often and in numbers. By this time I had began to understand what Michelle, Sherif and my two hosts lamented about the strong French Military presence in Ivory Coast.

My books and iPod provided me with so much entertainment and distraction as my co-passenger slept and fell on me often. I brought with me some of my favorite books; The Old Man and the Sea; Ernest Hemingway, Revised Edition- The Clash of Civilizations; Samuel Huntington and The Greatest Show On Earth; Richard Dawkins. My iPod was most enjoying. I made three long playlist of random tracks; one of rock and alternative, another of movie soundtracks and the last of world music. The following were the 15 most played tracks on my iPod in order at that time:

#1 Bed of Roses – Bon Jovi
#2 We weren't Born to Follow – Bon Jovi
#3 Love's the Only Rule – Bon Jovi
#4 I'm Forrest…Forest Gump – Soundtrack (Forrest Gump)
#5 The Living Years – Mike & The Mechanics
#6 Makoma Mo Toffee – Daddy Lumba
#7 Himalaya Trekking Song – Rosamm Phiriry
#8 Fix You – Coldplay
#9 Kro Kro Me – Amakye Dede
#10 In the Spider's Web – Himalayan Folk tune
#11 You're No Different – Soundtrack (Forrest Gump)
#12 This Afternoon - Nickelback
#13 Imagine – John Lennon
#14 Johnny B. Goode – Chuck Berry
#15 Bird On a Wire – Soundtrack (SOA)

Also on my iPod were my 5 favorite movies of all time.

Casablanca
Forrest Gump
The Shawshank Redemption
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.
City of God

I can recite almost every line of dialogue involving Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. I can watch the movies above forever and never get tired of them.

All of the above were my source of entertainment and distraction as I traveled along.

I didn't have to be very much prepared for everything. All I needed to do was to adapt.

In the midst of all of this, I became very excited that I'm headed to Mali, one of the earliest African civilizations. Timbuktou for instance has always held my curiosity. It is one of those rare areas that still stand unaffected by any form of progress for thousands of years. Mansa Musa, Mari Djata, Sumanguru and Sundiata spring to mind. These are some names almost every Ghanaian student should be able to spill out about the ancient Mali Empire. I planned to go further up north to Timbuktou when I come through Mali later in my travel to see the ruins of our ancestral origin. Some musical legends such as Ali Farka, Boubacar Traore and Rokia Traore also sprung to mind. Would I chance upon any concert? I kept wondering to myself. I don't understand any of the word in Ali Farka's 'Savane' Album which was released after his death in 2006 for example, but it is so soothing and beautiful to listen to that I don't even want to know whatever it is he sings about. That's the beauty of good music.

Journal Entry – start

Date: 13/11/11

Time: 10:59AM
Location: Bamako, Mali

I feel so intense.

I have seen much. I find it so hard to sum up my feelings about Mali so far. Poverty is everywhere. Women and children seem to bear the responsibilities here. The men smoke all day, eat meat and drink sugar-filled soda in larger size. Oh to what end?

Entry conclusion

I'm the stranger in Mali but Mali itself is not strange it seems.

It is rare opportunity to experience any form of adversity because it cannot be reclaimed from you.

Journal entry – end

Commentary

My last entry was on the afternoon of 11/11/11 somewhere around Tiebiessou in Central Ivory Coast. I was too tired, sleepy and stressed to put down anything.

We came through Tiebiessou to Bouake from Yamoussoukro. We stopped in Bouake for a little while and continued towards Niakaramandougou through Katiola onwards to Korhogo. Korhogo is where Laurent Gbagbo was being held before his transfer to The Hague. It's one of Alhassan Outtara's strongholds. I suspect he was being held there to prevent his supporters from making attempt to break him away. We continued to Ferkessedougou where we had to spend the night for security reasons. By then we were about 150km away from Zegoua; the Ivory Coast - Mali border.

We arrived at Ferkessedougou around 8PM. At first I thought we were going to be transferred to a local hotel. A local hotel? I soon realized that was not the case. We weren't even permitted to sleep on the bus. You have to come outside either to hang around or rent a mat to sleep in the open until when it is around 5AM when we are supposed to re-board. You sleep in the open throughout the night.

I wandered around and thought if it were possible to find my way back to Korhogo that evening, perhaps walk around a bit and then return back to the bus terminal at Ferkessedougou. This was not really possible. What if I could not find my way back to Ferkessedougou on time and the bus is forced to leave with my backpack? I abandoned this idea and continued touring Ferkessedougou most of the evening. I chanced upon a local traditional wear boutique where I bought a piece. Most people think I'm weird and crazy when I wear it in my area.

A fella saw me sat quiet at a tea seller's joint and invited me to join him on his rented mat. He was called Armend. He could notice I'm a traveler; one full of curiosity. He's a French citizen of Ivorian origin. He's headed to some part of Southern Mali to repatriate his family back to Abidjan. His family fled to Mali during the war so he flew all the way from France to attend to them. He thought my adventure was interesting and that he wished he could do the same. We spent the night chatting and sharing experiences. In the end he concluded that I have made him realized all this while he had developed some sense of false security whilst living in Lion, France. He began to feel he is much safer and best suited to live his life going about the same routine all year long. He came back to Ivory Coast because he thought his family needed him most. He thought that our conversation made him realize how monotonous and boring his life has been. We ordered us some boiled eggs as we continued communing. Why why why? He blared in a humorous way. He concluded that he is going to make some radical changes to his life and unwind a bit to have more fun and try some adventures. It seems I have woken up the spirit of adventure in Armend. To know I have sparked the spirit of adventure in another person offered me great pleasure. He decided he'd come with me if he didn't have to attend to his family but I reminded him perhaps going to Mali itself is an adventure since he has never come that far up North before.

The night went so fast and soon we had to re-board to continue towards the border. We came through Wangolodougou and finally to the border around 11AM on 12/11/11. To my surprise, the posts at the Ivorian side have been abandoned. There were no customs and immigration officers. This I found out was because of the war. The customs and immigration officers abandoned their post and formed part of the Outtara militia that fought against Laurant Gbagbo. But Gbagbo has been captured and the war has ended…why aren't they at post? I exited the Northern border without the exit stamp in my passport.

We went through the border crossing formalities on the Mali side and continued north to Sikasso. These formalities always include paying certain amount at different desks and barriers. I will be changing bus in Sikasso and Armend would also be changing to elsewhere. He was the only person I encountered who could speak English but he would be leaving me soon and I would not have any friend.

We made it to Sikasso later in the afternoon. I had to go for a transit ticket from the counter but the place was too crowded and jumbled up. To my surprise, a very beautiful young Ivorian lady in her mid twenties approached and asked in a very difficult to understand accent almost in these same words…”I help you to go for ticket for Bamako okay? ” It seems as though we are never lost in this world. Yvonne is young, attractive, fair and sweet looking. I had traveled with her from Abidjan. She sat about two rolls behind me. She might have heard me speak with Armend and thought that I might need further assistance with the language since Armend couldn't any further. She was also headed to Bamako. Yvonne is so attractive that she seems to wield lots of influence around. You know how attractive women can easily wield influence on the opposite gender. It was quite a crowd but everyone paved the way for her to get the transit tickets for both of us. She came back and whisked me away into the new bus. She had become protective already. Women can be very kind. To have a new companion, and for it to be Yvonne was so refreshing. Though it was difficult, she could at least express herself in English. I didn't mind just looking at her whilst she struggles to utter another word in English. She was smart and very funny.

By this time, I started to become sincerely intense about my new environment already. The level of poverty and adversity I witnessed in that area of Mali was difficult to bear. Children as young as 4 years would surround you with bowl begging for penny whilst grown up men sit on the tire eating meat and observing with great amazement. The women would be carrying heavy load going up and down and the teenage boys would be pulling donkeys with heavy loads. This was in direct contrast to the situation at everywhere else I have been to. That was my first real encounter with those conditions. It was truly difficult for me to watch.

Sitting next to Yvonne was a comfort. She was headed to Bamako to visit her sister for about a week or so. She offered to assist me to find accommodation when we get to Bamako. She found what I was doing interesting. She seems to have similar thoughts with Michelle and Sherif about the French establishment in Ivory Coast. The only Ivorian who seems indifferent to the French presence in Ivory Coast was Armend. Why would he? Armend himself is an Ivorian turned French. Technically he was also a foreigner in Ivory Coast.

The Malian forest and isolated villages were quiet and beautiful. The indigenous at the isolated villages would smile and wave at every passing car from their mud huts. They seemed very happy to me. So much quality of life can be obtained at isolated locations especially villages and countryside. We arrived in Bamako around 6PM finally. Yvonne called and asked if her sister knew any decent hotel around her area she could recommend to me. All the sister's recommendations were beyond my budget. Where do I find a hostel in Bamako? There were no backpackers' hostels in Bamako. Even when I considered her sister's recommendations, all the inns were occupied. Places of accommodation were limited. It was already my idea that whenever I 'm unable to find accommodation, I would go for my bus ticket and hang around the terminal until departure. Almost every taxi I sat inside was filled with smoke. Taxi drivers in Bamako take little notice of their passengers when they indulge in smoking in the car. I experienced this on several occasions. The sister suggested I stay with her and the family for the night and pay 10,000 CFA franc. She convinced me it was the most comfortable place I could stay at that moment since I couldn't find any accommodation. I gave this thought and decided that it was a good deal for me. Yvonne has been very kind and extremely helpful and I would love to stay closer.

Yvonne suggested we take a walk and have a feel of the Bamako nightlife. There were limited things to do. There was nothing agreeable to eat that evening except fruits and snacks. Yvonne was the center of attention with her imposing appearance everywhere we went. She wore shorts and loose t-shirt. It seems like the Malians were not used to such views so she was able to light almost everywhere up with her curvy and athletic features. I would walk behind sometimes to gaze at her stylish way of walking. She was gorgeous and alluring even in her casual attire. I had thought the capital would be littered with live band stages with amateur singers but that was not the case. Yvonne provided me with laughter so it was equally an entertaining evening.

I will be heading to Kouremale; the Mali-Guinea border in the South-Western region in the following morning so it was time for me to try to get some sleep. I slept soundly that evening.

Yvonne came with me to the bus station in the morning to wish me farewell. She was sad I had to leave soon. She gave me a warm hug and warned me to be careful out there and return back to Mali safe. She told me she might try to extend her stay in Bamako to wait for my approach from West in the coming weeks. It seems we enjoyed each other's company and would love to continue from where we left since I will be coming through Mali again. Yvonne was very kind and generous. My heart was heavy I had to leave her so soon but the thought of seeing her again would provide me with fond memories and thoughts about her in the coming days.

Next Episode

This would feature the experience from Mali-Guinea-Sierra Leone with photos.

Nice one bro pls cont ur story

I love ur story pls cont

please can u post Yvonne's pix?

This story is highly interesting pls continue

Dear readers,

This is continuation of the account of my journey across West Africa. I hope you enjoy the read.

Journal entry – Start
Date: 13/11/11
Location: Bamako, Mali

Time: 1:03PM
The minivan to Conakry is full after waiting for hours.
I'm heading to Coyah, western Guinea.
Sharing the single front passenger seat with a middle aged woman.

Entry conclusion

The existing social arrangements in Mali have tremendously impacted my impression about the human condition

Journal entry – End

Commentary

I did not really know the direction we were heading but I did know that in any case we have to eventually end up at Kouremale, the border between Mali and Guinea. This effort should bring me to the north and through the very heart of Guinea. I expected to come through cities like Siguiri, Kankan, Mamou, Kindia and eventually to Coyah, where I would continue west to Pamalap, the Guinea-Sierra Leone border town.

I have condemned myself to freedom and must face the consequences. I started to miss my family, friends and most especially my bed. I thought of making myself some jollof in my kitchen at home. It is true that I was missing some familiar companionship but there are very few with whom I could relate to even if I were home. Most people I know are consumed by things and do not really understand the essence of genuine human relationship. I see beauty in the way people around me cannot understand. There is an innate and strong desire in all of us to seek happiness in any form we can. To go away for a while to me was an expression of this desire. Though it is true we need food, clothing, shelter and some material things in order to survive, it's my belief that a life devoid of genuine and sincere human relationship is meaningless.

I wasn't really surprised by the condition that two of us have to occupy the single front passenger seat because this phenomenon is practiced around rural areas in Ghana, but to be crammed in a single seat with another person plus 11 passengers in a minivan for about 1000km journey wasn't something I was looking forward to. To be comfortable, I'd have to pay twice to enjoy the luxury of one seat but that was beyond my budget. I wasn't out there looking for comfort so it turned out as it were to be the least of my concerns at that moment.

We used the Kalabanbougou route. The geologic formation of this area is breathtaking. We crossed both Kouremale and the Guinean side of the border by 4:50PM and continued to the northeastern region of Guinea. We came through Simba, Tomboko, Biramfero, Banankora and finally to Siguiri, a city situated on the Niger River around 5:30PM. We continued south and drove over River Tinkisso. The sunset on the river was amazing. About 3km further south was the location where River Tinkisso runs into River Niger. It was a marvelous sight to behold. Tembakunda, River Niger's main source is about 70km further south from this area. River Niger is the longest running river in West Africa and the only third in Africa after the Nile and Congo River. It runs from central Guinea through Mali, Niger, Nigeria and empties into the Gulf of Guinea through Niger Delta. I have already seen the trail of the river in Bamako and will see it again in Niger and Nigeria in the coming weeks.

We continued south through Karakoro following the snaky trail of River Niger, to Kankan, the second populous city in Guinea around 7:15PM. To our surprise, the driver decided to abandon us here to find different means to our various destinations since he's missing two passengers. Two passengers came along whilst we were protesting the decision so we continued south throughout the night through Dabola to Mamou. The driver will run over different kinds of animals on the unpaved and dusty roads and will stop and pack them into the trunk. We drove slowly when we came through the thick forests. This was a precaution to avoid running into wild animals. I drew the driver's attention to parade of elephants we nearly run into. Crammed in, I remained awake throughout the night navigating the unpaved roads with him. It was amazing to do this. I have always imagined myself in the middle of thick forest doing exactly what I was doing.

Journal entry – start

Date: 14/11/11

Time: 2:35PM

At Coyah township. The long distance taxi is about half full. Hopefully the road to Pamalap is paved.

Had little sleep. Was up all night. Tired and exhausted.

Entry conclusion

So far one thing is becoming clear to me. Ghana, Ivory Coast, Mali, and Guinea – we seem to share common problems. We seem to apply very little effort into solving the problems around us.

Journal entry – end

Commentary

We came through Marga, Sugeta, Fofota, and finally to Kindia where we had to stop for a while to service the car. The junction to Coyah was finally at sight after over 24 hours of constant journey. I made it to the Junction around 1:30PM and took a motorcycle to the Township to join transportation to Pamalap, the Guinea-Sierra Leone border town. We left Coyah around 3:30PM in a long distance taxi and came through Laforedaka, Yoreya, Forecaria to Pamalap around 6PM. There was another Peugeot long distance taxi heading to Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone from this area so I quickly joined. The Guinean side of the border was an easy cross, unlike the Sierra Leonean.

“What is your purpose of visit to Sierra Leone?” The Sierra Leone immigration official inquired.

“Just to see uhmm your country…nothing else,” I responded.

“Tourism?” He further inquired.

“Yes that's right,” I responded.

“A Ghanaian coming to Sierra Leone for tourism?” He continued interrogating me, "No way…that's not possible."

“Are you sure you are Ghanaian…not Nigerian?” He continued the interrogation, as he took my passport.

“…but why did you come through Guinea?" He questioned, trying to flip through my passport at the same time, "It doesn't make sense…no I will not allow you into Sierra Leone because I find it hard to believe you are here just to see Sierra Leone”

“Well…because that's where I came from," I responded, "you should know Mr uhmm...what is your name please?”

“You don't have to know my name my friend,” he responded.

The exchanged went on for few minutes and my final response was like this,

“Sorry officer I don't think you have any basis to refuse me entry into Sierra Leone," I argued, "the fact that I came through Guinea is not good enough. I have every right under the ECOWAS treaty to access your country and to refuse me under no basis would be a violation of the treaty.”

“What…what…what treaty?” He toned his voice as he inquired.

“Article 3 uhm and 34 of the ECOWAS treaty which your country is a member,” I answered.

“I see…you came prepared…you know all of that,” he continued.

To which he continued as follows,

“Okay then you must pay 30,000 Leones,” he demanded.

“I don't have much I will pay 20,000,” I quickly bargained.

“Okay bring it…how long should I permit you to stay in Sierra Leone?” As he got ready to stamp my passport.

“May be two days….three days,” I answered.

“One month…or?” He inquired.

“I will give you 72 hours then and make sure you let me see you before existing because I find it hard to believe you are here just to see Sierra Leone…hmm,” he continued.

I gave him the 20,000 Leones and immediately whisked it into his pocket and at that point, he looked right into my eyes and winked. 'No hard feelings…just business' I thought was what the wink implied.

Twenty thousand Leones was about 7-8 Cedis then. I realized this was a lot of money as it read into thousands. It was a good bargain for me. The Sierra Leonean passengers in the long distance taxi were getting impatient with the impasse so I had to get him off my back as quickly as possible so I don't become the obstacle because everyone was in a hurry to make it to Freetown before midnight.

“Oh..oh..ohh…ooohhh…uh you paid 20,000 Leones?” My fellow passengers shouted as we continued our journey.

I actually brought with me copy of the ECOWAS treaty in the case I run into such scenarios. I know it can be difficult sometimes but at least it helped. Always make sure you know the rules and regulations of the country you are visiting.

We left Kambia and continued south through Maifa, Magbema, Makali, Port Loko to Konno Town. Kono is the diamond rich area of Sierra Leone. This area perhaps was the most chaotic and devastated area during the civil war. This area featured the plot in the Blood Diamond film featuring Leonardo DiCaprio. Further forward were Waterloo and the Small Boys Unit area. These were the famous areas children were recruited and trained by the militants during the civil war. The child soldiers would be unleashed from this area to cut the limbs, mutilate and freely shoot the civilian population. The sight of the area was depressing.

The young couple I sat next to started to curse each other very loud in the car. Something was not right. They spoke Creole…sounded similar to the Nigerian Pidgin. They continued cursing each other in the car. There was a woman breast feeding her baby in front of me so it reminded me of an Irish joke I once heard so I decided to break the fight and tell them the joke. Sierra Leone is an English speaking country so I didn't have any communication issues. Well the joke worked. I told the joke.

A young beautiful woman sat in the bus with Murphy, and started to breast feeding her baby. “Eat it or I will give it to the man over there,” she pointed to Murphy as she played with the baby.

About twenty minutes later, she again repeated it and said, “Eat it or I will give it to the man over there,” Murphy continued reading his magazine.

Another twenty minutes goes by and the woman picks the baby up once again. “For f**k's sake,” Murphy said, “Make your f***king mind up. I was supposed to have got off four stops ago.”

The whole taxi lighted up into laughter. The couple laughed and laughed. The young bride nearly chocked from laughter. They ended up holding and kissing each other in the car after the laugh. It was such a romantic scene.

We came through Hastings and finally to Freetown around 10PM. The road from Kambia to Freetown was very good so we arrived on time. The reunited couple assisted me in finding accommodation in the middle of the city. They were very kind.

I finally settled in my hotel which was at the center of downtown Freetown. I was at the center of Freetown and the nightlife was at my very door steps. An old fella occupying the room next to mine seemed excited about the atmosphere so he came with me downstairs to have a feel of the nightlife. He was probably in his 60s if I'm not mistaken. He works for the local government in the eastern part of the country and stays at the hotel whenever he's in Freetown. It was like the Singapore's Geylang streets; broads stood at almost every corner, whistling and winking at us. The cafés and inns were almost like the depictions in the Blood Diamond film; busy, noisy, beer on almost every table and broads walking about. I couldn't stay up long so retired back to my room and had a sound sleep.

I woke up in the middle of a very busy city center, checked-out and started my day. The 'Cotton Tree' was the first thing I wanted to see. Legend has it that the first African American slaves who settled on the African continent after gaining their independence first landed around this site in the late 18th century. After landing on the shoreline, they walked up to this giant tree, held a thanksgiving service and thanked God for their deliverance to a free land. This giant tree is held as an historic symbol in Freetown. I navigated myself to the tree which is near the Supreme Court, sat opposite it and attended to my eyes for a while.

I decided to hop-on any coming public transportation to any end at all.
“Lumley! Lumley!! Lumley!!,” a taxi driver called. I jumped in quickly as there was throng of people looking for transportation. “Where are you going?” The taxi driver inquired. “Anywhere...to the last stop” I responded. I ended up at a beach area where I spent few hours walking to the other side of the shoreline.

Next Episode

The push to north continues. Make a time same day next week.

Pls next week is too long for the continuation of this lovely story pls continue Today

good4all:
Pls next week is too long for the continuation of this lovely story pls continue Today

tomorrow n will also post some pictures

Still waiting for your continuation

Nice one brother

Nice one brother i love that pls cont brother

Dear readers,

The narration of my journey across West Africa continues.

Journal Entry – Start
Date: 15/11/11
Time: 4:44PM

I am heading back north to the Guinea border en route to Conakry.

Freetown was a wonderful experience. Kind people.
Entry conclusion

The level of progress in Sierra Leone indicates how fast they are recovering from the traumatic events.

Journal entry – end

Commentary
To have come this far to Freetown was something to me and the desire to go further was something even more.

I have seen much of Freetown already and must retreat back north. I have to head back to Kambia border, cross into Guinea and continue to the capital; Conakry. I would continue the push to Guinea Bissau from the capital.

I thought whether it was possible to enter Liberia through the northern border, but it still was not safe. Traveling overland was not advisable due to the rising political tension in the country at that time.

I left Freetown around 3:15PM came through Waterloo, Konno Town, Port Loko and to the Kambia border by 6:00PM when it was just about to be closed. I came with five Sierra Leonean female traders heading to Conakry to trade.

I visited with the Sierra Leone immigration officer who will not believe a Ghanaian would come to Sierra Leone for tourism. He was surprised to see me going out so soon.

“Well…what did I tell you?” I joked.

“Can I have my 20,000 Leones back….or maybe 10,000?” I continued.

“Ghanaians…you have money," He joked, "Ghanaians and Nigerians you have money. You must give me more money”

We left Kambia and came to Pamelap where we had to spend the night. Criminal gangs in the area normally target Sierra Leonean traders traveling to Conakry at night so it made sense spending the night in Pamelap for this reason. Conakry itself did not look like a city travelers' safety is guaranteed at night.

Pamelap is a small community and would be difficult to find accommodation. The Sierra Leonean women became protective of me. I became immensely affected by all the acts of kindness. There are kind people almost everywhere, especially women. Majority of Westerners who visit Ghana would affirm that Ghanaians are hospitable and generous people. Most West Africans would, however, disagree with that observation. I bow my head in shame conceding this truth. Nigerians, Sierra Leoneans, Liberians and many other West African nationals are cast in a certain light on the mind of the typical Ghanaian - uncultured and prone to immoral behavior. Nigeriophobia is an example. This is the irrational fear that almost every Nigerian is prone to criminal behavior and that one must avoid coming in contact with them at every possible opportunity. This unfounded fear is widespread not only in Ghana but around the continent and beyond. There is no truth to this, however. Nigeria is the most populous country in Africa and the 7th populous in the world and has over six times the population of Ghana. In terms of land mass, Nigeria is about four times the size of Ghana. I can put it in this form - in every square mile of random world population, a Nigerian has about 1.9-2.0% chance of appearing than a Ghanaian. The Ghanaian population is about 15% of the Nigerian. One and half (1.5) percent of the Nigerian population is about 2.4million. That is the population of Accra and Cape Coast combined. Imagine criminals the size of both Accra and Cape Coast' populations combined, unleashed on the world from a single country. Well that is one and half percent of the Nigerian population. By these mathematical considerations, it makes lots of sense to dismiss the notion that almost every Nigerian is prone to criminal behavior. The intelligent approach to this is to consider every criminal or immoral behavior on individual basis. Every Ghanaian is only credit to Ghana but personally responsible for their actions. If this principle is true, we can agree that it applies to every country.

We can easily deduce that, the prejudice towards other West Africans in Ghana is borne out of the cultural differences. It is true for instance that there exist vast cultural differences between say Liberia and Ghana. Taking Liberia for instance, the country was founded only in the mid nineteenth century by black colonialists who migrated from the United States. They were the freed black slaves who settled and colonized the indigenous in that area. In addition, freed slaves from captured slave ships were also sent there. The area was saturated with racial supremacy as the Americans thought of themselves as being more superior over the indigenous and other slaves. Unlike us, large portion of the population did not have any deep-seated cultural heritage to guide them. It was a whole new beginning for them. Whilst most Ghanaian ethnicities and its' heritage have been in existence in this area for hundreds of years, Liberia and most of its ethnicities have only been around for less than 200 years. Majority of them lacks distant cultural background. Under this basis, you should understand why a Liberian may behave in a manner which may be misconstrued by the Ghanaian as uncultured. One can make the case that their cultural refinement is taking its own pace. Is that not a characteristic of a young society?

There was an inn at the entry to the Pamelap community purposely to serve the traders that get caught up there. It was such a crowd. You pay 5000 Guinean franc for night. There was no electricity in most part of the area so it was almost entirely dark. The room was so hot and stuffy. About forty people were combined in one large room. I remained outside with my backpack the entire night.

The distance from Pamelap to Conakry is about 120km so it wasn't very much of a distance to cover. We left very early around 4:00AM and arrived in Conakry at 5:50AM. There were military checkpoints every few kilometers. Each of us in the bush taxi contributed about 25,000 Guinean franc in total to pay at every checkpoint. The road was paved but with lots of portholes.

Journal Entry – start
Date: 16/11/11
Time: 12:05 PM

What has befallen French Guinea?

Who promotes the law?

Is this the cost of ultimate freedom?

How do things work here?

Are there underground train tracks linking Conakry to Bamako directly?

Entry conclusion
This is true human tragedy.
How is lawlessness promoted? When society refuses to punish law breakers duly.

Whoever breaks the law deserves to be punished

Commentary
I entered the above entry sitting quietly on a bench about a kilometer away from Conakry Int'l Airport, observing the conditions in Conakry. Conakry represents the case where a society ultimately breaks down when law and order are not observed. It seems as though law and order were never established there at all. I did not see any sign indicating otherwise. Almost everyone tilted the law to fit their personal needs. They broke the law whenever convenient.

A society that doesn't punish the lawless does itself more harm than good. This condition creates comfortable environment for lawlessness to foster. Chaos and social breakdown are among some of the results of this. This is the case with many third world countries, which Ghana and Guinea form part. Successful societies are, however, run in contrast to this attitude.

We have similar attitude in Ghana. Law breakers use poverty as an excuse to break the law and we refuse to punish them.

For the first time it seems as though I was about to walk away from a challenge. To stay further in Conakry was a challenge to me. I have never seen anything like that. Conakry presents the entire state of Guinea on a very thin sheet at glance. After wandering around the capital for about six hours, I was ready to continue to Guinea Bissau already.

Almost every corner of the capital was littered with garbage. Road traffic was not observed. Traffic lights did not work and the once that did were completely ignored by road users. The drivers would run into pedestrians in the quest to find shortcut to the end of the road. I witnessed a taxi drove into the bamboo crafted shop of an orange seller destroyed it and continued without stopping to neither sympathize nor compensate her. It was total chaos. There was total disregard for human life. Conakry to me was a human tragedy.

I hasten to locate the Guinea Bissau car park. The entire bush taxis heading to Bissau, the capital of Guinea Bissau in this car park will have to go through Senegal. That would take about three days if I was not mistaken. I wanted to go directly to Bissau. There is indeed a mini bus heading directly to Bissau but I have to travel to another car park in the Marche Medina area. A fellow volunteered to lead me to the car park. The world is never short of kind people, not even in the tragedy Conakry represented. His name was Ahmed. That is what travel does to travelers; you befriend and trust strangers. It is not bad sometimes, at least not to me, because I do not buy into the mindset that the world is a dangerous place and that everyone is plotting to harm me. Ahmed later narrated to me the story of how Ghana Immigration Officials robbed him of his entire savings when he tried to escape the hardship of Guinea to Ghana in search of a better life in the mid 90s.

First, I wanted to print something off my email, and the only location Ahmed thought would suit my need very well was an internet café inside the premises of Conakry Int'l Airport. The internet speed was very slow that I couldn't even access the msn login homepage after 45 minutes. At that point, I thought I was wasting too much time that the mini bus to Guinea Bissau must be getting ready to leave without me. We arrived at the car park only to be informed that the bus to Bissau directly would only be leaving the following day. This presented me with a challenge. An adventure without such challenges is not an adventure at all. In any event, I did not intend to stay in Conakry. I consulted my map and reached a resolution. I resolved to head up north, cross into southeast of Senegal and continue to Dakar en route to the archipelago islands of Cape Verde in the central Atlantic ocean. I would come down south to Guinea Bissau when I come to Gambia later on. The choice to head any direction is another privilege of the human species. I forged my own path. I could go any direction I want as long as it is legal and the course leads to somewhere. In addition, there must be food, water and some scenic views. It was my choice to do whatever I wanted.

The overland distance from Conakry to the Senegalese capital is about 1300km. This should take at least three days to cover. The tires of the bush taxi to Senegal looks as if it were about to shred itself into pieces. The reliable thing about bush taxis is that they cannot be relied upon. They would lengthen short distance with overheating, flat tire and all sorts of problems.

We have to go through Boffa, Koussaya, Boke, Gaoul to Koundara and cross the northwestern border and continue to Kalifourou to change bus/taxi to Dakar.

We left Conakry around 1:30PM through Bogaya to Correra. There were military checkpoints and barriers every few kilometers. This effort will turn out to be my ride through hell. I was constantly harassed and coerced into paying money at almost every military checkpoint. I will be threatened to pay 10,000 or 5000 franc at every checkpoint. They wouldn't permit the car through the barrier if I did not pay. I couldn't negotiate because it was pay or no crossing. I was the only one harassed and forced to pay because I was the only foreigner in the car. They would wonder if I knew where I have come to and where I am heading. I often thought they were crazy. I guess they thought the same about me.

We shared the road with other bush taxis. Some of the taxis carried with them heavy loads, over speeding and overtaking each other in the portholes. Scroungers would sit comfortably on the peak of the loads smiling and conversing. The portholes would sway the taxis together with the loads to the other side as if they were about to roll over. Compared to other bush taxis, our Peugeot didn't have any load at all. The road would get soggy when it rains and the shredded tires would lift the dirt and showers it all over the car. The countryside was very quiet. The towns and villages had no electricity. The only light that brightened over the stretch of roads came from the sun in the day and the low intensity of the moon and fires that were dotted in the forests at night. It sometimes seems as if there was a war and the entire population of the towns and villages were evacuated to the other side of the deep forest.

We traveled the entire night through Boke, to Gouba en route to the footsteps of Gaoual. Our car broke down around midnight in the middle of the forest. We had no option but to continue with the busted tire to the next village which was about 30 miles into distance. My sense of safety was lost. The affair and its consequences didn't seem to bother me because I have become a Guinean and must endure the conditions. Anything could come out from the forest and attack us if we decided to stop to change the tire, so we continued slowly through the woods on the unpaved roads to the village around 2:00AM. The village was calm; cold with the tree leaves beating each other and owls singing. I slept under a shed with my backpack serving as the pillow for the rest of the night. I woke up around 7:00AM and took a walk around the village. I drunk water and ate some hot sweet potatoes that morning to replenish my dissipating strength. Sweet potatoes with salt were the common food in the village. I really needed all the nutrients the sweet potatoes could offer. I perked up after this fare and was ready to attend to my journals. I ate more potatoes, fruits and some raw vegetables most times throughout my travel to maintain some balance.

After over 24 hours of traveling through the unpaved narrow woods of central and northern Guinea, we finally arrived at Koundara, a northern town. There was a big customs checkpoint here. I was supposed to pay some 10,000 or 5000 franc as usual, but the gracious custom official pitied me upon the look at my state of appearance and gave me a free pass. He could understand what I have gone through and the total amount I was forced to pay since the previous day. I have covered about 700km of distance with much of the road being unpaved and dusty in a bush taxi. I was so tired, stressed out and looked dirty. I haven't showered since I left Freetown so just imagine how I was looking. I was singled out by the custom officials for thorough search. They all busted into laughter when they found pack of Durex condoms in my backpack. Why would they laugh at something like that? The pack was part of my survival kit. The custom guy got hysterical after he found fish hook and Swiss knife in my backpack. He didn't know what the fish hook was at first. He thought it was some sort of weapon. He started theorizing I could possibly be some sort of foreign spy agent because he didn't understand why I would have some of the stuffs I had in my backpack. Where am I heading to? What could I possibly be up to? He took me to his superior who was able to decipher that the strange looking bended thing is a fish hook. But why would I have that with me? My explanation didn't sit well with them. It's a survivalist mindset. You have to be prepared at most times in case of anything. I could go to fishing in the case for instance, our bush taxi break down and there was no food and there happened to be fish habitat nearby. They took my iPod, scrolled through the photos and realized I'm not a foreign spy agent after all. They finally permitted our bush taxi a pass after about an hour and half of the impasse.

We finally crossed the border into Senegal and continued to Kalifourou where I changed bus to Dakar around 4:30PM on 17/11/11. I was so relieved to come into Senegal. The road was better and the atmosphere was different.

Next Episode
This would feature the complete Cape Verde experience accompanied with photos.

PS: This is my first attempt writing such long articles so forgive me for all the grammatical and spelling errors you may stumble upon. I am not a good writer at all.

Very loving story

Interesting....
Waiting.....

Who told you you are not a good writer, infact you deserve a medal for this writeup keep it up Bro.

wow

wow!!!! such a wonderful narrative....i was literally transported to all the locations you journeyed through...i am following you faithfully

PLS CONTINUE WE ARE WAITING

Dear Readers,

The narration of my journey across West Africa continues.

Journal entry – start

Date: 20/11/11
Time: 8:13 AM.
Location: Praia, Cape Verde

I was right. Cape Verde is the only place to find agreeable things!

There is some pleasure to be experienced here.

This is a different world. It's colorful and refreshing here. The beaches are beautiful, the condition; a little better, the women; surprising beauty, the atmosphere; wonderful.

Entry conclusion

The climate, people, environment and most things are of different disposition here.

Journal entry – end

Commentary
It seems as if I have been traveling all this while just to come to Cape Verde. I have rambled and walked the mainland continent, and in relief, Cape Verde offers me its breeze and exotic women to gaze upon. It was truly a different world under my circumstances. The atmosphere was peaceful, and the beaches; quiet. I have traveled about 4500km through Ivory Coast, Mali, Sierra Leone, Guinea, to the coasts of Senegal, and finally into the Atlantic Ocean

I did not renounce my optimism in spite of the difficult conditions existing on the mainland continent.

I will continue from where the narration ended in the previous episode.

I arrived in Kalifourou around 4:00PM on 17/11/11 after the never-ending journey in a bush taxi from Conakry to the northwestern border with Senegal. It took over 24h to cover this distance

I changed bus from Kalifourou to Dakar around 4:30PM. It's about 600km from Kalifourou to Dakar but, as usual, it is always twice the estimated average amount of time required to cover the distance. Distance estimations on maps are not always true at this part of the world. We left Kalifourou around 4:30PM and arrived in Dakar around 5:00AM the following day. We came through Medina Gonasse, Tambacounda, Maleme, Koussanar, Kaffrine, Kaolack, Mbour to Dakar.
Something interesting occurred when we came through the immigration checkpoint at Medina Gonasse that evening. There was a mandatory exercise where everyone is supposed to show their passport or ID and Yellow Vaccination Card. There were different nationalities in the bus so it was quite a crowd in the cue. As soon as I handed over my Yellow Vaccination Card which bears 'Ministry of Health – Ghana' on the cover, the attending immigration officer looked at it and said to me, “Oh! Former President Kufour”…go go go!! He did not flip through the card and did not check my passport either. It had no 'Former President Kufour' written on it either. Why did he do that? Does he know something I don't? I was the only person that got through the checkpoint easy with no hassle and not having my identification checked at all. I don't understand why he allowed me an easy pass without any scrutiny, but to have used the word 'Former' indicates he's not politically ignorant. He ought to have related the 'Ministry of Health - Ghana' inscription to something at that moment. The incident caught my attention so I speculated on it for a while whilst en route to Dakar.

I will write less and allow the photos do much of the talking today.


According to a trip report on Lonelyplanet, it is possible to get a lift aboard yachts or pay a fee to catch boat from the CVD area in Dakar to Cape Verde. It was a game of luck, and I happened not to be lucky. The only yacht that could have offered me a lift to the islands left the previous day. I spent the rest of the morning in downtown Dakar looking for a good deal on flights to the island. TACV was the only airline operating from Dakar to the island at that time and happened to have a flight leaving at 11:00AM the same morning. It was around 9:30AM so I headed to the airport quickly. To my surprise the flight was canceled and rescheduled to the following day before I arrived. The travel agent probably knew and still sold me the ticket. The airline refused to provide me with accommodation because I wasn't transiting in Dakar, and as they claimed, I bought my ticket after they officially canceled the flight so it was up to me to find my own accommodation. I couldn't challenge this decision because TACV didn't look like a well organized airline.

The level of development in Dakar is astounding. The downtown is filled with high rise buildings and nice streets. I lodged in a hotel about 2km from the airport and spent almost the entire day resting and watching the Senegalese wrestling (laamb) on television. It's such an amusing sport. It was a relief to enjoy the luxury of television watching obese men wearing charms trying to wrestle each other to the ground.

You find all manner of people at Yoff Airport. “Do you have 1000 Euro cash in your pocket?" they normally questions, "if you don't them go deport you oo…I go rent you some if you want…,” you would normally hear these rants from the crowd of money changers at Yoff Airport if you are a mainlander heading to Cape Verde. It was funny. To curb the influx of immigrants from the mainland, Cape Verde immigration demands travelers mostly from the mainland continent to have nothing less than 1000 Euro cash on them to indicate they are true holiday makers and not migrating. That is a lot of money to have in your pocket, and I expect every immigration official to understand that. This didn't bother me at all.

I arrived at the airport early. Two Cape Verdean women pleaded if I could do them favor and deliver their load, which were three sealed boxes, to someone at the Praia Airport since I seem to have less weight. "Are you kidding me?" I questioned, whilst brushing them off at the same time, "check-in three boxes in my name to a foreign airport for you? Yes, how does that sound? You are so silly.”

It was a smooth flight. It was about 1h 45m to Praia. I wasn't questioned about any 1000 Euro or anything at the checkpoints. They only flipped through my passport, looked into my face and handed it over to me after stamping. It was smooth and easy. The guys at the airport were friendly and welcoming. No one used the Kotoka mantra 'give me something' on me.

Praia is the southern and the largest city of the island Santiago. It's also the capital of Cape Verde. The sight of the city was breathtaking. The smell of Atlantic Ocean was refreshing, and the sound; peaceful. The breeze blows through your hair, penetrates your lips to fill your mouth to full and widens your cheeks for a smile. I suspect cheeks were made for this purpose. I felt so alive and forgot all my worries.

Don't spend too much time and money crossing the Atlantic to Europe or North America to holiday. If you are a guy with classy taste and enjoys gazing upon exotic women, Cape Verde is your ultimate holiday spot. All you have to do is get to Dakar and connect to the islands.

I arrived in Praia around 1:00PM and spent the rest of the day walking around the city and markets. Something was lacking, however; I could only form few words in Portuguese. How do I communicate with the exotic women? The fruit venders? The people were so lovely, especially the women.

I arrived on the island on Saturday. My plans were to join boat from Praia to Sal, or Boa Vista, but the boats were already gone before I arrived. The boats move few times in a week so I had no choice but to remain on Santiago. I was on a tight budget so I couldn't afford to fly to the other islands. I spent three days in Cape Verde. I stayed at Albuquerque Square and spent most of my time in Praia. I also visited Santa Cruz municipality and few towns in between.

My favorite activity was walking along the volcanic beaches in Praia. I spent the second day having fun with the locals on the beach and walking to the Lighthouse at the southernmost part of Santiago. It seems tourist do not visit them much so they were surprised to see me around. You might as well just stay home if your plan is to avoid the locals when you travel abroad. I visited almost every spot in Praia and made my own memories.

I also visited Pedro Badejo in the Santa Cruz municipality. It was a beautiful town. The mountains and countryside were peaceful and breathtaking.

After some hardware problems with the TACV airplane, I finally made it back on the mainland continent after the third day. Returning from Cape Verde felt just like when I was heading out of the Elubo border; very active.

Next Episode
It features a surprise experience in Dakar and the push to south.

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What part of west Africa is that that looks like Europe?

Charley, well done. Nice write up

I am giantly enjoying this your story, is as if l made the voyage with you keep it coming Bro. Can't wait to read more.

Afam4eva:
What part of west Africa is that that looks like Europe?

Cape Verde.

Best thread ever, pls don't stop

Keep it coming Bro. Can't wait to read more

Pls,front page so that a whole lot of people can enjoy this adventure.cc lalasticala.