NAMIBIA – Country number 10 – NAMIBIA

12/13 MAY 2011
NAMIBIA – Country number 10 – NAMIBIA
Get to Windhoek only to leave it again
WINDHOEK AND ETOSHA Alas no elephants

Standing at Chameleon’s reception, I ‘check in’ to a tent as the dorms are full. I take it for one night as I plan on heading southwest to Swakopmund to explore the Namibian dunes from there. I’m told that is a trip leaving today at midday, visiting Etosha National Park for 2 nights, then a night at Swakopmund then onto the Namib dunes for 2 more nights. Yes, they’ll take a credit card to pay for it, so 15 minutes later I’m booked in, leaving me to chill by their swimming pool trying to gather my senses after two long days of travelling to get here. It seems odd not to be unpacking and exploring Windhoek but I always knew I would have to ‘tour’ here in Namibia at some time and why not today? Why not indeed? The timing was perfect and as it turned out I was the only tourist for this trip – my fellow passengers are Chris and Kaash, two travel agents from South Africa along with 2 Chameleon employees, Deidra and Inga. This is a new tour that combines two popular destinations and this is the maiden tour so are led by Chameleon’s proprietor, Jacqui (originally from Griffith, NSW) and our driver was the very patient Franz. Etosha is reputed to be one of the world’s greatest spots for wildlife viewing, Swakopmund is described as being more german than Germany and a destination for extreme sports enthusiasts and the Namib-Naukluft Park covers more than 23,000 sq km of arid and semi-arid land that includes Sossusvlei’s sea of dunes. And all in 6 days!
I try to remember names whilst being driven safely out of Windhoek (nice change to the usual rally driving)and we head north towards Etosha NP in a very comfortable truck. We stop briefly at Otjiwarongo where Jacqui warns us to close all windows and leave bags under the seats before leaving the truck. Now this truck has big windows but you would have to be at least 6 foot tall to reach the top of the window, let alone get in but I remind myself that security is a big issue here in Southern Africa but I do wonder if the fear feeds upon itself somewhat.

Etosha Pan

I spy with my little eye

Something beginning with L

Meals on wheels!

A real live zebra crossing

My first foray into a supermarket to spend Namibian dollars was a real treat – not since leaving Oz in December 2010 have I seen such a range of foods under one roof. Ready made salads! A liquor department! A bakery with wholemeal and grain breads along with pastries and buns! And aisles and aisles of food. I lash out and buy a half dozen each of both Namibian branded beers – Tefal and Windhoek just because there is a esky onboard the truck to chill them. Luxury or what? After my shopping thrill, we’re on our way again arriving at Etosha Village not long after sundown. Our accommodation on this tour are lodges so I have a safari style standing’ tent complete with heating, an ensuite including an open air shower (fantastic) and a luxurious bed complete with white linen. Then we are served a magnificent bbq dinner prepared by Jacqui and Franz on the Braai. Fresh salad, vegetables then there is dessert – banana, cream and biscuit crumbs. Mmmm I head to bed sated thinking that only two nights ago I was sweating up north and now I’m sleeping under a doona in the desert down south. And there is the luxury of being a guided trip with all thinking and planning being done for me from where we were going to what I will eat. I slept so well that night that I didn’t hear lions roaring or jackals howling (surprised?).
Early 5.30am start next morning with tea and ‘rusks’ – just like we used to feed to teething babies but these come in flavours! Odd but filling we’re promised brunch within Etosha National Park. Our truck is first at the gates for sunrise and in we go all eager to “spot wildlife’. Now to facilitate this our truck has a roof that raises up so we can stand on the seats for great wildlife spotting .Jacqui was our expert (I’m enjoying this brain dead experience now) and Chris was also very ‘eagle eyed’. We see giraffes and zebras, along with many birds indigenous to this area. We check out numerous waterholes but it seems that the animals are all staying in bed this morning. We stop at a gated car park for a yummy 2 course breakfast (I’m loving this tour) and then head on around the park again with Jacqui valiantly spotting anything that moves for us. We lunch at Halali and check out its waterhole, then it’s off to see the famous Etosha Pan – but after the very heavy rains Namibia has received we are unable to walk onto the pan :-(  But our still cameras click away at the distant phenomenon while Jacqui recounts its many facts, figures and qualities. More driving to return back to Okaukuejo to leave the park before sunset. Dinner tonight is the lodge’s buffet, which includes choices of bbq’ed game (farmed), like Kudu, sprinkbok etc: I tried the zebra but others said the sprigbok was delicious. lol Another early start today back at Etosha again and we see LIONS – 3 lazy lionesses to be exact. Soon enough we are joined by many other tour coaches and trucks who all jostle to give their patrons a view - one woman wants to hang out of the truck and is cautioned by her guide that “Madam, they are wild animals” and she counters this with “but I can’t see them”!! We keep wishing to see elephants throughout the morning BUT we do spot a Rhino, a dead snake and more birds together with ostrich, impala, hartebeest, warthog, squirrels, jackals, wildebeest, gemsbok, sprinbok, kudu, eland and a chameleon in course of our time here. Another great brunch then a long drive south to Swakopmund, to stay at the Dunedin Star which is more than comfortable.


FACT: For you I will summarise – Etosha means Great White Place of Dry Water, and the Etosha Pan is a saline desert that covers nearly 5000 sq km or 21% of Etosha National Park’s total 22,912 sq kms. The surrounding landscapes support 114 mammal species, 340 bird species, 16 reptile and amphibian species, one fish species and of course countless insects including the beloved fly and ant! I would have liked to have seen an elephant though!

TRANSITING GHANA AND JOHANNESBURG

11/12 MAY 2011

TRANSITING GHANA AND JOHANNESBURG

Wednesday rolls around and I get a okada to Eyari Motors who have air con vans going long distance to the various parks in Lagos. I’m asked which ‘park’ I want to go to in Lagos and when I tell them I’m going to the airport they kindly work out where they will drop me so the route to Mile Two so I can then get a taxi quickly rather than going all the way and having to cross town to get to the airport, which could easily take half a day, with Lagos’ go slows!. The driver still makes the offer of “I drop you, you pay small money?”. My lorry takes a long while to fill up meanwhile I am continually ‘pestered’ by the girls selling phone credit, biscuits, water etc Today they are really annoying me and I can’t find any breakfast nearby that suits me so I am feeling happy to be making todays’ geographical move. Eventually the van fill and we’re ready to go around 9am but who guessed that there is still a bar fridge, two ceiling fans and generator to load into the door space of the van once we’re all seated. This leads to a lot of complaining (yelled of course) but the driver is not perturbed because this is an easy ‘dash’ earner for him. Four hours later we’re stuck in a go slow still on the outskirts of Lagos with much discussion of the best way around and the best place to drop me. I still have plenty of time so remain relaxed but as the go slow remains slow and unmoving I begin checking the map just to check how far I will from the airport when I am dropped. I remain confident until I do get dropped after 2pm at a taxi park and get a quote of 2500 Naira – how far away am I? 45 minutes driving, Madam. Hmm My last gasp at haggling for the last Naira I now have left and get driven to the airport in 15 minutes!!! My goodbye to Nigeria and I’m robbed by a taxi driver – I had to laugh at the incongruity of Nigeria and West Africa knowing I was leaving after 5 months. Lining up to check in, I chat to an expat pommie who is working here and married to a Nigerian and when I’m asked about a visa – visa? No visa needed for transit? “Madam, wait.” Ooh this could be a snag – I had just assumed that transit was ok. The pommie offers to ring his travel agent to see if they can help me out, whilst the official checks his officials’ book to soon tell me “ok, but you cannot leave the airport” – no problems. Check in, and the security check gets me a full body pat down. Max and I share a couple of beers as I get down to my last 1000 Naira and we’re on board and landing 45 minutes later in Accra. There are 3 of us transiting which is done so laxly, that I am left at in a check in queue while she escorts the other 2 to their queues. And that’s the last I see of her! lol

If you're happy and you know it!

The original libation

Ahh its a blokes world, ain't it?

In Air Namibia’s queue I meet a Church of the Latter Day Saints (Mormons to the rest of us) missionary from South Africa returning home after his 2 year stint saving souls in Ghana. Soon enough I hit the immigration line and tell them I’m transiting – no entry so no exit “where is your escort?” Gosh I get asked some good questions to which I never have the answers! He obligingly stamps my boarding pass and waves me through to the security where I get another full body pat down – must be new security measures introduced here? But twice in one day I’ve had the closest body contact with another human being in five months! Accra airport has wifi so the few hours pass quickly then we’re bussed out to the plane, up in the air and being fed a delicious dinner – salad, vegetables and some creamy, dreamy dessert with 2 glasses of red wine. I am now literally in heaven, whilst anticipating the Southern Africa in front of me with its affluent luxuries. Five hours later we land in Johannesburg (5am local time, 3am Ghana time) and transit for a few hours before taking off for Namibia. My seat neighbor is traveling on business from Johannesburg and when we near Windhoek I ask her about transport to town and how much a taxi might cost - she kindly offers me a lift as she is picking up a hire car at the airport. WOO HOO PEOPLE CAN BE SO KIND!!

Entering Namibia I get the standard (and free) 60 day entry permit and soon enough we’re in the car park where my new friend discovers the car is an automatic – she has never driven an automatic. I tell her it’s easy; you can drive it with a broken arm and a broken leg. She goes for it (on my encouragement she tells me later) and after a few hesitant starts we’re off, being directed by the GPS (where was it when we were getting lost in Guinea, I ask myself). I assure her the car won’t stall, her impulse to use the clutch will soon pass and she’ll wonder why she hasn’t driven an automatic every time. I get dropped right the door of Chameleon Backpackers with its formidable security that I am sure will become something I will adjust to, now I’ve arrived in Southern Africa.

FACT: Some Nigerian first or christian names are just that, so Christian! A few I have met: Mercy and her daughter Blessing, Godspower and Godknows were named in news reports and then there is Good Luck Jonathon, the Nigerian President.

FACT 2: Nigeria is one of only three oil producing countries in the world who do not have a sovereign wealth fund. This fund should manage Nigeria’s savings from their windfall oil production. Their current ‘Excess Crude Account’ contained more than US$20 billion when the late President Umaru Yar’Adua came to power in 2007 but by the end of 2010 it contained less than US$1 billion!!

UMUAHIA and BENIN CITY

9/10 MAY 2011
UMUAHIA and BENIN CITY
Rally driving through the countryside

My last view of the mighty Niger River

Did you remember the spare wheel?

Look, I'm not phat, just thick

My journey to Umuahia starts well enough, with a lovely prayer that everyone joins in on! I’m off to visit Nigeria’s National War Museum, which supposedly showcases the remains of the Biafran struggle for independence in the late 60’s. Now this is a war I remember in the international news because as a young catholic we were forever being encouraged to give to the starving Biafrans – and starving they were. Millions died in that independence struggle, from the war or the ensuing famine. Arriving in Umuahia, I get a trike to the museum, and start to head inside when the security guard directs me over to a women sitting at a women table under a shelter amongst the tanks on display outside. I ask him why and he seems very reluctant to tell me – just insisting I should “go over there”. I meet with a woman sitting back, chewing gum and chatting to her mate and kindly ignoring me. I indicate to the guard that she doesn’t seem to want to see me – when he comes over and yells at her. OK, she explains that its 100 Naira to visit the museum BUT because there is no power it will cost 2000 Naira to start the generator for lighting. I tell her it’s ok, I have a torch – “No, that is not allowed”. I am flabbergasted – this is the equivalent of $15 and is an absolute con. I try reasoning with her, tell her that I am really interested in this museum, have travelled especially to visit etc but she remains unmoved. Her mate tells me to wait – perhaps a group may turn up and I share with them, but Miss gum chewer says no, no group today. Then another bloke comes over and from the gist of his converstation, I gather he’s trying to get me a discount, but she remains unmoved. Alas so do I and leave without seeing the museum and thus ends my visit to Umuahia.
Yes, I feel very stubborn and silly about this, but I reckon that they purposely don’t run the lights etc just so they can charge to ‘run the generator’ and make a tidy profit on the side which I am not in the mood to fund today. On my walk back to the road I see plenty of kids about not at school and I ask my next trike driver why they are not at school – he says its school holidays, but I know school went back today. Not a good sign for this community, especially as the lorry park is crowded with kids working… Perhaps this why Biafra lost their war and quest for independence?
Not long to wait for the lorry (mini van) to fill and we’re off across the country side again to Initsha to make another connection to get to Benin City. All to the easy listening tunes of Christian music cds, to which lots of passengers Easy ride to the centre of town, I get befriended by a young woman who wants to walk with me to my hotel – no she has never head of it, I should get a taxi. I assure its only a few blocks and I can walk there. This town’s map is correct and there is the hotel, but I can’t shake my new friend – she’s coming in to make sure all is ok. Then she’s coming up to the room to make sure its ok, even to the point of checking the bathroom, the fan, the tv and aircon ‘for me’. I am not really sure why she is doing this; does she think there may be something in it for her or is she just being genuinely friendly and looking after me? I honestly still have no idea! These Nigerians are such a mixed bunch!

The photo that got me into trouble

OK, first thing Tuesday is get to the Airport to find Arik Air and to buy a ticket to Accra so I can catch my flight to Namibia tomorrow night. Line up in the queue, line up in the queue and line up some more whilst noticing that folk keep reassuring each other in the line about their own whereabouts – “I’m behind you, right?” before walking off to do something else. So I head to another window to find out if they take credit cards – NO. Any money changers here @ the airport? Yes, and I’m walked to an office, where the girl shakes her head and says the man is not here now. OK, this means I book the flight, head to town, change money head back to the airport to pay. OK, do they know how much my flight may be? Ask at the next window – which I do and the nice man there gives me a reservation number, owe 32,000 Naira but must return to the queue to get the paperwork required to make the payment!. Back to the line (to my original place, mind you), more chatting to my fellow queuers about where they’re going when a fight breaks out near the front of the line because someone is most unhappy with someone else’s opinion of their place in the line, which is most entertaining as it simmers away long after the yelling finishes. Soon enough I get to the front of the line – I get the paperwork and before heading back to town, I try the money changers again – no man there but the girl has bundles of cash in hand. Not a great rate but I am now so close to flying south I’m nearly excited. Pay at one window, provide the receipt at the next (this office has 3 windows) and BINGO I now have a confirmed seat to fly Lagos to Accra, Ghana to connect to the Air Namibia flight which will take me all the way to Windhoek, Namibia. One of the women I have talked to is waiting out front and offers me a lift back to town, which I accept (despite kidnap warnings) and I get driven straight to the Museum’s door. On entry I get told there is no power, and unlike Umauhai they suggest I return when the power is back on around lunchtime. Now this museum is located on the island of a large roundabout in the centre of town, with all of Benin City’s traffic driving around this it. To get off the island is to truly risk your life – your sightline (and the drivers) is diminished by the curve of the roundabout and the traffic is non-stop. I watch one couple cross and move to where the traffic veers off giving you only half of the main road to cross, although this does mean standing in the middle of the road awaiting another break, but at least you are standing where drivers have a good chance of seeing and avoiding you whilst you await a break. Mission accomplished I have a leisurely day to check out the working palace here, the Bronze Casters Street (UNESCO funded and rated) and risk my life trying to get back across to the museum. This time there is power and exhibits are fabulous – beautiful bronzed carvings of beautiful serene faces that are very distinctive. That night I have a beer at a car wash and get befriended by a group of young Nigerians – 2 of the men are driving very expensive cars and they are off to a nightclub. Photos are taken, one man tells me about his two brothers studying in Australia and I would love to ask them how their mummy and daddy fund such a lavish lifestyles. Alas next day I notice that the girls who were so interested in my photos have deleted all photos taken of myself with the men – very odd behaviour.

FACT: Sadly I read in one of the daily papers of a middle aged man arrested along with eight others for kidnapping and murdering a 12 year old boy, for a ritual purpose’. I have also heard that women can be chased out of communities for being witches. Hmmmm Another article detailed the sentencing of s msn to eight weeks imprisonment for stealing four bags of cement, which sounded a little harsh to me!

CALABAR, Nigeria

A very early start cause Blessing insisted that time would be needed to get to the Jibowi Bus station.  Blessing, Mercy and Doris waved me off at ABC buslines before heading off to church. After a VERY luxurious (for West Africa at least) trip east to Calabar, ABC made the 14 hours of travel bearable with room to move and air con. Stayed at Jahas Guest house in a HUGE room with a massive bathroom that included a bath– could I be their only guest? The electricity is on and off through the night and the rain seems to be setting in. Sunday I look for the nearby Drill Ranch, a fantastic setup trying to preserve the Pandrillus. http://www.pandrillus.org/projects/drill-ranch/

These gorgeous creatures are becoming rare and endangered in the wild not only because of habitat loss but also due to being hunted for bushmeat which is a particularly good earner if you’re poor and incredibly popular amongst the city folk that were on my buses. This place also has a few chimps here but they cannot be returned to the wild making their future a little uncertain. I spend a couple of hours here enjoying watching these beautiful animals when a couple of Spanish vollies turn up to organise a visit to the organisation’s Afi Mountain property and they kindly invite me to join them – its tempting but I think the road will be hard work with the rains, and in reality the Drills are very shy in the jungle making them hard to spot. Hats off to Pandrillus! Later in the day I visit the Museum in a beautiful old house, on the riverfront – used for the residence of the British Governor of Nigeria during colonial times. Plenty to see and I’m lucky to complete my visit with power staying on the whole time. This museum is nicely curated with lots of exhibits giving information on Nigeria’s history especially circumspect about the slave trade here, the circumstances leading to the British grab for colonial power and the lucrative trade in palm oil. For the colonialists living here though, this was the Darkest Africa of topi hats, agues and an early death if you didn’t watch your health or the natives.

I walk a few blocks looking for Cercopan, another organisation who are trying to rescue smaller chimps from the nearby forests. http://www.cercopan.org/

They currently have 6 different primate species, from two families of primates: the guenons, small, compact, long-tailed monkeys and mangabeys, more robust larger long tailed monkeys. They have only been going a few years and not as established as Drill Ranch but they also have a jungle camp where they are trying to release back to the wild.

They currently have 6 different primate species, from two families of primates: the guenons, small, compact, long-tailed monkeys and mangabeys, more robust larger long tailed monkeys. They have only been going a few years and not as established as Drill Ranch but they also have a jungle camp where they are trying to release back to the wild. Another curiousity here are the various monuments to a local hero, Mary Slessor, a feisty Aberdeen feminist lass who spent her life here as a missionary working amongst the ‘natives’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Slessor

Now time to tackle chores – find the bus station to buy a ticket to tomorrow’s destination, Umuahia, then back up the hill to try and find internet to try planning flights south. I head in to the fast food place across the road and lo & behold not only do they have doughnuts, there is internet! I get online and manage to buy a flight ticket Accra, Ghana to Windhoek, Namibia using a credit card but no such luck with the Arik Air’s flight Lagos to Accra – they want a local debit card. Hmm But they do have a branch in Benin City, where I’m headed after Umuahia so with a bit of luck I can get a ticket on Tuesday to fly Wednesday. Great meal and beer at the evening time bars that spring up each night in car parks. Choices here include shawarma and fresh ocean fish bbqed on the spot.

FACT: Nigerians have a manner of speaking that requires yelling with no polite niceties: walk past any store or market stall and they demand “what are you looking for?” or “Oyibo, what you want?” I take turns in ignoring them or actually answering “nothing” which bamboozles them – who walks around looking and not wanting to buy? Or if I actually do want something, it is far quicker for me to look about for what I want than it is to explain what I want then we eventually establish that they don’t have it but that they will look for it anyway. Very long winded when all I want to do is wander about.

LAGOS Living

4 -6 MAY 2011

LAGOS LIVING

I was asked last night if I would like to join the Leaders here, when they go to Mass – why not. SO an early start to make the 6am mass at a local church. I tell you what, my local catholic church would be happy with half as many folk at a Sunday mass as they had here for a mid week morning mass! The full kneel down, host on your tongue Communion and then more prayers afterwards led by a parishioner. By now it’s light and we walk back to Guide Centre for breakfast. Bimbo arrives early and we wait for Mercy and Blessing to arrive before heading off on today’s program.

 We head off in the Guides' Vocational van to visit the National Museum – being renovated and not so much to see there – no bronzes but the pottery is good if undated. Then we visit a gallery on the grounds but when we try to take a group photo together out the front, we’re quickly told “no photos, this is a private gallery” – who knew? Then we return back to Ikoyu to look for moneychangers near the closed Ikoyu Hotel. But it’s no longer closed and the money changers are a little sharp for us and when our driver suggests there is another reputable changer near the Office we head back and quickly accomplish that task. Back to Guide Centre for lunch and then head out again to visit a former Chief Commissioner whose husband has passed away last night. I didn’t really feel comfortable going along but everyone else thought it was the right thing to do. In lieu of flowers I give her a Sturt Desert Pea brooch (thank you Monica). Afterwards we battle traffic again back to Guide Centre. I would like to find the Australian High Commission listed on the LP Lagos map – but alas they are reluctant to let me walk and its back into the van again over to Victoria Island to find it has closed up shop and moved to Abuja 3 years ago. Good thing I didn’t walk. Back again to Guide Centre to relax and enjoy a really cold beer after dinner in front of the idiot box. But I am starting to feel a little cooped up and decide to shorten my stay and move on to Calabar on Saturday.

State Commissioners from other states who have been staying at Guide Centre for their National meetings, leave very early the next day and I persuade Bimbo and Blessing that I really do like to walk and I’m allowed out again but this time with Blessing for company. We walk north up Kingsway Rd searching for a few landmarks from my Lonely Planet Ikoyu map with no success and soon decide this map is not worth looking at. When we are walking back Blessing wants to call into a furniture store – I ask why, she says just to look. I think that perhaps she’s in the market for new furniture – we enter I get introduced, welcomed and we walk around. It soon dawns on me that Blessing has called in here to have a rest in the airconditioned store. I gather Nigerians are not big on walking here in Lagos, especially if you don’t have to. Granted it is a very polluted place due to the number of cars, trucks and bikes on the road, but there is whole other side to any city when you walk about including all the folk who don’t have a car or on the street trying to sell to the passing cars. There is a huge range of daily newspaper titles here easily supported by the huge population – I will try a different one each day. Back to Guide Centre where I am introduced at the Lagos State meeting, which Blessing has organised in at Guide Centre. They open with their National Anthem(today the Australian anthem is included too – thank you Bimbo), The World Song and the Guide Promise. Proceedings are not a lot different from ours with reports, training dates with lots of encouragement to attend. The Leaders attend in full uniform with varying interests in discussed subjects, including their upcoming National camp and centenary fabric (of which I now have 3 metres). I slip out from the meeting to buy a bus ticket for Saturday from the nearby shops but alas the girl ‘closed at 4pm’ so I’ll try again tomorrow. I feel a little trapped here as the women here don’t have any suggestions for sightseeing other than a nearby beach resort, which we never get to and they are definitely not keen on walking around anywhere. I asked about the Nigerian Contemporary Art Museum but no one seemed to know about it, even though I had an address. Ah well, that’s the trade off, I guess.

Next day I get that elusive bus ticket and wander about, again deciding that whoever mapped out Ikoyu for LP didn’t actually go there! I head back to Guide Centre but not a lot happening here today and no one seems too interested – I tried knocking on their door a couple of times, and even walking in, but sleeping is the order of the day – Tez would be right at home here. Eventually they rouse at lunchtime and we head off to the market – but I insist that I would much rather catch local transport rather than be driven – the traffic is so heavy it just doesn’t seem worth taking minivan for 3 people. We visit Jankara market and because I have mentioned that I’d like to get some Nigerian movies and this becomes our mission. I had checked out what was for sale locally and the pirated movies here are for local consumption on a VCD format with English subtitles. I’m after national released English language DVDs that don’t seem to be available here. Lagos has several markets on the island - one for food, one for clothing, one for live food, one for fabrics and all interspersed with plenty of chinese junk, people, cars, trucks and motorbikes. Busy, chaotic and very Nigerian – everyone is so friendly and I am accompanied by the never ending calls of Iyebo (white skin). Back to Guide Centre again, but it does give me a lot of time to work out a travel plan here in Nigeria along with trying to get south. I got a heads up on a flight option direct to Windhoek, Namibia from Accra on Wednesdays. I was thinking of staying till Saturday, but with a saving of $200 I think that if Calabar holds me then I’ll stay till the following Wednesday. Otherwise I’ll aim for next Wednesday – now to work out how to buy the ticket without using all my cash and no ATM or EFTPOS…

FACT: Hollywood and Bollywood meet NOLLYWOOD, the Nigerian film industry! Movies can be shot within a week on cheap budgets, typically A$20,000 going straight to DVD and VCD. Selling for around 1000 naira (A$1.50) a disc on the streets they are affordable and with an average circulation of 50,000 copies that’s a handsome return for the producers. Plots are clichéd and story lines include tales of voodoo, religious conflicts and economic plights. Comedies are really done well especially because of the typical West African facial expressions and vocal exclamations at misfortune or problematic incidents.

LAGOS with no dash

3 MAY 2011
NIGERIA – Country number 9 – NIGERIA
Travel to LAGOS & not pay dash
After an early start I’m in the border town of Krake by 8am and look for breakfast - I nearly settle for my usual fav, a baguette with avocado but the woman has a tad too many flies hovering over her wares with no lids in sight so I keep walking quite a way to find a ‘cafeteria’ – someone making omelettes with bread and tea and coffee. From there it’s only a short walk to the frontier and let the fun begin. No worries getting out of Benin (and neither should there be after my marathon run up to the northern frontier for the entry stamp). Entering Nigeria with my rare and expensive visa, starts a round of pondering, leafing through my passport, questioning my occupation, my whereabouts in Lagos, how long will I stay, where did I get my Nigerian visa and then when all questions are answered quietly and satisfactorily he then signals that we should now cross the road to another building to ‘show my boss’. Over we go and my interrogator disappears into an office to reappear a few minutes later with another chap in uniform who says to me “no problem” – how I love those 2 words from officialdom. Back across the road, I get to fill in more paperwork and as there is no more to hold me up the ‘official’ allows me to pass. But he knows what awaits me and I tell you, it’s a good thing I am actively practising patience now because their system of graft and corruption at this border is appalling. Next the Yellow Fever vaccination check – yes, all is in order just as it has been for all the other West African countries I’ve visited. Then as I walk through another barrier – show me your passport, more pondering, leafing though and vague questioning and then I can pass. Onto the next bloke in a white coat who wants to see my vaccination card – alas he finds all is not in order: “you don’t have the meningitis and cholera, why not?” Now we both know that these are neither compulsory nor required jabs for Nigeria but OK, I point out my meningitis ACDT and tell him that that is a combined meningitis and cholera vaccination (NOT). He doesn’t really buy it but I keep insisting that it’s available in my country; it’s new, its better. OK he’s persuaded (or does he see more lucrative suckers coming up?) and I’m allowed through to the voracious taxi drivers to find a car to Lagos. A few offers of a private taxi, easily dismissed then I find a share taxi “already with two passengers, you sit inside, more people come”. Within a ½ hour we’re on our way but this highway to Lagos is home to interminable road blocks all staging posts of corrupt cops and officials. By the sixth luggage check, our driver is starting to get upset but by the tenth roadblock, we get a particularly bored (and stupid) health official. One look at me and it’s a “show me your yellow card. Step out of the car”. When I question him as to what the problem may be, he doesn’t want to discuss it in front of the other passengers – we have to walk over to his little hut. He reads and rereads my yellow card and wants to know why I am missing the yellow fever vaccination – I turn the card over and show him the notation. OK, next up is “you are missing cholera – why don’t you have cholera”. I try the combined vaccination tack but he is not buying that story (and I mentally make notes to sign that bloody line myself tonight). We go backwards and forwards and I am very patient but when the taxi driver comes over ranting at the bloke about wasting time, he gets sent off with a flea in his ear. Nobody is happy but this ‘official’ is not moving. Soon we are joined by another chap in a uniform of sorts who seems to know a thing or two, especially when I appeal to him with “I don’t understand what the problem is?” He quietly mentions that a donation or a gift would help and I immediately reply “I don’t understand, everything is in order here”. I DO NOT want to have to give in to a bribe or paying dash to these pricks – they must be the bane of all who travel this road between Benin and Lagos. Eventually the uniformed chap indicates to the stupid one he should return my card and as soon as it’s back in my hand I nearly run to the taxi and we’re off again.

Next fun to be had is at my Lagos destination, a lorry park called Mile Two. This place is sprawled across a highway that is under construction. I ask directions and try to understand the instructions given – go across the road (yes, except there are road making equipment going backwards and forwards making the road there), look in front of MTC. Eventually I get through both sides of the highway and try listening to the calls of the touts. Nothing sounds vaguely familiar so I ask around to be told ‘Over there’. Then ask again, go that way. Hmmm. Try to buy water but don’t have small enough change in my new Nigerian Naira. Soon the girl returns to give me 2 sachets, I tell her I still don’t have change – she says that ‘it is a gift” and motions towards another lorry and a couple of men are indicating that they want me to take the water – how kind and thoughtful of them. I cheer up and try some more, get pointed to a lorry ready to leave, and I try clarifying my destination, now asking for Ikoyi, so then get pointed to another lorry nearby. I go for this one, and when we’re moving show the man next to me my map and ask if the van will go to Alowolo Rd – NO. But after much discussion between a few others, they work out a way how I can get there and organise with the driver that I am dropped at the Law Courts. They tell me to get an okada the rest of the way. I ask a couple of drivers but they kindly explain that they can’t go over the bridge (I had previously heard this is an issue) and I ask them if I can walk – yes. So off I go up and over the Faloma Bridge thinking I couldn’t draw any more attention to myself up here, especially with a pack on my back, when all my advice for travelling in Nigeria was to keep as low a profile as possible! lol Anyway, I make it up and over the Bridge only get a high quote from another okada. I ask him which way and start walking that way. I’m still looking for street signs, when I notice an AP petrol station – and my directions were the AP bus station. YES, I’m on the right road, the right corner and the bloke I ask recognises the trefoil on my shirt and asks me am I “looking for the Girl Guides – they are right up the road”. AND they are. I cannot believe I have fluked making my way all the way through Lagos. Gilr Guides Nigeria have a 3 storey building and I walk into the Guide Shop first to be welcomed and kindly accompanied upstairs to the offices by Bimbo. An air con room, cold drinks, lots of introductions and a wonderful Girl Guide welcome. I meet Eno James and am shown to my accommodation – its fab. On the top floor, great views, very comfy with a kitchen and promised cook, lounge room, dining room etc. I am handed a lunch and left to ‘freshen up’. I do look a fright after my haul through town but soon enough I’m presentable and get a tour through the building receiving welcoming hugs from everyone. I visit the Guide Shop again to buy badges, postcards and I weaken and purchase some vibrant cloth produced especially for their upcoming centenary. Back upstairs I meet a few National advisors who have flown in for the meetings over the next few days, which is another reason why I was asked to come today to enable us all to meet here in town. But I do get a contact number from the Calabar commissioner and promise to call her next week when I visit, which I am now pretty decided to do.
I am asked what I would like my program to be for the next few days and I realise they are going to treat me to full board and entertain me while I am here. I feel really embarrassed about this, and try to downplay my stay, but to no avail –I am their guest and they plan this & that and meeting leaders etc. I feel so honoured and lucky to get such a charmed and lucky introduction to Lagos, Nigeria! But the downside will be no freedom to wander and I certainly don’t think I will find anyone here to accompany me to the rocking nightclubs, which I so long to go to. I walk Bimbo to her bus stop on Alowola Rd and tell them I’m going for walk – to buy beer but I don’t tell them that. I find The Jazzhole, a fantastic book/music shop/café. After months of French, the sight of interesting book titles nearly tempts me but for their prices, which are no cheaper than home so not worth carting around. But it is so much fun browsing.

FACT: The funniest sight today would have to be a van that had sideswiped a truck, which has then driven into one of the wooden ‘police posts’. I would have loved to have seen the look on their ‘official police’ faces as they would have had to shift themselves for a reason other than trying to extract cash from their countrymen!

Porto Novo, BENIN

30 APRIL – 2 MAY 2011

PORTO NOVO

This is Benin’s capital – hard to believe as it seems the opposite of Cotonou with museums, quiet, leafy streets and Centre Songhai where I’m staying. Songhai (www.songhai.org) was established back in 1985, using principles of sustainable development utilising local resources, traditional and modern techniques and recycling and absolutely unique to anything I’ve seen in my travels so far here in West Africa! Songhai provides research, teaching and production in sustainable farming along with a very popular boutique that is swamped every morning with folk wanting to buy their eggs, fish, vegetable and fruit produce. Their motto is Africa Stands Up and I’d have to second that. The accommodation is great with the guesthouses set amongst the gardens – the only drawback being the bloody mosquitos that could carry me off if I was any lighter! Honestly I was even bitten through my clothing!! There is a marquee bar and a lovely restaurant here also well patronised by locals and visitors alike, staff are helpful and management make an effort to employ and inform people from all over West Africa.

Church exterior decorations

Even the Sufis are represented here

Advocating tolerance

Coat of Arms

An LP house and those covers are Fela Kuti LPs

Songhai Systeme Integre

Songhai Model

Palm oil nuts

Sell this to the WORLD

BRAVO SONGHAI

I get to meet many of Songhai’s visitors whilst staying here and they come from all over; a female mechanic from Chad, a young student from France, a Mexican religious sister working in Chad (here to learn how to make fruit juice!) and some adult Scouts from Kano, Nigeria here to learn how to establish a likewise establishment for their youth back home who are experiencing 95% unemployment after leaving school.

Porto Novo has three museums – one privately owned, Musee Da Silva that seems to be an odd collection of junk ranging from typewriters to record players to photocopied portraits of African politicians, including Benin’s presidents through the years. The next museum, Musee Ethnographique is thematically organised around birth, life and death promoting the normality of voodoo religion in societies here. The last museum, Musee Honme is a Dahomey Palace, now empty but the guide is very animated as he leads me around the bare rooms. Here in Porto Novo there is even a public jardin: a gorgeous park filled with huge tree, monkeys and a great restaurant. All in all a very relaxing capital city! But soon enough it’s onwards and eastwards towards Nigeria. I talk to every 2^nd Nigerian I meet here trying to find out transport options from here to Lagos. All agree that the 80km will probably take around 4 hours due to ‘heavy traffic’.

FACT: I provide unlimited amusement for small children here – upon sighting me (or any other foreigner) they launch into a rhyme that seems to go: Yovo bonjour, yovo bonsoir, yovo merci, yovo au revior. Always accompanied by much laughter it is obviously light hearted but after a few days, it begins to wear a little thin being addressed by the colour of my skin – reverse racism?

Cotonou, BENIN

25 – 29 APRIL 2011
COTONOU, cottonyou

Wild fabrics

 Another easy trip, only 80kms to Cotonou and get dropped in town to engage a zem to take me to the Hotel Le Crillon – no its not the Hotel Mary of Saints and no, its not the Hotel Amities – third time lucky the zem driver finds the Hotel Le Crillon. Usual discussions follow regarding costs re time and distance travelled.. Hotel Le Crillion is an odd sort of a place with a lot of blokes hanging about but the room is good for the price and I discover it has a great location right in the heart of town. Nothing much open today cause Easter Monday is a public holiday here, but there is a big rain storm this afternoon, definitely cooling things down for a few hours. I find a Lebanese Boucharie a few doors down that is doing huge trade in great shawarmas which are the best I’ve had here in Africa; pepper sauce, a few chips, a minced beef kebab and salad all wrapped up in flat bread and toasted. Mmm But I’m having trouble finding an alternative to the ‘nightclubs’ in this part of town to buy a beer. Rather odd really, but determination and traipsing win out and I discover a trove of them

Religious themed fabrics

hidden in back streets. Get a quote for a flight from Lagos to Namibia – the equivalent of US$900 aarrgghh to be paid in CFA cash because credit cards are not popular here, but I don’t think I have too much choice. Lagos is certainly the busiest airport around abouts and no one flies direct to Namibia. I do the sums and compare the next 5 country’s visa costs along with accompanied difficulties and I think it may worth skipping them to take to the skies heading towards Southern Africa. Another time perhaps when Angola, Congo et al are more friendly..

Even though I could have exited by visa expiry date, Nigeria Girl Guides suggested visiting 3 May onwards – a full week after the last elections. Thankfully all seems to have gone reasonably well there with their elections with only 10 deaths. So I apply for a visa extension and it eventually takes me four days to get it – I think my passport spent a lot of time sitting about on a desk due to its Visa D’Pays. Friday I pick up my passport and then telephone Eno James

Fabulous VLISCO

to confirm my Lagos arrival date as 3 May.
Visiting Cotonou’s sprawling Dantokpa market, I find the moneychangers to buy Nigerian Naira – it has been a long time since I’ve dealt with moneychangers on the street and the Nigerians’ reputations precede them but I’m more comfortable counting my notes with them in the open during the day here than in Lagos until I get the find my feet there. Either they were very smooth or I didn’t get ripped off – yah!
I had initially met up with Rama Adjoni, Benin’s Girl Guide Youth Advisor and she arranged a meeting with Benin Guides coordinator, Rita Laceye on Friday evening at Rita’s home. After a crazy zem ride through Cotonou’s peak hour traffic, we arrive and Rita seems a little reserved. They are circumspect about their Association and I understand that they have an upcoming AGM that may sort some problems out. I present my ‘petite cadeau’ along with my WAGGGS card for its souvenir stamp and this seems to soften the mood, along with taking some photos for Facebook! On talking to Rama she tells me she has a full weekend of Guiding coming up; providing training on Saturday and a recruitment promotion on Sunday.
FACT: A ZEM is shortened slang for zemi-john, scooter taxis that are the fastest and most convenient way of getting about here in Benin. Unfortunately they are also the most dangerous, as a lot of drivers ride like crazy men and helmets are usually unheard off, along with the pillion passenger (me) sans protective clothing of any kind. However they do seem very organised with various coloured vests in different towns, all with a registered number on the back.

Grand POPO, Benin

23/24 APRIL 2011

GRAND POPO

Easy trip around the lake via to arrive in Grand Popo (the big poo?). I walk to the Lion bar where all rooms

Peace & Love man, at the Lion Bar

are full but they have good tents pitched on the edge of the beach. Fantastic – great sea breeze all night and leaving only the screen zipped up giving a great view across the waters to watch the lightening miles away each night. Cheaper beer to be had a 5 minute walk up the road, along with local pepper soup for a good

Camping @ The Grand Popo

dinner. Back to the Lion Bar for a night of DJ reggae and the rastas are having a fine time, mon! Still there is plenty of good company about and interesting folk to chat too. Soon enough I discover that after those couple of Lion cocktails and many beers it’s nearly 1.30am! Thankfully those coconut cocktails had plenty of hydration to combat any hangovers – what a treat! Easter Sunday I head out for day trip to Ouidah, only 42 kms west of Popo. Ouidah’s history is central to the fact that it had the only port in Benin until 1908. Thus it was here that at least 12 million captured africans were enslaved, sold and deported to the Americas. There is another Point of No Return (along with the requisite point of return nearby) at the end of a 4km road to the beach, lined with fetishes and artistic monuments such as the Monument of Repentance and the Tree of Forgetfulness where it is said the enslaved were forced to circle a tree to forget the land they were leaving. The town’s Musee Historique is housed in a Portuguese fort with lots of photos linking the Brazilian and Caribbean cultures with Benin’s ancient traditions. I also visit Maison de la Memoire de Ouidah, a lovely old house with a fabulous exhibition about African women, celebrating their history, roles, cultures and customs using art, photography, quotes and antique artifacts. During my wanderings about town I pass a compound where there is much activity and drumming happening. I hand about the doorway and spy real, live Fetish (traditional) priests costumed to the hilt providing ceremonies for the compound’s residents and relations who are also beautifully dressed often with identical fabrics sewn into different designs to signify the different family lines. I get invited in to watch and each time one of the priests spots me they approach to solicit a donation. After 3 priests I’m all out of small change which is a tad embarrassing as they turn away empty handed, probably laying curses on me.

A real live fetish priest

Easter Sunday tipple

I notice each priest has an escort with a stick – their role seems to be guiding the priests way, smoothing and adjusting their costumes as they sit or stand, all without making any physical contact then bobbing down nearby awaiting the priests next move. I am befriended by a couple of young guys who immediately bring out the libation – a huge bottle of whisky filled with locally made schnapps. Its only 11am and I always try to be polite and partake but after two shots I begin to doubt my ability to return to Grand Popo today if I continue drinking so I slow down and try to beg off much to their disappointment. With the drumming musicians all now asking for a share of libations the bottle is soon emptied and then beers are called for – now I can partake again! lol This event will go on all day accompanied by more drinking so eventually I take my leave to explore some more of Ouidah. But to really see the fetish customs being practised locally was amazing along with the fetish shrines around in the compound complete with bones and charms.

I have left the thrill of visiting the Temple des Pythons till last and after being shown around the yard with ceremonies and beliefs explained, a room is opened that is filled with hundreds of napping pythons lying about the floor. I did not venture further than the doorway and it was very creepy, especially when the guide insisted on draping one around my neck, telling me in french that it has no teeth – I would have loved to ask if the pythons don’t have teeth or do they remove them? Lol Alas my french just doesn’t extend that far.

Mother of all Pythons

Time to head home and that is exactly what everyone else is thinking this Easter Sunday cause all cars passing through Ouidah are full and it takes nearly an hour before I get a car back to Popo. Back to the beach, stars and tent for another lovely night, sans cocktails!

If you're happy and you know it, hug your friend

FACT: Angelique Kidjo was born here Ouidah, Benin but now resides in New York – can’t say I really blame her for that! Check out www.kidjo.com