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

Abomey & Dahomeys

21/22 APRIL 2011

ABHOMEY

After my long day travelling yesterday I’m happy to make a quick trip (yes on a boody zem, again) to Abomey for a few days rest up. This was the Dahomey Kingdom’s capital and my word what a bloodthirsty lot they were! These were the Africans that were often depicted as ‘savages’ by colonial powers who often struggled to subdue them. Kings thrones were mounted on skulls, enemies blood used to bind the sand that built their temples and they were very fierce and feared slave traders. Their quest for more power and human sacrifices by conquering neighbouring kingdoms was legendary for over 300 years. Now only many ruins remain of the 12 palaces that each reigning king in turn, built for themselves with several restored by UNESCO. Two house a museum with guides telling tales of female Amazon armies, kings with 200 wives and moats circling Abomhey 42km around and 60m deep. The Dahomey descendants are very proud of their heritage and as such wear distinctive floppy hats in a style reminiscent of a high beret. All in all not a bad place to visit for a couple of days as their history is really so legendary. Through the Lonely Planet forum I catch up with Mark again and get my 15k cfa back but very low on satisfaction as he maintains he cancelled the trip because Joseph was not an accredited guide. Little thought was given to the person he had negotiated the trip with – bugger. hmmm

FACT: Benin embraced a revolution and was declared a Marxist- Leninist state n 13 November 1972, by the President, much to the surprise of the people that day. A seemingly rhetoric revolution, Marxism was ditched in 1989 after many years of economic shambles, widespread unemployment and rising inflation.

Pendjar & bust

19/20 April
Benin Frontier, Pendjari and Waterfalls

Big day today – pack up and get a zem to the gare routiere where I find a taxi brouse heading up to Tanguieta, that is filling quickly. Soon enough we’re off over some hills for an hour or so before arriving in the sleepy town around 8.30am. My pack is transferred to an empty taxi brouse that is going to Porga and I wait and wait until I am approached by a zem driver offering to take me to the border – it’s a long way, 55kms each way but could be doable if I leave my pack at the NP office. When I enquire of the Porga taxi brouse when they may be leaving they tell me 1pm – so another hour after that to get to Porga and then try for transport back AND I still want to get to the falls? No way so I go for the zem. Much tussle as the rider tries to reclaim my pack because the taxi doesn’t want to lose a passenger and they are pissed off with the zem drivers. But we succeed and then head to the National Park office where I meet a german vollie who is happy to help out and allow me to leave my pack in their offices. Then it’s off on the zem and we go and go and go – 1 ½ hours to Porga for a 10 minute conversation, one demand for 5ooo cfa that I manage to rebuff and then I’m stamped into Benin. A quick show of my ‘yellow card’ (yellow fever vaccination) to a chap in a white coat and I’m done with the frontier. The zem rider is keen to rest at Porga, but there is nothing there and I still have a long way to go today so reluctantly we head off again south back to Tanguieta, arriving around 2pm. I get my pack back and then find another zem rider to take me out to the falls. But unfortunately he is not too interested in where I want to go, just the fare and takes me to a hotel just out of town. No, Relais du Taningou so he tries another hotel. By now I’ve gathered I’ve got a dud zem when he starts asking me the hotel name again. When he finally understands where I want to go, he is shocked and I realise he is really quite young and probably not quite up to the haul out to the falls. I pay him off and find another zem who understands where I want to go – and wow what a ride that was! Another 35kms on a pretty bad dirt road on top of the 110kms I’ve already had in the heat of the day – I kept promising myself that I only had to do this road one way on the bike – tomorrow I’d be in a 4wd and would lay across the back seat and sleep all the way back to Nati!

I am so relieved when we finally get to Taningou around 4pm, check out my hut and literally throw on my bathers for a 5 min walk to the first part of the falls – I’m in heaven at last, submerged in lovely fast running fresh water, cooling off, relaxing and eating a lovely ripe mango (yes, food again) I’d been saving. No phone signal at the falls, so I head down the hill and try to contact Joseph to confirm where I am to be picked up tomorrow. I sms but don’t get a reply so when a couple come down from the falls I borrow their ph and ring him – to be greeted by a torrent of french! As the loudspeaker is on, the girl interprets for me; he and Mark have argued and the trip is off. I plead with him to let Mark know where I am, as I assume that Mark must have another guide planned and then the signal drops out. Surely this traveller wouldn’t leave me stranded here? I have hope…. After dinner at the Relais there is power for a few hours for the fans till late at night. Then silence reigns supreme with a starry, starry night.
Alas the next morning my hopes are dashed – no 4wd arrives for me. I get several offers: the swiss guys are camping for 2 nights in the park for which I don’t have enough time – it will be difficult to make my own way out after one night and one benonoise guy is visiting his brother at the park hotel and offers me a lift in – but that still doesn’t get me a 4wd to get around the park. Sadly all transport leaves the Relais, so I pack up and walk down the hill to await any kind of transport to head back to Tangieuta and Nati. Unfortunately this road only leads to one place – the national park - meaning passing 4wds are all on their way into the park, but after an hour or so a local guy turns up and agrees to take me to Tangieuta – but first he has to change his pantaloons. 1 hour later he turns back up, refreshed after his shower and change of clothes – lucky him – and I head back out on that shocking road on the back of a zem, cursing Mark/londonroads. Not only did he leave me stranded, but he also has 15k cfa that I gave for half the petrol for the trip. I am feeling very stupid, ripped off and pissed off at getting SO CLOSE to Pendjari National Park (billed as West Africa’s par excellence wildlife park) at the best time of year for spotting animals and I don’t get there! AARRGGHHHHHH
Eventually I get to Tangieuta, then onto Nati, then onto Djougou where we wait for the car to fill and finally get away by 4pm leaving a lot of the driving at night, which I hate. Still I make it alive and unscathed to Bohicon where I stay the night at an odd place – they are projecting a movie on their outside wall and customers are dining and drinking at tables on the other side of the road watching the movie! The waitresses get to play chicken with the traffic as they ferry food and drink to the tables!
FACT: Benin is 700km long and 120km across in the south widening to 300km in the north. This makes it twice the size of neighbouring Togo. It has a population of nearly 9 million in 2009 with a life expectancy of 50 yrs.

BENIN and Natitingou

18 April 2011
BENIN – Country number 8 – BENIN
Natitingou

Auberge le Vieux Cavalier has no water this morning, but on asking they start the pump and all is ok. Today I want to contact ‘LondonRoads’ who responded to my LP forum post looking for others to join up to visit Pendjari National Park – I can only hope to be more successful than I was in Mole, Ghana at seeing animals here in West Africa. I leave a message at his hotel to meet for lunch and head off to the market to find a box for posting and the requisite wide scotch tape to bind the whole thing together. Back at the post office a lovely Beninoise woman helps me through the process of posting yet another parcel home – albeit without scales that work and no forms?? I do hope that package makes it home. When I was at the market, there were trays of something I had never seen before – CHEESE! It’s homemade cow’s milk cheese known as wagassi and coated in a red (pimento?) powder. When I had a meal in Natitingou I was offered fromage with my riz and sauce – I thought I misheard what she was offering and declined but after seeing so much for sale at the market I gather it could be a ‘northern’ specialty.
I call into the restaurant for lunch and get chatting with a couple of american girls who have been in Ghana for a conference on autism and now making quick travel through Togo & Benin. They were impressed with the conference and I relate my tales of the orphanage and Codhani visits. Soon enough Mark turns up, but won’t join us for lunch because he eats at the bus stands to save money. The americans leave and Mark & I talk about what our expectations may be. He wants seats on the roof of the car for the better view and I want a day trip with a side trip to Porga for my entry stamp. With this in mind we try Eco Benin, who are based at a flash hotel where a woman assures us that all is possible and she will ring the guide to come and meet us in one hour. We head to the bar and chat over a beer before waking the woman to ensure the guide will meet with us. Eventually he turns up and is the guide who Mark has been warned against. We head to Hotel Tata Somba and they refer another guide to us – Joseph. Now Joseph strikes me as honest – no he is sure a side trip to Porga would not be possible in one day. His pricing is ok and we take our leave to think about it. Over Mark’s dinner we chat again and ring Joseph to confirm that I will make a trip to Porga tomorrow to continue on to Relais Du Tanangou to sleep, where Joseph & Mark will pick me up early Wednesday to continue on to the park for the day. Later that night I meet up with three swiss who are also travelling to the falls and onto Pendjari the next day. I am welcome to join them, thank you but they also give me a name of Le Hotel Crillon in Cotonou.

FACT: Hunting is big business around Pendjari – known as cynegetic tourism. There is a hunting lodge just outside the park and we meet 4 frenchies who are going to stay 2 weeks hunting there! Heavens knows what they are hunting. I am afraid that this is a sport that I struggle to understand, unless hunting for food which I am sure was not their plan. According to the park figures, said cynegetic tourism contributes 66% revenue compared to 34% from wildlife observation tourism! hmmm