Have we made an error?

We are now in Abuja, capital of Nigeria, and it has been a long hard drive.  The reason we have come here is to meet up with Ademola (Sam) who owns 3 balloons and we hoped he would be able to help us to fly in Nigeria rather than risking it on our own in a small country area. Several times on the journey we asked ourselves if we should turn back.  However, today that has changed and I will explain later on.

When I last made a post we were in Benin at Grand Popo parked on the edge of a beautiful beach which I had hoped to walk along in the morning. Unfortunately we needed to make an early start to reach Cotonou for applying for the DRC visas and as soon as it was light we exited the gates. The swimming pool looked very inviting and the sound of the surf was beckoning, but it’s really exciting to be out on the road at early light as villages come to life.  Most people ‘live’ outside and there are so many interesting things to see as we drive by:  cooking fires smoking; women pounding millet or cassava; pigs snuffling around the rubbish tips; goats everywhere; guinea fowl, chickens and turkeys in the road; children on their way to school, some carrying bags far too big for them; motorbikes weaving between the traffic and, something new in Benin: petrol sold at the side of the road in big round glass demijohns with the sun gleaming through them and reflecting overhead vegetation so that they looked like magical containers.

We drove at first through areas of lagoons with stilt villages, fishermen in dugout canoes and fishtraps in the water. Apparently the fishermen stick tree branches in the mud at the bottom and as the leaves rot the fish are attracted to eat them and it makes for easy catching. The villages had amazing names. My favourite 2 were”Houndjehoundji” and “Gogotinkpon”! Through the ‘Historic City of Ouidah’ with its Sacred Forest, Python Temple(a very strong animist/Voodoo area) and Walk of No Return where the Portuguese shipped slaves to South America, particularly Brazil.

The traffic going into Cotonou was manic as most African cities, but they did have defined lanes for motos which kept the hundreds of motorbikes separate from the trucks and cars, except at junctions where it was a free for all and quite frightening for me. Chris kept his finger on our loud airhorn, much to the consternation of everyone around us, waving their fingers and arms at us and shouting. Of course they aim it all at me as I am sitting in what should be the driver’s seat! We found the DRC Chancellerie tucked away in a back dirt street with our IOverlander lat/long position and applied for our visas in good time. DRC win the prize for having the most charming, efficient and helpful staff in all the Embassies we have been to. We had our photos taken for the biometric visa by a lovely lady, who made sure that my shirt sat properly on my shoulders and my necklace was straight, and were told to return for our passports at 4pm. We returned to the Enterprise parked in the street to eat our breakfast cereal and a young voice from outside called out “Are you English? Because I am too”. It was Ryan, whose Dad owned the nearby restaurant and pub, the “Livingstone Snack Bar &  Pizzeria”. Dad, a Geordie, soon appeared and offered us water for the Enterprise tank and Wifi. We had no need for the water, and unfortunately the Wifi was weak from where we were parked outside their gate. On offer at the pub was draught beer, but we decided that fruitjuice was more appropriate as we would be driving shortly. At 2pm the man from the Chancellerie appeared at our table and said that we could collect our passports and visas immediately. Without ado we set off straight afterwards.  

The closest border to Nigeria is not far along the coast from Porto Novo to Lagos, but we had been advised not to use that one as it would be very busy and expensive in handlers’ fees. The Oasis Overland Truck always uses a border further north near Kétou, so we decided to do this too. It was a picturesque drive once we were through the capital of Benin, Porto Novo, situated on Lake Nokoué. While we were in Lomé I had wanted to buy more of the wax printed cotton fabric which comes in 12 pièce (yard) lengths, which is the quantity required for a whole outfit: skirt, top and headscarf. In the next town outside Porto Novo we came across a market and Chris found a shop selling fabric. A lady with a large bowl of dried fish on her head had to exit for us to enter because the space was so small but the friendly lady shopkeeper had a huge range of patterns and colours. We ended up buying another 3 x 12 yards and Chris managed to barter the total down, much to the hilarity of the assistants.

Driving onwards we passed through a variety of scenery, mainly agricultural and forests until we climbed up on to a plateau and were in to cotton country. The white cotton bolls littered the roadsides as most had already been picked. Immense truckloads of cotton under canvas sheets were parked in a roadside yard. Next was a huge Lafarge cement works, complete with a company workers’ village and big school. An hour before sunset we reached the town of Kétou where there is the Royal Palace (Oba Oyeguin), a very impressive old building with many turrets. We had intended bush camping, but as we were very hot and tired we decided to have a room at the Résidence Céleste Hotel on the edge of town, which had air-conditioned rooms and good facilities. For me, a shower and hair wash twice in 2 days was a luxury. We also ‘stole’ some of their electricity to keep the A/C working in the Enterprise to have a cooler start to the next day.

Before retiring to bed we were in need of diesel as we had not seen a filling station since arriving in Benin. Or rather there were filling stations but none had any fuel. All petrol was sold along the road in bottles and demijohns and diesel from yellow cans. We drove round the town asking where there was a filling station, much to people’s amusement. We were directed to the only one in town, but of course it was closed and empty. Chris resorted to buying from some plastic cans, a little concerned as to the quality/cleanliness of the fuel. The lady who sold it splashed it everywhere while filling our tank, including all over Chris. It was fortunate we had a hotel room with shower to wash both Chris and all his clothes & sandals.

The next morning we set off shortly before 7am when it was light, but both our satnavs were not working correctly (missing data) and we drove twice around the town to find the way to the border. In the end we had to ask. The Nigerian border was only a few miles down the road in a small town called Illara-Kanga. We called in at the Immigration Office to fill out forms and get our passports stamped by a man with an AK-47 rifle slung over his shoulder, making it hard for him to write. A young man then offered to show us the way to Nigeria which was useful as there were several roads out of town and no border posts. He came in the Enterprise for a mile or so until we reached the good road surface. It did actually have a tarred surface but was full of potholes, as was Abeokuta 86 km away, the first big town in Nigeria.

We had good advice about all the police, military, quarantine, SSSI (state security – to me that means Site of Special Scientific Interest!) stops in Nigeria. We knocked those off one by one without parting with any money. That’s why they are there, all asking for a ‘pourboir’ or a gift of some kind. Most were very pleasant and we left them with a laugh. The usual ‘can I buy your hat’ theme works most times. Chris told one police officer he could have a kiss from me, but he refused!! Said he would rather have something to eat! We have had many many stops in Nigeria, more than any other country and some are rather fun. The fact they speak English is a help when Chris is joking with them. Most think I am the driver to begin with as I am sitting in the left hand seat. One even asked to see my driving licence, even though he acknowledged that ‘he’ was the driver. Yesterday though we were caught by a Road Tax Task Force who stopped us driving on with a long stick full of nails. There was no reasoning with them that we pay British road tax. They were not stopping any other vehicles. We parked and ate breakfast to see if they would get fed up with us being there, but Chris gave them “all the money he had”:  a 5 euro note, and they had to be satisfied with that.

There are some with very nice red bush hats worn by the State Traffic Patrol and others wearing full flak helmets and visors. I would love to take photos of them but I have learned my lesson: while at the Togolese-Benin border I had taken a couple of photos of the picturesque border crossing without thinking. I would have got away with it but I hadn’t noticed the NO PHOTOS sign when I spotted a nearby tree full of noisy little yellow weaver birds and their nests. I innocently pointed the camera out the window (lens cover still on) to photo the birds just as Chris was returning with a policeman, who thought I was taking a photo of him. The camera was confiscated and the big boss was called. Chris had to show them the photos I had already taken and delete any which included the border post.

Another thing the ‘stoppers’ demand is to look inside the vehicle. If they are not belligerent we allow them to do so. Yesterday one said to me “Oh, it’s like a train, but not a train”. There are a lot of amusing signs along the roads such as “Cow Seller – buy your cow here”, “The Lord’s Chosen – Charismatic Rivival Industries Ltd.”, “Headstone: Ministry of Endtime” (Funeral Directors?)

In Abeokuta we bought a local SIM card for a spare phone to use as a ‘hotspot’ for internet. That is what I am using now. On Chris’s application for the SIM he lives in Ghana Road, Abeokuta and is a black man! The camera would not take a photo of a white face and another customer offered to have his photo taken and gave his fingerprints, so Chris has a new identity and he is black!

Next instalment to follow hopefully tomorrow but I need to post this before the laptop battery dies.