Gael warning in Liberia

[simondippenhall]

@simondippenhall
Some of my Dutch friends do this every year, to support a school in the Gambia.
They load up a vehicle with school and medical supplies and drive it down. They leave the vehicle and fly home

So far they have bought a plot of land and built a new school building and a medical clinic

Sounds like a good cause. One of the rallyists was a guy of around my age, I guess, on an old BMW 650 or 700. Said he didn’t have any navigation so just followed the cars…must have been a slow and dusty trip for him and he commented how difficult the cars found the piste to Diama (which chimes with my experience last year…it was very rutted and torn up from rainy season that a 2 wheeler was at a distinct advantage….

 

[Oldrat]

Following with interest Simon.

Stay safe

 

[Posh Pete]

So I headed to bed around 9 and slept uninterrupted for 9 hours 12 minutes …since my nearest bathroom is a walk away in the compound I complimented my bladder on its fine performance.

That could well be the achievement of the trip! Keep it coming Simon and safe travels.

 

[Northern jock]

My dad had malaria, contracted in Libya.
It was mostly no problem but I do remember him being quite ill during a “bout”.

As has been said best approach is not to get bitten but not always easy!


Luckily mossies seem not to like me but if I am bitten I don’t react much so don’t know

I caught it 30 years ago in Botswana/Zim area and can confirm that it’s not a lot of fun.

Trip looks like it’s going to be a cracker

 

[jasp]

Hooked and following....
Made me laugh with ‘self care for septuagenarians ‘ travelling solo through Liberia!.

 

[gspod]

Simon If possible, can you post up a map, from time to time, with your journey pencilled in please.
What do you have in that little Kreiga bag on your shoulder?
Thanks

 

[Wapping]

Excellent report and good reading on a foggy day in London.

 

[simondippenhall]

Dermot: request noted and when I can upload pictures again I shall do so. I use the Kriega pocket as a safe and convenient place for my main phone. I have just entered Senegal after riding the length of The Gambia south of the river, and will drop a summary of the day below…but with pictures to follow when I can (which may be a while as I am heading into Guinea by pistes tomorrow and IIRC signal is even worse there than here.

So here is the day, in words…you’ll have to imagine the visuals for now

I woke rested and was enjoying a peaceful breakfast when one of the three other guests started blasterbating - an Italian member (a lady of mature years) of the group of EU election observers who are spending 6 weeks in Gambia observing the current presidential election.

This is a thing in Africa and S America, to play loud audio rather than use ear pieces, so I was expecting it…but surprised and disappointed by its source

So I wandered down to settle my meal and drinks bill…and was presented with someone else’s bill to my room number. Eventually after 4 attempts to get the bill right it was sorted by me writing my own bill and getting the “boy” (as his colleagues called him) to price each item and add it up.



Left 9:15 and already it’s hotter than yesterday and a gritty wind blowing

I am Headed to eastern end of Gambia and then will drop into Senegal

I make a Prompt elevenses stop (I am learning!) see pic where I have a pain and ‘bean balls with gravy’…tasty. Then the bike mobbed by small boys so I head off.

Quiet roads, usual incessant speed bumps but I am in no hurry…only 240 kms ride today.

Tempted by Halal Oil as I leave Basse Santa Sou but decide against, instead pull up at another little roadside stand where Kumba (pictured) cooks me a 3 fried egg baguette and a delicious cup of tea (picture). I give her and the tuktuk driver lunching besides me a London post card each…Kumba gets Buck House and is enchanted. She is a 16 year old Senegalese who is at school just over the border, and Friday is school day off so she works. She is Fula rather than Wolof or Mandinka.



Leaving Gambia was easy once the police have returned from the mosque (it’s Friday). The Customs men are lunching and invite me to eat with them but I am still full with Kumba's lunch. I am the only person passing through so we have relaxed chats and requests that I come back to see them soon…as I may well do.



Then into Velingara and I return ro the Mission for malnourished children where I stayed 12 months ago. A great cause to support and clean and friendly too. Get the laundry going then out again to see how I can change my surplus Dalasi for CFA….I am directed down undulating sandy back streets near the mosque, seeking a ubiquitous character called Dembo.



He turns out to be a toothless oul fella napping in his sweet shop cum general store…he gives me a fair rate for the Dalasi and I also buy some water and some glue to re attach the sun shade on my aged Garmin.



Then a street side roast chicken and onion dinner with Vimto…living the dream ! I ate here last November and it’s equally delicious (and vegetable-free, sadly!) as then.

Then back to the good sisters at the mission aka a quiet night in my AC room doing some minor repairs (and writing my memoir for you guys )

 

[Northern jock]

Dermot: request noted and when I can upload pictures again I shall do so. I use the Kriega pocket as a safe and convenient place for my main phone. I have just entered Senegal after riding the length of The Gambia south of the river, and will drop a summary of the day below…but with pictures to follow when I can (which may be a while as I am heading into Guinea by pistes tomorrow and IIRC signal is even worse there than here.

So here is the day, in words…you’ll have to imagine the visuals for now

I woke rested and was enjoying a peaceful breakfast when one of the three other guests started blasterbating - an Italian member (a lady of mature years) of the group of EU election observers who are spending 6 weeks in Gambia observing the current presidential election.

This is a thing in Africa and S America, to play loud audio rather than use ear pieces, so I was expecting it…but surprised and disappointed by its source

So I wandered down to settle my meal and drinks bill…and was presented with someone else’s bill to my room number. Eventually after 4 attempts to get the bill right it was sorted by me writing my own bill and getting the “boy” (as his colleagues called him) to price each item and add it up.



Left 9:15 and already it’s hotter than yesterday and a gritty wind blowing

I am Headed to eastern end of Gambia and then will drop into Senegal

I make a Prompt elevenses stop (I am learning!) see pic where I have a pain and ‘bean balls with gravy’…tasty. Then the bike mobbed by small boys so I head off.

Quiet roads, usual incessant speed bumps but I am in no hurry…only 240 kms ride today.

Tempted by Halal Oil as I leave Basse Santa Sou but decide against, instead pull up at another little roadside stand where Kumba (pictured) cooks me a 3 fried egg baguette and a delicious cup of tea (picture). I give her and the tuktuk driver lunching besides me a London post card each…Kumba gets Buck House and is enchanted. She is a 16 year old Senegalese who is at school just over the border, and Friday is school day off so she works. She is Fula rather than Wolof or Mandinka.



Leaving Gambia was easy once the police have returned from the mosque (it’s Friday). The Customs men are lunching and invite me to eat with them but I am still full with Kumba's lunch. I am the only person passing through so we have relaxed chats and requests that I come back to see them soon…as I may well do.



Then into Velingara and I return ro the Mission for malnourished children where I stayed 12 months ago. A great cause to support and clean and friendly too. Get the laundry going then out again to see how I can change my surplus Dalasi for CFA….I am directed down undulating sandy back streets near the mosque, seeking a ubiquitous character called Dembo.



He turns out to be a toothless oul fella napping in his sweet shop cum general store…he gives me a fair rate for the Dalasi and I also buy some water and some glue to re attach the sun shade on my aged Garmin.



Then a street side roast chicken and onion dinner with Vimto…living the dream ! I ate here last November and it’s equally delicious (and vegetable-free, sadly!) as then.

Then back to the good sisters at the mission aka a quiet night in my AC room doing some minor repairs (and writing my memoir for you guys )

Sounds like a good day in West Africa

The bike going like a Honda should after the injector clean?

 

[simondippenhall]

So far. Yes settles into the daily routine:

I roll up to a control :

Me: Salaam Aleikum
Policeman/soldier etc: Aleikum salaam
Me: Ne gna jef?
P: answers in Wolof and I smile and ask in English (or French in Senegal): How is your family?
P: They are managing thank you
Me: I am going to (insert close by destination)…Ok to go?
P: Travel safely

And so it goes…we each enjoy the contact, a smile and maybe a handshake.

A good day in West Africa.

However the main frontier point to Guinea I entered last year was busy (chaotic, even, when I left) and unpleasant so I am going to try a quiet border crossing on unmade roads close to the Guinea-Bissau border , trusting that they have dried up after the rains.

 

[simondippenhall]

Well it’s fair to say my trust was misplaced . My cunning plan turned into 110 kms of gradually deteriorating piste, one third sand, one third red laterite and a further third massive water holes which needed avoiding by scrambling around the banks…and whose mud was tenacious as I found when I got deeply stuck in it.

Probably the hardest day I have done in sub-Saharan Africa.

It was an interesting day and I was anxious as I turned off the tarmac into unknown territory. My mind raced over eventualities - what if I puncture or crash, etc - but then as I got into the swing I just enjoyed the rhythm.

Until after Pakour the piste went down to a new level, really a sandy river bed in parts….despite the grand description on my 20 year old map that it was an ‘all season’ road…or maybe it said ‘seasonal, I should check again.

Sadly can’t load pictures…nor was I taking many while trying to haul the bike out of the deep and clinging mud.
Eventually made it to the Guinea border in a sandy village and was duly admitted (on my slightly incorrect visa so that was a result!). Then the piste got even worse

 

[twizzle]

Glad all well …. Checked in a few times over ref weekend from the comfort of the sofa….

 

[simondippenhall]

Whilst I have a little signal I will jog back to the previous day: here are the pics to supplement that post, guess where they fit

 

[simondippenhall]

Glad all well …. Checked in a few times over ref weekend from the comfort of the sofa….

@twizzle I have to say “All well” wasn’t quite my emotion as I wrestled with the loaded CRF. Fortunately an adept moto-taxi guy passed me and I followed his line - he knew where it was better to risk the water and where not - generally taking to the banks surrounding the hazard was preferred. So the last 20 kms went easier which was good as I was a tad warm. As @jasp jojes my ‘self care for septuagenarians’ isn’t always observed. But made it to Koundara eventually to my luxury room (no light or power, no running water and no fans…until dark when it ran until 2 am and cut off so woke up hot then. All part of the fun

 

[Northern jock]

When you see the mud the temptation is always the water, it can’t be that deep surely? But as we all know, you can lose a car in some of the potholes.
Following a local moto taxi was a great result, you had some hard work before that though, good effort.