Is this paradise?

After Guinea, I thought it couldn’t get much better… but it has.

What would your perfect holiday destination be like? What would it offer? For this nomad, the equation is simple…

Great beaches and scenery- Freetown has some of the best beaches in West Africa, with clean sandy strands that stretch for miles. Go down the peninsula, and you can find beach after beach after beach – many of them completely deserted! All this to a backdrop of lush green mountains…

It’s Cheap! – Rooms by the beach are a relatively hefty 20 EUR… but a meal is less than 2 EUR and beers for less than 50 cent!!! I can get pissed for under a fiver! YIPPY!!!

Weed Everywhere – 12 cent a pack. I repeat, 12 cent a pack. It’s too easy to get too. It practically rains herb in Freetown.

Great Nightlife – Every night in Freetown is turned up to 11. Come home at 5AM on a Tuesday morning and you’re a fucking pussy! This place is crazy! The open air clubs are huge and packed every night. You can even buy joints for 25 cent and smoke them inside! Everyone does it, no body gives a shit. Oh.. and what’s that? Reggae music. I think I’m in heaven…

Beautiful women – All the pretty things of Freetown flock to the clubs at night. If you’re white or look like a tourist, you will have to beat these sexy chicas off you with a stick! I had to refuse casual sex three times my first night here!

A typical night out in Freetown…

Last night I went on a date with an upper class chick. She was half Saudi Arabian and half Liberian. Her most striking feature – she had dark skin with electric blue eyes! Dam. We didn’t even make it home, she stripped off in her land rover and had me right on the side of the road. Needless to say it was a good night…

So his week, Sierra Leone are celebrating 50 years of independence. For the whole week it’s festival season… this couldn’t get any better… could it?

 

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Location: Conakry, Guinea.

We’re officially three weeks in. To date, I’ve had more scams and cons tried in West Africa than I have in my entire life; corrupt police, hustlers and thieves. Some of their sinister attempts have been very elaborate indeed. Here are my top three…

3. You broke my phone!

Walking down the road in Bissau, a nervous looking guy is walking my way. He bumps into me, and his phone falls on the ground. He looks at me with sorrowful eyes. The automatic reaction is to bend over and pick it up.

Fail: At the last second I hesitate, my gut tells me something is up. I remember reading about this before. I keep walking. He follows me down the street and starts waving a broken phone in front of my face. My reaction “Fuck off.” End of story. Luckily I was in front of some army dudes so he didn’t get violent.

2. The Bill please…

After finishing our drinks at a nice restaurant, a rather spiffy looking gentleman sits down beside us. “About your bill…” he began. He told us he was the manager. He asks for the correct amount. There is no dispute. Anyone would have happily paid the man.

Fail: Only problem was – we had only just paid the bill! He had obviously knew the price and been monitoring how many beers we had had, but failed to observe the payment. Our friend Harry (British ex-military) got in his face. “Fuck off.” His aggression saw the guy quickly exit. Had the guys plan went correctly… I might well have fallen for it.

1. Super Con

Yesterday, we frantically drove around Conakry looking for an ATM that had money in it – apparently on Sundays the banks run out of money. Our ordeal was shared by another gentleman we met at an ATM in the center – a tourist from Senegal. “Dam, This is a nightmare. I’m in trouble if I can’t get money out!” he said. “Me too!” I returned.

“I know another bank up here” he indeed. He was middle aged and spoke perfect English; sporting respectable attire and nerdy glasses. He asked if he could he share our taxi. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable request.

Him and Gary strike up a conversation in the back seat. He reveals he is a diabetic and needs to buy a (rather expensive) pen to inject his insulin. He even shows the vile.

After driving around the whole city, we have no choice but change some Euros. Unfortunately for our Senegalese friend,  he has no currency! He asks us for a loan of some cash. He’s desperate, he needs his medicine! He might go into a coma. Any decent human being with an once of compassion would help the guy out…

Fail: My friend Gary is a fucking pharmacist! He smelt for keytones of the guy’s breath, analysed the vile and quizzed him. He picked the wrong guys to fuck with. I already thought something was up, but put it down to being paranoid. The guy claimed he didn’t know the area, but knew exactly where to change the money. He told us he already tried cash advances in the hotels and other banks. But more than that, my gut was telling me something was wrong.

When we got back to the room to get our Euros, I shared my suspicions with Gary. He was way ahead of me. When we returned to the taxi, the guy dropped the “Can you lend me money?” line. I told him we only had 20 EUR to our names. It wasn’t long before he fucked off. He wasted a good two hours on the hustle. A good game plan, but he picked the wrong players.

You really got to keep your wits about you when traveling…

Postscript: We had to pay our first bribe today. The processing time for our Sierra Leone visa jumped from three days to one. It took $50 to make it happen. To quote the guy behind the counter… “If you want it hot, you gotta drop it hot.” Hopefully I’ll be in Freetown this time tomorrow…

I’ve done a fair amount of hardcore travel in my time, but nothing could have prepared me for the journey for Bissau (Guinea Bissau) to Labe (Guinea).

Firstly, there was the simple journey from Bissau to Gabu in the north, a smooth four hour journey. There we waited for our transport to fill up for Labe. A few hours past… a few more. Still not full. The heat was unbearable and we had little choice but to wait around the station. We waited, and waited and waited. I couldn’t understand how a seven seater mini-van took so long to fill up. Turns out – it took 22 hours for the fucking thing to fill. We bought our tickets at 1 pm on Monday, and didn’t leave until 11am Tuesday! But that was the good part…

It turned out the wait was merited. There was 21 of us! 16 adults and 5 kids, all crammed into the mini van like sardines. It was the most uncomfortable thing you can imagine. Unfortunately for me, the most heavy set African mama choose her seat right next to me. At the same time I was glad to be leaving… but the fun was only just beginning!

The road got worse the instant we left the station. There was so much pot holes, the 40 km trip to border took 6 hours! Then, in eye shot of the river that separated us from Guinea, we broke down. After a hour and half of baking in the sun, the repairs were made. The next bit is the best….

There was no bridge, only a basic car ferry. The men of our group had to get into a wooden pirogue (a hallowed out tree) and cross the river. Then, we had to physically pull the car ferry 150 meters to the other side! A large metal chain was used, with us laboriously heaving it with all our might. Only to do the same again (this time with the actual van on it!) to reach the other side. It was extremely arduous and we got back on our vehicle caked in dirt and sweat. FUN FUN FUN!

Across the river, we had to deal with a corrupt Guinean immigration officer,  trying to extort a $20 bribe from my friend Gary and I, the only blancos he’d obviously seen in awhile. I was tough in my position and didn’t give him a penny.

On the Guinean side, the roads became nothing more than lumpy dirt tracks. The route was barely functioning and very dangerous. We passed several broken down and over turned vehicles. It was hell. Our vehicle was so packed I couldn’t even find a place to put my feet flat on the ground. As for the fat mama beside me, her left cheek alone cut of the circulation to the right side of my body. It actually became more comfortable to seat on top of two stacked lonely planet books!

Apart from the screaming shitting babies, the smell of sweat was unbearable. To top it off, a young girl decided to vomit all over us from motion sickness. I started to go crazy. The constant bumping and heaving made sleep impossible. We traveled like this for 11 hours Then guess what? ANOTHER manual ferry crossing. Then ANOTHER 7 hours on the unforgiving terrain. It just went on and on and on….AHH!!!

The whole 44 hour trip was a fucking nightmare. Not recommended.

We got to our hotel in Labe at 7AM this morning, caked in mud, sweat and vomit. The first thing we did was order a beer…

It was the best beer I ever had.

I’ve released in the past week that travel  in West Africa and blogging are uneasy bedfellows. As you read this from whatever cozy corner of the world you reside, consider that I’m probably downing a beer in some tiny African village with no electricity, or crammed into a busted bush taxi for a grueling 2 days.

Senegal is a world apart. A few days ago I was in Dakar, a city that would leave your head spinning. You can get a meal for next to nothing on the street, then pay $10 for a small bottle of beer in some nightclubs! WTF? You might be paying for the view – nearly every third or forth girl looks like Naomi Campbell! Any guy who claims he’s not attracted to black girls would be quickly converted on a night out in Dakar. The only problem is 90% of them are working. And $10 a beer in a country where 60% of population live on less than $2 a day!? Fuck that. Dakar gets the big thumps down.

This morning I woke up in a much more pleasing setting – Cap Skirring, a far away beach in the south of the country. Last night I was at a heaving little disco in the village. The place was packed with sweaty Senegalese bodies swarming to the rootsey sounds of West Africa’s best Reggae-tone. In the middle of them all, two Mexican Pirates. A lighter skinned, statuesque woman from Cape Verde got my eye. She had little choice, she was to be pillaged. As it was my last night in Senegal I should have went for a local, but why eat liver when you can eat steak. Well… she wasn’t exactly steak. She looked good but turned out to have a bad aftertaste. She demanded I wed her or buy her a present, niether of which transpired. Anyway, a Cape Verde flag trumps a Senegal flag any day.

Now I’ve arrived in Guinea Bissau. Ever heard of it? Here’s were shit gets interesting… we are offically off the beaten track! We managed to get our hands on some  light sabers too! We have 5 somberos to spread the love. A gaggle of girls have already chased us down the street! I’ve a feeling nights here are going to be anything but boring…. ARGHH!

I’ll put up pics as soon as I get the chance. The connection here is painfully slow..