Back in my namesake country I did feel relived; it had so far been much easier to travel in Cameroon than in Chad so I did feel that a weight had been lifted as I sat on the bus heading towards Maroua. On my preparing to volunteer course back in the UK I had met a guy named Paul who was heading to Cameroon at the same time I was heading off to Ghana. We got on well and he was a good laugh so I dropped him an email to let him know I was coming, he as luck would have it was in Maroua and so I had a place to stay.
I met up with Paul as he relaxed by a hotel pool with a couple other volunteers, spent the a few hours here unwinding and having a couple beers. There was a going away party for a couple VSO volunteers that evening and I was invited. Krista and Jude were not going to reach Maroua until the following evening now so it worked out well.
It was an entertaining evening meeting other country VSOs, as I sat at a table I thought I could have been back in Ghana, the people were all the same time of personalities, loved the same things, bitched about the other things and of course drank tons of beer. It made me smile to see how similar we all were as if it was just a mirror image of a VSO meeting in Wa.
The next day I had planned to go out to a village called Rhumsiki which sports some interesting volcanic features. I awoke around 8:00, a bit worse for wear and dehydrated, but I managed to stumble out of Paul’s place and get a moto taxi to a bus company that would take me the first leg of the journey to Mokolo about one hour away. As I sat on the bus I realised I had forgot my passport, this can be a major issue as the Cameroon police will use this as a good excuse to bolster their salaries. Paul came to my rescue and delivered the passport just as the bus was leaving, literally passing it through the window to me as we pulled away down the street. This was my first adventure with my passport. I reached Mokolo without any drama. There was another VSO going to Rhumsiki and we had met on the bus so we decided to travel together.
From Mokolo it is 50 or so kilometres down a bad dirt road on the back of a motorbike to Rhumsiki. We had fought hard and haggled well in Mokolo to get the price to a reasonable level and we headed off on two bikes. It was a great trip; I had my trust head scarf so wrapped myself up like Lawrence of Arabia to keep the sun and wind off my head. The scenery was gorgeous, passing over river beds, past mountains and across dry
sun baked planes all the while watching the amazing volcanic structures looming in the distance.
They are apparently lava pipes, the remnants of volcanoes that once stood here that has had all the surrounding dirt and rock eroded just leaving the center magma channel that is made up of harder rock. They are pretty spectacular and not like anything I had seen before. It was such a nice journey that even though the road was bad and it took awhile the time seemed to fly by and I really enjoyed it.
Rhumsiki its self is a small little village with a plethora of hotels due to its proximity to the mountains, it is used as a base for many visitors who come to the region and hike. It was market day so the place was heaving with people everywhere selling everything and anything. We sat and made a lunch out of the various foodstuff components of the market. I always enjoying sitting in markets, they have a life all to themselves and I like to remove myself from the hustle and continuous need to move as people surge back and forth. I just find myself a place to sit and enjoy the ballet that plays out around you as women with huge loads on their heads navigate past one another down narrow alley ways while children dart in and out.
It was a peaceful afternoon spent in the shade looking out at the beautiful scenery, I did a small hike but I enjoyed more just relaxing under one of the trees and letting the world pass by. I hopped a bike back to Mokolo around 4:00, got the last ticket on a bus to Maroua and was back just as the sun had set.
I met up with Paul and we had a couple beers, a bite to eat and played a bit of pool, my skills have not improved and he schooled me. It was Krista’s Birthday so we met up with Krista and Jude just as they were finishing a nice dinner and had a couple drinks. There was a group of America birdwatchers in the restaurant who all got really excited at one point in the evening when they spotted a white owl in the tree above them, it was a funny site seeing 10 adults all peering through binoculars at this bird in a tree.
The next morning I met Krista and Jude at the bus station in the wee hours of the morning, we were heading eight hours south to N’Gaoundéré a major town with nut much to see but it is the northern terminus for the railway line to the south. The plan was to hope a train that evening (there is only one train a day and it’s at night) for Yauondé. The train is supposed to take around 14 hours normally but we had heard so many horror stories of 72 hour journeys because the train is known to jump the tracks, not causing any damage but taking time to be put back on the rails. We had been unable to buy tickets in Maroua and were hoping to get them in N’Gaoundéré.
Our hopes were dashed pretty quickly in the train station when we were greeted by a massive queue. We found out there were no sleeper tickets for three days and no first class crochet type for two days. The queue for second class was massive and after four hours in the station we had to admit defeat. We had met a German volunteer (Lena) and her mother and sister who were visiting her. They were in the same boat as us and so we had tried together to get tickets but we had all failed. Lena was told to come back early the next morning and they would see what could be done.
Krista, Jude and I checked into a cheap hotel and passed an uneventful evening as we were all tiered. The next morning Jude and I headed to the station; Krista wasn’t feeling well so we left her in bed. We met the Lena and Queued to see if tickets were a possibility. About 9:00 our efforts were rewarded, well not ours but the Lena’s. She was able to get her hand on three first class tickets and four second class (three for us and one for one of her friends). We all breathed a sigh of relive after walking out of the station with the tickets in hand.
For the rest of the day we napped, and then played cards in a bar. Had tried to get out to a local waterfall but had given up when the price wouldn’t be reduced from a ridiculous amount. We boarded the Train around 18:00 and we set of soon after. Second class wasn’t too bad; in fact I was expecting a lot worse. It was just sets of four seats sort of like in some of the tube trains, or most passenger trains, the seats were not the most comfy but they certainly could have been worse.
I was like any other journey in Africa, stopping and letting people on and off then being swarmed by hawkers all selling the same thing usually (imagine 100 people selling honey at once). I hovered in a semi sleep semi conscious state for most of the trip. Rigged up my scarf from the luggage rack above to cradle my head, helped a little, but gave the other passengers a good amount of enjoyment though. Enjoyed corn on the cob at about 6:30, of course bought through the window at one of our many stops. Since it was night for most of the trip we didn’t get to see much of the scenery but awoke to lush tropical jungles a far cry from the dusty north. All in all it was a nice trip and our luck held and we arrived at just after 9:00 in Yaoundé.
Again the first order of business was visas (well I did grab a sandwich first) so we headed to the Gabonese Embassy. This is where my hopes of getting to Sao Tome & Principe died, the Gabon visa was expensive, even more to get a multiple entry which I would need to fly to Sao Tome and back and the killer took three days. Even if I paid for the “express” service I couldn’t pick it up until the following evening, so that was it, no Sao Tome. We left our passports and headed off to find a place to sleep.
Paul had given me a friend of his number, a VSO volunteer called G (forget how to spell her name, sorry G) who lived in Yaoundé. I text her and she was kind enough to offer us a place to stay, Krista and Jude decided they wanted a bed so declined, I accepted and so left them to go and Meet G. We met up and she showed me to her flat before she had to head back to work. We arrange to meet at her work later to go for dinner.
Yaoundé is really pretty, spread out over rolling green hills covered in lush green tropical vegetation, it felt more like a village than the capital city. I had a shower that revitalised me somewhat so I didn’t feel like sleeping so I went for a walk. Met some locals having dinner on a bunch of couches next to the side of the road and enjoyed a drink with them. It’s a nice city to walk around it although the hills do make it a bit tiring but it wasn’t too hot or humid so it was still pleasant.
I met up with G and we headed off to meet up with Krista and Jude. We had arranged to meet at a big boulangerie. Bad place, it had cakes, proper bread and Ice Cream, proper ice cream not the suck it out of a tube type, but the comes in a cone type with chucks of good stuff in it type. Over my time in Yaoundé (only about three days) I think I had about six cones, but I digress
We met Krista and Jude and all headed off for dinner and a few drinks, was a nice quiet evening as we were all tiered from traveling so we chatted for a bit then parted ways and headed to bed. Krista and Jude had decided to head to the Ring Road in Cameroon while I wanted to head to the base of mount Cameroon and then head down to Gabon. So we decided once again to split up.
On the way home G and I encountered a police road block and because I failed to produce my Passport (because it was at the Gabonese embassy) was threatened with time in jail and all the like until a little money changed hands and the problem disappeared.
I had decided to go to Limbe on the coast for a night so I got up early the next morning, said goodbye to G and headed off to take a bus from Yaoundé to Douala about three hours west. Douala is the second largest city in Cameroon and about the only place I didn’t feel that safe, I had been told by the locals multiple times to watch my stuff and don’t use my mobile.
From Douala it was only about one hour to Limbe and I had planned to get a shared car there. The only car leaving was driven buy (excuse my French) a total asshole who demanded that I buy both front seats (nothing to-do with my size before you start to laugh) for 4000 CFA. Now I had been told it was 1500CFA to get there so I was not happy about this, he said that I had to buy the two seats of I would have to go in the minibus that was next to the car, something I don’t think he expected me to do. So I said fine, grabbed my backpack went to the mini bus, paid my 1500CFA and got a great seat in the front, one hour later I was in Limbe.
Limbe is on the coast in the Shadow of Mount Cameroon in lush green tropical forests. On the way there you pass through rubber and banana plantations while weaving over the rolling countryside. It has picturesque palm fringed beaches with one difference they have black sand. Mount Cameroon is a volcano and still active, last erupting in 2000 so there is plenty of volcanic rock to be ground up into sand. This is also in one of the two English speaking regions of Cameroon; basically it’s like Canada in reverse with a large French speaking population and a small English speaking population.
I spent a very peaceful day first checking out the Limbe Wildlife Center which house animals, mostly primates that have been rescued, donated or confiscated. I met a Cameroonian guy named Julias outside of the center who was heading to a good beach, I had heard about this place from G and others. He was going out on his moto and I got a lift, he was a carpenter and had just finished work and was going to the beach to relax.
We spent a few hours relaxing on the beach and swimming in the warm waters of the Atlantic. Just before sunset we headed off and Julias took me to the lava flow left from the 2000 eruption. This black scar running up the mountain, never seen a lava flow before so didn’t know what to expect, climbed up on it and took a look, it was quite high and made up of very black porous rock. It was hard to imagine this as a moving flow of lava.
Julias dropped me of at a restaurant I had been recommended by G. Up on a hill overlooking the bay on the porch of a villa was the “Bird Watchers Club” which you wouldn’t know was a restaurant unless you knew, no sign or anything just look for the green gate I was told.
Well I sat down to a perfect evening, there was a great view looking down the coast and out over the bay, a nice warm wind blowing and the food. This was the best meal I had the chef just had a chat with me and we put together a menu of Onion Soup with French bread with melted cheese (proper cheese!!!) for starters and a pork chop with veggies, roasted potatoes and a cheese sauce. I pretty much thought I had died and gone to heaven as I sat back in my chair completely satisfied and content. I retired to my hotel later and slept very well.
To avoid having to change in Douala I caught a direct bus o Yauondé the next day and met up with G in the evening. She treated me a lovely dinner, I haven’t had two good meals in a row in a long time. The next day I just hung out with G and took it easy while getting a few errands done, backing up photos, getting money, getting my passport, you know the little things. In the evening we met up with some of her friends, ex-VSO’s who had finished their time and gotten jobs in Cameroon working in development, sounded like not a bad life at all.
On a side note about food I will have to say that I ate very well in Cameroon. The French influence was there, and they have barguests like in Togo and Benin also they did grilled chicken and had mustard to put on it which was amazing and things like steak and chips (potato not yam) became much more of a normal person’s meal. This trend would continue and peak in Gabon with meals that are considered in Ghana to be expensive and ex-patty as being eaten by locals as an everyday thing. But I will say my favourite meal as you may have figured out was sandwiches, they made great sandwiches in the French bread. With fresh avocado, tomato, onions, lettuce and they sometime luncheon meats or salami even. Laughing cow made it appearance of course and with everything else worked quite nicely. They even had a vinaigrette type dressing to put in the sandwich. I ate so many of these and really wish this type of thing was in Ghana.
Back at it the next day I said goodbye to G again and headed for Gabon. The journey was a simple one and took around six hours I think. There were a lot of checkpoints along the way (very different than in the rest of Cameroon) but the officers at these check points had figured out that a lot of travelers don’t have their yellow fever vaccination certificates. And so, I was asked many times for this and it felt so good to make them sigh as I produced the correct document (they didn’t even look at it) instead of slipping another piece of paper their way.
I got off the bus in Kye-Ossi, the border town on the Cameroon side. There is kind of a border T junction here as Cameroon meets Equatorial Guinea to the south west and Gabon to the south east. The crossings are very close to each other and I passed the Equatorial Guinea one on the way to the Gabonese one.
So, I once again found myself with border officials having a good laugh over my name and then walking across a bridge about to step foot in another country.
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