Monday, March 26, 2018, Mark’s 65th birthday.
We woke about 4am to the sound of barking dogs, of which there are 4 in this community. When they finally stopped, the rooster started in. We laid in bed until it was light enough to see. As we wanted to get back to our vehicle before the heat of the day kicked in, we packed up and ate a hurried breakfast of stale bread and hot water with Nescafe. Then we hit the trail without saying good bye to the Dupa, who were still in bed. We left the tents and bedding behind for the porters to pick up and made our way the 4 miles back to our bus. Mark and I checked the clock and noted that we did the walk in 1 hour and 15 minutes with others close behind. Don and Leslie, who both had walking problems, were brought out by motor scooter and arrived almost exactly when we did. By 7:45am we were back in the air conditioned bus and happily on our way back to the village of Poli to pick up fresh ice before heading south on the main road.
While driving we learn from Wandji that the Dupa were originally from Nubia in millennia BC. They moved south and into the hills to avoid Muslim missionaries. They did not want to submit to the Muslim belief system. They wanted to stick to their natural ways and continue with their own beliefs. As animists, they are ancestor worshipers. To them, God is the first ancestor and others have followed. To become an ancestor one must live a long life, have many children and die of natural causes. Women and men can become ancestors.
A road block on the way to Ngaoundere. This machine is cutting and picking up the old pavement to make way for new asphalt. We did not have to wait long, fortunately.
As we drive south we are still in hot dry desert sahel with occasional low hills, scattered trees and scrub. We pass many villages along the roadside. Most have no power. Bore holes with water are a good distance from many people.
Roadside vendors are in front of every village selling everything from tires to tooth paste, watermelon to batteries. Although we did not see any starving people, life in this desolate country does not offer much more than existence, no matter how hard one works to make a bit of money. During the heat of the day, most people can only sit in the shade.
Locally grown cotton waiting to be picked up. It is dirty and full of seeds.
We pass many small to medium sized fields of spent cotton and sorghum. Before the rains come in June, there will be a frantic effort to plant seeds for the next crops, and get the houses re-thatched. Already there is thatch leaning against most huts waiting for the time. As we are still in the northern half of the country, the people are still mostly Muslim.
We stop at the entrance to a National Park that has no animals — they have all been eaten — and share a watermelon and pineapple purchased from a roadside vendor. As we pull away, leaving what we did not eat on a concrete wall, we see boys racing to be the first to get to our dregs. Our empty water bottles are a treasure as well as the fruit. I wished we had left them more.
After days of being in the flats at about 1400 feet elevation, we suddenly begin to climb an escarpment and reach 4000+ feet quickly. Before starting down the other side, we stop to see the view and feel the air. There is no view, sadly, as the haze and smoke from multiple fires block the entire scene, however, the air is a bit cooler. South of the escarpment, we descend only to 3650 feet and level off there. Although we are still in the north, the scenery is beginning to change as we see palm trees, flowering jacaranda trees and other flowering plants.
The town of Ngaoundere, where we had showers in a local hotel, lunch at a place called the “Coffee Shop” and then boarded the train for the overnight trip to the capital city, Younde.
We enter the district and gradually the town of 1 million called Ngaoundere (pronounced Gan de re). The town has nothing of note to offer us, except for the hotel we stop at to take showers. The water was plentiful and hot and the towels were adequate. We all felt much better. Back in the bus we drove to a restaurant called Coffee Shop and had an excellent meal of the local fish called Capitain served in a mushroom sauce. Sounds bad, but tasted really good.
A street vendor peddling cell phones. Everyone is trying to make a buck.
.A street scene in Ngaundere with tired looking buildings everywhere.
Took a few pix in the area near the restaurant and then headed for the train station. Although we have First Class Cabins, there is nothing first class about the train. It is filthy everywhere, including the station. Fortunately, we can get into our cabin and shut the door. At least the sheets were clean and we did not have to share our 4 person cabin with anyone.
Walking to the train at dusk.
Unfortunately, there is no AC and we swelter until the train moves. It is packed. There are 2 toilets per car, but only one in our car has water. The good news is we sweat so much we don’t need to use the toilet until the middle of the night, when there is no line.
Muslims praying before boarding the train. We are still in the northern half of the country.
It takes hours before we cool down enough to be comfortable. So much for our nice showers. The train departs exactly on time, 7:15pm, and the ride is 15 hours to our destination, the capital city of Yaounde (pronounced Ya un de), thoroughly in the south. Somehow we got through the night. It was now our third night in a row with less than pleasant conditions and the wear and tear is starting to show.
Mark’s birthday started in a tent on the ground in a Dupa village and ended in a dirty train rumbling toward the capital city. An unusual 65th birthday for sure.
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
When we looked out the window in the early morning light, everything was green and lush. What a contrast. The temperature was not as high as in the north, but the humidity was most unpleasant. Hard to say which was worse; very hot, dry air or medium hot, wet air.
At 7:15am we are served a hot omelet, bread and tea or coffee in our cabin. This was a nice touch that had been arranged by Abdul. It was not part of the regular train service. The timing was perfect as we were just beginning to feel hungry. At 9:30 the train stopped at Yaounde.
A crazy taxi lot in Younde, where the population is 3 million and there are more cars than the roads can handle.
The change from country to city was a bit shocking. There were taxis everywhere serving the population of 3 million.
A typical hilly street in Younde.
The city, with 7 hills, was very reminiscent of San Francisco. With many churches and the largest Basilica in Cameroon, the city was 75% Christian and most of that is Catholic.
A panorama of the inside of the Catholic Basilica.
We have a similar, if different bus that takes us on a city tour. First stop is a monastery high on a hill to see the view. However, the haze is still very bad and the view unnoticeable. We walk passed an outdoor set of the Stations of the Cross, with a few people praying. Then we visit the Basilica which was built in 1955 and is not only large, but quite lovely and clean. There is a lovely contemporary statue of the Black Madonna and a photo of JPII on the wall near the altar. He visited Cameroon in 1985.
The Reunification Monument acknowledges the reunification of British and French parts of Cameroon on May 20, 1972
From there we stopped at the Reunification Monument and climbed to the top. Nice to be acting like a tourist for a little bit. The monument was built to honor the reunification of the British and French parts of the country on May 20, 1972. After independence in 1960, the French and British had ruled the country as a Federation between 1960 and 1972. Political positions are very traditionally religious. Paul Biya, is the Catholic President, Yan Philemon is the Catholic Prime Minister, the head of the National Assembly is a Muslim, and the Leader of the Senate is a Protestant, all by tradition.
A typical store in the Craft market.
Abdul, our logistics handler, takes a break while waiting for us to shop. He had a fun personality, even if he couldn’t speak English.
We stopped at a craft market, but the salesman were so pushy, that I got fed up and went back to the bus. There was a mask or two I was interested in considering, but the hassle was not worth the effort.
The craft vendors were relentless, even after I shut the bus door.
Next stop was lunch. We were all ready for something familiar and ordered pizzas and beer. They tasted pretty good, especially with cold beer.
Street vendors are prolific and accommodating. Choose your lazy boy as you drive by. Part of the city is in the background.
A street vendor peddling cell phones. Everyone is trying to make a buck and the streets can get pretty clogged.
It took some negotiating to get us out of the traffic in the city, but finally, around 3pm, we were on National Highway Number 3 headed for Douala, where the port is located. It is the largest and most commercial city in the country. The landscape along the way is lush green forest and even jungle in some areas. The temperature is warm, but bearable.
Along the way, National Route #3, we chatted among ourselves about travel operators and which ones are good for particular purposes. I made a good list to check out for future adventures. Brian, with 176 countries under his belt and an excellent memory, is a real wealth of information. He has been many places I had never heard of – tiny islands especially. Generally, the group is pretty companionable, in spite of the heat and exhaustion we have experienced. We all noticed the intense 18 wheeler traffic on the road and soon realized we were on the main artery that connects the port at Douala on the South Atlantic Ocean with the capital and interior of the country. It is an endless line of trucks with huge tires.
Before getting to Douala, we stop at a hotel called Hostellerie de la Sanaga on the Sanaga River. Our room has a view of the river, is deliciously cold, mostly clean, has a good firm bed, clean sheets, good pillows, plenty of hot water and good pressure and even a box of condoms in the bathroom much to our amusement. We have dinner next door. It was a fish stir-fry that sounded good, but was not what my, stomach wanted and I could not eat it all. Oh well. We were all happy to slip into the first decent bed we had had in 4 nights.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
Out before breakfast, we went for a bit of a walk around the property. The river is very wide and large with greenery right up to the bank. The breakfast buffet was not much. Made due with a sweet roll and coffee.
On the way to visit the chimps, we pass a rubber plantation with every mature tree being tapped for its latex.
Waited for box lunches to be packed and finally drove off about 8:20 heading for a orphan Chimpanzee Sanctuary. We drove 1.5 hours over a poor dirt and mud road to get to the river boat that will motor us to the sanctuary. Along the road we passed many houses, all occupied, in various states of dilapidation. Then we came to a check point and entered private property owned by SAFECAM, a French Company that operates large rubber and palm tree plantations. We passed through several miles of palm and rubber trees. Stopped and took a few pix and learned that the Palm trees have 3 products; oil, wine and seed oil used for cosmetics. The rubber trees were being worked by several employees, who looked like colored shadows in the twilight of the vast numbers of trees.
A chimp went up to Mark and raised his hands to be held. Mark could not resist.
Finally we reached the boat launch. Just a small motor boat, but we did not go far up river before we arrived at the sanctuary. We were greeted by a handful of people who were mostly volunteers, who come for 2 week stints to help with spending time with the chimps and managing the facility. There are 9 young chimps currently in the sanctuary ranging in age from 1 to 4 years. At the landing where the volunteers sleep and hang out were two little chimps who hang out there all day.
I delight in a young chimp, named Tomat, hugging me and chewing on my chin.
The slightly older chimps are taken to a clearing in the forest a short distance from the river landing every day from 9am to 6pm. Then they return to the clearing where they are housed during the night.
Don, a member of our group, watches as a chimp methodically unbuttoned and rebutted his shirt.
After removing anything that might be grabbed by a chimp, including our glasses, we walked to the clearing where the chimps were and hung out with them for about 45 minutes. Does not seem like a long time, but it was more than enough for all of us. We had chimps crawling all over. They seemed to delight in unbuttoning our shirts and digging into our pockets to see what they might find. It was fun for awhile, especially hugging them when they came up to you wanting to be held. Very much like holding a furry baby.
Mark gets a surprised 65th BD cake while at the gorilla sanctuary. We all had a bite and left the rest for the chimp staff.
Back at the landing area, we had our box lunches: wonderfully simple ham and cheese sandwiches and fruit. Then, Wandji called me aside to show me the cake they had had made for Mark’s birthday, even though the day had passed. It was a nice touch, even with candles that made 65. We all sang the birthday song to Mark and he proceeded to cut the cake into pieces. We each had one bite and left the rest for the volunteer team. Sure hope they liked it.
Then we were back on the boat, and shortly back in the bus and longly driving to Douala. The highway is full of huge 18 wheelers in both directions 24/7. Several trucks are carrying huge old growth logs. We see log yards with huge piles of same and I realize that the harvesting of timber is happening at a great rate. Sure does not look sustainable to me. The government requires sustainable logging, but no one regulates the business.
Old growth logs being hauled to the port for shipment to foreign markets. Even I, a member of a timber family was saddened to see what appeared to be unsustainable harvesting.
We got stuck near the city and very slowly got around a truck stopped in the middle of the road. Finally, we arrived at the Hotel Sawa, our last Cameroonian home for the night. It is ok, but not as nice as the Sanaga, the night before, although it does have a swimming pool and pleasant grounds. We get to our room, put on our suits and head for the pool. It did feel good to cool off. Then we went back to the room and had a dirty clothes stomp in the bathtub. The place looked like a Chinese laundry when we had everything hanging around to dry. To speed up the process, we had snagged beach towels from the pool area so we could wring things out more.
While our clean things dried, we put on our only dry clothes and went to our farewell dinner with our head guide Willy, whom we had not seen for several days. He took us to a fun restaurant over the river and looking out toward the ocean, Le Dernier Comptoir Colonial. There was a lovely constant breeze. With his help we all ordered a really good meal of a fish called Bar. It was served grilled with plantains. I ate it like I would trout. Delicious. That and a scotch and I was set for a good night’s sleep.
Thursday, March 29, 2018 Holy Thursday
Even though this is our last day and all I want to do is relax and write, we meet Willy at 9am for a city tour and one last lunch.
Original German buildings from the years they were in power in the Congo before WWI.
We drove around the oldest part of the city where we say original German buildings and
Paintings of Heroes of the Resistance, both from the Germans and later from the French.
monuments to Heroes of the Resistances, both German and, later, French. Then we stopped at another craft market. At least we were not pushed around so much at this one, but still had no interest in buying anything. Finally, we stopped at a restaurant Willy wanted us to try.
Our final meal of a traditional spinach, finely ground nuts and onion concoction served with plantains that Willy wanted us to try. I was not up to it, but others said it was good.
The lunch place was outdoors and unpleasantly warm. Willy planned a traditional Cameroonian meal for us. It consisted of a spinach-like green, with a mild taste, finely chopped, ground nuts and sautéed onions mixed and cooked together. Very tiny Camerones shrimp, which are found in the rivers around the city and from which the name, Cameroon, comes, were served on top of the dish. Mark and I did not stay to eat it, as my tummy was not inclined. Very unlike me. Later, Noriko told us it tasted good and she enjoyed the dish. Oh well.
Back at the hotel we packed up our dry laundry and relaxed in our cool room until time for Noriko and the 2 of us to head for the airport. We leave Douala at 4:30pm for a long, late and tiring trip to Entebbe, with a 3+ hour layover in Kigali. We get into Entebbe about 1:50am.
Adventures with Julia 