Wallis On Wheels Big Bicycle Adventure

The hotel / campsite in Limbe, where the ferry from Nigeria ended, proved to be an excellent place for meeting people whom offered good help. After meeting Fred (his blog: http://www.cape2tangiers.co.za ) and swapping our Lonely Planet guide books next I got friendly with an English couple, Graham and Carol. They were visiting their daughter Faye, who worked in Cameroon’s capital, Yaounde as an English teacher. I explained that I was waiting for a parcel to arrive in Douala, the next big city, and was bored senseless killing time. Faye said she’d be returning back to Yaounde and I was welcome to use the spare room in the shared flat. Here I could use the waiting time by applying for the Gabon visa, and then, if the parcel ever arrived I could simply bus back to Douala to collect.

Having pre-arranged a warmshowers.org  host in Douala I informed him I’d be there the next evening. With almost three weeks of no cycling (thanks Nigeria!!) It was good to be back on the bike, though I’m not sure my calf muscles felt the same. The first section out of Limbe was a very long, 7% gradient hill, doesn’t sound too bad but in this humidity there’s only one thing you get, drenched in perspiration! Sweat continually running down my chest making my boxer-shorts damp and then my shorts. Later in the day as the 35-40’C builds up the moisture content lessens and my top would partially dry….I never thought I’d actually miss the British weather! Allain (on my Right), was my warmshowers host, a descent chap and said I was welcome to his flat whenever I chose, and said with sincerity  He was disappointed I planned to continue the next day so I decided to take another day off, one more couldn’t hurt! Douala was a typical moped riddled city with chaos being the ruling ingredient.

 Being a port city Douala is the financial capital of Cameroon and one real big city. With the Lonely Planet city maps normally being as useful as a chocolate tea-pot my best bet was the trusty compass, heading south with an occasional east turn for good measure got me close to the airport so all was ok. It took 15 miles (24km) until I reached the city limit and still then there were market stalls edging the dusty-sand  kerbed road-side and loitering bodies and taxi’s every where, but eventually peace, tranquillity and the green of Cameroon’s southern roads turned up.

Passing through the town of Edea I stopped  at a reasonable looking bar-café for some food. As I walked up to the entrance a man sitting at a table with a few friends welcomed me to join them. Allain was a keen motorbike tourer, and speaking English, new my situation. After ordering food he said I was welcomed to stay at his house. I initially turned the offer down as I still had more miles to do for the days ‘goal’ (sometimes I seem to get too regimental), but as I sat there in the shade of the day’s peak-heat, people [and traffic] watching and listening to French conversation I felt quite relaxed, almost homely, so decided to take Allain’s offer up. His wife and children lived in Pau, a French Pyrenees town that I cycled through back in September which gave good conversation. As we went to leave he insisted on paying for my food and fanta (ok and a Castel beer!). I sprinted behind his motorbike, eventually leaving the road onto a thinning mud trail, I was intrigued what his house would be like. Surprised or what! Electric gates, a guard dog, more motorbikes and a 4x4 Land-Cruiser. An impressive Ikea styled kitchen, marble floor throughout. He had built the house himself and was work-in-progress. The guest room had en-suite with a hot shower, something I hadn’t had since The Gambia, back in January. After showering and donning my less groggy clothes we popped back to the café-bar for a quick Castel beer then went to the restaurant, an apparent hidden gem that only locals know about. A fine dinner of fish and rice..and a Castel. Once again Allain insisted that he paid. Another show of extreme kindness that people seem to forget and rather convey the negative points to a country. (Allain is next to me)

You’re just Banana’s! Room for anymore in that car?…..Wrong! There actually ‘Plantain’ Slightly bigger (and bruise proof) than 

a banana, if picked when green they taste like potato, if picked when yellow they taste sweet, similar to a turnip.

I think the crash-barrier does what it says on the tin.

Typical build of village houses, a lattice work of sticks with mud fill-in.

Mum, are these African violets?

This was an interesting coffee break. A local said I could marry his sister, and as land is so cheap would be welcomed to build a big house. Thanks mate, but I’d like to see your sister before we go an further on this one.

Yaounde, albeit a good 20 miles or so until the city centre and inevitable madness, although I withheld my expectations as heard it was actually a fairly descent city. Wrong!! After asking locals for directions to my goal and being giving the normal this-way, that-way and ever-way but correct-way was waiting at a set of traffic lights when all of a sudden a hand appeared from over my shoulder, I thought it was the road-sweeper I had passed a few metres back wanting to update direction info, the hand was grabbing, or trying to grab at something, thinking initially the string on my full-brim sun-hat but all of a sudden it had what he wanted and the !”£$%&*!  $%&*$% yanked it off and ran, my mp3 player had gone! I turned the bike around chasing through oncoming cars on the busy city roundabout. He seemed to vanish. Then the road sweeper turned up and said where he had gone, just to my side were three big rain-water drains that run under the city. I felt like jumping down and chasing but Mr sensible said no, he could have a knife or gun, for the sake of £35? By now a crowd of  50-60 people had flocked around us. The Police turned up and were more surprised with my bike and all the panniers than the bloody incident, but I knew there was little they could do. Like a car crash it all happened quite quickly yet slowly. I only used on quiet roads, and to minimise show of material ‘wealth’, my normal ‘procedure’ when entering busy towns and cities is to put it in the panniers. At least I was in a city where I could soon find a cheap Chinese one to last the remaining few months, and my music was all net-book backed-up.

From left to right, Ian, me, Olivia, Faye, Nikki and daughter.

Faye and her flat-mate, Pauline.

The first night we went out for food (and Castel!), and the second night, the third night…..socializing is important in human society. Ian asked if I would give a talk to some of his classes, of which I was only to eager, this would help their learning and allow me to give them something back for the hospitality. One evening we stayed in and Faye and Pauline treated me to a good ol' UK chips n eggs dish.....i'd forgot how good that was!

With my passport now endorsed with a Gabonese visa and waiting 2 weeks over the expected parcel date I had to go. I had another address with the same company in the Gabonese offices so I could re-order the spares, although this time using DHL proved expensive but I could track it all the way. So departing Yaounde the first evening I reached the village of ?????? I stopped at a small bar for a cold coke, appearing to be a quiet place I asked the bar lady if there was somewhere to pitch my tent or an auberge, she said for 3000CFA (£4) I could use a room in her house. After 40 winks her son showed me around the village and his friends. Later I was talking to a local who informed me his grand-father had started the village, he built a bar, along with a petrol generator ran refrigerator, this was the only place for 100’s of miles that a cool beer could be bought, as a result more vehicles passed through and the village grew.

Eventualy after just three days from Yaounde the border of Gabon turned up. Passing 

was a relatively straightforward affair, apart from one small glitch that would reveal itself later.