Benin and Nigeria

Mammoth blog entry coming up - communications through Benin and Nigeria were very poor - mostly reduced to occasional texts, usually using the Swiss mobile phone (thank you!!).  So the following diary extracts only came through the day before yesterday - so there's a back log.

Andrew is currently safely in Cameroon where he is sorting visas, will soon be fixing the bike (parts are almost all there now) and enjoying Pete's beers, pool and the first salad he's eaten since Spain! (never touch uncooked food).  I will load his Cameroon diary entries all in a oner, hopefully in about a week from now.

Until then - brace yourselves ...

7.2.10 – Day 50 - Lome


… On the ride back to Lome my bike had trouble for the first time. As I’d release the throttle and pull the clutch in the engine would cut out. It didn’t happen all the time at first, but by the time I got to Lome I had to keep the throttle open to keep the bike from stalling when I stopped in the traffic… I was worried that using so much 4 star petrol rather than unleaded was clogging up my exhaust and catalytic converter, causing the exhaust fumes to be ‘trapped’. I thought on Monday I’d take the bike to the KTM dealer in Lome – my last chance for a mechanic experienced in these kind of bikes. Later in the day though I wondered whether it might just be that idle-ing speed was too low. A quick check of my manual, 15 minutes tinkering with the bike and a quick test ride and problem sorted! The idle screw must have been loosening off over time. It should idle between 1400 and 1600 rpm – it was idle-ing at 900! Phew! At least the bike still works.

I had a meeting with the swiss and germans this evening and it looks like they are going to wait and see if I get my Nigerian visa, then we’ll all head off in convoy through the South of Nigeria. It seems to be the country that people fear the most. Notorious for corruption, crime and kidnapping – alongside sporadic ethnic violence in the North. In the delta region of the south where all the oil is – 200 foreign nationals have been kidnapped since 2007. Our route should avoid most of the problems though.

8.2.10 – Day 51 – Lome

So, I dropped my passport off at the Nigerian embassy – finally. Just as I was handing over my visa application form, 2 photos, photocopy of passport x 2, photocopy of letter of invitation – the unfriendly lady said “are you riding by motorbike?” I said yes – “So I’ll need a photocopy of your carnet de passage and vehicle registration document”. Ahhaaa! I’d already pre-empted this next hurdle and passed over the photocopies. I should have been able to pick up the visa and passport at 9am the next day. It seems as a way of exerting her power over me for having had all the right documents, she says I can collect after 3 tomorrow! What a vindictive lady! Later in the day I had a meeting with the Swiss couple (on a motorbike) and the German couple (in their van) to make final arrangements for our small convoy across Nigeria. Assuming I get my visa tomorrow I’ll head into Benin late and meet them the day after tomorrow. They’ll leave tomorrow morning.

9.2.10 – Day 52 – Abomey, Benin

Well, I got my Nigerian visa – just! I arrived to collect the visa at 2pm. The same lady behind the desk was sat doing nothing with no one else in the office – with just my passport sat on her desk. I asked for my passport and visa – she said she hadn’t done the processing and I’d have to have another meeting with the High Commissioner. She asked if I wanted to leave without the visa. I said no, I’ll wait. I was sure I wasn’t going to get my visa today. I waited for half an hour – no meeting. But I was given my passport (which must have already had the visa in it) and left. I’m so glad to get the visa – otherwise the alternatives would be very bad for me. But the whole process was like the lady – nasty.

Oche - a Nigerian friend from Edinburgh was so kind though, helping me with a letter of invitation. Without him, my trip might well now be over.

I got through the Togo/Benin border at 4pm and headed to meet the others in the convoy. The locals I met seemed more relaxed and open than those I met in Togo. Maybe it’s just a more stable country. I got to Abomey just as it was getting dark. People always tell me with the opening and closing fit, or the flashing of lights, that I should turn my headlights off (you can’t on European bikes) – they get infuriated by it1 What’s strange though, is as it actually started getting dark, more and more people started flashing. It seems that most people don’t use their head lights in the dark! I’m sure there must be a logic here – but I can’t see it.

10.2.10 – Day 53 – Come, Benin

As the German guy I’m travelling with today said “this is your second birthday”.

The 2 Swiss on motorbike, the 2 Germans in their 4x4 and I set off for the Nigerian border at 8ish. ... On a straight section of road we were travelling at about 60 miles per hour when my rear wheel locked solid. The bike immediately started skidding and I did all I could to control it. After about 40 metres the rear wheel started to slide out to the left, as which point I was sliding down the road almost sideways. This pulled me in the wrong side of the road. Luckily, there was no on-coming traffic.

I held on for as long as I could before letting go of the bike and sliding down the road. I slid a long way on my right hand side with the bike ahead of me. The Germans said I flipped once before springing to me feet. Unbelievable I’d sustained no real damage. The Kevlar in my jeans protected my legs and the armour on my elbow saved my arm. There are friction burns through the jacket and gloves, but I only sustained a minor rash on my hip and forearm. No bruising or blood at all. I’m so glad I was with others in the convoy. They rushed to help get me and the bike off the road, sat me down and put bandages and disinfectant on my arm. I wasn’t panicked or in shock, but I couldn’t help feeling how selfish this is for Tracy and the baby. In a way I’m quite fatalistic for myself, but it’s others I worry for. If I was 22 with no one relying on me coming home, it would be easier to accept the risks of motorcycling across Africa.

The chain had broken and caught around the chain ring. With the help of Daniel (the Swiss) we got the wheel and chain off before getting a tow into town with the other motorbike. The list of damage is as follows:

Bent chain ring, bent and damaged swinging arm, wrecked chain, bent rear break leaver, broken locking mechanism for one of the rear panniers, nuts on the chain ring were sheared and the front forks are bent.

Daniel sorted out finding a hotel and a mechanics shop. I didn’t hold out much chance of getting the bike on the road again, but the mechanic seemed confident with the rudimentary tools and on a dirt floor by the side of the road they got the bike going. It is like a wounded horse that may only just limp along, but at the moment it moves! The others kindly stayed with me, which was really good of them – and their French skills were so useful in communicating with the mechanics. Some people say this kind of even makes you feel glad to be alive – I was plenty alive enough beforehand. I’m just glad not to be dead.

11.2.10 – Day 54 – Kuta, Nigeria

Well, another testing day. I tested the bike this morning to find that it worked, but anything over 30mph caused worrying vibrations through the bike. We set off again for the Nigerian border. Yet again we missed the customs post on the Benin side, but got the police to stamp our carnet de passage, The Nigerian customs post was down some very unlikely-looking tracks through a small villages. There we had a look at the rear swing arm of the bike – it was cracked on 2 of its 4 sides. This is the thing that keeps the rear wheel in place. It was apparent that I shouldn’t bike any further than I needed to get it sorted out, or faster than I was willing to fall off the bike at. It could break at any time. I put my bags into the German’s van and carried on very slowly.

This was my lowest point of the journey so far. After falling yesterday and being told today that my bike was unrideable was a real blow. I thought it meant the end of the trip, the end of the good company or possibly 3 weeks hideous time in Lagos dealing with paperwork and customs. This would also leave me in Central Africa in the main wet season – not a good idea, and would probably not be able to see Tracy in South Africa.

The next 2 hours were infuriating. We passed through an incredible number of road blocks – police, immigration, health officer, army etc. It went on and on. In the first 15km there were perhaps 20 road blocks - mostly with guys in mud huts and not wearing any uniform apart from their flip flops and a dirty vest. All the road blocks had wood across the road with nails banged through facing upward. This level of control was surely just too bizarre. At least they were all very friendly – but all stopped us for a chat and handshake.

In the first big town Daniel had the great idea to try see if we could find an aluminium welder in town. Remarkably we tracked on down. They used a blow torch with gases concocted by themselves to melt aluminium onto the swinging arm. I’m still riding – and will hopefully ride another day.

12.2.10 – Day 55 – Benin City, Nigeria

Well Daniel has just come to my room to tell me he’s been electrified by the mains. About an hour ago when I last saw him, as we were moving into our rooms, I said “it’s a good day – well, at least we’ve had no accidents!” He was taking a shower but it was cold. He adjusted the boiler and got shocked. His hand gripped around a water pipe – so the only way to stop the electrocution was to pull the pipe right off the wall, filling the room with water in the process.

Today we headed down the main road east toward the dangerous part of Nigeria. Being white here brings a real possibility of kidnap. In the area just South of us 200 people have been kidnapped since 2007 – mostly oil men and most have been released. The road is something to behold. We had heard that it wasn’t too bad, but I’ll try and describe the route. The road goes through what would have been rain forest, but now is luck forest, scrub and palm oil plantations. The traffic is heavy, a mixture of insanely driven minivans, all with Christian slogans on them, slow moving trucks billowing out toxic black clouds of exhaust and car owners who like to see how fast their car can go. There are numerous army and police check points along the road – often less than a mile apart. Logs are placed in the dual carriageway as traffic calming so the police can stop you. All wear automatic rifles or machine guns, held ready to use. There are probably about 8 armed men at each stop. If a car doesn’t stop they have big sticks which they beat the car with. I think the income for this huge police force is through ‘dash’ or bribe. The police always stop us – sometimes flexing their guns to look the part, then always smile, shake our hands and find out where we are from. Out of dozens of road blocks I had only one police man asking for money. We did stop for one group of police though who had obviously had too much to drink and were dancing and acting the fool.

Often at these road blocks the locals make use of the traffic calming measures by standing on the road edge selling food and drink. Some women with plastic cones of nuts on trays on their heads, men selling cold water or deep fried sweet dough with a hard boiled egg inside. Occasionally there would be a village or town by the side of the road which has turned into a mile long truck stop. Parking is done on the outside or fast lane of the dual carriageway with the nearside being filled up with more people selling food and drink to the passengers of the slow vehicles which had had to slow down as the dual carriageway is only one lane wide now.

The open road between towns is littered with dozens of car and lorry wrecks sometimes with the bits still on the road, or being used by the police to make their road block.

We are now installed in our hotel which is surrounded by razor wire and has 2 security guards with AK47s, so I think we’ll be alright. The restaurant experience is getting familiar. A loud tv and music being pumped out of a stereo makes it difficult to talk. The waiter brings over a menu. You choose your dish. The waiter tells you he hasn’t got your choice. You ask him what he’s got. He says “fried chicken with rice or chips”. You order your food and drink and wait an hour or 2 for it to arrive – usually cold.

13.2.19 – Day 56 – Owerri, Nigeria

We have found a way to deal with the ridiculous amount of police road blocks – ‘the Jedi mind trick’. They all want to pull us over to ask us where we are going and where we’re from. If we are approaching fast they wave us down – we smile and wave back – invariably they start waving at us and we roll on through. If there is a queue of traffic approaching the road block, we pull up to the office with his big gun and before he can ask us to pull over we start asking his questions – usually directions. When he sees that traffic builds up he moves us on.

I forgot to mention that when we arrived in the first city of Nigeria we stopped in a big hotel for lunch. No sooner had we taken our helmets off, we were being interviewed by the state tv channel – a bit of a Ewan and Charlie moment in Kazakstan – I guess they thought it was because they were famous – sorry to disappoint you guys!

Lunch today was under cover in a mechanics bay in a fuel station hiding from the tropical rain. I eat fried plantain chips, home roasted cashew nuts and 4 boiled eggs. The ladies doing the selling were all wearing “God is Love” matching t shirts. They came undercover and each had an instrument in there – mainly percussion – drums and the like. They burst into African gospel singing for 20 minutes before sitting round for a group prayer.

This country is seriously religious – I’ve never seen such intense Christianity. Churches are everywhere, Evangelists fill the tv channels and all the transport on the road is covered in Christian slogans. Every fringe church seems to be represented here and most businesses are religiously branded. Such things as “Jesus is the power oil and lube company”. I’m kinda liking Nigeria so far – security is a concern, the roads are dangerous and the towns are polluted and congested, but the people seem friendly and engaging. In some ways this part of the country reminds me of India – in the last town we passed through they even have tuc tucs!

P.S. Well I’ve just come back from my evening meal. We ordered our food to be told it’ll be quick. The food arrived on the table more than 2.5 hours later. I’m exhausted, haven’t washed myself or my clothes and all I want to do is sleep.

14.1.10 – Day 57 – Calibar, Nigeria

Another bizarre day in Nigeria. As I came downstairs this morning I was greeted by a journalist for the regional paper – I guess not too many tourists come this way. After an interview and photos we set off into the fog.

This day has taken us through a really wild part of Nigeria. When we arrived this afternoon in Calibar we met a lady running a primate reserve. She asked us where we had been and she said “Wow, - Aba, you’re the brave ones – real blade runners!” I guess it WAS as bad as we feared. The volume of people in the towns is like being in India – heaving masses of humanity with heat, fumes, noise and traffic to match. In Aba we came to a standstill for a while. A police guy then ran straight past me shouting holding his AK47. Just as he passed the vehicle in front he started firing. A second cop followed quickly behind, firing also. As it turns out they were firing in the air – but it is a chilling sound and over the top for clearing a traffic jam. It’s these situations that could so easily escalate into something much worse.

Once out of town we pulled over in a quiet fuel stop. A guy came over and told us we shouldn’t hang around for too long – this is the area where armed militia have been taking foreigners hostage at an alarming rate. Armed robbery is also extremely common. Again, we had huge numbers of military and police checkpoints. Most gave us no trouble – only one guy asked for money and another came to ask questions with his belt undone, wearing flip flops and an AK47. In his hand he had a cut down water bottle as a glass and a half litre bottle of gin – he was pissed.

The scenery further south and east was stunning – such a vibrant green of trees and palm. Gently rolling and occasionally crossing beautiful rivers. There were plenty of pot holes in the road, but we only had to negotiate one very bad section of road. It was about 200m of deep mud which had various trucks stuck in it. The 2 motorbikes and 4x4 van made easy work of it. Today was Sunday and everyone was out in their Sunday best. Men in smart trousers and shirts and the women in elegant dresses in vibrant printed colours. In towns, evangelist preachers were played through loud speakers and in the countryside huge groups sat outside churches in the shade singing, playing music and praying. It gave a huge sense of community – everyone in the village coming together once a week to follow a common goal – something that has finished in the UK.

The people in Nigeria are so friendly, warm and welcoming. The country is a little intimidating, and for good reason, but the vibrancy and life here makes for great travelling. Today was Valentines day and all the police would say to us as we passed ‘happy valentines!’. That really sums up what I’ve seen of Nogeria so far.

PS – my favourite sign of the day is “stay focused, wear a condom”.

15.2.10 – Day 58 – Calibar

Well quite a relaxed and sedate day today. A trip to the Cameroon council proved easy visa pickings, if a little expensive at 96 Euro for a 30 day visa. The rest of the day was spent going to the ATM, tinkering with the bikes and clothes washing...

The parts I need to make my bike safe again should be waiting there in Douala. Tracy and a friend of Alice Kruuk’s (Pete Stacey) have been absolute starts getting it bought and sent out. Lets hope the bike holds out through the bad roads.

16.2.10 – Day 59 – Ikob – Nigeria

When I arrived in Ikob this afternoon I thought – well, at least I’ve had one hassle-free day on the road! How wrong was I?

Police road blocks were, for the first time in Nigeria, infrequent and the police weren’t armed up with machine guns behind sand bags.

There are some serious power problems here in Nigeria. Many of the fuel stations don’t have diesel or petrol and those that aren’t overpriced have huge tailbacks of cars and mopeds trying to fill up. Quite extraordinary for such a big oil exporter. The electricity is almost never on, so businesses rely almost exclusively on generators to supply power.

Once we arrived in Ikob, Ruben and Christine, the German couple in their 4x4 camper continued to the border and myself and the Swiss couple on the motorbike decided to stay in town. I had a look at the rear swinging arm of the bike (which was damaged in the crash) to find it has a crack 80% of the way round it. Totally unsafe and ready to break at any moment – which would of course end in a crash! So the Swiss tomorrow will carry on to the Cameroon border, whilst I have to find a way to get myself and the bike back to Calibar. From there I hope to take the ferry round the peninsular to Limbe in Cameroon.
I got adopted by a young lad called Paul who tried to help me all afternoon in the heat to find transport for tomorrow. First we headed to the main transport hub – a yard full of a random selection of knackered cars going in all directions – nothing was big enough for the bike. Then we headed to a couple of mechanics yards, full of dust and mechanics doing their best to keep dying cars alive. Eventually we found a minivan that was willing to take its seats out so I can get the bike in. Although tiring, walking around these small towns and meeting the people is always interesting. I met most of Paul’s family on the walks into town. His brothers who work in the plantations, his uncle who sells cars and his auntie.

My favourite religious sticker of the day: ‘shut up – are you god?’

17.2.10 – Day 60 – Calibar, Nigeria
The stresses and strains are really starting to get to me now. I’m emotionally exhausted. I’ve just managed to get the bike back from Ikom, 200km north of Calibar, to the port of Calibar, ready for the ferry on Friday. I managed to strap the bike into the back of the minivan and headed out at 7.30am. We pulled in at a garage and the driver asked for the full 30,000 nidra. I gave him 5,000 for the fuel. To give him the total amount would be a total disaster – I’m guessing I’d never have got here. We passed the check points, some of which he gave money to (bribes) and others he shouted “white man!” and carried on going. Even when the police threatened putting down stinger strips to puncture the tyres. We later stopped again for fuel and again the driver asked for the balance of payment – I gave him another 5,000. I had arranged to drop the bike off at the ferry port, then have my bags and myself dropped at a hotel.

My driver said “you can get a taxi to the hotel”. I said NO. We arrived at the port to be welcomed by a cop in a polo shirt talking about rules and procedure – a direct translation is bribes and extortion. He wouldn’t let me take the bike off the van until I’d paid him 1,000 (cash in hand, no receipt). I called my contact by mobile to come out and meet me by the van. He assured me I’d be causing more trouble for myself if I didn’t pay. My driver tried to get me to pay the rest of the fair so he could disappear – no chance! He then tried to pull me aside from the crowd to exhort more pressure – I refused. Then the guy at the gate wouldn’t open it until I paid 500. The guys who lifted my bike down wanted 2,000 – my contact told them 1,000 between them was plenty. My driver again tried to dump me, but after much shouting and discussing between all the people gathered around, he was forced to take me to my hotel Just as we were leaving, some other guy tried to get more money out of me – I told him to ‘fuck off!’.

When I got to the hotel eventually at about 1pm I realised the driver had hidden my straps that I had used to tie down the bike, so I had to ask for them before I was going to pay him. Cheeky bastard. Then as I went to reception he asks “now for something extra”. I said “you must be joking”. He said “what about something for a beer?”. I said “you must be kidding – if you want more business you should make good business”.

When we were driving back from the port I saw 2 guys in a real fist fight with a bunch of onlookers – I wish one of them was my driver – looser! It’s just that I feel at the moment everyone is out to screw me over – and they seem to be succeeding! It’s difficult when you’re always on the defensive – knowing that people you are dealing with either want to rip you off, extort you, deceive you or steal from you. The most apt description for a white man in these parts is “a walking ATM”.

18.2.10 – Day 61 – Calibar, Nigeria

Well I hope I leave Nigeria tomorrow! I think if things had been different I would have come away from Nigeria with a much more positive view – as it happens, with all the problems with the bike I’ve had to deal with Nigeria’s corrupt systems. It’s like a cancer running through the veins of the country. I was down at the port again today getting tickets for the ferry tomorrow. I was speaking to my contact there who was asking money for the customs officials. I told him about yesterday and all the bribing and lack of receipts from the police. He said “you won’t get receipts from the customs either – this is Africa!” “no, No’” I felt like saying, “this is Nigeria”.

Yet again very close to where I saw a fight yesterday by the docks I saw another fist fight. There is so much inequality here, so much corruption and, it seems, anger. I sense there is a good country at heart here, but I’m just not seeing it at the moment. When I arrived in Nigeria the people seemed so jubilant and full of life and smiles – but down here I just don’t know. The way I’ve been treated by some people just really makes me want to leave. For most of the day I’ve been lying naked under the fan in my room trying to keep cool, reading and waiting for the boat tomorrow. This is the second time in the trip I feel as if I’m in that scene from Apocalypse Now. I’m so glad last night I didn’t buy that half bottle of blended rum for 50p! Hopefully in Douala I can get the trip back on track when the parts arrive for the bike.