• And the winner goes to… A year in reflection December 31st, 2010

    I started the year learning to surf in Morocco and I’m finishing it drinking a lot of beer in Cameroon. Between then I’ve crossed 14 countries in Africa and cycled about 12,000km, collecting more than a few stories along the way. Here is a review of some of the highlights, lowlights and other interesting observations from my year on the road. If there is a category you’d like to add please post a comment to let me know. Happy New year.

    Most atmospheric place: Harper, Liberia. A town full of war-ravaged buildings, surrounded by beautiful palm-fringed beaches.

    North from Harper

  • Beware the Bight of Benin October 29th, 2010

    Beware and take heed of the Bight of Benin. Where few come out but many go in”.

    The distant sound of drums beating late at night was as close as I got to witnessing a voodoo ceremony in Benin. Somewhere in the small coastal town of Quidah people were communicating with the dead. At least that is what I assumed they were doing. What else goes on at voodoo ceremonies?

    I lay in my tent thinking of Sean Connery in the film Live and Let Die; bodies raising themselves out of graves and large snakes coiled around human skulls. My knowledge of the religion, like many others, has of course been distorted by Hollywood films.

  • Likes and dislikes October 25th, 2010

     

    Inspired by recently watching the film Amelie, I decided it would make for an interesting blog post to list all the things I like and dislike about being on the road in Africa. There is no order of preference, and it’s by no means a definitive list.

    I’m writing this from Ouidah, Benin, which is famous for voodoo and slave trading. It’s also possibly my last stopping point on Africa’s Atlantic coast for a long time. I’m heading east and then north again, crossing the border to Nigeria in the not too distant future. I’ll write more about Togo and Benin in the next post.

  • Faking it: Visas in Accra October 14th, 2010

    The best thing about the journey from Cape Coast to Accra is the fruit being sold at the roadside. Lines of stalls overflowing with pineapples and watermelons, and carts filled with fresh coconuts. Forget the glutinous starchy fufu and oily soups, I reckon I could survive on fresh fruit alone in Ghana, and many other African countries for that matter.

    Coconut sellers