Janet's diary. Travelling with Ollie in Africa
BACK TO SENEGAL. Sunday 14th December
Leaving the Gambian border we drove through no mans land to the Senegalese border post, firstly to the Customs and there our luck ran out. The guy who processed our Carnet sat and looked at it for about half an hour and then stamped the exit portion instead of the entry portion, I think must have been the first time he'd seen a carnet. Steve had to show him how to fill it out properly and goodness knows what will happen when we leave Senegal as we now, already, have an exit stamp. Next we visited the police for our passport exit stamp, no problem here and we were on our way by half past one.
There was quite wind blowing which was stirring up the dust and making it very hazy. Once we had got over the bad stretch of road that we had driven a few days before on our way to Gambia we made good time up to Kaolack. Where, this time, we managed to get through the town without getting lost and reached Faitick by 4pm. We were making very good time and there were no police checks, as I've said before it often pays to travel on a Sunday. Things started to hot up a bit just outside Rufisque. There were a lot of Army and Police around and later learned that there had been some political demonstrations but luckily we had missed them. We reached camping W.A.S again at 5.30 and made straight for the bar and a cold beer. Two of the young French lads who were here on our last visit were sitting in the bar, I don't think they had moved since we left last time. Tony was also still here, having trouble with the paperwork for his truck. Just as we were finishing our beer I looked out through the tree's that surrounded the site and saw a yellow Camel Land Rover coming along the road into the site. We rushed out to meet it and yes it was Nick and Sarah. They had just come from St Louis. Back in the UK we had planned to meet up in Morocco but had managed, up until now, to miss each other by a few days at several places since then. This was an excuse for another beer and a chat. By now it was seven thirty and dark, so we all went back to our trucks to set up camp, I then prepared dinner, cheese and onion omelette, mashed potato and beans. The four of sat talking and recounting our various adventures and turned in around midnight. Day 1. Mileage 206
Monday 29th Dec.
Last night I was reminded of how noisy it was camping at Rufisque, something I thought of as having a railway line going through the middle of your house. To make matters worse we are now into Ramadan and prayers are being called from the local mosque for most of the night.
After a 10.30 breakfast, we went into Dakar with Nick and Sarah aboard the number 15 bus. It was a long ride but then we hadn't known that the route of the number 15 took in most of the Suburbs, but it was very educational. The bus did not reach the City centre until a quarter to twelve. As fast as we could we had to make our way to the Malian Embassy. At the embassy the young lady in the office told us that they were closing at 12.30 and we would have to come back tomorrow. The time was now 12.20. We pleaded with her for the forms and told her that we had made a long journey; she very reluctantly gave them to us. We filled these out promptly, which was quite difficult as all the questions were in French, and then handed them back to the girl plus two photo's each plus our Passports and 15,000 CFA. She told us to return before noon on Wednesday to collect our Passports again.
Having completed this errand and once more able to relax we walked a few yards along the road and discovered a very smart, French, coffee shop and bakery. Nick's eyes lit up when he saw all the goodies on display, he obviously likes his food and so far the deprivations of Africa have not made him any thinner. Steve and I just had a coffee and croissant while the other two devoured a large plate of Pastries.
Leaving the coffee shop, we went exploring the city and in independence square we bumped into Tony. He took us to a small bar that had a beer garden at the back. We spent a quiet hour there, over a couple of beers, just talking and discussing Tony's ongoing problems with paperwork and bureaucracy, his problem is a serious one because a friend who travelled down with him has returned to Germany with his Carte Gris (an essential document) in his pocket! While we were there a guy came in with a cage full of small finches, his scheme was that if you paid him he would let one go. A woman at the next table brought one and released it, he approached us but we refused as we reasoned that he would only catch more and perpetuate this cruel practice.
Leaving the bar and Tony we went to a Bank where we changed 600 French Francs in traveller's cheques. Near the bank we came across the "CDV Marine Co" office and so enquired about shipping vehicles from Ghana. The young man that I saw there was very helpful, giving us an idea of prices and size of containers, but he wasn't able to give sailing times as they only work three months in advance. While we were doing this, Steve went back to the AMEX office to enquire if there was any mail for us but once again there was no news from home.
The four of us then went to a small market to buy fruit and vegetables and then took Nick and Sarah to the supermarket that we had found on our first visit. After shopping at the supermarket we decided we'd had enough and would return to the camp, while Nick and Sarah said they would carry on sightseeing. There was the usual at the taxi stop near the Port, but we are getting a little more confident and soon located the taxi for Rufisque. The bus got us back to Rufisque at 4pm and just as we were getting off there was a loud bang. Just beside us, a taxi had crashed into the back of another and his engine had completely fallen out onto the road, I don’t think they have M.O.T here. We strolled up to the market area of Rufisque and brought some bread, the village here is quite fascinating there is always so much going on, noise and bustle everywhere. Returning to the camp site I set about cooking our staple meal, vegetable pasta. Later, when Nick and Sarah came back they told us they had found the Guinea embassy and had applied for visas. We spent the rest of the evening chatting about their trip into the Mauritanian desert. Day 2.
Tuesday 30th December.
After a good nights sleep, despite the Express train and the chanting from the Mosque ,gosh, I must have been tired, we had a little lay-in and then agreed that today would be a day of work. Our next country would be Mali and so I decided that it was necessary to wash the bedding and towels and I didn't know when I would next get the opportunity. Steve set about wiring spotlights up on the roof rack and this turned out to be a longer job than he had anticipated. Nick and Sarah were also doing some maintenance on their "Camel", so there was much gazing under each others bonnets. We had a little giggle to ourselves when they came to re-setting their engine tappets. Sarah did the technical stuff with the spanner while Nick was only allowed to lay underneath with a spanner to turn the crankshaft. A formidable young Lady is our Sarah, nothing like "baby" or "little one", Nicks two pet names for her.
Yesterday I had managed to buy some beef, it was called fillet, but not as we know it and now I was cooking it up into savoury meat stew and a curry. Later when Steve had finished the lights he made a concerted effort to finish the News letter so that we could post it the following day and I gave Ollie a clean out ready for the next leg of our trip. This afternoon three German camper vans arrived, the site is starting to fill up. There always seems to be lot of wheeling and dealing going on around here, the site seems to be a centre for car sales.
Late in the afternoon, just as we having a cup of tea with Nick and Sarah, a white Land rover pulled onto the site. At first I thought it was Matt and Jill. Then I noticed it had German registration plates. No sooner had it parked than a young German couple came over and introduced themselves. Andreas and his wife had just returned from a three week tour in the South west of Mali, they'd had a wonderful time by all accounts. Andreas is a real Land rover freak and believes that Land rovers are the only vehicles for Africa and greatly admired our two trucks.
After a shower I cooked our dinner of Couscous and savoury stew then Andreas and his wife (I can't remember her name) came back and the six of us sat around talking and drinking beer. They were such a sweet couple and so enthusiastic about their trip. We got the maps out and they showed us the route they had taken, it was much the same route that the Germans at camping Sekuta had taken. Andreas's wife was flying back to Stuttgart in the morning and then a friend of Andreas's was flying out from Germany and the two of them were driving back up through Mauritania to Europe. When we went to bed this evening Steve was not feeling at all well. I think he must have caught a cold from the Money changer in Gambia. Day 3.
Wednesday 31st December, New Years Eve.
A good nights sleep for me but not so for Steve, this morning he has a sore throat and is feeling a bit rough. Steve has printed four copies of the News letter, to send home.
At half past nine we walked up to the village with Nick and Sarah and caught a white taxi into Dakar. The journey took over an hour; the traffic was awful this morning (Same as every other morning).
At a cross-roads in the centre of town a traffic policeman was standing on a podium in the middle of the road controlling eight lanes of traffic, which he did in style, waving his arms as if he was conducting an orchestra, it was fascinating to watch. The traffic noise, hooting, people shouting, was deafening and now we were starting to panic as we had to collect our Malian visas by 11.00. Our bus finally reached the Port and we made haste to the embassy.
Arriving at the Embassy at ten past eleven, out of breath, only to be told, by the same girl as before, that we couldn't collect our Visa’s till 2.00. "But you told us to come before eleven" she just shrugged her shoulders. I could see a pile of Passports on her desk and could see ours on top. I asked why we could not take them now. Once more she reluctantly relented and handed them over. (Africa...Africa). We checked them out, they were for a one month stay, valid for three months.
Clutching our newly acquired Visa's we set off for the coffee shop to celebrate with cheese croissants and coffee and we're just tucking into the goodies, when we realised that the couple sitting at the next table were a young German couple that had been staying at the camp site in St Louis when we were there. They were an intrepid pair travelling by bicycle and had also just been to collect their Malian Visa's. They were hoping to cycle to Tambacounda and from there get the train to Bamako. Nick and Sarah left us to go to the Guinea embassy for more visas. At the post office we sent the news letter and some cards and then wandered around shopping for fruit and vegetables etc.
On our way to independence square, where the Amex office was situated, we were hassled in the street by two guys, one had a gold bracelet in a piece of cloth and approached us as if he wanted to sell it to us. They stood one either side of us and the second guy quickly bent down and touched Steve's leg, this was meant distract him while the first guy went into his pocket. We had already been warned of this trick and Steve was ready for them he gave the first guy a sharp dig in the ribs with his elbow and sent him flying while we quickly walked on; you need your wits about you in this City. The Amex office when we got there was closed, so sat in the park nearby until it reopened at 2.30, again, to our disappointment there was no mail for us.
We made our way back to the Port, the place seems to be more chaotic each time we go there. Battling our way through the sea of humanity, jumping over the open sewers and avoiding potholes we located the taxi for Rufisque. It took even longer for the return journey, one and half hours and didn't get back there till 4pm, it had been an extremely hot day and we were both exhausted. I made a cup of tea and Steve went to have a lay down, his cold was getting worse. Nick and Sarah arrived back at 5 o'clock; they have been told they can collect their Visass for Guinea on Friday.
Andreas and his wife came over to say goodbye, he was taking her to the airport but as they drove off their Landy didn't sound at all right. They returned about 15 minutes later, just as we were eating our curry. Andreas was having problems with the gearbox and straight away set about trying to fix the problem which was caused by an accumulation of mud from too many river crossings jamming the gear change. There wasn't time to fix it so we offered to take them to the Airport in Ollie. We hurriedly finished our meal and set off at 8pm. The road was quiet and we got to the Airport by Nine. Andreas said his farewells and by 10pm we were back at the camp site. With only two hours to the new year we sat with Andreas, Nick and Sarah drinking and jawing. At midnight we toasted each other and all our absent
Thursday 1st January 1998.
Got up at 8.30, we have made the decision to leave Dakar today. While packing things into Ollie, Andreas came over and gave us some more information about Mali. This included the address of a camp site on the outskirts of Bamako that he had found in a German overland book. I had a shower and Steve went and paid our bill, 3,600cfa.
At 12.30, after saying farewell to everyone, we drove a little way down the road to a Shell station where we tried to get our Gas bottle exchanged, without success (wrong type). Steve then filled Ollie's tanks with 100 litres which cost 3,320 CFA. As we were leaving the attendant told us to try the gas depot up the road, but when we got there it was closed.
We left Dakar at one pm going in the direction of Theis, Steve's cold is much worse and he is not feeling at all well.
After Theis we headed for Diourbel, getting there at three, it had been a fair road much better than the one to Mbour and Fatick. At Diourbel. I spotted gas bottles like ours on the forecourt of a petrol station but when Steve enquired he was told they were all empty but the chap he spoke to pointed out a small shop a few yards away and there Steve managed to exchange our empty one, for 500 CFA.
The road between Diourbel and Kaolack was pristine and new, what a joy. We reached the small town of Gossas at around four in the afternoon and here we made a detour to avoid Kaolack hoping that maybe we would find a spot to bush-camp on a quieter road. The first part of the road was good but there were lots of villages, very difficult to find a quiet spot. We were stopped by a soldier, manning a checkpoint, and asked for our papers. After checking them, he warned us to be careful as the road ahead was not a good one. He was not kidding, it just got worse and worse. There were still a lot of people and small villages along the roadside and by a quarter past five we were becoming anxious trying to find somewhere for the night. We spotted a clump of trees about fifty metres off the track and drove in behind them.
No sooner had we started getting set up for the night, than we saw a car on the other side of the bush, slowing down, they had obviously seen us, but then they drove on. Once we had made up the bedding inside the truck, Steve decided that as we had been seen, we should move up the road a bit. Ten minutes further on we found another spot, not as good as our last, but then beggars can't be choosers. I quickly cooked some Pasta and Veggie sauce and by the time we had eaten and cleared up it was dark. We piled all our gear up on the roof and lashed it down and then climbed into the truck. I drew the curtains, so that our lights couldn't be seen from the road. It was about 8pm and Steve was feeling really grotty and went to sleep, I read for a while before dosing off. Day 5. Mileage 236.
Friday 2nd January.
It was a very noisy night with Lorries roaring past so I didn't sleep well. Came to at ten to seven, Steve was feeling a bit better. We Had breakfast then loaded Ollie, it takes a while to get back into this bush camping lark, wandering off into the bush with the spade, and all that. But in all a fairly successful camp and only one visitor, a young lad, who just greeted us as he passed by. He wasn't going to hang around as we were eating breakfast and it is now Ramadan.
We were on our way by nine, the road still in very poor condition. After about half an hour we reached the town of Kaffrine and tarred road once again. By now Steve was feeling a bit tired and as the road was quite good, I took over the driving. Every now and then we came across a badly potholed stretch and, like all the other traffic; we would have find the best way through. We were about 20k's from Koungheul when we hit a very bad stretch of road. I was going very slowly trying to avoid the huge potholes.
I was avoiding a particularly huge hole when the next minute there was a loud hooting and screeching of brakes. A huge bus careered past us hitting Ollie on the passenger side. He was going so fast that he went out of control and left the road. The side of the road was quite steep and the bus went over on to two wheels as he went into the bush. Then he lurched back onto the road in front of us, going over onto the other two wheels as he did so and still travelling like a bat out of hell. I don’t know how he didn't turn the bus over. I thought that it was the end of the road for us. The driver of the bus seemed to regain control and carried on driving into the distance. By now I had stopped the truck and and shaking with shock quickly jumped out to inspect the damage, I expected to see the whole left side smashed in and was amazed to see that the damage didn't seem to be that bad. As we were inspecting Ollie a huge lorry came past in the other direction, the driver shouting and waving his fist at us. We looked up the road and saw that the bus had now come to halt and the passengers were spilling out.
Steve made a quick assessment and decided this was not the place to be, we had learnt from other travellers in West Africa that even if an accident is not your fault you always end up taking the blame, there is also the language problem! So, we quickly got back into the truck and with Steve driving, turned round in the road and headed in the opposite direction. He drove for about five kilometres and then turned off down a rough track into the bush. Once we had got far enough from the road and couldn't be seen, we stopped to inspect the damage properly. It was a miracle, the damage appeared to be reasonably light, the bus had hit all the way along the left hand side but fortunately it'd had soft plastic bumpers. The main damage was the initial point of impact at the rear corner and here Nathan's light guards had helped in reducing the damage. Most of the damage appeared to be superficial, the rear door handle was broken and the wing mirror cracked and broken. The bus had also ripped off the plastic dust covers from the wheel bearing. We were both still shaking like leaves; it was hard to believe that we had survived such an impact and still have a drive-able truck.
Without bearing covers the axles were leaking oil so Steve taped them up with Gaffer tape. We now had to make the decision, whether to continue on this road or go back and find another crossing into Mali, this latter option would have meant a very long drive up North so we made the decision to carry on to Tambacounda. We cautiously drove back to the scene of the accident, there was no one in sight, so the bus must have been all right. We stopped and searched at the road side for the two plastic bearing covers, without success. We then, very nervously, drove on towards the town of Koungheul, expecting to be stopped at any time by the police. We reached the outskirts of the town but there were no police in sight, we carried on through the town and out on the road towards Tambacounda. It was another 130 kilometres to Tambacounda and one of the most nerve racking drives of our lives, expecting to be pulled over at every small village that we passed through.
On reaching Tambacounda, we stopped at the first fuel station that we came to and filled up with diesel, we still had another 180 kilometres to go to the border, and then drove very cautiously through the centre of the town. As we were leaving the town we saw a large lorry stopped by the road, a policeman was talking to the driver. When he saw us he signalled for us to pull over and stop. My heart was thumping as he came round to my side of the truck. I did not want him to see the damage so I quickly pointed to Steve in the driving seat, he smiled as he realised we were a right hand drive. He walked round to the other side and Steve handed him our papers, which he took some time looking over. I was sure that he would hear my knees knocking. He spoke to us in French and we said that we could only speak English. He smile handed us our papers and wished us Happy New year. I was so relieved that I quickly got out a packet of cigarettes and gave them to him. We asked him if we were on the right road for Kidira, he said yes and waved us on. I can't tell you the feeling of relief as we drove off. We had really thought our number was up.
We drove for about 40k's along a very bad dirt road and around 4pm we started looking for somewhere to stop for the night. We found a small track leading from the main road and drove into the bush for about 500 metres we were in quite thick bush and decided that we couldn't be seen from the road. While Steve put the tent up I made us a cup of tea. I then organised our beds and cooked dinner. While I was doing this Steve put Ollie up on the jack so as to be able to check for damage to the suspension, he also removed the back wheel. He also discovered that the bus had bent the rim and there was a small cut in the tyre wall, but it was still safe, thank god we have such strong tyres. To be on the safe side he fitted one of the spares. After checking the vehicle over Steve said that he couldn't find any more damage. He then removed the light guard which was in a pretty bent state and also removed the rear lights.
By now dinner was ready so we got on with eating as it was starting to get dark. After dinner it was to dark to do any anymore and so we turned in early with the intention of getting up early to repair the damage properly. I read for a while but couldn't concentrate; I was still keyed up from the day's events. Needless to say I did not get much sleep, the accident kept running through my mind over and over again, I think we were really lucky to emerge from it practically unscathed. Day 6. Mileage 147.
Saturday 3rd January.
We were awake long before dawn, listening for the bird chorus to begin. It was light enough for us to get up at about 6.30. While I prepared breakfast Steve drilled out the rivet's that held the corner bracket to the body panels, then after a quick bite to eat and a cup of tea we began work in earnest. Fortunately we had chosen a deserted spot and could work without interruption. With Steve wielding the lump hammer on the outside and me inside, holding the axe wrapped in cloth, we managed to beat Ollie's panels back into shape. My husband being a true Boy Scout had come prepared for just this kind of job with rivets and filler and after straightening the corner panels he re-fitted the corner bracket with new rivets and filled in the dents with epoxy resin. He then re-wired the rear lights and out of his magic box he produced paint to finish the job off.
While Steve was doing the panel beating I was cleaning off the black marks made by the bus down the side of Ollie. This I did with Parazone bleach, washing up liquid and a scouring pad. Finally Steve , after straightening it out, refitted the rear light guard, taped up the door handle and did his best to repair the wing mirror with gaffer tape and Celotape (a mirror was one spare part we should have brought with us). The bearing caps he replaced with cut down deodorant spray tops, secured in place with gaffer tape. By noon Ollie was looking very much better, but Steve, was now worried that the repairs looked a bit recent so he sprayed the repaired area with WD 40 and threw dust over it. Hopefully this will get us through any more police checks.
We set off for the border town of Kidira just after midday and at first the road was reasonable but after about one and half hours driving it began to get progressively worse, with huge ruts and holes in it. It was a very hot day and we were feeling rather tense, as we were not sure what problems, if any, we would have with the police at the border.
We arrived at the outskirts of Kidira just before four pm and we're stopped at the usual town entry check point. The policeman who stopped us was rather fat but then most West African policemen are, it's a sign of their position in the community. After scrutinising our vehicle papers, while we held our breath, he asked if we had anything for him. In our very broken French We said that we didn't and instead offered him some cigarettes. He seemed quite happy with these and let us enter the town.
Kidira was a dirty ramshackle place with muddy streets; it had all the atmosphere of a town of the old American wild-west. We had quite a time trying to locate the police station, but eventually found it, after a couple of wrong turnings. As we parked Ollie we were descended upon by the usual horde of scruffy children asking for cadeux. It's amazing how, after a few weeks in Africa, you become hardened to these poor little urchins! After telling them to, Allez Vite, we gathered our paperwork locked the truck and with some anxiety we entered the police compound. The police station was a low mud building, with a veranda at the front. Several people were waiting for attention, but as soon as the officer on duty spotted us he beckoned us to the front of the queue. He was most charming and completed the formalities very speedily - what a relief. We then made our way to Customs, here the young man was very understood about the error in our Carnet that had been made on our entry into the country. We left the compound hardly believing our luck and that our exit from Senegal had been so easy.
I decided that I would try and do a bit of shopping before we crossed into Mali. Parking in the main street I went in search of provisions. I managed to purchase the usual staple's that are the main stock on sale in West African shops, a few eggs, tomatoes, onions and bread. While Steve was waiting in the truck the boys that had been at the police station, reappeared and one lad came up to him asking for cadeux. Steve suddenly noticed MMantec" on a sticker across the front of his T-shirt and realised that it was one of our stickers. He leapt out of the truck and tried to grab the miscreant, but he was too quick for him and disappeared up an alley, with the rest of his gang close behind. Steve then inspected the truck and discovered that all our other stickers had also been removed. Poor little urchins!
Just beyond the town a sign directed us to a bridge across the Senegal River and into Mali, a bridge that some guide books stated did not exist, although it did appear to be fairly new and so we left Senegal behind and headed for the Malian border.