Guinea: roof sheep, roof riders, and hood meat. Adventures in the mountains of Guinea to Conakry.

"In chaos there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order." Carl Jung

We had ignored the locals advice about the road to Guinea being impossible to cross, and because of this, we found ourselves on a 160km backtrack through Guinea-Bissau, on our way from the South, up to the North East border with Guinea, near Gabu.

The drive was fast, and again beautiful. We passed countless villages and rice paddies. The roads in Guinea-Bissau, for the most part, are great, so you can make very good time if you need to. The bridges are very impressive as well. Tall arches cross wide rivers and wetlands. The bridges themselves are good, but the roads imedeietly before and after them are somehow terrible, full of potholes, and there is usually a toll booth collecting a small fee. After the ferry fiascos in Gambia, we were more than happy to pay a small amount for a bridge, in any condition. By the evening we had made it past Gabu, and pulled off on a small road to camp.

The road became quite rough after Gabu, mostly mud with large potholes and puddles, so it took a long while to reach the border with Guinea. Leaving Guinea-Bissau was easy. The road between the two borders was in terrible condition, and we actually needed four wheel drive to get over some large rocks in the path. The Guinea officials were very nice, if not slow, with one guard falling asleep during the passport stamping process. Our carnets were filled out by a very knowledgeable customs official, and we continued the slow, rough road, the last 42km to Koundara, our first port of call in Guinea. Slow roads took the rest of the day, but when we reached Koundara, an amazing new paved road greeted us. So smooth! We camped about 16km out of the city under clear skies.

Great roads in the beginning

Beautiful Guinea highway

Chris's wheel bearing didn't enjoy the bad roads and finally decided to go bad. He disassembled it that evening, but was missing one socket he had forgotten to bring. We decided to pick it up in the morning back in Koundara. Jess and I went back the next day, and after some searching, ended up just buying an adaptor from a mechanic's personal tool kit. We returned and soon the blue Panda was as good as new.

The road south towards Labe was great. We had decided to drive through the mountains to reach Conakry, via Labe, Dalaba, and Mamou. We had heard the scenery was beautiful.

We could see mountains in the distance. As hard as it was for to be believe, Guinea was even more beautiful than Guinea-Bissau. The green was just as intense, but now there was rolling hills and dramatic table top mesas with steep cliffs.

Mountains!

Entering Guinea

Near Koundara

The good road continued til about 45km before Labe, and just after a small village, the pavement disappeared, a muddy, bumpy, red dirt track in it's place. We pushed on. The taxis in the mountains deserve a special mention. They are old Peaugeuts station wagons that could hold 4 in the back, and two up front with the driver. They had huge springs put on them, and were lifted, giving them amazing clearance. Inside, there was often 6-7 people in the back, 4-5 up front, and 1-2 in the hatchback. They were loaded with an incredible amount of cargo on the roof. Couches, fridges, beds, food, and motorcycles. The roof cargo was often bigger than the car itself, swaying back and forth wildly as they tore up the road. On top of the cargo was usually 1-3 people and a goat or sheep. Chickens were tied upside down by their feet in bunches of 3-4, hanging off the back window. They would fly over the rocks and holes in the road, honking as they went. It was a sight to see.

The road turned steeper with large rocks in the way. Our cars slowly climbed over them, and we passed through dense forest and a mountain pass. A large truck was stuck, blocking the road, but soon was pulled free by another truck, and we continued. It took us about an hour to go 10km. The map showed another town in 17km. It was getting late, and we did not have much water or food, so we drove on. Finally, after rounding a bend in the road, the paved highway suddenly returned! A large group of children were there and began applauding us, as if they been watching our attempt of the mountain road, and were happy of our safe arrival. We drove to the village, re-supplied, and camped just outside of town.

Mountain pass

Village after the pass

Truck stuck on the mountain road

Sunset after the mountain road

The next day was spent driving towards Dalaba and Mamou towns. The good road continued after the mountain pass till Mamou, then became horrible, some of the worst we had seen so far. Huge, car eating potholes would appear, then short pieces of good road followed, only to decay rapidly again. While driving, a few cars passed with something odd on the hood of the car. "Did that taxi have raw beef just sitting on the hood?" I asked. No, couldn't be, but again and again cars passed us with large piles of beef layed on the hood, or just placed on the roof, with no protection. We came up with theories, maybe they have no bags to transport it, so this was the least messy option? When we asked a driver stopped in traffic, he said, "It is good, the meat is in the sun", and drove on. It was very, very odd.

Hood meat

Roof meat

We drove all day, and only made about 160km. It began to get dark, the traffic of trucks and taxis, combined with bad roads, was exhausting. We found a small side road that led us to a field where we camped for the night.

More bad roads followed in the morning as we made for Conakry. In the afternoon, we finally hit the 4 lane divided highway to the capital. Strangely, large markets appear around us and traffic would stop, vendors selling us fruit and air fresheners out the window. "Did we take a wrong turn?" I asked TJ. We were still on the highway. Conakry is poorly designed for modern day traffic. It is built on a peninsula, about 36km long of dense city, surrounded on 3 sides by water. Most of the government buildings are at the very tip of the peninsula, and there is only one main road in and out of the city. Traffic is unbelievably bad. We found out later, (by being stopped by the police, another very common occurence in Guinea), that on weekends, traffic flows normal. On weekdays, from 7am to 10am, both lanes of the highway are one way into the city, and during the morning rush hours, there is basically no way to quickly leave town, other than small, badly damaged, secondary streets. There is of course, no signs communicating these rules to drivers, hence we more than once found ourselves turning onto roads we had previously driven on, heading directly into oncoming traffic. Exciting!

Outskirts of Conakry

Eventually we took a smaller road, and after hours in traffic, arrived in the part of the city near the Sierra Leone embassy, which we needed to visit for our visa. It was Thursday evening. We found a hotel and crashed for the night.

We were up early the next day to head to the embassy. Upon arrival, a man named 8'oclock, informed us that the embassy was closed due to the Muslim feast. This would explain all the hood meat we saw up in the mountains...I think...as animals are slaughtered to commemorate God providing a ram to Abraham as a sacrifice instead of his son. So we needed to wait til Monday to get our visa. We drove to the catholic mission, and found a cheap, yet very nice room for our time in the city. Maybe someday we will learn not to try for the visa on a Friday, but thus far, it appears not.

"The road is impossible to cross" Southern Senegal to Guinea-Bissau, and a failed border crossing attempt

"Today the world is a big jungle". Roberto Cavalli

We were back in Senegal for a second time after 10 days in The Gambia. We were heading south, towards the Guinea-Bissau border.

The south of Senegal is dense vegetation and wetlands. The green is beautiful. Traveling in the wet season has its own unique challenges, but the countryside seems to be at its best looking!

The border crossing took longer than expected, and it was getting late. We found a small dirt road, and camped in an old gravel quarry for the evening. It was another wet night, but we stayed mostly dry, and no lakes formed around our tents in the night!

We drove to Ziguinchor, a town in southern Senegal where the Guinea-Bissau consulate is located. The streets were mostly flooded, but we managed to find the consulate without much trouble. A nice man asked how many visas we needed and then immediately began filling out the passport stickers. Twenty minutes later, plus the fee, and we had them. If only all the visas were this easy!

We drove on towards the border of Guinea-Bissau and crossed easily. We had gotten supplies in Senegal, and searched for a campsite for the night. We found a road leading into a cashew plantation, and camped under the trees. We built a fire, the trees keeping off most of the rain.

The morning was spent driving to the capital, Bissau. Guinea-Bissau is absolutely beautiful. Small villages lined the mostly decent road, mud homes with grass roofs poked out from behind walls made from bamboo and woven sticks. Green rows of rice in the paddies, wet lands spreading out far into the distance, and birds of all types flying overhead. Huge Kapok trees stood amongst the never ending cashew and mangrove plantations. People walked with babies on their backs and baskets on their heads, waving as we passed. For the most part, other than the capital, the population lives in these small villages.

Quiet roads

Guinea-Bissau roads

Bissau was a nice surprise. Having never heard anything about this country, we had no idea what to expect. African capitals, from my previous experience, tend to fall into the very nice, or quite rough categories, the same as any city I suppose. As we arrived in the outskirts, we saw well kept buildings, very spaced out in comparison to other cities we had seen so far. Traffic was stop and go for a short time, but the markets on both sides of the road were a good distraction. The city is not large, and were soon in the center, among old Portuguese style homes with red tile roofs.

We found the Guinea embassy to get our visa, but the ambassador was working from home. The secretary said it would be faster to drive to the ambassadors home to make the visas, as we needed his signature. Chris volunteered and soon returned with the approved forms. Both visas for Guinea-Bissau and Guinea were remarkably easy to get!

We stayed two nights in the capital, wandering the old town, taking in a local football match, and a day trip out to the Isle do Rei island, a short distance off the coast. A nice relaxing time.

In our hotel in Bissau

Chris and Jess on the boat to Isle do Rei

Isle do Rei island

Bissau sunset

Bissau

Bissau

We planned on leaving to Guinea through the southern border, near a place called Candembell. The drive was beautiful, passing through more wet lands, forests, and villages. A full days drive brought us to Quebos, where customs stopped us. We told them our plan to cross the southern border, and they said the border road was bad, impossible to cross in the wet season. They also stamped an exit stamp in our passports, but not a true immigration stamp. They said if we reached the border, that the immigration official there was not very experienced, and this stamp would help them understand what they needed to do. Weird.

It was 18km on a worn, flooded, dirt track through dense jungle to the the town of Candembell. We waded through puddles to test the depths. Our cars did great! We arrived in a tiny collection of houses after dark. We asked for a place to put up our tents, and were taken to a man's house. Most of the village turned out to watch us set up tents on the porch of the home, and cook dinner. Everyone was very friendly and polite, and we slept well, staying very dry in the large storm that evening.

Evening drive to Candembell

Candembell village

Into the jungle

Camping in Candembell village

Heavy rains made for huge rivers

Jungle roads

In the morning, we found the immigration official, a very polite man who seemed entirely competent at his job. The border was a further 2km through the jungle, and if we made it, which we were told we would not, we should have the small border outpost call the immigration official, and he would take a motorcycle to the border to stamp our passports out of the country. A very smart plan!

The road got worse, mud, water, ruts. Soon we reached a small village, half a kilometer from the border post. The road dissappeared under water, a swamp in it's place. There was no going around, this was the end of our road. We turned around and started the 160km towards the north east border, near the town of Gabu. An amazing drive through the jungle, none of us regretted our attempt!

"It's nice to be nice". Gambia, police checks, and robbery!

The Gambian coast

"Doesn't the fight for survival also justify swindle and theft? In self defence, anything goes". Imelda Marcos

"Hey, how are you? Are you selling your car?". This seemed to be the standard Gambian greeting upon arriving the the seaside suburb of Bakau, Gambia. 

Everyone wanted to be our "friend". The area we had chosen to stay in was inexpensive, and had lots of what many locals called "gangsters". While it was not the best part of town, it was nice, close to restaurants and bars, and had a very relaxed atmosphere.

Romona guesthouse

Bakau streets

Bakau

Sewer crocodile in Bakau

We spent a few days relaxing, taking showers, reading, doing laundry. We applied for our Nigerian visas as well, and got to meet the high chancellor who said he would give us the visa. We had heard this was a difficult one to get, so we were very pleased. We could pick it up on Tuesday, and it was Friday when we applied, so we had the weekend to go exploring.

Our car was having alternator issues again, and we took the opportunity to get a new, used, one. Our car was working great again! We decided to drive upcountry, to the east, and see what Gambian life outside the capital was like. Our goal was the Stone Circles, near the town of Wassau.

Leaving Banjul, we passed tiny villages with grass roofs and wandering goats. We came to the second of four ferry crossings in the country. We decided to see if we could cross, as the stone circles we wanted to see were on the north side of the river. "You should easily be able to cross by evening!". It was 10am. No way, not again. We drove further east. We camped on the outskirts of a tiny village, the locals waving as they walked by.

Gambian market

Gambian roads are good

Spotted this guy in a wildlife sanctuary near Banjul

Typical Gambian highway scenery

We continued east, reaching the third ferry crossing in the country. We were in a sleepy town named McCarthy. There was about five large trucks and a few cars waiting for the ferry. It looks promising. We asked about the ferry. It could carry one truck at a time. They thought it would take about 4-5 hours to cross. It was a narrow crossing as well, we could see the other side. No thank you. The ferries in Gambia are a challenge. It is very surprising in a country dominated by a river. We decided to simply head back towards Banjul.

The third ferry in the country

Got some great new seat covers in McCarthy

We drove off the road and made camp that night. Around 1am I awoke to a pouring rain, and about 2 inches of water inside my tent. I opened my tent and found a small lake had formed where we had set up camp. I packed up my gear and abandoned the tent. I slept in the car. The morning was wet. We had somehow chosen the absolute worst spot to pitch our tents. We were lucky and got some sun to dry out our wet gear. We packed up and made for Banjul.

Lake camping

Camping outside a small village

Driving in Gambia is nice, the country is lush and green, and the roads are good, but it truly incredible how many police checkpoints are crammed into such a tiny country. They all wanted to see something different, passports, insurance, drivers licence. Every other one would ask for a gift, "What have you brought for me?". We were polite and just smiled, never giving anything other than a smile. The drug police searched our car again, saying my Tylenol was illegal, then shut the door and said we needed to "negotiate" a way we could resolve this situation without calling their boss. We played along for a short time, but quickly grew tired and started to offer to make him coffee. Confused, he gave me back the pain killers and said he enjoyed how we had negotiated the situation, and sent us on our way. All in total, in about 500km, we had 70 police checks over two days. Very impressive Gambia.

We arrived back in Bakau, checked back into the same hotel, Romona guesthouse, ready to pick up our Nigerian visas the next day, and try for the Ghanna visa after.

After taking a shower, I went out to pull money from the ATM. None of the three in the area were working, so I drove to one. Thinking back on this, I must have been watched, as none of the ATM's were inside, just on the outside wall of the bank. I drove the car to a bank further away, and pulled out money, then slept early that evening.

We woke up to the night security worker, Noah, telling us that our room door was broken and two of our car document bags were outside. We lay there for a second, confused, then got up to investigate. I immediately saw that my money pouch I keep on my belt beneath my pants, was open, and papers were scattered about. I looked through it, and all the cash was gone, about $1500, the money I had brought for visas in west Africa. My personal bag that I kept my wallet and camera in was also gone. I told Noah we had been robbed, and he said he had found one more bag, my personal one. The camera and wallet were there, but all the local cash was gone. I thought it could be the Noah who stole it, but changed my mind quickly. It dawned on us that someone had broke open the door quietly, came in and taken our stuff from the room while we slept. They knew exactly what to take, and where it was. Noah had never seem my money pouch, but someone on the street had, most likely when I was getting out my bank card at the ATM the previous day. I had tried to be stealthy about it, but obviously was not.

We dressed, checked the car, and went for breakfast. Afterwards we went to the police station. They took our statements, looked in our hotel room, and got our contact details. The rest of the day was spent cleaning the car and just feeling low.

The next day we picked up our Nigerian visas and searched for the Ghanna embassy. After searching and searching, we found a house where the embassy should be. An elderly woman informed us that the embassy had "died", about 20 years ago. So we gave up on getting the Ghanna visa till Liberia.

Leaving Gambia was easy enough. When entering Senegal, a very angry border guard tried to tell Chris and Jess that they needed a visa to enter Senegal, even though they had been stamped in before without one. He was very insistent that they return to Gambia and get a Senegalese visa. We waited around, smiled lots, and soon he made a phone call, and eventually stamped them into the country, saying we knew nothing about crossing international borders.

Back in Senegal! Our goal was the southern border with Guinnea-Bissau, and continuing our voyage down the coast!

"You will definitely cross today." Leaving Senegal and crossing into The Gambia

"I have always loved to sit in ferry and railroad stations and watch the people, to walk on crowded streets, just walk along among the people, and see their faces, to be among people on street cars and trains and boats." Ella R. Bloor 

Leaving Dakar, we headed south, making our way down the coast on good roads with few cars. We camped on a deserted beach, chatting with the local shepard boys in the evening who came to watch us make dinner.

The next day saw us passing into the Sine-Saloum river delta, a maze of small and large streams emptying into the sea. We decided to drive on some of the smaller roads we saw on our navigation program. The roads were just paths in fields, crossing streams and sometimes disappearing all together. We passed through tiny villages built around enormously​ baobab trees, grass roofed round houses with woven stick walls surrounding the villages. Women raced to our car from a field, immediate asking for a cadeaux (present). We were not sure what to think of these situations we encountered in the small towns. We asked names, exchanged greetings, and continued on our way. At night we camped on a river bank among a herd of cows. It rained most of the evening, but we slept well.

Delta camping

Off the beaten path in Senegal

Palm trees in the delta

Camping in the delta

Continuing south, we arrived at Joal-Fadiout, an island made entirely out of shells. The shells were in the streets, as well as in the walls of the buildings. A half muslim, half christian graveyard had large piles of shells covering the graves. Good building material it would seem.

Bridge to the cemetery

Shells everywhere!

Shells covering graves

A few days of exploring the delta later, and we finally crossed into the tiny country of The Gambia. Leaving Senegal was simple, just the usual fixers trying to help and earn some money. Entering The Gambia was equally as easy. We got our visas at the border, and had our carnet filled out for the car entry. Soon after the border, we were pulled over by the Gambian drug agency. They spent about an hour searching our cars and luggage. They were very pleasant and professional, always wanting one of us present to witness what they were doing.

The Gambia is a narrow country, basically only existing a small amount to the north and south of the river Gambia. There are 4 ferry crossings along the river for cars, and no bridges as of yet. We wanted to cross the river to the capital, Banjul, which is just on the south side, where we were planning on applying for the Nigerian and Ghanna visas.

We arrived at Bara, on the north side of the river, where it empties into the sea. The crossing is 7km by boat. We saw cars and trucks backed up, a long line, small shops lining each side of the road, and people everywhere.

Jess and I walked up to the office to purchase tickets. Cars were lined up on both sides of the road, two more lines of cars tried to force their ways in from a 4 way intersection, fixers offered their services. We buy tickets and ask how long to cross, "You are very lucky, you will definitely cross today! We have two of the three ferries working, and one is the new one.". It was 2pm when we first arrived, on Saturday.

We joined the line. Fixers would tell us when to move up in line. Often we would see new Land Cruisers and BMW's cutting the line, having paid more to the correct people. We were determined to pay only the ticketed price. So we waited. Hours passed, we barely moved. I played ukulele, talked to vendors. The fixers stories went from, "You will definitely cross today", to, "You will maybe cross today.". The line stopped moving. One of the ferries, the new one, had broken down. The old ferry took about an hour each way. "You will be on the first boat tomorrow!". At about 11pm, we finally crossed into the gated area were cars would wait to be loaded, but the service was finished for the evening. We slept in the cars next to a herd of goats and the public toilets. It was a hot, mosquito filled evening.

We ended up finally getting onto the third ferry of the morning, about 10:30am. The boat was packed full. Sheep, goats, cars, trucks, motorcycles, and hundreds of people. The ride itself was nice. A cool sea breeze, interesting scenery on the coast and good people watching on the ferry. By the time we arrived in Banjul, it was almost noon. We had spent nearly 24 hours waiting to cross the river. We thought for sure that a country that is basically just a river, would be masters of crossing it, but it was absolute chaos.

We drove to a nearby suburb of Banjul named Bakau, checked into a cheap hotel, and collapsed for the rest of the day.

Bara ferry line

Goats everywhere in the ferry port

Our home for the night in the ferry port

Finally on the ferry

Crowded ferry to Banjul