11th May - The Road to Mali-Ville

After our non-eventful day yesterday, while I convalesced, we started early this morning, when I got up at 7:15 to top up the gearbox oil on the truck. The good news is that the gearbox oil isn't leaking much; the bad news was that the exhaust mounting which I tried to repair has gone again, and the leaky front hub seems to be leaking just as much, if not more, now it has One Shot Grease in instead of EP90. Colvin found some strong wire which I used to re-bodge the exhaust mounting; it's lasted all day, so we reckon it will probably withstand nuclear attack.

We bade our guide farewell, as he is involved with an animal counting project a university is doing at the park, and couldn't join us today; so much for getting eaten by lions! He suggested we left the hotel and headed back north to Tambacounda, then round the park anticlockwise and south to the border. However, Nicki pointed out as we left that this represented way further than the point-to-point distance we needed to do, as we'd have to more than double back on ourselves. So we reversed back up to the hotel, consulted Colvin, the guide and others, and decided to drive across the border through the national park itself, on a rarely-used road.

The first step in our journey was to head for the leopard cage, which we weren't sure we'd be able to find easily. After one wrong turn, we did actually find it, but it was more by luck than judgement, as we thought we were on a different track. From there we were to cross a log bridge across the Gambia River, which is a series of large puddles in this season. We had to wait whilst some workers used the bridge to fill up their oil cans with water, but then we headed across. The bridge is a series of gravel mounds, bridged by palm trunks, which are cemented in place. As I drove across, I thought of the 5 tonne weight of the truck, but it all held OK.

Just past the bridge, a tree had fallen across the track. Some other vehicles had driven around it, but I couldn't fit past in the 101, so I got out my trusty towrope, shackled one end to the tree and the other to the tow hook on the front bumper, and reversed it out of the way. The pulling power of the 101 did the job effortlessly.

The track from here was relatively easy to follow, albeit a little varied in quality. We drove for an hour or so before we reached a military post in the middle of the forest, where the soldiers were somewhat surprised and apparently quite thrilled to see us. They asked us for a lift to the next post, but we were reluctant to, so then they asked if we could take a package down to the next post for them. It could have been dodgy – we didn't really know what was in the package, although they said it was some medicinal thing from a tree, and it looked like that – but we obliged anyway. About 20km later we reached the next checkpoint, where a soldier was expectantly waiting for his delivery (they'd radioed ahead).

From this point we took the track that crossed the border, and it was immediately clear that this track doesn't get used much, and hadn't been used for some time. In places it was quite hard going, and you'd certainly need a 4wd to drive it. There were ditches, dips, hill climbs, boulders and gulleys. Moreover, it was quite overgrown, and something the size of the truck could only make progress by bulldozing some of the trees and shrubs as it went through. At one point we had to detour around a large fallen tree, and just had to run over one tree outright to make our way past.

The landscape varied quite a lot, from mature palm and mango trees to smaller, verdant trees, and in some places scrubby heathland. We didn't see much in the way of animal life, apart from some duiker, wild goats and a few warthogs. There are starlings here that blow your mind – they are a really vivid iridescent blue, and slightly smaller than magpies. I tried to photograph them, but they always flew off at the crucial moment.

We crossed a couple more log-bridges, including one which was quite decrepit, and I wasn't sure whether it would take our weight. I tried to pick a route across the strongest logs, and Nicki got out to video it using the digital camera. Unfortunately, her frantic hand-waving to direct me accordingly got in the way of the video! It was pretty close, the back end did sort of go through some of the logs, but we came through unscathed.

We could see our path through the park on the laptop screen, and around mid-day we reached what was nominally the border, although you couldn't really tell, apart from at one point there was a faded sign. If anybody has used this road within the last month, I'd be surprised. We passed through a little settlement of concrete buildings, some with chairs outside, and with water and oil tanks, in the middle of the forest, but it appeared to be totally deserted. We tooted our horn in case it was a sleepy border post, but nobody appeared. Finally, several hours after leaving the hotel, we started seeing small, round, thatched huts, which marked the beginning of the first village in Guinea.

We found the first police checkpoint, and they seemed happy with our passports, although they didn't stamp anything. They were puzzled as to why we had no Senegalese exit stamp in our carnet, of course this was because we had entered Guinea without passing any border posts, so couldn't get our documents stamped. A little further down the road, we were stopped at a Customs point, where the junior officer in the first office in the building was incredulous that we didn't have the stamp, so passed me on to the next most senior person in the next office; he couldn't deal with it either, so I worked my way through the building to the man in charge, who stamped our carnet for entry into Guinea.

Immediately in Guinea we found the people friendly and warm; more outwardly cheerful than the Senegalese, and many of them wave to us and call greetings, particularly in the more remote areas. Ethnically they look different than the people we've seen until now, as well.

We reached the first town of note, Koundara, and stopped at a petrol station. Unfortunately, they'd run out of petrol, but they did change our US$ into Guinean Francs for us! They also sold us some cold drinks. Until you've spent days drinking bottled water at 40° that is itself also 40°, you can't really appreciate how appealing a cold Sprite can be. In fact, I'd cheerfully give a tenner for one right now.

We decided to head for Mali-ville, a town on the top of a mountain, which has no running water or electricity, but apparently has fabulous views and is pleasantly cool! We could see roads to it on our maps, but of course you don't know what they'll by like until you get there. The first bit of road was quite hard to find, and we had to ask about 6 people for directions, all of whom were very friendly, polite and helpful. We eventually found a nice gravel piste, but it was peppered with potholes which meant I couldn't relax for long if I didn't want to end up catapulting the truck through the air. To get to the first village along it took a good hour, and according to the map, it wasn't very far at all!

We stopped and bought bread (about 6p) and 5 mangoes (about a penny each) and ate them in the village. The villagers were obviously quite curious to see us, but were polite and didn't impose at all. One youngster came up to us carrying a white baby, for our inspection, but we couldn't work out whether it was a Caucasian child, or an albino African, of which there are quite a few around, and we couldn't think of a polite way to ask. The village was scattered under an avenue of huge trees, forming a shady canopy over the main street.

Onwards we went, along a similarly mixed track, until it started to degenerate. As we drove we were amazed to find people in the middle of nowhere, carrying goods, riding bikes, or just walking down the road. They would have had so far to go to get anywhere! One village was very busy and colourful, as it was market day, and there was a cheerful atmosphere for some distance around. The landscape here is far from desert, being mainly small forests, shrubs and scrubland, with a few small rivers dotted around. In some of the rivers children were playing and washing; they also seemed to congregate around the village pumps.

As we hit the foothills, the road took a turn for the worse, and became most definitely 4wd only (although you see Peugeot 505 taxis in so many strange places, I kept expecting to be overtaken by one). We climbed laboriously up the side of a hill, which Nicki was not keen on as she does not like heights. By now we were well off the beaten track, even by local standards, and at one river the handful of children playing gave us a hearty cheer! In a couple of tiny villages we stopped to talk to people, to check we were on the right road. The Guineans are a most welcoming people.

We stopped to refuel from our jerry cans, and when I climbed up on the roof I found we had a good proportion of the total vegetable life of the national park up there. The roof vents were full of foliage and one had nearly been ripped off. The end of the awning has been damaged – I think it'll still work fine, but I'll try to get a replacement end cap when we get home. I had to sweep a couple of bin-bags worth of foliage off the roof before I could get to the jerry cans.

On a particularly bumpy piece of road, when we were in low gearbox with the diff locked, a large bump catapulted Nicki into the air, and on re-entry she cracked her elbow on the door, causing her some pain and a temporary loss of feeling in her fingers. It's not great, but Ibuprofen have made her feel a bit more comfortable about it. Her fingers are now fine, I'm glad to report.

It was clear we weren't going to make Mali-ville by darkness, as we were moving at about 20kph on most parts of the track. We decided to camp just before darkness, but as the sun started to set, we arrived in a relatively large village (ie a hundred people). A barrier stood across the road, and after we tooted a youth appeared on a bike; then another chap came up, looking just like the M*A*S*H Colonel off the TV, but African; and shortly afterwards we had about 8 men around us, all talking cheerfully and keen to know what we were up to. I couldn't understand why they wouldn't let us through the barrier, and wanted to find out what we needed to do, but in the end it transpired they weren't really waiting for anything, they were just interested and keen to talk to us! So we got through the barrier, took the road that cut across the football pitch (interrupting the game in the process), and about 20 minutes later pulled off the road to camp wild.

It's still warm out – I'd say it's in the 30s now and the sun has been down for a few hours. The truck, of course, remains hot, because as fast as it loses heat, it's warmed up again by the engine and gearbox, which take hours to cool. Nicki cooked us soup for dinner (neither of us fancied much more), and I sat outside to read, which is where I am now writing the blog. It's dark, the moon is full, and earlier I could hear animals wandering around the forest nearby, probably cows. Occasionally somebody has cycled or walked up the road nearby, but if they've seen us, which they will have from our lights and torches, they've ignored us. A few paragraphs ago I had to move my chair a bit because ants had started investigating my feet.

As I typed earlier I was aware of a noise, rather like the noise of somebody rooting through corrugated aluminium sheeting; I couldn't work out what it was. It's been going on for an hour or more. Suddenly, it started to get louder, and was accompanied by a roaring noise. I was slightly concerned that it might be a forest fire, but there are no flames or smoke to be seen. The roaring got louder, and sitting here on my own (Nicki's in bed) I wondered what sort of unearthly experience I was about to have as it got closer and closer! It's actually the wind in the palm trees, which makes quite a racket. What's odd is that for an hour or so the wind was a few hundred yards away, and where I am was totally silent, and then suddenly it enveloped our little area. The area covered by the wind keeps advancing and receding, and we're now right on the boundary, which is a slight shame, as anything which makes things cooler is good by me.

Tomorrow we press on to Mali-ville, which I hope is cool, as we're not going to be able to buy a cold Sprite there!