Nearly pushing things to far

Packing up camp Sheraton

While changing to the new tyres I found another problem with my bike.  After the guys stripped the thread for the bolt on my front wheel in Morocco I had to have a new tread drilled for the bolt.  What I found out when removing my front wheel was that the bolt has worked its way into my front fork, so now I am slowly leaking fork oil.  Not much, but a little every day.
The only way to really fix it is to get a new front fork, is not going to be possible until I am in SA.  Because it wasn't leaking before I was sure that I just needed to tighten this bolt to the same point as before and it will stop leaking.  BUT, if I overdo it now and strip the bolt again I will loose all my fork oil, and wont be able do drill a new thread.  As this bolt keeps my front wheel in alignment I am stuffed without it.

Shopping for camping food

In Abuja I tightened it as much as I was happy to do, but it kept on leaking.  Not very fast, but still to fast.   Over a couple of days I have tightened this bolt.  Slowly, a fraction of a turn at a time, and I am now at the point where I don’t want to tighten it any more, needs to much force.  The leaking oil is down to drops, acceptable.  Bike is limping a bit but it is nothing serious, its a problem we can bush mechanic as long as I don’t strip the thread for the bolt.  Fingers crossed I don’t need to take my front wheel off too often.   My floating rear brake system has seized, meaning that only one of my rear brake pads work when I use the back brake. Not serious, but I loose a bit of stopping power.

The Nigerian people have been so fantastic that we both where very eager to see more of the country.  Not to far from us was the Josh plateau, supposed to be a spectacular drive and we where both very keen for it.  The problem was that it takes you very close to Josh.  One of the trouble hotspots in Nigeria.  I didn’t want to go into Josh.  The road turns off about 20km before and then heads south (away from the trouble) through the plateau to Cameroon.  We decided to speak to the police and see if it was safe, happy to skip the route if there was any signs of trouble.  The policeman we spoke to was great and said there has been no trouble for a couple of weeks and since we are turning off south just before Josh everything should be ok. He was persistent to point out that things could change quickly and we should keep our ear to the ground.  He was very clear to warn us not to go more north east than Josh.  He also gave us the name of a hotel that according to him would stay standing even if the whole city burns down.  The Hill Top Hotel.  Sounded good to us and we headed towards Josh and the plateau the next morning.

Getting out of Abuja was hard work, the traffic was phenomenal, but we quickly left the fake European city feel some Africa.  Was great to be on the road again after what felt like ages.  About 2 hours before Josh, Morton commented that things felt strange. ‘’It doesn’t feel like Africa anymore.’’  I just thought we may have had to many off the Sheraton luxuries and needed to get used to the rhythm of Africa and the road again.  We continued but suddenly there was an immense amount of road blocks.  Every 5-10 km, and even more coming in and out of towns.  We told the police we where going to Josh and they where happy to let us pass.  It wasn’t until we came closer to the turn off that we asked the police about the road through the plateau and they immediately became very worried.  There has been some out breaks off violence in two of the towns right at the beginning of the plateau road.  More than 100 people injured and undisclosed amount killed.  It happened that morning, and the road was closed to all traffic for 24hrs.  Ah shit!!  We where forced to go to Josh, and stay in the Hill Top Hotel.  Exactly what I didn’t want to do, but the safest option. 

About 10km outside Josh we drove past a burnt out car with the grass around it still smouldering.  I was starting to feel very uncomfortable.  I didn't want to stay in Josh, but the police where very adamant that this would be the safest.  I wasn’t going to go against the police but I still felt uncomfortable.  Riding in Josh was a bit eerie.  Everything was running as normal but none of that Nigerian openness was on display.  In town we where passed by a convoy of police trucks, blasting past with a load full of prisoners and police on the back.  The police had guns aimed at the prisoners chests.  Looked VERY serious!

The Hill Top was a dump of an hotel, but it is the one the police and army used, and it was right next to a huge army special forces compound.  Definitely the safest place to stay so we stayed there.  The next morning we where told the plateau road was open and everything was back to normal.  Not wanting to back track we decided to continue down the plateau.  The first part off the plateau road was one off my strangest African experiences.  Nothing happened to us, it was just very un-African.

The first big town we passed (Barakin Ladi) was the main one where the violence happened.  Arriving into the main road through town it was dead quiet.  Not a souls in sight.  The stalls where all closed, very little traffic, and no people walking around.  It looked like a ghost town, with everything shut and boarded.  This is not the way Africa is, Africa is very alive in the morning, and usually running at full steam by this time.  A little down the main road we passed the police station with about a thousand people milling outside.  Not looking for trouble, but safety.  A big proportion of the town spend the night outside the police station.  A couple of hundred meters further was an old car junk yard, with a big number of wrecks for the size of the town.  Most where pieces of junk, but about half where either burnt out or riddled with bullet holes.  Not good for my uncomfortable and eerie feeling, but again the police at the road block said it was safe to continue.  This town was so strange and out of place, like something out of the twilight zone.

The next big town was back to normal, or at least it looked like it.  Full of people going about their normal daily chores, but it still lacked something.  In hind sight I think the open friendliness was gone.  People looked very suspicions of us foreigners.

The third big town was the other one where the violence occurred the previous day.  The route took us around the outskirts and everything looked to be back to normal.  The uncomfortable feeling still stayed though.  I couldn’t put my finger on it and didn’t have a specific reason but things just felt very wrong, and I have been feeling like this for nearly a day.  I was reaching the point where I started regretting taking the scenic route.

Boabs are back.  Stunning

Just a couple of kilometres after the town we went down a pass, and everything changed.  The landscape changed to rolling hills, with huge boabs and fantastic fields of crops against steep rocky hills.  The attitude of the people also changed significantly.  As soon as we reached the bottom of the pass people started waving and smiling again.  I was extremely relieved to get rid of that weird feeling.  We where back in Africa, and it was stunning.

I was amazed at how obvious the change in peoples attitudes was in areas of violence.  How easily friendly and open people can become extremely suspicious.  And then how suddenly things turn back to normal, but I was very glad to have normality return.

The riding for the rest of the day was fantastic.  Could feel my shoulders lighten as we moved away from Josh.  The day ended with a fantastic river crossing on some big ‘ferries.’ (What the locals called them)  They where actually nothing more than big wooden pirogues with a ramp to load the bikes.  The start was quite hairy as we had to reverse the heavy bikes down a steep sandy bank onto the ramp.  The boat trip itself was fantastic, with great scenery and chatty locals on board.  It turned into a photo frenzy, with both us and them taking lots of photos.  Was funny to be on the receiving end of the lens for once.

The 'big ferry'

We spend the night in nothing more than a little highway town, Wukari, but for some reason we both liked the town immensely.  Amazingly friendly locals, and our dinner turned out to be a culinary feast with really well cooked food.  We even had salad and veggies.  A rare event for us, and we wolfed down every last scrap.  I  couldn’t help going to  bed with a smile on my face.

The next day was the last stretch to the Cameroon border.  Just more than 300km and it should have been an easy days drive.  But the police road blocks made a huge comeback,  We passed 4 within the first 10 kilometres and 26 in total for the day, and where stopped at about 20 of them.  Our easy ride turned into a bit of a PR marathon, but nothing we couldn’t handle.

All loaded on the ferry

Washday - pots, pans, cutlery, clothes and children
all at the same time

The road block has made a big comeback in the last month or so.  In Mali the police was pretty chilled out, but the locals set up road blocks along the main roads.  Not to stop us, but the big busses so they will have time to sell their goods to the passengers.  Was brilliant.  In Togo it was the locals again but this time they where trying to catch foreigners.  Anyone who worked on the road in any way would tie a piece of rope across the road and then try and get foreigners to pay them for fixing the road.  Funny that the locals who used and ruined the road where never stopped.  The best was where they felled a big tree across the road, and asked for money for clearing the path, or kids standing with shovels next to potholes saying they where just about to start working.  None of these where serious and a quick joke or friendly chat always got us off.  A couple of times we even said the bike behind us is the one with all the money, and whoever was at the back would have to sweet talk himself out of paying.

Kids fishing

 In Nigeria the police road blocks made a big comeback, but it was still not as bad as expected.  Very few asked for anything, but once in a while someone would ask for ‘something to remember you by.’  Again a friendly handshake or a ‘big smile’  would nearly always get you past.  We have been through so many road blocks that we have a semi system going.  If the police are lazing at the side of the road, slow down, wave friendly and pass.  If they are closer again wave friendly, greet them and ride, only stop if they clearly show that they want you to stop.  When they stop you stay in the middle of your lane, only go to the side of the road if they are very persistent.  The locals are not very patient and want to pass.  They hassle the police a lot if they take along time with you blocking the road.  Again always give everyone a friendly greeting and shake the hand of the guy closest to you.  They love this, and after giving some compliments and  friendly banter you get to drive away.  Try your best to fill any silences, that is when they start asking for documents and presents.  If the question comes for a present we usually make a joke or say ‘a big smile,’ and we are very persistent that we don’t pay.  Don’t stay to long, wish everyone a good day (showing you want to go), shake some hands and leave.  Always be VERY friendly and open, give the police respect, but firm in steering the conversation away from unmentionables.  Our system seems to be working we don’t get stopped to much, and when we do its just a bit of friendly questioning.  We sometimes manage to go days without showing our passports, and even longer times without showing our other paper work.  This has worked well in West Africa, but we think Central Africa is going to be a bit of a different story.

Bucket showers becoming the norm
no running water

I am also convinced that the police have a lot off pressure from higher powers to not hassle the tourists as much as they used to.  This has definitely counted in our favour.  Every where we go I see people paying the police.  Many times the police don’t even want to take bribes in front of us, or try and hide it.  But we have been through so many road blocks we don’t miss it.  A small minority are so nonchalant they count their bundle of notes while waving us past.  Even if we as westerners don’t pay, the locals are still paying.  The coke truck gives a bottle of coke, the bread van gives bread, fruit truck gives fruit or just some money.  The only reason I see this happening is if the powers above ordered the police to clean up their act in front of tourists.

Morton's bike gets a new owner

Crossing the border into Cameroon was a breeze.  We used a busy border crossing and where warned to expect long delays, but to our amazement it turned out to be Sunday and the crossing was dead quiet.  We flew through with only one guard hinting at ‘something to remember you by.’  A big smile did the job.  We made it through Nigeria without paying any extra money.  My stack of $1 bills are unused.

Back in the forests.  Whoop whoop.

Next was the forests of Cameroon and the infamous Ekok-Mamfe road.  I was super excited.  Little did I know that my stamina and reserve would soon be tested to the max…