Hour 1: New Years Day
Slightly
hung over, our journey begins with a 7 am phone call to quickly get to the car
park because our car has filled and it’s leaving leegi leegi (now now)!
Hours 2-5: Basse Car
Park
After
inhaling some bean sandwiches the size of Carly’s torso, we wait…and wait… and…wait,
wasn’t our car full?
Hours 6-7: Really
Full, like full full
Our
car is finally full! We’ve paid
for an extra seat giving us three seats in the middle row of the
“sept-place”. Normally, these cars
seat 7 people (hence the name) and the driver: one up front, three in the
middle, and three in the hatch-back part of the converted station wagon, which
has been outfitted with luxurious seats.
However, this is no normal travel.
This is a “quinze-place”: three up front (not including the driver),
four in the middle (in our case only three because we’re assholes), four in the
trunk seats, two more behind the trunk seats (the way, way back, if you will)
and two on top. It’s cool though,
it’s only like a 17 hour ride.
Hour 8: Border x-ings
The
people on the top and in the way, way back have to get out and walk across all of
the border crossings because clearly it would be unsafe and illegal for that
many people to be in one car. Everyone else gets out of the sardine can and waits for just us three
toubabs (remember, the ones with all the room? The assholes) to get our passports
stamped. Africans do not need
visas to go from country to country, so had we not been there, they could have
been on their merry way much more quickly. But alas, we are there, so all 12 of them had to wait for
the customs officers to painfully slowly write out all the information in our
passports and visas.
We
get back in the car, only to repeat this process 6 more times. I’m still confused as to why there so
many checkpoints as we only crossed two borders. The whole affair definitely added at least two hours to the
journey. If the rest of the people
in the car didn’t hate us at first, they absolutely do now.
Hours 9-15: Ridin’ dirty…literally
At
some point we leave what little paved road we once had. It’s now nighttime, our driver Momodou Alieu,
has only narrowly avoided plowing into several cows, dogs, goats, sheep and one
woman. No one else in the car
seems nearly as frightened, nor do they seem to taking a notice at all actually. At one point, we’re probably going
about 50 mph (couldn’t tell you exactly because naturally the speedometer is non-functioning) and we come within centimeters of flattening a dog. Carly lets
out a very loud “OH MY
GOOOOOODDDDDD!”, waking up Shawn and everyone else in the car, further fueling
the hate fire burning in their hearts.
Despite
the fact that I had only gotten about three hours of sleep the night before and
we’d been traveling all day, I know sleep is not an option for me. Unlike everyone else in the car, I do not have full faith, or any faith for that matter, that we aren’t going to
die. Carly and Shawn however do manage to pass out, their little heads ping-ponging from the window to my
shoulder and back as we drive up, down, in, out and around crater-sized holes
far bigger than my hut. It's pretty impressive.
Hours 16-20: Arrived,
kinda sorta
We
all pass out in the car at the car park.
We don’t even ask the driver if it's cool, we just post up.
Hour 21: GOODMORNING
GUINEA!!!!
Momodou
Alieu drives us to another car park where we have to change cars and carry
on. Despite what you may be
thinking, we’ve actually had great luck thus far. It was probably because Carly brought her travel fairy along
and Shawn brought her travel jujus as well. And by probably, I mean definitely. It is also at this car park where we
become cash money millionaires.
You see, $1 is the equivalent of 7,021 Guinean Franc. Easy enough, right? Our new car, one we think is going straight to where
we need to go, thus allowing us to skip one leg of the journey, fills immediately. The morning air is crisp and
clean. We may have only slept a
hand full of hours in the last two days, but we’re feeling great!
Hours 22-25: Vous
allez ou?
We
arrive to where we think we should be only to find out no one has any idea
where we’re trying to go. Now this
confusion could be due to the fact that none of the three of us speak Fula or
French, but in reality it’s because we’re in the wrong place. We’re lost. We make some calls and get in touch with a Guinea volunteer
who coincidentally is where we are and going to where we need to be. Alright travel jujus! She tells us to go to a café and wait
and then we can catch a free ride with her back towards where we came from to
rectify our mistake.
Hour 26: Wait, rinse,
repeat
We
do a crossword, drink some coffee, play some rummy and just wait. We’re doing just fine.
Hours 27-29: Repeat
Apparently
one hour in Guinea means the same as one hour in the Gambia. Five, it means five.
Hour 30: Thumbs up
We’re
still having a great time, but we’re beginning to feel uncomfortable asking to
use the bathroom at the police station next door. They were nice about it until like the 30th time
and then they start to ask what we can only assume is “what’s your deal?”
We
decide we can’t wait any longer, because we’ve spent $5 to save $7. So, we hitch a ride, which takes about
30 seconds. The day wasn’t a
complete waste though, we did finish that crossword. Oh, and we saved $2.
Hour 31: Back-Tracking
Back
to where we were supposed to go to catch the last car to our final
destination. Everyone descends
upon us at the car park, speaking so many languages we don’t speak. I don’t know where we are, I can’t tell
people where we’re going, everyone’s yelling and I’m so tired! Shawn senses my frustration and just starts
yelling “Who speaks wollof, who speaks wollof?” Alas our knight in shining armor steps forward in the form
of a 12 year old boy from the Gambia.
He helps us find a car AND the world’s most disgusting latrine. (Side note: it’s a cultural practice here
for people to not walk in front of their elders, which is very awkward when the
person showing you the way is walking behind you. There’s a lot of stopping and pointing and “which
way…oh…um…here?”) I will never again think any restroom is gross, ever. Ever...ever, ever.
Hours 32-35: Slap-Happy
We’re
almost there! Only three more
hours on another dirt road! The
sun begins to set, our second sunset in a car and we begin to climb up into the
mountains. There might be baby
cockroaches infesting the seat upon which we sit, but who cares, we’re almost
there!
Hour 36: Hassan’s House
We
finally arrive. After a 2 km walk,
a delicious hot meal, and the coldest bucket bath I’ve ever taken, we lay our
heads down and sleep like we’ve never slept before.
In
the morning we awaken and begin our first day of hiking through heaven on
earth. I can’t put into words how
incredible this place is, so I won’t even try. I will say Carly was such an amazing guest. She slipped right into the skin of a PC
Volunteer. It seems only hours
after she arrived, she began having unexplainably weird bug bites, a red-dirt
tan, and noxious gas. We may have
had to travel through hell to spend a week in Eden, but she didn’t complain
once and it was totally worth it.
