Yeah, it’s been a long, long time between posts – sorry!

(that’s Biya casting his vote live on TV)

What I was totally unaware of heading into Cameroon was the extent of the impact of the elections. As it turns out, a lot of people have died – even most recently….

The other issue was internet access. Most of the internet is spotty at best, and some hotels near the border with Nigeria are using Starlink (illegally) and it can’t handle more than a couple of connections before it just stops working altogether and you have to wait 10-30 seconds. It also doesn’t work well during thunderstorms, and well, like the elections, I really wasn’t expecting that much rain. Turns out, no one else was either – https://theguardianpostcameroon.com/post/5725/fr/as-rainy-season-intensifies-climate-observatory-sounds-alarm-over-flood-landslide

I ended up making the trip ok. Finding the hotel was another problem, but you already know all about that! Google….

Residence Martha

As my first place to stay in Cameroon, I was at first quite disappointed. I opted to stay somewhat out of the city center since I knew from others that the roads leading in and out were a disaster. Words really can’t describe.

My view from the bedroom window.

Nigerian High Commission

Well, I forgot to charge my camera of course, but needless to say, the 45 minutes it took me to get there was a total waste. They again said they can’t do anything with eVisa and that I should “just try” to see if it works at the border.

Back at Residence Martha

Ok, so now it’s the Friday before the election and I don’t really have a plan other than to head to Douala. I was told that there was no way I could ride on Monday because there would most certainly be riots. Well, there were! I could ehar gunshots and lots of fights and the smell of fires raging through Yaounde. Not cool.

So, I decided to wait it out until Thursday since apparently Monday through Wednesday they had roadblocks setup every 10 kilometers to allow locals to travel, but no tourists. I would just be sent back to where I came from.

In the meantime I made some friends…

Olga’s baby girl was going crazy over my motorcycle!

Andre and I would just hang out and watch election nonsense and sometimes football when it was aired.

I actually made him dinner one day because it was Sunday and well, everything was going to be closed because it was well, Sunday, but because of the election every single place was shuttered.

I made some instant noodles using my cooking cup in the kettle with some spicy canned meat I picked up in Angola. The kitten hanging around always came for scraps.

This part of the city didn’t really have any sit-down restaurants, so I just went to a couple of street vendors.

Soya chicken was absolutely delicious.

They served a decent breakfast.

Olga made me some catfish from their “farm” behind the guesthouse.

It was excellent. Their use of simple peppers really made each dish very tasty.

Luckily, the resident housekeeper made me some fried chicken one night too! It was incredible – not to mention the fact that I watched Andre go across the street, pickup the live chicken, dispatch it on the spot, and hand it over for preparation.

Shopping

Tuesday I was able to ride down the street, so I thought I would hit the local market. It was pretty interesting. I also wanted to pick up some pizza for the crew – they were so excited!

Idiocracy fans?

Never too young to start!

Bank

Of course I had to hit the bank to grab some cash. While I was waiting in line someone pulled me out to cut the cake on their anniversary party. I was trying to keep my feet in the line when the woman asked, “why don’t you come over here” and I replied “because I don’t want to lose my place in line!” The whole place started laughing. When I asked why the chose me, they made no mistake about it – “Because you’re the only white person in here”!

Heading Out

I had Usef wash my bike and I prepared to hit the road. I had been trying to work with a contact of mine in Lagos to get my bike Nigeria, but nothing seemed possible at this point. Fuck it. I’ll head to Douala and inch a little closer.