Calabar

Calabar....what to say. Well, if there were a Head Quarters for scams, lies, blags, con men, racism and violence. Calabar is where it would be !!

You are not a person with a name. You are simply ' the white man,you are rich and I want your money' . At no stage was I in the minority,  I was simply ' the only white man '.

I was in a half decent hotel in Calabar. It had wifi, all be it intermittent, due to the power cuts. Which was on ,off , like Morse Code.

I was in Calabar to buy my Visa for Cameroon.  The border of which,  was about two hours away. Cameroon,  like Nigeria,  has a lot of armed illegal road blocks. They have logs across the road, then long planks of wood with six inch nails coming out. Attached to rope. If you try to go through the road block, the rope is pulled, the plank with nails blocks the road. You ride over the nails, the bike tyres will be shredded.  Then the vigilante come at you,armed with machetes.

You are not in the UK. You are not in Europe. Nobody is coming to help you. There are no police to call. It's kill or be killed.

Which brings me onto a very tough decision I had to make. My bike needs fuel, petrol.  I need fuel,it's called donations. Due to hitting saturation point, my challenge has barely had a donation in six weeks. 

Whilst in Calabar, I decided that to risk my life daily. And risk it I did,was futile. The whole point of the Challenge was to raise money for our wounded servicemen.  And despite mine and others best efforts. We could not get the Challenge into the national media.

So with tears in my eyes,I decided to sell my bike in Nigeria. And make my way back to the UK.  Total raised so far.....nearly £7,500. Not too shabby. With this,we have definitely helped to improve the lives of our wounded servicemen. Many of whom are without arms and legs. Can you imagine that ??

"No money for you ",say our politicians! ! All whilst they give away £12,000,000,000 of our British Tax payers money. To countries like India and China. Both of which have Space Programmes! ! Disgusts me to the very core.

I am going to do two more blogs. Next one will be the numerous incidents I was involved in. Whilst in Calabar. To give you a taster.  They involve constant scams. Demands of money from Police.  A 9mm Browning pistol at someones head.Machetes at mid night. Selling my bike to an under cover cop. Oo the list goes on.

The "thank you's " are coming.

Will

Nigeria. A land of contrast.

Nigeria I'm told, is the 8th wealthiest country on the planet.You will need to check that. I am not the Discovery Channel. Yet,I guess, in my own way, I am. Of a fashion :)

Abuja is only twenty odd years old. Purpose built to be Nigerias new capital. It's new found wealth,born of huge oil reserves. A capital city to reflect and represent that.

The roads are good, the water is always available, as is electricity. When it does fail,lots of diesel generators kick in. All privately owned by the given business. There are western type food chains. Small, but modern shopping centres, bars and all you'd expect say in Europe. Most are high end. The prices being at the least, the same as Europe. At the least. Bottle of beer...? Upto £5 !! Small Pizza and Fanta ?? £10 .All are crawling with security. Scanners and metal detectors at the entrances. And the Army and Police are never far away. :)

Outside of the bad. Which I'm coming to. Almost all the Nigerians have been very respectful. Very. Always calling me ' Sir ' or even ' Master '. Upon arriving anywhere, I receive,  ' Sir you are welcome '. All the time. Did you expect that ? I didn't.

Nigeria, on that front, it has been a absolute pleasure. I hope to return to Abuja. They always like a white man to front a business. It gives them more credibility. So you never know. I'm interested.

But it's definitely not all roses and cottages. That's for sure. Illegal road blocks !!! Huge tree trunks in the road. Planks of wood with six inch nails in them. Men sometimes armed with rifles and machetes. Looking to get money. But you don't see white men. Ever!! They are in Abuja or Calabar. So when I turn up, they shout at me. Annoyed I've slipped through their road block. I do it by waiting for a truck,van or finally,a car. And fly through at the last second, on the blind side.

A blog is a quick snap shot. I can't share everything. But Nigeria is certainly not all bad. I've liked the mentality I've met and the majority of the people.

Road Signs. Imagine trying to drive around your own country without any road signs ! There are non here...zero. ..narda...non. 600 km in two days. And a mixture of the best roads in Africa. And the absolute worst. No GPS, no map and no bloody road signs. Imagine that! !!! Make it easy for me Nigeria. ..Cheers !!

Long story short. Between yesterday and today, I've covered around 600 km. Not much ?? Well today I went totally off the grid. Really for the crack. There was a proper road. But I just wanted to cut across country. And off my home made map. Just going on less than a dust road. Much less. Close to just guessing really. Following my nose. Through bush villages and jungle. Thick jungle now. Everyone just gob smacked. But for some reason the illegal road block men, cheered me. Three separate road blocks. I salute them and they salute back. No idea what it's all about. But it's worked so far. :) Fingers.

Until, I came across a dried river. Completely in the middle of nowhere. No idea even now. All dirt dust and rock. And as I entered the river, half a dozen men jumped up. They were all digging. No idea again. All were shouting and un be known to me, they had a Bamboo blockade.  But...here's the but. They ran to lift it. And were prepared to help push my bike,up the dried river bank.

As non were armed and I was. I actually stopped. Not a great move maybe. But we spoke, middle of the jungle and their English was good. And that's rare in Nigeria. I explained my story. They seemed to like it a lot. Asked for a gift. I said I had my own money problems. ( I'm at £500 and it's going fast.) But gave 50 Naira. About 20 p. We all shook hands, which is done over hand and a mutual finger click. And I continued along the tiny dirt track. ( Lucky. )

After several hours I hit tarmac. No idea where I was. But logic said I was going in the right direction. Not one minute later, my chain came off my bike. Stretched loads by the past 100++ km of off roading. It was hanging.

A lad pointed me to a hut which fixed the usual Chinese bikes. I was instantly surrounded by a good dozen men. The atmosphere was mild aggression towards me. I kept my cool and was polite. But didn't show the worry I had inside. The eldest and largest began to grill me. Quickly telling me. ... " your people colonised us ". He wasn't a happy bunny.  ( My knife strapped to the inside of my left arm. )  I said I was old, but not that old and wasn't there. And asked how he was. He said..." ahhh but you received some of the benefits. .."!!

I did consider mentioning my country had also been colonised, by the Romans ( Italians), the Normans, ( the French ), the Vikings, ( the Danish).....and of course three Germanic tribes. The Angles, the Saxon and little known Judd. ( Poor Judd never get a mention. ) But the moment didn't seem too right for a history lesson.  And just said "...well its getting poorer now....if that helps "  To  which he said " good ". And offered me water.

Bike wise. O have a guess....I broke the frame! !! Luggage rack that is. A number of bolts rattled free too. And the rear suspension bottoms out a lot. I actually don't think the shocker has gone again. Just that with the weight of all my kit and the limited travel, the tyre sometimes hits the fender. Photos below.

Bit of a long one today. I'm in a town called Aplapum. A bush town. No roads or banks or anything. The very basic Guesthouse costing 2,000 N.Electicity after 7pm. Stand in a bucket and throw water on yourself, for your ' shower ' ! ive eaten chicken and rice. With pepper sauce. And enjoyed it. Very spicy.No white men in these parts. That's for sure. Meal was 500 N. Restaurant owner very pleased I complemented the food so much. They expert white men to be eating something else.

Lots happens I can't put in this blog.
Photos of the village bush track. Good 100 km worth. Will check exact distance. I think further. Women washing clothes and child in the river. My bathroom and shower buckets. And me dripping with swet and really cool helmet hair. ( dont be rude.) Writing this and going to sleep. Will upload in Calabar. Via wifi, when I find it . Phone has gone all bold on me. :)

But I am doing all of this for wounded servicemen. Men and women without arms. Without legs ! Can you begin to imagine ? Sat in wheel chairs. Abandonded by the polititions who sent them to war. " NO MONEY FOR YOU "!! all whilst they write a cheque for £12,000,000,000... in so called ' aid '!!!  Get your priorities right.!!!! Stop giving money to India and China. Who both have space programmes. British tax payers money should be spent on the British. .....

....or is it correct that we leave our servicemen in with no legs,no dignity,in wheel chairs ??

Help me to help them. X

Please click the HELP FOR HEROES LOGO AND SHOW YOUR SUPPORT. please make my efforts worthwhile.

Calabar tomorrow and get the Cameroon Visa. Should be in Cameroon in 48 hrs.

Please make a donation. Click the Help for Heroes logo.

Thank you.

Will x

Breaking up might be hard. But breaking down in Nigeria isn't a giggle either!

Due to my bike problems yesterday and the Nigerian roads being some of the worst in Africa. I was only at Jebba. No idea how far that is away from Abuja. And when I ask any Nigerian, I get " ooow very far...very far "!! They simply have no clue. They ask why I'm in Nigeria, I explain. "...I came from London,  riding my small motorbike..."  They then say, " so you fly here today"!! Ahhh man. Same every single time.

So having had my carburettor cleaned and ' all good now ', I left Jebba. I was told there were no illegal road blocks on the way to Abuja. Let me tell you, they can't count. I rode through a number. If I can, I'm not stopping for any of them.

One had three guys. No rope running over the road to a plank of wood, with a hundred six inch nails. No,they missed that bit out. And went straight to rifles. Two had rifles, very old or traditional. Totally unrecognisable. I'd even say they were 100 years old. Ruddy great long things. The third had a two foot mashiete strapped to his chest. ' Nice friendly lads '.

The first 100 km or so was very slow. I like the red dust tracks, however bad they are. It's good fun. But when it's tarmac, but with bomb crater sized pot holes. It's just slow,slow,slow. I don't understand how or why. But my exhaust hits my rear tyre now, when going over this sort of terrain. Shock absorber off the XT works well mind. :))

Then the breakdown began. No AA here mind, nobody to call. And whilst I know I'm no author, I assure you, I'm equally challenged with mechanics. Or lack of.

Splutter,splutter. 5 mph and to a halt. My guess its fuel based issue. Carb has red dust in it,I'm guessing. So I had the carb off the bike twice today, middle of Nigeria. Just what you want. And no joy. Sputter,splutter. I managed to get to a small town,come village. And found a shack which was fixing the usual Chinese 125's. I only had 420N on me. But they changed the plug straight away and tried cleaning the main fuel pipe. I asked for the carb. to be cleaned. But English isn't really understood by everyone. Not remotely. Plus I think he was just a guy who could change a chain. But true problems, were beyond him. Whilst he worked away,a crowd gathered. I'm not joking. ...It was sixty strong! !! Sixty. ( I'm not getting my camera out in Nigeria. Plus you just have ' tourist' written all over you.) And for me, that shouts future victim.

The rest of my day was spent at 5/10 mph. The swet pouring off me,as no breeze to cool me down in the enduro suit. Was a bit concerned today. Bike broken,I can't fix it. Middle of nowhere. In Nigeria. Illegal road blocks everywhere. Armed men. And to top the lot, whilst off roading, my water had bounced out my baggage!  So if I'd had to wild camp,I had nothing to drink. And its about 3 litres of water a day you need. Minimum.

I managed to splutter to a good sized town,about 20km from Abuja. I saw a bank,which is rare. Grabbed £40. ( I'm now down to £400 plus overdraft. ) Found a cheap Guesthouse and have organised to take the bike to someone at 8.15 am tomorrow.

On the plus side. Today was day three with just a bowl of rice inside me. But the Guesthouse owner sent me out with a worker to a western style restaurant. I've just had a chicken leg and meat pie. Fan bloody tastic !!! Nailed it in 5. Forget cheap African prices....more than Europe. I just can't eat bush meat. It's what came with my rice three days ago.

So, just another day of challenges. I will be happier when my bikes fixed. I just doubt the knowledge of some of these guys here. It's self taught, standards vary drastically. And they will never have seen this sort of carburettor before. We shall soon find out.

Glad to be in a bed, with a plan and possible solution. So its not all bad. The Guesthouse has intermittent power, as usual. So the pump for water doesn't work. So the maid brings two buckets. One with water. You stand in the first bucket. And by using a bowl, scoop water from the second. And Bob's your tea pot, you've had a shower. Sorry for the photo. :)) Hopefully I shall be camping in the grounds of the Hilton Hotel Abuja tomorrow. :))

Then it's over to Angola Embassy number four !! And try and get that visa. :))

...." this time next year......"

Will.x

Splutter splutter...

So I found a Guesthouse in Llorin. A Guesthouse is not a victorian 3 storey building, run by Dot and her elderly husband Burt. It's two tennis courts in size. Has an eight foot surrounding wall. And a row of rooms,similar to a US motel. There is always a Guardian or Security.

This one had a bar and some food. Having had my ' shower '. ( me stood in a big bucket,throwing water over myself from a second bucket. ) I went to the ' restaurant '. Well....I mean I'm a fussy eater in England. I'm always getting moaned at over it. So eating in Africa is not easy for me. I asked for rice and chicken. ( its a safe bet.) ' No chicken '...just beef. Result.  I thought. Out comes my rice and ' beef '.....ahum. it was cow spine and chilli soup . " hhhhm...always fancied a bit of spine " !

In the guesthouse complex,I sat with twenty or so locals. Watching Nigeria v Morocco. 4-3 Nigeria. I was the centre of attention.  No annanimity here for a white man. You are constantly being watched . Akin to an alien has landed. We actually had some deep conversations. These Nigerians tend to big guys. I simply keep it simple. I'm respectful, I have my knife in my left boot. I do stand my ground. But without any attitude. It works.

I had a quick two hours out and about in Llorin. A guy from the Guesthouse glad to 'help' me. Which is code for,you pay me after. Almost, almost no 'help' in Africa is for friendship alone . Taxi moto, is a taxi motorbike. They are all Chinese, the bikes,not the riders. Cost 100N for a short journey. The taxi moto in the photo took me to the damn. Wasn't too exciting. Nice crash helmet though ...because that won't come off. ;)

Nigeria is apparently the 8 th richest country in the world. You'll need to check that. Well, the roads are terrible! ! The drivers insane. Don't be surprised to see cars and bikes driving on the wrong side of the road. And boy have I had some close shaves. Mental.

Yesterday, I'm riding centre of my side of the road. A truck heading towards me on the other side. A truck behind that one. It takes a look to over take. He can't bloody miss me. Head light on,im in the middle of the road. He over takes anyway. He's coming directly at me. No room left on the road for me. Just me being splattered on his bonnet. No joking.  He was say, 200 m away now. Head to head and only one winner. No road left.  I had to jump the bike off the road and onto the dust track,some two feet below the actual road. Nice moment. Liked that a lot. !!! Happened again today. Hey ho. Mad, mad and more madness.

My bike has been almost un rideable today. Spluttering, no power at all . Big problem for me. Middle of the Nigerian bush, with a broken bike. Just what you want. Some sort of fuel blockage. I cleaned the air filter and changed the plug. And still splutter,splutter, splutter. 5 mph.

I just managed to get into Jebba. Having spluttered my way through an illegal road block. ( That had the bottom twitching.  ) " work. ...go..work.." splutter ,splutter. Whistles blowing and shouting, as I ignored their road block.

My bike came to a halt outside a hut, with Chinese bikes being repaired . 20 minutes later my carb had been cleaned, my chain adjusted. And whilst far from running correctly, is now  workable. Of a fashion.

I'm now on my bed in a house. A Guesthouse. About 1 km outside Jebba. It's THE house with water. As it had a bore hole dug. Er...for water. So all the local houses come here to use the outside tape. They come with big trolleys, carrying 20 lt water containers. As a result, I've had a few conversations in English, with some of the locals. All good. One girl arrived for water. Her name ? Loveit! Had to smile inside. " reaaaally " .

My bike = ..." ...I've changed the head twice and the handle three times. .....but it's still the same broom..."

' ...onwards and upwards Rodney. ...onwards and upwards. ...'

Tomorrow Abuja. X

Will

What a day....

Up bright and breezy, with a view to an early start and definitely a day light finish.

Working on the principle that these illegal road blocks will go onto late into the night. The bad guys will be having a lay in. So I set off from Pobe,early doors. some 10 km from the Nigerian border.

Not 7 km later it was dark red dusty track, as a road. And slap my thigh with blissful glee,I had a puncture. A six inch nail, used on the illegal road blocks to stop the traffic. Was hanging out of my rear tyre. " Gosh..good ", I said.

Bike un rideable and now in the jungle, miles from anywhere. And I doubt if the AA would respond. Time to get my thinking cap on. My bike doesn't have a centre stand. Making taking the rear wheel off alone, somewhat of a challenge.

A long story short. A local tribesmen turned up. Followed by three more. Followed by half a school, all dressed in brown uniform. Between us we got the wheel off,changed the inner tube and got it blown up. An hour of sweating my bits off. Now with a crowd of about twenty around me and the bike. Strange. Not one word of English and not one word of French was said. They only spoke tribal.... photos below.

"...onwards and upwards Rodney..."

Through Benin Customs without any hassle. Now for Nigeria. With fingers crossed, that choosing a remote boarder crossing was the right thing to do.

Into Nigeria Immigration, a hut on the left side. Where I was grilled about my visit. Despite having a visa. Until the penny dropped. ( I now always explain I've ridden my bike from England. It throws them off any bribery game.) Passport all stamped up,they even asked to have photos next to me. Result. Then over to Health Desk,to show my Yellow Fever card. ( Another small hut.)Then I was called to the SS Office. To which I said " sounds about right ". Thankfully he had no idea. SS, means Secret Service. Had a quick chat and some more forms. Then over to Nigeria Customs.

It started all strict and official. Scrutinised everything. So glad I bought new bike insurance. All my baggage off the bike. Into the building, checked for drugs and weapons. 2 hrs worth. The head of Narcotics being also present. After I explained my story,it all changed again. Back to asking for photos. The head of Narcotics taking a wrist band off and giving it to me ! Which was a great gesture.They even forgot to charge me for my Lassier Passer. Which should be 5,000 N. Result !!!

And into Nigeria. ..remember I don't have the luxury of gps. Due to Suzuki GB. So just my home made map. As usual.

A typical scene: By the road side,you can clearly see large logs,lots of them. A hut,some string running over the road. Attached to a wooden board,with a hundred or so nails sticking out. 12 times I went through illegal road blocks. Each time I waited for a car to go ahead and as it slowed down, for the road block,id over take down the centre line. The car or truck obscuring the view of the ' Vigilante' gang. I'm sure at least four times I went through Official road blocks. They had uniforms and were shouting, but me "no comprendo".

"...onwards and upwards Rodney. ."

The road at times was terrible. It had been raining and I soon was filthy. Pretty sure i was running parallel to the road I actually wanted. Mine was red and muddy. It should have been tarmac. A number of times locals shouted at me. And it didn't seem to smell of roses and love. But I pushed on through the jungle until I hit a tarmac road. Then asked someone for Abeokuta. The bike and I now covered in red dirt. And I like that a lot !

I got to my first pit stop at about 4 pm and found a basic Guesthouse. 3,000N. Just north of Abeokuta. The family were Muslims and very helpful. The power is intermittent. Which means the water is. A problem across Africa. Photo of me in a bucket. Having a ' shower '.The room was good. Made acceptable, as the family owning it, were so nice. ( I was actually offered the daughter by the mother.Now that's service!!. ) I wanted to get food in me before nightfall. They escorted me to a locals restaurant. Knife now in left boot.The chicken and rice was fantastic. Best I've had in Africa. ( Usually chicken here is skin and bone. Hardly any meat.) Not here though, it was massive. Covered in a natural chilli sauce. It was on the money. O and it cost 600 N with a water. Then it was one bottle of beer at their cousins shop,next door to the Guest house. All tucked up in my room by nightfall. Watching black and white Nigeria soap. Hhhmmm

In the morning one of them gave me a wrist band,for good luck. Not to be outdone, the daughter, about 20 ish,came over. " I want to give you a gift "....and she put a watch around my left wrist. How nice.

I am starting look like a model in the Next Catalogue. African Edition. Kneck lace from a tribesmen in Burkina Faso. Knife from the Toureg in Mali. Two wristbands from Nigeria and now a watch. Never mind that lot....where's the oil .:)

I feel very privileged actually. They are all gifts for safe passage. X

Will

PS For security reasons. Very few photos will be taken in Nigeria. In public.I'm not giving anyone an extra opportunity. Hope you understand.

Togo

So gutted. I wrote this once already,  but due to technical difficulties,  lost all the data. It took me two hours. Ahhh..... Ce la ve :()

Burkina Faso Police and Customs were polite and didn't ask for a bribe. But two men outside the frontier post, indicated they were police. And took my passport and my bikes Lassier Passer. Upon asking inside the police station,  they turned out to be " working with us ". Not actual Police. Which is code for....' we can't be seen to take a bribe. They are so called fixers. '

Having got my police exit stamp,  I went outside and snatched back my Lassier Passer. ( bike import / export doc. ) Simply saying " non " ! ( These ' fixers ' would have demanded money for the ' help '. And given a kick back to the police. )

Over to the Togo side. For the Overlanders out there. A visa at the border is 10,000 cfa. For 7 Day Transit. Extendable in Lome Duan Office . No bribes asked for,  I always explain I've come from the UK,  ' avec le petite moto '. Which they all love. It breaks the ice and seems to smooth the process. The reply is almost always,  "can I have your bike "? In French of course.

I've no idea how to say in French,  ' you would have more chance of plating snot '. And that's probably a good thing.  :)

Over to Togo Duan.( Customs ). A Lassier Passer I knew to be 5,000 cfa. But was originally charged 6,000 cfa. Until an official asked where I was going and had come from. ( Yes, I did it in French. .....sort of.) The Customs Officer, completing my Lassier Passer, then lowered the price to the proper price of 5,000 cfa. He seemed to be impressed or surprised.

Liking that, I smiled and paid the 5,000 cfa. And gave him a 1,000 cfa ' tip'. No bribes paid, everybody happy. And through both sides in under an hour. Result. :)))

Into Togo......the home of voodoo. !! How exciting is that ??

First question that poped into my head ?? ' where do I get a life sized doll of the clown at Suzuki GB, who dropped my sponsorship ' ?  And ' do you do discount on bulk pin purchases ' ? :)))

Togo. After the desert and sub desert, of the Sahl Region. It's plush green, mountainous countryside, was a delight. Interesting and a first for me. Unsure if this is classed as sub tropical or tropical. But I can confirm it's a whole lot more interesting than endless miles of sand.!

The people of Togo seem friendly, intrigued in my visit. When I stop, I am quickly surrounded by interested passer bys. But as soon as there is more than three or four people, I say goodbyes, and get underway. Whilst friendly, I am alone. And security is my number 1 priority. (  I recently lost my knife, from under my tank bag. Which is a big concern for me.) And I promise you,  I don't like carrying a knife. But I am not living in lar lar, cum by yar ma lord land.

They love dancing and they love their music.  Its fast tempoed, really up beat. And boy, can they dance. We white people, should A) leave basketball alone.  And B) step away from the dance floor. :))

Some photos of the lovely and very different Togo countryside. Rivers with water.....been a while. Bush fires. Me finding a fruit drink. So i now know what Mango tastes like.( I've never eaten a fruit. ) Me squinting in the sun. ( not a great look. ) candle on the floor. As electricity is intermittent. These pointed Termite hills. Not a great explanation. And I could very easily be wrong. Someone e mail. And let me know what they are exactly. Im just An Idiot Who Got Bored. On the Slow Way Down.

I have noticed an Expedition website  has shared my page. " Thank you. Cheers. ". Good of you.:))

I'm in Lome tomorrow night. And would love to just listen to someone,  anyone, speak English.

Liking Togo. Nice, respectful people. Just don't set foot on the dance floor with one of them. They'll make you look stupid.

Will x