Because of me thinking today was Monday rather than Sunday, the morning goes slow and I have nothing planned. I make enquires to visit the local museums, but there shut. I send various messages and Skype Kerry as the internet connection is good at the Miemum Palace Hotel where I’m staying.
Since being in Yaounde, I have noticed more Chinese people being a strong indication of their influence throughout West Africa where they strip the earth of its minerals. I ask the locals how they feel about this and twice they have replied saying “Well we needed help. We waited and waited for the English to help us, but you didn’t come so we welcomed the Chinese”.
Strangely enough the only new cars evident throughout West African, often in the cities are brand new Nissan Patrols 4 x4 vehicles which are all owned by charities. Seeing this makes me wonder firstly, why are these vehicles in the cities and not in the suburbs where they appear to need more help and secondly, is our charity money really getting to the needy? For example, in Bamenda, Camaroon at my last hotel there was a huge convention of Unicef staff all driving new 4 x 4’s and the car park was full of them which must of cost a fortune, I mean, what’s going on.
The South African chaps and I, of whom I know so much about from the Gendamerie’s at border crossing and check points are now in regular communication and they are expected in Yaounde today in preparation to pick up their Angolan visas. Whilst I rest in my hotel room listening t the honking of taxis, I hear the typical popping sound of a KTM motorcycle. That’s them, it must be, and it was. I shout down “Bruce” from m my second floor hotel room, see I even know their names, height and eye colour all learnt from the border registry books. “Tommy” he replies, I run down in excitement of meeting two white men. We chat intensely about the similar challenges and incidents we have experienced. Wide eyed with excitement, all three of us talk quickly because we have so much to share with each other whilst trying not to interrupt each other.
En route to Yaounde, the lads met a local biker who advised of a nearby bikers bar just around the corner form my hotel. Bruce tells me to grab my helmet and jump aboard his KTM and off we go to the bar.
At the bar, we continue to chat excitedly and agree how lucky we are to be experiencing these challenges because in only two years’ time, the mud roads will become tarmac carving its way through this beautiful, wild landscape.
The waitress’s fire up the BBQ and ask what we would like to eat. At the girl’s surprise, we order four chicken kebabs, one frites and two beef kebabs each. The food was delicious.