The bus came at 3:02am. The previous day I spoke to someone who looked like a driver of a very good-looking blue van. What appeared in front of me didn’t look anything like it. Only one front light was on, there were no rear lights. I was packed into the front seat with one other man and we set off.
I could hear every single part moving in the vehicle. There was no dashboard. The only consolation was that the road is so bad that we cannot drive too fast so even if we land in the bush, nothing will happen. Almost all way back to São Domingos it was pitch black, the grasses and bushes on roadsides faint gray movements in the weak light of our car.
The prices was 1000cfa and after we arrived I was obviously asked to pay for the baggage: 500cfa.
We arrived in São Domingos just before 6am. The bus station was dead black. I lied down on one of the stone benches and tried to sleep it over till dawn. Soon before sunrise fires were lit and people sat around them. It was quite chilly.
The toca toca to Bissau was a very nice van and it only fit 7 people. I had a baguette with an awful Senegalese-made chocolate cream, which apparently also had groundnuts. We left at around 9am – the time I had assumed I would have reached Bissau – and the road was bad, full of potholes and police checkpoints. We reached Bissau around 11am (2000cfa, baggage 500cfa). I was dropped on the outskirts of the town and told to take taxi. Taxi soon showed up, a grand mercedes. It took me a while to bring the price down to 1000cfa and we were taking passengers on our way.
The distance wasn’t too great but soon we hit a traffic jam so it took us a while. Also the driver had no idea where I wanted to go.
I found a hostel/guesthouse on iOverlander with a very good (for Bissau) price of 10.000cfa. It had no name. It is next to artisanal market but the driver didn’t know where it was (I used words mercado artisanal while later someone in a taxi said feria artisanal and it seemed to have clicked with the driver.
The guesthouse is in the same building as Gorila Electronics which is clearly visible from the street. The owner is very friendly and accommodating, he also plays drums and belongs to a biker club. With me there was a couple of men who both seemed names Douglas.
I soon left for the embassies, as from the reports, Bissau seemed to be a good (read: cheap) place to pick some visas.
First: Guinea, also known as Guinea Conakry. The taxi dropped me right in front of it. The building has no sign but there is a flag. The security man spoke English. The visa man (consul?) came out of the car parked in front of the embassy and led me in. He was quite gloomy and the visa office was double as gloomy. Dark, dusty, with an empty desk with a typing machine on it. The embassy was reported to have some of the cheapest visas around but either the man took advantage of me, or the prices have risen. Single visa costs 30.000cfa for a month validity. Double visa – the one I requested – was 60.000cfa. Over 90euros. Much more than I expected but there was no longer a choice. I had to an atm. I was directed to Ecobank but there was a long queue and also Ecobank likes to charge for withdrawals. I found BAO bank and came back with the money. The visa waited for me. No mention of the fee paid on the stamp.
I went to search for photocopy office in order to try one more visa: for Ivory Coast. It’s very cheap in Bissau: 14.000cfa for 30 days validity, 19.000cfa for 60 days validity. Online price is 40.000cfa (€58), local embassies prices? I was asked for 85.000cfa in Dakar…
Next to the photocopy office there was a foodtruck selling sandwiches. I had a sandwich with omelette and cheese and a juice for 2000cfa. The sandwich was an awfully dry hamburger-style bread roll. Oh where are my fresh baguettes?
I went to the Ivorian embassy. It’s not even embassy, it’s a consulate. There were roadworks on its street and I couldn’t find it. Finally yes, there it was, the sign completely faded out and there was no way to enter it as there was a trench dug right in front of it. I was there at 1:30pm. I saw a man coming out of the gate next to the consulate door. I knocked at the gate. The man saw me and approached me. He told me to come back at 4pm but the visa would only be ready tomorrow. Fine. Prices confirmed, I went for a stroll.
It’s a sad-looking city, Bissau. I don’t know if that’s the crumbling colonial buildings around or the general sound of Portuguese language for me but everything seemed to be in a various states of decay.
I went down to the port to check the ferry to Bolama. There aren’t any but I could take the ferry to Enxudé, 6.000cfa, leaving at 8am, Monday to Thursday. The day was Wednesday… So either I take the ferry on Thursday or I get my visa on Thursday and forget getting to Bolama… Ah, decisions. Best considered over a beer.
I found a small bar, with bazooka beer, 600cfa for 0.5l, a bargain. The name of the bar seems to be K for Kaipirinha.
After having a couple of pints I walked back to the guesthouse to wait over the heat. I consulted the Rough Guide on what to do and the decision seemed clear: go to Bolama, get Ivorian visa somewhere else. In Liberia they seem to be charging $70 and there is always the online option (it’s online application but the pick up is from the embassy and it takes 2-3 days anyway). I thought I could go back and ask the man if maybe, possibly, the visa cannot be issued the same day.
I got back to the consulate, he was already waiting. He let me into the office. It was all empty of people. He said he only came there to get my passport, there is no way I could get visa the same day.
From the consulate I went back to the port and bought the ticket for the ferry. The price is 4 times higher for foreigners than it is for local people.
I walked around, enraged some people by taking photos pointing my camera to where they were and got back to the bar. One more beer, a lady who 15 mins after I took a pic of the bar entrance recalled she was there, complained about the photo.
There was a big party that day in Bissau. The winning party organised marches and possibly an all-drinking event. It was difficult to pass the streets around presidential palace the the party HQ.
Back in the guesthouse one of the Douglases, already visibly under influence, invited me for a beer. We had a couple, then Douglas started venturing out on the street, for cigarettes, to tell a lady she had beautiful eyes. The waiter, named Pan, was very patient with him. The conversation with Douglas (Canadian, jack of all trades, claims to be working only 3.5 months a year, the rest is travelling, he likes architecture, just arrived by plane from Senegal, is already tired of poverty and wants to go back to Lisbon, which he adores) became more and more difficult.
I left to find dinner. All the restaurants on the street near the guesthouse didn’t serve food. Is continued on to the centre. I saw a smoky (BBQ smoke) restaurant called Ali Baba. They have shawarma! I sat down. A huge Lebanese waiter was walking around. Suddenly, a table next to me folded down and the chicken and rice that a man sitting at the table was consuming, all landed on the floor.
The man started apparently complaining. The huge waiter immediately jumped up to him, took him by throat and started shouting and shaking the poor guy. I left.
Back to K bar, which no has all seats outside. Bah, the whole centre seemed to be all seats outside. Chaos in the bar, I cannot communicate my food needs in Portuguese, I ask about a sandwich. Yes, there is such, beef only.
I get a sandwich and a beer, there are no empty tables, I eat my sandwich (dry bread roll again) while standing. 1750cfa for both.
On my way back I go back to Ali Baba and finish the beers off with the 1000cfa shawarma sandwich. It was tasty bar the huge scary long-haired bully around.
In the guesthouse Douglas is finishing his stout, Pan patiently not allowing him to do anything stupid. I go to bed.
Next day when I leave for the ferry at 7am, I see Douglas downstairs already roaming around.
Coming back to Maman 