I got up at 5am, needed to pack, and after 3 nights in the same place it is not easy. My room was a mess. And I can’t pack a night before because no matter what I will have to check if everything is packed just before I leave. I already lost a charger and laundry rope on this trip. My phone now takes forever to charge.
The hotel is a bit away from the main street. I walked through the dusty neighbourhood, the calls of muezzins around. I thought a day before they started at 4am, now it’s 6am and they call again?
It was easy to find taxi and even easy to negotiate the 1500cfa to take me to Gare de la Guinée. Once we arrived there was no mistake: Renaults, filth and stressed shouting. Welcome back.
I was directed to the Kankan ticket booth and already heard a driver telling someone that if his wife and child wanna go with him, they have to buy two tickets because back row and front row are already full.
I got my ticket, no. 5 in the car and of course it turned out it’s the car of the full back and middle row. Discussion started but I was being ignored and it was in Fula. Someone at one point rightly said that my ticket has no. 5 so how is it that two rows (of 7 people) were already occupied? It ended quickly, the driver came up to me, asked me for my ticket and handed me the money back. No space for me, unless I buy two seats. Price of a seat: 10,000cfa.
I went back to the ticket booth, asked if there is another car, there is, got a ticket for it and went on. I had my coffee – Nescafé only – it took the seller two attempts to give me coffee without sugar and without milk and a baguette with omelette. 300cfa. In the meantime the full-middle and full-back row driver came to us looking for passengers to fill up his car. Whatever, we soon started packing, my rucksack cost 2,000cfa and the asking price was even higher, 3,000cfa.
The driver didn’t speak French. There were two children with us 9 passengers in the car, he drove fast and rushed us but himself he did many stops: to buy tea coz it’s cheaper in Mali, to load more stuff into the car, while we were of course sardine-style squeezed in the car. When I attempted to open the door (there was no handles inside, in fact the whole inside part of the door was ripped off and the bare metal covered with a piece of rag), he grunted at me telling me to stay in. I understand people love to sit or maybe they hate to stand but to sardinize ourselves in this can? No way.
The border went fairly quickly. I asked the drive for his name so that the Mali immigration is satisfied. He wouldn’t tell me.
The process on the border was similar to the one I went through coming to Mali. Again, I was the only one not asked to pay while everyone else had to throw 2-3kcfa notes.
I also changed money: 5,000cfa fetches 80,000gnf. There was there Togolese men in the car and they couldn’t get over the number of zeroes while one of the women was explaining to them how cheap Guinea is and how abundant in food, especially compared to Mali. That maybe is true.
It’s 3.5hrs from the border to Kankan and I think everyone felt tired. I know I did. I couldn’t keep my neck straight – and that sitting in the middle row by the window – so I was bending it sideways, either inside the car or outside through the window. But we stopped. And thank Allah for that for it was a stop for a midday prayer. There was a mosque nearby and the driver had his own prayer mat and a kettle with water so he could do the whole procedure onsite. The rest of passengers was just happy to get out of the car and they sat on the bench and again they couldn’t understand why I don’t wanna sit. And it’s my French failure but I think there is no easy word for stand in French. Être debout is just too complicated. The whole language is just too complicated. I don’t understand anyone, noone understand me. Eish.
It was hot in Kankan. Arriving at the small square that indeed is called gare routière I first asked for transport to Nzérékoré. I even tried to maybe possibly find out if there is the holy grail of Guinean road: a bus, but the people I was asking didn’t seem to understand what’s wrong with the cars. Everything is wrong with the cars. And the trip to Nzérékoré will take 7-8hrs.
I walked to the hotel, Le Calao, the same one I stayed at last week. It was full! I asked the man at reception about where else I could stays he gave two names, a Hotel Bate and a motel Farafinah about 3kms away. I walked to Hotel Bate. I was there on Thursday, for dinner in its restaurant. I walked in pitch black darkness through what seemed endless hills of mud and plastic trash. Now the sun is glaring and the whole street is taken over by a market and it’s the sort of market where paths between sellers are barely enough for one person and everyone is squeezing and here I am with my bags, hitting everyone around, motorbikes hoot, men with wheelbarrows block the way.
Hotel Bate is 350,000gnf, no thank you. A man at the gate directed me to a place he called EVC, which is a Christian hostel, by the cathedral, not too far.
I entered and there was a nice courtyard, tables, chairs, men drinking beer (!), food restaurant. The rooms are 150k or 180k and the difference is whether you have toilet in the room or not, the shower is in each room. There is running water oh what a nice place. I went down, took a bottle of Skol and it’s the cheapest beer in town, 8,000gnf, Guinness for 15,000gnf. And that’s a church hostel. Another great thing about the bar is that it has no music, being Christian they ask for peace and quiet on the premises. I will be able to sleep at night.
I asked about food and a woman listed the choices but when I asked about a “sauce” she stopped understanding me and I stopped understanding her. She said it’s a full plate but yes I asked what kind of sauce do you have. It didn’t go anywhere so I just ordered the sauce.
An hour later I asked the bartender about the food, he said the woman had to go to the market to buy ingredients.
Another hour later I got roasted fish and salad. It was delicious or I was just hungry but no, it was nice. This is consistent with my previous experiences of waiting forever for food in this region: it’s cooked from scratch and it tastes good. It was also cheap, the meal was 40,000gnf.
Just before the sunset I went out to look for a printer to print my Sierra Leone visa. The town has a university and I assumed that’s where the printers will be. And I was right. A long row of photocopiers and printers under a tinned roof stands in front of the university. What do they do with them at night? I printed my visa, paid 6,000cfa for the service and then asked the men if I can take a photo of the whole industry here.
They said it’s forbidden because people are scared of terrorists. I should not take it personally but no. I’m not entirely sure how photos of photocopiers are connected to terrorism and I did express my doubt but nope. It didn’t work. But I did take a secret photo yet it doesn’t show all the photocopying glory.
Having gotten curious about the photo ban I entered the university compound. Immediately someone approached me and I asked if I can take a photo of the front building. The man directed me to another man, sitting by the gate. I was asked to show passport. After examining my details he said he has to accompany me. But I just want to take a photo here at the gate, I don’t wanna enter! The man got a bit confused but he let me take a pic and I left.
I looked for somewhere to top up my phone balance. After dark, where the whole town centre boards up and there are no street lights, it wasn’t easy. Finally a shop owner called someone and that someone sent me 31,000gnf which gives 1.5GB of internet for 7 days.
The day ended with a big bottle of Skol beer for a bargain price of 8,000gnd with my Christians. It started drizzling, let’s hope there is not too much mud tomorrow.
Coming back to Maman 