Ah, to not to have to move anywhere today. What a bliss. And I did sleep until almost 9am. I did a bit of work on my mosquito net, I turned it kind of upside down so that it is wrapped around the poles on the bed corners, not between them. I don’t like mosquito nets, they are always too short or too small or they simply cannot cover the whole bed – I also had nets with huge holes in them – and I always get entangled in them. Once I even had a dream that I was fighting spider’s web and when I woke up it turned I was fighting the mosquito net. Now the net is nearly wrapped around the bed and the mosquito coil is burning, I slept well.
I came to Nzérékoré mainly because of the coffee man in Koundara who told me this is where coffee comes from. Also, the Rough Guide is rather longingly writing about Guinée Forestière. And I like forests. But was it worth the 13 hours on the road yesterday? I read on my way here that it’s Guinea’s second city and I got a bit disappointed. I don’t want big cities. Fret not, it isn’t big.
Wednesday is a market day in Nzérékoré and Rough Guide it just has to be seen on this day. I was lucky to be able to arrive a day before although markets in my experience are hit and miss. I remember getting up at 4am to be able to get to the famous market in Saquisili in Ecuador, only to leave very disappointed by it – there was nothing interesting, the animal market moved out of town and people were unhappy that I only wanna take photos but I don’t buy anything. Then another famous market, in Chichicastenango in Guatemala, meh. A but of a tourist trap. But then I accidentally was in Banku in Nigeria on the Cameroonian border and it was a beautiful affair. Same with a Sunday market in Ayorou in Niger – incredible sight. I guess maybe I have a thing with Sahara peoples.
I thought if this market will disappoint, I will keep myself busy looking for coffee.
I took a half-baguette with omelette and two coffee cups on the street, at the same man who gave me bag of water the previous evening. I paid 8,000cfa and he still insisted I don’t have to pay for that water. Then I took a walk towards the Grand Marche. It didn’t look particularly stunning but it was very busy and it didn’t even feel like it’s a market day. It felt like any other day so I wonder. I started asking for coffee.
First, moneychangers directed me to a shop. The shop directed me to a shop next door which was a wholesale seller. The seller directed me to the market proper, telling me to go inside the maze of stands and behind the 4th Maggi plaque they sell coffee.
Of course inside the maze you don’t see the Maggi plaques which are facing the street, I nevertheless found two ladies with coffee for sale. But it was ground coffee. 20k for 1kg. That’s less than €2. I think it’s mainly robusta that they sell here. They also said coffee beans are 15k francs.
I asked for coffee beans. They said they don’t have it, it’s not in the market, I have to go out and there is a place. They called a man. He took me back on the street and asked one of the moto drivers – who somehow knew where the place is – to take me there. We went. Not too far. Into the small streets where women were washing kola nuts. I got dropped in front of a warehouse, full of coffee beans. The beans were dry, not even yet peeled and packed in huge bags. And here I am saying that I want 1kg! But it’s not the coffee I want, I want the roasted one. The man tried to explain to me how to get where they sell roasted coffee but eventually gave up and told me he would take me there. But not before I took a photo. The place was very atmospheric, the bags white and pink in colour, the dunes of coffee and two men loading them into the bags. It took a bit of discussion, first they didn’t even understand what I wanted and whom I wanted on the picture. But I got my permission and with one shot to take I think it came out well.
We walked to the coffee roasters, it wasn’t too far, maybe 10mins away and there behind several car wrecks a house. Ladies sitting, a bit surprised – a lot of people were surprised with a white man walking down the streets but it only results with excessive bonjours & bonsoirs & ça va – with their visitor and here it was, on the ground, coffee beans spread, behind this carpet 3 people by the fires rolling metal drums by hand hanging above the burning wood, thus roasting the coffee.
Just one kilogram? First the ladies didn’t wanna sell so little but I explained why I even wanna buy and the man who took me there also talked a bit for me and they agreed. 30k for a kilo. I immediately agreed and one of the women took a plastic bag and walked to the coffee lying on the ground and started loading it into the bag. Then she brought a hanging scale and it looked like there was more than 1kg (I weighted it later in a shop and it was 1.5kg) and I paid the 30k. I also asked for the photo and she agreed.
I walked back with the man to his workshop and we parted and I walked back to the market.
The inside of the maze was quite atmospheric. But how to take photos? Everyone already knows me, I made the noise about coffee, I’m the only white man around, everyone is looking towards me, the aisles in the market are tight.
Well, I did go va banque and took pics ad hoc as I walked around with the phone in my hand, hoping something will come out of it. The most picturesque parts of any market are the food districts except meat and I tried. Not many people will register that the way I hold my phone is actually meant for pictures and I wasn’t stopping. It was a bit dark inside and the pictures came out a little unsharp but that’s the best I could do.
Especially that later on, when I walked out on the street and while walking I was taking pictures of the stands outside, not even close, just general panoramas, an elderly man reprimanded me that it’s not good to take photos like that. Whatever. I can’t be asking every single person – and it’s a crowd – for permission.
I walked towards what in the Rough Guide was marked as post office. Guinea’s second city, who knows, perhaps the post office will live up to my expectations? I passed a book stand and I asked the woman running it if she maybe has post cards but she didn’t even know what I was asking for.
Sure enough, the post office is there, a large sign outside. I entered and asked the two men inside about the stamps. They said yes, they had them but they are not selling them. Er, what? Yes, they had them and if I bring the postcards is be able to send them but stamps I can’t get. Okay, no problem, I’ll bring the postcards, how much are the stamps? Quatre-vingts mille. Now, it happened to me before that I misheard the prices in French and those numbers between 60 and 99 are difficult to understand immediately but 80,000gnf for a stamp? Yes. I thought again maybe they don’t know what postcard is but no, they do and this is the price. They even wrote it for me. Now, I love everyone but you won’t be getting no 80k poststamps from me! The men were also trying to explain to me that if I had a postbox I’d be able to get a better price but yeah, it ain’t gonna work.
I walked back to my guesthouse, I stopped for a coffee at the water man’s shop. He told me he pays 15k for 1kg but he buys coffee in 5kg bags.
In the guesthouse I rested a bit in the shadow and soon it was lunchtime. I used iOverlander to take me to an Enterprise Restaurant – accidentally the same place where I had beers the previous night – but I woke up the caretaker only to hear there is no food.
There was another restaurant, in a hotel/guesthouse called Chez Aida, to which I took a walk. The place is recommended as accommodation in Rough Guide but it’s a bit more expensive than my church hotel so I didn’t go.
There was noone at the place, except a sleepy waiter. Yes they have food, there is even a menu – first for a long time – everything seems to cost 50,000gnf, I took roasted fish with green peas (green beans unavailable) and a bottle of Guiluxe, Guinea’s national beer. The waiter sat down at my table and chatted with me a bit. He too wants to go to Europe but getting there isn’t easy even with an invitation. I was telling him yeah it’s nice when you’re born there but for an immigrant things will be tough. He said he has a brother in Paris who’s a successful chef in a restaurant – “chefs earn money in Europe, right?” – and the brother has been there for five years. “Is your brother inviting you to come to Paris?” “No, he isn’t.” End of conversation.
The food was good, the beer also. I stayed quite long and got so caught up that I didn’t even notice that it’s getting dark but not because of the sunset but because the rain is coming.
When I walked out on the street the winds were blowing, the dust was up & everywhere dancing in the air, the first drops were already falling. I managed to catch a moto and we rode back to cathedral, my mouth full of sand, at times you couldn’t see what’s going on around, the dust was everywhere.
I got to the guesthouse right before the rain dropped. I waited over and after it stopped raining I went out and went to the transport terminal to ask about my options to Sierra Leone.
What I thought I could do was to go to Faranah and from there to go South to the border. The guidebooks mention a 10km no-man’s-land in between and I am not sure I could get to Faranah in a day (G Maps distance: 407km, 8hrs), possibly spending a night on my way in Kissidougou. I passed a car waiting for passengers to Conakry and I asked them but they insisted that I must go to Conakry and from there it would be easy for me to go to Freetown. Travel time to Conakry? 20-22hrs. In a sardine can called Renault. I’d day 20-22 times.
When I got to the gare and started asking around, the station masters told me I should go via Gueckedou. It’s the closest border crossing to Nzérékoré but I wasn’t sure about the immigration posts – the Rough Guide says not every crossing there has passport control – and transport options as well. I was directed to the ticketmaster for Gueckedou and we talked. He called for a driver to Gueckedou, they said up to the border in Nongoa the transport is easy, what’s on Sierra Leone side they don’t know. Distance to Gueckedou is 250kms, travel time is 5hrs, they insisted I would be able to get to the border in a day and there is immigration control. The border itself is crossed in a pirogue and the first town proper on the other side is Kailahun. But then there came a question of I want to go with a car for myself and when I said I just want one seat the driver said I should take two. Here we go again.
I even explained again why I don’t take two seats. It’s expensive and I don’t have so much money. They all seemed surprised, the ticketmaster even said that 100,000gnf is €10 and back in Europe it’s not so much. I said well maybe in Paris but in Poland where I come from it’s still a lot. You can’t just tell a Pole he has too much money. Ah, you’re from Poland, do you know Lewandowski? Everyone knows Lewandowski here. “He’s for you like Messi for Argentina.”
I thought if tomorrow there will still be issue with one seat two seats I will go to Kissidougou. Despite all the transport hassle Guinea is nice. I could even stay in Nzérékoré for a bit longer, the guesthouse is nice, the rain clears the air and brings the heat down, there is coffee & beer, the food is good. What’s not to like?
There are also issues of other kind with crossing over to Sierra Leone. I have 600,000gnf in my pocket, that’s about €60 and do I need more if I stay for one more night on my way? Is there a bank where I will stay next? Or do I cross the border soon and will I be able to change the francs into leones? Possibly yes. Also, in Freetown I will need to get Liberian visa, I should plan to arrive there on Sunday, the visa will not take just a day. Also, iOverlander points to Nigerian visa possibility in Freetown. It’s supposed to cost crazy money, $160 or so but if it’s the only chance?
I decided I need to withdraw more money and went to the bank. Bicigui is the bank that I know serves Visa and doesn’t charge for it. Ecobank in other countries charges for withdrawal so I don’t even consider it here. There is also Orabank which I don’t know.
Bicigui’s ATM is out of order for maintenance and there are men waiting for it to be back in order. You know, when there is a queue, join it so I stupidly wait with them. 20mins later nothing is happening, ATM still out of order, I leave and try Orabank. Orabank doesn’t charge me for withdrawal, it even allows max withdrawal of 400k (Bicigui allows only 300k). Content, I continue for yet another roasted fish at the same chop joint that I ate yesterday.
On my way I see Alimentation. The small hole-in-the-wall shops aren’t called alimentation here. This one looks like a supermarket, that is it has a standing shelf and you can pick your own goods, even though it’s a size of a hole-in-the-wall. I walk in hoping they have biskrem. The don’t but they have bisgood, which is another Turkish biscuit brand. Fine, anything but the bland Indian cookies. A man in the shop chats me up in English and when I walk out he invites me to eat. To be honest, pretty much everyone I pass and he or she is eating issues an invitation for me to join them and eat. It’s remarkable and you could say it’s only for show, they don’t expect me to actually join them.
But this man insists I join them and he issues a threat that if I don’t join them in their own country the when they come to my country they will also refuse to join me in eating my food. What’s got a man to do? I sit down and eat. It’s a mountain of rice and a “soup” made of cassava leaves.
This soup or sauce is thick, and the potato leaf or manioc/cassava leav sauces invariably look disgusting, like a dark green poo and they invariably taste delicious.
And this one was top. It has a slightly bitter taste and it was very well peppered. We ate although I tried to take small, there were some six men to this meal, Liberians, a Gambian and a Guinean. And a Polish. Home cooking is the best my friend. After we finished I got water in a sachet, said my thanks and left.
I still wanted my roasted fish. And I got it, on the street, I ate sitting on bench side with a table nearby. This time the fish was small and I was served two, complete with the very nice fresh salad. Today I paid 50k, which is the same as the fish in the restaurant but there all veggies were cooked, here I have them fresh and it’s not a common thing. I even know people who’ll refuse eating fresh salads because they are afraid the veggies are not well washed.
What to do with such beautiful evening? Guinness! I caught a moto and we went. Since Guinness here is in cans I thought to take it back to hotel. I asked the moto driver to wait. I gave the bartender 40k and left – I was certain this was what I paid the previous night. I was already on the moto when they called after me. I forgot my change. The beers are 30k.
Back in the guesthouse it’s charging time, before power goes off at midnight. It’s a very quiet place here, except the endless cry of cicadas. I don’t feel like leaving. Let’s see what time I’ll wake up tomorrow.
Coming back to Maman 