I have a bit complicated relationship with Abidjan. I have been here quite many times with work. It’s the only place I’ve been harassed at night and mugged our of my money and a phone, in broad daylight on a Sunday in city centre. Sometimes I would say Abidjan doesn’t like me. In the end, coming with work, staying in horribly overpriced guesthouses or villas (100k CFA per night) in Zone 4, not far from the office, I’d hang around there, eating out not far from where I’d stay, drinking Guinness in one buvette that seemed to have normal prices. I remember grilled fish being such a luxury that it cost 7000cfa.
Around here where I’m now it’s a very different perspective – grilled fish 2500cfa, my hotel still expensive at 15000. Yet I was even wondering what the difference is between where I stay now and where I stayed before with work. Okay, a toilet seat. WiFi that works though still isn’t too fast. A swimming pool. A garden. Breakfast included, so – coffee, pineapple and a croissant or two. Rooms used to be simple, possibly bigger than this one I’m staying at. Bathrooms were more spacious and comfortable. Is that really something that makes the room 6 times more expensive?
Grand Bassam is an hour drive from Abidjan. I have been there twice but long ago. The second time it took me forever to come back to the city – there was no transport so we queued for very long and even then the road took 3 hours to come back because there were so many cars.
But it’s a nice place to wonder about, quite atmospheric, an old colonial French capital and the beach seems OK with many hotels right on it.
So I did go, catching a minibus from under the bridge not far from where I stayed, 500cfa. It took is maybe an hour to reach the town, it’s a bit of a walk to the picturesque part. There was a lot of people and traffic was quite heavy. I peeped into the supermarket – in the North when I was asking around for coffee en grains I was told I could find it in Abidjan’s supermarkets – but there was only ground coffee. I walked on, of course just before the bridge in town there was a police checkpoint but they mainly harassed the taxis.
There were quite a few white people in Bassam, which is quite understandable. Easter, Sunday, beach, old houses. The town itself has changed a bit towards the more touristy side. There are now cafes that look like anywhere else in the world. I sat in one, I was the only customer, coffee price immediately inflated to 500cfa and very weak in taste.
On Sunday a lot of businesses are closed. I always say it means people can afford not to work. In Marcory, around where I stay in Abidjan, that included also coffee kiosques. I walked a lot and managed to find one that was open. I had pain au chocolat for breakfast too.
I walked around Bassam. Of all the old colonial towns that I’ve seen in Africa this isn’t the most beautiful or evocative. Gorée is prettier, Bolama more atmospheric, Ilha da Moçambique as well, Stone Town I don’t remember much. There are few old buildings and a couple of ruined houses that look nice. But maybe I missed something? I kept walking around, sat for a beer in a buvette. When I was taking photos of a one ruin a young man came up to me and asked if I had permission to take photos from either mayor of Bassam or the local museum. I said I didn’t and I didn’t see a sign saying I should have one. He said the sign isn’t needed that he, as one of the “children of Bassam” tells me I need a permission. I said I didn’t have one and that I’d be still taking photos permission or not. Then he said that this time I was allowed but next time I should first arrange a permit. Whatever.
In the ruined house I had this permit incident at, there was a shop selling masks. I entered and asked the man about the permit, obviously he said it was just youth talking. I wondered who was talking to the youth about it.
There was a large mask that I liked and I pointed it to the seller. Of course as usual I said I cannot buy anything, heavy bag on my shoulders etc. He said I could post it and that it wouldn’t get lost or broken. Yeah. We talked and I left.
Walking down the street I thought maybe I could allow myself indulgence and buy a large mask and really have it posted. So I came back to the shop and asked about the mask. “Oh but you just said you cannot buy anything!” Well I did but I also started thinking that maybe I could. He said the shipping would be 23-28k CFA, so €40+ but he would wrap it for me and I’d have to post it. I can’t imagine how this mask should be wrapped & packed for it to survive shipping. Anyway, asked about the price of the mask the man said it’s 300,000cfa. A bit less than €500. I suspect he said it to maybe get rid of me or he thought I wasn’t serious or maybe because I told him about that gallery in Dakar where €10k won’t buy you too much. Anyway, so much for me indulging myself, I walked on.
The beach wasn’t as much crowded as it was overwhelmed by people. Incredible, it was difficult to even walk on it, the crowd was so immense. I didn’t spend much time on it, all the beach joints were full of sometimes drunk people. I left.
I bought myself a bottle of groundnuts. The best groundnuts – sold in 0.75l bottles – are in Nigeria. They are salty but there is no salt on them. At home I don’t touch groundnuts because they are all drowning in salt. Around here it’s delicious. A bottle costs 1000cfa in Bassam and the nuts are good. I stops for a Guinness in an empty maquis but they don’t bother having change from 5000 if the beer is 1200. Next door another empty maquis, Guinness for 1300 and there will be change.
I walked to town around 6pm. The line for the transport was loooooooooong. However this being capitalism soon I heard shouts advertising transport outside the queue but for 1000cfa, double the usual price. I jumped in.
It took us less than 2 hours to get back, the traffic was already heavy in places.
Back in Marcory it was usual roasted fish and salad and a Guinness for good night.
Coming back to Maman 