Easter in Abidjan

Ah how I didn’t want to go leave for Ghana. Abidjan is jolly fun, Ghana will be full of tourists. I woke up, pondered what to do.

I stayed in Abidjan one more day. Monday was still holiday in Ivory Coast, majority of businesses was still closed.

Having so much time and so few things to do I took it slowly. Next door a woman set up an orange juice stand. 500cfa for 0.5l. I wanted to buy it. Pas de monnaie.

I tried to get a salad in the same place where I’d had one the day before but they told be “it’s not possible”.

I went on to the one bakery around that I knew did more than just bread. I wanted pain au chocolat but i noticed some strange looking croissants and yes! They were croissants aux amandes. Across the street there was a coffee joint, I sat down. The croissant tasted as if it was from yesterday, stale, barely any almonds on it, inside very little cream. The coffee was good but I must notice it is always robusta.

Speaking of robusta, I thought I could have a look around and see if I can buy any coffee. I walked towards my hotel, now with change in my hand I bought the juice, it was tasty and the woman was using her own bottles – she told me to throw mine out. I stopped at another woman’s stand – she was making sandwiches – but I didn’t take one. Just behind my hotel another coffee joint, this time – and it was my first – run by a woman. Resplendent in her raspberry pink robe she was dishing out espressos. Of course I sat down and took another two.

After a short walk I saw a place that called itself patisserie fine – a fine bakery – but it looked too fine from outside. I googled the word “hypermarket” on the maps. In the North everyone was telling me I would be able to find coffee beans in supermarkets. I also remembered the man selling “medical” stuff on the bus, how he talked that his stuff can oh be found in hypermarkets, not supermarkets.

Hypermarkets certainly exist in Abidjan, Google returned several carrefours but I just noticed a big sign: “Hyper Casino”. Casino as far as I know is a French supermarket chain. I went there. It was a whole upmarket shopping centre. AC bliss, posh cafés – didn’t check what they charged for espresso – and the superhypermarket. And yes, there was a bag or two of coffee beans, made in Ivory Coast, 1900cfa for 500g, double the price of ground coffee. I thought I can look somewhere else, there is a “budget” hypermarket around the corner according to Google. I walked inside enjoying the temperature. There was a bookshop and they had post cards. A lot of them strangely featured naked boobs of the local women, you know, “this is how they dress”, but I managed to find something less obtrusive, 3700cfa. Of course there is no change! Seeing I am in another shopping dimension and there are two, wait for it, credit card machines, I offer to pay by card.

And I did. I had to show my passport and it went on to be photocopied. Two salespeople involved in the sale.

In the complex there was even post office but something has to be closed on holiday and the office was shut.

There was also pharmacy – pharmacies are one type of business around here that is always closed on Sundays and holidays although to be honest there are adverts of pharmacies that are de garde – on a 24 hour watch. However in the pharmacy they had no idea what violet/purple liquid I was asking about and they offered me a standard red coloured anti-septic. Nope.

I walked towards what Google marked as Budget Hypermarché when I saw another shopping mall – Cap Sud. Possibly even more luxurious – there was even a Bose shop – than the previous one, hypermarket there was and there o found my coffee. 1kg for 2550cfa! So I bought it – coffee I buy but masks I refuse, there is no logic in me – and walked back to hotel. On my way I passed a small restaurant where I took coffee, this one was 300cfa, one must pay for privilege of sitting on chairs proper.

Next point of programme: centre artisanal. Eish it turned out to be just behind a corner around the hypermarket I found coffee in. But that I found out in the hotel. Abidjan is full of taxis but who am I to be driven around? So I walked again. On my way I saw a man with a wheelbarrow full of pineapples selling freshly squeezed juice. 500cfa for 0.5l. As I didn’t see any machine I asked him how he made the juice. He puts the fruit into a plastic bag brings on gloves on his hands and by his own hands he squeezes the juice out of the pineapples!!! I have no words.

Walking to the centre artisanal de ville Abidjan I saw a thick smoke coming out of buildings looking like factory. It smelled coffee. Could that be…? Yes it was, bloody Nestlé! On the tower above a big advert of Nescafé.

The art centre in Abidjan is surprisingly nice, batik materials, jewellery made onsite, glass paintings and masks. I really only looked at masks and there were a few nice ones. I particularly liked a Dan mask with a complete feather headdress. Asking price 90kcfa.

In the evening I had the usual: fresh salad with hand-made vinaigrette for 509cfa, a roasted carp with onions for 2000cfa (they either had these or the big ones for 5000) and a Guinness in a bar inside.