Getting transport to Cotonou was easy. I took my sweet time getting out of bed and even out of town. I had a double sachet of Nescafé in a cup for 400cfa and a plate of rice with some sauce, tasty, for 500cfa. Around 11am a woman working in the auberge came out on the road and stopped a car going to Cotonou. 1000cfa.
The driver didn’t speak French! And around here, people normally don’t know where the place you’re going to is, they don’t know the street names but they know neighbourhood names and landmarks. So I read the neighbourhood names from Google Maps and sometimes they are in the right place (i.e. where people know them) and sometimes they are not.
The guesthouse I was going to: La Guesthouse, which I found, wait for it, in Lonely Planet of all places (Lonely Planet is rather useless) was in Sehogan. Noone knows where Sehogan is. But the guesthouse was near Place Etoile Rouge, a communistly named big roundabout so we managed with the driver.
I got dropped a street away from the guesthouse. It’s, I would even say, a hostel. Places to hang around, expensive food. It was 9500cfa but only with shared showers. And it had fast WiFi! I am starting getting spoiled. And there were 7 French young people staying there.
I left the guesthouse to walk around city. Cotonou isn’t anything pretty. It’s flat grey and busy. I was planning to apply for DRC visa there, it was supposed to be cheap at 40kCFA, but the night before I was reading reports on iOverlander and there was a new message from last week in April – someone was denied entry based on the fact that his visa was issued in Cotonou. And then I looked at the border crossing reports and there again – people getting denied entry because their visas were issued in Cotonou. So, let me not take risk. I can apply in Brazzaville even if it costs much.
So, walking around Cotonou. I went to a restaurant, Chez Maman Bénin, not far from the guesthouse, it was recommended in the Rough Guide. The restaurant looked late communism style but there are waiters in uniforms. There is menu with foods I don’t understand but I used Google to translate and I picked telibo – a dough made from yam flour, dark in colour and sauce gboma, which was thick vegetable sauce with pieces of meat. Very tasty. The telibo was gluey and wasn’t anything to write home about. Pity coz I like yam. I also asked for ginger juice and I got it, from a capped bottle. Like, the type you can buy in shops. Wow, civilisation, progress. The juice was alright. However the price of all of it was a bit high, 3800CFA.
Then I took a zemidjan, 300cfa to the post office. The driver had no idea where it was so I had to direct him using Google Maps.
Outside the post office there are people selling all kinds of stationary, including postcards. 200cfa per piece, bargain, I posted what I needed. In the same building, separate entrance there was a cyber café, I printed my hotel booking, needed for Congo visa, where I wanted to apply the next day. 100cfa.
And from the post office I walked the wide grey Cotonou streets. I found coffee, and I think it may as well be one of few places in Cotonou where coffee is served. Inside Italians were occupying a large table. Espresso served from capsules, 1000cfa, pain au chocolat 700cfa, expensive but I spoilt myself.
From the cafe I walked to the Dantokpa market. It’s a sprawling grey busy market but I walked on the bridge and the views were nothing special, mountains of garbage on the shores of the river. There were moneychangers, possibly all Nigerians. I started asking for rate, and they were all giving me all kinds of rates but I knew it’s 360naira to a dollar. Finally someone agreed to that rate. And I changed 100 dollars. And I got tricked out of 10dollars in naira. Ah, Nigeria, always finding a way to piss me off. The trick is that I don’t get the full amount in my hand and there comes endless counting by both sides and you get tired of waiting the end they hand you the amount that they counted and it’s correct but it’s not. Sounds simple. Call me naive. But then again, on Nigerian side of the border there are no money hangers. On Benin side of the border the money changers are mainly interested in cfa to naira change. Not dollar/euro to naira. In Nigeria banks refuse to do exchange service and you’re left with street money changers. They are usually Hausa men and well. One has to be careful.
I only counted the money back in the guesthouse but I felt something went wrong. I walked back to the guesthosue, stopping on my way for a bottle of Beaufort.
After dark I took a zemidjan to a place called Le Roi Du Shawarma, where supposedly best shawarma in town was served. The place after dark felt a bit seedy, empty and the area around was already dark and empty. The shawarma sandwich was a whopping 2000cfa and if was mediocre. But the place has been there for many years so maybe it’s good?
I ended the day sipping Guinness in one of the small maquis around the guesthouse.
Coming back to Maman 