19 days and 1 hour after leaving Hyde Park, the Battlestars and their crew have landed safely in Douala. The cars have clocked up 7400 miles each over desert, earth, potholes, gravel and tarmac. We've travelled through 10 countries (including two where right hand drive vehicles are illegal), 7 border crossings, one live minefield and we estimate around 200 police (or variation there of) check points. We've managed to keep a clean sheet with regard to bribery and corruption, yielding not one penny or 'souvenir' to any green-eyed fuzz, nor have we incurred one speeding ticket between us. That we know of. Road kill has been kept to a blissful minimum and not included any mammals, only reptiles and their feathered relatives. Non-organic casualties of our driving have included BSIII, a couple of walls and a police check point barrier/stick - depending on your frame of reference. We've used 7 out of 9 spare tyres although two were prophylactic changes and some of our present spread we couldn't be bothered to change, so we just bashed them back into shape with a hammer. Most of us ran out of clean underwear over a week ago.
During our journey across West Africa, we have crossed 7 borders and have met many immigration officials who have checked our visas, stamped our passports and written out their registers (with the exception of the crossing at Kirawa, from Nigeria into Cameroon where Bruce was recruited to write out the register for the very pleasant official!). However, we have also had to visit the customs officials the "Douane" at each border to show them our Carnets de Passage and to get them stamped. On almost each occasion, Bruce and I have been sitting in a little hut with the Customs man and after we have shown the officials where they need to sign and which part of the Carnet they need to keep, we have usually managed to be on our way within half an hour.
If you speak to anyone about driving through Africa they'll usually finish with a throw away line that of course no one drives in Africa in the wet season. Wet season is roughly June to October. So far, our wet problems have been limited to a bit of mud here and there, a few fordable rivers and some phenomenal thunderstorms. I've got that feeling at the moment though, the one you get when the pressure is building and the clouds are going to burst sooner or later. Other things currently troubling me are the fact that every last one of the overloaded zombie killer mini-coaches veering into our path from the south has got a snorkel, the rivers are getting increasingly swollen with water and there's some very big jungly looking mountains on the horizon, partially obscured by grey clouds. I might dig out my waterproof at the next stop and make sure that spade is handy.
Following on from Shitmitten's blog, he seems (as we all were) very certain that we would be in Cameroon by the time you got to read it, although we were very nearly all proved wrong...
We were headed to Kerawa, on relatively good black top with the occasional pot-crater here and there, especially positioned in our path whilst overtaking and avoiding yet more livestock. The Adventurists are very clear that you must cross (for car importing reasons) one of three boarders where we were advised the boarder guards would be fully briefed and would provide a smooth crossing. Maybe when we got there but the last 8km 'ish' to the boarder was by far the worst we've encountered; it was great!!! This is what it's all about. There were stagnant water filled holes in the 'road' (in the loosest sense of the word) that you could quite easily lose a car of our size in. The Battlestars were going to the extremities of the road, then reversing back and trying a different way, trying to keep off the crops of the adjacent boggy fields and coming very close on many occasions to both getting stuck or rolled. Excellent skilful driving by all prevented either of these two disasters occurring; well done team. But the real stars of the show have to be the Battlestars. I'm amazed at what these babies are triumphing through, the battering they've taken and they're completely road worthy, still comfortable and with the assistance of a little hill and a fair wind they'll still do a 100mph safely'ish'.
By the time you read this we'll be in Cameroon! After a sterling team effort yesterday and a twilight dash for the fantastically named town of Potiskum we were put within striking distance of the border this morning. It's been a short but fascinating run through Nigeria which I've actually really enjoyed. One in five Africans is a Nigerian which becomes apparent the moment you cross the border as the population density increases that much more. As English is the official language communication is significantly easier and I've really enjoyed talking to these enthusiastic, exuberant people.
From Bob the customs official at the border who held my hand (as is common for men to do in this part of the world) while we cerebrated on good routes from Nigeria to London and he laughed maniacally at my farmer's tan, to petrol station owners putting in phone calls for us, to see if there's accommodation at a small town on the map not mentioned in our guide books. I've even found the police and immigrations officials pleasant although my favourite are the road safety guys. What's absolutely hilarious about this concept is that the Nigerians have stolen my crown for the planet's worst drivers. This greatly revered title was previously (and deservedly) held by the Indians after a strong performance from their utterly psychotic truck drivers. However, the Nigerians have a special talent for the common man's ability to turn a knackered, headlightless aged Toyota van into a the automotive equivalent of a scud missile. All this while smiling and waving. In a move of sheer genius our new road safety friends pulled Bruce yesterday for a chat to see whether or not we were carrying a fire extinguisher and a red warning triangle. We were; we all laughed; presumably at the utter pointlessness of it all.
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19 days and 1 hour after leaving Hyde Park, the Battlestars and their crew have landed safely in Douala. The cars have clocked up 7400 miles each over desert, earth, potholes, gravel and tarmac. We've travelled through 10 countries (including two where right hand drive vehicles are illegal), 7 border crossings, one live minefield and we estimate around 200 police (or variation there of) check points. We've managed to keep a clean sheet with regard to bribery and corruption, yielding not one penny or 'souvenir' to any green-eyed fuzz, nor have we incurred one speeding ticket between us. That we know of. Road kill has been kept to a blissful minimum and not included any mammals, only reptiles and their feathered relatives. Non-organic casualties of our driving have included BSIII, a couple of walls and a police check point barrier/stick - depending on your frame of reference. We've used 7 out of 9 spare tyres although two were prophylactic changes and some of our present spread we couldn't be bothered to change, so we just bashed them back into shape with a hammer. Most of us ran out of clean underwear over a week ago. 
If you speak to anyone about driving through Africa they'll usually finish with a throw away line that of course no one drives in Africa in the wet season. Wet season is roughly June to October. So far, our wet problems have been limited to a bit of mud here and there, a few fordable rivers and some phenomenal thunderstorms. I've got that feeling at the moment though, the one you get when the pressure is building and the clouds are going to burst sooner or later. Other things currently troubling me are the fact that every last one of the overloaded zombie killer mini-coaches veering into our path from the south has got a snorkel, the rivers are getting increasingly swollen with water and there's some very big jungly looking mountains on the horizon, partially obscured by grey clouds. I might dig out my waterproof at the next stop and make sure that spade is handy.
Following on from Shitmitten's blog, he seems (as we all were) very certain that we would be in Cameroon by the time you got to read it, although we were very nearly all proved wrong...
By the time you read this we'll be in Cameroon! After a sterling team effort yesterday and a twilight dash for the fantastically named town of Potiskum we were put within striking distance of the border this morning. It's been a short but fascinating run through Nigeria which I've actually really enjoyed. One in five Africans is a Nigerian which becomes apparent the moment you cross the border as the population density increases that much more. As English is the official language communication is significantly easier and I've really enjoyed talking to these enthusiastic, exuberant people.
