Issue 140 : April - May 2005
Tribute to Simon
Milward in Africa
MZ 1000SF
Ducati 620 Multistrada
Fred's Run
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Tribute to Simon
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Milward in Africa
In this update we go through Cameroon (where I visited the beach), Nigeria and Benin. Togo here is a French speaking 50km wide sliver of West Africa on the Gulf of Guinea, and the Togolese are very friendly, apart from the three guys the other night who tried to mug me. They got away with an empty plastic bag. I jumped on the back of a scooter taxi and got away. The government sponsored banditry in the Central African Republic continues after leaving Bangui the capitol for the two day ride West to Cameroon. At one place the whole town comes out to watch the spectacle of me arguing loudly with five gendarmerie. They had leapt on me with glee after I rode the wrong way round a roundabout. I always try to attract as big a crowd as possible in these situations as I feel like they always take my side. Ten minutes shouting and stomping around, five minutes speaking more calmly, and I leave for free. Later I'm at a roadblock staffed by drunk soldiers firing guns for fun and I am scared. Two sober officials come to my rescue. Later still, two stoned soldiers sit astride a mounted machine gun stuffing snuff (or black cocaine) up their noses, they wobble wide eyed as they stand, and giggle. The town at the border brings the final showdown. Four of them are on to to me even threatening to take my passport away unless I pay the fictitious fee for standing right there. I later tell locals about how terrible the corruption is in CAR. I turn from my fried chicken and avocado to find a police chief lurking within earshot. Next morning I get up and leave before light, out of reach into no man's land and wait for immigration to open.
Cameroon is a relief and a recovery. A welding rod or two is added to the bike I spend a lot of time washing and rewashing things. Bathtubs at the Yaounde Hilton turn the colour of mud. I get the Nigeria visa, thanks to Riders for Health for the invitation, and pay a quick visit to the beach. Yaounde has some of the best street food yet with delicious spicy sauces. I get the runs. Soon I arrive in Cameroon's Anglophone north west. I am unprepared for the Anglo police. At the first barrier I play my usual trick of not stopping unless I have to, looking the other way or pretending to be deaf. The feeble hesitant blow on the whistle somehow made me stop and turn round. I arrive at the kiosk, out comes the burly gentleman in impeccable elaborate uniform. He appears to be about to burst into tears then he salutes. I am puzzled, then figure he probably isn't used to people according him so much authority. All the Anglo cops salute me. I pull up at the Royal Palace in the town of Bali where I am greeted by seven Royal advisors in the outer court and warned not to cross my legs as I sit. I explain my case and accept a glass of the local distilled produce. His Majesty Dr Ganyonga III, Paramount Fon of Bali, receives me at his throne on a large terrace overlooking a green inner court. Wooden carved elephants and lions sit at each side, a huge leopard is pictured behind the throne and cushions and skins of leopard abound. His majesty is well in touch with the needs of his 40,000 subjects and we discuss motorcycle maintenance in health work. He bids me return in the morning for a breakfast discussion, I do, and make a note to send him something.
Nigerian people fall into a special category of genuineness and many talk of revolution. But they are afraid to protest because they fear for their lives. The government is said to be the world's most corrupt and the oil companies attract a lot of criticism. I wish I had stayed longer to get to know Nigerians better, they rank very high in my estimation. I completely overlook going to the oil companies for donations. Escape from Lagos's traffic brings me to Benin. It is argument time again with both customs and immigration over their failed attempts at extortion. I wait two nights in the capitol Cotonou for a visa extension. Here the beach is used as a toilet, beware of mines! Many thanks to the Hotel de la Plage. I check out a village called Ganvie, built on stilts in a lake and a 400 year long dynasty of twelve Kings at a place called Abomey. I go to a town where voodoo religion is strong but find little to be educated with. It was then Christmas eve and time for the beach. The beach time is an opportunity to reflect on life and what I am to do with the rest of mine. I must say it is all quite exciting ! Later : A cockroach lands six inches from his head on an electrical socket. He is making last minute preparations because he expects two to three weeks of dirt tracks now at the tail end of the rainy season. Tomorrow he heads NW into the Democratic Republic of Congo visiting Aru and Aba, before turning NE to Yei and Tambura in SW Sudan, then West into the Central African Republic. With refitted Michelin nobbly rear tyre, new clutch cable and timing belt, adjusted valves and refilled Scottoiler, new cans of WD40, oil, and sardines, he is ready. In his pocket is a US$35 permit sold by the rebel Sudan People's Liberation Army SPLA representative in Kampala. Despite a recent peace agreement there is still said to be a war on. The Ugandan five weeks is a humanitarian boost for the Millennium Ride with donations of over US$1,800 lead by Worldwide Movers Ltd Uganda (www.wwmovers-africa.com) with US$500. The total raised is now nearly US$112,000. Fine how are you? The well surfaced twisty mountain main roads of these countries brought me back to Colombia. Cyclists hang on to the rear of trucks going uphill and spiderman-like hitch-hikers cling on above. Up and down and round and round it is a pleasure once again to scrape the bike's undercarriage and arrive with a buzz at Bujumbura in Burundi. This is the city at the northern tip of Lake Tanyanika. Burundi men at junctions in towns cheer and clap as I ride past. Could a tourist be a sign of the end of the tribal strife? The soldiers are wearing three different uniforms, one tries to extort a fine for lack of working indicators. "Show me your documents I want to see your documents now," I demand. He nervously gives my passport back and walks away. I fit front tyre number 10 (Metzeler Enduro 3), the last Brazilian made Pirelli lasting a very surprising whole year from Sao Paulo! I thank Novotel Bujumbura for the two sponsored nights and the local Pirelli dealer for the engine oil. Rwandan women and children lend a hand at roadworks, in fact whole villages seem to be involved. I pass 1994 genocide memorials, to the Hutu murder of 800,000 Tutsis. I take a photograph of a memorial and point to it asking a group of local women and children walking past "Tutsis?" The response is a laugh that sends a shiver up my spine. The five peak Volcano National Park in Rwanda, which hosts the Rwandan gorilla population, was beautiful. The scenery here, right on the border with DRC, would be complete with a few dinosaurs. It was nice to get back to Uganda especially since the wildlife highlight of my journey was about to start - the gorilla trek. Gorilla Tracking A short truck ride and an hour's walk through banana, millet and tea farms brings us up to the forest. The advance trackers radio to our guide. We stop to deposit day packs and see bushes rustling 20 metres ahead. We move slowly forward with cameras at the ready. The guide grunts as we approach, signalling contentment and ease to the gorillas. He pulls away foliage to reveal a happy gorilla face eating fruit and casually glancing in our direction. Wow! a gorilla looking right at me. There are about 50 gorilla groups and in total about 700 gorillas, four of which are 'habitualised' (trained to tolerate human presence). One of them climbs a tree for us then swings around a bit. The back hair of males turns grey with age (hence the term silverback) and they are at least twice the size of any of the females and youngsters. The lazy silverback in our group sleeps for almost the entire hour whilst mother plays with the children. One rushes at me to scare me but I hold my ground and click off a close up photo, the eyes have it. A toddler digs a hole and falls in head first, emerging covered in soil (just like I used to do!) and then beats his little chest. Authorities here have been recognised for their efforts at preserving and promoting the gorilla population in face of continuing traditional threats: local farmers who need the land for growing food and poachers trading in gorilla steaks. The Dian Fossy Gorilla Fund (www.dianfossey.org) is the best site for them and the best pictures are here: http://homepage.mac.com/dianfossey/PhotoAlbum2.html Thank you to the Uganda Wildlife Authority (www.uwa.or.ug) for sponsoring this US$370 trek. Is it worth it for tourists? A resounding yes! From Sudan onwards it is the White Nile. When it joins the shorter Blue Nile from Ethiopia it is called simply the Nile. In Murchison Falls National Park (sponsored by the Wildlife Authority) I take an incredible boat ride up the Victoria Nile for a few hours. We see crocodiles sunning themselves with jaws wide open (some guides try to make you believe it is so that birds clean their teeth by picking off left over chunks of baby hippo). I see countless pairs of hippo eyes, rounded rock-type backs and an occasional massive yawn. Eagles perch on high branches, other birds dive into the river hoping to catch a fish and large buffalo herds turn away from the boat. Murchison Falls come into view and we go as close as safely possible. The 54m wide river is forced through an opening 7m wide by 40m deep where it drops 30m. Crocs wait at the bottom for animals accidently washed down the white foamway.
I get quite busy again giving presentations at the Uganda Tourist Board exhibition (www.visituganda.com), the Ugandan Bikers Association (UBA www.ugandabikers.com), the International School of Uganda, the Kampala Rugby Club and the Nile High Full Moon Party of Adrift in Jinja. UBA, a motorcyclists group of black and white bikers, recently completed a trans Africa twelve bike motorcycle ride for AIDS awareness and have fundraised a substantial amount for schooling AIDS orphans. Recent road tax increases are disproportionately high for motorcyclists because the government says it is not worth the trouble to collect the small amount justified. There was quite a lot of media coverage of my ride in Uganda and raising US$1,800 was comparatively easy. I regret not putting more time and effort into it. In the gorilla territory of Buhoma I meet Dr Scott Kellermann of Medical Missions for Batwa Pygmies (www.pygmies.net). Scott is famous for his work with the small people and research into tropical diseases and cures but what interests me is that he is buying two motorcycles for reaching outlying villages with primary healthcare services. Simon Milward |
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At the turn of the century FEMA General Secretary Simon Milward launched himself on a voyage of discovery and adventure while helping others . . . 
CAR is ripe for revolution. I stop in one town for a drink and to do a few bike checks. Fifty people gather after ten minutes. The town public security police had already checked my passport thoroughly. Now they return to tell me to pack up and leave, there are too many people in one place it is a security risk. The people are nearly all children!
Before we leave CAR, thanks to the Catholic Cathedral who put me up for free and also to Hotel Levy (atniel@intnet.cf), both in Bangui.
Terrible roads see me out of Cameroon and into Nigeria. If Cameroon was a relief after CAR, Nigeria is a relief after Cameroon. Nigeria feels almost first world. The police are amazing and turn out to be among the best cops in the world! They nearly never ask for anything. When one did start and caught my already mounting protest he immediately switched to a happy song with a genuine smile and wave onwards.
KAMPALA REVISITED