So firstly, the bus there. Anyone who has grown up in Northern Ireland will be used to Ulsterbus (or, National Express if you are in GB). There is a printed timetable, the bus goes at the appointed time whether there is one person on it or almost a hundred (in the case of students), luggage goes in the hold or on the seat beside you.
Not so in Cameroon.
Bus operators have made the realisation that not all UK operators have Рempty buses waste money! Conclusion Рthe bus doesn't go until every seat is sold, though on busy routes, passengers can estimate an approximate time of departure. In Yaound̩, this can mean going to the depot, buying your ticket, seeing only 5 tickets are sold and knowing you can go across the street for a haircut, a cup of coffee and a sandwich.
On exceptionally busy routes, Ulsterbus will have 41 seated passengers and potentially that number standing (in my experience anyway) – unless they go on a Motorway and are legally obliged to give everyone a seat. La Kribienne give everyone a seat on one bus (shuffle up, make room!) but do enforce a safe maximum.
So, onto our particular journey. We had been worried that we might have to squeeze into a 'Bush taxi' – a 25-seater minibus that thanks to creative seating will accommodate 40. No worries – we arrived to find something that from the outside resembled an Ulsterbus Goldline coach. We got the authentic bush-taxi on the way home though.
So, looking forward to reclining seats, leg room, etc., we bought our ticket. This is a more time-consuming affair than we are used to, as our names had to be written down on our tickets. This has something to do with internal security checks as we move between Cameroon's provinces.
Ticket bought, bags in hand, we went to the bus.
Ulsterbus Goldliners seat 20 rows of 2 each, plus 5 along the back. Cameroonian operators have figured out a way to get more people into the bus (and, I suppose keep the ticket prices low) – smaller seats. 3 abreast on the left, 2 on the right. Plus stools for anyone they pick up after leaving the depot. To cut a long story short, we were to occupy the window and middle seat of a group of three with someone else in the aisle seat. Our luggage was to be under our feet and Alison's legs somewhere uncomfortable.
Ulsterbus provide a kiosk for drinks, magazines etc. Not so Cameroon – vendors give you more convenience by either coming into the bus or selling through open windows.
Selling done, every seat sold, we were off. After a few minutes we stopped at the petrol station and were off again. An employee of the bus company went up and down the bus calling out names and amounts of money - “Nsom – 4,000; Mbanga 2,000.....” Was this some lottery that all passengers were entered into? No – lots of people had paid the fare (3,000 CFA, around £4.20) with a 10,000 CFA note (the highest value note in circulation) and the office had simply ran out of change (which was acquired from the petrol station). In fairness to La Kribienne, Ulsterbus would have the same problem if every single passenger went into the office with only a £20 note.
Onto the open road we went and after 2 months in the city, it was fantastic to see open greenery that stretched for miles. It was also interesting to pass through villages and have dozens of people run up to the bus to sell fruit, water, watches, cooked meats. It's certainly more efficient than getting everyone on and off again at a service station!
Through the village we go and the man who gave people back their change gave out freebies – ginseng sweets. No mere free gifts - these were free samples. In a sales pitch that would have made Ryan Air proud, he went on to describe how this stuff could restore hair, improve eyesight, ease pains, help weight loss and give you children. It was also available as a cream to rub in (that smelt like Deep Heat). Every box was sold. Next item – Aloe Vera toothpaste. I've no idea how it compares to Colgate but every tube of that went too. I kept wondering what Michael Palin would have made of it all.
3 hours, several checkpoints and a pair of sore backsides later, we arrived at Kribi. It was lashing down and there was no taxi rank in sight. No fear – the local taxi drivers' call of “Monsieur Le Blanc” before we even got off the bus assured us we would have a lift. Hey, it's a tourist town and they know tourists might pay a little more than regulars!
According to Ben West's guide, the taxi fare should have been around 2,000 CFA (£2.80). I offered our driver this and he suggested 3,500 CFA (£5) was a better price (inflation?). I could probably have done better but after 3 hours in a bus neither of us could be bothered thinking in French or haggling in French, or declining in French and having to wander through soaking rain to find a taxi rank with a better price (that may or may not exist). So off we went. Our driver was concerned about the quality of our chosen hotel (too far out of town, poor quality rooms, bad food, grumpy staff) and was most insistent that we use a better hotel in town he could recommend. We declined, having booked somewhere recommended by several people and 20 minutes later arrived at the Illomba Hotel.
It was beautiful.
The staff were fantastic.
The food was great.
See – this is what we looked out at during breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Most of the day, in fact. You couldn't not relax, even of you tried.
To come – beach traders; restaurants; our friends arrive; the bridge gets washed away....
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment