Cameroon Raid

Day 16 Aug 2004

CAMEROON RAID

CAMEROON RAID AUGUST 2004

"The woman with the little motorbike", I often heard people say at every stop we made — the woman with the little motorbike was me, I who had dreamed of Cameroon for years, that Cameroon I'd come to know through "Passion for Africa," the true story by Claude Njikr-Bergeret. A passion for Africa and a passion for motorbikes — I was living a dream, my first raid with my "little motorbike," right in that country which, through Claude's stories, I had so longed to visit. When I learned that Alex was organizing this trip I decided without the slightest hesitation to take part; I bought the motorbike, I trained, and off I went........the desire to "race" along the red tracks through the lush forest was so strong that nothing could stop me.

The closer it got to August 6th, the day of departure, the more the tension rose; I was afraid of the mud of the "soap track," I knew it would rain — August in Cameroon is the rainy season, and what rain it was... As soon as we arrived in Douala we realized the situation: the greatest difficulty was certainly not the rain, but the bureaucracy.......The slowness of Cameroonians is beyond words, everything slowed down to the point of being unbelievable, hours and hours for everything — bank, car rental, etc. Not to mention the customs clearance of the motorbikes — a full four days we had to stay, against our will, in Douala because of the long hours of bargaining, stamps and signatures.

Finally everything seems OK, the appointment is for Thursday morning at 8:00, everyone perfectly on time, but then yet another surprise!!!!!!! the departure is postponed, only at 12:00 can we put our helmets back on and leave. A crowd of locals surrounds us and makes the departure even more exciting; my "heart was in my throat," I was so emotional, so emotional that when I saw Ines's little head with my video camera poking out of the window of the car ahead of us, I couldn't hold back the tears

Our destination was Faumban (the last town reachable on paved road), but a torrential rain caught us halfway and we were forced to stop at Bafoussan. We reach Faumban the next day, where we visit the museum, admire the many objects reserved for the cult of the village chiefs, chiefs of the "chefferies," such as thrones and masks, of the Bamileke culture. Among all the ethnic groups of Cameroon, the Bamileke is one of the most admired for the skill of its craftsmen in wood carving, to the point that Bamileke wooden sculptures are considered among the most original on the continent. We set off again toward Banyo; after only a few kilometers I hear the joyful shout of my travel companions, accompanied by a resounding "finally"!!!!!!!! The asphalt had ended, the track was beginning...

Another emotional moment (I was the only one inexperienced in off-road riding) — we were getting into the heart of the journey.....Alex stayed behind me for a short stretch, then he too left........I was alone, with the "little motorbike" from now on we'd have to learn to face anything......... At first I was a bit hesitant, but the track turned out easier than expected, I felt safe, I started to accelerate and the more I accelerated, the greater the pleasure of being there........ I catch up with my companions after about ten kilometers, we stop for a frugal meal and then immediately set off again; the sky was turning threatening, pitch-black clouds were on the horizon and there, right on cue, the rain again. Now I couldn't allow myself to get emotional, much less to hesitate; I had to focus and go without delay.

There were still 160 km to Banyo when Alex stopped the group to assess the situation; the track was holding up well, visibility was poor due to the incessant rain, but the group unanimously decided to continue. In Mayo Darle we find a place to stay for the night, we decide to stop; by now it's dark, Banyo is still about sixty kilometers away, we'd reach it the next day. It doesn't stop raining all night and the next day we set off again, always accompanied by our now inseparable companion.....the rain; we reach Banyo and, just outside the town, there's the "soap track" and the first tumble...

I don't want to think about my... fortunately nothing serious, neither for me nor for the motorbike; meanwhile.

Riding on the beautiful tracks.

Together with the motorbike.

That August 6, 2004.

We left.

All under a leaden sky.

The roads flooded.

So many kilometers.

Drenched to the bone.

Body and soul.

A veiled Amazon.

Anna. This entry did not include a commentary. Riccardo7 Ancient User Posts: 1815 21-08-04 17.37 #6