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February 3, 2013 / samwilson60


From Bafut we headed on to Bafoussam, halfheartedly in search of a medical professional to examine Sam’s stool (still not quite what it should be), but by the time we got there the moment had passed and we were both more interested in the footie. We nevertheless got ourselves a room at a hotel (with the promise of tent on patio) just round the corner from a very enthusiastic ‘paraclinic’. Having checked they would still be on hand the following day (Sunday), we trotted off in search of more immediate relief/refreshment and some long-overdue blogging.

We found a great little internet café on the high street, where we perched on the shaky wooden upper floor for hours on end. Literally through sunshine and showers, we soldiered on, pausing only when the power cuts forced us to. Once we’d got up to date, more or less, we agreed emails could wait until morning (failing to register that morning was Sunday and the internet café would be closed) and headed out to reward ourselves. We feasted on street food and can now reliably say that pork and plantain is an awesome combination, miscellaneous meats a bit hit and miss and maize – although it looks just corn on the cob – is just rubbish, truth be told.

Our feasting conveniently led us into a bar showing the latest Cup of Nations match – this time Togo v Algeria. We, and the locals, it seems, were firmly behind Togo – bottom of their group after matchday one but that just made them seem lovable underdogs, and we are Togolese residents these days so it only seemed right and proper. It was soon apparent that Algeria were not the heavyweights we’d billed them to be, if only by comparison, and Togo stormed to victory while we stormed our way through meat and beers. Rather merry, we tottered back to the hotel and passed out in our room – big mistake. Soberly, we insist on sleeping in the tent for a reason and when we awoke mummified in the sheet, tormented by incredibly agile mosquitoes, we remembered why.

Still, Bafoussam had been great – yet another Cameroonian town with a good vibe and minimum hassle.

Checkpoint of the day, heading to Bafoussam: “Step out of the car, Sir. I must explain something to you.” The guy was pretty stern and looked genuinely troubled but we were already laughing/crying inside and Sam was armed with the carnet before he’d finished his sentence. Three guesses what the problem was!



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