Let me introduce myself so you're not embarking on this nostalgic journey with a total stranger.
I'm Melanie Ball, a university science degree drop-out, widely published travel writer (an accidental career borne of my African journey), author of three bushwalking guidebooks (Top Walks in Victoria, Top Walks in Tasmania & Top Walks in Australia), and hat decorator under the name Appliquez Moi. (That's me with the sun-bleached hair and west African fabric sarong. I don't know the baby chimp's name because we weren't formally introduced.)
From infancy my parents read to me and my sisters — C.S. Lewis’s Narnia series on long drives to Queensland for summer holidays, Paddington Bear in bed with Mum on Sunday mornings— and encouraged us to read to escape, to learn, to laugh. No book was off limits and all three of us are life-long voracious readers.
Two very different books profoundly influenced the teenaged me: Wilbur Smith’s When The Lion Feeds, the first of his multiple adventure novels set (mostly) in colonial southern Africa, and Jane Goodall’s In The Shadow of Man, detailing her ground-breaking study of wild chimpanzees in Tanzania. (Jane Goodall's recent death, in her sleep, aged 91, while on a talking tour, made me sad but also made me re-examine, remember and celebrate the extraordinary life and works of the woman who David Attenborough called "the conscience of conservation".) Together and separately, those two books ignited in me a romantic fascination for Africa and determination to go there, a dream that I finally realised at the age of 26, when I joined an Exodus Expeditions London to Johannesburg overland adventure. I had reached London by overlanding with Exodus from Kathmandu to London (11 weeks of ups - close encounters with rhinoceroses in Nepal, sunrise on the Taj Mahal, the wonders of Istanbul - and lows - five weeks of Delhi Belly that, surprisingly but thankfully, left me with an iron gut), and explored Egypt for several weeks, but my 17 months away from home were predominantly about finally experiencing the extraordinary continent that is Africa.
When my passport (containing multiple visas) was stolen from my daypack on the London Tube the day before the tour departed, my dream was all but dashed. But the passport was newly issued in London and, faced with my near-hysterics, the efficient and compassionate Australian Embassy staff issued me a new passport in one hour!
And so, the adventure of my life began.
P.S. I have edited excerpts for poor grammar and to protect the innocent and the guilty.
P.P.S. Most photos in this blog are scans of prints - and I didn't take many before reaching Morocco.
Hard morning drive and I began to think that these jarring roads would go on forever. The "best" road was just better enough to allow for some disturbed sleep and just wide enough to prevent us being inundated with debris through the truck sides. And then we hit good, flat road and we reached a speed that seemed reckless after our crawling tempo of the last days.
Lions roaring was the background music for breakfast, everyone soaking up that epitomic sound of Africa. Birds, bugs, and other unseen animals all contributed to the morning chorus. Moving on, we made an early water stop at a derelict hotel - a right dump-where we were supposed to camp. Washed in the river before continuing but shouldn't have bothered.
Into Parc National de la Pendjari after extended entrance procedure, with officials working through the necessary paperwork at snail's pace.
Didn't want to get up this morning; would have loved to stay curled up but soon on the road again. Crows nested: cold but lousy roads so not moving too fast to enjoy the great scenery. Had to detour down into dry riverbeds where mud and wood bridges had either fallen through or their edges were so worn that the way was only a metre wide and ragged. Lots of birds early on, including a stunning black headed and tailed bird with shiny, bronze cape-like wings. Passed close to a bushfire and stopped the truck to listen to the crackling flames.
Drove all morning in mist, then all afternoon in sunshine. Collected some cotton along the road before turning towards the national parks and lurching along a badly potholed track.
Early foggy ride on asphalt, arriving at the World Heritage Listed Palace D'Abomey Museum late morning, where we gained a fascinating insight into the three centuries of Benin royal life before French colonisation (12 successive kings from 1625 to 1900). The princely sum of CFA100 (30c) bought us a 75-minute guided tour through the two semi-restored palaces of the D'Abomey Kingdom, which originally covered 40 acres and were enclosed by a 7m high mud wall (see https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/323/).
Misty and damp start today, and I cooked breakfast in the dark. Sat in the crows' nest when we drove on but it was cold up there and my sunglasses kept fogging up. The mist distorted every sight and sound and it felt like we were in a murder mystery but we knew it would be sunny by mid-morning.
Up early for a refreshing swim and a game of water volleyball, followed by a pig-out breakfast.
Vicki and I stayed in camp with Gary and Linda while everyone else went back into town to arrange more visas.
Into the city of Lome, where we parked the truck outside two cassette shops competing with each other for the loudest music. Could hardly hear each other yelling from one end of the truck to the other arranging the guard roster.
Today featured a long winding drive through hills, rounding crazy bends marked with skull signs. A movable warning sign on the roadside alerted us to a semitrailer crashed halfway down a hill from one bend, its load of cartons of Benson & Hedges cigarettes strewn all around. We had visions of making some fast money reselling them, but the unfortunate crew had set up camp very close by and watched us suspiciously as we leapt from the truck armed with cameras to record the scene. Couldn't work out quite how the driver had managed to finish up where he did - until we drove on, past many broken barriers where trucks had crashed and careered over the edge, their abandoned carcasses stripped and rusting.
Found a discarded local axe when I went to the toilet and dusted it off as a souvenir.