Driving 'The Beast' through Africa
Guinea
by Isabelle Demaeght, March 2nd, 2025
After the hustle and bustle of Conakry, we drive to a quiet campsite on the northern coast, run by Frenchwoman Joëlle. A perfect place to take a breather. From here we can walk along the beach to visit Hotel “Bel Air” - a place I first visited 19 years ago as part of an experiential trip through World Solidarity
During that trip, one of my fellow travelers called the hotel a “decadent place.” At the time it was still in business, but only a few years later it went downhill. During the last renovation, the contractor went bankrupt, the receptionist told us today, and after the coup, it was taken over by the state. Now the pool is empty and there is an air of past glory - a silent reminder of what was once an ambitious project.
On the way to the coast we drive past mines and excavated mountains, with signs in French and Chinese indicating that resources are being extracted here. Further along, we see how roads and transport lanes are being built by the same companies. The Chinese ex-pat superintendents are easily recognized by their straw hats.
On the way back, we take a route inland, to the dam and hydroelectric plant on the Souapiti River - another Chinese project, commissioned in 2020. The reservoir is still full of drowned trees.
Construction involved housing about 16,000 people from 101 villages higher up. Along the road we see newly constructed neighborhoods everywhere, the kind that in Europe would be called “social housing.” A landscape in transition, where large-scale development is leaving its mark on both nature and the people who live there.
Even more than in South America, here we rely on sleeping places in the wild. Sometimes we find them through iOverlander, but often we just follow a road to a less populated area and see where we end up.
For example, on Feb. 14 we “celebrate” our first wedding anniversary in the company of a group of curious young people. The first group arrives with their spoils of the day: a serious snake and a ground squirrel, shot with a slingshot. For these teenagers, hunting is not a sport, but a way to find extra food.
Not much later, their little group gave way to a second, who preferred to hang out with us and cozy up and eat with us. (We always share our meals with visiting children - today our version of Senegalese Yassa with rice.) By sunset, I kindly send them home, but by the first light of dawn they are already back (for French bread with ... Nutella!).
We begin our crossing through the interior of Guinea (we drive around Sierra Leone and Liberia this way). After the town of Kankan the asphalt ends, from here on we have to make do with 200 kilometers of broken earth road.
Adriaan begins to specialize more and more in roadside assistance. So we pass and help a group of men with a stranded motorcycle (cable on spark plug better fixed), and a little later a Ford Fiesta without fuel.
In the back seat is a literally deathly ill woman. I pull out a paracetamol and a bag of water and hand them to the driver, instructing him to give them to the sick person. Gratefully, he accepts the tablet - and promptly wants to put it in his mouth himself.
Adriaan pours them some fuel. Meanwhile, another motorcyclist and even a truck are stopped: the Ford must be pushed, because the starter motor has not worked (for years).
The road remains extremely difficult, and we are glad when we finally find a quiet place to spend the night. In our opinion, we are well hidden. It is hot, the insects buzz around us, but we enjoy the silence - insofar as it really exists.
In the middle of the night, just after we leave the tent for a while, we suddenly hear movement in the area. Before we fully realize what is happening, someone shouts loudly, “Qui êtes-vous? Descendez!” (Who are you? Get down!") Not a calm question, but a command.
As we step out from under the tent, we realize we are surrounded. Eight soldiers with Kalashnikovs stand in the glare of our lamps, accompanied by two men in plain clothes. The tension is immediately palpable, especially since they are not just talking, but questioning us in loud voices. We remain calm, show our passports and try to explain that the roads were so bad that we had to find a place to spend the night. They don't seem convinced.
One of the soldiers calls the colonel, consults briefly, and pushes his phone into my hand. A sleepy voice sounds on the other end of the line. I explain the situation again. A brief silence follows, after which he mumbles something. That seems to be enough, because a moment later the soldiers fade away without further explanation, and relative calm returns.
Oumar, the “chef de village” (one of the men in plain clothes) thought we were bandits and sent for a squad of soldiers from Kankan (2 hours of driving in the dark on this bad road). He comes in the morning to apologize for the nighttime inconvenience and invites us to his settlement down the road. At least it gives Adriaan a chance to take some nice pictures. And to learn something about the way of life in this remote village.
It takes us a few more days to reach the southern town of N'Zérékoré. We drive and plod through beautiful stretches of nature: pristine rainforest with rice fields or other small vegetable gardens in the lowlands, then balding mountains again. Unfortunately also fields of palms (for oil from dates). But the forest giants are mostly left standing - better than along the Amazon.
Along the way, we get an offer for an elephant tour. For a hefty sum, we could see two elephants (equipped with a GPS tracker). We hesitate and eventually let it pass us by: we have already seen herds of wild elephants and there will be more to come.
We do visit a Catholic mission. Four nuns trained in Benin lead a team of 20 workers there. They started five years ago with a bare lot - now there are houses, guesthouses, aviaries with poultry, a pigsty and a huge garden with all kinds of vegetables. There is electricity from solar batteries, animal manure forms biogas for cooking, their own compost serves to enrich the soil. Completely self-sufficient and in balance with nature. We buy a delicious head of lettuce, harvested on site.
In Bossou, in southern Guinea, we can't resist a trip through a stretch of protected rainforest (in search of chimpanzees). Here, man and chimpanzee once lived together in harmony. Until last year, when a chimp took an eight-month-old baby. The child was later found mutilated. Out of anger and grief, the villagers set fire to the research center - from which the tours depart. Together with some French people, we venture out on the tour. The rainforest is overwhelming, but the chimpanzees are too fast for us....
The French family also wants to wildcamp and we choose an iOverlander spot. Stephanie has information that a small road along/through the Nimba reserve would be usable. We start on it while they fill up with water. When the very rough motorcycle tracks no longer appear on the GPS map, we stop. The much larger car of the French has already chosen the wider road. We are 'stranded' in the middle of the reserve (but this time no one has seen us and the army can sleep on). We cook a meal and enjoy the peace and quiet.
Not much later we cross the border into Ivory Coast. For the third time in my life (2006 World Solidarity, 2012 roundtrip with son Andries) I leave Guinea, but this time with a disappointed feeling.
I saw abject poverty in a country full of agricultural opportunities, but and so little will to fight. What stays with me most is the expectant, questioning attitude of the people. Would it really be as Doris (in Conakry) or Joelle (beach camping boss) said? That Guinea has not moved forward, but backward? But why do 4 nuns manage to build something beautiful? Do corruption, coups and (Islamic) religion lead to apathy?
We immediately notice that things are improving economically in Ivory Coast. The roads are well maintained, the cars look less dilapidated and there are supermarkets where we shop immediately in our first town (called Man). Man is located in a valley surrounded by mountains and hills. However, a mountain hike is out of the question - the heat is too oppressive and oppressive.
Adriaan would like to go on to Abidjan to get our visas for Ghana and Togo in order, get some rest, wash our very dirty clothes and plan the rest of our trip. (More on that in a future update).
We drive via the capital Yamoussoukro to Abidjan. In Yamoussoukro, we visit the impressive basilica. Four years of work went into it. According to our guide, it is officially the largest basilica in the world, but more people fit in St. Peter's in the Vatican. Regardless, it is immense. Almost all the building materials were imported from Europe and the seats have individual grilles for cool air.
In Abidjan, we find an apartment that meets our requirements (bed, shower, toilet and... fiber optic internet and airconditioning) and begin the visa applications. The e-visa for Ghana alone takes us hours, and then all the documents have to be neatly printed as well. There is general annoyance at how difficult it is to get a “Schengen” visa, and we receive equal treatment, but now for each African country all over again.
Now we have nothing left but to wait until March 5 for our visa. Fortunately, we have time here to look around a bit, write a blog episode, pay bills and complete a few more tasks.
PS Meanwhile, in Senegal, “our” electricity connection in the school is actually working now.