“…the horror… the horror…”
No, I wasn’t like Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now half mad in a hotel room in Saigon. I just arrived at my hotel in Freetown after a huge odyssey. The trip from Conakry to Freetown was the hardest day of traveling I’ve ever had, and it deserves an own article therefore.
Planning the trip from Conakry to Freetown
Let’s go back a few weeks. I just booked my second West Africa trip where I would see four new countries. A trip from Senegal to Sierra Leone. The only country I would leave out between these countries was Guinea-Bissau. There shouldn’t be enough time for that.
One of the biggest questions before this trip was how to get from Conakry to Freetown. The two capitals of the two neighboring countries Guinea and Sierra Leone are basically not far apart. According to GoogleMaps, the 250km take only about six hours. This route was my preferred option, also because the flight with Ethiopian Airlines cost 340 Dollars. For 40 minutes flight time!
However, I became skeptical over time. In some entries in the TripAdvisor message board it was claimed that this trip would take at least 12 hours. Could it be that Google Maps is so wrong? I asked in the legendary Every Passport Stamp group on Facebook, a group full of country collectors like me. Many members are much closer to having seen all the countries in the world. Pure wisdom is thus gathered there. There, however, my fears were confirmed. Several members wrote that they had between 10 and 14 hours from Conakry to Freetown overland.
I bit the bullet and eventually booked the flight. After all, I wanted to see as much of Sierra Leone as possible. The country is rich in beautiful landscapes and with the flight I would have arrived at 8 o’clock in the morning and had three full days in the country. But it happened differently.
Two weeks before my trip I received an e-mail informing me that the flight from Conakry to Freetown had been canceled. Ethiopian Airlines, however, was kind enough to offer me an alternative. They offered me a route from Conakry to Lomé and from Lomé to Freetown the day after my original flight. You have to imagine it this way: you have a direct flight from Lisbon to Madrid, which the airline cancels. Afterwards, the airline offers an alternative route: from Lisbon to Moscow and from Moscow to Madrid. A 40-minute flight would have become a 12-hour journey.
In addition, I would only have had one single day in Sierra Leone if I had taken this alternative route. So I had to deal with the overland route again. After all, I didn’t really have a choice.
7.20AM: I leave my hotel
The owner of my hotel told me I had to be at the bus station at 8 AM to get from Conakry to Freetown in time. So I left my hotel at 7.20 AM. The owner first told me not to pay more than 40’000 Francs (~4 USD) for the taxi. Then he instructed the receptionist to find me a taxi and negotiate the price for me. He repeated emphatically that it was the receptionist’s job to negotiate the price for me. He asked his employee “Tu-as compris?!” – “Oui,” the receptionist replied, but with his facial expression I could see that he didn’t understand what his job was. And so it came that the price of the taxi was 50,000 Francs. Never mind.
The trip to the bus station took about half an hour and the more we drove out of Kaloum, where I had my hotel, the worse the city seemed to become. I experienced Conakry as a very dirty city the day before, but I didn’t leave Kaloum, supposedly the most beautiful part of the city. Only now did I see the full ugliness of Conakry.
The taxi dumped me at the entrance and a guy led me to the car that would drive to Freetown. The owner of my hotel recommended that I book the two front seats for myself, as this would give me more room. I did and paid 220,000 Francs (~22 USD) for it. “When do we leave?” I asked the person who collected the money. “When the minibus is full.” – “When will that be the case?” – “Probably in two or three hours.”
It was 8:00 in the morning. So we would probably leave at 11 o’clock. ‘Shit,’ I thought. I just wanted to get out of Conakry as soon as possible. And three hours can be very long at a bus station. I lit a cigarette and sat down. Flies circled around my head and it smelled unpleasantly like a sewer.
The minibus had space for about 10 people and 16 seats were sold. I wasn’t sure how many seats had already been sold, but I estimate about half when I arrived. So I sat there. And waited. Every few minutes new salesmen came by and sold water, biscuits, hygiene products and other stuff. At least I didn’t have to starve.
Little by little I made friends with the other passengers. They were all people from Sierra Leone who came to Guinea for different reasons. Some had business to do here. Others visited their family. They seemed to be very nice people in any case. Three children were among them. Two girls around the age of 8 and an even younger boy.
I was still speculating that maybe the best case would come and we would leave after two hours, at 10 AM. However, this seemed to become more and more unrealistic. In the meantime about two more seats were sold. Still not enough.
Time passed and at some point it was 11:30. Slowly but surely I asked myself if it theoretically could be that we would not start at all on this day. Imagining that was pure horror. Another day in Conakry and one day less in Sierra Leone would have been the last thing I needed. “Don’t worry,” said the woman next to me, “we’re definitely going!” I was glad that I was surrounded by English speaking Sierra Leoneans in francophone Guinea.
In the meantime, the two girls were fighting and I was about to finish smoking a pack of cigarettes. I also chewed down both nails of my thumbs terribly. I was nervous. It was noon now and 1-2 seats seemed still not to be sold. I wondered if I should just pay for the remaining seats, but found that I didn’t have enough cash with me.
At some point, I was also thinking about a possible plan B. The alternative flight of Ethiopian Airlines would probably be too expensive. But I also thought about whether I should take the next best flight to another country – if we actually don’t leave anymore. But even that was easier thought than done, because I had my return flight to Europe from Freetown and had to be there in two days at the latest. Besides, most countries in this region require a visa, so you can’t just fly easy peasy to another country without the required documents. And I already had a visa for Sierra Leone that wasn’t a bargain. I knew that I had no choice but to wait and hope that it would start soon.
What was also very annoying were the potential passengers who first came to us, but then didn’t want to buy the ticket because of the price or because they would have had to pay an additional 2-3 Dollars for their luggage. You think again and again ‘ah well, a seat is sold again. It starts right away’ and then the passenger pulls back and you are as far as you were before.
Conakry to Freetown: the beginning
At some point, someone called out that the last seat was sold. Hallelujah. I looked at the clock and found that it was 13:30. By the time we actually left it was almost 2 PM. So I didn’t wait two or three but five and a half or almost six hours until it finally started. On the roof of the minibus there was everything: Tires, sacks with dead animals in them, other food and my luggage.
It was a pure traffic chaos when we left the bus station. Our completely overloaded minibus passed several stands at the station, in addition there was oncoming traffic on the one-lane way, which should lead us out. But finally we left Conakry to Freetown. Nevertheless, it took almost two hours until we got out of Conakry, as the city is stretching quite a bit and the traffic is terrible.
Whatever. I was relieved. Finally we drove and I came closer to my 84th country. All the thoughts about whether we would actually start or whether I would need an alternative route were gone. However, the real journey only began now and I did not know what was still to come.
It wasn’t long before I was confronted with the facts again. Because the most difficult part of the journey from Conakry to Freetown came now. After we left Conakry and its suburbs, the road changed from asphalt to dirt road.
Next came streets full of potholes. Kilometers long. Actually they were almost small craters rather than holes. The road was full of them and the driver drove with maximum 15km/h around these mini craters. I have tried to make some videos, but I have the feeling that the videos do not do justice to reality. The holes are much less visible than in reality.
Before the trip I thought that I could at least sleep a little in the car. But my seat didn’t have a headrest and on these roads it shook us so hard that even a five-second sleep would have been impossible. Needless to say, the car had no A/C.
What makes the journey from Conakry to Freetown even more difficult are the checkpoints on the Guinea side. Here a handful of soldiers line up and demand a toll from the passengers. This toll goes of course directly into their pocket. But not only ‘le blanc’ has to pay but everybody. Fortunately, a passenger told me before the departure how many Guinea Francs I would need for these checkpoints, so that I always had the appropriate amounts in my pocket.
After spending at least two hours on these terrible roads, we arrived at the first of supposedly three checkpoints. The driver collected the money from all the passengers and paid the soldiers. However, one of the soldiers saw ‘le blanc’ sitting in the front seat and immediately thought of a nice extra income. “Passport,” he said to me through the window. He then studied the pages of my passport completely and gave it back to me. I then heard him say something about “mille Francs”. I replied in bad French that the driver had all my money and that was the end of the matter.
If you travel West Africa by road, you will unfortunately often find yourself in such situations. This area is so corrupt that it is normal for soldiers or policemen to want to improve their miserable salaries by taking a few Dollars from tourists. Often they demand small amounts. But here is the dilemma. As a traveler you can play for time and refuse to pay. But you have to ask yourself if it is worth it to be stuck somewhere because of 1-2 Dollars for half an hour or more. Of course it is not. On the other hand, refusing bribes is the only right thing to do to fight corruption. If everyone pays, this practice will continue.
T.i.A. – this is Africa
We drove on towards Freetown when I suddenly heard a loud bang. A flat tire. Fate really didn’t mean well with us. The car stopped in the middle of nowhere and a new tire had to be found.
I always perceive Africa as a continent of improvised problem solving. Europe works in such a way that one protects oneself in advance against all possible problems. In Africa you just try it until the problem is there and then think about how to solve it. Someone from our car stopped a motorbike and went with that to the next town to get a new tire.
What impressed me on this trip from Conakry to Freetown was the camaraderie among the passengers. When someone opened their biscuit pack, they shared it with everyone else. Water was also shared with each other. We were all united on this journey. What connected us was the long journey and the anger towards Guinea. Seriously, all Sierra Leoneans in this car nagged about Guinea and I could fully understand it. Sierra Leone is much more developed than its neighbor in every aspect.
There was, however, another concern. The border between Guinea and Sierra Leone supposedly closes every day at 6 PM and it was already 4.30 PM. But the passengers said that there was no problem. The border was 1.5 hours away and even if it was closed, we would get access with money. “This is Africa,” said one passenger. “A closed border does not exist. Sometimes you just pay extra.”
Still, I was nervous about it. What if we had to buy our way through customs? Probably it wouldn’t be expensive. But would that also apply to me? Wouldn’t it be more realistic that ‘le blanc’ would have to pay ten times as much? And I really had almost no cash with me. In the worst case, I would have to spend the night at the border while the bus continues. A horror scenario.
We stood about an hour at the place where the tire burst, until it was fixed again and we could drive on. Nevertheless, I did not believe that we would reach the border punctually at 18.00 o’clock.
Crossing the border
The stage in Guinea from the trip from Conakry to Freetown slowly came to an end. With asphalted roads we would probably have finished the part in Guinea in two instead of six hours. I kept looking at the clock and noticed that it was 18.30 already. Fortunately, we arrived at the border a few minutes later.
First I saw a sign saying that this road was financed by the European Union. I wondered which road was meant by this road. The road with full of potholes we were driving on in the last hours? But actually I couldn’t care less now.
A last checkpoint followed on the Guinea side, where I had to pay another 5,000 Francs. Then we reached the right border. I was exhausted from the trip because I had been on the road for 12 hours now. And I wasn’t at the finish yet. Besides, I practically didn’t eat anything all day. I drank enough water, but there was nothing but a few biscuits. Needless to say, I was hungry.
“Never give up your passport out of your hand,” said one of the passengers. “If they want to see it, show it to them, but don’t give it to them.” Again, there was the danger of becoming a victim of corruption. And in fact the warning of my fellow traveler did not seem to come by chance.
I had no choice but to hand the passport to the customs officer who was to give me the exit stamp. What else could I have done? Lift the passport into the air and the customs officer gives me the stamp like this? The customs officer took my passport, looked me straight in the eye and then said “money, money” while he walked into another room with my passport.
I shouted another “no!” while he disappeared. And so I stood there without my passport and wondered what would happen next. Maybe it was due to the fact that three others from my bus stood next to me and also said no when the customs officer left with my passport. But after a few minutes the guy came out and gave me back my passport. That I was looking for the stamp in the passport obviously bothered the guy. “Is finish now!!” he yelled at me and pointed to the door. First a white man doesn’t want to pay a bribe and then he scrolls around in his passport. That was probably too much for the man.
The fake visa
Oh, there’s one detail I haven’t mentioned yet. I had a visa with the wrong dates. Two weeks before my departure to Africa I received my visas for Guinea and Sierra Leone. With the visa of Sierra Leone I noticed that something was wrong…
The visa was issued on 18 January. Unfortunately, it was only valid until the 19th January. So one day. Logically this was a mistake by the embassy. There is no visa for Sierra Leone that is only valid for one day. They wrote 19 January instead of 19 February. But try to explain that to a customs officer. Sierra Leone is not as corrupt as Guinea, but it is still West Africa.
Before I went to Africa, I solved the problem alone. I could have sent my passport back, but since the visa was written by hand, I decided to do the adjustment myself. So at some point my visa looked like this:
It didn’t look perfect, but my strategy was to just stay stubborn and claim that I got it that way from the embassy if the customs officer would give me a hard time.
I was still nervous when I gave my passport to the customs officer. I was already over 12 hours on the very exhausting journey. If now this little misfortune would end my journey, it would be very annoying. Also annoying at that moment was that I had no cash on me. Because in the worst case I could have given the customs officer 50 Euros as a “gift” if problems arose.
The man inspected my passport. He looked at the visa and my first page several times. Is this the end of the journey from Conakry to Freetown? No. He stamped my passport and gave it back. It seemed that I just passed the final obstacle.
The final stage
Finally, everything seemed to turn for the better. Because there was food! A woman with a pot sold African food to the travelers. I, almost starving, bought a piece of roast beef with sweet potatoes and pepper sauce. One got the food in a plastic bag and without cutlery. So I ate the meal like an animal with my bare hands. There came a first checkpoint on the side of Sierra Leone and I appeared there with the piece of meat in my right hand and pepper sauce spread over my face. The soldier at the checkpoint looked at me disgusted and waved me through without me having to show the passport.
We certainly spent a good hour at customs, if not more. All the people from my bus were spread out and there seemed to be zero organization. I was just glad I ate and smoked the last cigarette I had on me. It was probably 20:30 or 21:00 when we left the border. Anyway, it was already pitch dark and the last part of the trip from Conakry to Freetown was about to start. We had been on the road for over 14 hours and everyone just wanted to get there as fast as possible.
Fortunately, the roads were good now and we made fast progress. At least faster than in Guinea. After an hour we stopped at a rest area or something like that. Now we had to unload the car. At this point my patience fell to zero. It was already after 23 o’clock and I was done. This day didn’t seem to stop.
Freetown, here we are
A good two hours later we arrived at the outskirts of Freetown. One of the passengers was Mohammed. Mohammed is 25 years old and he will become one of the main characters during my time in Sierra Leone. Since his place of residence was close to my hotel, we got off earlier than the rest of the group.
Now it was about finding a taxi to Aberdeen, the district where my hotel was. Interestingly, in Freetown, you just wave a passing car in and ask the driver to drive you to your destination for a few cents. But other people get in as well. It’s like UberPool. So six people were in the car during the last three quarters of an hour.
Mohammed went into the hotel lobby with me. I reached my goal. Finally. I said goodbye to him and that I would get in touch with him the next day. When I came into the room, I looked at the clock and it was 2.30 in the night. From the time I left my hotel in Conakry to Freetown, 19 hours passed pretty much exactly. For 250 km!
I was completely emptied after this trip. The overland trip from Conakry to Freetown was my longest and hardest travel day ever. But I made it. My recipe for success was a lot of patience and a good portion of humor. Without that you go under on such a trip, which is characterized by long waiting time, terrible roads and corrupt officers.
In the end, there’s only one thing to say: West Africa ain’t for pussies.
Wanna read how the story continued in Sierra Leone?
Click here: Travel Report: Sierra Leone – Country #84/197
