Guinea Conokry

28 June: It was Guinea Conakry’s general elections the previous day and unsure about the stability of the country, we decided to take only the bare necessities with us. 

It was a short ride on motorbikes to the border, where we ignored any gift requests.

The border officials in Solo took forever to write our passport details down, but for once I was living in the now and just enjoyed the light rain outside.



We were banned from using the path on the mine

A slightly uncomfortable bike ride to Gbakore to pick up the permits followed.  Our drivers stopped at the entrance of a mine, and we were told to ask the South African guy for permission.  We were more than surprised when not one, but two South Africans arrived twenty minutes later.  We were taken to the empty conservation office, where we were advised to go back to Selinbala for a guide and accommodation before climbing the mountain.  Nothing was said about the permits.  

It was my turn to sing “Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me”, when we were invited for lunch at the mine.  Between Alan and I, we had 2 dry rolls and 1 liter of water with us.  Once again, there was no place to buy any food.  After 82 days in West Africa, my body was craving vitamins and whatever else it needed.

When Alan, as usual, held out his plate for my meat/chicken/fish, he got a nasty surprise!  I had convinced myself that the chicken was free range – and would have eaten his chicken kebab as well.  My strawberry fanta tin was also empty, he just stared at me in surprise.  I wanted to kiss David, the South African who offered us the meal!

Looking for transport back to Selinbala could have turned out to be a problem but Al said we must go with the flow.  Yes, but what if we hit the waterfall, I replied!  20 Minutes later we were on our way to Selinbala, once again thanks to David.

Once in Selingbala, our driver arranged a guide and we were taken to the guesthouse.  The mist has lifted and going for a hike, we discovered just how big a distance we had hiked the previous day.  My blisters were acting up but as the Nimba range was so spectacular, it was definitely worth it!

We entertained the village children by taking their pictures and videos and then I cried on Alan’s shoulder.

• My hair was past dry and had turned grey,
• Thousands of wrinkles have sprung up on my face,
• My insects bites were festering,
• I have lost too much weight and my pants were falling off me,
• My boob size has shrunken to a size AA,
• I’ve just eaten a chicken!

Entertaining the village children

My future was clear – I would remain single for the rest of my life.

When Al mentioned that I could always obtain a certain electrical device to help me with one of the negative sides of being single, my crying turned hysterical.

That evening - peace reigned in the village.  Singing and storytelling could be heard and I guess because of all the crying, I drifted into a peaceful sleep.

29 June. 02h00. It is pouring outside and I can just imagine us hiking in the rain, blisters popping. I try to be positive, 12 hilly hiking hours lay ahead.  We had 2 dry rolls and 1 liter of water.

03h30: I am fully awake.

06h00: The rain has stopped.  We have two guides and a magical experience followed.  The 3 hour steep uphill through the forest was followed by a 2 hours steep hike through the savannah.  One of our guides got sick so luckily we only had to share the two dry buns with one other person.  Once on top of Sir Richard Molard, the mist lifted and we had a spectacular view.  It was magical with clouds 50 meter below us.  The descent was just as spectacular.



Flowers on top of the mountain

I started to plan ahead.  Since it took us 2 less hours to do the hike, we could make it back to the Liberian border in time.  Al complained that I was back to rushing ahead.  The truth hit me head on: throughout my life, I’ve never been satisfied with what I have achieved.   As soon as I get to the top of a mountain, I am off again – rushing to the next mountain.

After paying our respects to the chief, we rushed to the guesthouse, just to be stopped by the ECO Guide, who demanded to see our permit.  Since we had no permit, we had to accompany him to his office. I had no idea if his office was 2 or 30 km away.  I tried to stay calm, feeling the seconds ticking past.  At his office (only 2 km away), I page through a book while Al handled the political aspects.

All of a sudden, a woman was brought in and she showed me her cancer riddled breast.  It was grotesque and left me speechless.  When I looked in her eyes, I stared into nothingness. The Eco Guide then explained that he used plants to cure the sick people who came all the way from Conakry.  I was then asked to take pictures of another patient, covered with bleeding sores.  I had no idea why I had to be there but felt somehow, connected.  



On top of Sir Richard Molard

After taking a picture of the ECO Guide (and paying the 50 000 L) he escorted us back to the village, where he gave us some leaves to enhance our appetite (just our luck with no food in sight).  If we could find a motorbike to take us to the border, we could still make it.  But there was no motorbike or villager in sight, and I suspect it had something to do with the permits.

I finally made peace with the idea of spending another night in Guinea Conakry.  After the 21 km hike, I was starving.  Al asked our host for food, and expecting cow belly and intestines, I was overjoyed when two big plates of rice and maggie was placed in front of us.

30 June: I was once again being crippled by fear of the unknown.  The hike to the Liberian border was not totally unpleasant.

With the guide on top op Guinea Conocry's highest mountain