Traveladventures.org: Africa

Pictures from Algeria

Djemila
Ruins of a Roman city on a small triangular plateau surrounded by mountains: the original name Cuicul was changed to Djemila (The Beautiful One) for a reason: you can spend hours exploring the baths, temples, arches, markets, and much more.
After spending a night in Sétif, and finding the museum with the famous Triumph of Venus and the Triumph of Dionysos mosaic closed, I look forward to moving on to Djemila. Within minutes after arriving at the bus station, my bus leaves; to my surprise, because it is not full at all. I am even more surprised when I pay my ticket: it is absurdly cheap. I have understood that getting to Djemila from El Eulma can be difficult, and I am wondering how much a taxi would cost, and how much I am willing to pay. I ask around anyway, and again, I am lucky. It turns out the minibus leaves within minutes. We drive north, then take a turn to the east, driving higher into the mountains. In some parts, there are still pockets of snow at the roadside. It turns out the bus stop is right next to the entrance of Djemila, and the guard is more than happy to store my bag in his small office.
Arch of Caracalla, one of the highlights of Djemila, once was the south-eastern entrance gate to the Roman city
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Constantine
Ancient city of bridges Constantine is built on a rocky outcrop towering high above the Oued Rhumel and as such has a natural defense, as well as a rich history, with alleys and bridges to explore.
When I arrived in Constantine, it was dark and windy, and I wondered what the city would look like. I went for a stroll, under the galleries of the town, until I reached the large square that marks the entrance to the old town. I decided to save it for the next day. But when I wake up to heavy rains, I decide to first take care of my bus ticket. It turns out that the new bus terminal is far out of the city, which seems pretty ridiculous. I am in a shared taxi, we get stuck in traffic, so I now finally see the city at a slow pace. This is the wrong side of the city though, a modern part, with nothing noteworthy. Fortunately, when I am back in the central area of town again, the sun manages to pierce through the clouds, and I walk across the Place 1er novembre to enter the old town of Constantine. Called Cirta in Roman times, it was renamed to Constantine in honour of Roman Emperor Constantine.
University Hospital appears through part of the Sidi M'Cid bridge
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El Atteuf
The first village to be founded in the M'zab valley, El Atteuf has some details, like city gates and the tomb of a sheikh, that hint at its age, while the inviting locals might end up giving you a surprising evening.
After a pretty good night on a bus from Constantine, I see a beautiful sunrise on a totally different landscape from the northern mountainous region. After some hassle finding a place to sleep in Ghardaïa, the main town in the M'Zab valley, I decide to start from the beginning, and visit El Atteuf first. It is the oldest of the five villages in the valley. A half hour bus-ride brings me to the foot of a hill on which I can see adobe buildings and the easily recognizable shape of the M'Zab valley minarets on top. I have read that I am supposed to enter with a guide, but it is not clear where I should find him. Moreover, the driver of the bus points me to the hill, and tells me to just walk up the street ahead of me, and so I do.
The old town of El Atteuf covers a hill in the M'Zab valley
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Ghardaïa
The largest of the five villages in the M'zab valley, the noise and hustle of the new parts of Ghardaïa dissolve behind you as soon as you step into the twisting alleys of its old town, with or without guide.
After my adventure of the day before, which ended in the police demanding the owner of my hotel to open up for me and let me sleep in my room in the middle of the night, I am up early again. Fortunately, Moabites, or Ibadis, are early risers, and I can push the door open. I walk along the banks of Wadi Mzab, until I reach the foot of the hill on which the town of Melika lies. I quickly climb the stairs, salute the guys walking down, and am up on the hill well ahead of sunrise. This little town is very quiet, and offers great views of the other two Moabite towns in its vicinity. After the first rays of the sun make it over the ridge of the hill, it is first the formidable minaret on top of the old town of Ghardaïa, and then the rest of the town, that gets set on fire.
Sunrise over the old town of Ghardaïa

Beni Isguen
The strictest of the M'zab villages, Beni Isguen is the only one still completely walled, with a watchtower, a market place, and large palm tree garden right at its feet.
After walking over from Ghardaïa, I walk around Beni Isguen, trying to find a good viewpoint of this Moabite town. I have to climb a steep slope with rolling stones to a road under construction, from where the view is great. Just like the other medieval towns in the M'Zab valley, and also recognised as a World Heritage site, the square houses seem to tumble down the hill on which they are built, with the single minaret standing high above the houses. I walk around the ramparts of the town - the only town still walled in the valley - until I reach the main gate. On my previous visits, it turned out impossible to find a guide, and I know that Beni Isguen is stricter still in this regard. Indeed, there is a big sign in various languages, saying that visiting is really only possible with a guide. Opposite, an office, with opening times. I duly wait, snd wait, and wait more. People greet me, and tell me that the office should open soon. When I have waited for almost an hour past the advertised opening time, I have had enough. I cannot wait longer, and I walk into the town anyway. Just like the other towns, there are very few people around.
The old town of Beni Isguen, dominated by a minaret

Timimoun Old Town
Lying at the southern fringes of the Grand Erg Occidental, the old town of Timimoun is situated on the edge of an escarpment with views of the sand dunes of the desert with typical adobe houses painted red.
When the driver shouts: Timimoun, I wake up after an uncomfortable ride on the night bus from Ghardaïa, and when I get out of the bus with a sleepy head, a strong wind blows sand in my face. It is pitch dark, and I decide to wait for sunrise in the terminal building. On a TV screen mounted to the wall, a nature documentary about the Mississippi shows a fertile land with birds and crocodiles, while even inside, sand creeps in everywhere. When it starts to get a little less dark outside, I set out to walk to the town, and hope it is not too far. Soon enough, my hands are so cold that I consider taking out my gloves, but with this sandstorm blowing around me, opening my bag does not seem like a good idea, so I just continue walking. After some searching I find a good place to stay, and with the wind howling around the walls, I just stay put and hope things will improve soon. After hearing so many good things about Timimoun, I am stuck inside a fancy room.
Red painted adobe walls and sandy streets are typical in the old town of Timimoun

Sebkha Circuit
The obvious excursion from Timimoun is the Sebkha circuit, which offers abandoned ksars, oasis towns, caves, and a ride across the sand dunes and the old salt lake before returning to Timimoun.
After exploring the old town of Timimoun, I want to get out into the desert. The dunes loom in the distance, across the sebkha, or old salt lake, and it is only a matter of arranging things. After the sandstorm of the previous day, I am a little cautious, but when I wake up to a bright, sunny, and quiet morning, I cannot wait to get out. But I have to wait. First, things seem to be arranged, but then, it suddenly turns out we need permission from the gendarmes, and since it is a Friday, they cannot be found. No one ever mentioned this the evening before when I tried to arrange a ride around the Sebkha Circuit, so I am surprised and disappointed; even more so when the guys who are supposed to arrange this, disappear. Meanwhile, I get in touch with two Algerian ladies, who are interested in joining me. Ten minutes later, the guys are back, there is a car and a driver, and apparently, the permission is OK now, so we are on our way.
Adobe house with palm tree trunk in Ighzer

Taghit
Dwarfed by high sand dunes on one side, and a rocky escarpment on the other, the oasis town of Taghit is squeezed in between both, with plenty of things to do and explore.
When we pull into the small town of El Ouate, I tell the driver of the bus to Béchar that I am on my way to Taghit. He indicates I should get off, and guides me to another minibus. There are only few passengers outside, but I am lucky again: within half an hour, the bus is full and we leave. After driving a couple of hours along the base of the sand dunes, making frequent stops, we finally reach a higher point, from which a great panorama opens up before our eyes. Below us, the town of Taghit, and directly behind, the sand dunes that frame it. After we arrive at the small square, and some walking around, I find a traditional hut to stay in, and directly walk towards the old town. Unlike Timimoun, there are very few people left in the old town: most have moved to modern houses outside the ramparts of the old town.
Sand dunes rise from just behind the old town of Taghit

Tipaza
Right on the edge of the Mediterranean, the Romans built Tipaza, where you can explore ruins of the ancient city under pine trees with the sound of waves in your ears - a most comforting place.
A bus-ride from Algiers takes you to Tipaza, and from the bus stop, it is a short walk to the small museum. It has some finds of the Roman city, like mosaics and statues, and is good to warm you up for what is coming. Once you get to the entrance of the archeological site, there is a sign saying that no pictures can be taken, which seems strange for an open-air space. Right behind the entrance is the oval-shaped amphitheatre, or rather, the ruins that are left of it. Tipaza is not big, and I am at the crossroads of the Decumanus Maximus and the Cardo Maximus before I know it. Here, I find an anonymous and the new temple. I follow the Cardo Maximus until I reach the sea. After having spent a while in the interior of the country, it is good to see the sea again, and to hear the soothing sound of waves crashing on the rocky coast.
Looking towards the sea along the Cardo Maximus

Algiers Casbah
Towering above the modern and elegant city of Algiers is its Casbah, where narrow alleys and stairs lead up the hill with beautiful mansions and decorative elements even in the simplest houses.
Just before leaving the country, I find time to visit the Casbah of Algiers. The warnings are severe: it is supposed to be an unsafe place to go, and I decide to stick to the lower parts. When I stop at one of the mosques, guys are making remarks, and the feel is totally different from the relaxed one I had during my travels around Algeria. I need to return to my hotel for a fresh battery anyway, and decide to leave almost all my stuff in my room. I walk back to the Casbah, and am in full alert for what happens around me. At the same time, I am curious to delve e into this famous old part of Algiers, which was considered so dangerous even the police did not dare to go inside. When I stop at a small bar which is decorated in traditional style, the owner invites me in, proudly shows me his shop, and gives me a drink when I leave. From below, the casbah looks like a giant white layer on top of a hill, and now I am about to get a closer look of what is behind that white layer. Upon closer inspection, the white of the houses is not always white anymore; the Casbah could do with some maintenance, especially since it is a Unesco World Heritage site.
Part of the side of Djemaa Ketchoua, mosque in the lower Casbah of Algiers

Pictures from Angola

Pungo Andongo
The rock formations of Pungo Andongo rise spectacularly from the savanna below: enormous monoliths in different shapes, which have acquired legendary and mythical significance for the locals.
The road from Cacuso deteriorates quickly, with frequent potholes forcing our driver to slalom te road. The landscape is flat, and it is hard to believe we are on our way to the rock formations of Pungo Andongo, until we see a group of rocks on our left. We stop for the views, and to our surprise, the driver does not turn, but continues further southwest. It is only when we reach the village of M'Banza N'Dongo that we see a second, bigger area of rock formations and yes, this is where we turn. A short drive takes us around and inside the area of Pungo Andongo. To our surprise, we find a small settlement, a well protected place between the rocks rising high on all sides. We take a dirt track which leads us further into the rocks, until we reach the end. To our surprise, we find a staircase on the rocks, and we climb until we reach the top of the rock.
Rock formations at Pungo Andongo

Kalandula Falls
When you see a rainbow in the spray of Kalandula Falls, while listening to the endless rustle of falling water, and watch the continuous fall of water into the abyss below, you know you have come to a special place.
After an early morning visit to Shipwreck Beach just north of Luanda, we take on the long drive to the east, passing N'Dalatando on the way. The further we travel, the more beautiful the landscape, with a baobab forest and modest mountains replacing the plains near the coast. We drive through the village of Kalandula, and know we are getting close to our destination. Then, the road ends, we get out, and walk to a viewpoint with the sound of falling water in the background. When we step into the old concrete structure, the view leaves us speechless. Before our eyes, we see Kalandula Falls in their full beauty, with a bright rainbow in the spray below. These are the second or third biggest waterfalls of Africa (depending who you believe), and even though it is dry season, the view is so beautiful we stay for a while to watch the scenery in silence.
View of Kalandula Falls with rainbow from the viewpoint

Shipwreck beach
On a long stretch of beach, one shipwreck after the other, all rusting away in the surf, being hammered by the strong waves of the Atlantic Ocean - on a misty morning, a special sight worth the detour.
When we leave the main road just north of Cacuaco, a suburb of Luanda, it directly becomes a dirt track. We have read stories from people not finding the right track and getting stuck in the sand, and are happy our driver knows the way. We take a left, and in the distance, we can already see huge ships rising from the sea. We are not approaching a port, but this Praia do Santiago or Praia do Sarico has been dubbed Shipwreck Beach for a reason. It is the resting place of ships and boats which for one reason or another have been discarded. A ship cemetery. When we get off our car, we step into a foggy, humid, and empty beach. The contours of hulls of ocean vessels rise above the sea, and there is a constant sound of waves pounding the rusting carcasses.
Big wave crashing into one of the shipwrecks in the surf

Fortaleza de São Miguel
Dominating the Marginal and symbol of the colonial heritage of Luanda, the star-shaped Fortaleza de São Miguel looks younger than it actually is and under serious construction.
It was my first visit to Angola and its capital Luanda, and it seemed logical to start exploration of the city at the most historically important place - the Fortaleza de São Miguel. One of the peculiarities of the city is that there are virtually no taxis; I estimated that the waterfront was within walking distance from my hotel and started off downhill, hoping the scale of the map did not delude me. After a surprisingly easy introductory walk through the bustling city, I arrived at the waterfront of the Marginal that is the road following the bay sooner than I had expected, and to my delight, the unmistakeable contours of the Fortress of São Miguel appeared right on top of a hill to my left, dominating Luanda Bay.
One of the corners of the star-shaped Fortress of São Miguel

Baixa Luanda
Traditionally the old city of Luanda, Baixa Luanda is now rapidly developing into a modern part of the fast growing capital of Angola; concrete skyscrapers mirror old colonial buildings in their shiny walls.
Luanda, one of the largest cities in Africa, is divided into several districts, of which Baixa Luanda is considered to be the old city. After visiting the officially closed Fortaleza de São Miguel, I walked down into the western side of Baixa Luanda, and continued exploring the old city from there. While I had somehow expected alleys with cobble stone streets lined with attractive colonial buildings, in reality I walked in bustling streets, with a background - and sometimes foreground - rhythmic noise of construction works accompanying me along the way. I saw tall buildings, heavily damaged and dilapidating, empty spaces with yellow cranes, ready to add yet another modern shiny tower, to the skyline of Luanda, but also one or two-story older buildings, that looked tiny compared to the new towers surrounding them.
The coastline under reconstruction at the Marginal with part of the skyline of Luanda

Alto das Cruzes cemetery
In the middle of the city, yet relatively calm, the Cemitério de Alto das Cruzes is a peaceful last resting place for many, and offers an insight into the history of the city of the last 150 years.
Walking through the city, heading north-east, took me through busy neighbourhoods and crossing squares until I reached the walls surrounding the destination of the afternoon: the Cemitério de Alto das Cruzes. A cemetery was established here already in the late 17th century, and it is nowadays only a resting place for notable people. I walked along the wall until I reached the main entrance gate which was added in 1895; even though the area has been used for burials for several centuries now, the oldest grave here dates from the mid 19th century, more often than not for persons born in Portugal. Opposite the cemetery, I saw a row of flower stalls, but not one customer buying flowers. Upon entering, I greeted a group of men chatting at the entrance; and, as expected, a guide was appointed, but I was also told to leave my bag behind.
One of the oldest tombstones at the Cemitério de Alto das Cruzes

Museum of Slavery
Small but not less touching, the National Museum of Slavery in a chapel opposite Mussulo island just outside Luanda tells a story that changed the world in several ways.
Just before I was to drive out of Luanda in a rental car with driver (to brave the traffic in the city and to be sure not to get lost in the sometimes chaotic flow of cars where there are not many street signs), I found out that the Museum of Slavery is closed during the week. It was a Friday, so I decided to postpone my visit until the next morning; the driver even showed up early, and we drove through the empty streets of Luanda, when the driver stopped at the Fortaleza de São Miguel; for some reason, he assumed this was the place I was heading. I had visited a few days before; moreover, the fortress is closed for reconstruction works, so I repeated my destination: the Slave Museum at Morro da Cruz. Now, the face of my Angolan driver lightens up: he knows where to go, and off we go.
Stairs leading up to the Museum of Slavery

Miradouro da Lua
Easily reached, the Miradouro da Lua offers a view of a spectacular landscape that is rugged and red, running from the escarpment to the Atlantic Ocean in the distance.
It proved more difficult than I had thought to arrange a car with a driver in Luanda, and when we were finally on the way from the hotel, the afternoon traffic jams were already being formed. It took us quite some time to leave the city, and I was closely watching the sky on my right to see if the thick cloud cover showed signs of opening up later on. When we finally were out of the city, there were indeed some patches of blue sky, and I hoped we would have some nice sunlight at our destination, the Miradouro da Lua, south of the Angolan capital Luanda. When I saw pictures of the landscape at this viewpoint, and realized it was an easy trip from the city, I had my mind set on seeing it for myself, and calculated it would best be seen before sunset.
Rugged cliff landscape seen from Miradouro da Lua

Pictures from Benin

Cotonou
With a mix of voodoo and marxism that could well be unique, Benin has some surprises for the visitor. Close to the capital Cotonou, you can find a village on stilts vaguely reminding the visitor of Venice.
In a period in my life in which I visited Eastern Europe in its pre-1989 period, it was very interesting to see Benin. After all, at that time Benin was also a socialist country, adopting ideologies from the East. The interesting part for me was to see how an African country would incorporate these strange ideas - as it is sometimes interesting to see how for instance western beliefs are imported into these countries.
Marxist monument in Cotonou

Ganvié
Once a haven of safety for persecution, now a photogenic oddity, Ganvié is a village solely consisting of houses on stilts, often nicknamed Venice of Africa.
Once upon a time, hundreds of years ago, the Tofinu people were desperate to avoid slave raids of the Fon and Dahomey kingdoms in the heartland of Benin. They did not want to end up on one of those infamous ships sending millions of Africans to faraway plantations across the Atlantic: they wanted to live in freedom. They decided that the best way to be safe from the raids would be to isolate themselves: they took to Lake Nokoué, and built themselves a new settlement inside the lake. But the bold move was not only driven by a feeling of survival, it was also rooted in religious beliefs. The Fon people believed that a terrible demon inhabited the waters, thus creating a taboo for them to attack the Tofinu people in their houses on stilts.
Brightly painted houses on stilts in the Venice of Africa Ganvié

Ouidah Temple of Pythons
A unique place in Benin, the Temple of Pythons is home to dozens of royal pythons, a strong Vodun symbol of peace, prosperity and wisdom revered throughout the country.
After a short drive from Cotonou, we arrive in the western town of Ouidah, or Whydah: not far from the Atlantic coast. Before we delve into the slave history that is closely linked to Ouidah, we decide to pay a visit to the Temple of Pythons. A guide welcomes us at the entrance, and starts explaining the history of this sacred place. In the early 18th century, the powerful king of Dahomey attacked the smaller kingdom of Ouidah, and king Kpassè fled into the nearby forest. The attacking troops would have found him, if it were not for the fact that many pythons crawled out of it and swarmed the surrounding area. This is how the king and the town were saved. Three huts were built in the forest, commemorating the pythons to this very day.
Wooden sculpture with pythons curled up around it inside the Temple of Pythons

Ouidah slave traces
The history of Ouidah is closely related to centuries of slave trade, and the town has plenty of reminders of this dark period in African history.
A visit to Benin is not complete without a visit to Ouidah. This town rose to economic prosperity during the slave trade, and went into decline after that trade finally stopped in the 19th century. Nowadays, it is being developed into a memorial for that dark period in African history. After exploring the Temple of Pythons, the Sacred Forest with its Vodun statues and significance, and walking around town just to get a feel of this relaxed place, we are on our way to the former Slave Market. Our local guide tells us how slaves were taken here, sold here, and how they started their long march towards the Point of No Return where the slaves would board ships that would take them to the Americas.
Slave memorial at the Door of No Return

Vodun dance
Colourful, dynamic, passionate and frightening at the same time: watching a Vodun dance is an exhilarating and enigmatic experience that is part of Benin.
After having visited the Temple of Pythons and the basilica just opposite, and the Sacred Forest of Ouidah where we learned more about the enigmatic Vodun religion, we walk the streets of town in the late afternoon. We are in search of food when we hear loud music in the distance. The face of our guide lights up, and he excitedly tells us that we need to postpone dinner and follow him. When we turn a corner, we see why. People are sitting across the street on seats, people are standing, and all have their eyes fixed on the small square behind them. The closer we get, the louder the music.
Vodun performer running over the square chasing people

Palais Roi Guezo
Of the various royal palaces of Ahomey, the one of King Ghezo is among the best preserved, giving an insight into the former brilliance of the rulers of the mighty Kingdom of Dahomey.
After having seen the south of Benin, we are on our way north. The inevitable place to visit is Abomey, the former capital of the historic Kingdom of Dahomey. Scattered all over Abomey and beyond are palaces of the kings that ruled here. We visit several of them, and on one afternoon, arrive at the Palace of Ghezo on the back of a motorbike. We park under a big tree, and enter through the gate, flanked by an adobe tower. On the wall, we see several animals like a bull, a fish on a hook, and a sun and a moon. We roam the complex, with several courtyards, meeting rooms and living rooms.
Tower and gate of the Palace of Roi Guezo

Chameleon Temple
Probably one of the most extraordinary temples in the world, the Chameleon Temple is testimony of the vitality of the Vodun religion of Benin.
After a day of exploring Abomey and surroundings, where we saw traces of the slave trade, royal palaces, colonial fortresses, strolled over the fetish market, and had a ceremony with a vodun priest, we are on our way to the Chameleon Temple in Zounkpa, a little village outside the former capital of the Dahomey capital. We drive over dirt roads, until we stop at a small square with trees and low buildings. Before our eyes, we see something we have never seen before. A big temple in the shape of a chameleon, with its mouth wide open, and two bulging eyes on either side, as if something scared it when it was constructed. The sun is about to sink behind the trees, so we hurry to have a look on all sides.
Frontal view of the Chameleon temple, with open mouth and bulging eyes

Tata Somba Houses
A combination of elegance and practicality, the traditional adobe Tata houses are a fascinating sight in the northern part of Benin, a tradition that is still very much alive.
After the busride from Bohicon to Natitingou, we feel we have arrived in a very different part of Benin. It is warmer and drier, and a wind blows through the streets. It is also quiet, and there are few options for transportation. We are lucky to find two motorbike riders, and quickly agree on a price to take us to Koussoucoingou, a village towards the west, towards the border with Togo. When we leave the town of Natitingou behind, I see a very dark, almost black sky behind us. I realize that we are driving against the wind, and calculate that the rain will not catch up with us before we arrive at our destination. Indeed, when we pull up at a hotel in the shape of a Tata house, it is still dry, although our guys will definitely get wet on their way back home.
Adobe Tata house in Koussoucoingou

Pictures from Botswana

Okavango mokoro safari
Exploring the Okavango by mokoro means that you are literally pushed through the landscape by a poler, which allows you a close-up experience of this enormous delta nature paradise.
A small motor boat takes us from Maun up the Thamalakane river in the morning - our peek into the Okavango delta is about to begin. There are hundreds of waterlilies on the water, their white flowers open and reflected in the still water of the river. The skipper is in a good mood, and stops at every possible sight. There are many reasons to stop on the river, the many birds being one of them. We see kingfishers, fish eagles, herons, and many more birds in the trees and the sky above us. On the banks of the river, we spot cows and donkeys; not the wildlife we had expected to see. When we come to the Mokoro Station, a village where the polers of the mokoros live, someone points out a fence, partly on land and partly on water: it marks the divide between domesticated animals and the wild ones which are just around the corner. Before we start our exploration of the Okavango, we are introduced to the other staff who will be travelling with us - 6 in total.
Okavango delta landscape with water, grass, and trees

Nxai Pan safari
On this ancient lakebed, a wide variety of wildlife can be seen, and driving around the area brings large herds of zebra, giraffe, ostrich, with regular sightings of elephants, and if you are lucky, big cats as well.
The drive east of Maun is easy enough on a good, straight road almost void of traffic. Our travel planner sends us on a track which quickly turns worse, and after struggling forward, we decide to return to the main road, and find the main gate of Nxai Pan National Park right besides the road. The track to the second gate is sandy. We take a track to the right when we are halfway, and after seeing zebra, giraffe and gemsbok, we arrive at the borders of Kudiakam Pan. We drive through the shallow water and park next to enormous baobabs, more than 1000 years old: the Baines' Baobabs. When I switch off the engine, we are surrounded by silence. Thomas Baines, once part of the Livingstone expedition, painted these baobabs in the late 19th century, and the impressive trees are almost identical more than a century and a half later. On our way back, we see two elephants in the distance, spraying earth over their bodies. Back on the sandy road north, we get stuck in the sand, deflate the tyre pressure, use the metal racks, and get out quite easily before an enormous elephant turns up on the road just metres away. We observe, go in reverse, and kill the engine which eventually calms the elephant. When we reach our camping spot, we have to unfold the tent on the roof of the car in darkness.
Kudiakam Pan covered by water

Savuti safari
The flat plains with hills scattered around make for a fine landscape, and it does not even take much luck to see a wide variety of wildlife in the marshy Savuti part of Chobe National Park.
The drive up from Maun is quite easy, apart from a stretch where we have to drive around a flooded area where another car shows us the way. There are several points on the way where we see elephants, and we are looking forward to exploring Savuti. After registering at Mababe gate, where we are told not to take the Marsh road but follow the Sandridge road instead, we quickly get our first taste of Savuti. On our left, there are trees and bushes, while on the right is a vast open plain that stretches to the horizon: the Mababe Depression. Savuti once was an inland lake, but shifting tectonic movements temporarily cut off the inflow of water to the marshes. This, of course, has an immediate effect on both animals and trees. In fact, we see a lot of dead trees, with their bare branches into the sky, in the plains. The open views also mean that animals are easily spotted. Indeed, we see the first herds of elephants, giraffes and different kinds of antelopes appear instantly as we drive north. As the sun is sinking towards the horizon, we light is only getting better.
Resting lion in the shade in Savuti

Chobe riverfront safari
The riverfront of Chobe offers a dizzying array and abundance of wildlife, with close encounters of big animals guaranteed - all in the setting of a river in which you can find yet more animals and birds.
The official at Ngoma Gate tells us we are late, even though we still have a couple of hours before sunset and less than 25km to drive. Very soon after embarking on our first game drive, we discover that the going is very slow. We literally stop every other minute to have a look at yet more game. The amount of animals we encounter is truly amazing. Giraffe, with oxpeckers on their slender necks, kudus, waterbucks, and yet more elephants, with big troops of baboons and jackal, fish eagles, storks, and a multitude of other birds thrown in as well. The warm light makes them all look even better. The landscape: hills on or right, with bushes, baobabs and other trees, and on our left: the Chobe river, with Namibia on the other side. I am careful to avoid any of the sudden ditches while having my eyes on the surroundings at the same time. When we finally arrive at our campsite, the sun is almost at the horizon. The lady of the reception warns us for wildlife on the campgrounds, and informs us that at times, the office is not staffed when they feel threatened. Indeed, on the way to our campsite, we encounter yet another group of elephants. When the moon sets as well, we are left on an empty campgrounds, with a brilliant star-filled sky above us, and the sounds of lion very close by to accompany us into a thrilling sleep.
Drinking on the banks of Chobe river: a herd of elephants

Pictures from Burkina Faso

Tiébélé painted houses
The houses of the royal family at Tiébélé certainly are very attratively painted in both traditional and modern styles, full of symbolism.
As soon as I had read about the painted houses of the Gourunsi people, and had seen one picture of them, I wanted to go there to see it for myself. On an early Friday morning, mere hours after I had arrived in the country, I caught a bus to the town of Pô, towards the border with Ghana. A Canadian girl on the bus decided to join me, even though she was on the way to Ghana, and quite soon after our arrival in Pô, we arranged a car with a driver, bought water and mangoes, and were off to Tiébélé, some 30 kilometres east of Pô. It was my first day in Burkina Faso, and my eyes were glued to the countryside and the villages we were passing through. I saw rondavels, square houses, and many were grouped and contained by a wall, with a little courtyard in the middle. We saw a few houses with some quite primitive painting on it, and even though I had seen that one picture, I only had a vague idea about what we were going to see. The road turned out to be quite good, and in a little over half an hour, we entered Tiébélé - a town much larger than I had expected. We passed a market, and stopped somewhere to pick up a guide, who turned out to be a member of the royal family ruling Tiébélé.
Painted house with intricately decorated walls in Tiébélé

Sindou Peaks
The landscape found around the village of Sindou has spectacular peaks of various sizes and shapes, and certainly deserves several visits at different times of the day to truly appreciate its rugged beauty.
It had seemed simple: take the bus from Ouagadougou to Banfora, and then try to get to Sindou, in the southwestern part of Burkina Faso. We were well on our way on the smooth roads and in a fast bus, over halfway to Bobo Dioulasso, when the driver overtook a motor-tricycle where he was not supposed to, made an abrupt movement to the right, and I heard a loud bang against the bus. I had seen a few foreigners on the bus, but we had not been in touch; now, we crouched over the two bodies that lied a few metres from the road, motionless. Blood came out through large holes in their heads. We did whatever we could; administered first aid, talked to the guys, and asked for asssitance. Inevitably, it took the ambulance way too long to arrive; when it did, it turned out to be a mere 4WD with a removable bunk in the back. The men were off, we had another hour delay in the next town where the substitute driver paid a visit to the hospital (the driver who had caused the accident, had disappeared). In Bobo Dioulasso, another bus was waiting for us; by the time we arrived in Banfora, the last vehicle towards Sindou had already left. Fortunately, I found someone willing to take me on his motorbike, even though the images of the two guys with their gaping wounds was still vividly on my mind. Helmets are rarely used in Burkina Faso, even though there are motorbikes everywhere. The road was not tarred, but under construction. Trucks were driving up and down the road, trailed by a cloud of dust. At times, I just closed my eyes, but then realized I should try to look ahead, in case the driver would also have his eyes full of dust. The landscape was a fresh green: rice fields, trees, and hills around us. After some 80 minutes, a chain of jagged peaks appeared on our right. At first, I thought it was a peculiar landscape, but after a little while, I realized I was actually looking at what I had come to see: the Sindou Peaks. We were just in time to see the setting sun colour the rocks a warm orange. I took a cabin in the local campement; not ventilated.
Rock formation at Sindou with trail through the fields

Karfiguela waterfalls
Within cycling distance of Banfora, the Karfiguela falls have various pools, tall and small falls, views over the plains surrounding them - and a lovely lane of mango trees leading up the its footstep.
Burkina Faso has been a country of cycling for a long time, although modernity has reached the country and more and more people are using mopeds. Directly upon arrival in Banfora, I asked for a bike - I wanted to do it the good old, pedal-power, way. The bike did not look too bad, even though the saddle was completely loose, the gear was stuck in the low position, and only one brake was working. When I cycled away, I felt extremely happy. For the first time in more than a month, I myself was in charge of transportation. I did not have to wait for a bus that never left, I did not have to squeeze into a heavily overloaded car, I did not have to take care not to put my feet on live chicken, I did not have to be scared for a speeding driver drinking beer - I was in charge of my own speed. Moreover, there was hardly any traffic, and the unsealed road was in a good condition. I cycled past sugar cane fields, and when I reached a lane lined by huge mango trees, I knew I had arrived - it had only taken me half an hour. I paid the entrance fee, and a little further on, parked the bike which did not have a lock.
Looking at one of the waterfalls of Karfiguela

Thomas Sankara Tomb
Once the promising young leader of Burkina Faso, Sankara got killed by his best friend, and now lies in decaying tomb with his comrades, next to a garbage dump.
While on our way to the cemetery of Danoen, in the eastern outskirts of Ouagadougou, the taxi driver was negotiating bad, bumpy roads, and we passed a garbage dump. I knew the roads would be bad, and wondered what the last resting place of Thomas Sankara would look like. In the 1980s, he had risen to power in what was then Upper Volta in a military coup; he was president by the age of 33. He brought drastic change to the country, which he renamed to Burkina Faso, or the Land of the Upright Men, or the Men of Integrity. He lived a simple life as a president, unlike many of his colleague-heads of state, vaccinated the youth against diseases like yellow fever, nationalized the natural wealth resources of the country, made it self-sufficient, and rejected foreign aid, among many things.
The simple grave of the former president of Burkina Faso, Thomas Sankara

Domes of Fabedougou
Nature has sculpted rock formations with soft and sharp shapes, with alleys through which you can walk in your exploration of this peculiar landscape.
When I was on my way down from the Karfiguela falls, there was a fork in the trails: one going straight. I wondered if that would lead me right to the Domes of Fabedougou, but since there were no signs, and no one to ask to, and since there were many trails in various directions, I decided to just hike down and ask. Indeed, the trail straight would have led me to the domes, but I was advised to cycle to the entrance. So, I was on my way again, skirting the sugar cane fields, and even though I did not see a sign or a person to ask to, even when there was a crossroads, I could see a small mountain range on my left, so that was where I steered my bike.
Road running right next to the domes of Fabedougou

Tengrela Lake
A small lake in the vicinity of Banfora, Tengrela is home to hippos, who share its waters with water lilies and fishermen, surrounded by mango trees and hills and small villages.
After cycling to Karfiguela falls and the domes of Fabedougou the day before, I wanted to cycle more, and decided to leave early morning and pedal to Tengrela Lake. I had done this road before, on the back of a motorbike, on my way to Sindou; now, I had to provide for my own power. The temperature turned out to be very pleasant, and I cycled out of Banfora with ease, even on the uphill stretches. I had been advised to also visit a huge baobab tree, which could be found 18k west of Banfora, but I was not sure about it; I also wanted to get to Bobo in the early afternoon. I decided to visit the lake first, and I reached it faster than I thought. A guy got out of his hammock, and turned out to be the one to paddle me across the lake.
Waterlily reflected in the tranquil waters of Tengrela Lake

Dioulassoba Mosque
A jewel of a mosque, the rustic Grand Mosque of Bobo Dioulasso seems to emit a warm glow when the day breaks, which slowly comes to an end under the call to prayer of the imam when the sun sets.
The Grande Mosquée of Bobo-Dioulasso had been firmly on my mind once I decided to visit Burkina Faso. I had only a vague idea of what it would look like, as I never had seen a picture of it, and I managed to reach the second largest city of the country without an idea what I was about to see, until I saw a calendar at the reception of the hotel. I quickly looked away. I tested my patience; I arrived in the heat of the day, and wanted to postpone my visit until better light would be there; I had read that seeing the sun set on the mosque would be the best time. I even walked a few blocks extra, to approach the mosque from the other side, and sure enough, when I was walking south on a lively street, I saw a white minaret sticking out above the houses. I had expected the mosque to be surrounded by walls, but instead, I walked straight into it from the street. A small courtyard on my right where some kids were playing, women selling mangoes on the other side of the street, and several men dressed in the typical muslim robes were sitting under the trees.
The famous landmark of Bobo-Dioulasso: the adobe mosque of Dioulassoba

Pictures from Burundi

Saga Beach
Close to the capital city of Bujumbura, you can find a sandy beach on the shores of Lake Tanganyika where you can relax, go for a swim, or just marvel at the views of the lake with the surrounding high mountains on both sides.
It was a hot afternoon in Bujumbura, and I felt like exploring Saga beach. It proved a little more difficult than I imagined to find a moto-taxi; I met two girls who walked with me, but the driver they asked, wanted too much money, so I ended up taking the same mini-bus they were taking themselves, as they turned out to be going in the same direction. We reached Saga within ten minutes, and from the road, I reached the beach in a matter of minutes. To my surprise, it was totally empty, except for a bar on stilts just off the beach where a handful of people were having a drink. Saga beach is mostly used for weekends, ideally located at just a few kilometres from the city. I walked towards the west, towards the DR of Congo. The sun was shining mercilessly, and the clear weather allowed me to admire the high mountains on both sides of Lake Tanganyika. It is a narrow and long lake: the horizon to the south was just water. This is one of the deepest lakes in the world.
The mountains of Burundi looming over Lake Tanganyika with Saga beach in the foreground

Source du Nil
The green highlands of Burundi harbour what is claimed to be the southernmost source of the river Nile, pure water starting on its long journey north; also marked by a special pyramid commemorating those who searched for the source in vain.
We had been driving for a couple of hours from Bujumbura after an early departure that beautiful morning, through landscapes of rolling, green hills, and in a pleasant temperature - much better than the one in Bujumbura. We were on our way to the source of the Nile, but I was not even thinking much about it - I was just enjoying the landscape of Burundi. This must be a great country to hike in, I thought; unfortunately, I did not have the time for it. The road was surprisingly good, but we never had more than a hundred metres without curves (and probably even much less), so it still took us more than two hours to reach the source of the Nile.
The first metres of the Nile on its long journey to the Mediterranean

Burundi cyclists
They are masters of their bikes, they are devils when going down the many mountains of Burundi, and they are not afraid to work up a sweat pushing their heavy loads uphill: the cyclists of Burundi.
While on the bus from Rwanda to Bujumbura, I had seen them: cyclists with enormous loads, sailing down the mountains on their decorated bikes, often not able to see what was behind the next curve. They would have charcoal, bananas, or other goods, in large quantities (they must often have flat tires), and with a total disregard of the risks, plunge their bikes downhill, steering through the curves, around trucks, cattle, pedestrians, holes in the road. They seemed crazy to do so - and probably, they are; when I saw one bike up close, it did not even have breaks on the front wheel. Nevertheless, they fascinated me, especially when I saw how they worked up a serious sweat pushing their heavily loaded bikes up the countless hills and mountains of Burundi. Oftentimes, you can find groups of men pushing their bikes up in a group effort.
Cycling a bananabike

Chutes de la Karera
In all, there are four waterfalls at the end of a remote valley in Burundi, where cool water tumbles down over rocks through a landscape of lush, green vegetation.
After leaving the main road, our speed quickly diminished, as the driver had to seek the best path over the rutted unsealed track. The rainy season had done damage, but at the same time, being tossed around in the car also made it feel like we were getting somewhere remote. We passed through woods, valleys, and small villages, and it was only when we stopped to take in the views, that the guide/driver discovered that one of our tires was flat. In distance, we did not have to go far, but we just had to go slow, so slow, in fact, that small boys could easily run with the car whenever we were going uphill. The surprise was that we drove straight to the largest waterfall. A wall of water was coming down from the forest above, laying a veil of fine water over sharp rocks on which it splashed and sprayed.
The most impressive waterfall of the Chutes de la Karera

Pictures from Cabo Verde

Ponta do Sol to Chã de Igreja
The only hike along the rugged coastline of northeastern Santo Antão, walking west from Punta do Sol brings you past small villages, black sand beaches, terraces, all through the mist of the sea and with the constant sound of waves.
We had just arrived on Santo Antão, we ready to explore the countryside, and decided to go for a relaxed start by walking west from Punta do Sal, which would be our base for four days. Right from the town, a stony track leads west and up: there is no way you can get lost on this hike. Soon after leaving the last houses and pigsties behind us, we found ourselves quite high above the waves below us, and had steep, barren, rocky mountains dropping straight into the Atlantic right before us. We watched an old male goat trying to get onto a small female one, which proved out of reach because of the length of the rope tied to his horns, before we reached a bend leading a little inland.
The rugged coastline of northeastern Santo Antão is best appreciated on a hike on its beautiful stony paths

Coculi to Rabo Curto hike
The steep climbing and descending is well worth it considering the spectacular views of Chã de Pedra and Ribeira de Torre, while skirting the ancient crater of Cova and even the island of São Vicente.
On a quiet Sunday morning, I am lucky to find an aluguer, local minibus, to Ribeira Grande from Punta do Sol with only one woman as the other passenger. Waiting for another aluguer towards Coculi, I chat with some locals who are going the same way. After a while, they start running after an empty aluguer which does not have the red colour the ones going to Coculi are supposed to have, and I decide to follow them. When we arrive in Coculi, they jump out, thank the driver, and tell me I don't have to pay because the driver just had to go home. I feel lucky, and start hiking up the valley, and turn left into Chã de Pedra after talking to a local who, after asking for a confirmation of the right way, does not stop talking about all the things I can see further up the valley. Behind me, clouds hover around the peaks of the jagged mountains, and I wonder what the weather will do today. You never know, in the mountains.
View over the clouds floating above Ribeira de Torre

Mindelo
Founded in the late 18th century, Mindelo has a history of prosperity and decline, is considered the cultural capital of the country, and located on a bay - sufficient reasons to visit.
Our first visit to Mindelo was the shortest possible. Our flight from Praia to São Vicente was delayed, and when we finally got our luggage, there were only 40 minutes left before the boat to Santo Antao would leave. We took a taxi with two German women, the driver dropped us at the pier, we bought our tickets, and we were on the boat. The only thing we had seen in Mindelo was the Torre de Belém, a touristy copy of the original tower in Lisbon. We knew we would be back - we would first concentrate on outdoor life on the northernmost island of Cape Verde. When our ferry entered the port of Mindelo one day later, the sun was still shining, we found a room in what supposedly is the oldest hotel of the country, and took to the streets.
Building on the waterfront of Mindelo in the afternoon sun

Paul to Peneda via Cova
After hiking up the spectacular scenery of Ribeira do Paúl and seeing the Cova area, the hike was complete after going down Ribeira da Peneda in the fog and arriving on the coast.
It is a sunny morning when we get an aluguer - or minivan - directly to Paúl, and another one up to the first village. The description in the guide is not clear, and we miss the turnoff for the hike up the Ribeira, but once we are on our way, the going is steep, and we sweat it out. We soon pass picturesque houses, some of which turn out to be attractive pensions, all of them with gorgeous views into the valley. Once we are a little higher, we find a track, the going gets easier, and the views ahead are spectacular. The valley floor is green, there are flowers, and ahead, the rock formations have jagged peaks. Even though we have now seen the weird volcanic formations for a couple of days, seeing them still makes us stop, marvel, and wonder how on earth the landscape was shaped as it is now.
Ribeira do Paúl in the morning

Tarrafal
The western coast of Santo Antão is dry and spectacular, and offer the opportunity of hikes, of swimming, of walking around a village, but is also the perfect place for complete relaxation and beautiful sunsets.
After hiking the ribeiras of the east of Santo Antão for a couple of days, enjoying the spectacular volcanic landscapes, our legs deserve some rest, and we decide to head west. We take a private aluguer from Ponta do Sol to Porto Novo along the amazing old road, and book a place on a pick-up truck to Tarrafal. The road is famous for being bad, and regular aluguers do not make it to Tarrafal. When we sit down in the back, it looks perfect: being outside in the sun, with full view of our surroundings. But of course, by the time we leave town, 5 more passengers have joined us, and together with the many bags and cargo in the truck, we are struggling to find a way to sit. After a small detour to deliver some car parts, we are on our way up. I wonder how high we will go. I also wonder how to stay in the truck. With a young mother next to me, I have decided to stand, also to enjoy the views, but I can only hold on to the bags, which turn out not to be tied too well to the vehicle, and it feels like I am slowly falling backward. When we reach the highest point, we are much higher than I ever anticipated: it is chilly, and to my surprise, the Nigerian trader in our truck stays behind, with as many bags as he can carry. I seriously wonder how he is ever going to sell his stuff here, in the middle of nowhere.
The mountains above Tarrafal, with the Topo da Coroa in the background

Pictures from Cameroon

Bandjoun chefferie
Travel south of bustling and sprawling Bafoussam, and you arrive in Bandjoun, which has an interesting chefferie with a Case and small museum.
We were on our way west again, and had wanted to visit the chefferie of Bandjoun before heading out for the Ring Road, but since transportation had been blocked because of the elections a few days before, we had postponed our visit. A shared taxi took us for the 15km drive to Bandjoun, and dropped us off right at the entrance of the chefferie. A goat with curly horns was grazing in front of a statue of a sultan, and we walked through the main gate. From here, a lane runs down; on both sides, we saw hut-like structures with traditional grass roofs. Behind them, more modern houses with shiny iron roofs. At the far side, a huge building with grass roof and tens of columns. There was no one around, and we were directed to a building where we found a woman breastfeeding a child. It turned out she was the woman in charge, accepted payment, left the baby behind, locked the door, and took us to the small museum next to a modern building.
The Case at the end of a house-lined lane

Grassfields Ring Road
Take at least a few days to do this circuit in North-West Cameroon, seeing crater lakes, endlessly rolling green hills, waterfalls, sleepy towns, and much more.
It had been firmly on our list of things we wanted to do in Cameroon, but we had not anticipated doing it with a new-found local friend: the Ring Road in the Grassfields region in North-West Cameroon. While we were on our way back from Foumban to Bafoussam, our smart friend realized that there would be elections the next day, and it turned out that transportation would be suspended as a consequence. Instead of a relaxing evening, we therefore decided to get our things, and to take yet another motorbike ride to the agence taking care of transportation to Bamenda, the gateway to the Ring Road. We first had a wok-like dinner at one of the many stalls nearby, and then, a long wait followed. It was dark now, and there were some particularly shady characters hanging around the area. It took quite a while before the minivan finally filled up, and we were on our way to Bamenda. The drive itself was not even too bad, and we found a place to sleep before midnight. The next morning, we woke up to a sunny day, and directly took a taxi to the agence for Wum. This was the start of the Ring Road, and even our friend was excited, as it was his first time, too. The streets were quiet, and indeed, at the station, there were not too many passengers. We were able to have breakfast before the goods on top of the Vatican van had been secured, and we left, on the way to new adventures. The passengers turned out to be a happy bunch of Cameroonians, and the ride was a nice one, even though we were crammed in like is the norm in these parts of the world. The driver was even kind enough to make a short stop at the Metchum Falls, impressive falls, where water forces its way through a narrow rocky gorge. It had started to rain now, and it was still not dry when we arrived in Wum. We found ourselves a place for the night, in a room with comical plumbing problems, and when the rains had cleared, we arranged for bikes to take us to nearby Lake Wum.
Dark sky and rain over the mountains near Nkambe

Sultan Palace
A visit to the Sultan Palace of Foumban might well turn out to be one of the highlights of your visit to Cameroon; especially because of its highly interesting museum.
We had arrived in Bafoussam late at night from Yaoundé, and after a local breakfast at one of the stalls of the bus station, took a ride on a motorbike to the agence which had buses to Foumban. It filled up quite quickly, and within an hour and a half, we pulled in at the small bus station outside Foumban. Another motorbike ride took us directly to the entrance of the Sultan's Palace we had come to see. A guy approached us, giving us the impression we were obliged to take him as a guide, and after paying our entrance fee, we walked towards the palace. We soon found out that the guide had a serious stuttering problem, but also, that our Cameroonian friend knew quite more than the guy about what we were seeing. We learned about the Bamoun dynasty, made easier because all the sultans are depicted on a wall at the entrance - in name, and in drawing. Not only that: also the German and French rulers are all represented. Just around the corner, a mural shows the history of the Bamoun dynasty.
The small square in front of the Sultan Palace with statue of Sultan on horseback in the foreground

Yaoundé basilica
A modern basilica in the southern suburbs of Yaoundé, constructed with materials from Cameroon, has stained glass windows, carved doors, in an originally shaped temple.
After the hike up Mount Eloundem just before, our Cameroonian friend proposed to see the basilica we had passed that morning, so we took a shared taxi and got off at the entrance. A remarkable building: it looks small from the outside, with what seems to be a flat roof and a triangular tower on top. We walked along the outside of the entrance, to see the works of art on its walls, depicting Biblical scenes. The Jubilee door was firmly closed behind a protective metal door, but we could still see the decorative scenes carved on its face.
The entrance of the modern basilica

Mount Eloundem
Just a busride from the city centre of Yaoundé, Mount Eloundem brings you to nature, and sweeping views of the surrounding area from the top.
Sometimes, the unexpected can turn out to be special, and this certainly goes for our excursion to Mount Eloundem. On our first day in the Cameroonian capital, we had applied for a visa to neighbouring Gabon, and had found the museum we had wanted to visit, closed. A friendly guy in the street approached us, walked us to the Municipal Lake, and proposed to go to Mount Eloundem the next day, instead of another, harder to reach destination. We agreed to meet the next morning, found our new friend with a big smile on his face, and after waiting a while, boarded a bus to the outskirts of Yaoundé. Part of the fun of traveling in Africa is that you can often see where the vehicles have lived their first life; like quite a few buses in the city, this one was from our home country - the original destination was still displayed on the front of the bus. We got off at the end, took a short ride on a motorbike, and started hiking from there. At once, we had left the city behind, we crossed a rickety wooden bridge for pedestrians across a stream of water, and walked through plantations until we reached a couple of houses. Ahead of us, we could see the summit of Mount Eloundem towering above the thick vegetation.
Looking up from the platform, with the summit of Mount Eloundem

Municipal Lake
On the western side of town, the municipal lake of Yaoundé is lined with buildings on one side, while the other is bordering trees. Good views around, and a possibility to meander through different neighbourhoods.
We had dropped our passports with a visa application just before, and after we found out the museum we had wanted to visit was under repair, we decided to walk to nearby Municipal Lake instead. On one side, buildings line the lake, while on the other, vegetation reaches right to the waterline. We walked clockwise around the lake, from the southernmost point - on a tree-lined street. After a while, we saw a waterlily-covered pond on our left. A little further up the lake, we passed several buildings, and got a view of the northern part of the lake, almost dry. Across the lake, we saw a small market, and heard rhythmic music traveling over the water surface.
View of the Municipal lake from the southern side

Cameroonian people
A rich diversity of people live in Cameroon, offering the visitor a plethora of faces, dresses, and strange languages to see and hear. Open yourself, and you will be rewarded!
After clearing immigration and customs at Douala Airport, the curiosity of the country took over. What kind of people are they, the Cameroonians? Will we be able to connect during our stay here? I was moreover curious how they would compare to the Africans I had met in other countries, and memories came back of friends in the region. I had read that the country has some 280 different ethnic groups, and was looking forward to getting to know the people. Our first introduction was a visit to the visitor centre at the airport. Even though a plane had just landed, we found the office closed, while only 5 minutes later, the three ladies staffing it came back. They were friendly, but only of limited use. The driver who took us to the city turned out to be a modest, soft and very friendly guy, as were the people of the restaurant we had our first ndole, the typical Douala dish with bitter vegetables. The tone was set: with almost every new encounter, our positive feel was confirmed. Moreover, the variety of the inhabitants of the country was clearly visible in the streets, especially in Douala and Yaoundé, the two main cities of Cameroon. Tall, short, pitch dark to light brown, black-eyed to light green, broad shouldered to delicate build: just walk the streets of the cities and you can find a mix of all of these - and then some. Cameroon is called an ethnic melting pot for a reason.
Boy with shoe stall at Nkombe market

Limbe and Batoke beaches
Right at the foot of Mount Cameroon, the beaches in the Limbé region are brown to black, contrasting nicely with the brilliant green of the tropical vegetation - on its shores, wooden pirogues arrive with fish.
After roughing it on the Ring Road in Northwestern Cameroon, we felt the need to relax a little bit. Instead of rushing our way through Kribi on the way south to Gabon, we decided a visit to Limbe would be better. Moreover, we were interested in seeing the volcanic beaches and, hopefully, even a glimpse of Mount Cameroon, which I had wanted to climb, but for which we had no time left. An early arrival in Limbe was out of the question, because our bus took almost three hours before it left, but fortunately we still found a connection directly to Limbe, bypassing Douala. The next morning, it was a true change of scenery: we had a direct view of the sea, saw some islands in the distance, and when we stepped outside, could also see cloud-covered Mount Cameroon. At the same time, it was noticeably warmer and more humid - the climate in the Ring Road region had been very pleasant.
Batoke beach in the afternoon

Bertoua to Libongo
The going is slow, the roads are bad, and you travel on cramped dusty buses, but the route through the rainforest to the far south west of Cameroon is one big adventure you will not easily forget.
When planning to visit the far southwest of the Central African Republic, I learned that the easiest way there would be to travel though Cameroon. Being on my own, renting a plane or even a car turned out costly, so I decided to take the long way: traveling overland from Yaoundé by public transport. The first part to Bertoua is easy enough: there are plenty of buses, and the roads are good, so I cover the 380 km in about six hours. I directly buy a ticket for the bus to Yokadouma the next day, after the ticket seller has finished praying at the small mosque provided within the bus company compound. I am back at the agency at 6 the next morning, and see people paying money for having their luggage loaded on the roof of the old, yellow Renault Savem van. To my surprise, my bag is taken for free; it later turns out that only heavy and/or bulky bags are charged. It also turns out that buying the ticket early carried a big advantage: there are numbers on the tickets, indicating the order of purchase, and they are announced, so that people can pick their seat. Despite some seats already being taken by smart asses trying to defeat the seating system, a brilliant plan, and it works surprisingly well. I take a window seat on the second row, as the first one is directly behind a kind of iron barrier, with less legroom. We are on our way at ten past seven, and continue our way through the rainforest, just like we have done the day before. It takes three hours to reach Batouri, where the driver switches off the engine, and everyone gets off. I walk around to stretch my legs, but don't dare to stray too far, since I have no idea how long the break will last. When, after more than half an hour, mechanics take off all four wheels, it becomes clear that we will not be leaving soon. Once on our way again, the discussions between an older man in the middle and a guy in front of him flares up again, and the entire bus ventilates their meaning. There might not be music on the bus, but there is always some other entertainment. The issue is finally solved by putting the younger guy at the much wanted front seat, next to the driver. There is a very vocal lady, who has been commenting on others even before we boarded the bus in Bertoua: she also adds spice to the ride, and often makes all passengers laugh. She is sitting right in the middle of the bus, and I am convinced that this is exactly where she wants to be. Then, there are the regular checkpoints. Often, showing my passport is sufficient, and I note how they spend much more time studying my visa for other countries, than for the Cameroonian one. Sometimes, they also want to see my vaccination booklet. One some occasions, we all have to get off the bus, which is a pain because the only door of the cabin is at the rear of the van, but at other checkpoints, the officers are happy enough to check our documents through the windows. Later in the afternoon, it starts to rain, and the window right in front of me is missing. The passenger sitting next to it, needs to keep a wooden board against the opening, but when the rain gets really heavy, it blows right behind the board to my seat, and the left hand side of my pants are soaked. But it can be even worse: on the other side of the bus, there are holes in the roof, and the guy sitting under those, stands to avoid the worst, but gets a free shower anyway. When the day gets to an end, and it is clear that we will not reach Yokadouma before nightfall, people get tired. After one more stop during which the driver and his assistant are trying to fix mechanical problems they have been trying to fix the entire day, the vocal lady explodes for reasons I don't understand. She bashes the passenger next to her, and repeatedly yells at him that she will castrate him. At first, the crowd in the bus bursts with laughter, but this apparently only encourages the lady to continue, and in the end, everyone is begging her to stop, which she finally does. I will never know if she really carried out her threat. I find a basic place to stay, walk the streets, find out that the person that could have helped me to get to Libongo the next day has already gone, and am happy that I do not see any bushmeat hanging at stalls in the street, as I had read before arriving. I ask around ways to reach Libongo, and get different advice, ranging from taking the bus, a logging truck, a WWF car or a motorbike. Some of the motorbike guys say that the road is dangerous because of elephants, and that it will take five hours, but at least one of them appears drunk, and none of them comes across as trustworthy. I decide to just sleep and see what happens the next day.
Stowing luggage on the roof of the van in Libongo

Pictures from Central African Republic

Makumba Gorilla Tracking
Spending one hour close to the Makumba gorilla family is an amazing experience: while Makumba the silverback sits on the floor like a king, his partner and two offspring frolick around.
Already when I talked to my hosts on my late arrival in the evening, they told me that the next day would be Gorilla Day. There would be several delegations arriving in Bayanga the following day, and gorilla tracking is limited to only a few visitors per group per day. Added to that: the groups were being inoculated in turns, and thus not all ready to be visited. I enjoy the views of the clouds slowly lifting over the landscape of the Sangha river before leaving. After the long journey, mostly through dense rainforest, from Yaoundé, I now feel I have arrived in the heart of Africa, and I cannot wait to finally explore, and the gorillas might be the most memorable experience right away. A bumpy one and a half hour ride takes us from Bayanga to Bai Hakou. From there, one BaAka pygmy leads the way, followed by the guide, me, and another pygmy who is behind me. I am amazed at how the tracker walks fast ahead, without hesitation at the many trails from which he can choose. We walk through dense rainforest, and I start wondering how easy it will be to actually spot the gorillas. There is no guarantee we will see them, although they claim an over 90% certainty to find them. Lowland gorillas also cover more ground than mountain gorillas. The guide starts to point out tracks and excrement on the ground, left behind by the moving gorillas that morning, and this heightens our excitement. We cross some open spaces in the forest, but this is unfortunately not the terrain preferred by the primates, and we continue through more dense forest, walking always faster. The tracker has radio contact, and I sense that we start walking in a circle, and wonder if this is a good sign. Then, suddenly, we see three persons, and my expectations suddenly drop - until they step aside, point ahead, and I see the furry back of Makumba, the silverback. Wow!
Makumba in the rainforest eating some fruit

BaAka net hunting
The BaAka pygmies are masters of the rainforest, and one of their skills is to hunt using nets: men and women alike fervently try their best to lure a beast into their nets.
After spending two days in the magnificent nature of Dzanga Park, I am determined to have a closer encounter with the BaAka pygmies. They have established themselves in the rainforest a long time ago, and use whatever they find in it for all kinds of purposes, among which food, construction materials, and medicine. I have met a few already: the trackers on both gorilla tracking as well as the visit to the elephants of Dzanga Bai are pygmies. There is a variety of activities you can do with the pygmies: construction of traditional huts, cooking, music, dance, crossbow hunting and net hunting. Various people have convinced me that the latter is the most authentic thing to do, and even though I don't like the idea of hunting just for the sake of being a visitor, I decide to go for it. When I hear that I can propose the pygmies to pay in order for them to release the caught animal instead of killing it, and buy a similar animal at the market, I think that is a good idea, and I go for it. We stop at a road stall selling mangoes, and the guide quickly recruits ten BaAka to join us.
BaAka pygmies starting to sing on their way to the net hunt in the forest

Dzanga Bai
Spending a day on the wooden platform of Dzanga Bai gives a great opportunity to watch the elephants, buffaloes, bongoes and more on the large clearing in the forest below - you get so hooked, it is hard to leave!
Initially, I thought I could combine a visit to Dzanga Bai with another activity in the area, but my host suggested to stay the entire day at the site. It makes me all the more curious about the place when we walk from the trailhead through the forest, crossing a stream, and arrive at the observation platform within half an hour. I spot one elephant right away, and after we tiptoe up, the entire opening in the rainforest opens up before our eyes. I quietly put my camera and lenses on a wooden board, stand at the railing, and watch. Just watch. The bai, the opening in the forest below us, has a stream of water running through it. There are holes in the ground, and they must have some mysterious sweetness in their muddy waters, because the elephants love them. Actually, one of the reasons why bais like Dzanga attract animals, is that the water provides minerals that are otherwise difficult for them to access. This is why I see many elephants enthusiastically digging into the water: they are good miners, and with their trunks and tusks able to dig into the water and the mud in search of the minerals they need. The holes they leave behind are also thankfully used by other animals to get their feed.
Two young elephants digging deep into one of the pools of Dzanga Bai

Pictures from Chad

Ab Touyour
After driving through flat landscapes with dry bushes, the silhouettes of the peaks near Ab Touyour come as a pleasant surprise and turn out to have a special beauty once you get up close.
On the first day of our two-week adventure trip through Chad, we embark on a ride from N'Djamena towards the east. We quickly leave behind the capital city, drive through dusty towns on the surprisingly good asphalt road, until we reach a spot where we have a tasty salad lunch. It turns out we will have those delicious salads every single day on our entire trip. After lunch, we continue driving east, and the landscape seems endless, and far from the beautiful views we had anticipated. Rather dull, flat plains, covered with dry bushes: Swahilian landscape. One reason we are still glued to the windows of our Landcruisers is that there is the occasional nomad family dragging their belongings through the landscape on their camels and donkeys, often very colourful affairs.
Late afternoon sunlight on the peak of the Ab Touyour range

Terkei amphitheatre west
The gateway to the Ennedi region, the Terkei massif gives a first glimpse of rock formations lying in the landscape like big fortresses, with arches and holes, peaks and walls.
After more than three days of driving through mostly flat Sahelian landscapes, we leave the asphalt behind near Kalait, and continue driving north through flat landscapes. Then, the shape of large rock formations appear at the horizon in the blurry light of the heat of a Chadian desert day. We finally get close to the destination of our journey through Chad. When getting close to the rocks, we get to see their vertical walls, and the curvy shapes at the top. We drive straight towards one of those walls, when suddenly an arch appears, and our drivers steer our Landcruisers through it to find a spot in the shade. We are all excited: we feel that after long days on the road, our journey through the Ennedi now really begins.
Rock formations of the west Terkei massif seen from above

Terkei Kisimi
Driving and walking around the Terkei Kisimi in Ennedi is spectacular, with bizarre rock formations, caves, desert, and rock paintings which prove that people lived here thousands of years ago.
After leaving the West Amphitheatre of Terkei, we drive further northeast. The sun is behind us, casting a warm light on the landscape. We have now entered the Ennedi region, and it seems that the views get better every metre we advance. We see rock formations on the left, on the right, and straight ahead, and the views are changing all the time. We see pillars we did not see before, and others disappear behind us. At every moment, I feel like asking for a stop to enjoy the landscape, but then realize that I don't know what lies ahead. I am happy I am not driving myself: I would have stopped every ten metres. Finally, when we reach a ridge of sand with large rock formations, we stop, and get off.
Desert view of Terkei Kisimi: rocky pillars in the sand

Tokou wells
The Tokou wells are dug into the sand at the entrance of a small canyon, being a sure spot to see nomads bringing their cattle to drink, and fill up their own containers, too.
Driving through the mesmerizing landscape of Ennedi, with an abundance of rock formations, we eventually reach a shady spot at the foot of rock formations. To our surprise, a small group of foreigners leaves just as we arrive, here, in the middle of nowhere. We see nomads with their cattle, and quickly realize that there are wells dug into the sand. Their goats, donkeys and horses all gather around the holes in the ground, while the nomads fill their water bags. Before getting off the car, our guide tells us to be very cautious taking pictures: nomads apparently are quite camera-shy. When we get closer to the furthest well, we tread carefully while approaching the colourful nomads.
Nomads at the self-dug water wells of Tokou

Tokou massif
Amazing spires of rock, slender towers in the desert, with arches giving access to yet more rock formations, and pre-islamic tombs in a necropolis are what you can see in the area of Tokou.
After leaving the wells of Tokou behind us, we drive through desert landscape, dry plains with a bush here and there, and rock formations scattered around us. Every now and then, we see a group of camels, a few nomads, perhaps on the way to the wells we have seen before to fetch water? Some of the rocks have weird shapes; we are driving through a landscape of towers and walls. And then, finally, we stop: straight ahead, we see a bottle-shaped rock. We get off, walk closer, admiring this amazing tall tower of vertical rock, shaped in such a curious way. Continuing our journey, we come across other towers, other walls, and the question comes back again and again: how were these rocks shaped the way they look now?
Rock pillars and walls in Tokou

Guelta d'Archeï
When you hear the wailing of the camels while walking through a narrow canyon, you feel that something exceptional is coming up, and this is confirmed when you finally see them bathing in the water of Guelta d'Archeï.
After meeting a local family the day before, and a great night under the stars in a secluded spot under a rock formation, we set out in the morning for a hike to the Guelta d'Archeï. We scramble up a rocky path, reach a pass, and from then on, we descend in the shadow of the high vertical walls of the canyon we walk into. The floor of the canyon consists of sand and rocks, some of them big outcrops which are perfect viewpoints. We see several small animals dart away upon our approach. At one point, our guide gestures to be quiet. Then, we hear that strange sound for the first time, amplified by the vast walls of the canyon, coming to us in stereo: the wailing of camels. The closer we get, the louder it becomes. Then, when we climb another outcrop of rocks, we reach a fantastic viewpoint, and our jaws drop.
Camels in the Guelta d'Archeï

Abaike Tassili
The plains around Abaike are littered with many rock formations, some of which are truly bizarre and seemingly impossible - you can wander the area for hours, with always more rocks to discover.
We drive through spectacular scenery, and there is one point at the end of the afternoon when some of us are really disappointed that we do not stop and camp. But our convoy continues, and after driving through some less interesting landscapes, we suddenly enter a huge area with hundreds of rock pinnacles. While they all have more or less the same height, they vary in shape. Some of them seem impossible: a very thin middle with a much heavier part on top. How can they keep balance, why don't they collapse? It is only half an hour before sunset that we finally park, and most of us rush towards the sunlight. We see an amazing amount of stunning rocks, and given the little time we have left before darkness, it is hard to decide where to go.
Sunrise with silhouettes of Ennedi landscape in the foreground

Eyo demi
Crossing the desert on the northern fringe of the Ennedi gives you the quintessential desert views: undulating sand dunes, wind constantly reshaping the ribbed surface, mysterious mountains.
We drive further north in our exploration of the Ennedi, and make a short stopover in the town of Fada. It turns out to be a friendly town, in which I would have loved to spend more time, but we need to continue further north. Strangely enough, there are short stretches of asphalt here, which comes a delusion: driving off road has proven to bring us even closer to the wild landscapes we drive through. The landscape has been dry ever since we left N'Djamena, and we have seen sand dunes on our way here. But now, we are about to enter classic desert terrain. We drive over sand dunes, and when we ask the driver if we will see more sand, he grins. A short break under one of the few trees allows us a view of higher sand dunes ahead.
Mountain rising above the desert near Eyo demi

Teguedei Salt Lakes
After driving for hours, and even days, through extremely dry landscape with rock formations and sand dunes, discovering a salt lake seems almost like a miracle - downside: you cannot swim in it!
We have been driving through desert landscape for days, gazing at seemingly impossible rock formations, climbing orange sand dunes, meeting a camel caravan doing what others have done for centuries: crossing the desert, and we have loved it. But today, we set up lunch under one of the few big trees in this rather hostile environment, and I set out for a walk. I first come across all kinds of small trees and bushes, and then walk on to see red-and-white rock formations. Instead of taking the same road back again, I decide to venture in another direction and make a loop. There are taller trees ahead, which look quite green from a distance, and I walk towards them to see more. When I see a glimmer of water through the foliage, I get more excited.
Salt lake mirroring a mountain of rock and sand

Ounianga Lakes
The view of the fresh water lake of Ounianga Serir, fringed by palm trees, in the middle of a desert landcape, is a miracle by itself - and then, there are more lakes beyond the horizon.
A day of driving through desert landscapes, passing a salt water lake at Teguedei, brings us to some mighty rocky mountains, all surrounded by sand. We get off, the Landcruisers drive to our camping spot, and we climb up a few steps to a ridge from where a panoramic view unfolds below us as we walk. More mountains, more sand dunes, and then: Wow! A strip of green lies in the orange desert landscape, and in it, we see the blue shimmer of water. It is too late to go down now; we walk down the other side, towards a ridge where the cars are parked, and set up our tents. We discover that he rock formations provide great natural bathrooms for a basic wash. After a pretty windy night, we follow a ritual that now has become our daily routine: wake up before sunrise, and walk towards the west.
Ounianga Serir, a fresh water lake in the middle of the desert

Chadian people
You may not meet many people traveling through Chad simply because there are not many Chadians, but when you do, they mostly turn out to be surprisingly friendly and curious about those who visit their beautiful country.
When preparing for my journey to Chad, I was focused only on the logistics, and seeing some of the most beautiful desert scenery to be found in the Sahara. Many people were worried about my plans visiting this forgotten country. In fact, visiting the remote Ennedi region in the northeast is virtually impossible unless you join an organized tour. This means traveling in a convoy of cars, which makes chances of meeting people even smaller. Fortunately, it turned out we could create interactions with the locals almost every day, meetings that were often short, and surprising, to both the Chadians and ourselves. After seeing cars with Chadians loaded on the rooftop, my first real encounter was with a few men at a market in a town in central Chad. They turned out to be most friendly, and to my surprise, took out their cell phones to take pictures of me. This made it easier for me to pull out my camera and ask them to return the favour. As always on the tour, we had to move after a short while, but I had wanted to stay, chat more, walk around, listen, and look at their colourful dresses and the beautiful faces.
Woman and girls coming to sell souvenirs

Koraa
Traveling through the desert region of Koraa brings you classic views of sand dunes, tabular mountains, grand sceneries of an endless sea of sand, and even a forgotten battlefield with tanks.
After watching sunset from the top of a sand dune, sleeping at the foot of the same, and watching the sun rise from the same dune, there is time for a walk in the morning in the desert landscape. Walking in the desert always brings surprises: what looks like sand deposited haphazardly in the emptiness of endless plains, turns out to hide small bushes, many insects and other animals living in and around the sand. Some of us find stones once used as spearpoints. The ribbed sand, constantly reshaped by the wind, and the sun playing around the sharply defined sides of the dunes, changing the colours: it is just not true that the desert is dead. Instead, it is always in flux, always alive, always fascinating to watch once you develop the eye for it.
Camels appearing small in the grand scenery of the desert
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/koraa.html

Bichagara
The desert scenery around Bichagara is dramatic and spectacular: huge sand dunes leaning against rock formations, arches, pillars, soft lines of sand, seemingly endless plains: landscapes where you could lose yourself forever.
As has become custom on our journey through the Ennedi region, we climb a sand dune in time to watch the sky towards the east turn lighter and lighter, from deep orange to bright yellow, when the sun rises from behind mountains that for now look like black silhouettes. After breakfast, we make a short stop in a village to take more water, and then, gigantic rock formations appear at the horizon. On the sandy desert floor, which looks quite flat here, rugged and steep mountains appear. To our delight, we stop on top of a sand dune, and this is where we start walking. I get permission to climb up a rock formation on the left, which brings me to a spot from where the views over the plain are superb. Islands of rock in a sea of sand, the desolation and sheer beauty of the place are mesmerizing. A pity we did not camp here.
Plain with rock formations floating in the desert

Pictures from Comoros

Hombo hike
The hinterland of Mutsamudu offers rich nature, rivers, waterfalls, and viewpoints which makes diving into the green island of Anjouan easily accessible.
When we were on our way to Anjouan, we had envisioned hikes on the island. But when we wake up the morning after our arrival, we hear rain coming down on the roof; outside, a grey sky is hanging low above the sea, and the mountains behind the town are hardly visible. Fortunately, the skies clear, and we walk to the main square where minivans leave for destinations anywhere on the entire island. We want to go to Bambao, which we think is not too far. It turns out there are 3 places called with the same name; the only minibus going there only has two passengers without much happening around it. We do not want to waste more time, and decide to go for a walk in the town. Walking up a street, we somehow end up next to Mutsamudu river, where people are washing their laundry and themselves, and chicken are looking for something to eat.
Tropical vegetation close to Mutsamudu, above the river

Mount Ntringui hike
It is a steep climb without sweeping views from the top as a reward, but working your way up Mount Ntingui is still worth the effort for the varied landscapes you pass through and Lake Dzialandzé, which gives life to the island.
When our boat approaches the island late in the afternoon, we actually get a glimpse of the summit above a layer of clouds, and it reminds me of one of the things I wanted to do on the island. The day after our arrival starts with rain, and we explore the hinterland of Mutsamudu, but when the next day looks more promising, we get in touch with a guide, who tells us that my plan of climbing the mountain from Lake Dzialandzé on the other side, and descending directly back into town, is theoretically possible, but dangerous after the rain that has come down on the island on the previous days and months. We are at the end of the rainy season. Instead, we head off to the lake by car - and before we know it, we are driving into heavy rain. Visions of a very wet hike come to my mind, but a little later, there are only clouds around us. We hike up to Lake Dzialandzé, and the views of the slopes with agriculture and trees, and the floating clouds, are great also thanks to fine light seeping through the clouds.
Clouds clinging on to the mountains

Mutsamudu medina
The winding alleys of the old medina of Mutsamudu are a labyrinth that is exciting to explore for the small treasures that you can find here: carved wooden doors, small mosques, shops, and more.
We had several plans for our stay on Anjouan, but the day after our excursion to Mount Ntringui, we wake up to heavy rains. We were supposed to drive around the island, visit Domoni, or even a beach, but that does not make much sense in this kind of weather. Instead of stopping, the torrential rain continues to fall all day long, and we end up not even leaving the hotel. The next day, we are supposed to leave the island, but wake up to more rain; moreover, the wind has picked up, and we can see violent waves on the sea from our window. The boat ride will be a choppy one, that is for sure. Then, the lady preparing breakfast is the first to bring the news: a cyclone is on its way. We walk to the office of the boat, and are told that there will be no sailing until two days later because of the weather. Asking around, we end up buying a plane ticket; we do not have much time left before we need to return home, which now suddenly seems far away from here.
Shops in the Arab quarter of Mutsamudu

Moroni old town
The combination of narrow alleys with old, decaying houses, some of which have beautifully carved wooden doorposts, and a handful of mosques are waiting to be explored in the old town of Moroni.
Freshly arrived on the island of Grande Comore, we enter the town in heavy rainfall, but when we have found a place to stay and left our luggage, the sun is out to greet us. We walk the coastal road towards the old part of town, and soon realize that the narrow road with bends is quite dangerous to walk on. When we reach the small harbour of Moroni, we see an attractive old mosque with a square minaret in the soft afternoon sun. We continue a little bit until we come to the old Friday mosque just across the port. Two floors with arches make this curved building a remarkable one, and we sit down to watch the sunlight giving the white walls a warm glow. We walk to the Europe Square, and enter the old town. The streets are busy; people selling and buying stuff, and we walk the narrow streets until it is dark.
Late afternoon sun on a row of houses in the old town of Moroni

Lac Salé
One of the many craters on the shore of Grand Comore, Lac Salé is filled with water and surrounded by a beautiful stretch of coastline, making for a great short hike.
After the cyclone had kept us stranded at the island of Anjouan, we arrive back on Grand Comore the day before our departure. It seems inevitable we now miss out on some of the things we had wanted to see on this biggest island of the archipelago. Then, we calculate we could actually at least see one of the sights: Lac Salé, recommended by a waiter in the newly opened Indian restaurant in Moroni. It is a crazy idea: find a taxi, leaving town early, drive up to the lake, and back to the airport to be dropped off in time for our flight back home. After the heavy storm and rain of the previous days, we wake up on a clear blue sky, and felt a pang of regret that we had to leave, with a feeling that we could have seen more of the green, volcanic islands of the Comoros.
The water-filled crater of Lac Salé

Pictures from Congo

Vaga border crossing
Getting into Congo from Gabon turned out to be one of the most intense and complete travel adventures I have ever undertaken so far; technical breakdowns, getting stuck on the way, fights with the police, and a truly welcoming feeling once inside the country.
Once in Léconi, the border with my next destination, Congo, was around 15 minutes away on a newly asphalted road. According to the stories I had heard, there was still a stretch of some 100k of sandy trails on the other side of the border, but after that, smooth driving all the way to my destination Brazzaville. Because of the road conditions, there is no regular transportation across the border, and the challenge was to find that first. I had already been asking around in Franceville, and knew that on Friday afternoon, a truck would pass. But I wanted to leave before, also because I wanted to be in town before the weekend, in order to arrange practical things. While looking for transportation to the Léconi canyon, I was offered a ride for 45.000FCFA; the driver promising to deposit me on the first town on the Congolese side in two hours. That seemed very fast, and I hoped to find something for a better price. On the way to Eau Claire, the small river west of Léconi where I took a refreshing dip after the morning visit to the canyon, I walked to the nearby immigration office. I got my exit stamp, and the friendly officer advised me to stay in his office until trucks heading for Congo would show up. He said that they normally start to show up after 4pm, and I was lucky enough to find a car that took me to the office again a few hours later. The officer was still there, and happy with the soft drink I had taken for him. He asked me to stow my luggage and take a seat, and so it was that we were watching a documentary on the life of Margareth Thatcher. At the same time, it was a good opportunity to see the operations of an immigration office from the other side. Mostly, my friend would just wave at passing cars: friends or relatives. Some times, he would actually stop a car. While in the previous weeks, the police officers had become my enemy number 1 here, with the absolute low of one of them trying to destroy my passport, which ended in a physical fight in which I managed to retrieve it, I now saw a friendlier face. My enemies here were the fourous, small insects that were turning my legs into a battlefield. After two hours, the officer summoned an old, blue Toyota pickup truck without any load inside, on the parking. The officer and the guy talked for a while, while I was outside enjoying the sun, until I heard them negotiate a price. The guy, a Cameroonian from Bafoussam, was heading for Congo, and willing to take me. He showed me on the map where he was heading, Ewo, and told me that from there, I would easily find direct transportation on sealed roads to Brazzaville. I could be there around 3pm the next day - much faster than I had anticipated. I was quite happy, but wanted to stay longer; Ewo was more to the north, and he would not be taking the direct road to Okoyo, but some inside road. I preferred to stay and see other alternatives first, but a different police officer had joined, and indirectly made it clear to me that, now that I found transportation, I should stay in Léconi and wait for the vehicle to leave. I boarded the car, and we drove to the petrol station, which fortunately was stocked now - the day before, it had been out of petrol. I wondered if the driver knew this; it seemed a tricky thing to arrive here, the last town before the border, without sufficient petrol. We drove to a house in Léconi, where a fight ensued between the driver and someone else, about tomatoes. They were both shouting at each other, but looking at a guardien and me instead of each other. An embarrassing situation. We drove to another petrol station, where the driver started filling the jerry cans in the back of the truck. I proposed he would pick me up when he was done loading his truck, and installed myself in the pleasant hotel I had been staying in. Instead of 8pm as he had promised, it was almost half past ten when he showed up, the staff of the hotel were falling asleep, and I felt bad about it: they were waiting for me to leave. But as soon as I stepped inside the vehicle, I felt excited. I had no clue what lay ahead of me, how I would survive the night, and how the border crossing was going to be. I could not know, since the adventure I was embarking on, turned out to be one of the biggest in my travel life.
With ingenuity and just four men, we managed to get our heavy pick-up truck back on the sandy track

Brazzaville
A pleasant city on the banks of the mighty Congo river, Brazzaville has some remarkable monuments, a quiet city centre, and bustling neighbourhoods to keep the visitor busy.
When I arrived in Brazzaville, I had been travelling for a long time since my departure from Gabon. As the bus pulled into the outskirts, I was looking outside, and soon after I stepped off the bus and took a taxi to the city centre, I liked the atmosphere around me. There was the mess that is common in most African cities, there was an abundance of traffic, but although there were many people on the streets, it somehow managed to give a peaceful feeling. I was full of plans to explore Congo. I wanted to see several waterfalls, go to a wildpark with gorillas and other animals, and explore the city. Unfortunately, I found out that it was impossible to arrange anything: either roads were impassable after heavy rains had fallen a few days before, a park would only re-open within a few months after my departure, or it was impossible to arrange transportation. It took several days before I was sure that I could not make any trips outside the city, and also that applying for a visa for neighbour DRC was impossible - someone who was supposed to help me to arrange it, never showed up. In the time between my efforts to get things organized, I walked around the city, which I liked always more. Mostly without real goals, just turning corners, getting the feel of the city, following my intuition, taking busy roads, but also sandy streets that in some cases seemed almost abandoned. What makes Brazzaville unique, is its proximity to Kinshasa, the capital of neighbouring DRC that is just across the wide Congo river, making them the two closes capital cities in the world. The corniche was close to where I stayed, and I ended up checking the views every day. Once, I walked further south, to reach the house built for president Charles de Gaulle, and currently in use by the French ambassador. Next to it, I found a monument honouring Pietro Savorgnan de Brazza, the Italian-turned-Frenchman who found the city when he found the Congo river he was looking for. Guys were playing football, and I walked to the viewpoint a little higher up the river bank. From here, Kinshasa was looming on the other side of the river, while the Corniche and the Namemba tower which defines the skyline of the Congolese capital seemed to be at stones throw. There is a small circular terrace, with brightly coloured tiles in which distances to major cities in the world are displayed; unfortunately, it lacks maintenance and is slowly crumbling away. The path that leads to an even better, because unobstructed viewpoint, is overgrown. As is so often the case in Africa, I wondered why this was so. Such a beautiful point, that so many people could enjoy - and it lies in disrepair.
Looking up the pointed windows and doors of Saint Annes basilica

Pictures from Democratic Republic Congo

Goma
Located on the northern shore of Lake Kivu, Goma could have been a relaxing place to live, were it not for the fact that it lies directly at the foot of one of the most active volcanoes of the world.
Crossing the border from Gysenyi to Goma turns out to be surprisingly easy, and after finding a place to stay and leaving my stuff there, I continue walking the streets of this unique city. Just the name Goma stirs up images of endless streams of refugees crossing the border from Rwanda in 1994, trying to escape the genocide, while it came back to the news when it was part of the warzone of armed rebel factions and the army. Added to that, it lies at the foot of one of the most active volcanoes in the world, Nyiragongo, and has been destroyed several times in its history - the last time in 2002. There is a thick layer of grey clouds hanging low over the city when I walk the main street towards the north. It is dusty, I walk carefully because there are cars, motorbikes, and tschukudus, the typical handmade wooden autopeds that run down the streets. Often, a motorbike guy stops and offers a ride, but I do what I like most when arriving in a new place: use my feet, wonder aimlessly, and soak up the atmosphere. There are colourful, painted signs for hairdressers and beauty saloons, people sitting at the sidewalk, kids calling out muzungu, followed by either "morning" or "money", or just playing football with a self-made ball.
Typical wooden house with volcanic rock in Goma
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/goma.html

Nyiragongo Volcano
Once you have hiked up the Nyiragongo volcano and take a peek into its enormous crater, you can see, and hear, the full force of nature at work; when night falls, you can see the artist in Mother Nature at work.
While looking north in search of a sign of the Nyiragongo volcano on my first afternoon in rainy Goma, I suddenly see its lower slopes. Then, the clouds lift surprisingly quickly, and the full shape of the conical volcano with its flat top shows its menacing face. I feel admiration and awe for this mighty monster, knowing that within two days, I will hopefully be on that top myself. Suddenly, that seems like a daunting challenge. When the day of the ascent comes, I wake up to a sunny morning. Driving to Kibati on the back of a motorbike, which is right at the limits of Virunga National Park, and where the hike starts, is like zooming in on the Nyiragongo: I can see always more details of trees and rocks. Once at the staging post of the climb, the volcano looks even more impressive and rises steeply above me. I am early, sit in the sun while waiting for the other visitors, trying to soak up warmth before going up to the cold. Two girls from Norway turn up late: they have been held for hours at the border post which had taken me only a couple of minutes to pass. Together with a Canadian guy who has worked here for 6 months and who wants to see the top before he leaves in a couple of days, we make sure to put sun lotion on our skin, and after a short briefing, we are on our way at 11.15. We are at just under 2000m altitude, and the rim of the volcano is almost 1500m above us.
Fiery interior of the enormous lava lake of Nyiragongo volcano

Rwenzori Mountains
Apart from a chance to see the only glaciers of Africa, the Rwenzori Mountains also offer a unique and fairy-tale like vegetation that changes the higher you climb on these elusive mountains.
In preparing my visit of East DRC, I stumbled upon the Rwenzori Mountains, and the more I read about them, the more I wondered why these are not better known. They have the only glaciers on the entire African continent, were known as the Mountains of the Moon in antiquity (mentioned already by Ptolemy, based on traders who traveled past). The locals knew them of course, but it was Stanley to confirm their existence in 1888. For some decades, they were then thought to be the source of the Nile. They are often hidden from view by clouds, which made them harder to spot. After surviving some chaos on the airport of Goma and a pleasant flight to Beni in the north, advised because of the insecure situation on the ground making taking the bus a risky proposition, I am received by a driver who first takes me to Beni where we do some shopping before we are on our way to Mutsora, at the base of the Rwenzori Mountains. The road takes us through rolling landscapes, with people on overloaded bikes, women overloaded by cargo on their heads, and, the closer we get, the vague silhouettes of the Mountains of the Moon appear before our eyes. I get inspired, and at the same time, feel in awe: are we really going to climb almost to the top of that mighty range? After a night in a mouse-infested tent at the ICCN station, the day looks sunny, I meet my two porters and guide after a great walk from Mutsora to Mutwanga, and we are off after taking a pre-expedition photo.
Silhouettes of giant lobelias with mountains clad in clouds in the background

Pictures from Djibouti

Lac Assal
The lowest point of Africa and one of the hottest in the world, at Lac Assal an impressive heat wraps around your shoulders, while the white surface of the lake blinds your eyes. Remarkably, you can walk on part of the lake.
Normally, thinking of a lake would make you think of a peaceful, friendly place, small waves lapping the shore of a quiet environment, and a place with a moderate climate. Not so Lac Assal. Before setting out there, everyone warns you of the prohibitive climate, while common sense tells you that a dip in the lake will not be on the programme. Lac Assal is situated more than 150 metres below sea level, making it the lowest point on the African continent. Moreover, it is also one of the hottest points. The lake consists of very saline water; it is saltier than the Dead Sea making it virtually impossible to enter.
Lac Assal: a salty, white lake seen from the shore

Sable Blanc
One of the nicest beaches in Djibouti, Sable Blanc is not easily accessible - but once you are there, it is a truly peaceful and quiet place to wind down.
One of the reasons to go to Djibouti was to have some time at the sea, cool off in the waters of the Gulf of Tadjourah and to go scuba diving. After a visit to Moucha island, dominated by a resort but with some good diving, it became clear that, especially out of school holiday periods, it would not be easy to reach any beach destination in Djibouti. We decided to travel to Tadjourah and hop over to Sable blanc from there - even that was only possible during the Muslim weekend. But when the small boat from Tadjourah finally approached Sable blanc before sunset, we realized how beautiful it was.
Sable blanc: beach and quiet waters

Lac Abbé
As you see the sun rise over the shores of Lac Abbé, you might think you are not on the earth anymore: the landscape unfolding before your eyes is unlike any other.
Unfortunately, unreliability of several people caused us to leave late from Djibouti town. On the way to the south west, we crossed the two desert plains of Petit and Grand Barra, ancient lakes that have now become enormous dry plains. The drive further south of Dikhil was getting always more beautiful as we saw the sun sink behind the horizon, but we drove the last part of our way to Lac Abbé in darkness. The next morning, we were very eager to see the place we had arrived in. After a very early start, we waited in the plain off the shore of the lake for the sun to rise. When it did, we were amazed. As the sun was lifting the curtain over the landscape, enormous pointy shadows appeared all around us.
Lac Abbé: limestone chimney with clouds

Ardoukoba Volcano
Right in the middle of this highly active surface of the Earth, you can try to imagine the formation of a new ocean on top of a volcano.
Right on the fault line running through Eastern Africa, Ardoukoba Volcano sits above Lac Assal in an extremely active area of Djibouti. After a visit to and a dip in mysterious Bay of Ghoubbet, we followed the road around the bay on our way to Ardoukoba Volcano. A local boy we had picked up earlier at Lac Assal indicated when we had to leave the asphalted road. Right away, we were on rugged terrain, and it was a great moment for our friends to show their skills at driving a four wheel drive. Uneven rocks and deep grooves forced us to stop several times to see for ourselves what the best way up was.
Volcano with Lac Assal in the background

Djibouti town
Djibouti town is a special place, combining Islamic population, seedy bars, French legionnaires, arabic architecture, and African influences: an exotic mix.
After a night drive from Dire Dawa in Ethiopia, we arrived in the heat and chaos of Djibouti. The dirty streets and a humid, unforgiving climate were a complete contrast to what we were used to, and it took some time to adjust. But pretty soon, we discovered the attractions of Djibouti ville. There are no major sights, but the attractions are rather in the atmosphere, the collection of different architectural styles, the influences from Africa, the Middle East, and Europe, all making for an exotic mix. To the south of the city you can find the African quarter, a messy, noisy, dirty and poor area of town, but at the same time, a colourful and lively place. While less geared towards visitors, it is here that you will find lots of qat stalls where Djiboutians fill up on their daily dose of the sedative leaves.
Mahamoud Harbi or Arthur Rimbaud square with bus station and central market

Tadjoura
Tadjoura is a peaceful town right on the coast of the Gulf bearing its name, with a pleasant boulevard where you can join the locals for a stroll.
We visited Djibouti right in the middle of the Ramadan period. Apart from having to do more of an effort to find food, and finding people often tired and shops closed, we were not directly affected by it. This would change on our way to Tadjoura. After a drive with great views over the Bay of Ghoubbet and through the volcanic landscape around Ardoukoba Volcano, the minivan climbed up the empty road. Almost all other passengers asleep, it seemed we were well on our way to Tadjoura. Suddenly, on a straight stretch of road, the driver completely lost control of the minivan and we hit the shoulder of the road. Hitting big rocks that rocked the minivan, the driver woke up and finally managed to steer us back to the asphalt. He had simply fallen asleep, exhausted by sleeping very little during the night and not eating during the day. It was much later when we finallly arrived and installed ourselves in one of the few hotels, just outside town and right on the shore.
Shop on the waterfront of Tadjoura

Pictures from Egypt

Pyramids of Gizeh
You constantly have to escape the hassle of vendors and camel drivers on a visit to the pyramids which, of course, are one of the biggest must-sees of the world.
At the age of 11, I unexpectedly went on holidays to Zambia with my sister and parents. On the way back, we made a stop-over in Egypt. And although I have travelled a lot ever since, I never returned to Egypt ever after until recently. We obviously visited the pyramids near Cairo, and then went to the South, to Luxor. There, we rented bicycles, and cycled around the area. I clearly remember how impressed I was, when I saw the huge temples and statues, and how mystified I was by the inscriptions to be found everywhere. We also visited the National Museum in Cairo, from which I only remember the endless amount of items on display, and the feeling I had that I was seeing something of incredible importance without the ability to grasp its actual meaning, its links with other cultures, the shrewdness of the ancient Egyptians.
Pyramids near Cairo

Coptic Cairo
In one of the most Islamic cities in the Middle East, a christian neighbourhood can be found; the Copts have been here since centuries and have conquered their own place in society.
Coptic Cairo - a christian sanctuary in a Moslem world and city. This is actually one of the oldest parts of the city, although it does not always show. Coptic Cairo actually is a walled part of the city - once inside, the chaos of everyday life seems far away. Research shows that a settlement was built here around 24 centuries ago. Always on the river Nile. At those times, Islam had not yet arrived in this part of the Middle East.
Al Muallaqa church Cairo

Bab Zuweyla
Two slender minarets tower above one of the old city gates of Islamic Cairo, and offer a great view over the entire city.
Cairo is an enormous city now, and an ancient one. While the city spreads out in all directions, the old city is a confined area which can easily be explored on foot. This was the royal enclave, which was approximately one square kilometre. Cairo, or Al Qahirah, was a walled city with some sixty gates, protecting the city from outsiders. Some of these gates have survived the onslaught of time pretty well. Before entering Islamic Cairo, I decided to visit Bab al Zuweyla, the former southern gate. The two minarets could not be missed from a distance. The chaotic traffic of Cairo passed right in front of the gate, while pedestrians, tradespeople, bicycles, motorcycles, and even small vans all squeezed through the gate into Al Muizz Il Din Allah, one of the main streets of the old city.
Bab Zuweyla: minarets towering over the gate

Houseboats
While they have a friendly appeal, the houseboats softly rocking on the Nile actually have a long history in all kinds of activities throughout many centuries.
During the period between World War I and II, the houseboats of Cairo became a tourist attraction, but nowadays you will not find many tourists around. Admittedly, the boats are not easy to see, because they are hidden behind fences and gardens, which of course also gives their appeal to those living in them. But apart from the peaceful atmosphere in this neighbourhood, the houseboats, or dahabiyyas, have a long history. German spies were hiding on the boats, Cleopatra lived on the Nile, they were used for artist gatherings including Nobel Prize laureate Naguib Mahfouz, but also by Napoleons officers, and as casinos.
Houseboats floating in the river Nile

Al Maridani mosque
Completely worn down and still heavily damaged by the 1992 earthquake, the Al Maridani mosque shows its beauty for whom takes the time to discover it. As a bonus, the view from the roof and the minaret is fabulous.
On a walk through the Darb al-Ahmar neighbourhood, I visited the Al-Maridani mosque, one of the many mosques in this vast city. The courtyard was almost empty, and perhaps therefore looked big. On the right was a beautifully decorated wooden panel wth Quranic texts in calligraphy; a door led to the Qibla riwaq, the prayer hall with the qibla wall and mihrab, directly pointing towards the Ka'bah in Mecca and thus giving the direction of prayer. The late afternoon light fell into the prayer hall, and the first impression was one of decay. Apparently, the 1992 earthquake hit the mosque hard, and restoration has not yet benefited most of the mosque.
Citadel and mosques seen from Al Maridani mosque

Ar-Rifai mosque
Not only an impressive mosque, but also the final resting place for Egyptian royalty and the last Iranian shah, ar-Rifai mosque overwhelms the visitor even before he enters.
From a distance, it is not immediately obvious that ar-Rifai mosque is so much newer than its enormous neighbour, Sultan Hassan mosque, with which it shares the same colour, style and height. Until the end of the 19th century, the space that is now occupied by the mosque was a shrine of the medieval Islamic saint Ahmad al-Rifai, who would eventually give his name to the mosque built on his shrine. The zawiya, or shrine, was a destination for pilgrims who believed it had special healing powers. Ahmad al-Rifai lived in the 12th century and was known to have exceptional healing powers. He was the founder of the Sufi Rifai order.
Minarets of ar-Rifai mosque dwarfing the visitor

Darb al-Ahmar street scenes
One of the historical areas of Cairo, Darb al-Ahmar offers the opportunity to get an idea of how Cairo must have been in the late Middle Ages.
West of the new Azhar Park in the old part of Cairo, you can find Darb al-Ahmar (Red Road) neighbourhood. Back in time, when the walled city of Al Qahira simply could not handle more houses or inhabitants, building had to continue outside the city wall. Darb al-Ahmar was one of the neighbourhoods that sprang up, and was the thriving area of the city in the 14th and 15th centuries. It was mostly a residential area, inevitably with a large number of smaller and larger mosques.
Horse-pulled cart with man

Sultan Hassan mosque
One of the largest mosques in the world, Sultan Hassan mosque also serves as a madrassa and mausoleum, although the sultan himself is not buried here.
When approaching the Sultan Hassan mosque from the direction of the Citadel, the structure appears enormous, which is not strange: it measures 150 metres long and 36 high, while its highest minaret is almost 70 metres. The mosque is an example of Mamluk architecture, its exterior quite simple and impressive mostly because of its size. Sultan Hassan had the mosque constructed in the mid-14th century; it was paid for largely by the victims of the Black Death that was raging the city at the time. The sultan's fame was therefore not positive, and he was murdered before the mosque was ever completed. Since his body disappeared and was never found again, the mausoleum of the mosque holds the remains of his two sons.
Lanterns and dome in the courtyard of Sultan Hassan mosque

Pictures from Equatorial Guinea

Kogo border crossing
Getting the visa had been an adventure in itself, but actually entering Equatorial Guinea at Kogo turned out to be a nightmare - a confrontation with authorities with an entirely authentic way of reasoning.
While preparing for my Central Africa trip, I knew that getting into Equatorial Guinea would be a difficult task. Still, it was one of the countries left to visit, so I paid the embassy in Libreville a visit. A little difficult to find because they had just moved to a new location in a shiny building, I was welcomed by a Senegalese guardien, and the security staff were remarkably friendly. I filled out the application form, and waited until a staffmember of the embassy, dressed in neatly pressed trousers and an orange shirt came out, inspected my documents, and told me I could only enter if I would wear trousers, not "culottes". I had 3/4 pants, and was at a loss, but the friendly guardien let me into his small room at the entrance, and borrowed me his pants. Once inside, I was overwhelmed by a luxuriously fitted interior. After a while, I was admitted into the office of an older gentleman, who looked kind. Things were going so smoothly, I wondered how I ever thought that getting the visa would be difficult. He closely examined all the documents, leafed through my passport in which he was looking at all the entry and exit stamps and visas, and after a while, laid them down. We were speaking French, because he had a French newspaper on his desk, and he asked me more about my job. Then, abruptly, he said that I needed a letter of invitation. He stared in front of him, and I politely asked him how I could obtain such letter, if I was applying for a tourist visa, and obviously did not know anyone in the country. He just repeated the requirement, and there was a long silence. After a while, he got his reading glasses, and continued reading his newspaper, as if I were not sitting at his desk anymore. When asked, he motioned me away with his hand. I went to an internet place, tried to call hotels in Bata, but after a while, learnt that hotels were not willing to send an invitation letter, as this would imply responsibility for me during my stay in the country. I went to the consulate of my country, who were very kind, but told me that my country does not have a representative in Equatorial Guinea yet. Moreover, they told me that getting a visa is extremely difficult, even for people who go there for work. I wrote a good friend of mine who is a security officer for the UN, and who immediately contacted his colleague in Equatorial Guinea; but he also said that getting the visa was next to impossible even for diplomatic staff. I then wrote a letter in which I explained the purpose of my visit, and returned the next day. This time, the clerk at the entrance was less than friendly, and I was not even allowed to talk to the old man I had seen the day before: the invitation was missing, and without it, they would not consider my application. When asked how I could possibly get an invitation, he curtly answered that I should just go somewhere else, and from then on, ignored me. Just as I was undressing outside the gate (I was using the silver-grey pants of the guardien again), and trying to accept that visiting Equatorial Guinea was not going to happen this time, a tall, almost bold guy with golden glasses appeared, and asked me if I was OK. When I told him the story, he went inside, and within minutes, I passed the surprised clerk, and was sitting in yet another office with a white lady, the secretary of the ambassador. She glanced through my papers, and said that, as a tourist, I was not required to show any invitation. Within two minutes, the old man I had spoken to the day before, entered - undoubtedly warned by the clerk whom I had greeted with a big smile on my face while passing his desk, and he started speaking Spanish to the lady, perhaps thinking I would not understand. He said that they were dealing with an "extremely delicate matter" (referrring to me), but before he could continue, the lady asked me to wait outside. Through the brandnew wooden doors, I could hear their conversation, and imagined that he would have it his way - he was much senior than her. But after a while, she let me in again, carefully read the statement about the purpose of my travel, and took a copy of my passport and the visa for Gabon, so I could travel around freely. Then, she told me that the visa would be very costly: 400.000FCFA, over 600 Euro/800 US$. It took me aback, but in the back of my mind, I quickly calculated that any other way of visiting the country would be more costly. I had read that you have to pay for additional permits while in the country, so I asked her if I had to pay more upon entering, if I could use any border crossing, if I was free to move around the country, and if I could take pictures, and she assured me that yes, with a tourist visa I would be completely free to go anywhere and do anything I wanted to, and that no, I would not have to pay anything anymore in the country. She said that, perhaps, a crazy guy at the border might ask me for 1000F, but that I should just refuse to pay. She gave me her business card, and told me I could call her in case I ran into trouble. Arsenia: Spanish father, Guinean mother. As agreed, I called her when I arrived back in Libreville a few days later, and she told me to meet her in a restaurant next to Mbolo, the biggest supermarket in town, but to allow her some time to prepare herself (the embassy was already closed). She showed up in miniskirts and high-heeled shoes, and a tightly fitting dress that showed her female figure very well - a stark contrast with the strict dress code of her embassy. She seemed nervous, and asked me to follow her in her luxurious black car with blinded windows. A small, white dog called Luna was sitting at the pedals and jumped to the backseat, right on my application form. Now that she was sitting next to me, I could look into her dress, with part of her breasts exposed. I suddenly realized that she wanted me to see her like this - she had carefully chosen this attire to meet me. With the 400.000FCFA in my pocket, it felt like I was dealing with a high-class hooker, about to embark on a long, steamy night. Instead, she asked me for my passport, pulled out a receipt, and rather abruptly said "Cuatro". I handed her the money, she wrote the receipt, put a stamp of the embassy and her signature. I again asked her if I would really not need any additional permit to take pictures, upon which she took out a brand-new iPhone 5 and called a colleague who confirmed that, with the tourist visa, I was free to take pictures. I could not help but think that the money I had just given her was sufficient to buy that same flashy phone she was using. She suddenly looked very tired, and I wished her a good weekend. There would be no steamy night with her.
Island between Cocobeach and Kogo

Kogo
A small town on the estuary between Equatorial Guinea and Gabon, I found the main charm in Kogo inside a school where I talked to some of the students.
The deep anger I felt towards the authorities, now turned into a much deeper compassion for the people here who have to live under this regime. In itself a very rich, oil-producing country, the wealth is restricted to the happy few, while most people don't even have access to electricity or running water. After all the trouble of getting into the country, I was up early the next morning, and walked around the small town. I had hoped to do so the afternoon of the day before, but it had been raining, and moreover, I had been kept inside the police station until well after sunset. The sunlight was now coming from the wrong side. The Spanish sisters had talked to me about how Kogo is being redesigned, how a modern hotel, a conference centre, and a supermarket are being built at the seaside, where buildings have been torn down, including their school building. I now saw those projects rising from the ground. One person asked me if I had a visa and my passport stamped, but otherwise, I was not bothered. I did take pictures, but only after looking around me carefully. Every time I pressed the release button of the camera, it felt like a small victory over the Commissar. I walked along the waterfront, with some good views of the Muni estuary on which Kogo is located. Several islands appeared, separated by quiet waters in which the clouds were reflected. I visited the small convent and the church, where mass was being conducted.
The calm waters of the Muni estuary near Kogo
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/kogo.html

Bata waterfront
A modern city rises out of the Atlantic Ocean, mirroring the wealth that the country possesses, with a lovely waterfront area.
Driving to Bata from Kogo proved easier than I had expected. The car was, of course, full, I was sharing the front seat with a not-too-fat passenger, so it was relatively easy going. Moreover, it takes some two hours on the new asphalted road, where previously you had to cross by boat to Acalayong and then proceed from there. Surprisingly, the police posts turned out to be OK with my presence: they checked my passport, and waved me through. Only once did I have to get out of the car. There were big signs on all these posts, claiming that not only the person asking for money was punishable, but also the one paying. In any case, the taxi dropped me off in Bata, and after a ten minute walk, I reached the waterfront, and found myself a reasonably priced hotel (there are not many of those, since this country is hardly visited by tourists, making (oil) businessmen the only ones needing hotels). I dropped my bag, and directly set out exploring the city.
Looking south over the waterfront of Bata

Mbini
A quite lively town with a beach and modern bridge can be a welcome escape from the authorities of this oppressive country, and give you a chance to get in touch with locals.
Before entering Equatorial Guinea, I had several wishes of things I wanted to see. Some villages in the interior, going to Isla Corisco, and hiking in Monte Alén national park: the territorial part of the country (it also has an island off the coast of Cameroon, on which the capital Malabo is located), has a several opportunities to explore. But after the encounter with the authorities, and their scary and unreliable way of thinking, reading horror stories online of people who were caught in a "wrong" part of the country, ending up in jail, and the warnings I got from the very helpful staff of the Spanish consulate (who told me Monte Alén had been declared forbidden territory), I decided I did not want to risk ending up in jail. I could well imagine the only way out would be some high payments to the police, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Looking east over river Benito with the mountains of Monte Alén National Park the interior in the background
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/mbini.html

Pictures from Eritrea

Hamm
What started out as a walking trip of a day, ended being a two-day excursion of a destination we never reached! Fortunately, the scenery more than made up for it.
This is a special story on this site, because it is about a destination never reached. When preparing my trip to Eritrea, I was especially attracted to an excursion to a monastery in the South of the country. According to my guide, I first had to reach Hamm from the southern town of Senafe in two hours, from where it would be less than an hour to reach the monastery. I started out in the morning expecting to be back in the evening. I should have been warned when some local school boys told me it was over 30 km, but I trusted the guide. I followed the road, took shortcuts where possible, walked alongside the edge of the highland, looking down hundreds of metres in the valleys, and truly enjoyed the spectacular landscape. After walking fast for about 4 hours, I reached the village of Serha. When asking about Hamm, a school boy who knew some English pointed to the horizon. I realised that I had to go back to Senafe by bus.
Eritrean landscape: border with Ethiopia
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/hamm.html

Debre Bizen
Starting out in the fog of Nefasit, the walk to Debre Bizen monastery took me high above the clouds to the paradise of the monks.
Obtaining the permission for visiting the Eritrean monasteries required a lot of patience, since someone incapable of handling adminstration was doing the red tape. Once the precious paper was finally in my pocket, I took a bus towards Ghinda. I worried a little about the sun during the climb, and had taken a lot of water. However, soon after we left the central highland, we dived into a thick layer of clouds. When I got off at Nefasit, visibility was 10 metres, if not less, and it was cold. I decided not to take any guide, and paid dearly for it, since I missed the right path and ended up looking for it for over an hour and a half. I heard animals close by without seeing them, I heard cars on the road, I heard voices from a distance, but I always ended up on a path that somehow seemed right, but ended unexpectedly. Soaked and scratched from plants, I decided that I had to go with a guide. Just before entering the village, however, I saw a sign saying that women were not allowed, and I knew I had found the path. Apart from women, all female beings are forbidden to climb the mountain. After half an hour of climbing on a path that seemed a highway after the small ones I had been trying before, I suddenly saw the face of a rock high above me, through shreds of clouds. Within minutes, I was above the clouds and a magnificent view opened itself up to me. Walking from here was a true pleasure and when I walked into the monastery I was not as wet as I had been before.
Debre Bizen monastery: sunrise over clouds

Eritrean Markets
Markets in Eritrea are the place to go, not only for buying something, but also for seeing the dynamics of local life.
As in many other countries both in Africa and elsewhere, markets are a great place to go to in Eritrea. Of course, there are the areas where you can buy fruit and vegetables, meat and fish, grains and lentils, and there are other areas where you can get household goods and souvenirs. All these goods are on offer by women in colourful dresses, and walking around in these areas is a must and a lust for the eye.
Traditional Eritrean coffeepots, Asmara market

Eritrean people
Eritrea has sights to see and places to visit, but its people are one important part of any visit to the country; they are open, friendly and curious.
One of the great things of traveling is meeting new people. This is fairly easy in Eritrea. People are almost always interested in visitors, perhaps because they are still coming in low numbers. Sitting in a bus, your neighbour will try to talk to you. Walking in a street, people might approach you and ask you about your background. People are genuinely curious about their visitors. Perhaps especially since traveling for them is, for many practical reasons, impossible, they see foreigners as their only way of contact with a remote world. This is true especially in times when their borders are closed.
Young African girl in Galeelo

Eritrean colours
Eritrea is also attractive for its many bright colours that can be seen everywhere, especially in the clothes of the women you come across.
Eritrea is a colourful country, not just because of its architecture or its landscapes, but also because of the women with their brightly coloured dresses. They make every street or village, every stretch of desert or local bus a feast for the eye. You can walk in an apparently remote area of the country and come across a woman in bright yellow, orange, green or blue. For the women themselves, their dresses are probably just normal clothes, but for the visitor, they become the aesthetic ingredients of a street scene.
Eritrean woman with colourful clothes

Eritrean Religions
With roughly a 50-50 division, Islam and Christianity are equally present in Eritrea, there is only a small number of animists left.
Waking up in Asmara, the capital of Eritrea, can be accompanied by a simultaneous call to prayer from the muezzin and the sounding of the bell of the cathedral. Not surprisingly in a country with two main religions, it is remarkable how well both live together in this country. Amongst the Christians, the Orthodox Church is the largest group. They all have their own landmarks all over Asmara and, to a lesser degree, also in other parts of the country. Islam is present mainly in the coastal regions and towards Sudan, while Christians are prevalent in many parts of the highland.
Small mosque of Iddi

Dankalia
For a true sense of emptiness, a travel into the Dankalia region is the best option in Eritrea. Here, you will find endless stretches of barren landscape with very few tiny villages.
After an early start from Asmara, we picked up our companions in on the Assab expedition in Massawa and left behind the last asphalt before Assab minutes later. Within an hour, we stopped, Abdul, the driver, dived under the 4WD and soon announced that the breaks didn't work anymore. We convinced him that, instead of going back to Massawa, to continue driving and try our luck in the next village. It worked surprisingly well, even though we had to go over hilly roads with herds of goats and other animals crossing the road. Within an hour after arriving at the tiny village of Galeelo, the car was fixed and we had lunch - off we went on our way south. We saw ostriches and gazelles, in a landscape that was ever drier, flatter, and more desolate. We reached the desert, and as if to illustrate it, we saw sand dunes so symbolical for any desert. They were not high, graciously draped heaps of sand, blown into aesthetic forms by the ever blowing wind. Amazingly, between the dunes a subtle green could be seen, as if giving a sign of life where life could be least expected.
Dankalia region: beginning of desert

Badda
We wanted to explore the interior of the Dankalia desert and decided to go to Badda. It was a memorable visit indeed.
On our way to Assab and back, we followed the road and thus the coastline. We appreciated the desert landscape, but we also knew we were never far from the sea. We therefore decided that, on our way back, we had to see the interior of the region. We decided for Badda. After we had convinced Abdul, our driver, that we wanted to veer off the main road, we drove to Marsa Fatma, a collection of huts on the way to Massawa. A sandy road took us South from there, right into the Danakil Depression, famous for its inhospitability and as one of the hottest places on earth. Moreover, various ancient travel reports refer to the Afars, the local population, as proud and fierce. We miraculously passed the checkpoint in Adaito and were on our way to Badda, famous mainly for its volcanic lake.
Badda: desert landscape
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/badda.html

Dahlak archipelago
Part of Eritrea's attractions lie in its position on the Red Sea. The Dahlak Archipelago is the perfect way to explore Eritrea's Red Sea beauty.
Visiting the Dahlak Archipelago requires some organization to be done. Arriving in Massawa, the main sea port of Eritrea, is only the first step on the way to the islands in the Red Sea. It then requires patience, initiative and some luck to get together a group to set out for the islands. We managed to get together a group large enough for a sambuk, a local fishing boat, and set out for a three day tour. Our first destination was Madote, nothing more than a small strip of sand sticking out of the Red Sea, with marvellous turquiose water around it, and perfect for snorkelling and diving. We soon noted the exceptional amount of colourful fish and live coral in these warm waters.
Beach at Dissei island, Red Sea

Maryam Dearit
In the vicinity of Keren, there is a very old baobab tree, in which a small shrine has been erected; it gives a rare opportunity to step inside a tree and feel the special atmosphere of the shrine.
An easy and rewarding excursion from Keren is an approximately 2 kilometres walk to Maryam Dearit, or Madonna of the Baobab. Setting out from the market, you first have to pass the Italian war cemetery - this has been the site of fierce fighting in 1941, but also afterwards, in Eritrea's war of independence. Walking towards the north, we saw African huts instead of the houses of Keren, and reached the fields of the countryside. It was here that an old Eritrean caught up with us.
Maryam Dearit baobab tree near Keren

Asmara Architecture
Asmara has been the playground of various architects during various periods, and the results can be seen everywhere. It is probably the most interesting capital of Africa when it comes to architecture.
During Mussolini's time, Italy invested a lot of capital and manpower in embellishing Eritrea's capital. Asmara was even dubbed Piccola Roma, although it of course never attained the historical importance of Italy's capital. Still, the Italians made Asmara a gem among African capitals, and this can be appreciated to present days. After the Italian period, also other western architects experimented with styles and it is thus possible to walk for hours in Asmara admiring curious and beautiful buildings.
Cinema Impero, Asmara

Pictures from Eswatini

Phophonyane Falls
Hidden in the rolling hills of north-western Swaziland, Phophonyane Falls run down over some of the oldest rocks of the Earth, and offer walking opportunities.
We were driving north on our way to Malolotja National Park, but somehow missed the entrance, realized we did when we reached a viewpoint where we saw a river and green mountains in the background. We decided to continue to Phophonyane Falls, past Piggs Peak. After taking the turnoff from the main road, we drove down an empty dirt track through the forest until we reached a grassy parking spot. When we got out, we could hear the falls not far away. We felt like eating, ordered lunch, and went for a short walk - we could already see the water through the trees. We reached a first viewpoint, where we saw the water coming from above, and rushing down the open area in the forest.
View of Phophonyane from below

Malolotja National Park
Endless views of rolling mountains decorated with rocks, waterfalls tumbling down the highveld landscape, flowers, herds of blesbok, mines, and more can be explored in Malolotja National Park.
The landscape around us is bathing in a warm afternoon light as we enter Malolotja National Park. We drive past a small herd of blesbok, and see an area with rocks scattered around the grassy fields ahead. We quickly drop our stuff in a cabin, and start walking the main track of the park. To our dismay, the sun disappears behind dark clouds at the horizon, and the great light is gone. The next morning, I am outside before sunrise, and walk west. The small clouds in the sky are painted pink by the rising sun, which then touches the top of the mountains in the distance. I walk past a herd of blesbok and a few zebras, and watch at the scenery of a green valley ahead of me, with some rocks and trees, and a layer of clouds below. The clouds soon envelope me - time to have breakfast.
Sun rising over the mountains of Malolotja with clouds hanging in the valley below

Mkhaya reserve
A reserve in the east of the country, Mkhaya offers a great opportunity to see both white and black rhino, and there are a whole bunch of other animals you can quite easily spot in this friendly game reserve.
When we take the turn to Siphofaneni, our excitement starts to build. We have an appointment at the entrance of Mkhaya reserve, but only a description of where we have to be. We eventually see a ranger, immediately know he is our guy, and he then introduces himself as Lucky. We take that as a good sign. We follow him on his motorbike over a dirt track and through a river, leave our car, and start our first game drive. Our guide points behind us, and in the distance, we see a black rhino. Our guide opens a gate, and before we know it, we see two white rhinos. One of them seems to have no fear, and comes very close to our safari jeep. It allows us a great close-up of its horns, eyes, and skin. What impressive animals! Our guide tells us about both endangered species, and refuses to say how many there are inside the park. Everything is done not to give poachers ideas. He tells us the differences between the two rhinos, and how black rhinos (smaller ones) are the most endangered. They are also nocturnal, so more difficult to spot during the day.
White rhino in the afternoon sun

Sibebe rock
The second largest monolith in the world, Sibebe rock offers landscapes with cylindrical rocks, low vegetation, and wide vistas over an exciting landscape - all this just a short drive from the capital Mbabane.
After an early rise we are on our way back to Johannesburg. First, we head towards Mbabane, and instead of continuing on the highway to the border, we take a side road towards Sibebe rock. It is a Sunday morning, and even the main streets of Mbabane are very quiet. If we see someone on the streets, they seem to be on their way to church. Almost immediately after leaving the city, we are driving the Pine Valley road. Although we were looking forward to seeing the second largest monolith of the world, we had not expected this picturesque road that meanders through a pine forest at the foot of the massive mountain on our right. We see a bus which stands at the roadside, and passengers try to wave us down. But we really don't have time to take anyone: unfortunately, we are in a rush.
Road running between boulders on the slopes of Sibebe rock

Pictures from Ethiopia

Harar
Like a small jewel hidden in a corner of the country, Harar stands out in Ethiopia for being an Islamic town with a long history where you can easily spend a few days.
According to some Muslims, Harar is the fourth holiest city in the world. Combined with the legendary history of the old place, one even implying prophet Mohammed as the founder of the city, it made me expect an inaccesible city. For centuries, Harar was the pivotal place in the religious battles of the region, and used as a base by the infamous Ahmed Gragn, the left-handed imam who fought the Christian empire in the are in the 16th century. The walled city for a long time opened its city gates only for Muslims, and its autonomy only came to an end in 1875, although it still retains a special status within Ethiopia.
Harar: one of the many mosques of the city
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/harar.html

Blue Nile Falls
A hydro-electric plant has taken away much of the water, but the Blue Nile Falls remain a major natural attraction in Ethiopia.
From Bahir Dar, the Blue Nile Falls make for an easy day trip. Instead of taking a tour or one of the regular buses, we decided to rent a bicycle and make our legs to the work. It was a great way to be out in nature, to see the landscape and greet the people along the way, but at times it was also unpleasant, especially when kids started throwing stones. When we finally reached Tis Abay town, it seemed that the whole population was after us. People running with us, jumping in front of our bikes, trying to get our attention in all ways: we quickly bought our ticket, parked the bikes and walked off. Of course, this was not enough to escape, especially around the Portuguese Bridge, constructed in 1620, where souvenir sellers, kids posing as guides, and other locals just bored and looking for some diversion in the form of foreign visitors jumped on our backs.
Blue Nile falls: main waterfall

Koremi
Lying right on a clifftop in the vicinity of Harar, Koremi is a village all of its own. Some inhabitants even claim it to be one of the oldest settlements in this area of Ethiopia.
While Harar is a very interesting town in its own right, it is frequently visited, and it is easy to feel that people are used to visitors. Not far from Harar, though, you can find the village of Koremi, high in the mountains. Theoretically, it is possible to reach on foot, but we took our own transportation instead. A rough road takes you up through the delightful landscape of the area, and past the village of Hajifaj, and when you reach a small plateau with a collection of stone houses on top, you know you have reached Koremi.
Typical Koremi women

Debre Damo Monastery
Of the many churches in Ethiopia, Debre Damo probably has one of the most spectacular locations - as a result, reaching it is not easy, and anyway not allowed for women.
Almost as soon as you leave the main Adigrat-Adwa road, you can see the flat-topped mountain on which Debre Damo is located looming over the surrounding landscape. It still takes quite a long time before you actually cross a small river and start the final ascent from the foot of the mountain to reach the end of the road. From here, my heart started beating a little faster, as I was in anticipation of the vertical climb required to reach the monastery. When I reached the vertical wall and looked up, I realized this was steep, but the priest climbing up the rope before me gave me confidence and I wondered if I should give it a go without the secondary rope.
Debre Damo, lying on a flat-topped hill, can be seen from a distance

Fasil Ghebbi
Reminder and remainder of its grand history, the Fasil Ghebbi or Royal Enclosure of Gonder still is the heart of the city and defines modern Gonder.
Even though the Fasil Ghebbi or Royal Enclosure is surrounded by a low wall, it is hard to miss seeing the towers of the palaces inside upon entering Gonder. Something else to strike you, is the more relaxed and friendly atmosphere in this former capital of Ethiopia, as compared to other cities in these parts of Ethiopia like Bahir Dar or Axum. Since the light was outright bad when we arrived, we decided to wait until the last possible moment to buy our ticket and enter the royal compound. Stepping inside means stepping back in time, you leave modern-day Gonder behind and walk where royals were walking centuries ago.
Fasil Ghebbi: chancellery at dusk

Gobedra Lioness & Quarry
Within walking distance from Axum you can find a mysterious lioness etched in a rock; this is the area where the stelae of Axum were carved out.
Axum is one of the historically most important places in Ethiopia, and holds several major sights within the modern-day town. But within walking distance from Axum, you can visit several other interesting sites. Although a bicycle would have been a faster option, I decided to walk out of Axum, to the south, passing the ancient palace of the Queen of Sheba and the stelae field of Yodit. Continuing in a pleasant landscape of fields where peasants work the land, a small lake, all surrounded by hills, you will know when you come close to the ancient quarry: several youngsters offer themselves as guides.
Lioness of Gobedra etched in a rock near Axum

Bet Giyorgis Church
Probably the most perfect church of all churches in Lalibela, Bet Giyorgis is the only church that has been spared the scaffolding concealing other churches.
After visiting the other two groups of churches in Lalibela, it was time to visit the most impressive and famous one - Bet Giyorgis or Church of St. George. I had had a glimpse of the church from a distance before, when I almost by mistake saw the easily recognizable roof of the church. As I followed my guide in ancitipation, we first had a view of the church from above. From this vantage point, it was easy to see how construction of the church had been: the rock had been carved out, forming a deep and wide trench, after which the church had been carved out of the remaining rock.
Roof of Bet Giyorgis or St. George church: shaped as a Greek cross

Yeha
Although difficult to imagine nowadays, Yeha was once the most important city of the region of Tigray. What remains is the oldest standing building in Ethiopia.
When you enter the village of Yeha, with its stone houses and dusty roads set in a pretty valley in northern Ethiopia, it seems hard to believe that this was one of the major cities of the region. But then again, the heydays of Yeha lie more than 2000 years ago, and a lot has happened since. It predates the Axumite empire, when Yeha was the capital of the Damot empire. By the time Axum achieved its climax, Yeha had already declined in power, and has probably looked much the way it looks nowadays.
Ancient temple of Yeha: one wall of the temple
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/yeha.html

Debre Tsion church
After a nice climb up a rock, the church of Debre Tsion is located right at the edge of the cliff, with some marvellous frescoes inside the extensive church.
When our driver drove our Landcruiser right through a football field, we knew it could not be far. Indeed, after a few more minutes he parked the car under a tree, and it did not take much time for the car to be stormed, as the local youth had been advised of our arrival by the cloud of dust thrown into the air behind our car. After crossing a creek, we ascended to the top of this flat-topped mountain with ease. Quickly, our following grew bigger, and when we reached the top of the hill, we had more than twenty youngsters following us. From here, we had great views over the landscape of Gheralta, the church-studded area of Tigrai.
Priests in front of Debre Tsion church

Debre Birhan Selassie Church
One of the major sights of Ethiopia, Debre Birhan Selassie church lives up to your expectations as an extraordinarily beautiful church.
The walk to Debre Birhan Selassie church is easy and pleasant, going through suburbs of the former capital of Gonder. After buying your ticket outside the walls of the church, be sure to locate the priest; even here, the doors remain closed unless there are visitors. When the white-robed priest finally opens the doors on three sides of the church, a splendid spectacle opens before your eyes. As daylight reaches the walls and the ceiling, it makes your jaw drop. Bright coloured and well preserved scenes from the Bible on the walls, and the wooden ceiling completely covered by winged cherubic faces.
Angel in the ceiling of Debre Birhan Selassie church

Genata Maryam Medhane Alem
On the slopes of Mount Abuna Yosef, you can not only enjoy walks in nature, but also find some of the more remote churches of Lalibela.
Even though we had a clear arrangement before leaving, our driver suddenly started an argument when we got off the car in Genata Maryam, a small village at the foot of Mount Abuna Yosef. As often the case, it was about money; after we settled it, we could start out walk up. After crossing some very nice countryside with fields full of barley and beans, we reached the real climb up. Some of the ascent was quite steep; as soon as we reached the higher levels, the path followed the edge of the mountain. When we arrived at the other side of the mountain, we soon reached Mekina Medhane Alem. However, the door to the church was closed.
Fresco on the ceiling of Genata Maryam

Harar Street Scenes
Harar has many sights, but one of the main attractions is the people you meet on the streets, the scenes unfolding before your eyes, the fantastic light of the early morning.
While visiting Harar and seeing the many sights in this wonderful city, you will probably see even more interesting things happening right before your eyes on the streets. One of the major assets of Harar is its own people, who overall are friendly and cheerful people, welcoming the visitor to their ancient city. Although Harar has been a Muslem stronghold and forbidden city for a long time, it has acquired a fame of religious tolerance. Indeed, the city breathes a feeling of freedom and respect for people with different opinions.
Walking the streets of Harar in the early morning

Kuskuam
The palace complex at Kuskuam is not as impressive as those in the Royal Enclosure, but its isolation from the city has a charm all of its own.
Kuskuam is only a few kilometres out of Gondar, and while there are several other ways to reach it, I chose to take a bicycle in the city and use my own legpower to reach the top of the hill. The first kilometres are mostly slightly downhill, and I soon discovered that the brakes of the bike did not work very well. When I found the turn-off for Kuskuam, I was confronted with a steep road leading up Debre Tsehai, or Mountain of Sun, above which huge clouds were gathering. Struggling up on the bike, and trying to steer clear of the biggest stones on the road, kids were running after me. I was sweaty when I finally carried my bike inside the compound of Kuskuam church.
Remains of Kuskuam Palace

Lake Tana monasteries
Not only is Lake Tana the source of the Blue Nile, it is also home to a collection of monasteries, all located on the shore or on islands in the lake.
Lake Tana is famous mostly as the source of the Blue Nile and as the largest lake of Ethiopia and one of the highest large lakes in the world. At the same time, Lake Tana is also renowned for its monasteries which can be found directly on its shores, on peninsulas and on the many islands scattered all over the lake. It is pretty straightforward to arrange a visit to one or more monasteries from Bahir Dar. Lake Tana is not a clear mountain lake as you might expect, it rather has a muddy colour, at least during our visit after the rainy season.
Close-up of fighters, arrows and horses in Azuwa Maryam church

Axum
Once the most powerful city in the region, Axum nowadays is famous mainly for its stelae and is considered the most religious of Ethiopian cities.
Centres of fallen empires have a certain melancholy over them; sometimes, it is hard to imagine them in their heydays. After arriving at Axum, and walking the quiet streets of this town, it is not easy to imagine this was once the centre of power of the region, the capital of the Axumite empire, one of the great empires of the entire continent. The empire included most of what is now Eritrea, its port to the world was Adulis on the Red Sea, and it is still considered as the basis of current Ethiopia. The empire lasted from before Christ to the 7th century, after which it declined. At the time, it was one of the most advanced civilizations when it comes to technology and trade.
King Ezana stele: tallest, slightly tilting obelisk
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/axum.html

Abreha wa Atsbeha church
Richly decorated, Abreha and Atsbeha church in the Tigray region is considered to be one of its finest rock-hewn churches in this part of Ethiopia.
After having seen several of the famous churches in the Lalibela region and Lake Tana, visiting even more churches during our visit to the Tigray region could seem a little too much. But our curiosity won, and left Mekele in some nice company early in the morning. After a hearty breakfast at Wukro, it was not far to Abreha and Atsbeha church, founded by the two kings Abreha and Atsbeha. Shortly before, the road had led us into the Gheralta region, and before our eyes, a peculiar landscape, a plain lying between capricious rocks, unfolded. It looked like a worn-out canyon where the walls had disappeared at several places.
Emperor Yohannes and others depicted on mural in Abreha and Atsbeha church

Abuna Yemata Guh church
Both location and frescoes make Abuna Yemata Guh an outstanding church in the Gheralta region - reaching it is part of the appeal.
In several accounts, I had read that Abuna Yemata Guh was not easy to reach; I even read accounts of people who were not able to climb to the church at all. Since I have not done any rockclimbing in my life, I was therefore curious about the way up. When we arrived at the foot of the mountain, the priest was out, but he could easily be located on the market of nearby Megab. In the beginning, the old man climbed up as if gravity did not count for him - it was amazing to see him storm the mountain, serenely in his white robe and a stick on his shoulders. By this time, we were being followed by a procession of local boys, all trying to impose themselves as our guides. It did not take us long before we reached a wall above us. From here, we had to climb.
Nine apostles on fresco in cupola of Abuna Yemata Guh church

Lalibela Sunday Mass
On Sunday morning, Lalibela comes to life when hundreds of white-robed worshippers flock to the ancient rock-hewn churches like they have done for centuries.
According to the hotel staff, Saturday night would be a special occasion to visit the rock-hewn churches. Instead, I woke up early on Sunday morning and descended to the entrance of the northwestern cluster. While Lalibela had seemed quiet the previous days, there was a busy atmosphere around the entrance. People were selling candles, people were whispering to each other, and the delicate sound of the long white robes filled the air as worshippers flocked to the ancient group of churches. I descended to Bet Medhane Alem, but was not allowed to enter, unlike previous days. It would prove the best that could happen to me.
Priests during Sunday morning mass near the grave of Lalibela; worshippers follow them in prayers

Ethiopian buses
Although tiring, unreliable and slow, busrides in Ethiopia are never dull, and a good way to get to know the country behind the sights.
Ethiopia is a vast country, and any visitor wanting to visit several parts of the country needs to decide how to go around. As is often the case, the decision depends on the factors time, money, and purpose of visit. It is possible to visit Ethiopia in an efficient way, flying to all major highlights; it is also possible to opt for convenience and rent a car-with-driver. But to really experience the country, to get into touch with the people, the bus is a great alternative. It allows to enjoy the countryside, taste the atmosphere on the bus, share the ups and downs that are inevitably going to occur during the ride. It often starts with the fact that many people don't seem to know when the bus leaves, or, even worse, when people give different times (disregarding the eternal Ethiopian vs. international time debate: Ethiopian time is 6 hours behind international time, but you often don't know for sure which time is being used).
Luggage being offloaded from a bus in the middle of nowhere

Yemrehanna Kristos church
Hidden in a cave, Yemrehanna Kristos church is a lovely little building, while you can also explore the dark spaces in the cave and enjoy a beautiful waterfall right around the corner.
The last stretch of road up to Yemrehanna Kristos was not all easy: the road deteriorated as we got closer. After we left the car behind, we walked up a mountain that was completely covered by a lovely juniper forest. Soon after leaving the car, we were approached by a multitude of people who were either blind, or missing a limb, had a seriously swollen neck, or other handicaps. In front of the church, we found a small opening in the woods, and a lovely waterfall spraying down from a rocky edge lushly overgrown with bright green vegetation. Unfortunately, a protective wall has been built which completely obscures the church from sight.
Outside wall of Yemrehanna Kristos church

Simien Mountains
After centuries of erosion, the landscape of the Simien Mountains has developed into a truly spectacular, unique hikers paradise.
We were very excited when our car drove into Simien Mountains National Park. After travelling around Ethiopia on buses, we felt an urgent need to be in nature and to find some peace of mind. At Sankabar Camp, we disembarked, left our luggage, and started walking with our guide and scout. The guide was so bad at English that we sent him back to Sankabar. We soon reached the edge of the escarpment, from where we had a dizzying sight to the lower plains lying some 1,000 metres below us. This was the result of massive erosion over a long time; we continued walking right on the edge with spectacular views down below.
Gelada baboons grazing on the edge of the mountains near Chennek Camp

Lalibela Northern Cluster
Normally the start of a tour in Lalibela, the northern cluster of churches is the most extensive and has some very fine examples of rock hewn churches.
Originally constructed as a New Jerusalem after the capture by Muslims, names of several places in Lalibela still carry the name of places in the Holy Land after King Lalibela spent some time in Jerusalem. The world famous rock-hewn churches are divided in three groups, the northern and the southern cluster separated by a small stream called the Jordan river. After you buy or show your tickets at the entrance, you soon descend in the underworld of Lalibela. The churches have all been carved out of the rocky surface, and once you are down, you are in a totally different world, without any connection to the present. Just by going down, you step back centuries. Singing comes out of the church, so I walk around the outside of the church, awe-struck by the magnitude of the building. Centuries ago, King Lalibela and his helpers (angels, according to traditional legend) dug deep trenches in the rock here, and subsequently carved out this enormous church. Bet Methane Alem is also home to the Lalibela Cross.
Bet Medhane Alem seen from above

Lalibela priests
Not only do they perform services in their churches, the priests of Lalibela are also host to any visitor to their church.
The marvellous churches of Lalibela and surrounds are a wonder in themselves, spectacular and truly amazing. Every church has its own priest, and these are not only the ones taking care of the services in the church, but also have a role as a kind of museum keepers to visitors. They are invariably dressed in white, with a white cloth wrapped around their head, they are the guards of the treasures of their church, and above all, they are human.
Priest of Bilbilla Chirkos proudly showing a precious old goatskin book

Ethiopian kids
Youngsters everywhere in Ethiopia - this is a young nation and it shows on the streets. They can be delightful, but they can also be a nuisance for the traveller.
Children are curious worldwide, and Ethiopian kids are no exception. A prospective, especially non-African visitor to this old land knows beforehand that he will be the focus of attention for any Ethiopian, and even more for the youngsters of the country. Especially outside the capital Addis Ababa, foreigners are not very common, even less foreigners not travelling on a group tour. We knew this before we arrived in Ethiopia, and had had our share of attention in many other countries. Still, the crazy whirl of kids constantly following us almost everywhere throughout the country was surprising.
Young girl in Harar posing for a picture

Yirgalem
A great escape from it all, staying in the area around Yirgalem offers the opportunity to go for walks through the forest, meeting locals, and seeing wildlife.
After a long drive from Addis Ababa, on a surprisingly good road, we arrived in Yirgalem in time to get rid of our stuff, and go for a walk. Even in the lodge we were staying, we saw exotic birds with enormous white bills and the funny Abyssinian black-and-white colobus monkeys. When we were given canes, I expected a difficult hike on muddy paths, which could be expected in the rainy season. We soon reached a look-out point where we got a better idea of the area. Undulating hills completely covered by a thick vegetation of forest and grass gave the landscape a fresh, intensely green look.
Trees covered in early morning fog near Yirgalem

Awassa
There are several reasons to visit the area around Awassa: the fishmarket on the shore of the lake, and a boat ride on the lake itself which offers the opportunity to see wildlife.
When we arrived at the fishmarket, we were initially greeted by the marabou, a large stork so ugly it made us feel sorry for him. A huge tree was full of them, but they were also walking the ground on their high legs, as tall as a child, sometimes flying overhead with their remarkable shrieks - but we would find most near the fishermen. A small group of women was selling other stuff under a tree, and from here, we saw the place where the fishermen bring their catch. They were ordering their nets, some were cleaning their freshly caught fish, or feeding marabous and pelicans some of the leftovers.
Just after the catch: African fish eagle taking off Lake Awassa

Pictures from Gabon

Bitam to Libreville
Travelling overland in Gabon can be a little difficult, as we found out on our way from Cameroon to Libreville: unreliable operators, countless checkpoints with corrupt officials on bumpy roads, and overloaded minibuses.
The day before had been a long one: we had been on the road from 5am and arrived in the border town in the south of Cameroon at around 11pm. The next morning, finding a minivan to the market just at the border was easy enough, and after we got our exit stamps, we walked around the market, and then found a shared taxi that would take us to Bitam, the first town in Gabon. Instead of taking a pirogue across the river, a new bridge made the crossing a breeze - but on the other hand, there were 6 more checkpoints, three for each country (on the Gabonese side, our driver paid several police officers, instructed by the fat lady sitting next to me who probably was afraid her goods in the trunk would be checked); and even then, we did not have our entry stamp yet. Instead, we had to present a document we had received at the police in Bitam. A direct bus to Libreville was waiting ahead of us. But things were not that easy, of course. First, our driver did not give the correct change, claiming that the border crossing had taken "a lot of time". When he finally paid according to the deal we had made, the next obstacle was the police itself: they demanded we make a copy of our Gabonese visa first. Conveniently, there was a copy shop across the street, but there was a powercut that would last until late afternoon. Another shop made the copies, but asked a ridiculous amount of money (10 times the going price), so we walked around town and indeed, found a place asking the regular price of 50 francs. Getting the entry stamp now seemed a formality, but even then, by mistake the police put two stamps in my passport.
The interior road from Oyem to Libreville runs through various small villages

Cap Esterias
Close to Libreville, Cap Esterias is the northermost point of the peninsula on which Libreville lies, and has a beach and spread out village to escape the busy Gabonese capital.
What to do on a Saturday afternoon? The sky was overcast, and we preferred to leave the city. We opted for the northern point of the peninsula on which Libreville is located: Cap Esterias, which seemed quite easy to reach: a taxibus to past the airport, and from there, another minivan to the end of the road. Construction works meant that the going was slow, but we arrived, and were close to the cape itself, where we found a quaint tower-lighthouse. We walked the beach towards the east, followed by a cute dog, and to our surprise, found the beaches empty.
View of the beach of Cap Esterias

Libreville taxi drivers
They can drive you crazy at times, are often rude, and need some time to get used to - taking a taxi in Libreville can be frustrating, but in the end, miraculously, you do get where you want to go.
After arriving from a 9-hour ride on a crammed minivan from the north, we were finally in Libreville. Or, so it seemed. But buses drop you 8km out of the city, so you still have to find transportation to your final destination from there. We had asked the regular price to locals, and stood at the roadside. There were plenty of taxis, and we thought it would be a matter of saying our destination, and we would be off. But no - the system does not follow this logic. Instead, you have to shout your destination, the number of seats you need, and the price, as we gathered from the Africans around us who were off almost at once. We copied their approach, but even then, it did not seem to work. Drivers can have two reactions: either they just drive off, or they give an almost unnoticeable nod, or honk their horn, to let you know your offer is accepted. And they kept on driving off. We did not even know if the price was not OK for them, or if they were heading for a different destination. They never negotiate: it is only when they hit the pedal again that you realize you are left behind. With a white skin, you are left behind very often - most taxi drivers assume that whites just pay more than locals, and prefer to have empty seats in their taxi. I never really got this logic, and several times ended up walking instead (which, at certain hours of the day, turns out to be faster than sitting in a car anyway).
The question is: will the driver accept their offer?

Nyonié Wonga Wongué Reserve
One of the closest places close to Libreville to get into nature, Nyonié offers the chance to see elephants, buffaloes and other animals in great landscapes of forest and savannah.
You are spoilt with choices for nature destinations in Gabon, especially since the president decided that shrinking oil profits need to be offset by new sources of income and has declared around ten percent of the country as national parks. But not all destinations are easy to reach, and some are very pricey as they involve flights and boat rides. Moreover, we were tangled up in the hunt for a visa for Equatorial Guinea, which made us lose precious time. Fortunately, there is a place not too far from Libreville where we headed on one morning - a 2 hour boat transfer brings you to the end of an estuary, from where a 45 minute drive in a 4WD takes you across the equator on bumpy roads. Here, we found endless white sand beaches, and for once, had all the food arranged. But the biggest draw are the safari opportunities: there is a ride in the afternoon, and a walk in the early morning. It felt great to be on an open 4WD again, scanning the scenery for animals. We drove through dense forests for a while until we reached the first patch of savannah landscape, and quickly fell in love with the latter.
Forest elephants sometimes leave the forest to have a look on the savannah

Poubara waterfall
An hour drive down a surprisingly empty road takes you to the Poubara Falls, where you will also find a vine bridge, as well as hydroelectric works.
Early my first morning in Franceville, I started asking cab drivers at the roundabout in town if they wanted to take me to Poubara, but as was to be expected, they were asking too much. One nice guy said he could not take me, because he had been chartered to drive kids to school, but asked me to step inside. He asked several drivers himself, and found one for the price I was willing to pay. It turned out to be a great guy from Congo; we had good chats on the way down to Poubara. Much of the road was unsealed, and especially after we left the main road, the going got a little tough. A few cars driven by Chinese were going the other way; they were constructing a hydroelectric plant at the falls. I wondered if that would mean the end of the falls, as has already happened elsewhere, but the driver assured me that the falls will continue to exist. The scenery was worth the trip already - empty landscapes of rolling hills with bushes, until we entered a dense forest.
The wide waterfall of Poubara

Kessala elephant hike
Walking for hours through the jungle takes you to an open space on the river where, if you are lucky, you can find forest elephants taking a bath - from very close.
Organizing the visit to Ossele was easier than I expected, once I found the right person. We tracked down the specialized guide, who turned out to be a very talkative guy, and within two hours, I was on the way in a sedan car with food and water. Shortly after leaving Franceville, the road turned into a muddy affair, but the driver proved extremely skillful, steering us over a road that snaked over hills and through almost deserted villages with corrugated iron walls and roofs. The car slipped several times, but he knew his things, and never lost control. It also helped that he was not drunk, unlike several other drivers that had been steering a car in which I was travelling. We reached the tiny village of Ossele in a little over an hour, and put up a tent inside a house. A short walk took us to a small pool with refreshingly cool water, after which we had an early dinner, sat at the fire, and fell asleep before 8pm. The guide had told me to wake up at 4am, and start walking at 4.30. The driver had returned to Franceville, and I prayed that there would be no rain that night; otherwise, the road might well turn out to be too hard for a 2WD the next day - even for him.
Elephant emerging from the river, walking upstream

Léconi canyon
A little east of the town of Léconi, you can find a small, reddish, canyon trees on the Batéké Plateau, with enormous rockformations, and sweeping views all around.
When I arrived in Léconi in the afternoon in the bright sunlight, I called the guy who had been recommended in Franceville, to see if he could take me to the canyons in the region. This proved impossible: his car had broken down. The lady in the hotel I was staying at, promised to call someone, but I didn't hear from here, so I went walking around town myself. A visit to the canyons requires a 4WD, and I approached the first pick-up truck I saw driving around. The guy seemed friendly enough, and told me he could take me the next day. He stopped a friend who drove by in a 4WD, who offered to take me right away, but since there was lightning all around town, I decided it would be better to wait until the next day. They also told me that the track to the white canyon I wanted to visit, was in such a bad condition that they didn't want to go there; also, that the green canyon was of limited interest. Walking through the quiet town that has some remarkable buildings, like a cinema that is slowly deteriorating and not operational anymore, only because the projector has a broken lamp.
Panoramic view of the canyon with the lack on the far right

Pictures from Gambia

Abuko Nature Reserve
Just a short drive from the towns and cities in western Gambia, the Abuko Nature Reserve offers an unexpected dip into the jungle with an opportunity to see free and caged wildlife.
It sounded like a unique opportunity: visiting a national park in Africa by taking a local bus. Indeed, it was possible: I took a minivan from Serekunda towards Brikama, got off right at the entrance, where I paid my ticket and walked in. The trail led through a thick forest with some openings with water, where to my dismay I saw quite a lot of trash. I reached the small Darwin Field Centre at a small pool of water, and went up the stairs to see a small exhibition and to get a better view of the pool. After all, it is supposed to hold a fair amount of crocodiles. But even with the help of the friendly researcher, we could not spot any. There was too much water now, he explained: the crocs were out there, where no trail could take me.
View of the pool at the Darwin Field Centre

Jufureh Slave Museum
This small museum can be seen in half an hour, but the trip there, and back, is an adventure in itself that makes the trip more than worthwhile.
Since I knew that visiting the slave museum of Jufureh, and James Island, is best done by taking an organized tour from Banjul, I asked around on the day of my arrival, to discover that the boat had left early that morning, and the next one would leave after my departure. I had to do it alone, and after an early start, getting to the ferry at Banjul turned out to be easier than I had thought. I bought a ticket for the ferry for only 15 dalasi, and it was only when I arrived at a closed gate that I realized things might not be going so smooth after all. There was a ferry; cars were getting off, but I did not see any vehicle getting on the boat. After a while, I went back to the ticket counter, and asked if there was a specific time the ferry was supposed to leave. The lady looked at me with surprised eyes. Timetable? No, she had no clue when the ferry would leave. I waited a little longer, and when I spotted a foreigner on the other side, asked him about it. A smile appeared on his face; the ferry had a technical problem and would not sail today. But I could wait for the other ferry to arrive; he guessed it might take hours before it would leave. Behind me, people were patiently waiting, and I wondered if they knew. After all, no one had informed us. At the same time, perhaps no one cared. They would just take things as they happened. Or not.
Drawing showing the most efficient way to transport slaves from Africa to the New World

Katchikally Sacred Crocodile Pool
The tamest crocs I have ever seen can be found (and touched) in and around this curious pool that has a function for couples with fertility issues as well.
After not seeing any crocodiles in the Abuko Reserve, and with a day to spare, I decided to go to the Katchikally crocodile pool which was a mere ten minutes from where I was staying. After my adventure of visiting the slave museum in Jufureh the day before, I did not feel like another day with all kinds of tricky connections and buses that did not show up. I expected a crocodile farm the kind I had seen before, and when the taxi stopped driving in a sandy street of the Katchikally neighbourhood, I felt a good vibe in the air, and decided to explore the streets more after seeing the crocs. An artsy entrée gives way to the gardens, and to my shock, I saw an adult crocodile lying on the ground - well camouflaged. I continued walking, and saw two smaller crocs playing; when I tried to follow them, I got a remark by some guys sitting at a small pool that I should not get too close: the mother was around.
Resting crocodile seen from close-up

Pictures from Ghana

Kumasi
The Asante are a proud tribe in Ghana, Africa. They have their own king, flag and history. Kumasi is their capital.
Of the many African tribes, one of the most outstanding are the Asante in Ghana. The Asante call themselves a state within a state, since they have their own king, flag, culture and language. Actually some tribes which used to be adversaries of the Asante people now share the same Ghanaian nationality. The capital of the Asante is Kumasi, and it is about Kumasi that I will tell a little more. As a first destination I chose the National Cultural Centre which contains a lot of interesting spots, like a model village, handicraft centres, a library and a museum. My interest was primarily drawn by the Museum.
Manhyia Palace Museum in Kumasi

Ghana Market
Share some impressions and pictures of a typical African market. It is here that African life revolves around.
West Africa is notorious for its lively and colourful markets and Ghana certainly has some of the best to offer. African life revolves around markets. For a true picture of a country, the market is the place to go. Everything is for sale. Although the markets usually are chaotic and crowded, the wares are generally piled up in an orderly fashion. All in all, the market is a particularly interesting place to visit. It is not only an economic place, but also very much a social gathering.
Tomato seller on African market

Elmina slave castle
From outside, this fortress on the seaside has a nice look, but once inside, the guide tells you about its history, and makes you look at the slave castle with different eyes and feelings.
While staying a few months in Lomé, Togo, I made a sidetrip to Ghana for 4 days. By far the most impressive sight during this visit was for sure the Elmina slave fortress, not in the least because it is a reminder of the shameful presence of my fellow Dutchmen there in history. Although built by the Portugues, it was under Dutch supervisors that Elmina gained importance as a slave shipping centre.
Elmina fortress

Avatime hills
After crossing the bridge over the Volta river, hills rise up in the east, which grow into mountains, and offer ample opportunities to hike, see waterfalls, enjoy views from the mountaintops, and have a relaxing stay.
When we have finally managed to arrange transportation, it takes us a couple of hours to drive from Accra to the Volta river. Continuing north, the road deteriorates, but we see baboons walking on the road as compensation. It is sunny, and pretty warm in the car. Hills on our right hand side, in the east, grow into a mountain range: the Avatime hills. When we take a turn, to head south into the valley between the mountains, the first rain drops start to fall. We decide to first arrange accommodation, find a great place right on top of a mountain ridge, which has splendid views of the mountains and the valley below. When we get out, torrential rain is hammering on the tin roof, and we take a light lunch. Whenever we want to talk, we need to shout: the noise the rain is making is overwhelming. At the end of the afternoon, we make a small walking tour, our eyes glued to the mountains which are re-appearing from the clouds, patches of fog swirling around the base of the green carpet-covered flanks of the mountains. We discover a small opening in the forest, atop a hill; when asked, the locals tell us this is a church. It turns out that these hills are often used for prayer, as they are considered closer to God.
Avatime hills with its feet and forest covered in clouds

Independence Square
Independence Square is a vast area in Accra where massive celebrations can be held. On any day, this is the heart not only of Ghanaian, but also of African independence.
While in the taxi to Independence Square, I was still watching the big National Stadium when I noticed we were getting to a stop. In fact, we had arrived at Independence Square, conveniently located next to the biggest stadium of the country. It was easy to recognize: the Independence Arch, countless Ghanaian flags waving in the welcome breeze, and a massive open space behind a monument. I paid the driver and got off.
Independence Monument seen from below

Kwame Nkrumah Mausoleum
Ghana's Father of the Fatherland, Kwame Nkrumah, has a last resting place in style: a Mausoleum in a friendly park right in Accra, the capital of the country that achieved independence under his guidance.
While walking past the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park, it seemed strange that the most obvious entrance was closed with a fence, where it was also forbidden to take pictures. This is probably an entrance normally only used for special occasions. The visitor entrance is around the corner. After buying your ticket, I had a stroll in the pleasant gardens with old and newly planted trees from dignitaries of other countries. When I reached the central area of the park, it turned out that the fountains were all silent. I could see the many statues of music players, and could only imagine what it would look like with fountains of water.
Monumental mausoleum of Kwame Nkrumah

Timber market
A few alleys with a wide variety of items for sale are tucked away in near Ussher Town in Accra. Timber market makes for a very interesting visit.
When I got off the taxi near the railway station of Accra, the hustle and bustle of the streets felt familiar to me. With enormous Makola market nearby and spilling into the streets, walking in this area means being careful, almost slaloming between one street vendor, people on a shopping spree, and the next stall. Today, I did not want to stay in this area, because I was heading for Timber market. I had to ask for directions to get there. Even when I was close, the entrance was much less obvious than that of other markets; fortunately, a few guys pointed me the right way through a narrow alley.
Traditional musical instruments

Lake Volta Cruise
A perfect day trip from Accra, the cruise on Lake Volta includes not just navigating the largest artificial lake of the world, but also dancing to the irresistible rhythms of an African band on the boat.
It was raining lightly early that morning in Accra, and we were not sure whether to pursue our plan to visit the Akosombo Dam that day. While negotiating a price with taxi drivers, we were still doubting, which made our negotiating position stronger. The first driver seemed ok, but we could not agree on a price. We ended up leaving with one who had never been there, and we knew that could imply some practical problems later on. Still, we were on our way, and the decision to go had somehow been taken. An easy drive of an hour and a half took us to Akosombo, a village near the dam of the same name. At the gate of the dam, we learned that visiting the dam was only possible with a permit, and that a cruise on the lake would depart in half an hour. A short drive took us to the small Akosombo port where the Dodi Princess was still docked. Shortly after entering the boat, we were on our way on Lake Volta.
Pier at Dodi island

Cape Coast castle
Visiting Cape Coast castle is unlikely to keep you untouched; for many, it is a confronting and harrowing experience - not for its appealing exterior, but for the stories told by the guide.
That morning, I was very lucky: when my taxi pulled up to the bus station of Accra, the bus (one of the four daily buses leaving for the west) was waiting and indeed, after buying a ticket, left immediately. While the road was in very good condition, traffic caused us to still take more than three hours and a half to reach Cape Coast. A taxi took me from the small bus station to my destination of the day: Cape Coast castle. After making a small donation to a group of local football players, I first walked to the beach on the east of the castle, behind a small market. Here, strong Ghanaian men were busy taking fishing boats ashore under a rhythmic chant, while women were walking past with buckets full of freshly caught fish and kids were playing on the fine sand. I walked the beach back towards the castle, watched the colourful and exciting scenes before walking around a corner. There, right on the rocks on which Cape Coast castle was built, I had a good view of the white fortification with cannons pointing at the sea. Powerful waves broke on the rocks, but the castle seemed to stand strong against the elements.
Wall with cannons seen from below

Ada Foah
A few hours east of Accra, the coastal town of Ada Foah lies right where river Volta meets the Gulf of Guinea. While the town is attractive enought to explore, exploring the islands in the river makes your trip complete.
After arriving at Tudu bus station in the morning, I made my way through the street vendors, and the many vans and taxis going in all directions. Since the station and vans were lacking clear signs, I asked around until I found the stand of the trotro to my destination of the day, Ada Foah. I was lucky: I was the last passenger to buy a ticket, which even happened to be a front seat. Even sitting in the van for a few minutes made me sweat pretty badly, and I was happy when the driver showed up and pulled out of the station, bringing some natural ventilation. We quickly reached Tema using the highway, and even after that, continued with a decent speed towards the east. It still took more than two hours to reach the muddy and quiet bus station of Ada Foah. From here, I charted a motorcycle and a friendly guy drove me to the Presbyterian church, offering me to buy a piece of land when we arrived. I politely refused, and walked around the famous church and its cemetery, with tombs of Europeans from colonial times, but also more recent ones. Most of the graves were overgrown with vegetation, and one of the goats roaming the area cheekily jumped on a slab of marble and watched the world from there, as if he pretended to be the boss of the lot. Next, I wanted to see the old Kongenstein fortress, which according to the sparse information I got, should be situated right on the beach, threatened by the advancing sea. From the church, the beach was at a stones throw distance; but when I walked the sandy shore of Ada Foah, I could not see any fortress in either direction. A little puzzled, and with no one to ask, I returned to the main road, where I saw someone approaching, and decided to ask.
Launches and palm trees are a typical sight in the Volta river delta

Shai Hills
Just northeast of the Ghanaian capital, you can find Shai Hills with possibilities of game drives and climbing up rocky hills that have cultural and historical significance.
When I heard of Shai Hills, I realized I had never heard of it before. A friend in Accra told me that it was not far from the city, and he would gladly take me. Indeed, the drive doesn't take long, and after registering at the entrance, a local guide joins us. By then, we have already seen several small monkeys. We drive for a couple of minutes, and spot a herd of zebra and a few ostriches. We get out to have a better look at them, while our guide tells us that these have been imported for South Africa. After all, there is very little wildlife left in West Africa. We now drive up to a visitor centre, which has a small museum, with skulls, skins and bones of animals like elephant, hippo, lion, gazelle and many more - from the days that animals actually did roam these parts of the continent.
View from Mogo Hill: looking out over the savannah with more hills in the background

Pictures from Guinea-Bissau

Bissau Velho
The old part of the capital of Guinea Bissau, Bissau Velho has some typical colonial-style Portuguese houses, and an old fortress that is heavily guarded.
Directly after leaving my luggage behind at the hotel in the outskirts of the city, I took a taxi to the old part of town. The young, honest driver dropped me off at a small square, and I found myself standing under a large tree. I had just arrived in the country, heard mixed stories about the capital, and wanted to test the waters. Several people were cleaning the street, and a few guys were chatting under one of the other big trees. I walked towards the walls of the old fortress, and before I even took my camera out of my bag, an official in the distance made a gesture not to be misunderstood: taking pictures was not allowed here. It did not help to feel me more relaxed, and I decided to take a walk around the block. The small neighbourhood at the foot of the fortress is the old part of town, and has some great looking old Portuguese houses. Some have had a fresh layer of paint, but most are in an advanced state of decay.
One of the many old buildings in the old part of Bissau

Bubaque Island
One of the easiest visited islands of the Bijagos archipelago, you discover the charms of Bubaque island and its inhabitants step by step, until it becomes hard to leave.
There is one official boat every week to Bubaque, and I had planned my visit to the country accordingly. The timing of the departure is according to the tides, and there was some confusion, but the most likely time seemed to be 9am. So it was another traveller and I were kindly taken to the port by the owner of our hotel in Bissau. An old rusty ferry was docked, and there was quite some activity around it. Good signs, so we lined up to buy a ticket. This turned out to be a straightforward process as well. In fact, the only thing that bothers me a little bit, was the weather. After the heavy lightning the evening and night before, the sky was full of clouds, and with some wind coming from the sea, the air felt quite cool on our skin. Even though it was a ferry boat, the port did not provide for it to dock in a way that the ramp of the vessel could be used. Instead, we had to board the ferry over a wobbly wooden planks, held by two strong men. Getting down high steps took us aboard the ship that once plied the Mediterranean waters of Greece. We found a good spot on the upper deck; we had not paid for the VIP lounge which turned out to be a closed, air-conditioned room. We left around 9.30, and it felt great to be on the sea again. Strangely enough, the boat did not carry much cargo. The weather seemed to clear, and soon, we passed the first islands of the Bijagós archipelago. A rather large group of islands of various sizes off the coast of Guinea Bissau, the Bijagós are a main destination for any visitor to the country. The islands are all covered with jungle, are low, and have stretches of beaches that looked beautiful from a distance. When the sun was finally out, and we were sailing the quiet sea, I felt like the trip could last forever. But when we got closer to Bubaque, the sky to the east turned dark grey, and then black. The sun disappeared again, and the clouds were moving towards us. We could see a wall of rain below the clouds. The only question was: when would that wall hit our boat - which suddenly seemed very small? Stupidly enough, we stayed on the deck, and when the rain hit, it hit hard. We could already discern the contours of Bubaque, but now, the only concern was not to get too wet, and cold - and to try to protect our bags and cameras. We huddled under a leaking canvas, while the rain was being blown diagonally across the deck. When we finally reached the island, streams of red earth were flowing down into the sea.
The white sands of Bruce beach on Bubaque island

Varela
Part of the fun of a visit to Varela is getting there; once you do, the surrounding area offers a deserted beach and some great countryside landscapes to explore.
Just to be sure, I had called ahead to see if I would find a place to stay in Varela; and if I would find transportation. It proved to be difficult to find a taxi to the bus station, and when I arrived, the minivan to Sao Domingos was leaving. The second one filled up faster than I thought, and within an hour we were on our way. Getting to Sao Domingos was straightforward and fast, but I was a little worried, as I had understood that there would only be a bus in the morning. When I finally arrived at the dusty open area which is the bus station of Sao Domingos, the bus to Varela was there. I bought a ticket, and the cheerful guy of the counter said that I was number 5. Judging from the size of the bus, it would need many more passengers than that, and I went for a walk through the market, and had my bag repaired in a small shop. When I came back to the bus, nothing was happening, and I sat down in the shade, eating and drinking something. Asked the guy again, but no more passengers had showed up. I asked him if he was sure the bus would leave at all, and no, he was not sure about that. I started to worry a little bit. The 54 kilometres were too far to walk, and I imagined there would hardly be any traffic. Just then, a 4WD showed up, which turned out to be heading to Varela. The driver was a little vague when I asked him if he could give me a ride. A little later, as I walked the open field, someone called "Amigo" after me, and it was the same driver again. He explained he did not want to steal passengers from the bus, because they were his friends, and told me to walk to the main road where he would pick me up. Indeed, within a few minutes, the Toyota showed up, and I sat in the back next to a pile of cartons of beer and softdrinks. The driver turned out to be Ukrainian, and a friendly guy; he apologized he first had to deal with some things in town before heading to Varela. He paid some money here and there, and when he was chatting to a police guy while drinking a can of beer, that did not seem strange at all to the officer.
Waves on the beach of Varela at the end of the day

Pictures from Ivory Coast

Jacqueville
While on the hunt for colonial buildings, the backstreets, beach and inside lake of Jacqueville turned out to be the only sights we could discover: the colonial buildings were nowhere to be found.
After dumping our bags in a basic hotel a little outside the main drag of Jacqueville, we follow the directions in our travel guide to what supposedly is the area where we can find historic buildings. When we reach the beach, we turn towards the west. Big waves unleash their power on the golden beach, causing wild white water in the surf, and a permanent spray of salt in the air. Even from the top of the beach, we can imagine a strong, treacherous current in that constantly moving water, and indeed: many people die on the coast here, underestimating the force of the ocean. Ghanaian fishermen have their colourful boats lying on the sand, kids playing around them. We walk the beach further west, through the fine mist of salty air, until we realize that those colonial buildings cannot be here.
Waves on the beach of Jacqueville

Azagny National Park
Hiking the jungle and open lands of Azagny National Park is fun, and even when those large mammals present in this area do not show up, a visit will bring you closer to the intricate coastal landscapes of Ivory Coast.
The irony, and perhaps tragedy, of Ivory Coast is that its name implies a huge presence of elephants, while in reality there are very few tuskers left in this West African country. In fact, it is nowadays used as a port where ivory harvested in Central Africa is being smuggled out of the continent. Supposedly, one of the few areas in the country where we could spot the forest elephant, should have been in Azagny National Park. So, when we arrive in Grand Lahou, we directly contact a local guide involved with the park, and the next morning, we are up before sunrise for a short ride to the Bandama river where a motorboat takes us across the river to the park. A dilapidated sign confirms that we have just entered Azagny park, a speck of protected rainforest wedged between the Gulf of Guinea to the south, the Bandama river to the west, and the Ebrié Lagoon to the east.
Open space in Azagny National Park

Sassandra
A town oozing history from its colonial buildings overgrown by trees, a melancholic feel as a former pearl on the coast, yet vibrant because of hundreds of fishing boats, and a mysterious sacred forest right on the beach.
When we get past the noise of the town, the market stalls which extend right up to the river front, we reach the wide and sloping beach, which stretches out in a semi-circle to a headland. We walk past the monument for the Dumana crew, British sailors who perished when their boat was hit by a German torpedo in 1943, and see the contours of several colonial buildings through a curtain of roots and leaves, until we walk the last stretch of the beach where we find a group of youngsters jumping a rope, to the lane that once led up to the house of the governor of Bas-Sassandra. This town once was the major port in West Ivory Coast, until San Pedro took that role in 1960 and eclipsed Sassandra. What remains are buildings of importance, or rather, the ruins of those buildings. After independence in 1960, the country was looking ahead, making a fresh start, and preserving relics from the colonial past were not part of that scheme. We see a once posh hotel, whose swimming pool is now covered by floating reed, and tennis courts with holes in the floor.
Sacred forest rising above the beach of Sassandra

Pont Weygand
Less than an hour north of the town of Sassandra, Pont Weygand is a remarkable bridge spanning the Sassandra river, built during the Second World War, with great views of the attractive countryside with rocks and trees.
After the inevitable negotiations with a driver of a normal car in Sassandra instead of the much more costly driver in his 4WD, we are heading north from the coastal town. The car turns out to have been imported from our home country in Europe: it is a little weird to imagine that after a life of driving on smooth asphalted roads it is now serving these potholed, strips of asphalt and bumping up and down untarred tracks in the jungle. We pass through a small village which has market day today, and a little further north, the driver parks the car on the side of the track, and we walk towards the arched part of Pont Weygand. An arched bridge built during the Second World War (or, according to some sources, before that), it is considered the first concrete bridge in Africa.
The bend in Pont Weygand is easily visible from the east side of the bridge

Cascades de Man
The waterfall near Man lies hidden in the forest, and a nice walk from town; when officially closed, it becomes more fun to reach these cascades and the small leisure park at their feet.
After arriving in darkness the evening before, we are curious to see Man and its surroundings. It is a sunny day when we walk towards the west, leaving the town behind us. Towards the north, we see the needle of the Dent de Man sticking out of the landscape, and other, less spectacular mountains, all covered in a thick green carpet. After crossing the ring road that runs around Man, we are walking on an unpaved road. We pass trees brimming with mangoes, and women who sell the irresistible fruit on wooden tables at the roadside. The views of the landscape only become better. Then, one kid tells us that the cascades are closed, and another Ivorian tells us the same. We decide to continue walking anyway - the scenery is worth it. When we reach the official entrance of the waterfall, it is clear that, indeed, it is closed. Moreover, there is no way around it: a wall separates us from the pathway that leads to the waterfall.
Cascade de Man

Gboni stilt dancing
Exhilarating, electrifying, infectious: watching stilt dancing is a unique experience: an entire village puts a lot of energy in a show of colours, of beauty, of tradition, of rhythm, of diligence and dedication.
After a bumpy ride on tracks through the savannahs of northern Ivory Coast, where we visit several small, traditional villages with circular adobe huts, we arrive at Gboni. After passing a new-looking school building that contrasts sharply with the traditional mud huts, we park our car next to a row of others. Even though we were ahead of them, they passed us on our visit to a previous village. It is strange that we see not one person here. Soon, we understand why: when we arrive in an open space between the huts, a kind of village square, it is full of people. On one side: a row of women, all dressed in white. Three men play a rhythmic sound on their drums. A little further: a row of old men. In between: kids running around, some with white stripes painted on their faces. A row of young men walking around in circles, their upper bodies uncovered, with sets of white stripes painted on them.
Stilt dancer watching others perform in Gboni

Dent de Man
After having seen it from a distance for several consecutive days, we could not wait to climb the pinnacle just north of Man, and were excited to enjoy the sweeping views from the top.
During our days in Man, the granite pinnacle rising spectacularly out of the surrounding landscape was almost always visible: it is within walking distance from town. When we open the curtains on the day of our climb, the sun is just starting to rise from the horizon, and it promises to be a beautiful day. We see the peak rising sharply from the otherwise undulating landscape, and while we could have walked from Man, we take a taxi, that has trouble negotiating the last stretch on an ungodly bad road. We have enough water with us (at least, we hope so), and things to eat, and after paying our dues to a local chief, we are on our way. We first tackle a medium-steep climb that takes us to a ridge, from where we can see the Dent de Man to our left. Our guide explains that the trail makes its way around the peak, and that the actual climb will start from its base at the other side. The walk is easy and we frequently stop to take in the views over the surrounding landscape, full of plantations: banana trees, pineapples, maize, yam, and others, with dots of mango trees and boulders in between. Sometimes, a farmer passes us: invariably with a rifle, for the opportunity to shoot small deer on the way.
La Dent de Man rising high above the landscape

Djiroutou Taï National Park
Apart from the wildlife and the extensive primary rainforest, the main attraction of Taï National Park are the chimpanzees which can be seen up close, in an amazing show of power, noise, agility, and also inventiveness and tenderness.
A bumpy road takes us from Guiglo to Taï, passing several settlements cut out in the dense forest. After spending a night at the nuns in this pleasant town close to the border with Liberia, we arrange a motorbike to take us to Djiroutou in the south of the park. It gives us a first impression of the park that was established a World Heritage Site back in 1982 because of its extensive flora and fauna. Most of the rainforest of Ivory Coast and its bordering countries is gone, cut down and replaced by plantations for cacao, fruit and other food products. Taï National Park in the far west, is one of the last pockets of primary rainforest, and is home to five endangered species. Fortunately, we have found a capable rider, and he steers his motorbike through deep ruts in the unpaved road, through pools of water, muddy sections, over steep hills and through small villages. The road we ride on is a red ribbon meandering through a luminescent green carpet, and by the time we arrive at the end of the scenic road, we are already happy with the views we have seen on the way. Shortly before, on a particularly steep section of the track, the driver tried to accelerate, thus catapulting his bike upwards, sending us backwards on the road. Fortunately, we come away with only scratches.
Chimpanzee feeding on one of the fruits of the rainforest

Korhogo
Pleasant city in northern Ivory Coast, Korhogo has wide streets, workshops where special handicrafts are produced, while the city is dominated by Mount Korhogo to the southwest, and has sacrificial sites in the neighbourhood.
Arriving in Korhogo from Abidjan at first felt like arriving in an oasis of tranquillity. When I walk out of the bus station, women are sitting on the side of the road, with boxes full of huge orange mangoes on top. I will learn later that mangoes from the Korhogo region are considered the best of the country. After installing myself in a quiet guesthouse some ten minute walk from the city centre, I walk back to town, and walk the main street until I am next to the big mosque. Mont Korhogo looms over the city and is just behind the minarets. It is getting dark and time to walk back; I pick up a bunch of mangoes on the way. After visiting Niofouin the next morning, we take a turn off the main road to Odienné on our way back to Korhogo, driving on a sand path through cashew plantations. We arrive at the foot of Mont Sienlow, with a big open field with interspersed rocks and another rocky hill on the other side. Chicken feathers are flying around everywhere here, and I see thousands stuck between the plants on the farmland.
The sacrificial site of Mont Sienlow with boulders and tree

Niofoin
The town of Niofoin is probably among the more interesting of Ivory Coast, and offers an opportunity to learn more about the animist culture of sacrifice, while admiring the peculiar architecture of the huts and special houses.
The drive on the back of the motorbike from Korhogo turns out to be easy, despite the fact that there are several checkpoints and our rider is actually stopped a couple of times, but somehow always manages to talk his way out of it. We are happy to leave the tarred road behind: the rider has to slow down, and we finally feel we are on the way to something special. After parking his bike next to one of the huts in the old, traditional part of Niofoin, our guide starts explaining how people live in this village. He shows us the container huts, adobe constructions where crops are stored after harvest, so small that kids are sent up to make sure as much as possible of the harvest fits inside. Apparently, the container huts can store the harvest to last for a year, until the next harvest is done.
The traditional village of Niofoin with container huts and huts for living

Kong mosque
The jewel of the former trade town of Kong, its centuries-old mosque is especially beautiful at the end of the day, when the earth colours turn orange-red: a testimony to the former importance of this sleepy town.
Even before our bus comes to a stop, we already see the spiky towers of the famous mosque of Kong, the main reason why we have made it here. For a short while, we consider taking our bags and walk directly to the star attraction of this town, but then decide it is better to leave our bags at a hotel first. This turns out to be a good decision, as the only hotel of Kong turns out to be a little out of town; moreover, there is no taxi or moto-taxi system here. When we take a sandy road off the main road to reach the mosque, a very dark-skinned, fatty man lying on a bench under a tree barks at us that we should pay him an entrance fee if we want to visit the mosque. The old building stands on an open space with several entrances, and this man in his white shirt does not seem to be the caretaker anyway, so we ignore him and walk on.
The walls of the mosque of Kong seen from below

Bondoukou
Located in the far east of Ivory Coast, at the crossroads of cultures and as such one of the oldest towns of the country, Bondoukou is also dubbed the city of a thousand mosques, and has other historic buildings as well.
Getting to Bondoukou turned out to be more difficult than imagined, after we were misinformed in Kong, and ended up on a faulty bus to Bouaké that had so many problems and such a lousy driver that we decided to get off in Katiola after the fall of night. An early rise allowed me to catch the first bus from Bouaké towards the east, finding a road that was pretty good, and I made it to what almost is a border town in the far east of Ivory Coast: Bondoukou, before it was dark again. I was dropped at a gas station, and saw the Koudouss mosque right across the street: one of the many mosques of this city that is dubbed the town of a thousand mosques. I installed myself, contacted the director of tourism, and turned in early after two long days of traveling, allowing an early rise the next morning.
The green and white minarets of Koudouss mosque

Sorobango mosque
Oldest existing mosque in the region, the Sorobango mosque is a small jewel with wooden beams sticking out of the tapering adobe walls, dark prayer cells covered with carpets, and a container with sacred water.
The main reason for me to travel to Bondoukou was to visit the famous mosque of Sorobango, some 20k north of town. Getting there turned out to be part of the adventure, as can be expected in Africa. The director of tourism hooked me up with the director of the tiny museum, and he was waiting for me when I entered their office, with a hat and brimmed glasses. It took him the better part of an hour to find a motorbike. Soon after we leave, I feel he does not have the driving skills most bike riders have here. He does not slow down in time, misses some of the ruts in the unpaved road, slips, and sometimes sends us flying into the air because he misjudges one of the many bumps on the road - one important detail is that he is wearing a helmet, and I am not. I remind him of this, but it does not make him slow down much, instead saying that I can trust his driving. When we arrive in Sorobango, he shows me that one of his brakes is not working at all.
Crenellated walls and triangular tower at the rooftop of Sorobango mosque

Grand Bassam
Former capital of Ivory Coast, Grand Bassam is the most atmospheric and imposing old town of the entire country, with a multitude of colonial buildings, and at a special setting between lagoon and ocean.
The temptation to visit Grand Bassam right at the beginning of the journey through Ivory Coast had been great, but leaving it for last turned out to be a good thing. After leaving my stuff in a seaside hotel, I walked the sandy road running parallel to the beach, first towards the west, then east. It is a string of restaurants and hotels and, near the intersection with the road leading to the bridge and mainland Ivory Coast, with street vendors and artist trying to sell their wares like nowhere else before in the country. A different feel, certainly. But when I leave the tourist traps behind, I enter the true colonial area of Grand Bassam, also known as the Quartier Francais, or French neighbourhood. After the capital was shifted to Bingerville in 1896, Grand Bassam declined, until only squatters lived in the grand buildings until the former capital was revived in the 1970s. Still, by far most people live across the Lagune Ebrié, and the streets in this old part of town are virtually empty. My first goal is to see the Maison Ganamet in the northeast of town. Like almost all colonial buildings, it is in ruins, parts of the walls gone, and trees growing through the open windows with roots clinging to the walls that must have been white, once upon a time.
Entrance of the former Palace of the Governor

Pictures from Kenya

Nairobi Elephant orphanage
Until I saw baby elephants in an elephant asylum in Nairobi, I never realized that these animals could be so cute and cuddly instead of clumsy enormous mammals.
Although Kenya is mainly known for it's safari wildparks, I have actually never done a safari in this country. When I heard about the possibility to go to an elephant orphanage, I decided this was a good opportunity to at least see some wildlife. And it was a decision I definitely did not regret!
Young elephants in orphanage in Nairobi

Mombasa old town
Wandering the streets of the old town of Mombasa serves to underline both its multi-cultural character as well as its long history, and offers views of people living their lives among old stone mosques, wooden balconies, and Omani doors.
After visiting Fort Jesus, the landmark historic structure of Mombasa, it is time to explore the old town of this second largest city of Kenya. Mere metres from the impressive walls of the fort, I see old doors in a wall heavily affected by the tropical humidity, roots growing into its doorframe, but with the carved beauty of it still visible. Men sit on the sidewalk, talking in their phones. I continue walking down Mbarak Hinawy Road, with remarkable old buildings on both sides. Wooden balconies, heavily carved doors, one of the oldest hotels, and the early 16th century mosque with its tapering minaret: there are plenty of reasons to walk slowly and admire these beauties. There are souvenir shops here, too: this part of the old town looks polished, and probably is on the itinerary for cursory cruise-ship passengers
Rickshaw parked at a prominent building on Government Square in the old town of Mombasa

Fort Jesus
For centuries, it was defending the island of Mombasa against invaders, it was possessed by the Portuguese, Omanis, and British, and eventually turned into a prime attraction: late 16th century Fort Jesus.
My boda boda driver stops in a shady spot, next to a cart full of coconuts, but I resist the temptation. After I pay the driver, I walk to the old walls, once dark yellow but now mostly blackened, up the curved entrance way and enter through an arched gate with a Portuguese inscription above it. I am in Fort Jesus, built at the very end of the 16th century and designed by an Italian architect. When I reach the rectangular courtyard, I see several wooden doors with carved ornaments: Omani doors, which I will see more often in this fort (and indeed, in the old town, too). Fort Jesus was the first fort built by a European power on the Indian Ocean, and it was attacked, conquered, modified by the locals, the Omanis, and eventually, the British over the centuries. It was used as a prison until just before Kenya reached independence, turned into a national park, and recognized as a World Heritage site in 2011.
Ruins of barracks with the eastern wall of Fort Jesus

Karen Blixen house
Close to Nairobi, you can visit the house where Danish author Karen Blixen once lived, and Out of Africa filmed.
It was all very simple. I hopped on a local bus with "Karen" as its destination, talked to the person sitting next to me about the situation in Kenya, and got off the bus after less than an hour. Most of the time, we had actually spent in traffic jams; the distance from Nairobi to Karen is only about 10 km. The ticket seller on the bus advised me when to get off, right at historic Swedo house, built by Swedes in the early 20th century. First, I walked in the neighbourhood, and then went to the house where Karen Blixen stayed from 1914 to 1931. Built in 1912 by a Swedish engineer, the house was bought by Karen Blixen and her husband Baron von Blixen-Finecke. The house was later purchased by the Danish government and given as an independence gift to the Kenyan government in 1964. It was used in the movie "Out of Africa" and turned into a museum shortly after its release in the mid-1980s.
Karen Blixen house: frontal view

Nairobi National Park
You can do a real safari just kilometres away from the city centre of Nairobi: Nairobi National Park has a surprising number of animals, including those that are rarely seen in other parks.
After picking up the girlfriend of the guy with whom I am about to go on a half-day safari, we get stuck in a traffic jam. The closest we come to seeing wildlife is the drawing of an elephant on a schoolbus. Then, we make a left, arrive at one of the gates of Nairobi National Park, where our driver opens the rooftop, and our safari starts. It does not take long before we see our first bucks, impala, ostrich, zebra, and other animals. There is not much high vegetation, and spotting animals is pretty easy here. The number of animals is surprising; especially given our proximity to the city. When we look north, we can see the skyline of Nairobi as a backdrop to our safari adventure. Between these animals and the city, there is an electric fence to prevent them from roaming the streets. On the other side, the boundaries of the park are defined by the Mbagathi river, and migration in and out of the park is possible.
Posing gazelle

Pictures from Lesotho

Semonkong hiking
Semonkong is a perfect base to hike in the surrounding area where you can find mountains, a canyon, small rivers, waterfalls, birds of prey, small villages with friendly locals.
On the hiking map of the surrounding area which the friendly woman of the lodge had given me, several hikes were indicated. Reading the description of the hikes, I very much wanted to do them all. So I set out to organize the next day such that I could combine all hikes into one. When I woke up the next morning, the sky was blue and the sun just started to shine on the green landscape around Semonkong. I started out walking along the Maletsunyane river, the sunlight reflecting on the water flowing through the green valley. At some points, I had to climb over rocks, but mostly it was a surprisingly easy walk. After passing a small waterfall, the valley widened a little bit, and from here, it was not far until I reached a foot bridge. I crossed to the other side of the Maletsunyane river, and climbed up the hilll to a small village. Kids were playing outside a school, and I had a short talk to some of them and their English teacher.
Maletsunyane river canyon under a cloudy sky

Maletsunyane Falls
The tallest single-drop waterfall of Southern Africa, Maletsunyane Falls drops right off a cliff at the start of a 200 metre canyon. You can approach it both from the top and the bottom.
The sun was already going down when I rushed out of the lodge I was staying in. I had taken more than expected to drive from Maseru to Semonkong, picking up passengers on the way, negotiating the unsealed road that was in a particularly bad condition. Now, I was in a hurry - the Maletsunyane Falls were calling! I quickly walked up the hill separating Semonkong from its hinterland, and as I walked down from the other side, a landscape of rolling green and yellow hills, with several settlements thrown in apparently haphazardly, appeared in front of my eyes. The sun was already on its way down and cast a glowing warm light over the golden green landscape. I finally reached the edge of the canyon, and there it was, on the other side: Maletsunyane Falls. Unfortunately, the sun did not reach into the canyon anymore. It did not make the view any less spectacular, and I spent as much time as possible at Phororo viewpoint. Even though the falls were not even close, the sound of the water falling down 192 metres was very audible. As the night started creeping closer, I had to head back to my lodge, walking the last part under a full moon.
Maletsunyane river plunging into the abyss at Maletsunyane Falls

Liphofung caves
Well hidden under a natural overhang in the northern part of the country, the caves of Liphofung are not only a natural galley of rock art, but also the former hiding place of the first king Moshoeshoe.
After hours of driving through quite empty landscapes in South Africa, we cross the border at Caledonspoort. It turns out to be a smooth process, and we are soon on our way north in the country I had only been to once before. We drive the A1, a main road in Lesotho although it feels like a rural road. We cross villages, stop for people and cattle crossing the road, and meanwhile enjoy the views of the hilly landscapes under always warmer afternoon light. Most other cars seem to be on the way to the Afriski area further down the road, and the idea that we are close to a ski area makes me a little nervous. Then, our navigation app tries to send us down a dirt track, and we decide to see if there is another way. Indeed, a little further on we find a narrow road down the slopes, and park at the entrance of the Liphofung caves.
The fold in the earth in which the Liphofung caves are hidden

Dinosaur footprints
Tucked away in the mountain above Tsikoane are footprints of dinosaurs who roamed the area some 150 million years ago, and it takes a hike to see them and marvel at their preservation.
The day before, we made a brief stop at Subeng, a location near Leribe. It is signposted, and famous for offering dinosaur footprints. A boy comes up to us from across a small valley, and shows us some vague footprints in the river by washing away the mud. We follow him downstream where he says there should be more footprints. He also mentions his father all the time, and we hope to meet the apparently knowledgeable guy to have more information about what exactly we are seeing. Then, a man shows up who is clearly drunk, and the boy confirms that he is his father. What follows is a babble, and we hear absolutely nothing new. It is a miracle the guy doesn't stumble and fall, but makes his way back up the hill again to ask us for money. He even gives us a receipt. If this is how it is, then I'm not interested in more.
Looking up at the mountain above Tsikoane which dinosaurs once called home

Thaba Bosiu
High up on a plateau in western Lesotho lies Thaba Bosiu, once the stronghold of King Moshoeshoe I and still a strong significance for this small southern African nation.
After seeing the dinosaur footprints in the morning, we drive south. We have lost time because the young guide taking us up the mountain at Tsikoane somehow took us on a longer than needed hike. We drive south on the small roads of Lesotho, and skip a place near Teyateyaneng where we had wanted to stop. We drive through a mountainous landscape over a gravel road, where our small car just manages to take us through. The last part of the road is asphalted, and we park at the cultural village at the foot of the mountain we had seen from a distance already. I decide to hike up to Thaba Bosiu alone, as we are running out of time. The staff tells me that a guide with a small group is already going up, and urges me to join them. A steep climb takes me up the mountain fast, and before I know it, I join the group. They are going too slow, so I decide to push on alone.
Part of the royal village of Thaba Bosiu with cylindrical house and tree

Pictures from Liberia

Blue Lake Bomi
The hilly landscape around Blue Lake is mostly man-made, but the views both from the beach and from above are good enough reason to visit anyway, while the legendary boa in the lake might keep you from swimming.
Getting from Monrovia to Bomi turned out quite easy: it involved a ride on a shared taxi, with only a few checkpoints on the way. Once we arrive in town, two motorbikes are quickly arranged, and we are on our way towards the northwest. As soon as we leave the last houses behind us, the road turns out to be beautiful: tall trees on both sides, many of them mango trees full of the delicious fruit, with views of the rolling green landscape in between. My rider steers the bike up the slopes of a mountain, and then, on my left, I suddenly see our destination of the day below me: the Blue Lake. We drive down the lakeside of the mountain, and reach a small beach at the bottom. A few guys are sitting next to their UN vehicle: Jordanese peacekeeper forces on a relaxed afternoon at the end of their mission in Liberia.
Deep waters of Blue Lake reflecting the vegetation on the shoreline

Ducor Palace Hotel
Located on a hill overlooking the city, and once the posh hotel of Monrovia where the rich and famous met, the ruins of Ducor Palace Hotel now make for a sobering visit, reminding you of the horrors of war.
After visiting the monument for the first president of Liberia, we walk past an abandoned lighthouse where gangs now seem to meet, to arrive at the circular driveway of the Ducor Palace Hotel. Even though the hotel was abandoned in 1989, was badly damaged both by the war and by looting, and is basically just a skeletal building, there is a security guard just like there would be one if the hotel would be operational. But after that, everything is different. Work brings me to stay in many luxury hotels, and I try to make out what the hotel would have looked like. The reception - there? The bellboys, a kiosk, the concierge, perhaps a couple of big plants? Then, the elevators - now, large openings in the bare concrete. The only way up now is by leg power. But first, we have a look at the pool area.
Gone are the days when you could go for a refreshing swim in this pool

Monrovia
City with a turbulent recent history, city of slums, of chaotic markets, of some remarkable architecture, of noise, but also with historic buildings, a national museum, and beautiful golden beaches.
We start our exploration of Monrovia at the monument to Joseph Jenkins Roberts, the first president of Liberia who was elected to power in 1848. A tall man standing over a black frieze, and my guide explains the scenes on it: the arrival of settlers from the US, mostly Caribbean islands, who picked Liberia to start a new life as free people. They inevitably clashed with the original inhabitants: the seeds were sown for problems that would eventually give Liberia a lot of trouble. After also exploring the nearby Ducor Palace Hotel, we descend Broad Street, and criss-cross the streets, the markets, walk to West Point, a big slum on the tip of the peninsula. Narrow alleys lead to open squares where people smoke fish, where signs of European football clubs are painted on walls, and to fish markets on the sea shore where big sharks, including hammerheads, and manta rays are just being hauled ashore to be cut to pieces and sold to the women waiting with their tubs.
Rickshaw in downtown Monrovia with a covered street market in the background

Kinjor Town
Built anew for the employees of the nearby gold mine, Kinjor is a town with a regular street grid smack in the middle of the forest, lacking the lively chaos found in most other towns.
After our visit to the Blue Lake near Bomi, finding a shared taxi to the turnoff for Monrovia or Sierra Leone is easy, but then, a long wait to continue towards the west. We install ourselves at a stall of a lady who does not seem to sell much; and the sun is already well on its way down when we finally find two spaces in a car. The sunset is beautiful, and then - darkness, until we finally arrive in Kinjor. Finding a place for the night is a little bit of a challenge: a lady with very simple accommodation charges too much, and I end up in the bed of another lady who is willing to rent out her own place for the night, and even cook for us. We end up eating in her room, with a DVD with tacky video clips of romantic songs from the 1980s. After hearing rats run around the room and waking up under a coat hanger with bras and whigs, it is time to explore Kinjor and the gold mine.
Wide street in Kinjor

Mount Nimba Liberia
The sweeping views from the ridge into both Ivory Coast and Guinea, and seeing some of the remains of the iron ore mining industry make Mount Nimba one of the highlights of a visit to Liberia.
In the end, it took us all day to get from Monrovia to Camp Four by shared taxis. Lots of little adventures on the way: a car on fire, a praying big mama in the front seat who instructed our driver to drive carefully, a discussion about distribution of wealth with a couple of Africans waiting for a taxi, the mysterious loss of my spare camera battery, ending with a fantastic ride in the back of a pick-up truck for the last stretch from Sanniquelli town (the birthplace of the Organization of African Unity) to Camp Four. When we jump out of the car, the last light has already left the sky, and we walk the main street in search of the headquarters of the Mount Nimba nature reserve. Someone shows up in a green uniform, seemingly smelling of alcohol - it is after-hours, after all. He asks us to come back the next day. Next, a search for a bed, which takes us from one stark room to the next, and we end up in a room in a house that is still under construction. A terribly hot and humid night (no electricity) with a multitude of mosquitoes - the rainy season is around the corner. It would take a while before I would discover that this night would give me a bad case of malaria - but that is another story.
Rainbow over Mount Nimba range in the late afternoon

Pictures from Libya

Misrata War Museum
During the 2011 war, Misrata saw heavy fighting in which the Gaddafi troops tried to suppress the uprising; the weaponry used is on display in Tripoli Street, where many buildings still show the signs of the war.
On our way to the airport, we drive into Misrata. On Tripoli Street, we see severe damage in buildings, many of which are all but destroyed. Our driver parks near the War Museum, which we find closed, just like all other museums in Libya are closed because of the precarious war situation. Inside, we know there are pictures of people missing during the Gaddafi era, as well as the chair of the former Libyan leader which he used during his stay in Sirte, and which was also used to take his corpse to Misrata after he was killed in October 2011. His corpse was exposed for four days here, before being buried in the Libyan desert. Resistance against Gaddafi was very strong in Misrata, who had suffered badly from the efforts of Gaddafi troops to quell the 2011 uprising. More than a thousand people were killed and, as we could see, severe damage was done to the city.
Weapons used in the 2011 war by Gaddafi troops exposed outside the war museum

Old Tripoli
A city going back many centuries, Tripoli still has an old city, with Roman remains, but also a multitude of alleys and narrow streets, mosques, and souqs to explore for the intrepid visitor.
After having a drink at a cafe where we could almost believe Tripoli is a liberal, modern and peaceful city, we head to the old part of town. We enter the medina through the arch of Marcus Aurelius, the only remaining Roman structure in this city that was inhabited by the Romans for centuries. In fact, Tripoli was founded by the Greeks in the 7th century BCE, its name meaning Three Cities in Greek, and was subsequently inhabited by the Phoenicians, the Romans, the Berbers, Hafsids, Spaniards, Ottomans, Italians and British. It has been continuously inhabited, and much of the city has been built on the remains of former civilisations, unlike the stellar ruins of Leptis Magna we had seen the day before, which have been partly excavated. We see a minaret behind the Roman arch, and start our exploration of narrow streets and alleys of Tripoli.
Street with Libyan flag in the old part of Tripoli

Second World War Cemetery
Those who perished in the North African theatre of the Second World War are buried in a cemetery in Tripoli that is still maintained; it also has new graves that are at risk of being vandalised.
Our first stop on a tour of Tripoli is a cemetery in the city. Our guide for the day opens a door in a wall, and we immediately leave the city behind and step into an area of peace when we walk inside. We are greeted by caretakers who are from Burkina Faso and happy to speak French with us, and surprised that we have both been to their country. We will find a large number of West Africans working in Tripoli, saving up money to finance their hoped escape to Europe. Our guide tells us that Tripoli was an important base for the Axis powers in the Second World War, until it was taken by Montgomery in 1943. The battles fought in North Africa between 1940 and 1943 with German general Rommel are legendary. Here, at this cemetery in Tripoli, lie 1369 servicemen, most of whom died in hospitals in Tripoli.
Tombstones and palm trees in the Commonwealth section of the cemetery

Villa Selene
In an ancient Roman villa on the Libyan coast, you can find fine mosaics depicting daily scenes and mythology, that become mesmerising as soon as the archeologist cleans them for you and they start to shine.
After our visit to Leptis Magna, our minds are still in Roman times during lunch, and our driver takes us to the coast on a dead-end road. We see an old building, and our driver opens the fence, also allowing several locals in. We meet our guide again, who tells us that Villa Selene (House of the Mooon) is only opened on request, and the others are using the opportunity of our arranged visit to see the place for themselves. We learn that this was the mansion of a wealthy Roman family in the 2nd century CE, although parts of the building are older. We meet an enthusiastic archeologist, who asks us to take off our shoes when we enter the building. We are walking on mosaics: the entire floor is covered by what at first sight look like dusty mosaics. We bend forward for a better look, and then start to see that these are beautiful works of art.
Angel, detail of the Four Seasons mosaic in Villa Selene

Leptis Magna
Among the best preserved and most complete Roman ruins of the Mediterranean, Leptis Magna offers the full range of what a Roman city had to offer: triumphal arches, lanes, baths, theatre, forum, cathedral, market, and much more.
Although I have been here just a few years ago, I am looking forward to our visit of Leptis Magna. After all, this is one of the best preserved Roman cities on the Mediterranean coast, and a great showcase of the genius of the Romans. we are greeted by our guide. He soon turns out to be very knowledgeable about the site. Soon after entering the site, we arrive at the Arch of Septimius Severus. We stop here, while our guide gives us a general explanation of Leptis Magna. Below us, stretching out towards the northeast, is the Cardo, the main street. Even though excavations were started more than a hundred years ago, much of the Roman city still lies underground. Understandably, given the current situation of Libya, it will take time before serious excavations will resume.
View of the theatre with the Mediterranean in the background

Sabratha
Wandering around the ruins of ancient Sabratha brings you to rows of columns, roads paved with large stones, mosaic floors of baths, an olive pressing factory, and the jewel in the crown: the Roman theatre.
Directly after arrival from a night flight from Istanbul, we head west from Mitiga airport near Tripoli. We make a short stop to have a drink, and after a short drive, park at the entrance of Sabratha. The ruins of Sabratha, that is: the ancient city that flourished more than 2000 years ago. A guide is already waiting for us, and we head off straight away. Our guide tells us more about the history of Sabratha while we walk north. It was probably already a settlement more than 2500 years ago, and was a Phoenician port from the 5th century BCE. Sabratha is a name the Greeks gave to it. After the fall of Phoenicia, Sabratha was ruled by Carthage, and after the Punic wars, it eventually ended up in Roman hands. It was the westernmost city of Tripolitania, was rebuilt, and flourished under the rule of Septimius Severus, the Roman emperor who was born in Leptis Magna.
Columns in a section of the ancient city of Sabratha

Castle granaries
Seemingly in the middle of nowhere in the north of Libya, you come across fortified granaries, looking like castles, where once upon a time perishables were stored for inhabitants of the nearby settlement.
After our visit of Sabratha, we are in for a long drive to Ghadames, more than 600 kilometres towards the southwest. Soon after leaving the urban area of the coastline behind, we are on empty roads. The landscape is rather monotonous, until mountains appear in front of us. To our delight, the road eventually turns towards them. Before we know it, the driver steers the car through curves up the mountain. It allows us views over the flat landscape we leave behind, and makes me wonder what lies ahead of us. To my surprise, when we have reached a higher level plain, he steers the car into a side street and parks. Ahead of us, we see a circular, adobe building without windows. We walk towards it, and are accompanied by several armed and uniformed guys.
Circular interior of Qasr al-Hajj

Ghadames
Although without inhabitants, the old town of Ghadames is a pleasure to wonder around: a labyrinth of covered streets, skylights, traditional adobe houses, decorations, an old mosque, a water reservoir - and more await you in the narrow streets of this desert city.
After our long drive from Tripoli, we manage to arrive in Ghadames well before sunset. Just in tine to get on to a fourwheeldrive, and head into the desert. The driver wants to impress us with some dune bashing, and when we finally stop, we enjoy the views over the dark orange dunes which look like soft candy. We watch sunset, and drive down to the barbed wire that marks the border with Algeria. We have some tea and bread with locals, followed by a yummy dinner in our hotel back in the city. The next morning, we head to the nearby old town of Ghadames. We enter though one of the city gates, and enter the maze of streets that make up the desert town. Our guide starts to tell us about the history of the city. Ghadames is considered one of the oldest cities in the Sahara, and it has served as the crossroads for caravans and travelers for many centuries already. During the rule of Septimius Severus, the Romans established themselves here, and named the city Cydamus - which would later become Ghadames.
Coranic and Italian school in whitewashed building in the old town of Ghadames

Pictures from Madagascar

Rova Palace
Strategically built on the highest of hills of Antananarivo, the Rova, royal palace complex, is the most prominent historic and cultural site of the capital of Madagascar with palace buildings, royal tombs, a chapel, fountain, and more.
We walk the steep streets covering the hills of Antananarivo to Analamanga, formerly the highest hill of the capital city in the afternoon. In order to enlarge the terrain used on which to build the palace complex, Analamanga hill was lowered, making it the second highest hill of the city. When we come closer to the Rova, or royal palace complex, the street skirts the ridge of the hill, allowing beautiful views of the colourful andriana houses formerly used by the nobility glued to the hillside. We pass the museum, housed itself in a royal building, but sadly closed to the public, to reach the entrance of the Rova. A stone staircase leads up to a gate, on top of which we see a bronze eagle, brought here by Frenchman Jean Laborde, who worked for the Merina monarchs and was rumoured to be the lover of queen Ranavalona I. Next to the eagle stands a phallus, symbol of circumcision and therefore nobility. Through the open gate, we can already see the majestic, rectangular stone Manjamamiadana building, the queen's palace.
The central courtyard of the Rova palace with the royal tombs on the left and the Manjakamiadana at the far end

Tsiroanomandidy Ankavandra
The drive from Tsiroanomandidy to Ankavandra is an adventure in itself, with an abysmal dirt road, small villages, and rolling hills covered in a green carpet, with heavy erosion exposing a deep red earth underneath.
The drive from Antananarivo to Tsiroanomandidy had been easy, and a good introduction to the highland landscapes of Madagascar. The friendly inhabitants of Tsiroanomandidy made us feel very welcome during an afternoon walk. When our driver turned off the main road RN1, he announces with a big smile that we have seen the last asphalt. He clearly knows what lies ahead, while we don't - and he is looking forward to the drive. After all, for a real driver in Madagascar, an asphalt road is a bore, and the real challenge lies in the many dirt roads of the country. The landscape unfolding before our eyes is one of green, rolling hills. We see rice paddies, small rivers, trees, and villages. Every now and then, someone walking or cycling on the road.
Exposed red earth in a landscape of green rolling hills

Manambolo river descent
Canoeing down the Manambolo river is a great way to experience the landscapes of western Madagascar, and gets more spectacular the closer you get to the end with its gorge and hidden waterfalls.
When the sun rises over the mountains, it sets the landscape below us afire, and the trophy of the lowlands is the Manambolo river that twists through it. We walk down the escarpment, past waterfalls, and after a while, reach small villages where we dance with the locals. They power their portable music stations through a portable solar panel, which is something we will see throughout the country. Ankavandra turns out to be a lively town, and there are hordes of kids following us and posing for our cameras. We do some shopping, get the necessary paperwork done, and walk down to the river. Ahead of us: one of the porters who has a stick from which hang bags with some of the shopping, and a duck and chicken, upside down. Contrary to what we imagined beforehand, we discover that the villages are not on the banks of the river. When we reach the Manambolo, two women are taking a bath, and a small crowd sees us off in our canoes.
Mountains rising high above the Manambolo river in the late afternoon

Tsingy Bemaraha
The landscape of limestone pinnacles, better known as tsingy, is among the most spectacular you will find in Madagascar, and the sculptor of these capricious formations is nature: work in progress.
Getting to the tsingy is part of the fun: a ferry crossing of the Manambolo river can be an adventure in itself, as we saw the evening before when a car nearly fell off into the river in an attempt to drive on. Then, there is the drive on a dirt road - it takes the better part of an hour to cover the 17 km. Upon arrival, we put on our harnesses, and get a short briefing by the guide, explaining the history of the tsingy (the word means "where you cannot walk barefoot" in local language), and what is fady (prohibited) in the park. Initially, the hike leads through forest, passes some small tsingy formations, but soon enough, we are instructed to clip our karabiner to the metal line and descend into a narrow chasm in the rocks. There are narrow openings here and there, and a boulder hanging above us at some part, before we get out into the sun again.
Tsingy seen from below

Belo sur Mer
Peaceful fishing village on the west coast of Madagascar, Belo sur Mer is a gem to discover: colourful fishing boats and people, new ships being built, sandbanks, and a little outside, the salt ponds.
Our driver in Morondava unfortunately shows up late, and by the time we have done our shopping and taken our gasoline for the next days, the sun is already well on its way down. Soon after we leave town, we turn onto a piste, knowing we will not see asphalt for the next five days. The going gets tough quickly, and before we know it, we are driving through rivers, over sandy roads, and through small villages. On one occasion, we get stuck in the mud. The driver does what he can to get us out, but the wheels keep spinning without finding a grip. A passer-by with an axe helps us out by cutting some wood, while others stand by to watch what will happen. They even have the nerve to ask for money when we finally make it, our white car full of mud. The sun sets, and we are driving through flats, past clusters of baobabs we find more beautiful than the over-hyped Baobab Alley, and when we finally reach the shoreline of Belo sur Mer, the sky is deep purple, about to turn black.
Pirogues and fishermen on a sandbank

Andavadoaka
Lively fishing village on the west coast, Andavadoaka has good beaches, with rocky islets just off the coast, with an army of brightly painted pirogues waiting for their turn to go out on a fishing expedition.
After driving the interior of western Madagascar from Belo sur Mer to Manja, a surprisingly lively and colourful town, we continue towards the coast. Yet another ferry crossing over the Mangoky river turns out to be easier than expected, and when we reach Morombé we are back on the Mozambique Channel. Driving further south along the coast, we reach Andavadoaka at a good time - well ahead of sunset. The friendly owner even gives us his bungalow, and we are out for a walk along the coast. Just off the beach, within swimming distance, are rocky islets, one with an arch. We stand here, watching the sun sink towards the horizon, and make sure we are positioned in such a way that we see the sun reach the horizon through the opening in one of the rocks.
Pirogues with sails on their way to fishing grounds in the early morning

Salary
The sand of the beaches is white and fine, the sea is turquoise, the beaches great for a walk, the dunes provide great viewpoints, and the waters are nice and warm: voilà several reasons to make it to Salary.
The drive from Andavadoaka to Salary turns out to be a little more of a challenge than what some have said: deep sand makes the going tough. At the same time, it is a beautiful drive, with plenty of baobabs and other reasons for short stops. When we finally stand o top of a sand dune, chatting to the Italian owner of a hotel, we feel a pleasant breeze coming through to cool us off. In the distance, we see high sand dunes, we see the reef, and we see the beach right below us. We drop our stuff in our bungalow, and head down to the surf. Walking south, we come across part of the fishing village, with a row of pirogues lying on the white sand beach. We then sit on the sand to watch the sun touch the horizon, and quickly disappear from our view. Time for dinner!
Early morning light on one of the wooden pirogues on Salary beach

Madagascar baobabs
Probably the most iconic image of Madagascar are the tall and unique baobabs in the west, and indeed, for lovers of this curious tree are spoilt with the abundance of baobabs on this island.
On our way south of Bekopaka, we start to see baobabs, and their number increase on our way to the famous Allée des Baobabs, or Alley of Baobabs near Morondava. We are unfortunate to have several serious problems with our 4WD, which means that our driver is reluctant to stop (his clutch doesn't work, the tank falls off and has to be tied to the bottom of the car, the car is difficult to start, and other, smaller issues) apart from many stops to try and keep the car moving. It means we arrive at the Allée des Baobabs much later than we had wanted. A crowd of tourists walks on the sandy road, locals try to look for opportunities to earn some money. I decide to concentrate on the enormous baobabs above me, the tallest and most elegant of all baobabs: the Andansonia Grandidieri.
Silhouettes of elegant baobabs at the Alley of Baobabs near Morondava

Isalo National Park
Spectacular landscapes with formations of sandstone, waterfalls, canyons, plains covered in high grass, royal showers, and a good chance to see endemic wildlife, Isalo is a magnet for many visitors.
When we get out of our taxi brousse in Ranohira, the gateway to Isalo, we are immeditely assaulted by guides. Arranging a three-day hike in Isalo turns out to be straightforward, and we enjoy the views of the east side of the mountain range of the park from our pleasant accommodation. Early next morning, we set off for the hike to the canyons which we can already see in a distance. The walk through the sloping fields on which people work, with the vertical walls of the sandstone mountains of Isalo on our left, is a very pleasant one, and your best introduction to the park. There are a few rivers to cross, but only one where we have to take off our shoes. After a short break at our beautiful camp where the porter has not arrived yet, we continue to the Canyon des Rats, which we explore until the boulders become too difficult to pass. We see tombs, both at our level but also high up on the rock face. We walk alongside the mountain wall to the Canyon des Makis, where we have lunch at a natural pool with the royal shower: water dripping from above. Exploring the canyon until we reach the royal bath is easy, and I take a shower and dip in the royal shower. Despite the name (maki means lemur) we do not see any animal. The walk back gives us beautiful warm light over the landscape.
The east face of the Isalo mountain range at sunrise

Ambalavao
A spontaneous visit to Ambalavao turned out to be one of the highlights of our visit to Madagascar: a lively town with colonial architecture, friendly people, and a good base to explore the region.
We are on a taxi-brousse from Ranohira, have changed minibus in Ihosy, and have already paid our ticket to Fianarantsoa, when we drive through a region with rocky mountains, rice paddies, and small villages with red-brown houses and people working the fields. At every turn, the countryside looks more beautiful, and I get very restless. Should we really pass by, or get off? When a lady gets off in Ambalavao, we decide to do so as well. The driver doesn't understand, explains that we are not in Fianarantsoa yet, but we get our luggage off the roof, and walk to a friendly and central hotel. We immediately feel at home here, mostly because of the open and curious people: what a difference with the feeling of being a cow that has to be milked we had in Ranohira!
Main street of Ambalavao

Anja
Near the village of Anja is a small reserve, with boulders, a forest, lake, full of animals and also traditional family tombs, as well as caves and viewpoints to take in the great scenery in the vicinity.
The spontaneous decision to stay in Ambalavao was partly aimed at visiting Anja. Soon after walking away from the taxi brousse, we talk to a tuk-tuk driver, and make an appointment to take us to Anja the next morning. We start off soon after sunrise, and the scenery is more beautiful than the day before, if only because there are still layers of fog lying in the landscape, and the big boulders near Anja are topped by small clouds. When we reach Anja, our guide finds us a spotter, who will walk ahead of us trying to find wildlife. Our main reason to visit Anja is the ring-tailed lemurs, of which we see plenty - I will talk about those later. Apart from the cute animals, the reserve at the feet of the big rocky mountains, also called the Three Sisters, has plenty to show.
Two of the Three Sisters, huge boulders, at whose feet Anja lies
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/anja.html

Ranomafana National Park
A walk through the secondary and primary rainforest in the national park of Ranomafana holds surprises in the way of endemic and other plants, trees, and animals, before heading for the pleasant walk back to town.
When we wake up in the morning, we hear rain on our roof: the first time to hear rain after weeks of blue skies. We realize we are in a different part of Madagascar: close to the rainforest. Indeed, it rains here more than 250 days a years. Fortunately, the rain stops while we have breakfast, and by the time we have taken a taxi brousse to the entrance of the park some 6km uphill, it is dry even on the ground. We cross the Namorona river, with some rapids, before entering the secondary rainforest. Our primary goal is to spot lemurs, and our spotter does a good job to track them - more about that in another section. We also enjoy the rainforest itself, the light filtering through the canopy, the amazing leaves with a green glow, the seeming impenetrability of the dense forest with its abundance of trees and plants.
Andriamamovoka Falls near Ranomafana in the Namorona river

Lemurs
Among the endemic animals of Madagascar, lemurs are probably the most famous, and with more than 100 different kinds of lemurs, there is plenty to discover of these cute and fast animals that can be found throughout the Red Island.
On our journey over the Red Island, we have had the opportunity to see various types of lemurs. In some cases, we were very lucky to do so. After visiting the Great Tsingy in western Madagascar, we walk back to the car park when our guide points high in the tree: we see a brown lemur on a branch. I still do not understand how he was able to know; he told me it was the sound he was making. Shortly thereafter, we spot two Decken's sifaka, a special kind of lemur, in a tree, much closer. The primates seem as curious about us as we are about them. Is their thick white fur not too hot for this climate? They look comfortable though, and we take our time to look at them, moving fast through the trees and over the ground, climbing in the trees, clinging to a trunk, with their innocent faces and round eyes. Very cute!
Ringtailed lemur on a rock in the reserve of Anja

Rova Ambohimanga
Important symbol of the identity of the Merina people and their rich history, the Rova at Ambohimanga draws more pilgrims than other visitors, offers an insight into the habits of royals, and splendid views.
After the crowds, noise and pollution of Antananarivo, the village of Ambohimanga radiates peace and tranquillity. The taxi brousse leaves us right at the Ambatomitsanaga, a traditional gateway with a huge stone disk, called vavahady. It would be rolled by twenty soldiers to either open or close the gate. From here, we follow a stone path leading up the Rova. We pass the Ambavahaditsiombiomby, believed to be the most ancient of gateways of the Rova, consisting of boulders through which you can walk. Higher up, we find carved wooden doors, with the Rova depicted, as well as a zebu head with horns carved out of stone. Around the corner, we reach the Fidasiana-Bevato esplanade, an open space under the shade of enormous sacred aviavy trees. We find zebu horns attached to the trunk of some trees: left here by pilgrims to this culturally and spiritually important site.
The lowest gateway of the Rova of Ambohimanga: the Ambatomitsanaga

Malagasy people
On top of being unique for its landscapes and animals, Madagascar has a remarkable mix of people from origins ranging from Indonesia, India, Arabia, East Africa and Europe giving the country an exotic feel unparalleled anywhere else.
Soon after arriving in Antananarivo, in the highlands of Madagascar, we get the feeling of not being in Africa, but somewhere in South-East Asia. We see fair-skinned people who would blend in perfectly in Indonesia or Malaysia. Traveling around the Red Island, you quickly realize that this country is made up of 18 different ethnic groups. The Merina are the dominant tribe, with roots in Indonesia; they are mostly found in the highlands of Madagascar. In pre-colonial times, the Merina succeeded in controlling the entire island, subduing the other ethnicities; the royals were therefore Merina. The dominance of people originating in Borneo also shows in the language, which is related to a language spoken in Borneo. To complicate things further, we communicate in French.
Kids in the streets of Tsiroanomandidy

Pictures from Malawi

Kamuzu Banda Mausoleum
The resting place of the remains of former dictator Banda have been upgraded from a forgotten grave to a mausoleum where many Malawians pay tribute to their ex President-for-life.
After traveling through the country, getting to know the great Malawian people, and marveling at some beautiful places in the country, there was no time left to explore Lilongwe, the capital city. But after reading about the man who worked his way up from being a smart boy to president of his country, who studied and worked abroad, who has led Malawi to independence, created Malawi out of Nyasaland, but who had also had whims like forbidding women to wear trousers, ordering that his picture be present in offices but never lower than a clock, and threw his opponents in the Shire river to be eaten by crocodiles, I started to develop an interest in this colourful figure.
Entrance of the mausoleum with Loyalty pillar

Vwaza Marsh Game Reserve
Not the most exciting place for game watching if only because of a limited number of animals, Vwaza still merits a visit because of its landscapes and the thrill of a walking safari.
Of course, Malawi is not a prime destination for game watching. Neighbouring countries like Tanzania and Zambia offer areas with a much wider variation of wildlife than can be found in Malawi. Still, a short visit to a reserve seemed in place. If not for the wildlife, then at least for the nature, the landscapes, and the possibility of a walking safari. So it was, that we boarded a pickup truck in Rumphi. It seemed pretty full already, but of course, full is a very relative concept. The floor was already full of all kinds of cargo, then there were people on the floor, on the sides, on the roof. Plus, of course, the passengers in front of the car. When we left, I thought we would be driving straight to the south - but of course, that was a very naive idea. Every time we stopped, more people joined, more bags and boxes were added to the pickup truck. And when nothing more fitted into the back, they just lowered the rear side of the truck, and put more cargo on top of that. Since I had been sitting on the rear side, I now had to hold on to one of the ropes I saw nearby - hoping it was attached well to something strong. Sunset was spectacular, and we ended up driving well into the darkness before arriving at the turn-off for Vwaza. There, we were assigned a cabin, and prepared a basic dinner on a fire - without a clue of our surrounding area. We would find out the next morning.
Pod of hippos in a water of the Vwaza Marsh Game Reserve

Livingstonia
Step back in time during a visit to Livingstonia, an interesting mix of old colonial buildings, tree-lined dusty streets, and great views over Lake Malawi in a distance, plus Manchewe Falls nearby.
Getting to Livingstonia proved to be more difficult than expected on a Sunday morning. Arriving early in the bus station of Rumphi made one thing clear quite soon: it would be next to impossible to find a direct matola to Livingstonia on that day. The only possibility was going to Chitimba and then hoping to find transportation up the escarpment where Livingstonia can be found. After some negotiations, a driver was willing to rent his small truck and surprisingly quickly, we were on our way. Only when we took a left turn after a few kilometres, was I really sure that the driver was actually taking the inside, bad road. It proved to be a fantastic road, one that I had not wanted to miss, even though standing in the back of the truck on the very bumpy road meant being thrown around two hours long. Holding on to the bar was essential. Especially the drive up to the plateau where Livingstonia can be found provided great views of the valleys and villages below. And then, suddenly, we pulled into Livingstonia.
Church of Livingstonia

Ilala Ferry
More than just taking a boat, a trip on the Ilala could well be one of the highlights of your visit to Malawi. It seems inevitable that you will spend more time on it than you planned beforehand!
With such a big lake in this stretched out country, it seemed logical to use a boat to cover some of the distance to travel in Malawi. One of the Great African Lakes, Lake Malawi is actually the eighth largest lake in the world, and is claimed to hold more fish species than any other lake in the world. It is hard to see how you could visit Malawi without also visiting the lake, and a trip on the Ilala seemed the best way to do so. Moreover, apart from taking a flight, the only way to reach the islands near the Mozambican coast is on the Ilala. The boat takes around six days to sail from Monkey Bay in the south, to Chilumba in the north, and back. When coming down from the Viphya Plateau in western Malawi, it was Sunday afternoon and the Ilala was supposed to leave that evening. Three friendly guys taking the examinations for a school to Karonga in the north were willing to give us a lift to the crossroads near Chilumba, where an overloaded taxi with great music took us to the coastal town - the passengers were so infected by the music that they actually left the car dancing into the night - making it one of the best taxi rides I ever had. In Chilumba, it soon turned out that the Ilala would be late - very late. Instead of leaving that evening, it was estimated to arrive early in the morning. It sent the larger than expected number of travellers looking for accommodation in this fishing village. Not wanting to miss the once-weekly boat, I set my alarm at 5am, but the quay was still very empty. Rumour spread through Chilumba: the boat was still in Nkhata Bay, it had already left, it would be arriving at 8am, at 10, at 12... All of us were just killing time, looking at the stands on the beach where fish was drying in the sun, playing at the beach, taking a first dive in the fresh water of Lake Malawi. Then, it appeared around the nearby cape - a blue-and-white ship - the MV Ilala. It took some time to unload, to prepare, during which we were jumping off the quay and getting dry in the sun. After getting on the boat, and waiting for the cargo to be loaded onto it, we finally left Chilumba after 2pm.
The Ilala steamer docked in Nkhata Bay

Likoma Island
One of the gems of Lake Malawi, Likoma Island is well worth a trip on the Ilala ferry: here, you can find relaxation, beaches, go for a swim or a walk on this great island.
We were supposed to arrive at Likoma Island early in the morning, but ended up arriving in the middle of the next night. A drive through the darkness on one of the few cars of the island took us to a beach hotel on the western side of Likoma. After waking up the next morning, we actually saw the island for the first time. The first thing to notice, no doubt, was the absolute lack of any kind of hassle, stress, or whatever. Just the sound of modest waves on the beach, people laughing at a distance, and, every now and then, a mango plopping onto the sandy beach. Since scuba diving was unfortunately out of the question because there was no one who could operate the equipment, the main activities at the beach included snorkeling, chatting with others, roaming the beach for fallen mangoes, or just laying down and reading.
Baobab trees on hills on Likoma Island

Saint Peter's Cathedral
The main attraction on Likoma Island, one of the attractions of St Peter's Cathedral is its location on this remote island, on which it is a very remarkable building indeed.
The sun was shining low in the sky and the day was coming to an end when the contours of the St Peter's Cathedral appeared among the low buildings of Chipyela, the main town on Likoma Island. Suddenly, after walking past baobabs and mango trees (I got the impression that, as a tree on Likoma Island, you are either one or the other), small houses, and dirt streets, St Peter's Cathedral seemed almost out of place. A square building made of sturdy blocks of rock - it could have fitted in the rugged landscape and cold climate of Scotland, but it was basking in the late afternoon sun of Malawi under a perfectly blue sky. The cathedral was closed, and could therefore only be admired from the outside.
Sturdy St. Peter's Cathedral in the afternoon

Chizumulu Island
An island small enough to walk around in a couple of hours, Chizumulu has its very own character. In a short time, you can see a wedding, dance festival, baobabs, and have a dip in Lake Malawi.
Chizumulu had always been there, sometimes seemed close enough to be touched if you would just stretch your arms. From a distance, it had a curious shape: the southern part flat, the northern part hilly. But when we were walking towards the beach on Likoma to leave for Chizumulu, our world was defined by the beam of our torch. It was still pitch dark. We reached Ulisa beach, and to my surprise, found quite a few people waiting. There even was a dhow, on which two guys were preparing the boat - basically, getting rid of excess water. There was time for a refreshing dip in the lake before one of the guys decided it was time to leave. A surprisingly low number of passengers boarded the dhow, and we were on our way to Chizumulu. Almost immediately, the ropes of the sail were released and the make-shift but beautiful sail was raised. The wind caught the large sails, and we gained speed. The absence of any noise was a treat in itself - small waves lapping against the hull of the dhow, and low voices of the passengers, were all that could be heard. The sun had climbed behind the hills of Likoma, and I hoped that this ride would somehow take the whole day: it was so peaceful, so relaxing... But within an hour and a half, we were near Chizumulu, the sail was lowered, and we docked at Same beach.
The southern part of Chizumulu

Malawian people
Colourful masters of their country, the Malawians are sweet, warm, outgoing, and cheerful, and make the visitor feel welcome.
Soon after arriving in Malawi, and getting used to a new environment, the people turned out to be genuinely friendly, smiling, and good-humoured, both among each other, as well as towards foreign visitors. Malawians can often be seen engaged in discussions in the street, with smiling faces. They are a very sociable people, and just saying "hello" is often not enough to greet someone. Malawians often inquire after your well-being, they want to be reaffirmed that you are okay, and are interested in talking to foreigners - almost always, because they are curious about the world and want to learn. The good news is, that Malawians often have a surprising knowledge of English, and communication is normally quite straightforward.
Malawian girl with hat on Chizumulu Island

Mount Mulanje
Fantastic hiking terrain, with surprisingly well-equipped cabins and many trails to explore the basins. Here, you can see wildlife, waterfalls, peaks, rocks, trees - and peace of mind.
It was already pitch dark when we were finally in Mulanje, the small town at the foot of the Mulanje Massif. An early rise the next morning showed a change from the landscapes of northern and central Malawi. Here, impressive mountains rise steeply from the surrounding landscape. The bare rocky surface of the cliffs contrast with the intense green of the tea plantations below, and even early in the morning, small clouds were lingering around the top of the mountain, as if hesitating what to do against such a giant. This, in fact, is the highest mountain of Malawi at just over 3,000 metres. But apart from the clouds, the weather was fine, and the views perfect. Walking through the tea plantations, we reached a turnoff for Likhubula, a town some 15 km north, and the main base for exploring Mount Mulanje. Reaching it proved a little more difficult than expected; in the end, a regular bus proved the best connection. Another walk took us to the head office of the Forestry Office where an excursion on Mount Mulanje was easily arranged. What proved to be a little more difficult, was to just drop off luggage at their office. But once on the way, we felt excited, as we realized we were embarking on yet another adventure.
Rainbow over Chambe Basin

Pictures from Mali

Djenné Great Mosque
The Great Mosque of Djenné is a marvel of architecture; a huge building completely constructed of adobe where colourful Malinese muslims come to pray in traditional dresses.
One of the destinations which had been on the top of my list, was Mali. So when I finally set foot on Malinese soil, I was looking forward very much to it. Although I was there mainly to work, fortunately I was also able to visit the famous mosque of Djenné. The village itself was very quiet when I was there, and walking around the mud walls of the mosque was a distinct pleasure.
Great Mosque of Djenné: marvel of adobe construction

Pictures from Mauritania

Nouadhibou Nouakchott taxi ride
Supposedly an easy ride, the journey in shared taxi to Nouakchott turned out to be full of unexpected adventures - and I arrived just on time for my flight back home.
In preparation for my journey back to Nouakchott from Nouadhibou, I was convinced that it would be an easy ride. Not only had I read so in my recent travel guide, but people had assured me there was plenty of traffic between the two main cities of the country. I even heard there were air-conditioned minibuses that had something similar to a timetable. When I boarded a local taxi to the garage Nouakchott in Nouadhibou, I counted on leaving the city in less than half an hour, and have some time in the capital before I would fly home in the evening. When I arrived, I did not see any minibuses, but sure enough, a tall guy with his face wrapped in cloth, called me, and as he put my bag in the trunk, told me that only three more passengers had to show up. It was the first regular day after the Tobaski religious festival, and I was convinced we would be on our way soon. Talked with one of the passengers, who made me feel old when he told me his mother was younger than me. After more than an hour, one seat still had to be filled, and finally, the driver took off to the "big" gare routiére to find him. Meanwhile, I understood that the minibuses did not leave from this garage at all, but from a different location. Again, African reality had beaten my European logic.
The long road to Nouakchott

Terjit
The oasis town of Terjit is squeezed in between two mountains; through the opening, a small stream with cold and warm water flow into a small pool where you can have a relaxing bath.
It was not that easy to find a car to Terjit. Even though the village is only some 45k from Atar, it is small, and few people need to go there. At the same time, I did not feel like spending the money on renting a vehicle. The solution was, to buy the open seats on a taxi that was going with one women who had come for some shopping. I planned to hike back to the main road, and then find transportation back to Atar from there. While sitting outside on a corner of the market, a few men tried to convince me that the distance was too far to walk, claiming it was 15k, and asking me how fast I could walk. I doubted that their distance estimate was true. When our driver steered the car onto a dusty track into the canyon, I got excited. I had passed here the day before, and the barren mountains looked beautiful. Now, the morning light was shining on the table-shaped mountains, with golden sanddunes at their feet. While the driver tried to convince me to hire him for the ride back, pointing out again that it was too far to walk, I was looking forward always more to the prospect of walking here. But first, of course, I was to visit the oasis village of Terjit itself. I looked back towards the village, with two tall walls of rock standing on both sides of the valley while the white Mercedes 190 disappeared from sight.
View of the canyon of Terjit in which you can find the oasis

Chinguetti
A holy city for Muslims, Chinguetti is a true desert town steeped in history - its ancient stone mosque and several old libraries are the most outstanding proofs.
The sun set when we were still on our way to Chinguetti, and when we arrived in the desert town, it was pitch dark. For weeks, I had been looking forward to seeing Chinguetti, and it was about to happen. I had no clue what the city looked like, and I was excited, when I fell asleep on the roof of a hotel in the new part of town. When I crept out of the hotel, it was still very dark in the early morning. I walked across the riverbed to the old town, and walked slightly east, where I found a good place to sit on the sand. Above and around me, the dark was quietly and slowly pushed back, the black replaced by a dark blue. The stars were extinguished one by one, and slowly, I saw a landscape of rolling sand dunes appear in the near distance. When the rays of the sun finally appeared over the desert, I walked back to the old town, and started exploring the city of Chinguetti that is considered by locals to be the 7th holiest city for Muslims.
Early morning light on the sand and one of the old buildings of the old city of Chinguetti

Adrar Sahara camel trek
No better way to discover desert life than to hike over its sand dunes, sleep under the stars, and marvel at the multitude of organisms who made this seemingly inhospitable environment their home.
When I arrived in Atar, a town in the Adrar region in the central-north of Mauritania, I was determined to tour the desert. I was fortunate to meet a reliable, experienced, and friendly guide right after I arrived, and the next afternoon, after a visit to the oasis of Terjit, we were on the way. When we had visited the ancient desert town of Chinguetti, our camel driver was waiting for us at the outskirts of town. Our bags, food and water were tied to the camels; we would walk the deserts ourselves. It was already hot when we started walking up and down the sand dunes. Quite soon, Chinguetti had disappeared behind us, and we were surrounded by an ocean of sand. I marveled at the shapes of the dunes, the colours, the views. I was amazed to find a myriad of life on the sand: beetles, plants, grass, shrubbery, insects, hares, birds: the desert turned out to be full of life. At the same time, I was impressed by the resilience of these creatures; the dry and hot desert landscape seemed inhospitable to my human logic. I was happy that, after hiking the dunes for a couple of hours, we found a shaded place where the luggage was taken off the camels, who happily roamed the desert, while we prepared lunch and had a rest under a tree. The camel driver cut meat in strips, which were hung on the sharp branches of an acacia tree. It took the camel driver more than half an hour to find the camels again, and then we were on our way again. We crossed a zone with particularly high sand dunes before sunset, when we had views of a small oasis settlement below. Our place for the night.
Camel shadows on a sand dune at the end of the day

Ouadane
The old town of Ouadane was abandoned around the turn of the 19th century, and while it is slowly crumbling away, walking through the ruins of the stone mosque and houses holds a certain charm.
The drive from Chinguetti was easier than expected, and when we arrived in Ouadane, there was still time to walk around the old desert town. The sun was blocked by clouds, however, when we arrived at the top of the hill on which Ouadane is located. We started our walk at the new mosque, which by many standards is not that new, at some 200 years old. A tall stone minaret stands high above it, and as with the mosque in Chinguetti, going inside is forbidden for non-Muslims. We walked down the Rue des 40 Savants, and my guide strictly adhered to the agreement that we had just made with the local guy who was going to take me around the old town tomorrow: he did not tell me much about the history. When we reached the western side of the hill, I could not believe my luck: the sun was just breaking through the clouds, casting its rays on the ruins of the abandoned houses.
The minaret of the new stone mosque of Ouadane in the early morning

Zouérat Nouadhibou iron ore train
Getting to the Nouadhibou-bound train and riding it proved to be full of unexpected twists and turns; after the 18-hour ride, I arrived full of dust on the Atlantic coast.
The fastest way to get from the Adrar region to Nouadhibou is, in theory, taking the iron ore train. Constructed to transport iron ore from the mines near Zouérat in the north-east to the port of Nouadhibou in the west, one of the three daily trains has a few passenger carriages. When I arrived in Atar, I asked around for the train; as I planned to leave the day of the religious Tabaski, the Feast of the Sacrifice. Everyone assured me the train would run anyway, and getting to Choum, a few hours north of Atar, would be easy even on that day. The morning of my departure, drivers of several cars assured me they would leave in the afternoon, and guaranteed a connection with the train. But then, in the middle of the afternoon, they suddenly backed off: they did not have enough passengers, and they were no longer willing to take me only to Choum. Moreover, my guide in the Adrar desert, who had turned into a hospitable Mauritanian, called someone in Choum who had even worse news: according to him, the train would not even stop in Choum, and might not even stop there the next day. Considering my options, I decided to pay extra and head all the way to Zouérat, further north: it would guarantee that I could join the train from its very start. My guide called relatives in the mining city, and assured me they would help me out. The drive to Zouérat was another adventure: quickly after Azougui, the road turned into a sandy track, which forked off into more and more parallel tracks. I never understood how the driver was able to decide for the tracks. We stopped at sunset, and the lucky guy in front of the 4WD pickup truck led the other passengers in prayer in the middle of the desert under the moonlight. We saw the second train pass. When we arrived in Zouérat, I was surprised at how modern and lively it appeared. The driver told me to take a seat at a booth of a sim-card seller, and believe it or not, after a few minutes, a taxi stopped, and a tall Mauritanian dressed in a blue boubou asked me to get in.
Looking ahead from a window at the rear of the longest train in the world

Pictures from Mauritius

Fort Frederik Hendrik
While already known to seafarers, Mauritius was first claimed by the Dutch who started to develop the island and used it as a stepping stone for their Far East trade routes. The remains of their first Fort Frederik Hendrik are still visible.
While it was known to seafares on their way between the African mainland and Asia, and used to stock up on water and other supplies, Mauritius was first colonized by the Dutch. Contrary to other colonies, there were no inhabitants at the time. The Dutch constructed a fort at the port on the southeast side of the island, and called it Fort Frederik Hendrik, naming it after the stadtholder back in the Netherlands, the brother of Prince Maurice after whom the island got its name. Unlike other colonial forts which often defended against subordinate workers, the function of this fort was to protect against possible invaders from the ocean. It was therefore ironic that, in 1695, an uprising of slaves resulted in the burning of Fort Frederik Hendrik. The French would later build a new fort on top of the ruins of the old one.
Ruins of the French fort where Fort Frederik Hendrik once stood

Port Mathurin market
On Saturday morning, the otherwise calm market of Port Mathurin comes to life: inside, you can find daily products such as vegetables and fruit, while outside, you can get souvenirs from Rodrigues, meat, fish, and other products.
Knowing that the market opens, and dies down, very early, I decide to head over the marketplace of Port Mathurin on an early Saturday: market day. When I get closer, I see people walking the other direction with heavy bags full of shopping goods: am I too late? But when I approach the bridge linking the bus station to the market area, I know I am not. People are getting off buses, coming from all over the island to buy. Sellers have been here since very early morning. Hawkers are selling fruit on the bridge, and when I get to the other side, I am surprised to see mostly souvenir stalls surrounding the market building. Colourful shells, wooden cars and planes, bags with Rodrigues written on them: as if a big cruise ship could come in any time. At the same time, foreigners are a small minority here. Or are they bought by people from the main island?
Central hall where most trading is done at the market of Port Mathurin

Reserve Grande Montagne
Humans have forever changed the look of Rodrigues, but the local MWF is aiming at re-establishing the original fauna and flora in the Grande Montagne reserve, and doing a great job at it.
Walking up the hills from the coast turns out a good exercise on mostly well marked trails, with great views of the turquoise waters just off the island of Rodrigues. I walk through fields where crops are being grown, reach the main road that crosses the island, and turn right to walk towards Grande Montagne. When I arrive at the headquarters of the reserve of the same name, I am told that the morning tour has just returned, and that the afternoon tour will start in two hours time. Fortunately, the guides are very friendly, and understand that I cannot wait for a couple of hours for the next tour, and one of them takes me up to the first floor where he guides me around a small museum. On display, amongst other things: the skeleton of a solitaire, a relative of the dodo that was wiped out shortly after the arrival of humans and their devastating exotic animals. Right next to it: the remains of an indigenous tortoise, also extinct.
Big leaf with shadows of another leaf in the Grande Montagne reserve

Rodrigues beaches
The east of the island of Rodrigues is famous for its irresistible beaches, and rightly so: hiking past them (and dipping into their turquoise waters that are impossible to resist) is one of the highlights of a visit to this tropical island.
The east coast of Rodrigues is known for its secluded beaches, and I decide to base myself in Saint François for a couple of days. Apart from some diving off the coast, I end up hiking up and down the coast several times. From Pointe Coton, I follow a trail over the rocks, passing two small beaches, until I reach a long stretch of sand, with the sea softly lapping on the white powder. In the distance, I hear the eternal breaking of waves on the reef, assuring a pool-like tranquillity in the waters of the Baie de l'Est. Near Saint François, I have a surprisingly delicious lunch (fish, what else?) at a street stall, with my feet in the sand. Later that afternoon, I follow the trail along the coastline. After a brief hike through a small forest of casuarine trees, I find myself on a rocky ledge, looking down on the fine white sand of the beach of Anse Philibert. I am sweating by now, and resist the temptation to dive into the turquoise waters: I am curious about the other beaches.
Beach of Saint Francois with black volcanic rocks

Ile aux Cocos
From a distance, it looks like a strip of land in the shallow turquoise sea, but when you get closer, you can see and smell that you are entering bird habitat: Ile aux Cocos is a haven for several endemic birds that show little fear for humans.
As my plane approaches Rodrigues island and I can see the turquoise waters between the reef and the island, Ile aux Cocos appears as a long strip of green with a white line around it. It is at this very moment that I decide to visit the islet. A few days later, we sail off a quay in Port Mathurin, follow the coastline, passing several traditional fishing boats with their triangular sails, until we see two islets appear ahead of us: Ile aux Cocos to our left (south) and Ile aux Sables to our right. The latter is off-limits to visitors; we head towards the strip of green to our left. We jump ashore on the west coast, and I directly walk back to the northern point. Here, the beach stretches out into the sea, and when I turn around, I see the white strip of sand rising from the turquoise waters, with casuarina trees on top of the islet, and a group of brown noddies flying around the tip of their island.
Beach and trees of Ile aux Cocos rising from the turquoise waters

Mauritius buses
They are colourful, they are fun to ride on (if you have patience), they give you an insight in the country and facilitate getting in touch with thr locals, and they often have fantastic names and decorations: the buses of Mauritius.
Of course, you can rent a car, join a tour, or even helicopter your way around Mauritius. This will enable you to see more in less time. But if you want to get in touch with the people and get a true feeling of the country, probably the best way to do so is to use the public buses. For starters, they are works of art, and it is fun just walking around a bus station, watching colourful buses arriving and parking, reading the texts painted on their sides, and admiring the images depicted, like planes, boats, women, but also fairy tale scenes, or the Titanic (making me wonder why the owner would like such a famously failed ship to decorate his bus, and the confidence he things this will give those traveling with him?).
God Wish bus waiting for its next journey over Rodrigues island, at Port Mathurin bus station

Le Morne Brabant
Jutting out of the Indian Ocean, and standing apart from the rest of Mauritius, the Morne Brabant is a strong symbol of the abolition of slavery - climbing it on the day this was celebrated ensured a special feel.
It is dark when I arrive at the gate of my hotel in Mahébourg, and I have to force it open to get to him. It is 4.45am and my driver is already waiting for me, as promised the day before, when his sister called him after I inquired about transportation. Climbing Morne Brabant was one of the things I wanted to do in Mauritius, and when I learned that the abolition of slavery is celebrated on February 1, it was easy to decide to climb on this very day. Coincidentally, it also happens to be the birthday of my own sister, who will be on my mind frequently today. For Mauritians, Le Morne Brabant is a symbol of the abolition of slavery, making this the perfect day to visit the basalt rock at the southwestern tip of the paradisical island. After driving through darkness for an hour, the sky high above us gets a hint of dark, dark grey, and slowly, contours of the mountains above us appear. Then, we see the white of the surf on our left, and the ominous silhouette of Morne Brabant straight ahead of us. I now know I will be on time. Actually, after paying my driver, who tries to convince me to hire him for the ride back to Mahébourg, it turns out I am early. It will take a little while before a few other participants, and the guide show up.
Le Morne Brabant jutting out of the sea, seen from the east

Eureka
Once an estate a little higher up from the capital Port Louis, Eureka now is an example of colonial life and architecture, with the building a small museum and waterfalls a short hike down in the valley below.
After walking to the entrance, with traffic rushing past, stepping into the Eureka compound is like stepping into an oasis. At the same time, it feels like stepping back in time. Mauritius was a colony of the Netherlands, France, and Britain, and thus has its share of colonial buildings. Eureka is one of them. Constructed in 1830, ti is considered to be one of the largest existing buildings. More than that, it gives an insight into what these estates looked like. I walk the gardens around the building, with some beautiful tropical flowers and trees, before I enter the building itself. It holds a collection of items, giving it the feel of a museum. I see several old pianos, furniture, an interesting contraption which offered the user the experience of having a shower, several smaller items.
Colonial building on the Eureka estate

Fort Adelaide
A small fort on a hill overlooking Port Louis, and with views of the lush landscape behind the capital, with a debated history and function, Fort Adelaide marks the spot where I was mugged at knifepoint a long time ago.
Back in 1999, after a lovely stay on Mauritius, I went for a short hike up to Fort Adelaide on the last day of our stay on this tropical island, for the views. I was robbed, and for a while, the event left its mark on me. Also, all my pictures were in the stolen bag, and although the bag was recovered, the rolls were not. Now, many years later, it is time to go back, to see that spot again. From the busy streets of Port Louis, I climb the hill on which Fort Adelaide is built, and instead of taking the shortcut (which is where I was robbed), I take the official road. The fort was built in the 1830s, perhaps against invaders (although British Mauritius was never attacked), or to protect the British against the French who still lived on the island. It never really served either way, and now is mostly a curious building with good views over the Mauritian capital and the surrounding mountains.
Fort Adelaide seen from below

Ile aux Aigrettes
Just off the coast of southeast Mauritius, the Ile aux Aigrettes is not an ordinary island but a testcase to try to reintroduce the original vegetation and animals that once lived on Mauritius.
Just before touching down at the international airport of Mauritius, I see a lovely island from my window. It so turns out to be Ile aux Aigrettes, where the Mauritian Wildlife Foundation are trying to re-estabish the original habitat of Mauritius at the time it was discovered, colonized, and changed forever. It is a protected area, and a short hop from the main island takes you to a jetty on the islet. Already in the small briefing building, I notice two giant tortoises - for a short while, I even think they are fake, until I see them move. Our guide explains that the original tortoises that once roamed the island are extinct, and these are introduced from Seychelles. After walking a short distance, we come to a pit where tortoises can breed, and to our surprise, the guide takes out two tiny tortoises from the ground: born less than 24 hours ago. She shows us how to handle them, and while we touch and caress them, she radioes her colleagues to tell them about the newly born. Holding the fragile animal between two fingers, feeling its claws tickle my skin and its heartbeat under its chest, it is hard to imagine this creature will grow to become like the others, and outlive me by many years. Unless one of the many predators will devour them, that is.
Ile aux Aigrettes seen from the sky in a turquoise lagoon

Pictures from Morocco

Marrakesh
I had a frightening experience in Tanger, but fortunately continued traveling further south, and found relief and the real Morocco in Marrakesh.
My very first trip alone in my life was an Interrail tour of Europe. And since it was also valid in Morocco, and I am always attracted to going to the limit, I decided that it should anyway be a destination. Upon arrival by boat from Spain, I was soon beleaguered by a lot of Moroccan guys of my own age, who wanted to be my guide. In my then quite scarce travel experience, I had learnt to ignore those people. But I was alone, and I was soon fed up with the continued begging for being my guide
One of the main gates of Marrakesh

Old Fès
Claimed to be the one of the oldest medieval cities still alive in the world, old Fès is an adventure to walk around in, with surprises around each corner.
For centuries, the old city of Fès, or Fès el-Bali as the locals call it, had been a secured city, in which outsiders were only allowed temporarily to do business and leave. When the French arrived in 1912, they left the old city intact and just built a new one next to it. This allows the modern-day visitor an amazing look into what the city looked like centuries ago. It is easy to believe that little has changed, apart from the plastic bags in which goods are wrapped when something has been sold.
View from a roof with the medersa Bou Inania\'s minaret, Fès

Fes Tanneries
Hidden behind the narrow lanes of the old city lie the tanneries of Fès, where leather is being treated as it has been for centuries.
While looking for the way to the tanneries, a Moroccan tells me to follow and leads me to a door in the alley, removes the mint leaves, knocks on the door. I follow him upstairs, on a staircase that becomes smaller all the time, and then suddenly I arrive on a flat roof. From here, I see the city skyline, the surrounding hills, and below, I have a perfect view on the tanneries I was looking for. Enormous round vats, all filled with coloured liquids fill up the space between the houses. Men are walking around, carrying animal skins, adding water, making colours, treating skins, shouting, putting leather into a vat here and taking it out somewhere else.
Colouring the leather: tanneries in Fes

Pictures from Mozambique

Ilha de Moçambique
For centuries the capital of Mozambique, small Ilha de Moçambique is slowly fading into oblivion with crumbling buildings as a testimony to its grand history, offering plenty of exploration options for visitors.
The ride had taken longer than expected, and it is already dark when we approach the coast. After suffering on a heavily overloaded minibus, our first chapa ride in Mozambique, for four hours from Nampula, we are very happy to see a straight line of lights reflected in the water: this is the bridge that connects Ilha de Moçambique to the mainland, technically making it an annex of the mainland instead of the veritable island it once was. We walk the sandy streets in search of a place to eat, and are all excited to get up early the next morning to finally see the famous town. Vasco da Gama arrived on this island in 1498, when it was used by Arabs for trading and boat building. The Portuguese established themselves in the northern part of the island, now called Stone Town, and the name of the sultan, Ali Musa Mbiki, lived on in the new name for the island, and eventually for the hinterland that we now know as Mozambique. The small island declined in importance over time, and in 1898, four hundred years after the first Portuguese arrived, the fate of Ilha de Moçambique was sealed, and the capital moved to Lourenço Marques, present-day Maputo. We walk the sandy alleys, past centuries-old houses painted in bright colours, past a statue of Camoes, a famous Portuguese poet who once lived on the island, to reach the boulevard. We walk towards the north, and reach the big fortress on the tip of the island: the Fortaleza de São Sebastião. The low tide allows us to walk around the northern tip of the island, which offers dramatic views of the impressive walls. At the northeastern tip, we see the Capela de Nossa Senhora do Baluarte seemingly rising out of the sea above the rocky base on which it is built. This small church was built in 1522 and is the oldest still standing European building in the Southern Hemisphere.
View of the Capela de Nossa Senhora do Baluarte and the São Sebastião fortress at low tide

Ibo
Sleepy town on Ibo Island, the largest of the Quirimbas Archipelago, the attraction of Ibo lies in the ruins of grand Mediterranean buildings lining the sandy streets, and its tranquility.
After reading reports about the transportation to Ibo from Pemba, we are a little alarmed, as it all sounds pretty awful. However, our trip turns out to be a pleasant adventure. We are lucky in Pemba: the moment we reach the main transportation crossroads, a stationcar turns out to be going towards Ibo, and is almost full (then again, in Mozambique you never know when a car is considered full). The seats are not hard, and after some getting off and on of passengers, loading and unloading baggage, we are on our way. The untarred road leads us through beautiful landscapes of rolling hills covered by trees, and we regularly stop in villages to let people off and others in. Within 4 hours, we reach Tandanhangue, where we wait under a giant flowering baobab tree, with lots of others, for the tide to come in. Suddenly, a few guys indicate it is time to go, and we wade through the water to the dhow. A voluminous woman is taken to the dhow in a small boat and manages to step aboard as well, and off we go. The boat ride is a pleasure: people chat while we sail through the mangrove forest. When we finally approach Ibo, the sun is low enough to cast a warm light on the buildings of this old town. We walk the sandy streets for our first impressions until the sun goes down and it is time for dinner.
Street scene typical for Ibo
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/ibo.html

Matemo Island
The island of Matemo offers the opportunity to experience tranquil island life on one of the Quirimbas islands, meet the locals, walk the sandy road to the far south, as well as access to empty beaches.
Our captain shows up on time, an early morning on Ibo island, before the tide drops. We are quickly on our way to Matemo, an island north of Ibo which appears as a green strip above the sea. The sun is gone, and we even get some rain on our way. We skip a planned stop at the sandbank between the two islands, and by the time we reach the southern tip of Matemo, the sun manages to break through the clouds again. The sea is a little calmer here, and we sail all along the coast to the northwestern tip of Matemo, where we land on a sandy spot jutting out into the sea. Once upon a time, this was the spot of a resort, but it has been closed: the cabins are still there, but are barricaded. We walk the wide beach towards the east, and are met by Dadi, our host, offering the only accommodation on the island. We install ourselves in the thatched tent-like huts right on the beach, and immediately feel at home.
Women in a village on Matemo island

Mujaca Lighthouse Walk
At low tide, a great walk from Ibo takes you through the village, over a quiet track and through a river and a mangrove forest, through shallow waters to an old lighthouse; you will inevitably meet locals on your way.
On this Sunday, we (a party of 6) are going to walk to the lighthouse on Mujaca islet, and we time our departure from Ibo according to the tides. We will be walking in the middle of the day and stock up on water before we set off on the road heading past the Fortaleza de São João Baptista, meet and greet a lot of friendly locals on the way, and follow the sandy road until it becomes a trail through a mangrove forest. The soil is muddy, and we imagine that just hours before, water must have been here. After crossing a shallow river, we continue through the forest until we reach the beach. The tide is reaching its lowest point, and the waves do not even come close to the beach now. Three local girls join us: they are on the hunt for anything edible on their way to Mujaca, and point the way. But that is not really necessary: we can see Mujaca on the horizon.
Low tide on Ibo with Mujaca in the background

Bazaruto Island sand dunes
The high sand dunes of Bazaruto island rise straight from the turquouise waters of the Indian Ocean, and those who climb them are rewarded with sweeping views of the island and surrounding sandbanks.
It had been a very long overland trip from Ibo island: more than 50 hours to reach Vilankulo by boat, chapa, and bus. Our entry into town did not go unnoticed: a little quarrel with the chapa guy was ended when the police intervened. The change from the quiet north is directly noticeable to us: Vilankulo is bigger, has the feel of a busy town, and sees many more foreigners. We get ourselves organized before exploring this charming town where, outside the main streets, people continue living in straw adobe huts. One of the first things to notice when you walk the beach: the islands just off the coast, and we have set our mind on visiting Bazaruto. Normally a destination for very luxurious resorts, the dive and snorkel operator offers a visit to the sand dunes of Bazaruto in between exploring the underwater world.
View from the top of one of the highest sand dunes on Bazaruto Island

Tofo Coastline
Apart from the spectacular underwater life just off the coast of the beach town of Tofo, its coastline makes for great walks at the feet of its mighty sandy dunes - some topped by palmtrees.
Arriving at dusk in Tofo is a scary experience: our chapa is assaulted by a horde of people and we literally have to fight our way out. Once on the streets of the coastal town, we immediately notice the difference compared to all we have seen in Mozambique before. There are people approaching us trying to sell something, loud music pumping from the many bars lining the sandy streets, hordes of tourists around. After installing ourselves in a small, recently opened accommodation just metres from the beach, we enjoy a nice dinner. The next morning, we are in time to arrange an ocean safari - one of the main reasons we came to Tofo in the first place. Just off the coast, the sea drops considerably, which helps to make Tofo one of the best places to see large fish and whales.
Stretch of empty beach south of Tofo

Colonial Maputo
There still is a large amount of colonial buildings scattered around the city of Maputo, of very different styles, giving the Mozambican capital a unique appearance worth exploring.
When we arrive in Maputo from the north, we have been travelling in Mozambique from north to south, and have reached our final stop. After the small towns, the beautiful coastal landscapes, the picturesque islands and the former capital Ilha de Moçambique, we are ready to see a totally different face of the country: its capital city. We quickly discover the motorised ricksha, or tuk-tuk, or txopela as they are called locally, as the best way to cover larger distances in the city, and take one to the railway station first. This is one of the most prominent buildings in Maputo, sometimes mistakenly attributed to Gustave Eiffel. It turns out to be under repair, but the remarkable upper part is still visible, with a huge dome crowning the building. Inside, we find old wooden ticket booths, waiting rooms, some of which have been turned into art galleries. At the far end of the platform, we find a railway museum, but the sun sets early in Maputo, and we prefer to explore the station itself. We climb through a carriage to have a better view. The more we walk, the more details we see, like old logo's on the windows, and intricate metal works to embellish the building.
The colonial railway station of Maputo

Pictures from Namibia

Sandwich Harbour
At Sandwich Harbour you are at the doorstep of a savage desert and the infamous Skeleton Coast; driving here is part of the thrill and walking around the small lake with its flamingoes unforgettable.
It had been on my mind for years, to go to Sandwich Harbour. But since this place is not easily accessible (only 4WD), and since I had never been around long enough, it had always escaped me. This had the added advantage that when I finally arrived, I was double excited. Quite soon after leaving the inhabitated areas of Swakopmund and Walvis Bay, it became clear how the desert slowly but surely moves north.
Sand dunes near Sandwich Harbour

Sesriem
As the colours change with the movement of the sun, visiting Sesriem early morning or late afternoon is a jaw-dropping experience as each dune shows a different shade of yellow, orange, and red.
Arguably the driest area in the world, the huge Namib desert also contains one of the most imaginative desert landscapes available - still largely untouched by man. The wind deposits the sand everywhere as it pleases. The contours of the dunes are constantly being redefined, always changing very sharp lines, waves, ribs, holes. Each dune shows a different shade of yellow, orange, and red. One is orange, the next salmon, another more like apricot, and the fourth golden. And these colours change with the movement of the sun.
Sand dunes in Sossusvlei

Namib Desert Details
It can just be so relaxing to just sit down on top of a dune, enjoy the landscape, observe small creatures in their sandy world, and let time and life pass by.
The sanddunes are probably the best known feature of Namibia. The panoramas are indeed a gift for the eye. But upon closer inspection, also micro-landscapes of sanddunes can be very interesting. It is recommendable to stay a few days at the dunes, not to rush on to the next sights. Because there is much more to see than the amazing dune landscapes.
Profile of sand dune near Sossusvlei

Namibian roads
Roads are an integral part of the landscapes through which you travel in the desert country of Namibia: sometimes barren, often lonely in an unearthly way.
For me, in Namibia also the roads are a sight in themselves. They are an adventure, some of them are extremely good, most of them are gravel, but all of them are beautiful. They are an integral part of the landscapes through which one goes. There are few stretches of road which are boring - most are almost thrillers. Every curve, every turn gives new panoramas. Behind every mountain, there are more. And sometimes, after hours on the road, you just discover the sea. Out of the blue.
Namib desert landscape

Kolmanskop
How small one feels when confronted with the silent but inescapable forces of nature. Once a thriving community in the desert, Kolmanskop now is an abandoned place where nature slowly but surely eats away this village.
In the middle of one of the deserts of Namibia, in the south of the country, lies the town of Kolmanskop. Or rather, lied the town of Kolmanskop. Once erected when the diamond trade was booming and a town was needed for those who wanted to make a living of this trade, it was subsequently abandoned completely in 1956 when a slump in diamond sales occurred and subsequently more diamond deposits were discovered in the Orange River to the south.
Sand in house of Kolmanskop

Etosha National Park
Probably the best place to go on a safari in Namibia, Etosha National Park gives you ample opportunity to see much of the wildlife Africa is so famed for.
One of the attractions of Africa is going on a safari. If you do it in the right season, it can become an unforgettable experience to see those impressive wild animals in the open. I went on safaris in many countries, but Etosha remains my favourite. The park is enormous (more than half the size of my home country!) and it is relatively easy to spot wildlife. As an additional attraction, there is the Etosha Pan, a depression in the earth which used to be a lake. Now it has turned into a formidable dry white area.
Elephants in Etosha

Pictures from Niger

Agadez Cattle Market
An open space on the western outskirts of Agadez, the animal market is a fascinating sight where men dressed up in colourful turbans negotiate about the cows, donkeys, camels, and goats for sale.
When I reach the main road to the west of Agadez, I take a left, walk in what seems like a dry riverbed, until I get to an open space. It is not immediately clear where I have to go, and the people I try to ask do not speak French while I only know a few words of Tamasheq - until I see a man herding his goat into a narrow dusty street on the left. Just beyond, I find my destination for this morning: the cattle market of Agadez. It is early in the morning, and buyers and sellers are still arriving. I install myself in a corner of the open space, close to the cow market, which allows me a good view at the life of the cattle market. People - almost only men, with a few small groups of women passing by every now and then - arrive from small side streets to the dusty open space where cattle is traded every day of the week. This is the regional hub for most trade, and people come a long way to buy or sell animals here.
Goat section of the cattle market with Tuaregs

Agadez Old Town
It is easy to walk around the old town of Agadez for hours, admiring the adobe architecture of the houses, some of which have decorations on the exterior, while others have historic significance.
After leaving my passport 10 kilometres out of town at a dark checkpoint, I am curious about the old town of Agadez, while a little anxious about my travel document. My curiosity wins, I cross the street while the sun starts its daily climb from the horizon, and explore the west side of the old town. I stumble upon small mosques, narrow, dusty streets, and adobe houses. Every one of them is unique, and shaped by hand. There are no sharp corners: the houses have rounded curves, making them even more attractive and rustic than just their colour. The main attraction of Agadez inevitably is its Big Mosque, but the old town also has a lot to offer. In the subsequent days, I keep on coming back to the small squares, to the alleys, admire the decorations on some houses, peeking into door openings behind which I see courtyards, and getting in touch with the local people.
Cemetery of the marabouts at the Place des Martyrs in the old town of Agadez

Agadez Big Mosque
The spiked adobe minaret of the Great Mosque of Agadez has especially warm colours at the end of the day, and towers high above the people coming here to pray on Friday afternoon.
Since visiting the Aïr Mountains and the Teneré Desert has become a little more complicated in recent years due to the security situation, the main reason to come to Agadez was its famous early 16th century adobe mosque. After arriving just before midnight, a motorbike driver takes me to my hotel for the next couple of nights right in the old town. The old adobe building with local decorations on the walls immediately gives me a taste of Niger as it has been for centuries. When I wake up the next day, I climb to the roof, and my first sight is the minaret of the famous mosque. After a short walk through the old town, I arrive at a wide square, at the end of which the mosque reveals itself to my eyes. It is early morning, and there is nearly no one around, so I walk around the minaret which proudly stands in the middle of the mosque, as a pinnacle landmark that cannot be ignored by anyone. The minaret is square, and the closer you get, the clearer it is that the tower is handmade - literally. The lines are shaky, the wooden spikes are irregular, as are the openings, and the top. It only makes the minaret more convincing, and I would not know how not to fall in love with this masterpiece.
Big Mosque of Agadez with spiked minaret and passer-by

Zinder Sultan Palace
Built in the mid 19th century, the impressive adobe Palace of the Sultan stands proudly at the threshold of the Birni quarter, is still fully operational, and can be visited on a guided tour.
After arriving in Zinder from Agadez by bus, it takes some time to find a place to sleep because the president of Niger will be visiting the next day. I take a motorbike to the Sultan's Palace, and admire the adobe building from the outside. The afternoon is a good time to see the outside, because it faces west and the sun shines directly on the impressive facade. But I postpone a visit to the inside for the next day, and first explore the adjacent old quarter of Birni. I am back the next morning, and when I take out my guide to read a little bit under a tree, I am called over by one of the many servants working in the palace, saying someone wants to see me. It turns out to be a man I had seen the previous day, who now suddenly starts a discussion about the fact that I took a picture of the palace the day before. Then, everyone gets a little nervous, and it turns out that the Sultan is about to leave his palace to go to the airport and meet the president.
The Sultan Palace of Zinder seen from up front

Zinder Old Town
Apart from enjoying the scenic alleys and streets lined with adobe houses, the joy of exploring the old quarters of Zinder lies in the contact with the people who soon make you feel welcome.
After arriving in Zinder, I immediately went to the old part of town to explore. I was curious to see this part of town, and had heard various stories about it. Without a plan, without a map, I just enter one of the narrow streets south of the Sultan's Palace, and start taking in the sights. All houses are made from adobe, and I soon run into houses with peculiar decorations on their outside walls. Geometric designs, often in white, are plastered on the adobe walls, making some houses stand out. As always, I am a little cautious with my camera, but I soon feel that people have no problem with me taking pictures of their houses. Before I know it, people start asking me to take their picture: mostly daring kids who surround me with shrieks of joy, but sometimes also shier adults.
The Birni quarter of Zinder has many adobe houses

National Museum of Niger
More than just a museum about the various aspects of Niger, the National Museum offers open spaces, has a zoo and skeletons of dinosaurs, as well as handicrafts: it is Niger in a nutshell.
Niamey is not choke-full of top sights, but one of the things not to be missed must be the National Museum. After buying my entrance ticket, I still think I will be out in an hour or so. A guy tells me that the exhibition halls will close in less than an hour. It turns out that the collection of the museum is actually housed in several separate pavilions constructed in Hausa style, blue and white paint with decorative elements on the outside. The exhibits turn out to be very interesting. There are utensils, weapons, clothes, and more on display from the various ethnic groups living in Niger: the Tuareg, Songay, Hausa, Fula, and more. There also is a giant cow skull. The next pavilion houses musical instruments, but is already closed, so I hurry to the next one, passing cages with animals on my way.
The collection of the National Museum is housed in typical Hause buildings

Kouré Giraffes
You can have a close look at the giraffes of Kouré by simply walking up to them; it is impossible not to love these elegant and gentle creatures which roam the plains east of Niamey.
With the sun already behind the horizon, the bus slows down between Dosso and Niamey, and to my surprise, I see a small herd of giraffes in the moonlight. The other passengers on the bus, which originated in Zinder, all come to the right hand side, and look in awe at the gracious animals. It is an almost magical encounter, and I am more determined than before to come back here to have more time with the long-necked mammals. Even before leaving for Niger, visiting the giraffes was one of the things I looked forward to. West Africa is not the prime wildlife destination of Africa, even though just a century ago all kinds of wildlife roamed the northern half of the continent from Senegal to Egypt. Intense poaching has reduced the numbers of these animals, and in many cases, wiped out the entire population. One exception are the herd of giraffes close to Niamey: the last surviving giraffes of West Africa. Even though it is only some 60 kilometres from Niamey, getting there is a challenge for those without their own vehicle.
Giraffe head appearing in a tree

Gerewol
A dazzling and colourful event, the Gerewol is an annual courtship competition in which decorated Wodaabe Fulani men perform dances and make themselves beautiful in order to attract women of their tribe.
When we are approaching the place where the Gerewol festivities will be held, I feel excitement and anticipation. I have heard many good stories about this traditional courtship competition, seen pictures - and now I am about to see this unique event with my own eyes. We have traveled more than six hours from Agadez, and first have lunch. Then, we are invited to come with our guide (unfortunately, it is mandatory to go with a guide and a group to see Gerewol). It turns out the Tuaregs are camping just a few minutes walking distance. While we see many Wodaabe Fulani people around in their daily attire of enveloping clothes and turbans, we also see groups of young men with their upper bodies partly uncovered, and wearing white skirts. They also have feathers sticking above their heads, they wear jewellery around their necks and around their heads, and their faces are painted red, brown or yellow.
Young Wodaabe hopefuls dressed up to be selected as a husband at Gerewol

Pictures from Nigeria

Oyingbo Market
Life in Nigeria revolves much around markets, so the best place to see every day life and meet the locals, is visiting one of the many markets, which with their many colours and people are attractive enough to the eye.
While the city is not rife with attractions for the visitor, I decide to see several local markets on my visit to Lagos. Since the situation in the city is a little tense, I ask someone from my hotel to join me, and he starts off well by negotiating hard with the taxi driver that is supposed to take us to Oyingbo market. We get badly stuck in a traffic jam on our way, but when we finally get out of the car, I immediately know I am going to like this place. Nigerians everywhere; it is a quiet day and there seem to be more people selling than buying. Both buyers and sellers are mostly women, and when we get to the very first market stall, the lady allows me to take a picture of the fruits she is selling, as well as her own self. When kids see me with my camera, they rush forward, begging to be photographed as well.
Women selling pips at the market of Oyingbo

Shitta-Bey Mosque
One of the oldest mosques in Nigeria, what makes the Shitta-Bey mosque special is that initially, you might not even recognize it as an Islamic temple because of its unique architecture.
Out of all the possible things to see and experience, we opt to start our visit at the Shitta-Bey mosque. We end up in some heavy traffic, and get off before reaching the place. Walking the last bit, we do not immediately recognize a mosque, but the map is unequivocal: we are very close. To our left, we see a building with a sloping facade, and open doors at ground level. Hesitantly, we approach the building, and are greeted by several men wearing distinctive Muslim attire. They invite us in, and then, all our doubts vanish. We see the mihrab, we see carpets, we see signs on the walls. The men enthusiastically guide us around, and seem a little puzzled by our curiosity.
The mihrab of Shitta Bey mosque

Jaekel House
A mansion of the former superintendent of the Nigerian Railways, Jaekel House is a unique place of tranquillity in the enormous Nigerian metropole with a museum inside.
Finding transportation to get to Jaekel House turned out to be complicated. We had assumed that this famous place in the city would be well-known, but the keke (tricycle) drivers we ask, have no clue. We try to explain using our phones, showing the location on the map, but this doesn't seem to help. We end up taking our chances, tell the driver we need to go in the direction of Lagos railway station. From there, we guide the man behind the wheel towards our destination. When we finally arrive, he drives his tricycle on the grassy parking and looks genuinely perplexed. It feels like we have given him the opportunity to learn something about his own city.
Looking up at Jaekel House

Makoko
A world in its own right, Makoko is often understandably referred to as Venice of Africa, and is both a photogenic and a shockingly poor destination in the Lagos metropole.
One of the staffers of the Jaekel house advised us to take the keke directly to Makoko, which turned out to be a good advice. However, when we arrive in the neighbourhood at the borders of Lagos Lagoon, we still have to find out how to charter a dugout canoe and explore the waterways. The driver doesn't have a clue, so we get off, hoping to find someone. We ask around, and are asked to sit down in a local bar. After a while, several impressively large guys arrive, with sunglasses and all. At once, we see who is the leader of the pack: an especially tall and muscular guy. He seems friendly, listens to what we are looking for, and asks for a much exaggerated price for one hour on a canoe, which doesn't even leave room for negotiation. We kindly refuse his offer, want to leave, but now the guy doesn't smile anymore. He claims he's the boss of the area, and we will never be able to visit by ourselves without him. After a bit of talking, he suddenly smiles again, and offers to take us for ten percent of what he proposed before. A little surprised, we accept.
Dugout canoe with woman with hat in Makoko

Kano tanneries
In one part of the old city of Kano, you can find bassins where clothes are coloured indigo, as well as tanneries where hides are processed and prepared for export.
After a day in the vastness of Lagos, we take a morning flight up north, to the city of Kano. We get off in a scorching heat that directly envelopes us from all sides, even though it is still morning. We meet our guide and driver, and before we know it, are on the way to the city. We drive up to a corner where we change money, in the comfort of the car. Nigeria, too, is a country with a very low denomination for the biggest bill, and we get a serious pack of very used bills in rubber bands, and set to count them all. When we are done, we directly drive to a nearby area, and get out of the car. We are welcomed by some locals, and follow them through an opening in the wall.
Hides attached to a wall with man working at the tanneries of Kano

Kano Emir Palace
Dating back centuries, the Emir Palace of Kano offers an insight in a monarchical world of succession and feuds, of power, of luxury, all in a setting of decorative halls, doors, and thrones.
After having explored the tanneries in the city, and the bustling markets which give us the impression they must have looked pretty similar a long time ago, we have also explored the fascinating Gidan Makama museum which introduces us to the rich history of this legendary city. This history goes back millennia: Kano grew as a trading city, on trade routes across the Sahara, linking northern Africa to the Atlantic coast further south. Still now, it is the second largest city of Nigeria. It has been populated by both Hausa and Fulani people. The centuries-old Hausa Kingdom was replaced through a Fulani jihad, which established an Sokoto Caliphate in Kano in 1805.
Trees lining the road leading to the entrance gate of the Emir Palace of Kano

Dala Hill
The cradle of the modern city of Kano, Dala Hill in the north of the city is a logical place to built a settlement, overlooking the surrounding area, making it a great viewpoint for modern visitors.
We knew already that Kano had existed for many centuries, but our guide proposes to go to the very birthplace of Kano. We drive through the city with its traffic and the occasional horse rider, and then park at the foot of Dala Hill. We walk up to some rocks, where our guide stops and starts explaining. Back in the 7th century, a hunting and gathering community of people settled here, and specialised in working iron. Barbushe, a warrior priest, claimed that Dala Hill was the home of the deity Tsumburbura, important to the Hausa people - turning Dala Hill into a religious place. In fact, Barbushe resided on the hill, which others were not allowed to climb. It is said that people who tried, perished.
View of Dala Hill in the late afternoon

Dutse
An easy day trip from Kano, Dutse is a fascinating, yet modest town with a brilliant Emir Palace showcasing the importance and wealth of this Jigawa capital.
After exploring Kano, the second city of Nigeria, it is time to delve deeper into the north of the country. After an easy ride, we arrive in Dutse, the capital city of Jigawa state. We drive straight to the Emir Palace, which lies at the far end of a square. A water truck is parked at the beginning, surrounded by people with jerrycans waiting for a fill. We park at the other side of the same sandy square, and are welcomed by a small delegation which walks us through the entrance gate. Our local guides start explaining us about Dutse, and its long history which began in pre-colonial times. It was founded near rocky hills: these granite formations provide natural shelter and defence. This is where Dutse took its name from: the word means rocky hill in Hausa, the local language.
The intricately decorated exterior of the Emir Palace in Dutse
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/dutse.html

Zaria
Known for Islamic scholarship, trade, and skilled artisans, Zaria also boasts a photogenic old city centre with welcoming inhabitants, as well as a colourful Emir palace.
We had decided to stay overnight in Zaria, which meant that we had a long drive from Dutse. After installing in a hotel, we opt for a walk before night falls. The temperature is already pleasant, and the walk along quiet streets a relaxing. We pass a horse racetrack, and watch the jockeys on and off the track. The dust the animals throw into the air makes for great light conditions. We reach a small market, where we meander through stalls and traffic. But even here, Zaria gives us a laid back atmosphere. We take a keke back towards our hotel, and make sure to stop at a fruit stall for some delicious mangoes and watermelon before having dinner.
Colourful exterior of the palace of the Emir in Zaria
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/zaria.html

Ramin Saura sandpit
An unusual destination easily overlooked, the Ramin Saura sandpit gives an insight into the basics of building in Nigeria, as well as the hard work people do.
After having seen brilliant palaces, mosques, bustling markets, and old trading cities with long established traditions, our guide takes us to a totally different place. This is not a stunning landmark, this is not a museum with u unique artefacts, this place will never see tour buses stop to allow its passengers a view. Yet, this is one of the most surprising places we see these days. Not knowing well what to expect, we arrive at the edge of the pit, and look down. Below us, we see an area of water, of sand, of steep cliffs, arches, and men working in the scorching sun deep below. This is Ramin Saura sandpit.
Water and earth: the ingredients to create bricks in the sandpit of Ramin Saura

Daura
The mother city of Hausa identity, founded on a legendary story of a prince and his queen, Daura also offers traditional architecture and a fine Emir palace.
On our last day in the north of Nigeria, we travel up to Daura, towards the border with Niger. During the drive on a quiet road, we pass cow-drawn carts, reminding us that we are distancing ourselves from cities and entering rural parts of the country. When we arrive in Daura, we still get this feel of a laid-back, tranquil city. We drive straight up to a sandy square, and are ushered into an office with several officers. They welcome us to their city, and most follow us on our way towards the richly decorated gate of the palace grounds. The traditionally shaped Sudano-Sahelian buildings, with brightly painted decorations outside, somehow breathe a deep confidence. We notice signs with a sword and a snake, and are about to find out the story behind it.
Emir palace entrance in Daura
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/daura.html

Idanre Hills
In a valley defined by granite domes, the top of Idanre Hills gives you a fascinating insight into what once was a thriving and secluded civilization protected by its natural setting.
After several days in the scorchingly hot north of the country, we are off to a completely different setting in the south. From Lagos, we drive towards the east, first on highways, then always smaller roads with always more roadblocks. To our surprise, the latter pose no real nuisance - on the contrary, we are often welcomed to Nigeria by the police checking our passports. We drive through a landscape that is noticeably greener than the one in the north. After hours of driving, we see mountains rise to our right. The closer we get, the more spectacular they seem: granite domes rising out of the plains with their weathered round shapes. We take another turn, and the road now leads us straight to those mountains. Then, at the foot of those granite giants, we find the town of Idanre. We have arrived. Only question: are we still on time?
The top of Idanre Hills with granite formations and trees

Osun Osogbo Sacred Grove
One of Nigeria's most sacred places can be found on an island in a river in the south: the Osun Osogbo Sacred Grove where the visitor clearly feels a spiritual atmosphere.
Nigeria has two global religions within its borders: both Islam and Christianity have a big following. Originally, like many countries in Africa, it held other beliefs - and these are still persisting everywhere, although less visible in society. The Yoruba, one of the largest ethnic groups in the whole of Africa, have their own complex religion which can be described as polytheistic (they have hundreds of deities), with an influence of animism. Yoruba might refer to their religion as Isese. We are on our way to a sacred place for the Yoruba: the Osun Osogbo Sacred Grove, named after the river deity Osun who offered a forested island in the Osun river as a sanctuary.
Sculptures created by Susanne Wenger inside the Osun Osogbo Sacred Grove

Erin Ijesha waterfall
Hidden in a natural setting of forested and steep hills, the seven waterfalls at Erin Ijesha invite visitors to adventure which increases the higher they get.
After having seen so many rich cultural and religious places in various parts of Nigeria, today it is time get active and dive into nature. We head to the small village of Erin Oke, where we stock up on water and biscuits. From here, it's a short drive to the parking of the Erin Ijesha waterfalls, also known as Olumirin waterfalls to locals. When we arrive, a schoolbus is filling up with students who are all excited to see us, and we ask them about their experience. It seems that their visit was easy, so we have reason enough to decline the persistent guy offering himself as a guide. We prefer to be alone on the climb. The driver decides to join us: he has never been here before.
Water rushing down through the forest and past trees at Erin Ijesha

Ikija Town
An unplanned walk through Ikija Town showed us some remarkable buildings and houses in between big granite boulders, churches and mosques.
When we arrive in Abeokuta, we first make a short stop at the complex of modern architecture in a pleasant park. Unfortunately, an overzealous staff member chases us out, even though we got permission to roam around at the entrance gate. From here, it is a short drive to Olumo Rock, the main sight of Abeokuta we have been looking forward to since a couple of days. To our dismay, when we arrive at the entrance gate, we find that access has been closed just a few days before. We double check, but there really is no way to climb the rock and enjoy the views. We now drive to nearby Adire Market, but see houses in between granite rocks on the way.
Houses on and around granite boulders in Ikija Town

Badagry
Nowadays, Badagry is a lively Nigerian town, but the history of the slave trade is never far, and it offers the visitor a good starting point to understand this fateful period for Nigeria.
After having explored Ikija Town in Abeokuta, we drive straight to Badagry, where we arrive in a hot afternoon. We get rid of our bags, and head straight to the Slave Market. Our guide starts telling the story. Initially a fishing village, Badagry turned into a trading post when the first Europeans (Portuguese) arrived at the end of the 15th century. Because of its strategic location at the sea, not far from Lagos, and connected by land and water, Badagry turned out to be a perfect trading post. Initially, this trade included ivory, palm oil and textiles, but the traders soon turned to slaves which was a much more profitable business. It even continued well after the British abolished slave trade in 1807. Rough estimates suggest that around half a million Africans were sold into slavery in Badagry alone.
Point of No Return on Gberefu Island, near Badagry, where slaves were deported mostly to the Americas

Pictures from Rwanda

Kigali Genocide Memorial Centre
When in Rwanda, it is impossible to visit the Kigali Memorial Centre, dedicated not only to the genocide that took place in Rwanda itself, but also other genocides in the world.
On my first day in Kigali, I decided I should start with that gruesome chapter of the history of Rwanda, the genocide that took place here. While I walked from the bus stop to the entrance under a warm sun, I was greeted by friendly passer-bys. All seemed normal, yet I knew I was about to see atrocious things. After a double security search at the entrance of the modern, white washed building, I decided not to take the audiophone; indeed, it turned out there were plenty of explanations in the memorial centre. The first rooms told the story of Rwanda in (pre-)colonial times, and how the two main groups of the country, the Hutus and Tutsis, came to be separated as groups, treated differently, and ultimately, oppose and fight each other as a consequence. There were videos, with Rwandans telling their story. More than anything, it was their calm voice while recounting horrible events that was impressive. There were pictures, with gruesome scenes, leaving no doubt as to what had happened. There were graphic explanations in three languages.
Black wall with names of victims in the Genocide Memorial Centre

Nyamata Genocide Memorial
Visiting the genocide memorial in Nyamata is a confrontational experience, as you walk a former church where thousands were brutally murdered, their clothes and skulls gruesome witnesses to an unimaginable tragedy.
After having learnt a little about the genocide in the Kigali Memorial Centre in the morning, I decided to take a minivan to Nyamata. A 45 minute drive later, I walked the main street where people were living their daily lives, passed a soccer field where two teams were doing a warm-up for a match, greeted some old ladies under a tree, and laughed at a young man with a large woman on the back of his bike, cycling like crazy. All seemed well, yet, I was about to reach the former church of Nyamata, where a massacre took place in 1994. The gate was locked, but a Rwandan youngster silently came to open it, and I had to leave my bag outside. There was no guide, but my silent friend, who could only speak Kinyarwanda, accompanied me. Inside the church, there were wooden benches, just like they must have been when the church was still functional. However, the benches were all covered by piles of old, slowly decaying, clothes. The enormous amount of them, and the knowledge that they had all been worn by people who sought refuge in this place of worship, suddenly made the amount of people very palpable. It is thought that some ten thousand people flocked here before being murdered in cold blood. The church had been locked, and the attackers didn't even bother to open the door; they blasted a hole in the gate, threw in grenades, and once inside, committed their heinous crimes. There are many bullet holes in the wall, shrapnel of the grenades has blown small holes in the roof.
These are some of the skulls in the mass graves of the Genocide Memorial of Nyamata

Gisakura tea plantations
Rolling hills covered with a shiny emerald blanket, narrow lanes cut through the foliage; all of this framed by mountains: the tea plantations around Gisakura make for a beautiful man-made landscape.
It had been a long busride from Kigali, and while the bus was driving through Nyungwe National Park, I was getting eager, and increasingly impatient, to get out. I had not made a reservation in the guesthouse, and when I finally saw the bus drive away at the Gisakura office, I was not sure I had made the right decision. Fortunately, it turned out that I could arrange my tracking here, and that the guesthouse still had a room and was right next door: I was organized in a short time. Desperate to get out, and severely limited by the fact that it is not allowed to hike alone, I decided to walk the road back to the Nyungwe Park - Gisakura lies just outside the border.
Trail cut through one of the tea plantations near Gisakura

Chimpanzee tracking
You notice their proximity when you hear their loud calls, and then, suddenly, you spot them, much closer than you think. But they are constantly on the move in the dense forest, and hard to spot.
When I woke up at 4.30am that morning, I was immediately thrilled: I was off to track chimpanzees! I also realized that it wasn't even sure I was going at all: when I found out the previous evening that even if I would rent a private vehicle, I would still be tracking the chimps with two couples, which made me decide not to dish out the money for the one hour drive. Fortunately, the friendly couple staying at the same guesthouse offered me one of the empty seats on their good old Landrover, and when we drove off, it was still pitch dark. To my surprise, we drove away from Nyungwe National Park, and I at once realized we were headed for Cyamudongo Park, a tiny annex of big Nyungwe. I hoped that going to the small park would increase our chances of spotting chimps, as I had read that there is no guarantee at all to see them. When light finally seeped through, we were surrounded by fog, making the hilly landscape dotted with trees look mysterious. We continued to pass small villages and people already up to work the land, which surprised me, as I had thought the chimps would live in a more isolated spot. The last stretch was in a pretty bad condition; our driver showed his skills by steering us safely over the muddy track. When our driver parked the car, our guide gave us walking sticks, and we were off on the trail leading into Cyamudongo Park.
Chimpanzee sitting on the forest floor of Cyamudongo, not wanting to show his face

Isumo waterfall trail
Departing from Gisakura, you can take a trail through the tea plantations, ending up in the rainforest where you can spot monkeys if you are lucky, and hike on to reach a powerful waterfall at the very end of the trail.
After the exciting chimp-tracking of the morning, and a short rest where I finally had the chance to eat something, I was already on my way on a second excursion with a different guide. Our hike started through the tea plantations I had already seen the day before, but I noticed that there now were many people picking tea leaves: the day before had been Sunday. The sun was shining on the rolling hills around us, making the green tea plants stand out. We regularly stopped to enjoy the sweeping views over the hills, to the forest further away. From our viewpoint, it was easy to see how the rainforest had been cut to be replaced by the tea plantations. We were descending, sometimes following zig-zags, until we entered the forest, seemingly entering a different world. No more views, but all the more sounds around us.
Rapids downstream from the main waterfall

Akagera National Park
A park still in recovery, Akagera National Park again has the Big Five, offers the thrill of safari in a landscape of lakes, swamps, savanna and hills in the eastern part of Rwanda.
We are on our way to Akagera too late, as the car rental company doesn't allow us to take a SUV into the park, and demands we should use a real fourwheeldrive. The drive to the east from Kigali turns out to be a colourful one, with many cyclists carrying crazy loads of bananas and other goods. We quickly register in the park, leave our stuff in our room in a lodge, and are on our way for a game drive with a guide. He directs me where to go, while keeping his eyes out for wildlife. Meanwhile, he tells us how the park suffered badly in the aftermath of the genocide in the mid-1990s, when many animals were killed and the area was used by farmers. The park has been re-established, a fence has been built, the east side is guarded (it forms the border with Tanzania), and species have been re-introduced. This means that Akagera again offers the famous Big Five: elephant, buffalo, rhino, leopard and liion.
One of the elephants in Akagera National Park

Nyamirambo community
A bustling district in Kigali, Nyamirambo is also the site of a great initiative where women work to improve their living conditions and make a positive contribution to their community.
After having driven around Akagera National Park in search of wildlife, we are back in the Rwandan capital for something completely different. We have our eyes set on visiting a project run by women, and a short motorbike ride takes us straight to the centre. Local women have started a project which provides education for women, which empowers them, which gives them opportunities to start their own business, and gives jobs to some. Moreover, they fight discrimination, gender-related violence and inequality. We are welcomed in their beautiful shop, and have a good look at all the colourful and creative souvenirs for sale. Then, we walk to the library next door, and get a briefing about our visit. We hear about the history, how women took their destiny in their own hands, and how they strive to improve the living conditions of women in their neighbourhood.
Wall in Nyamirambo with Ubumuntu, or Humanity, painted on it

Belgian Peacekeepers memorial
A sobering sight in Kigali is the Belgian Peacekeepers memorial, which not only is shocking because the bullet marks are still visible in the wall, but also because of the explanatory boards inside.
We have seen the Genocide Memorial the day before, which is a must-see and a place that cannot leave any human untouched. We see many more places in Kigali, the pleasant capital of Rwanda. On our last day, we decide to visit the memorial for the Belgian peacekeepers. It lies in the middle of the city, in a quiet neighbourhood. But as soon as we step inside the compound, we are taken to a different world with a different feel. The wall of the low building is riddled with bullet holes. A Rwandan guard welcomes us, and takes us inside. It turns out that the building houses a small museum. It gives an explanation of the events that happened here, and puts them into the perspective of the horribly black period of Rwanda in 1994. It is a chilling account of the beginning of one of the most terrible periods in our recent history.
The building in which the Belgian peacekeepers were killed in 1994 are still full of bulletholes

Pictures from São Tomé and Príncipe

Santo Antonio
The tiny capital city of Príncipe island, Santo Antonio has a friendly and laid-back atmosphere, and with a backdrop of rainforest lying down from characteristic volcanic peaks, quite attractive, too.
When we arrived in São Tomé, we heard that the morning flight of the next day was fully booked. We still preferred to leave the next day, and thanks to our welcoming host and honorary consul, found out that there would be a cargo boat leaving the next afternoon. When we took a look the next morning, the boat was nowhere near full, but the problem was that our names were not on the passenger list. The boat was supposed to leave five hours later, and it surprised me that this would be a problem in Africa. It turned out that accidents with other boats (my brand new travel guide said that one of the two ships that used to sail between São Tomé and Príncipe sank, while the other exploded) had finally resulted in stricter safety measures. When we came back after a couple of hours, and the names of the passenger list were checked by an official, our names were announced as well, and so it was we stepped aboard the vessel that was built and had sailed in Germany. We watched the sun setting the sky aflame, and were offered to lie on two benches downstairs where we slept more than we had expected. When daylight was back, we saw the jagged mountains of the island of Príncipe sticking right into the low lying clouds, but still waited for a long time before docking, making the sailing time add up to fourteen hours.
Silhouet of Nossa Senhora da Conceição church at sunset over Santo Antonio

Belo Monte hike
One of the former plantations in the northeast of Principe, Belo Monte is the gateway to the most famous Banana beach of the island, as well as an adjacent beach with fishing village.
Our first walk on the tropical island of Principe was to the old plantation of Belo Monte in the northeast. The weather seemed to clear after our arrival on the island, and when we walked out of town, up the steep road from the small port, we soon started to sweat it out under the tall trees, preventing any winds to reach us and cool us down. We stopped regularly to inspect some of the beautiful flowers, and sooner than expected, reached the turnoff where we took a right. To my surprise, the road was asphalted a long way, through a village, and beyond. There were many attractive wooden houses on both sides. When we finally reached the end of the tarmac, the road was still OK to walk fairly easily. When we passed the tiled indicator sign officially marking the border of the Belo Monte estate, it gave the impression we were getting close, but it was still a fair walk to the real gate.
Deserted Praia Cajù

Sundy
A great walk on a track through the rainforest brings you to what once was the largest plantation of Príncipe island; a short walk down to a beach with a lovely fishing village.
While having breakfast, we decide that the plan for the day is to rent a motorbike and go to the largest plantation of Príncipe island, Sundy, in the northwest. There are plenty of motorbikes around Santo Antonio, and it turns out that you can rent one near the small market. We ask around for a fair price before heading there. I myself am sure I cannot drive a motorbike; my only experience with motorized cycles is on a scooter in Italy, but my travel companion claims she is able to steer us over the roads. Then, when we have a closer look at one, she realizes that it looks a bit more complicated than the motorbikes she once drove. She goes for a test ride with the owner, and when they come back, I see him shake his head, and know we are in for another long walk. A pickup truck offers us a ride to the crossroads, which means we don't have to climb the steep road out of Santo Antonio again. Right after the turnoff, the road becomes a dirt track, and we still have to walk uphill. A car passes, stops a little further on, and out comes the president of the island. It is election time, and Agriculture Day, so he is up for a happening, but makes time for a short chat with us. A most amiable man, and we are not surprised when, the following days, people turn out to be very happy with him.
The old hospital of Sundy, which lies in ruins in the inside
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/sundy.html

Pico Papagaio
The Pico Papagaio is just begging to be climbed, and from the city of Santo Antonio, the climb can surely be done, even though it is steep and muddy, sees a lot of rain, and views from the top are not guaranteed.
Ever since its peak appeared before me on that first day of my stay on the island of Príncipe, I wanted to climb it. One morning, which started out sunny, looked like the perfect time to scale the pinnacle-shaped peak. I walk the road to Porto Real, which first climbs gradually, then more steeply. At the end, it is a potholed road, and when I reach a turnoff to the right and see the peak to my left, I am happy to see a local guy come out of the bush. He tells me to go ahead, and then turn left, and go straight to the top. That sounds easy: though I had read that taking a guide is necessary to climb to Pico Papagaio, I prefer to do it alone. I find a dirt track, which leads west, but which slowly deteriorates, until I have to wrestle myself through thick vegetation. After a while, I can see the Pico straight above me: I now am on its western side. But there is no trail to be seen, and I realize that this cannot be the right way. With some difficulty, I find my way back to the track, cross what looks like a trail, but also this one strangely ends in the middle of nowhere. I now decide to make my way back to Porto Real. At the square, men are making furniture, and when I ask them about climbing the Pico Papagaio, they ask me to wait. After a while, a pickup truck arrives, and the men call out at the passengers in the back. A strong looking young man with a chicken and a machete in his hands, and boots on his legs, jumps out and asks me to wait. When he comes back, he summons me to follow him, and we walk the other way.
Clouds whirling around Pico Papagaio

Bom Bom Island
Attached to the island of Principe by a wooden bridge, Bom Bom island now is entirely part of the resort of the same name, but worth the walk nonetheless for the beauty of the landscape.
It is election time during our visit to Príncipe island, and life is as bustling as it probably gets on this quiet island. Our journey by boat had been an adventure, but the timing for the return is unclear, and we see no boat in harbour. Apart from that, going to São Tomé supposedly is against the waves, and thus a wilder ride. We decide to fly back, but that's easier said than done. There is no office of STP Airways, so we ask around. We get a mixed bag of answers: there are two flights a day because of election time, there is only one, there is only a morning flight, there are only flights in the afternoon, flights are full, there is always space - it is not easy to understand how this works. An expat calls the number of the person responsible for the airline, but he is not on the island and cannot be reached. The night before we hope to leave, the French teacher especially comes to our place (the old peoople's home), to tell us that he has found out through a reliable source that there will be two flights. We decide to believe him, and charter two motorbikes the next day to take us to the airport.
Wooden bridge connecting Príncipe to Bom Bom Island

Southern São Tomé
A fishing village at the southern tip of São Tomé island, Porto Alegre has a lot to offer in the neighbouring area, among which a mangrove forest, and beautiful deserted beaches.
After our adventures on Principe island, it is time to explore São Tomé itself. Even though it is possible to move around the island in public transportation, we decide to rent a car, which enables us to explore the island more efficiently, and visit some out-of-the-way places. Our first goal is the far south of the island. Even though the distance is not big, the drive still takes a couple of hours, because of all the curves and bends around the mountains. It is a great drive on a surprisingly good and quiet road, with picturesque villages, beaches, viewpoints, and the highlight of the entire east coast: the Cao Grande, a peculiarly shaped pinnacle sticking more than 600 metres out of the landscape, and a clear reminder that the origin of this island is volcanic. We drive through cacao plantations, and when we finally reach Porto Alegre, we are at the end of the road. We drive through the big fishing village, on a dirt track, which gets pretty bumpy on our way to Praia Jalé. Before we arrive, we see Ilhéu das Rolas, the tiny island that lies exactly on the equator.
Sailing through the mangrove forest by pirogue

Cascata Angolar
Not your regular hike in the mountains: going up to the Angolar waterfall is a circuit on the western slopes of Pico São Tomé, involving walking through low tunnels used to channel water to the nearby hydro-electric power plant.
While staying at one of the many enjoyable places of the island at the western coast of São Tomé, we were considering all options, and picked a hike to the Angolar waterfall. In the morning, a friendly guide makes sure we are properly dressed, and off we go. First, a short drive up the mountain. We feel a little excited: this is not going to be an ordinary hike. We are supposed to make our way through seven tunnels, in which it is said to be dark, so we have our torches with us. We drive quite a while up the mountain, on a beautiful old road, paved with stones. After we park at a bend, we get ready, and the first part of the trail is easy enough, through tropical rainforest with impressive trees, wild cocoa, ferns, flowers, and birds.
One of the tunnels and bridge on the Cascata Angolar hike

Roça Monteforte
One of the cocoa plantations still in full use in São Tomé, Roça Monteforte offers insight into the workings of a cocoa community working hard to sell their produce to the world market.
After the exciting hike on the slopes of São Tomé mountain in the morning, we decide to head south and see some more of the western side of the island. Our first stop is Roça Monteforte, an old, and still functioning, cocoa plantation. Shortly after leaving the main road and driving up a steep track, we arrive at an open space, where we find what looks like a plaza on our left. In a horseshoe-shape, white colonial buildings with red roofs are built around the plaza. On the other side, we see a much more modern small school, and our presence of course attracts the attention of people in the Roça. Kids surround us, just out of curiosity, and walk with us as a young man takes us on an improvised tour of the plantation.
The white colonial buildings of Roça Monteforte

Lago Amelia
An ancient volcanic crater is now covered in a dense tropical vegetation, while you can walk on a spongy grass lying on the crater lake which you reach after a muddy hike up from the Jardim Botanico.
When we drive the last stretch of road up the mountains towards Bom Sucesso, we take a turn to visit the São Nicolãu waterfall. It has started to rain badly - only that same morning, we left the west coast which had not seen rain for months. Even on small São Tomé island, there are a lot of different climates. Four girls stand at the roadside, soaked: we give them a ride to their small village, before making a brief stop at the waterfall; at the end of the dry season, it is not spectacular. We drive further up to Bom Sucesso, and while it had seemed the rain was getting less, it is raining hard when we arrive at a small building. It is open, a machete is standing against a wall, but no one is in. We are wondering what to do, and when someone shows up, he tells us up front that the rain will probably not stop any time soon. We decide to first do a tour of the Botanic Gardens, directly behind the building, to finally have some explanation of all the tropical flowers we have seen on the island.
Clouds looming over Lago Amelia

Santomean people
Their islands are beautiful and may feel like paradise, and the Santomean people themselves are as beautiful and genuinely welcoming as the islands they live on.
We have been looking forward to visiting São Tomé and Príncipe for a few years already - it seems like an exotic destination, almost completely unknown (before going, friends looked with a puzzled stare, and guessed it was located in the Caribbean, or Pacific), and we have no real imagine to match. Our minds are empty, and that is the best way to travel - we are ready to be surprised. On our flight to São Tomé, we try to spot the Santomean people; besides the looks of the countryside and the sea, we are curious about its inhabitants. Soon enough, we are welcomed by them, already at the airport. Big smiles, and curious faces: with a lack of mass-tourism, we feel they are wondering about us as much as the other way around.
Women in the streets of São Tomé

Pictures from Senegal

Ile de Gorée
A small islet off the coast of Dakar, Ile de Gorée is a great escape from the city: here, you can find small museums, old houses, sandy streets with flowers instead of traffic, artsy bunkers, small beaches - and more!
When Dakar was on my travel plans, I looked forward to going back to Ile de Gorée. It had been around 25 years since my last visit, and I had good memories on the small island off the coast of Dakar. I had some old pictures, but most of the images where in my mind. So, when I arrived at the harbour of Dakar where the boat to the island leaves from, I was excited - but I also had a feeling of hesitation. Sometimes, it is not good to go back to places where you have good memories; you might be in for a disappointment. Nothing stays the same, and some places change for the worst. For starters, the modern and clean terminal building the boat leaves from, looked totally unfamiliar, and un-African. I had to leave my bag behind, bought a return ticket, and waited inside the air-conditioned hall where I even found a wifi signal. The boat leaves regularly, and I did not have to wait long before the doors opened. When I approached the boat, I had my first déjà-vu: it was still the same boat I had used decades earlier. I made sure I was near the bow of the boat, which left almost precisely on time, and full with day-trippers, both foreigners and Senegalese. Immediately after leaving the harbour, Ile de Gorée was visible straight ahead of us - and close by.
Looking out over the bay of Gorée Island from the citadel on the north side of the island

Ziguinchor
This decaying and dusty town on the southern banks of the Casamance river breathes a relaxed atmosphere welcoming the visitor, with active souvenir sellers to boot.
It had been a long ride from Dakar, that started well before sunrise, before my shared taxi pulled into the road station of Ziguinchor. Before starting to explore the town, however, I wanted to try to get my visa for Guinea Bissau arranged; one taxi ride to the consul's home, and less than five minutes waiting for the representative of the small southern neighbour, dressed in a simple white shirt, was all it took for yet another visa in my passport. I left my stuff at a simple hotel, and when I walked out, it was at that time of the day when warm light fills the streets. Walking the sandy streets, I soon felt welcome, as many people smiled at me, waved, and greeted me politely.
One of the remarkable older buildings in the centre of the city

Saint Louis Senegal
Former capital of French colonial West Africa, Saint Louis is a remarkably calm, peaceful city with plenty of attractive buildings to be discovered after you cross the remarkable Pont Faidherbe.
Originally, I had wanted to go straight from Dakar to Nouakchott in Mauritania, but when I studied Saint Louis, I soon realized that it deserved a stopover. After getting my visa for Mauritania on a rainy morning in Dakar, I took a sept-place, one of the many old Peugeot 504's at the Pompiers bus station in the Senegalese capital, to the north. The road was pretty good, and the drive was fast; it was dark when we arrived at the bus station of Saint Louis, which is inconveniently located far south of the city. Some hard negotiating was necessary to get a reasonable price for a taxi, and when I was dropped at the doorstep of my hostel in the old part of town, I immediately felt a relaxed atmosphere. People were sitting on the sidewalk, chatting, some playing music; when I dropped my stuff and walked the streets in search of a restaurant for a late dinner, my feeling was confirmed. People greeted me, smiled, and the girl in the restaurant turned out to be very friendly, too. I was looking forward to my morning walk in the former capital city.
Faidherbe bridge in the early morning

Pictures from Seychelles

Seychelles Fishing
On the Seychelles, as in other island nations, fish is an important ingredient in the national cuisine. You can see fishermen in action anywhere you go.
It is difficult not to meet fishermen in the Seychelles. You can see them in action everywhere, almost any time of the day. Walking around on of the islands, enjoying the views of the sea, basking on a beach in the sun: whatever you do, you come across them. The seas are abundant with fish, and it must not be difficult to catch fish here. As soon as you put on a mask and start to snorkel or dive, you are amazed at the amount of fish in all sizes and colours. From the beach, you can often see them jump out of the water.
Catching fish by hand, La Digue

Nid d'Aigle
A bit of a hike brings you to Nid d'Aigle, the top of La Digue, where a trail runs along the ridge that gives views over the island, as well as neighbouring islands like Praslin and Felicité.
Even though I had been to La Digue before, and even though I am a keen hiker, I had not been to Nid d'Aigle on my first visit. On my second visit, I make sure it is high on my list. One morning, I take a bike so I can cycle to the trailhead. The bike is old and rusty, the gears don't work properly, and quite soon, despite putting all the power I have on my pedals, I need to get off the bike on the steep road. I push the bike up the rest of the road. At the end, it is so steep that I nearly slip. I lock it to a pole, and start walking up the trail. Soon, the trail also gets steep, so much so that there are ladders to work my way up. Even though I made sure to go very early in the morning, I am sweating heavily on my way to the top. The vegetation also means that there are not many views to be enjoyed.
Near Nid d'Aigle, at 333 metres the highest point of La Digue island

Seychelles beaches
Jagged granite rock formations make every beach unique, and the fine, white sand make them perfect for relaxation: Seychelles is famous for its beautiful beaches, and that fame is well deserved.
My first visit to Seychelles, in the midst of the dry season, had been a bit of a disappointment, as we had a lot of rain. Still, the beauty of the beaches was obvious. I was looking forward to seeing them with more sunshine on a second visit, almost twenty years later. As we land in the dark of night, we see that the platform is soaking wet and it is raining hard. We have to wait a while before we can take the Cat Cocos catamaran: Covid restrictions have reduced the number of sailings. Meanwhile, we explore Mahé island, and walk on several of its beaches. Alas, the sky is overcast, and it rains every now and then. Beaches just don't look as attractive under a grey sky. Later in the afternoon, a choppy ride brings us to La Digue. We explore the island by foot and on bicycle. The small island is ringed by beaches, one more beautiful than the next. We cycle to the north, passing several smaller beaches.
Anse Lazio beach on the west side of Praslin island

Schooner
While most people nowadays travel between the islands by fast catamaran, it is also possible to catch a schooner.
The Seychelles lie in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and the main islands are linked by fast catamarans and flights carried out by small aircraft. The traditional way to travel from one island to the other is, however, by schooner. These are small boats that nowadays mostly carry cargo, but they do also take passengers. It is not known by everyone, and on the way from Mahé to Praslin Island, we were refused passages because the boat had to carry gas, and for security reasons no passengers were accepted.
Schooner at sea

Vallée de Mai
The largest nut of our planet, the coco de mer is endemic to the island of Praslin, and walking through the Vallée de Mai reserve is the perfect way to learn more about these incredible trees and their curiously shaped fruits.
On my first visit to the Vallée de Mai, I walked around under pouring rain. Back then, it was just possible to see the tall trees and their enormous fruits. On my second visit, we directly head from the harbour up the road to the entrance of the Vallée de Mai Nature Reserve. The weather is fine, and after paying a hefty entrance fee (I don't remember paying that much on my first visit), we stop at a table near the entrance. It has a collection of coco de mer, the nut which has made the palm trees here famous. After their beaches, Seychelles is mostly known for these fruits. Not just because they are the largest nuts on the planet, but also because of their shape. They have a striking resemblance of a female bottom, and are also called love nuts. For this reason, it has also been called the forbidden fruit. And yes, the resemblance is undeniable. Some have even believed that Vallée de Mai was the veeritable Garden of Eden. When we lift one of the nut for a picture, we note how heavy it is. In fact, they can weigh up to 30kg.
Bunch of coco de mer nuts in a female tree in Vallée de Mai

Cousin island
Cousin is a paradise for birds and other animals who are prolific here ever since the entire island has been turned into a nature reserve. Even a short walk is enough to see a wide variety of creatures big and small, terrestrial and aerial.
The boat ride gives us good views of the coastline of Praslin, and when we reach the northwestern shore, the captain directs our boat towards a small island. We are on our way to Cousin, one of the small islands lying around Praslin. It used to be a coconut plantation, but was bought in 1968 by a bird organisation. The coconut trees were removed, the native vegetation regenerated, turning the island into a haven for many types of birds. Some of them, like the Seychelles warbler, were on the brink of extinction. They bounced back and now live in healthier numbers on Cousin and a few other islands. We are picked up by a dingy and land on the dazzling white beach that rises steeply from the turquoise waters of the Indian Ocean. The air is filled with birds, and we hear birds all around us. After a short wait in the shelter, we head off with a guide.
Lesser noddy on Cousin island

Curieuse island
Also called the Red Island because of the colour of its soil, Curieuse island is a protected reserve with granite boulders scattered around, tortoises, coco de mer trees, a mangrove swamp, and some ruins of a former settlement.
We made a short stop at Curieuse Island on our way to Cousin Island, to drop off the cook and all the ingredients for our lunch. After our visit to Cousin, we headed back to Curieuse. On the way, we cruised close to the coastline to see some of the splendid beaches of Praslin from the sea. As we slowly approach Curieuse, a heavy rain starts to fall from the sky. When it is my turn to get off our boat, I have my camera backpack on me, as well as two pairs of shoes. My left hand slips from the wet hold, my feet are not firmly placed on the small foothold, and a wave pushes the boat forward. I fall forward, face down into the thick seaweed. I had imagined my arrival on this tropical island a little more exotic than being drenched and covered in seaweed. It turns out that we have a very capable cook and we enjoy a tasty lunch at the station while the rain hammers the corrugated roof.
Granite boulders and tropical vegetation on Curieuse island

Pictures from Sierra Leone

Freetown
Dramatically perched between rolling hills and the mighty Atlantic Ocean, Freetown is a city of contrasts, of bustling markets, of seductive beaches, of colourful people and colonial buildings.
My first visit to Sierra Leone had become a vague memory. I had been there before the civil war of the 1990s, and had only visited Freetown and surroundings. It was therefore time to return, refresh my memory, and see more of the country. After a quite smooth arrival at the modern airport, I buy a ticket for the speedboat to Aberdeen. Memories of an adventure of a failed boat ride with my colleagues in the dark of night 35 years earlier come to mind. After a smooth ride, I step off the ferry, and walk to a cosy hostel. The next morning, after changing money on the black market, I start exploring the city in search of old memories.
One of the many busy streets in Freetown

National Railway Museum
One of those unexpected jewels in the crown of Freetown, the Railway Museum offers a step back in time, with elegant carriages, powerful locomotives, and memorabilia of the former railways of Sierra Leone.
When I was considering which sights to see in Freetown, I saw the Railway Museum as one of the unexpected options. After walking the city to enjoy its busy streets, the colourful markets, the beaches and the views, I decided to take a kekeh (motorised tricycle) towards Cline Town. I got stuck in traffic, and ended up walking much of the way. Just before reaching the museum, I passed a colourful street with murals, and people asking me for their picture. I bought a drink after walking in the heat before reaching the museum itself. A friendly welcome awaited me, and a kind guy took me on a tour through the museum.
Carriages in a row inside the railway museum

Bunce Island
A must-see to better understand Sierra Leone, a visit to Bunce Island gives you insight in the slave trade, and the long-lasting impact on the country and the region.
While most slave trading posts on the coast of West Africa are easily reachable, reaching the major such place in Sierra Leone, Bunce Island, is a little more complicated. We end up going to the harbour near Cline Town one Sunday morning, wait for a little while before walking down to the colourful local wooden boats. We are a fine group of foreigners from Europe and Nigeria, and are joined by a group of young students. The latter get off on Tasso Island, while we continue a little more upstream Tagrin Bay. A long island, completely overgrown with tropical trees, rises a little further east: Bunce Island. From this distance, the island looks like a paradisiacal, uninhabited tropical island, but we know better and prepare for a step back in a tragic part of human history.
Tree roots overgrowing ruined walls on Bunce Island

Tiwai Island
An area packed with enormous trees, eleven primates, and a multitude of birds and other wildlife, Tiwai Island also offers tranquillity and immersion into tropical nature.
There are several options for those who want to immerse themselves in nature in Sierra Leone, and I opted for Tiwai Island: remote enough to really be away from it all, yet accessible enough to reach within a day from Freetown. A kekeh brings me to the eastern bus station of the city, where I quickly buy my ticket for the bus to Bo. It takes close to two hours for the bus to fill, but then the going is pretty smooth. In Bo, I find a shared taxi, and after some hassle about paying for my bag, I buy a second seat instead for just a little more. In Potoru, I jump on the back of a motorbike, and we drive on dirt tracks to the very end. A small boat awaits me, and without much ado, takes me across the Moa river. A short walk then brings me to the encampment of Tiwai Island: a cluster of one storey buildings. I study the leaflets around, and take one of the trails through the wilderness. While I hear animals everywhere, it is hard to spot them in the thick foliage.
Tropical tranquillity on Moa river, which floats around Tiwai Island

Pictures from Somalia

Mogadishu lighthouse
One of the landmark buildings of Mogadishu, the lighthouse now is yet another completely ruined building, overlooking the city and a small beach where kids come to play and where fishermen dock their boats.
It is one of the landmark buildings of Mogadishu, even after it has been largely reduced to ruins during the war: the lighthouse of the city. So much so, that it is one of the first stops on our visit to the capital. After we get off the car, one of the armed guards opens a panel in a wall, and we step inside a compound. It is clear that these were once beautiful buildings; if you look carefully, you can still see details of decorations on the walls. Like so many others in Mogadishu, these buildings did not survive the war. Walking past them, where small boats are haphazardly lying on the ground, we reach the hexagonal tower. It lies at a natural strategic point, and therefore saw heavy fighting in the war.
View of the small beach with the lighthouse at the end

Mogadishu cathedral
Once one of the largest and most beautiful cathedrals of Africa, it now lies in ruins after it was deliberately destroyed, as one of the grim reminders of a brutal war that wrecked Mogadishu.
Several years before the civil war in Somalia effectively started, Salvatore Colombo, the Italian bishop of Somalia, was killed while giving mass in the cathedral of Mogadishu in 1989, considered one of the events marking the path to civil war. At the time, it was one of the largest, and most beautiful, cathedrals of all of Africa, built by the Italians in 1928 in Gothic style, with the Cefalù cathedral as an example. Its imposing size proved an insurmountable handicap once the war had started. At first, it was severely damaged during the fighting in the 1990s, and then, when the Islamists were in control of Mogadishu, it was purposely bombed to little more than the ruins that remain today.
Badly damaged detail of a decoration of St Francis in the badly damaged cathedral

Black Hawk Down site
Of the fierce battle between coalition forces and Somali fighters, known as Black Hawk Down, all that remains are wrecked armoured personnel carriers, slowly rusting away on a dusty corner in Mogadishu.
We have been driving on the outskirts of the city for a little while, and seen some wrecks of military vehicles on the roadside. Together with the many ruined buildings in Mogadishu, it is hardly surprising to see them: they are just another reminder of the long war that ravaged the country for more than twenty years. When we stop at a corner, I see three wrecks of armoured personnel carriers, one on top of the other. We get off, and my guide tells me that this is the Black Hawk Down site, named after the fierce Battle of Mogadishu that took place back in October 1993, between UNOSOM forces consisting of US, Malaysian and Pakistani military, against the Al Qaeda-related Somali National Alliance.
Goats walking past the armoured personnel carriers

Fakr ad-Din mosque
Once you find it, the small 13th century Fakr ad-Din mosque is a unique gem of Muslim architecture and still has some remarkable details, like the hexagonal and round cones on its roof.
With no up-to-date travel guides to the place, information hard to get by, and very few people who have visited recently, preparing my visit to Mogadishu required a fresh approach. Independent travel is impossible, and I found an agency able to organize the logistics, with proposals of the places to visit. I also did some research myself, and came across a drawing of the oldest mosque of the city, Fakr ad-Din, built in 1269 by the first Sultan of the city. I could find no pictures of it, nor the location; but only a black and white drawing, and found texts about it wondering if the mosque had survived the war at all. It only made my desire to try to find it stronger. At least something must have remained of a building of such importance?
The cones of Fakr ad-Din mosque, one round and one hexagonal, are painted light green

Mogadishu Refugee Camp
Just outside Mogadishu, large camps have been built, where refugees from all over Somalia have sought refuge after been driven from their home lands by war.
After visiting a camel farm, where we have some fresh camel milk (which is not as bad as I was afraid it would be), we stop by one of the many refugee camps that can still be found on the outskirts of Mogadishu. The lasting effects of the extended war that has plagued Somalia for decades is not only palpable in the ruins still visible all over the city. While Mogadishu is currently living in a more peaceful time, there are still parts in the country where Al Shabaab rules. The inhabitants of those regions have escaped their homes, trying to survive; they considered Mogadishu a safe haven. As we enter the camp, a group of young boys is sitting on the ground, in the morning sun. It is a quranic school: the boys have narrow wooden slates, on which they have written verses of the holy Islamic book, so they can learn them by heart. Inside, we find a small group of girls in veils. The teacher explains us a little bit about the school; it is the only type of education these kids will receive. The boys are actually on their way to have breakfast, but a few of them are invited to stand up, step forward, and recite what they have just learned, in a soft voice.
View of the refugee camp with make-shift tents

Jazeera Beach
A spot of tranquillity south of the city, Jazeera beach has white sand, a small fishing village, and a rocky island with an old mosque just off the coast.
What better to do on a hot afternoon than to drive south of Mogadishu, and head to the beach? On the way on the dirt road, we pass the wreck of an airplane that was shot by Al Shabaab just before landing, carrying African Union soldiers. The wreck has been taken apart; the useful elements have been removed, and it takes a second look before you start to recognize parts of the fuselage, the wings, and the cabin. Yet another reminder how important, and fragile, safety is. We see rows of orange sand dunes, pass some man-made salt pans, before we arrive at the sea. After we walk through a restaurant, which has a feel it has not been used in a while, we step on a beach of white sand.
The small rocky islet with old white mosque in swimming distance from the beach of Jazeera

Mogadishu qat market
The daily arrival of fresh qat at the market of Mogadishu sees a lot of frantic activity, before the qat gets traded and finds its way to the users all over the city, and around.
We have seen stalls selling qat at several places around the city, but we are now parked in a street leading to the main qat market of Mogadishu and, inevitably, the entire country. Just when I start wondering why the driver has left the car, and the guide is on the phone, a big truck with guys standing on its load passes by. I want to get out, but for the first time, one of the armed guards in the back of our pick-up truck pushes me back in; apparently, it is not safe. The daily cargo plane from Kenya has landed, and its cargo is fresh qat. More trucks pass by, and minivans with women, plus a crowd of people with bags made of cloth on their back. My guide tells me that they contain money.
People carrying qat from the trucks to the market stalls

Mogadishu old city
Relatively unscarred by the war, the old city of Mogadishu is a maze of streets and alleys, old houses, alive with people and a market.
After my arrival in Mogadishu, we leave the secure hotel for a first tour around the city, before midday prayers. I am curious, and not sure what to expect. There are reports of regular attacks, I am accompanied by four armed guards, and I know that I will not be able to move around as freely as I am used to. My eyes are glued to the window of the car as we head towards the old part of the city. Our very first stop is on the waterfront. My guide invites me to go out, and when I do, two of the four guards are already on either side of the car, closely inspecting the surroundings. It immediately gives me confidence, and takes away any nervous feelings I might have: my safety is in their hands, and I have no choice but to trust them.
People at the market in the old city of Mogadishu

Mogadishu ruins
It is impossible to drive the streets of Mogadishu without seeing the grim reminders of years of heavy fighting: once beautiful buildings have been reduced to rubble.
Before leaving for Mogadishu, I only had a vague notion of what I was going to see, or what I could expect. The only recurring visions were ruined buildings - inevitable after two decades of civil war and battles for control over the city. Even though the city is said to be in reconstruction mode since 2011, I still saw a lot of destruction. It is said that the city was once beautiful, dubbed the White Pearl of the Indian Ocean, and with the Italians as colonizers, I am sure it must have been. But it does not take long after starting to explore the city, before you see buildings that are totally wrecked. Many are riddled with bullet holes, but there are many more where only parts of the walls are still standing. Much of the collapsed walls and ceilings are still there. While driving around, as a visitor, it is impossible to know what you are actually seeing, and what the history is.
People walking past ruins in the city of Mogadishu

Pictures from South Africa

Thomas T. Tucker trail
Among the trails that can be done in the Cape of Good Hope Nature Reserve, the Thomas T. Tucker trail is a very interesting choice, as it offers a beachwalk, two shipwrecks, and a trail going through the interior.
My first try to get to Olifantsbos was late in a very rainy, windy and cold afternoon, when it was already getting dark. Walking any trail was not really an option, but somehow I was attracted to this corner of the Cape of Good Hope Nature Reserve, and returned the next day, with much improved weather conditions. I parked the car, and started walking the trail. It soon led me to the beach, and after some rock-hopping, I started walking some soft, white sand in which my feet sank pretty deep. The waves were as wild as they can get at this side of the nature reserve, and they filled they air with that pleasant smell of sea and salt. Birds were screaming all around me, the strong wind was blowing white foam over the beach ahead of me, and I started to like this trail more and more as I walked on.
Thomas T. Tucker shipwreck slowly eaten away by the waves

Robben Island
Famous mostly for being the place where Nelson Mandela spent most of his time in prison during the apartheid years, Robben Island nowadays mostly is of interest for visitors who want to know more about its history.
It had not been easy to secure a place on the boat to Robben Island, as the weather had prevented me from going, and then the boat appeared to be fully booked. So, when I was finally sailing north on the modern catamaran, I was happy I made it. While I somehow had expected a low-profile boat trip to the former prison island, I was surprised to find a well-organized modern tour organization taking care of the many visitors. Also, the size of the island took me by surprise: where I had thought Robben Island to be rather small, several buses were waiting for us upon arrival and took us on a tour around the island. Contrary to what I imagined beforehand, Robben Island is inhabited nowadays, and has a functional living community. During our tour around the island, we could unfortunately never disembark, and I realized once more how much I dislike group tours where you are restricted in your freedom to move at your own speed. We saw the village, the leper cemetery, the place where Robert Sobukwe was kept in solitary confinement for six years, the lime quarry where prisoners were forced to work, the red and white lighthouse of Robben Island, before we arrived at the former prison of the island.
The courtyard where Mandela and others could take fresh air

Cape Point
Two spectacular and beautiful capes are within an easy day trip from Cape Town and offer wild waves crushing on the rocky shores, sweeping views over the surrounding ocean, two lighthouses, and beaches.
When I got out of the car at the entrance of Cape of Good Hope Nature Reserve to get a ticket, I noticed a very strong wind. The weather was good, a friendly sun was trying to warm up the earth, even though it was winter here in the southern hemisphere. As I was driving towards the southern tip of this peninsula, clouds were sailing in across the sky. When I eventually walked up from the parking lot to the old lighthouse, the sky was getting always darker. It was only when I reached the lighthouse, that I realized the full force of the wind blowing in full force around me. The views were breathtaking - the sky and the horizon merged into each other in a peculiar way, and I could see several patches of rain showers coming down into the Atlantic. Sunlight was seeping through some openings in the threatening sky, and the filtered light falling on the wild waves far below only added to the magnificence of the scene.
Rainbow seen from Cape Point

Bo-Kaap
One of the oldest and most colourful neighbourhoods of Cape Town, Bo-Kaap has its very own look and feel with pastel coloured houses, cobble stone streets, and fine views towards Table Mountain and Signal Hill.
After turning right on Buitengracht street, the changes were obvious. The busy tree-lined asphalt road, with businessmen crossing the street on their way to the office, elegantly dressed women driving flashy cars gave way to cobble-stoned streets, century-old low-rise buildings, women with colourful dresses, and small mosques. Furthermore, as the buildings are low in the Bo-Kaap neighbourhood, and the area is built against the eastern slopes of Signal Hill, views of Table Moutain, Lion Head and Signal Hill are open from many areas in the Bo-Kaap area.
Detail of houses in Bo-Kaap

Table Mountain
Table Mountain and Cape Town are like two sides of the same coin: it is impossible to imagine one without the other. While you can ascend using a cable car, it is much more rewarding to hike up to the top.
Table Mountain rises almost directly from the Atlantic Ocean, which has several implications. First and foremost, it gives it its dramatic appearance, and makes it stand out in its environment. Secondly, it means that the mountain is often surrounded by clouds, and the climate around and on top of the mountain is extremely unpredictable. The mountain can be hidden from view for days on end, wrapped up in a thick cloud. The first morning I wanted to climb the mountain in plain summer, the mountain was also hiding behind a layer of clouds, and I had to postpone my plan to climb to its summit. Instead, I went for a run on Signal Hill, a lower hill overlooking the City Bowl, the central part of Cape Town. But in the back of my head was my wish to climb Table Mountain or, as it was originally known to the Khoi, the authentic inhabitants of the region, the Hoerikwaggo or Sea Mountain.
Fynbos on the flat surface on top of Table Mountain

Hottentots Holland Nature Reserve
Hiking through fynbos with curious rock formations and sometimes sweeping views, the Hottentots Holland reserve offers a surprising variety of plants and landscapes.
Driving up Sir Lowry pass from the low plains east of Cape Town, we did not realize we were right on the western side of the nature reserve that we had decided to visit that day. At the entrance gate near Nuweberg, the lady at the gate told us no food was available in the park, so we returned to Grabouw to do some shopping. We had to complete a form to get a permit to enter; the lady did not seem to really know what she was talking about, so we guessed that we should be able to do the 11km hike as indicated on the map we bought in four hours. We parked our car on a small spot, took some warm clothes, and were finally off on the Sneeukop Road, a jeep trail leading through the landscape of Hottentots Holland nature reserve.
Vertical rock formations on a hill in Hottentots Holland reserve

Cape Agulhas
At the extreme south of Africa, you can find a marker indicating where oceans meet, a lighthouse with fine views, and a coast with pools and a surf behind constantly breaking on the rocks.
Sunlight was seeping through holes in the sky, making the calm sea surface light up with a background of mountains seemingly floating in the morning air as we drove away from Hermanus, following the coast in a south-east direction. The road unexpectedly turned into a gravel road at the turnoff near Die Dam, where the road took us a little inland, through friendly landscapes of rolling green hills with lonely trees and scattered farms. At Struisbaai, a surprisingly attractive town, we saw the ocean again, and knew we were getting close to our destination. We spotted the bright red and white lighthouse of Agulhas just around the corner, and parked at its feet - we wanted to reach the far south of Africa on foot.
Marking the divide between the Indian and Atlantic Ocean at Cape Agulhas

Arniston
A coastal village with whitewashed cottages and in a setting of sand dunes and the eternal calming sound of the sea surf, Arniston was also the spot where many ships perished.
Driving east from Cape Agulhas, shortcutting on a quite good road through the farmlands, we soon reached Arniston, and drove through the coastal town to find a parking; we wanted to walk the coast to the north to spot the wreck of the Arniston. A bunch of fishermen were sitting near their boats painted in bright yellow, red, blue, and white, and the old lime-washed houses looked particularly pretty. We were not sure our Chinese car would make the bumpy, narrow streets here, and drove around town to enter a little more to the north. Leaving the car at a small park at the seaside, we started off right away, since we were running out of time. Before our eyes, a coastline of sand dunes appeared, with rolling waves approaching the shore.
Waves breaking on the sand dune coast north of Arniston

De Hoop Nature Reserve
Impressive white sand dunes, fynbos vegetation in which you can see wildlife roaming around, and, in the right season, whales right off the sandy and rocky shore can all be seen at De Hoop Reserve.
At the turnoff close to Bredasdorp, we continued our drive on an untarred road, that undulated through the green landscape of rolling hills. Sometimes, the road appeared straight ahead of us, climbing and descending, we saw sheep and cows, farms, and not more than two cars before we had to turn right for De Hoop Nature Reserve. After paying our entrance fees to a friendly guard, the vlei landscape of the western section of De Hoop Nature Reserve opened up before our eyes, with high, white sand dunes dominating at the horizon. The road ahead was clearly visible, we soon spotted an ostrich, which excited us; soon after turning west to the De Hoop, we saw many more ostrich and a variety of antelopes.
The white sand dunes of De Hoop with the fynbos vlei landscape in the foreground

Sterkfontein Caves
The Sterkfontein caves are not only a beautiful cave complex, but they are also one of the richest areas in the world for finds of remains of hominids - hence the name Cradle of Humankind for the region.
When I read about Sterkfontein before going there, I got the impression that it would be possible to see fossils several millions of years old. The drive to get to Sterkfontein is a little more complicated than expected, driving over secondary roads, until we find a clear sign saying Cradle of Humankind. It feels like driving back in time. At the information booth, we learn that there is actually a second site, Maropeng, which is a 15 minute drive away. We are halfway the afternoon, and realize we probably have to choose. After talking to a few compatriots who have visited both sides and who label Maropeng as a Disney-like experience, the decision is quickly taken, and we walk through the small exhibition before our guided tour of this World Heritage site starts.
Torch shining into a translucent stone in the Sterkfontein caves

Lion Park
The highlight of a visit to the Lion Park might well be ... the encounter with a cheetah, in which you can stroke her soft, furry skin, but there is more to see and do, as well (and yes, there are lions, too!).
We arrive on a bright morning at the entrance gate of the lion park, and see a group waiting to leave. We do not come well prepared; visiting the lion park has been a spontaneous decision. I have vague memories of a lion park close to Johannesburg in my head - more than 20 years before. At the information counter, a lady tells us that we can walk with cheetahs, which sounds great. So we sign up; departure is NOW. While we expect to walk, we are told to board a special, caged bus, and after a short drive, we are asked to take the rear seats. The animal trainer steps out, picks up one of the two cheetahs of the park, and to our surprise, she boards the bus, too. It is a weird sight: the fastest land animal on the planet, sitting on the front row of a bus on a bumpy road.
Proud cheetah in the sunshine

Apartheid Museum
From the moment you enter, the Apartheid Museum takes you by the throat, makes you feel the harsh reality of the apartheid system, brushes up your memory of the struggle for change, and makes you leave with a positive feeling.
It so happens that the easiest way to reach the Apartheid Museum is by hop-on hop-off bus (apart from a taxi) and while I never imagined to use them, I now make a tour of Johannesburg before arriving at the museum. My mind goes back a couple of decades, when I decided to visit South Africa from Zimbabwe during the apartheid years, and arrived in Johannesburg in the late evening on a truck with a black driver. South Africa was kind of an international pariah back then, and I had decided I would try to deal only with black Africans, my small way to say no to the apartheid system. Johannesburg is a different city now, just like South Africa is a different country. Or is it? Politically different, yes, but there is still too much poverty.
Apartheid defined at the beginning of the Apartheid Museum

Mandela Capture Site
Close to where Nelson Mandela was arrested in 1962, the Capture Site now houses a museum and a unique memorial to the great leader who managed to lead South Africa from apartheid to democracy.
It was clear that we needed a break on our long drive from Lesotho to eSwatini, and the Capture Site turned out to be the perfect spot. We cross the border just after opening time, and are surprised by a long stretch of a particularly bad gravel road entering South Africa. It takes several more hours over mostly empty roads to reach our destination. When we get out of our car, we see a large group of young South African students seated on the grass. They surely came here for their education. Our primary reason to come here was to see the memorial for Mandela, but it turns out that there is a museum as well. When we enter, we immediately see a replica of the black Austin Westminster car which Mandela was driving, pretending to be a chauffeur. He was captured very close to where the museum now is, and he would be in prison for 27 years until his release in 1990.
Monument of Mandela to the right, and the long walk to freedon with markers on the left

West Coast National Park
A shimmering lagoon, skies thick with seabirds, and wildflowers stretching to the horizon. The West Coast holds far more beauty than its name suggests — and far more than most visitors ever stop long enough to find.
On my way north of Cape Town, I pass by the entrance of West Coast National Park, which has been recommended by a good friend. I turn left, pay the ticket, and start exploring. Driving slowly north, I soon spot white dunes sticking out of the rolling fynbos landscape. A little later, I stop to watch a small group of bontebok antelopes, sitting quietly with their dark chocolate colours. A short ride then takes me to the Atlantic viewpoint. I see rolling waves behind the dunes, and in the hazy distance the contours of Table Mountain. I decide to walk the trail up and down the sand down to the beach. First thing I see is a dead seal, the startled gulls fly away. I walk the beach, enjoy the sound of wavers crashing, Table Mountain is now pretty clear. I have the beach all to myself. But no matter how much I like being here, I turn around and walk back up, to continue my exploration of West Coast NP.

Wupperthal
Tucked into a remote Cederberg valley, Wupperthal feels like a village time deliberately forgot — whitewashed cottages, rooibos in the air, and a story few travellers ever find. Getting there is half the adventure.
While I was researching my visit of the Cederberg area, I came across Wupperthal, a remote village tucked away in the folds of the mountains. After a pleasant night in Paternoster, an attractive town on the coast, I drive straight to Clanwilliam. I do some shopping there, and fill fuel up to the top, as I have understood that now, the rough part starts. To my surprise, the road up Pakhuis Pass is all asphalted, which is already better than I expected. Before I even get to the turnoff to the south, I see a car arrive with a cloud of dust behind it, and I know that I will have to slow down. The views over the barren mountains and valleys are great, and there is virtually no traffic, so it turns out to be an enjoyable ride. The track is dry, so the driving is not too difficult.
The Moravian church of Wiupperthal at one end of the village

Stadsaal Rock Art & Caves
Ancient hands left their mark on these sandstone walls thousands of years ago. Deep in the Cederberg, Stadsaal is where human history whispers quietly from the rock — if you know where to look.
After driving to and visiting Wupperthal, I assume I will have an hour or so to drive further south, to Stadsaal. I start driving the dirt track into the mountains in a small SUV, and after a while, pass a sign saying that 4x4 is recommended. With quite a lot of experience at driving on unpaved roads, and dry conditions, I am confident I'll manage these 38 kilometres to the next crossroads. Added bonus: a waterfall near Eselbank after around ten kilometres. The road starts to climb, with holes in it, and some sketchy parts. Also, it is narrow. But then, it seems a bit better. I think that perhaps when I make it higher up, the road will eventually flatten, and the driving will become easier. Indeed, it seems to do so. But then, I enter an area with thick sand, and make sure not to break, and continue very carefully. Then, there are a few more parts where I have to drive carefully. I now see that I have covered around five kilometres in more than 20 minutes, and realize that at this pace, it will take me almost three hours to cover the distance. Moreover, while I had a little reception in Wupperthal, there is none here. There is no traffic. I am alone. Anything happens, and I get stuck, I am in for a tricky situation. It is clear: I need to abandon plan and take the better road. I drive back all the way to Clanwilliam, then south, and on a gravel road, crossing a mountain pass, passing the village of Algeria, and arrive at the entrance of Stadsaal several hours later.
Rock formations at the end of a dirt track in the Stadsaal area

Wolfberg Arch
A stranger's code, a gate magically opening at dawn, narrow cracks in the rock — and without the right to be there. Getting to Wolfberg Arch turned into far more of an adventure than I'd bargained for.
After my visit of the Stadsaal rock art and caves, it takes some searching for the reception of the hotel and campsite, which turns out be a few kilometres away in Dwarsrivier. When I arrive and ask for the permit required for the hike up Wolfberg Arch the next day, the staff turn out to be outright unhelpful. I already know the permits are only given to groups of minimum three people, but they flatly refuse to make me join another group. I realize that I will not make it: I need to leave early and do a fast climb, and I have no spare day. Cursing myself for not having started my visit of Cederberg here, I head to the campsite recommended by the Swiss lady I met at Stadsaal. We talk, she hears my frustration, and then presents me with an unexpected solution. It turns out that when you buy the permit, you are given a code, which opens the gate leading to the trailhead. Assuming these codes are not changed every day, she sends me a copy of the code from her permit (she did the same hike that morning), rekindling the joy I had before. After an enjoyable dinner, we have an early night: she is tired from the hike, and I need to wake up very early.
The rocky landscape of the Cederberg Mountains from inside the Wolfberg Arch

Pictures from South Sudan

Jebel Kujul
Directly west of the city, Jebel Kujul rises out of the plains on which Juba is built, and after a short climb, offers views in all directions: city, suburbs, river Nile, and mountains in the distance.
After my first cautious explorations of Juba, I end up being directed the wrong way in search of a lodge that supposedly organizes hikes up Jebel Kujul, or so a friendly young guy tells me: the lodge is on the other side of the mountain. Since I am at the foot of the mountain anyway, I ask him if it is safe to walk up. When he replies that it is better to be escorted, I ask him if he wants to join me, and to my surprise, he does. Even though he lives close to the mountain, he has never been to the top, and his shoes are not perfect for the climb. Furthermore, from this side, the climb turns out to be a little harder than I thought beforehand. A bunch of boys joins us on the way up, and when we reach the top at 744 metres, my new-found friend is happy: it seems he almost cannot believe he actually just climbed the mountain he sees from below every day. We enjoy the views, and I also enjoy the freedom I now feel: I can take all the pictures I want, I can wander around the mountain, I can do whatever I want without having to be afraid that someone will apprehend me.
View from the top of Jebel Kujul, looking west

Juba Snapshots
By all accounts, taking pictures in Juba seemed a tricky thing to do, so I treaded carefully and tried to capture the city through snapshots on long walks on its dusty streets, meeting some wonderful people on the way.
Getting the visa for my visit to South Sudan proved more difficult than I had expected, based on information saying that their embassy in Kampala issued them with just a passport, pictures, and the visa fee. Fortunately, with the help of Facebook, friends, and people willing to help swiftly, I had gotten the visa after all. The newest nation on earth, South Sudan gained independence in 2011, but had sank into civil war in 2013. Leafing through the travel guide, the country seemed surprisingly diverse and attractive, but alas: the political situation makes any visit to the interior too unsafe to consider. Furthermore, it means that taking pictures in Juba, the capital, is regarded as highly sensitive. When I walk the tarmac towards the airport building with a handful of other disembarking passengers, I am surrounded by United Nations planes, World Food Program, and Russian cargo jets parked close one next to the other because the apron is limited in size. It reminds me that in parts of this country, people are surviving only by the grace of foreign aid. I am screened for ebola, and after that, the process turns out to be surprisingly easy. I neglect the taxi drivers, find a bodaboda (motorcycle) driver, and secure a room in an affordable hotel in a safe area of the city for a fraction of the cost I was expecting to pay. The first feeling I get is one of normalcy: life is going on, people walk the streets, shops are open - I am tempted to believe that the situation is better than what I have been told. I meet up with one of the agents who can arrange trips out of the city, and am glad I do. He draws a dire picture of the situation, tells me that outside the city, war is still going on, and he won't send his vehicles out of the city limits. Moreover, it turns out that taking pictures without a permit is not allowed; with a permit, even taking pictures of a church or mosque can land you in trouble. People are paranoid because of the war, and anyone swinging a big camera might be considered a spy. What is more: there is a large secret police presence, who operate in plain clothes. One source tells me there could be around 30.000 of them patrolling the city, which implies one out of every ten persons could be secret police (making the claim questionable). Ministries will be closed for four days because of Easter, so getting a permit is out of the question, and I am not willing to wait until after the weekend for a chance of getting a permit. After all, apparently even journalists with all their documents in order are being harassed: a permit is no guarantee for free shooting.
Ministries Road, one of the main roads in Juba, with pictures of the hat-wearing President

Pictures from Sudan

Suakin Old Town
On a circular island just off the mainland lies the ruined old town of Suakin, built of coral, where some persistence can find you remarkable remains of what once was a thriving trading post on the Red Sea.
When the bus passed Suakin on the way to Port Sudan, I knew I would be back a couple of hours later. After I found a place to stay, for a short while it seemed like it was going to be difficult, as the hotel manager told me there would only be minibuses in the early morning, but after asking around at the local bus station in the centre of town and getting contradicting information, I was invited into a bus heading the right way. I ceded my seat to an older man, who then paid my fare even though I did not want him to, and was told to alight and walk down the train track after ten minutes. It was my lucky day: I was the last passenger to board the vehicle and within an hour, I was back in Suakin. It had been cloudy all day, and to my joy the sun now found holes in the layer of clouds to cast its light on the Red Sea port town.
Few walls remain of this building in the old town of Suakin

Hamed El Nil dervishes
Even as an outsider, chances are you will get hypnotized by the rhythmic chanting and moving of the crowd surrounding the whirling dervishes at Hamed el Nil on Friday afternoon.
It is a tough call: see the Nubian wrestlers across the Blue Nile, or witness the dervishes at Omdurman, on the other side of the White Nile? Both events only take place on Friday afternoon and start at more or less the same time. We decide to try Omdurman; finding a minivan turns out to be a little more difficult than we thought, and we end up hiring one. When we cross the White Nile on the old bridge, I feel the excitement of entering new territory: I had walked here a week before, but turned back as soon as I reached the other side. Now, we drive through streets with low-rise, relatively new buildings, until we reach an open space. In the middle of it, we see a few domes rising out of the plain. Our driver steers his rickety van right onto a track, and stops next to the domes of Hamed el Nil mosque. There are the tea ladies that are such a common sight in Sudan, there are a few men dressed in green robes, and there is a peaceful atmosphere. We are early; one of the rickshaw drivers takes us out to the tomb of Mahdi. When we come back to Hamed el Nil, not much has changed. It turns out that the weekly Halgt Zikr ceremony starts later in winter. An older man in a white robe takes us out for a short walk, explains what we are seeing, invites us into a tomb where people are singing and murmuring prayers, and a cat sneak into the openings of the tomb itself, and walk around the cemetery. We end up at yet another tea stall.
Dervish at the middle of the crowd during the ceremony of the Sufis

Amara West
In the right season, you can see archeologists at work at the ruins of Amara and get a fascinating glimpse of excavations of an ancient site.
We had not heard about it before we arrived in Abri, but as soon as the owner of the new guesthouse on the banks of the River Nile mentions Amara West, we are attracted to the idea of visiting it. For years, archeologists and others have been working to uncover the historic site of Amara on the west bank of the Nile, and work is still in progress. What is more, the team is still there, taking advantage of the relatively low temperatures. They have set up camp on the island between Abri and the west side, so we do not meet them before we set foot on the other side of the mighty river.
The outlines of houses can clearly be seen in the sand of Amara West

Omdurman Camel Market
While you do not see them walking the streets of Khartoum, you can shop for camels, and donkeys and goats, at the camel market of Omdurman, on the edge of the desert.
Visiting the camel market seems like an easy thing to do: ask for a minivan, and just go. But when we see the dervishes at Hamed el Nil the day before and ask about the camel market, people give us a puzzled look even when we mention "jamal souq". According to one of our guidebooks, it is just a few hundred metres walk from the cemetery around Hamed el Nil, but this seems unlikely. We end up taking a minivan to Souq Libya, from where we have to take yet another minivan further west. The driver is kind enough to point us in the right direction, and we first walk across the donkey market and the goat market. Several guys follow us and are a little too invasive, but they leave us alone after a while.
Camels under the hot sun at the camel market

Sai Island
Several settlements can be found on the island of Sai in the river Nile, where an Ottoman fort was constructed right on top of an old Egyptian temple and there are remains of a church, too.
We had planned to find transportation south and catch a ferry across the Nile to visit Sai Island, but learnt that the ferries were not running. Instead, we rent a boat for the day. After our morning visit to Amara, we now drive upstream towards the south. It is a pleasant drive, the sun is not too strong, and there is plenty to see on the way. The water level of the Nile is low, and people have made terrassed fields on its river banks on which they grow vegetables. It is clear to see how the desert is approaching the Nile from the west; at several points, we see sand dunes looming over a thin line of trees. When we reach Sai Island, we buy tickets right where two ferry boats are docked on shore; it is clear they are out of service. We drive a little further south, the boat guy ties the boat, and we walk to the ruins of the Ottoman fort, which has been built on top of the much older ruins of an Egyptian settlement.
The biggest ruins on Sai Island are of this Ottoman fort on the east side

Soleb
Probably the most impressive sight in northern Sudan, the ancient temple of Soleb offers colossal columns, hieroglyphs, and other remains to discover in solitude.
We did not want to charter a car to get to Wawa, the gateway to Soleb, and the owner of our guesthouse insisted he accompany us, so when we learn that no minibus is heading south, we walk through Abri town. The distance to the new highway to the border with Egypt in the north could be covered in half an hour, but it takes us two, because we make several stops, are invited in for breakfast, have a tea somewhere else, visit the hospital in search of a driver, and watch a woman decorating her house with black mud with her bare hands. Now we know how these rustic exteriors are made. At the crossroads and petrol station, a minibus is waiting and it appears to be heading south. The three of us can still squeeze in, and a little over half an hour later, we walk off in Wawa. The village seems almost deserted, and well-off, judging from the beautifully painted, big yellow houses. We need a boatsman, and the few ones that turn up upon a call from our guide, quote a price that we know is too high. We still have time; Soleb is just across the river, and the sun is still high in the sky. Then, suddenly, an old Landcruiser suddenly shows up in the silence; a German couple on their way back to Europe. Instead of making things easier, the boatman now suddenly raises his price, and we walk off to have a drink somewhere. I am getting a little nervous: I desperately want to see Soleb, but I also don't want to pay too much. It is a game with the boatsmen, and the guide is confident that things will work out. And they do: an hour and a half later, the boatsman agrees with our offer, we walk to the banks of the Nile, help lift the Landcruiser out of a ditch, and cross the river.
The temple of Soleb seen from below
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/soleb.html

Deffufas of Kerma
When in Kerma, the enigmatic deffufas are the place to go and to enjoy, while the walk between the western and eastern deffufa is a good way to explore the countryside.
At first, we had thought to walk from the northern part of Kerma to the western deffufa, as we have most of the afternoon ahead of us, but when we ask for the way, people convince us it was better to take a minivan. We follow their advice - and would be very happy with that decision later on. When we get off on the main road, a short walk through a quiet neighbourhood takes us to the low, adobe wall around the deffufa - which is clearly visible. We walk past a few carcasses of cows, and reach the entrance of the deffufa. There are a few soldiers, who want to chat with us, before telling us that we had to get a ticket first at the counter, and that the ticket guy is at the market for lunch. When he shows up at his window, he invites us into his small office, where he offers us something to eat and drink. We ask for directions for the eastern deffufa, and people are surprised we wanted to walk. Since it is still hot and we have read the eastern deffufa was only 2-3 km away, we think of seeing the museum first, but unfortunately someone there quotes a price twice of what the soldiers had quoted, and we decide to go to the eastern deffufa first.
The late afternoon sunlight on the western deffufa

Jebel Barkal
The various temples and pyramids in and around the curiously shaped holy mountain of Jebel Barkal are the crown of Karima to which you can come back over and over again.
While on the minivan from Kerma to Karima, my eyes are drawn to a peculiarly shaped mountain, and the passenger next to me confirms my thought: this is Jebel Barkal, the main reason we are on our way to Karima in the first place. It is, literally, the Holy Mountain, and its free-standing pinnacle is thought to represent a cobra, the protective reptile of king Amun. We would later actually find depictions of the mountain with the face of the king inside, and the cobra appearing in front of his face, just like the pinnacle of the mount, and a similar scene exists on a relief of a temple in Abu Simbel in Egypt. Finding a place to sleep is not difficult: we find a homestay at a place that is owned by someone working at the museum, and even though it is Friday and the museum is not supposed to be open, we walk into the museum after leaving our stuff in our room. To me, the most impressive objects are the chunks of rock with carved elephants, lying amidst the rubbish just outside the museum walls. It is a rich culture that can treat such finds in that way; many more finds can be found in other museums inside, and mostly outside, Sudan. Of course, there is more than the small museum, and the caretaker locks the door, and walks us to the temples at the foot of Jebel Barkal, and inside the Temple of Mut, which is built into the face of the mountain itself, and which has a sturdy door that can be closed. When our eyes have adapted to the darkness, and when we have found our small torches, we start to see the colourful hieroglyphs covering the walls. It is fascinating to see these millennia old depictions come to life again in the light of a torch.
Temple of Amun with Jebel Barkal in the background

El Kurru Royal Cemetery
The cemetery of El Kurru includes two tombs in which elaborate wall paintings can be enjoyed underground - because they are inside the earth, a torch is essential!
It turns out to be easy to find a driver with one of those small cars willing to take us to the royal cemetery of El Kurru. We want to squeeze in a visit to the pyramids at Nuri later on, which is why we opt for the luxury of a car. Passing through a desert landscape which remotely reminds me of the wadis of Oman, we reach El Kurru, which turns out to be a bigger village than I expected. We enter the area with tombs scattered around, of which we know only two are decorated inside, and which is the only Kushite site of this kind. We see some other foreigners - no tourists, but archeologists working on the site. When we descend into the first they kindly offer to step outside. Fortunately, we have taken torches, and before our eyes, wherever we point our lights, we see brightly coloured wall paintings of kings with animal heads, hieroglyphs, and other scenes. The ceiling is covered in yellow and red stars on a blue background, making it look very much like a sky. We take our time to see this royal and richly decorated tomb before we walk the stairs up again.
Animal-headed god inside one of the royal tombs of El Kurru

Nuri pyramids
The desert is slowly erasing them from the face of the earth, but as long as the pyramids of Nuri are still there, they are definitely worth the trip from Karima.
After having a lunch break at the market of Karima, we walk along the train tracks alongside the river Nile. We have heard that there are small boats crossing the river, and the possibility to visit Nuri like that. It sounds interesting, and we find a rare traveller who is looking for the same boats. People do point us further upstream, but when we see some small boats on the river bank, no one is around, and on the other side, we do not see anyone either. We decide to take the minibus after all. When asking around at the bus stand in Karima, we are told that the minivan which is almost full can drop us off at the pyramids, but when we arrive after a half hour drive, it turns out to that Nuri is the other way and we have to catch yet another minivan. When we finally arrive in Nuri, it is a short walk to the pyramids. We are still early, and the ancient structures are still baking in the sun. We take a break at the foot of one of them. Two guys come to us, separately, to ask for tickets, and as in El Kurru, it turns out we had to buy it before arriving at the museum. We manage to convince the guys that we are staying with someone working at the museum and that we will pay later. One of them lingers around for a while, before disappearing behind one of the pyramids. Other than these two men, we do not see anyone else at the site, which adds to the feeling of desolation of the place.
Desert and pyramids at Nuri

Pyramids of Begrawiya
Seeing the sun cast its first rays of light on the pyramids of Begrawiya and the sand dunes on which they are built is an unforgettable experience.
We had informed ourselves about transportation from Karima to Atbara the evening before, and were told that there were buses leaving every hour. We want to be at the pyramids well before sunset, especially because it will be full moon as well, and calculate that some six hours should be sufficient to reach the most important historic site of Sudan. The next morning, we are at the bus station again, are sent to a different place, where we put our bags on the roof of a minivan. But apart from the few passengers in the bus, no one else shows up, and traffic seems to be very slow. Hours pass, and we leave my local phone number and walk around town - oh, the joy of having a local SIM card! I even take a dip into the Nile, get dry, and back to the bus where, finally, something seems to be happening. There are no more passengers, and after having waited for more than four hours, it is decided to use a smaller minivan. We are now on the way quite soon, and the driver is a fast one. I cannot help but calculate our chances to be at the pyramids in time for sunset. We make a halfway stop, which takes too long for my taste, but when we cross the river Nile again just south of Atbara, I am happy we can get off. From here, we hope to find a bus towards Shendi, but we first have to drive to Ed Damer. But there are no more buses to Shendi; we are told to go to Atbara instead. That will surely not bring us to Begrawiya in time; it is already past 5pm, and the sun will set around 7. We decide to take a rickshaw to the highway, and manage to convince the driver to go as fast as he can in his noisy vehicle. We walk past the toll gate, and are lucky: the first pickup truck that passes, is happy to offer us a ride, but only goes halfway the pyramids of Begrawiya - or Meroë, as they are often called. We are driving south fast, and have to get off some 40 km north of Begrawiya. One guy actively helps us to get a ride, stops a truck, and the policeman who has just boarded, gets out again and climbs on the back of the truck. On our right, the sun is sinking towards the horizon fast - it is a race against the clock. When we get off at the pyramids, it is less than half an hour before sunset. We walk towards the pyramids, that are glowing in the warm light coming from behind us, and a deep sense of satisfaction overwhelms us: we made it after a day-long chase! We get a warm welcome at the entrance to the site, and are invited to sleep behind some ruins, and assured there are no animals to fear here.
Pyramid and sand dune in the early morning

Naqa
The temples with their richly decorated columns and walls seem to be lost in nomads country, and its isolated location is precisely on of the attractions of Naqa.
As soon as I read about Naqa and Musawarat, I longed to see those places. Lost in the desert and at least partially surrounded by mystery, they sounded just like the sites I love. When we reach Shendi, we have the idea of renting a car for the afternoon and see Naqa, and leave Musawarat for the next morning, and thus see both sites at the best conditions. But finding a driver with a 4WD turns out to be very difficult - partly because of language problems, partly because people ask outrageous prices, and partly because we are sent all over town by locals who really want to help us, but just do not know how. Eventually, we have run out of time, and decide to first find a hotel. Which, then, turns out to be much more difficult than we ever imagined. At the only real hotel of town, we quickly learn that a soccer team has occupied all the rooms. We talk a little with them, and are advised to stay in a hotel on the highway. But that turns out to be full, too. The only locanda of town raises its price by 50% in just a few minutes - and we are still without a room. Going back to the hotel, the manager of the team is extremely helpful in finding a solution and thinking with us. Also, a car and driver are arranged to take us to Naqa and Musawarat the next morning. We are offered a bed in a private home, but when we arrive, it turns out to be in the middle of nowhere and without a real bathroom, and: nowhere to eat in the vicinity. We are now starving, and decide to eat first. The gentlemen at the table next to us are curious just like all Sudanese, go to prayer, and when they come back, they do so with a solution. There turns out to be yet another hotel a few minutes away, and when we reach it, we have a quick shower and fall into a deep sleep, enjoying a good night after the night before which we spent in the desert.
Temple of Amun in the early morning
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/naqa.html

Musawarat es Sufra
Getting there is half the fun, and the Great Enclosure and Lion Temple of Musawarat make the effort well worth it; in the right season, you might find a team of archaeologists who are willing to give more information on the site.
When our driver Mohamed drives away after dropping us off at a small shack in the middle of nowhere, we wonder if we will really see him again. We have a deal: after showing us Naqa and leaving us here, he is supposed to go working, and come back in the afternoon to take us back to Shendi. Now that we are standing at Musawarat, and after seeing that there is no traffic at all on the track back to the highway, we feel that this site is, indeed, the isolated place we hoped to find. We leave our bags in the shack, where a young man is watching TV on a bed, and walk towards the Great Enclosure. We are surprised to find a team of Sudanese at work. Soon after we start exploring the ruins, a German archeologist approaches us, hands us a GPS device, and invites us to be interviewed about our visit. The ghaffir, or caretaker, follows us around on our tour of the ruined settlement. We have read about animal figures carved out in the sandstone blocks here, and walk around to spot them. Sure enough, we find a dog chasing a rabbit, plenty of camels, a few elephants; most of them alone. Unfortunately, over the years people have added their own graffiti, up to a point where for the casual visitor, it is not always easy to separate the original graffiti from the newer ones. We watch the men work, taking away sand from one part, and filling up the trench that has been dug before to explore underground.
Workers at the Great Enclosure at Musawarat

Khatmiyah
Not just a great place to see the Taka Mountains up close, scramble over the peculiar rocks and watch sunset, Khatmiyah also offers an old mosque with a tomb in a separate building.
When we wake up on our first morning in Kessala, the first thing we do is to spot the Taka Mountains. We have arrived the evening before, and are curious to see them for real. Spotting them is easy: they are just a few kilometres Kessala, and are high enough to dominate the city. Their rounded tops and steep towers give them a unique appearance, and it is obvious that we will visit them. In the end, we have so many conversations on the first day, that visiting the mountains no longer makes sense, and we postpone it to the next day. Instead, we walk towards the mountains, and when we reach a football field, have good views of the Taka Mountains.
Tomb of Hassan al Mighrani and mosque of Khatmiyah with the Taka Mountains in the background

Kassala Markets
When in Kassala, you can spend hours walking the markets where you cannot find about anything you may need; it is also a great place to meet the locals.
It was one of te reasons to come the long way to Kassala: we had read that the markets are worth visiting, partly because of its proximity to the border with Eritrea, which ensures various ethnicities on the streets. Our taxi driver in Khartoum is very optimistic: when asked about the length of the bus trip, he says, it is around 600km, so it will take around 4 hours. We ended up taking more than 10 hours, and arrive when the night has already fallen over the town eastern town of Sudan. It is a little difficult to find a place to sleep, but when we are finally settled, we are located in a very good location: walking distance from the markets and the main bus station. Our first glimpse of the famous Taka Mountains is the next morning, but we first want to explore the city.
Market of Kassala: street scene in the afternoon

Sudan National Museum
It has several original temples reconstructed on its premises, and also an extensive exhibit inside which gives you a better understanding of the historical sights around the country.
After travelling around Sudan and enjoying visiting many historic sights, we have reached the last day of our stay in the country. Our flight leaves in the afternoon, and there is only one thing on our mind: visiting the National Museum of Sudan before our departure. We have passed it several times before, on the banks of the river Nile, and now, it is finally time to go in. We pay the ridiculously low entrance fee (especially compared to the entrance fees levied at the sights around the country), and walk into the pleasant garden. Here, we find not only flowers and an empty water basin, but also three fully reconstructed temples. Taken from the area that was flooded after the completion of the Aswan Dam, the temples of Buhen, Semna and Kumma were rebuilt stone by stone. Moreover, they are all covered by a roof, and thus better protected against the elements.
Lion statues in the garden of the museum

Sudanese people
Sudan has a lot to offer in terms of sights, but you might end up realizing that its main attraction are its people with their legendary hospitality and generosity.
Before arriving in Sudan, I had read about the hospitality of its people, and was curious as to how this would look once on the ground. At the same time, some of my family and friends are worried about me travelling in Sudan; after all, the country has had troublesome years with war and a separation of its southern province, which has given the country a bad reputation. I arrive in the middle of the night, and my first encounters with the Sudanese are OK. But the next day to the moment I would step on the plane out of the country, I will be surprised over and over again by the Sudanese, to a point that I realize that, besides the great sights the country has to offer, its people are the actual star of the show. I have countless examples of how the Sudanese have showed that their legendary hospitality is still very much alive. I receive countless cups of tea, and invitations to people's homes for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. People come up to me in the middle of the street, putting their hand on their heart while proclaiming "Welcome to Sudan", and: "You are home here". People asking where I am from, and then reciting their knowledge about my country - with a surprising accuracy.
Girls in the late afternoon on the western deffufa of Kerma

Pictures from Tanzania

Stone Town
Wondering the alleys and streets of Stone Town in Zanzibar is a true pleasure because of the intricately carved wooden doors, the architecture, the welcoming people, discoveries great and small.
While I am traveling the boat from Dar-es-Salaam to Zanzibar, I try to remember my first visit, searching my memory for images and impressions, but only find rusty recollections of a bumpy ride and a spice tour on the island. This time, I will concentrate on Stone Town, the old part of Zanzibar City, the capital of the island. After going through immigration upon arrival, I walk to the old dispensary, opposite the port. It is a light-green painted building in a unique style, with coloured glass making it even more attractive from the inside. After getting a room in a traditional house with heavily decorated wooden doors (the most beautiful hotel room door I ever had!), I start exploring the town. To my relief, I find that although there are signs of increased tourism, much of the old town is still as it has been for centuries. People sitting down and chatting on the barazas (stone bench), cleaning the street, waiting for customers at their shop, walking to one of the many mosques for afternoon prayers. There are no cars as most alleys are simply too narrow for them, and most people walk, bike, or take a scooter. I am always greeted with a big smile, especially after my Salaam Aleykums.
Tower of the Old Fort of Stone Town

Kaole Ruins
Once an important port and trading post on the Indian Ocean, Kaole turned into ruins when the town was abandoned. What remains now are some fascinating ruins of two mosques and graves - and an old baobab tree.
After a visit to the nearby crocodile farm, the driver I had arranged in Dar es Salaam parked our car under a tree at the entrance of Kaole ruins. I bought a ticket, not just for myself, but also for the driver, as he had never visited Kaole himself. Right at the entrance, we walked up to the remains of a 13th century mosque. Made of grey coral stone, it was easy to recognize the structure, the stairs leading up to the spot where calls for prayers were once made five times a day, and after walking through the entrance, the layout of the mosque was still very clear. I inevitably wondered what the mosque would have looked like when it was operational. This is supposedly one of the oldest mosques in East Africa.
Several of the more than 20 graves at Kaole cemetery

Bagamoyo
Former capital of Tanzania, Bagamoyo now is an interesting coastal town with plenty of things to see and do. Improved road conditions make it a feasible day trip from Dar es Salaam.
Of course I had to haggle hard, but in the end, I managed to get a good price with the driver and we were on our way to the north from Dar es Salaam. After visiting the old ruins of Kaole, we went to Bagamoyo, parked the car, and I walked into the tourist office. A pleasant chat with the director who appeared to be a historian and author of an interesting booklet about the history of this town, put me on the right track and we started exploring the town on foot. Unfortunately, the British Overseas Management Administrative, or Boma, one of the prime colonial buildings of Bagamoyo, was under reconstruction and could not be visited, and I could only see the upper part of it. We continued to the German Fort, which has now turned into a museum. This is where the German garrison was based back in the time when Tanzania was a German colony, until 1916 when the British conquered the town. Although Bagamoyo had been a capital, its importance began to decline when the Germans moved the capital to Dar es Salaam, and decided to build a railway from the new capital to the interior.
Bagamoyo is a natural port: boats docked on the beach

Kunduchi ruins
Tucked away in a field with bushes and baobab trees, not far from the Indian Ocean, lie old graves and the ruins of a mosque: evidence of the Omani traders that once frequented the East African coast.
As a surprise, a driver presents himself to us in Dar es Salaam, showing us a print of a page of the Lonely Planet of our destination: the ruins of Kunduchi. After a short negotiation, we are on our way towards the north. Without any traffic jams, we arrive in Kunduchi, and the guy parks the car next to a small mosque, and points inside. We take off our shoes, and see a tomb, covered by a cloth. This definitely is not what we are looking for, and when I say "magofu", Swahili for ruins, he looks with a blank stare. A local guy passes by, gets a seat in the car, and guides us back to the main road to Bagamoyo, and after turning left, we drive through an open field with a well where men are washing themselves, to a shack. Our driver parks under a tree, and we get off.
Baobab tree dominating the graveyard of Kunduchi

Tarangire National Park
For a classical safari experience, Tarangire National Park is great: savanna landscapes with trees and rivers, and a wide variety of wildlife - all within a few hours from Arusha.
When we leave Arusha on an early morning, we are excitedly looking forward to what we are going to do: spend a day exploring Tarangire National Park. After a two hour drive, we arrive at the entrance, where we open the roof. The driver proceeds slowly, and before we know it, we see mongoose running around. Soon thereafter, we see a first herd of zebra and wildebeest crossing, towards a small pool. The zebras take a bath, and for a while, stand in a row, with their behinds towards us. Then, they turn around, and walk towards us. They must surely rank among the most beautiful animals of Africa's wildlife.
Group of zebras at a pool in Tarangire National Park

Ngorongoro Crater
An enormous caldera with an incredible array of wildlife, from herds of zebra to lions, from flamingoes to buffaloes, in a unique setting of an ancient volcano with an isolated ecosystem.
The sky is getting lighter in the distance when we grab some food, put them in paper bags, and drive off towards the entrance gate of Ngorongoro Conservation Area. On our drive towards the rim, the sun is starting to shine on the tree tops above. When we stop, we are at the rim of a caldera that was formed in a huge explosion two to three million years ago. As we walk towards the edge, the enormous crater opens up before our eyes. Below us, we see a vast area, some 600 metres below us, with several shallow lakes inside. When we look closer, we spot herds of zebra, and flocks of flamingoes, cracks in the valley floor, spots of trees - all framed by the jagged edge of the Ngorongoro crater wall. We are at around 2300 metres here: it is time to dive into this stunning setting to explore.
Flamingoes in the shallow waters of Lake Magadi in Ngorongoro Crater

Pictures from Togo

Togo impressions
Togo offers rustic villages, green scenery, colourful markets, a laid back capital city right on the Gulf of Guinea, and beautiful people in brightly coloured dresses.
My first experience with West Africa was Togo. And I was truly impressed and surprised. At that time, the country was a source of stability and peace in the region. And visiting villages brought very special experiences with it. After having travelled extensively in Europe, this was a completely different world, exciting, and it really opened the rest of the world to me.
Village in northern Togo

Mont Agou
Hiking up the highest mountain of Togo is worth it even when the summit is in clouds and there is no view, because of the attractive villages on the way.
When we arrive earlier than expected in Kpalimé, I calculate it might be possible to hike up to the highest point of Togo: Mont Agou, before sunset. So I arrange a motorbike, and while I am on the way, I wonder whether this is yet another crazy idea of mine. Sunset is less than two hours away, In have read various reports about the distance, but the minimum time I have seen is two hours for the climb, and I have no idea how I'll get down. Surely, there won't be taxis waiting for me to take me back to Kpalimé. There is only one option: hike up as fast as I can, and then count on my luck to come down again.
Village on the slopes of Mont Agou

Chateau Viale
High up in the mountains above Kpalimé, you can find the curious Chateau Viale that once was the playground for the famous, but fell into disrepair decades ago.
It is a beautiful morning when we set out of Kpalimé on a drive into the mountains. We first drive to Kloto, through a forest and on switchbacks. We pass waterfalls, and at Missahoé make a brief stop. We learn that the actual name is Misahöhe, and that a German official back in 1890 had a station established here, and named it after Misa, his mistress. Back then, Togo was still a German colony. There supposedly is a German cemetery further down the road, but we decide to continue to our destination. After more switchbacks, and a closed ticket counter, we reach a parking lot with a castle on the far side: we have arrived at Chateau Viale, at around 700 metres above sea level.
The Château Viale seen from the parking lot

Womé waterfall
Hidden in the lush tropical environment in the hills southwest of Kpalimé, the modest Womé waterfall and its pool enchant by its setting amidst rocks and trees.
After enjoying the beautiful views from the crumbling Chateau Viale, we head back to Kpalimé for a short visit to the community centre. Then, we are on our way to the southwest. We come across people celebrating Labour Day, dressed up for the occasion, dancing and chanting, and then take the turn to our next destination. We pay our entrance at the picnic area, and then start the walk down. To my surprise, there are concrete steps, making our descent much easier. We enjoy the views over the verdant valley and beyond, over the tree tops, before the stairs take us down into that same forest.
Womé waterfall and pool seen from a rock

Pictures from Tunisia

Bardo National Museum
The largest collection of mosaics in the world, the Bardo Museum is like paradise for those who love this intricate art with some truly dazzling works and many masterpieces covering an extended period of time.
Days after visiting the historic site of ancient Carthage, we are on our way to visit the Bardo Museum, world famous for its extensive collection of mosaics - in fact, it houses the largest such collection. Finding a taxi from near the medina turns out harder than we expected; the driver takes a longer route to avoid the worst Tunisian traffic jams. When we finally enter the spacious museum, we immediately feel at ease. The museum was world news on March 18, 2015 when IS attacked it, took visitors hostage, and killed 22. The tragic event is commemorated in the entrance hall with a plaque and the flags of those who died in the attack. We start exploring the museum, and within minutes, are thrilled with the abundance of mosaics on display here. Furthermore, we are happy that taking pictures is fine here.
Goddess sitting on a horse, fragment of a mosaic in the Bardo Museum

Tunisian doors
Walking around in Tunisia, you will inevitably notice the remarkable wooden doors in blue, yellow, brown, or other colours, often decorated with intricate patterns with black nails, every single one unique.
Before arriving in Tunisia, we expected to see ruins of lost civilizations, we expected to wander the old medinas, to see seaside Mediterranean towns, and to be hassled by shopkeepers at the bazaars. Certainly, we got all that. What we did not really expect, was to be stopping frequently because we saw yet another beautiful door. And yet, we ended up going home with many pictures of Tunisian doors. Already on our first walk through dark Tunis, we see them: many of the old houses in the medina have a door that stands out. The next day, on the way to the station and exploration of Carthage, we often stop to take out our cameras, and click away. Blue is easily the most used colour, but we also often see yellow. Doors come in all kinds of shapes: arched, rectangular, with oriental frames, and with iron bars at the top.
Cat entering a wooden blue door in Sousse

Tunis medina
Tunis appears like a modern city, until you enter through one of the gates and find yourself walking narrow winding alleys between centuries-old buildings, through arches, a covered souq, and many surprise corners.
When my taxi takes me from the airport, we get stuck in traffic, and Tunis seems like a modern city, with lots of people and newish architecture. Then, he steers his car through a gate, and we enter narrow streets. He finally stops when he cannot drive further, and we walk the last bit to my hotel. My travel partner arrived before, and we walk the deserted streets of the medina in search of a restaurant - we find a beautiful place in an old building where we have a good meal. We will walk the streets of the medina for a couple of days, on our way to elsewhere, or just because we want to explore more of this fascinating old town. The medina is not small, no street is straight, yet getting lost is virtually impossible, so we roam the alleys without an exact plan, just following our instinct.
Zaytouna Mosque in the old medina of Tunis was first built in the 8th century

Sousse medina
The old city of Sousse offers a maze of alleys and narrow cobble-stone streets to wonder around in, with shops, mosques, the Ribat and a fort as the jewels in the crown of this Tunisian city.
Even though we reach the railway station well ahead of the departure time of our train, we are suddenly in a hurry when the lady behind the ticket counter tells us the price. It seems very steep, and we ask if two tickets really cost 272.000 dinars, which she confirms by showing her calculator to us. We do not have the cash, cards are not accepted, and the ATM of the railway station is out of order, so we run to the nearest money machine we have seen while walking towards the station. When we give the money to the same lady, she is surprised and gives back almost all the money: it turns out there was one 0 too many. When we arrive in Sousse, we quickly walk towards the entrance to the old city which is our goal of the day. Our first stop is the Ribat of Sousse, the old fort of this World Heritage old city.
View of the Ribat of Sousse from its tower at dusk

Sidi Bou Said
An attractive village north-east of Tunis, Sidi Bou Said makes for a wonderful stroll through its cobble-stone streets and past its white walls and blue doors to a viewpoint of the Mediterranean coastline.
Warm sunlight is shining on the whitewashed houses of Sidi Bou Said when we start our exploration of this village to the northeast of Tunis. It soon becomes clear that it is a popular destination: the main street is swarming with (mostly Tunisian) visitors, salesmen try to lure us into their shops, so we decide to dive into the small side streets. As is often the case, we immediately find ourselves in empty streets and alleys, without the hassle, and can focus on the beauty of this village. What makes Sidi Bou Said stand out, are the blue windows and doors, contrasting nicely with the white walls. Inevitably, you think of Greece when seeing this colour combination: a Mediterranean feel. The iron balustrade, the wooden panels of the windows, the arched doors: all of them are painted in the same blue.
Wall with blue iron bar windows in Sidi Bou Said

Roman Carthage
After the Romans destroyed Carthage, they realised the strategic importance of this North African city and rebuilt it, with villas, an amphitheatre, aqueduct and water cisterns, the largest baths in Africa, and much more.
After exploring the Punic ruins of Carthage, we are curious to also explore the Roman history of this North African city. The Romans destroyed the Phoenician city in 146BCE, at the end of the Third Punic War, and made sure in every possible way that it would never emerge as a power again. They then realised the strategic importance of the city, and decided to rebuild the city. We had already seen on Byrsa Hill that they actually filled the ruins with sand, and built their houses and temples right on top. At Byrsa Hill, there are platforms with columns, many statues (all without head), and the ruins of the judiciary basilica, among other things, to see. We find a collection of statues, stelae, and carved pieces of marble behind the museum walls - unfortunately, the museum itself is closed.
Baths of Antoninus of Carthage, among the three largest ever built in the Roman Empire

Punic Carthage
The Phoenicians founded Carthage, and turned it into a successful city, one of the wealthiest of its time; after its fall, the Romans merely buried it in sand, thus preserving the ruins quite well, and built their own city on top.
On the old train from Tunis to Carthage, we learn that Hannibal station is closed, and are tol dto get off at Dermech instead. It involves a little longer walk through quiet, pleasant streets. We now have more time to anticipate our exciting day: exploring the ruins of Carthage, the famous city on the north coast of Africa. When we reach the top of the Byrsa hill, we pass Saint Louis Cathedral, buy our ticket, and enter the archeological grounds. After a superficial visit to some Roman-era ruins, we decide to take a chronological approach, and head to the Punic quarter. Sacked in 146BCE at the end of the Third Punic War, the Romans burnt the city, pulled its ships out and burnt them as well, and enslaved the population. They filled the ruins with sand, and eventually, built their own city on top when they realised the strategic importance of Carthage in the middle of the Mediterranean and the gateway to northern Africa.
Punic Carthage seen from above

Pictures from Uganda

Murchison Falls
On its long way to the Mediterranean, the Nile is pushed through a narrow opening in the rocks, forming the spectacular Murchison waterfalls.
As soon as we got out of the car, we heard the continuous thunder of water. We hurried towards the source of the sound, and ended up at the banks of the river Nile. At first we saw water rushing down, and after a few more steps forward, we could see the entire spectacle of Murchison Falls. The speeding water, dashing and whirling, causing foam of water being hurled into the air, inevitably sped towards the lowest point, which was a narrow opening in the rocks to the left of us. While the river was perhaps fifty metres wide just before, the narrow opening managed to almost block the enormous water mass. Almost. Because the water eventually had no choice than to go downwards, and as it did so, the enormous pressure of the water just upstream caused it to violently fall down just after the opening.
Murchison Falls: water of the Nile squeezing itself through a narrow gap

Uganda Gorilla
Hidden in the impenetrable forests of southern Uganda, the gorilla shows itself playful and cosy to those who hike up their habitat.
Excitement had been building up those last days on our way to Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, before our gorilla trek. When the day was finally there, we realized we were about to do something we had never done before. Treks start at 8 when the guards give a briefing about the visit, and how to behave in case of gorilla charging, what to do and mostly what not, and then the group split in three and we started our trek. We were assigned to the R group, and after crossing a creek, we started walking up a path. The light filtering through the trees and leaves gave our surroudings a mysterious atmosphere, especially since we realized that the gorillas were living in exactly these surroudings.
Contemplating look of Mwirima in the impenetrable forest

Victoria Nile
A far cry from the lazy, slow and wide Nile in Egypt, the Ugandan Nile is literally full of life, and a trip on the Victoria Nile is great opportunity to get a glimpse of it.
While the sun was burning on our heads and shoulders, we embarked on a boat on the bank of the Nile, or the Victoria Nile, as this stretch of the mightiest river of Africa is called. As soon as we got moving, the temperature became agreeable again. Very soon, we spotted the first hippos, turning their little ears around, and looking at us in surprise. We were excited to see this group of enormous animals, and you could hear cameras clicking all around. It got more exciting when we spotted a crococile on the bank, being disturbed in his afternoon rest and moving into the Nile. After a while, we also saw a group of elephants on the river bank, but they also spotted us and moved away.
Hippo looking around on his territory, the Victoria Nile

Murchison Falls Safari
While not the best place to expect an abundance of wildlife, Murchison Falls National Park is still interesting to visit because of its beautiful nature.
While still on the southern bank of the Victoria Nile, we drove through rather thick vegetation and did not see any other animals than a snake crossing the road, and some warthogs as we entered our camp. The next morning, we left in time to catch the first boat across the Nile, and started our game drive under a light drizzle. Soon, the driver was struggling to keep the car under control, and as we were sliding from left to right, and back, on the road, we were more busy holding ourselves than to try and spot animals. Sometimes it seemed we would simply capsize, but the driver, helped by the guard, kept his cool.
Crowned cranes in Murchison Falls National Park

Uganda Light
One of the amazing things you notice in Uganda, is the amazing light in this equatorial country. Whether it is early morning or late afternoon, beautiful light surrounds you.
That morning, we left early for a long drive back to Kampala. As we came out of a valley, sunlight came in from the right, and we looked to the source of the light. Sunrays filtered through early morning fog hanging in the valley, and we saw a play of light and shadow with the fog, the trees, and the sun. We just had to stop and watch the spectacle before driving on. For the next several hours, we were glued to the landscape and the sunlight playing with it.
Sunrays and morning fog as examples of beautiful Ugandan light

Queen Elizabeth Safari
The second largest park in Uganda, Queen Elizabeth National Park offers very diverse kinds of nature to watch wildlife in.
Our first encounter with Queen Elizabeth was after we just entered the area after a long day drive from the north of the country. Huge black silhouets were moving to our right, and it was soon obvious what we were dealing with. Elephants! A herd was eating grass, and two of them were in a playful mood and crossed the street, where they appeared to be mating. After that first dusk encounter, we would see many more elephants in this area. The next morning, we went for a game drive, and saw a lot of elephants, bucks, warthogs, and other animals, but unfortunately not the big cats we had hoped to see.
Elephants playing in the waters of the Kazinga Channel

Uganda people
One of the delights of a visit to Uganda is the often spontaneous and good-humoured spirit of the people. Moreover, their colourful dresses make them a great sight when travelling through the country.
Of course, the notion of a Ugandan person is a far cry from the reality on the ground. While the borders of the country are clearly fixed, the population actually consists of more than thirty ethnic groups. Moreover, several different religions are represented in Uganda making it a truly multi-ethnic, multi-religious country. Fortunately for the visitor, English is widely spoken and communication is not difficult. What awaits the traveller is a friendly, mostly good-humoured people that are often curious to the visitor.
Small Ugandan boy with a genuine smile

Gadhafi National Mosque
An enormous building seen from virtually everywhere in the city, the grand mosque of Kampala has an interesting history, a beautiful interior, and the best views of the city from its minaret.
It was impossible not to note the large building on Old Kampala Hill when I was on my way to the Kasubi Tombs. I had read about the history of the mosque, and decided to pay a visit later on. After a few hours, walking back from the tombs, it was very easy to locate the mosque: it dominates the skyline of the city. When I passed the gate, a friendly guard hooked up with me and led me to the huge terrace on top of the small prayer hall at ground level. A big brass-coloured arch indicated that the main entrance would have been somewhere else; we used the stairs on the side. The wooden doors of the mosque were closed and my guard took care of that. I entered a vast space which, according to the guide, could house some 7,000 male muslims and, on the first floor, some 2,500 for women.
Arch and cupolas of Gadhafi National Mosque

Kasubi Tombs
A great opportunity for a look into the kingdom of Buganda is a visit to the Kasubi Tombs which, apart from housing the tombs of former kings, occupies an important place for the Bagandas.
A friendly Ugandan girl was nice company on my way to Kampala that morning, and she arranged a boda-boda to take me directly to the Kasubi tombs. Once on the back of the motorbike, I felt exhilarated: the weather was nice, people sympathetic, I was on my way to a place I had never been. Once we had left the terrible traffic mess of central Kampala and the air started flowing through my hair, it all gave me a feeling of freedom. All too soon, we arrived at the entrance gate of the Kasubi tombs, my first goal of the day. Looking like a sturdy hut with thatched roof that can be seen in other places in Africa, I soon realized that this structure was much stronger and of high quality.
BujjaBukula or Gate House of Kasubi Tombs

Jinja
Right at the source of the Nile, Jinja is a bustling, diverse town with various things to do, see, and explore in the surrounding area - not more than a few hours from the capital Kampala.
After a longer than expected bus ride from Kampala, I was happy when we finally crossed the Nile at the Owen Dam. I was told that the bus would not even stop in Jinja at all, and I got off at a roundabout. Walking next to this road was not interesting; fortunately, a van stopped and offered me a ride. Once in downtown Jinja, I said goodbye to my new friends, and walked down the main street. At the old police station, I asked a boda boda (motorbike) driver to take me to the source of the Nile plaque. After driving across the railway bridge over the Nile, he turned around with a puzzled look in his eyes, and I immediately knew he did not know where he was going. I was sure we were not far from my destination, and asked him to let me off. He also did not have change, and a passer-by was friendly enough to give me a little money to pay the driver. Also this guy, born and raised in Jinja, did not know where to find the plaque. He accompanied me through fields of green, down to the river, where pirogues were lying on the shore, and fishermen were chatting under a tree, with cows grazing near the river. Whenever I asked about the memorial I was looking for, they pointed to the river, and told me that I could take a tour of the river with them, to the source of the Nile. No one could help me - so I just stood there, watching the flow of the water; the river is already quite wide here, just off the northern tip of Lake Victoria.
Landscape at the source of the Nile near Jinja
http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/africa/jinja.html

Botanical Gardens Entebbe
Not just a fine collection of trees big and small, but also perfect for a stroll on which you will hear and see all kinds of birds and monkeys - and views of Lake Victoria.
It was a fine day in Entebbe, on Lake Victoria, and I had waited deliberately for the afternoon to walk towards the Botanical Gardens. Walking east of the main road towards Kampala through a quiet neighbourhood, it was easy enough to spot the main entrance. After paying the entrance fee, I received a full-page receipt, and walked down the main track. Lined by tall palm trees, it turns next to the Department of Land and Survey, and then, various trails can be chosen. I looked up a giant umbrella tree, with branches fanning out in all directions - an appropriate name for a tree. I spent hours walking the tracks and trails of the Botanical Gardens. I wanted to be on myself, and had chosen not to accept the offer for a guide.
The branches fanning out in all directions give the name to this umbrella tree

Sipi Falls
The waterfalls of Sipi are nice enough, but the experience is spoilt by the way the location is exploited by the local guides: a clear case of how tourism can have wrong effects.
The minibus to Mbale fills quickly, and we are on our way in no time. But getting out of Kampala turns out to be a lenghty affair, and even though I have asked twice if the matatu was really going to Mbale, and have gotten positive replies, it turns out that it was stopping in Iganga. Shortly before arriving in that town, I am moved to another matatu, with a mzungu on the front seat, while I am squeezed into the back. Even though the matatu is full, the assistant on the bus keeps on shouting our destination to waiting people at the roadside, and the bus gets always fuller and space scarcer. The white girl gets a quite big boy on her lap, and the row in front of me has a guy with a live chicken under his seat. The closer we get to Mbale, the more stops we make: every person getting off means that someone else can get on, and we end up taking more than five hours to reach Mbale. There, I am told that the minivan to Sipi leaves from far away, and that I need a bodaboda. However, after less than 100 metres, the driver stops, and I get into the minivan. I refuse to pay, and a little quarrelling goes on. In the end, everyone sees my point, laugh at the driver, who quietly disappears.
The canyon and cliff over which the third waterfall of Sipi thunders down

Buggala Ssese Island
An archipelago of islands covered in lush tropical vegetation, fringed with beaches, surrounded by calm waters, and inhabited by friendly people make the Ssese Islands your ideal destination to wind down - right in Lake Victoria.
The Ssese Islands have long been on my wishlist, so when I have to wait a couple of days in Kampala for a visa application, I take the matatu (minibus) to Entebbe, a bodaboda (motorbike) ride to Nakiwogo landing, and wait for the Kalangala ferry to leave. I am happy it is in operation: for a long time, the Dutch-built ferry was out of service, and the direct link to Ssese Islands from Entebbe lost. There are also smaller boats, but on big Victoria Lake, these are a risky operation, and every year, people die because their boat is overloaded, breaks down, and/or disappears into the waters. I buy myself a snack to eat, and sit on the grassy beach, just like the locals, until the ticket counter opens. When it does, issuing tickets seems to take a long time. When the lady receives money, she crumples up the money before putting it away, and I thus get a wrinkled 10,000 shilling note in return after giving her a 20,000 shilling note. The ferry leaves at exactly 2pm, and the ride is pleasant, even though it gets surprisingly chilly. Soon enough, we cross the equator, and the first Ssese islands come into view, and after a little under three-and-a-half hours, we sail into Lutoboka Bay on the northeast coast of Buggala Island. There are plenty of lodges right on the lakeside, with beaches, and out of convenience, I decide to stay in the one next to the pier. I walk up to Kalangala, the main town on the island, and already get some great views over the bay and other islands. Monkeys are playing in the trees. It is a great feeling to be here: so relaxed, clear air, friendly people: I immediately feel at ease. On my way down, it is already getting dark, and a guy on a motorbike stops and starts talking to me. In many cases, I would have thanked him and continued walking, but he brings his offer of guiding me around with such flair, and a genuine enthusiasm and belief in what he is doing, that when he drives away, I seriously consider accepting his offer, jump on the back of his motorbike, and explore the island - instead of renting a bike and doing it on my own.
Southeastern coastline of Buggala Island

Pictures from Zambia

Kiambi Lower Zambezi
Probably the best way to go on a safari is by canoe, and one place to do this is in the lower Zambezi river, where you can spot big game and birds while going with the flow through marvellous landscape.
The memory of my only canoe safari back in 1989 was still on my mind: even after doing many safaris after that, I remembered it as the best safari I ever did. When the chance was there to go back to the Zambezi river and do more canoeing, I was excited about the chance to relive the experience. I realize that, much younger, I once floated down the same stretch of the Zambezi, past Mana Pools on the Zimbabwean side, for 6 days - this time, we would only have 3 hours. The drive from Lusaka turns out to be pretty straightforward, and after installing in tent-huts with great views over a bend in the Zambezi river and Kanyemba island, we are ready to explore the camp and the surrounding area.
Yawning hippo in the Zambezi river before sunset

Pictures from Zimbabwe

Victoria Falls
The majestic spectacle of the Zambezi river plunging into a deep and narrow gorge, forcing an eternal spray into the air, is what makes Victoria Falls irresistible - and a very wet experience as well.
Instead of driving back from the north of Botswana to Johannesburg, we change our plans and opted for a visit to Victoria Falls instead. Not the day trip which many do, but a couple of days to enjoy one of the star attractions of Africa at our leisure. I have been to the falls already twice, but I am still looking forward to my third visit with distant memories in my mind. As soon as we arrive in Victoria Falls, the town, I notice big changes. From a sleepy town, it has changed into a commercial hub, spreading out, where everyone seems to hunt down visitors, and earn some money on them. There is the constant roar of helicopters in the sky. But worst of all: you pay a hefty USD 30 to enter the grounds every time you want to see them; even those born here have to pay an entrance fee. Oh, what happened to the time when the environment was pristine, when you could just walk past the spectacle of the waterfalls any time you wanted to...
Rainbow over the gorge into which the Zambezi falls