Dag 42: Akure na Abeokuta

(English Translation Below)

Dag 42: Akure na Abeokuta
 
Die dag begin met 'n mislagie en wolke. 'n Vals belofte van koel weer. Die pad begin mooi: kronkelend in 'n tonnel van groen. Plek-plek palmbome. Dit voel of ons êrens aan die Natalse kus is.
 
Maar êrens dwaal ons onwetend af van die roete wat die motorfietsklub aanbeveel het, en ons beland op 'n pad wat 'n snelweg wou wees, maar nou gebruik word as twee toevallige parallelle paaie waar enige iemand in enige baan in enige rigting kan ry. En die middelman 'n vry zone wat lukraak gebruik word om van die een parallelle pad na die ander te gaan, u-draaie te maak, dood te stop. Dis vreesaanjaend. Karre en vragmotors steek mekaar verby met geen ontsag vir wie of wat van voor af kom nie. Skielik ruik iets nie lekker nie. Dan vang ons oog dit terwyl die verkeer ons meesleur: 'n Dooie mens! Net so laat lê. Moes al 'n paar dae gelede gebeur het.
 
In Abeokuta ontvang die plaaslike motorfietsklub ons weer, wys ons die reuse rots-formasie waar die stad sy naam gekry het: Onder die klip gebore. Hulle wil kuier en ons die dorp wys. Ons wil rus ná 'n lang dag se oorweldigende verkeer en hitte. Dis 40 grade Celcius. Ons poseer alweer vir fotos. Elke moontlike konfigurasie van groepfotos word geneem. Al wil ons mooi saamspeel raak ons glimlagte al meer aangeplak. Wens ons die buitengewone aandag wat ons trek kan ophou.
 
Later plaas Firekiss (die klub-voorsitter) 'n kaart van Wes-Afrika voor ons. Vra ons uit oor ons roete. Sê ons moenie deur Guinea ry nie. Paaie te sleg. Eerder Mali deur na Senegal toe. Of Liberia en Sierra Leone. Ons het nie visums vir een van die drie nie. Sal in Accra moet ambassades besoek vir visums as ons ons roete wil verander. Dit gee ons die naweek om te dink. Ons is nog nie eers aan die Wes-Afrika kus nie en die lang woestyn-afstande en politiese risiko's van Noord-Afrika begin plek kry in ons gedagtes.
 
Maar môre ry ons Benin toe en hoop om 'n plek te kry om rugby te kyk. 'n Oomblik van ontvlugting. Dis die finaal en ons is aan die Bokke se kant...;-)
 
Day 42: Akure to Abeokuta
 
The day starts with a hint of mist and clouds - a false promise of cool weather. The road begins beautifully: winding through a tunnel of green, palm trees here and there. It feels as if we're somewhere on the Natal coast.
 
But somewhere along the way, we unknowingly deviate from the route recommended by the local motorbike club, ending up on a road that hoped to be a highway, but has been relegated to two coincidental parallel roads, where anyone can travel in any lane in any direction. The middleman becomes a free zone used arbitrarily to switch from one parallel road to the other, make U-turns, or stop abruptly. It's terrifying. Cars and trucks pass each other with no regard for what's coming from the opposite direction. Suddenly, there's an unpleasant smell, and our eyes catch it while the traffic sweeps us away: a dead body! Just left like that. Must have happened a few days ago.
 
In Abeokuta, the local motorbike club welcomes us again, showing us the giant rock formation from which the city got its name: "Born Under the Rock." They want to socialize and give us a tour of the town. We just want to rest after a long day of overwhelming traffic and heat. It's 40 degrees Celsius. We pose for more photos. Every possible configuration of group photo is taken. Even though we want to be polite, our smiles feel increasingly artificial. Wishing the extraordinary attention we attract could stop.
 
Later, Firekiss, the club president, places a map of West Africa in front of us. He asks us about our route and advises against going through Guinea. The roads are too bad there. He suggests going through Mali to Senegal or considering Liberia and Sierra Leone. We don't have visas for any of these. We'll have to visit embassies in Accra for visas if we want to change our route. This gives us the weekend to think. We haven't even reached the West African coast, and the long desert distances and political risks of North Africa are starting to take hold in our thoughts.
 
But tomorrow, we ride to Benin, hoping to find a place to watch rugby. A moment of escapism. It's the world cup final, and we're on the Boks' side... (Ons is aan die Bokke se kant...;-)

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