This morning I said my goodbyes to Tuters and to the awesome staff at Big Millys (Noah, Seymour, Padwa - I will get your photos on soon).
I decided to make a clean break of it so it’s goodbye to sugary bread, goodbye to all you lovely aid workers, how the country would survive without you I dont know! (We found out the other day that you can pay two grand a month to clean up other peoples shit in a Liberian refugee camp - fantastic!)
So anyway for me its off to the voodoo countries starting with Togo. Although i’ve caught a few bush taxis recently, im still new to the more long distance journeys. After the standard fight about who’s bus to get on, I opted for the nearest.
The back seat looked particularly airy and spacious, it wasnt until we got going that I realised because the floor is higher up you cant rest your legs to well, and all of your weight goes between a pivot point on your ass and the hard seat. About five minutes in the pain was so bad I think I had some kind of Endorphin/Adrenalin rush. I manged to alleviate some boredom/pain by engaging in a game of ‘who can get the most leg room’ with a big african momma by the side of me. The rule is whenever you go round a bend and the natural intertia throws you to one side, if the bend gives you the advantage you have to keep your leg in its new spot, and vice versa for the opponent. To keep a good measure on who’s winning you can use the rusty nails sticking out of the seat backs as marker points. After about 2 and a half hours of this we made it to the border, she still had loads more space than me, but I think I gained a little
It took me a few minutes to remember border town frame of mind, we work on the principal that everyone is scum, it hasn’t failed us yet and in the majority its true. I managed to shed the normal hangers on, refused the bribes, and viola im in Togo.
I cant remember what the general consensus is on Togo, which is nice because I arrive in an unbiased frame of mind. So far I like it, the people are relaxed, the food seems better. Im speaking (attempting to) french again, and the city has that classy french feel about it, bread comes in sticks, and people ride motorbikes instead of drive cars. In fact even the taxis are motorbikes and thats what im taking back to the hotel right now (photos to come)
