Eventually we reached the border crossing, the rain was absolutely hammering down. No-one else in the taxi needed passport stamps, so they all wished me luck. I ran out of the car and across the sopping mud, it was like a scene from a war film. The border crossing was a bit like the McDonalds drive thru, lots of windows and you never know which ones to stop at.
First up was the Benin border police, to stamp me out, they werent to happy that I never got stamped in. They refused to stamp me out unless I gave them about a tenner (lots of money here!). I said okay no problem dont stamp me and ran off to the next window.
I am now on Nigerian ground running pretty fast because of the rain. I inadvertantly ran pass the Nigerian police, they shout at me ‘Is this how you behave in your country!?’ By this time I was finding my form and I told them if its raining yes! is this how you welcome people to your country!? We argued for a while then he saw the british passport and backed down, I stopped short of reading the message from the queen on the inside page, the one about letting us pass safely through.
So far so good, I havent paid a penny. Up next some sort of disease control ‘can I see you vaccination certificates?!’. Despite having all the injections I only had formal certificates for the yellow fever, I thought the rest were optional. So I had to pay a little bit here, there were a few other stops most fairly easy, I had to pay a little to the Nigerian Passport control who werent impressed by the lack of Benin passport stamp, other than that I got off quite lightly.
I managed to find the taxi, who despite threatening to drive off without me did wait. The road from the border to Lagos was pretty crazy, every 100 hundred meters or so there was a check of some sort, from all kinds of organisations - police, customs, forestry commisions, militant vetinarians, armed gangs (they call themselves communes). I think you generally get stopped by about one in six of the checks, normally the taxi driver just gave them a little cash, but occasionally we had to get out and do the whole nine yards. We got stopped a little bit more because im a white man, the other passengers were pretty apologetic for the behaviour of their countrymen.
Eventually we arrived in Lagos, which is a huge place with so many people, I think it may be the largest city in Africa population wise(?). I had agreed that the taxi driver would drop me off at a hotel in Lagos Island, right in the thick of it. The rest of the passengers had already been dropped off before the Island, so it was just me the driver and his mate. The traffic is super slow and went through some pretty sketchy neighbourhoods, the local tribal gangs come up once in a while with big sticks and deman their protection money. Eventually we arrived in the central market, I couldnt see the hotel, but the driver found me a guide and booted me out.
We started walking through the tight streets of the market, me with my heavy bag. I wasnt sure if I liked my guide, so I opted to hire a rentacop from one of the many business doorways. Every proper business has at least three armed guards outside, they are generally pretty friendly and for some small cash will help you out it you feel a bit threatened. So off we trot.
We get to the hotel and the guide was actually pretty friendly, I was just a bit jumpy after the journey. It turned out the hotel had closed down, but he found me another one across the road. By my standards it was a bit flash, but I wasnt going to walk around looking for another. My new mate the rentacop checked the room out for security, he decided it was okay. I paid them both and then sat in my hotel room, I had arrived.
It was only just after midday but had already been a long day. If I was to get out of Lagos fast I would need to sort out my Cameroonian visa pretty quickly. I ventured out onto the streets and they werent that bad. Money changing is best done on the Black Market as with most places, so I used a guard to oversee a change and then got him to find me a moto taxi for the Cameroon Embassy.
The Embassy is on Victoria Island, which is a pretty flashy place and home to all the expats and embassys. The drive between the two islands on a overpass is pretty special, there is amazing contrast between the rich and poor and the population density is crazy. The city has golf courses, lawn tennis clubs and marinas but is surrounded by poverty and has shocking crime rates.
The guy in the embassy was pretty friendly, but told me I had to pay in dollars, which I had just changed to Naira! It would have to wait until tomorrow. Back on Lagos Island I wander around for a bit and then nip into one of the many fast food joints for dinner, as the sun goes down I decide to stay in the comfort of my hotel room and watch TV - which even had the Chelsea match on.
In my bedroom I encounter the most frightening thing so far, a massive spider! About the size of my fist and pretty quick too. I think in an unarmed fist fight he would of easily taken me down, we eventually come to a compromise and he hangs out in the bathroom.
Despite the luxury of air conditioning I dont sleep well, i think mainly because the day had been such a buzz. Its difficult to explain what Lagos is like, in some places it felt like something from Mad Max. I made a few smaller observations which may help with the big picture.
On a high unprotected foot bridge is a big sign ‘Your life is important to us, Nigeria needs you alive’.
The motorbike drivers all have their handlebars turned upwards so they can fit through the super crowded streets, your knees get pretty close to the cars at times.
I saw one guy carrying a heavy box on his head, he kicked a bike out of the way, the bike bounced into another man and broke his finger. The man complained a little and then carried on about his business with his other hand. Life here is pretty tough.
