This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: D'Abidjan à Carcassonne : La Guinée

^{As my primary language is not English, there are probably some mistakes in my translation.}

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (@vcelier), but @terresco, a French guy.

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Leaving Abidjan to join France by road, after three days blocked at the border by fussy customs, we finally entered Guinea.

There are three Guineas in Africa. Guinea Conakry (now officially "Republic of Guinea") named after its capital, Guinea Bissau, a magnificent country producing delicious cashews and Equatorial Guinea, where they speak Spanish and is already distant from West Africa.

Guinea Conakry is a beautiful country especially with the region of Fouta Djallon, with an atypical landscape in this part of Africa. It was also a complicated country in the early 90s. Two previous trips to the capital and the coast had posed a lot of difficulties, say administrative.

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It was early July and the rainy season has dictated its law, soaking up already difficult tracks. The first 40 kilometers in Guinean land took us almost four hours. We walked at a slow pace, between large pools of muddy water, sometimes hiding fallen tree trunks requiring the winch. The place was very isolated, you should not lose your temper and want to cross too quickly at the risk of breaking and having to abandon the vehicle and the trip here.

Finally the effort and concentration paid off, the track became better, even rolling. The mud had invaded the car, clutching our feet during land reconnaissance. At every moment its priorities. We started to have a comforting feeling, the satisfaction and even the pride having overcome the difficulties. It was not going to last.

We had to go to N'Zérékoré to find a hotel but the time lost at the customs and on the track had allowed the night to catch up with us. It was time for the road-cutters, feared at that time, they were blocking the way with a big tree trunk to rob you. Difficult to say what was the share of reality and fiction but we feared them and we tried to avoid driving at night.

In the kingdom of UNHCR

It was not the roadblocks that we met but hundreds, rather thousands of Liberian refugees fleeing the clashes of the terrible civil war that raged in the nearest country. On these narrow tracks you had to be very careful not to touch anyone, to drive slowly. Nobody was aggressive, they did not even care about us. Resigned, they walked towards a goal that only they knew perhaps.

The goal, as we discovered later, was the camps of the UNHCR, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the United Nations agency that manages these situations. I would spare you the chapter on the war in Liberia and neighboring Sierra Leone, the warlords, the child soldiers, the cut hands, the widespread massacres while all the cameras of the whole world were focused on the Gulf War. Some beautiful, if we can say so, books and films have been devoted to the subject since, poignant testimonies.

Suddenly flashes of light appeared, oil lamps provided the only lighting N'Zérékoré residents who were probably looking rich for the walkers. Everything is relative in the levels of misery. On a parking lot the 4x4 UNHCR and the Red Cross with their antennas characteristics of NGOs. We stopped in the first hotel which had a garden where our car would have a chance to be in semi security. Talking about hotel is exaggerated, old foam mattresses, very humid, next to which we put our blankets of survival to try to take some rest. On the floor, seeking sleep, I realized that we were among the most favored in the area.

These population concentrations are impressive. Africans in sad and silent group is rare. Those people who have nothing to lose should have had to rob us, if only for our provisions. They did not do anything, nobody approached our car and we felt no insecurity. We abandoned N'Zérékoré to his sad fate in the morning to move away from this border area.

The Fouta Djallon

The roads have become very acceptable, even good. Many were built by Chinese companies that were beginning to prepare for their presence in Africa in countries that had their communist period. We arrived safely in the mountainous Fouta Djallon.

The region is known as the water tower of West Africa for its significant rainfall. Important rivers take their source there before starting their course towards the sea by random ways. The erosion of the rock has dug gorgeous and wild gorges. We reached on foot, a little by chance, pools of water where it was good to cool under amazing waterfalls.

We spent a few days there, hiking random discoveries. The population, composed mainly of Fulani, is very pleasant, discreet and welcoming. There are tropical fruits and vegetables in quantity, most of the time we were offered as a welcome gift. It must be said that at that time Fouta Djallon was very far from tourist circuits, there were probably very few visitors, the population was happy to see us.

The narrow tracks of red laterites, hidden by the forest, seemed to open as we passed. The branches sometimes creaked on the car, we drove slowly but time passed quickly in the admiration of the landscapes and the pleasure of the many breaks.

* * * * *

The exit from Guinea was as adventurous as the entrance. Forty kilometers of a catastrophic track crossing a forest of low trees. It was necessary to probe each puddle before engaging in it. Some hid holes 3 to 4 meters deep that can engulf our 4 x4. When the hole was too deep and occupied the entire width of the track, you had to make your way through the forest with machetes. Work complicated by the presence of bands of monkeys, dog faced baboons not to mention them, particularly aggressive.

In front of us, Senegal

-- @terresco

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01: From Abidjan to Carcassonne, the first crossing, by @terresco

Encounters with Africa series:

01: Encounters with Africa: Ivory Coast, by @terresco
02: Encounters with Africa: Abidjan, a daily pleasure, by @terresco
03: Encounters with Africa: The Tuaregs of Agadez, by @terresco
04: Encounters with Africa: The Tuaregs of Agadez, part 2, by @terresco
05: Encounters with Africa: On the way to the Dogon country, by @terresco
06: Encounters with Africa: Among the Dogon of Bandiagara, by @terresco
07: Encounters with Africa: The Gold Coast, by @terresco
08: Encounters with Africa: Where was born a desire to go elsewhere, by @terresco
09: Encounters with Africa: The time of failures, by @terresco
10: Encounters with Africa: The Promised Land, by @terresco
11: Encounters with Africa: The Land of the Upright Man, by @terresco
12: Encounters with Africa: From Bobo to Ouagadougou, by @terresco
13: Encounters with Africa: In the Voodoo country,

From Cape Town to Mombasa series:

01: Africa, the long crossing
02: From Cape Town to Mombasa: South Africa
03: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Namibia
04: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Botswana
05: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Zimbabwe
06: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Zimbabwe, part 2, by @terresco
07: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Zimbabwe, part 3, by @terresco
08: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Zambia, by @terresco
09: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Malawi, by @terresco
10: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Tanzania #1, by @terresco
11: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Tanzania #2, by @terresco
12: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Tanzania #3, by @terresco
13: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Tanzania #4, by @terresco
14: From Cape Town to Mombasa: Kenya, by @terresco

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