Africa in the SeventiesAfrica Virus

I had been infected with the “Africa Virus” a long time before I put a foot on the "Black Continent". When I was a kid, René Gardi who lived in the same Bernese suburb, Rossfeld, as us, showed films of his expeditions into deepest Africa, on Swiss television.

Living in South Africa

Already during my apprenticeship, I realized that I wanted to spend some years abroad. Then, it was relatively easy to emigrate to Australia or South Africa. South Africa provided more support to potential immigrants, without requiring a serious commitment. My girlfriend Margrit agreed to try this adventure with me.

If I remember correctly, we arrived in Johannesburg in March 1974. There, we were picked up and looked after by members of a government organization. We had food and lodging, and we received addresses of potential employers. Soon, we both had a job and we rented a self-catering flat at the Mariston Hotel, below Hillbrow. In my field as a radio and television technician I could not find an interesting job. I was a bit too early in the country, as the television age only started in 1976. Therefore, I settled for repairing the photo automats were installed in railway stations and outside shops, for Photo-Me. Later, we looked out for a more affordable apartment. Because we had decided to stay in the country for only two years, we bought some second-hand furniture, and even made some of it ourselves. After a short while, I was transferred to Durban, where we worked together on the photo automats. After about half a year, my boss wanted me to get back to Joh'burg, but I liked it better in Durban, so we resigned from Photo-Me. My girlfriend found a job again at the Durban branch of the Joh'burg company where she had worked before. Since TVs and antennas were already being sold by various companies, long before one could receive a TV signal, I found a job in my learned profession quite easily.

At that time, living together unmarried was not forbidden in South Africa, but it was frowned upon, which caused problems for us in our apartment search. So we decided to get married in South Africa.

During the two years that we spent in South Africa, we used our holidays and long weekends to visit mainly the provinces Eastern Transvaal (Mpumalanga) and Natal (Kwazulu-Natal). Twice we had family visiting us and with them a visit to the Kruger Park was a must. From Durban the shortest route was through Swaziland, where there were only gravel roads on our route.

It was still the apartheid era and we, as whites had only advantages. Job reservation, i.e. certain jobs and occupations were not available for blacks, worked well for us. It was easy for us to find a job. Today, this is the other way around, and the affirmative action benefits the blacks. But then, because of the separation of races and the ban of blacks in the white areas at night, there was little crime in cities and we could safely walk around, even at night. In the townships and homelands, it was quite different. However, we were already aware of the disadvantages for most of the population, but until 1976 there was nothing to be read and heard in the media. At that time, however, it was already clear that the situation was not sustainable on and it was assumed that the future for the white population (10%) was not going to look good in the long run.

Preparing to return to Switzerland

We had always planned a limited stay of two years, and in 1976 the prospects did not look rosy for us in South Africa. So we were thinking about returning home. We had saved some money, even if the currency decline to the US dollar had diminished the balance on our bank account somewhat. Luckily, it was not a problem to exchange Rand to US dollars, as we had feared.

Buying a flight ticket and take the direct way back to Switzerland, was a bit too easy for us. So, we decided to return by land. The plan was to drive to Mombasa and then ship the car to Alexandria (Egypt). The Suez Canal had become usable again shortly before. It had been closed since the Egyptian-Israeli 6-day war. From "Alex" we wanted to travel through North Africa to Morocco, then by ferry to Spain, then via France to Switzerland.

We bought a used VW bus, which I rudimentarily converted to a camper. At least we had a refrigerator, which could be operated with gas, 12 and 220 Volt. There was no chimney installed, so gas operation was only possible when the sliding door was open. A two-burner gas cooker was also installed with two big CADAC gas bottles placed between the two front seats.

Because of the international boycott against South Africa, we drove to Swaziland to register the bus there. Through the Swiss embassy, were able get new passports in Switzerland, without any South African stamps. We took other steps as well to cover up the traces of our stay in South Africa.

We lacked information about what to expect on our trip, as there was no internet. Instead of a GPS, we had a Michelin set of maps for Africa, which were considered to be reliable. Travel guides were not known to us either. But we were young and quite carefree. Especially me!

South Africa

As far as I remember we started our journey in May 1976. By now we where three on board, as we had the young cat, Blacky, with us. Since we had never visited the southern part of our host country, we first drove to Cape Town. We crossed the Transkei (Wild Coast) as fast as we could as this homeland was then considered an unsafe and dangerous area.

In stages we reached Cape Town, where it was quite cool, rainy and windy. We visited the Cape of Good Hope in the erroneous belief that it was the southernmost point of Africa.

The next destination was Johannesburg. We stayed at gas station in the Karoo for the night, there were no campsites in this region then. The next day was a Sunday and from there to Kimberley only very few vehicles were to be seen on this major road. And we visited The Big Hole of course. From relatives, we had received the address of a missionary near Pretoria, which we wanted to visit. As we passed Johannesburg, the riots in Soweto took place against the Afrikaans lessons. We did read about it in the local newspapers, which was quite extraordinary at the time. At the missionary, we were given a room which we were glad for as it was quite cold. The next day we visited the simply furnished but clean hospital. It seemed strange to us that there was not a bed for everyone, some had to be content with just a mattress.

Rhodesia

At the border crossing at Beitbridge, which is now infamous for its chaos, we left South Africa without a problem. At the Rhodesian customs (Zimbabwe), we requested to get the entry stamp on a sheet of paper. The country was still governed by a white minority and was also boycotted by most countries. There were times when you could only travel between the big towns in convoys with military escort. This was lifted just before our arrival, but we were a bit uneasy when we saw the armed men in camouflage suits. Were they regular soldiers or terrorists supported by neighbouring Zambia? Mugabe was then their leader. In Bulawayo, the campsite was located more or less in the zoo. We had animals in cages next to us.

The next day we went on to the Victoria Falls. There the bridge over the border, river Zambezi, was still closed for motorised traffic. But the railroad was still crossing with freight wagons. It was also funny that we could take a tour by plane over the waterfalls, because actually, the two countries were at war. But we curved several times over Zambia. It was not very pleasant however, that because of the air pockets, one of the passengers filled a paper bag in the small plane!

Botswana

Since the bridge was closed for us, we had to travel to Zambia via Botswana and cross the Zambezi by ferry in Kazangula. We managed to get the exit stamp from Rhodesia again on a sheet of paper and we had our first stamps in the new passports from Botswana.

Apart from the gravel road along the Zambezi to the border post, we did not see much of Botswana. It served us only as a transit to Zambia. As the ferry approached, I took photos. There was a civil official that watched me and he wanted the film, because it was prohibited to take photographs at the border. After a long discussion, I was allowed to keep it.

Zambia

On the Zambian side, the immigration officer wanted to know why we had only stamps from Botswana in our passports. Without much thought, my wife said it was because we came from South Africa and in Africa the country is not much liked. I had, I believe, a short heart attack, and I could see our trip to Kenya ending right there. But the officer just stamped our passports without further questions.

On the way to Lusaka there were some police check points, I remember one of them. The policeman asked us if we were terrorists. We were a bit confused and did not know what to answer. Was he making a joke, or did he want to say "tourists"? Did they make this kind of jokes in a country that gave terrorists shelter and was in war with their neighbours? We decided to answer yes. He did not react negatively, but wanted to look into the car’s trunk. For younger readers, it should be noted here, that for decades VW vehicles had the engine in the rear. This was also the case with our bus. Politely, I showed him our engine room. He was astonished, but we were able to continue.

In Lusaka, we had to visit the consulate, because at that time one could not communicate with loved ones at home by e-mail, SMS or the like. Overseas telephone connections were complicated and expensive. We informed the people at home long in advance about our destinations, and they sent letters to the respective consulates and embassies of Switzerland. Sometimes also to a post office. For the consulate in Lusaka we had an address, but no idea where the road was. Finally, we asked a taxi driver to take us there. He took us to the industrial area where the consul was, head of the Bosch branch in Zambia. The consul handed us the letters personally, and we had a short chat with him.

Our VW bus had only the interior made as Camper, plus a roof rack. The only modification that I made was to fit stronger shock absorbers. There was no additional tank for petrol, just two portable 10 litre metal canisters, which we assumed to be adequate. We also had tablets for water purification and a 20-litre plastic water can.

In South Africa, Swaziland and Rhodesia the petrol supply was so good, that we always got through with it. As already mentioned, we had almost no information on the countries we traversed. We had no travel guide. Did they already exist?

When we drove from Lusaka to the border of Tanzania we could not refill with petrol. There were petrol stations but they had no supplies. At some point the engine started to stutter and we could only drive to the roadside and stayed there. So what now? We stood around for a while, thinking about what to do. Suddenly an Englishman came with his Land Rover and trailer. He stopped and asked if we had a problem. Luck was with us, in his trailer he had several 20 litres army jerry cans, which he wanted to get rid of. One was even filled with petrol. We bought it from him and then at last we found a petrol station that still had supplies.

Tanzania

Somehow, we knew that an animal import permit was required for Tanzania. But it was not clear whether it also applied to pets. We had asked our vet in Durban for sleeping tablets for our cat Blacky. As he had instructed us, we gave her the tablets about an hour before the border. When we arrived there she did not sleep, but became more and more aggressive. After two hours, we gave up hope that she would go into Morpheus's arms. We were worried that someone would put his finger into the cat’s basket or maybe assumed that she had rabies. But nobody cared about the cat at all. The interior inspection of the bus was very superficial. The border crossing was also easy, unlike the stories that we had heard from others. Shortly after the border, the cat finally fell asleep and we could take it out of the basket again. In the middle of the night she woke up, but was so dazed that we put her back into the basket, for her safety.

The first problem with our bus occurred shortly after Tunduma, when the battery’s warning light came on. The regulator on the alternator had given the ghost. From there to Dar es Salaam, we spent the nights at petrol stations which had a charger to which we could attach our battery. Yes, we had only one battery and solar panels were not on the market yet.

Once we were invited by an Indian gas station owner to dinner and we were even able to change money. He would rather take a traveller’s check than cash. His interest in foreign exchange probably came from the fact that he was concerned about the developments in Uganda as he told us. He feared that Tanzania like Idi Amin, could chase all Indians out of the country.

In Dar es Salaam, we found a workshop which could replace the controller. We were allowed to stay on the grounds of a hotel a short distance out of the town. We camped a few days there to recover from the journey so far. Since Cape Town we had been travelling almost every day.

The food supply in Tanzania was relatively difficult. President Nyerere had tried to introduce the communist collective system. What did not work very well in Russia also had to fail in Africa. The shelves in the shops were practically empty, with just some Chinese conserve to buy. I had to beg for butter in the restaurant of a hotel.

Locally, one could get some food here and there. For example, around Arusha and Moshi, which were known as fertile areas, there were fresh vegetables on the market. In Mwanza there was margarine, because they were produced and packed in cans at a local factory. However, the transport of these goods was inefficient. We were told that farmers were encouraged to rather plant cotton. However, as the transport to the factory was unorganized, the farmers retained their harvest.

We also visited Lake Manjara National Park. Pets were not allowed, but nobody noticed our cat. This time, we did not try to hide her before entering. This park is famous for its lions who climb into trees to rest there. At the lake, we saw hundreds of flamingos - a lake in pink. Here our bus had to serve as an ambulance when a park visitor was stung by a scorpion and we were asked to bring him to a nearby lodge where there was an in-house doctor.

Sadly we did not see Kilimanjaro from Arusha, as it was hidden by clouds.

Kenya

We left Tanzania and drove to Nairobi where the engine had to be overhauled. The bus had been sold to us with an indication that it had a replacement engine. However, gradually it became clear that there was a problem. At Cooper Motors, they discovered that the oil pump did not match the engine block and the lubrication did not work 100%. The camshaft and some other parts had to be replaced, which made a considerable hole in our travel budget. During the repair, we stayed in the secure part of the garage for a few days.

In order to pay for the repair, we tried to change money on the black market and naive as we were, we promptly got scammed. With the “exchanged envelope” trick the guy stole some travel checks. These were replaced, but it took days to get it done. We learned our lesson and for other similar transactions we positioned ourselves so that we could cut off the trader's escape route.

Thereafter, we stayed with a distant cousin of my wife, who was teacher at the hotel school in Nairobi. At his house, we came across a young lean dog, who was feeding on the garbage bins. As we felt sorry for her, we often gave her the remains of the cat food. Then she adopted us and we decided to take her with us, provided that she proved to be healthy. The veterinarian confirmed this, except for the obligatory deworming. She also had the required vaccinations and he wrote health certificates for both pets. From then on, we were four.

The dog was named Nelly. Blacky the cat showed her right from start who was the boss. At the age of less than one year Nelly, was very playful, and probably had no experience with cats. Her approach was a bit too fast for the cat. Blacky but her claws on to Nelly’s snout and sorted her out. She still liked to tease the cat, but now she knew to avoid the claws. In the bus, however, an armistice prevailed, as they kept their distance from each other.

In downtown Nairobi, we mostly travelled by public transport. If we had to drive, one of us would stay in the bus, while the other one went shopping.

We then set out for the coast, because we wanted to get to Mombasa to organise the shipping of the bus to Alexandria. It was not easy, we had to find the shipping companies inside the harbour. Only one gave us a quote, but we could not spend several thousand US$ for that trip. At that time the American currency was worth about four times more than today. In the end, it meant giving up our plan to travel home via Egypt.

We then drove to Malindi to have some time to consider an alternative. On a beautiful beach with an offshore coral reef, we stopped for a few days. Here we decided to go back to South Africa, sell the bus and then just fly home the conventional way.

Back in Nairobi, we were looking for friends we knew from South Africa. They had started shortly before us, but they had stayed longer than us in Botswana. Somehow we had learned of an unofficial campsite and looked around there. We did not find our friends, but spotted one of these older VW buses with a separate front windscreen and German license plates. Sigrid and Edwin had driven here from Cape Town. Now they were looking for someone, to travel with them through the Zaire (Congo), Nigeria, Algeria, to name only a few countries. This route without a 4x4, seemed quite risky to us and we could not straightaway agree to join them. We promised to think consider it, but were actually convinced that it was not an option. How it is when young people are presented with a muddled idea …? Gradually, we convinced ourselves to take the risk, although we had little information and no idea of the risks involved.

Preparation for Trans-Africa

There was not much to prepare, but the petrol problem had to be solved. Since the purchase of the 20 litre jerry cans in Zambia, we were able to carry 110 litres, but our bus was quite thirsty on tarred roads and we expected worse on unpaved terrain. In a scrap yard we found a Volvo truck tank with a capacity of 120 litres. The only possible place for this was on the self-constructed roof rack. The fact that the bus now was pretty top heavy didn’t worry us too much.

We also had to decide on the exact route to take. The shortest route to the Zaire (Congo) led across Uganda, but the rule of the infamous Idi Amin made it too risky for us. The Kenyan newspapers reported on his terror regime, and it must be remembered that President Kenyatta did not really lead his country democratically either! To reach Rwanda, we had to go back to Tanzania and take the shortest route through the Masai Mara and the Serengeti Park. With a cat and dog? Let’s do it.

In Nairobi we arranged visas for the countries we planned to visit. This was done within a few days.

Tanzania - Rwanda

In our youthful arrogance, we were confident that we would somehow be able to travel through the Masai Mara and the Serengeti with our pets. As a matter of fact, there was no control of the interior, either in the parks or at the border crossing of Kenya-Tanzania. We locked the cat in the cat's basket, and the dog stayed well on the ground when we ordered it. This was quite amazing for a former street cobbler who was only about half a year old.

We had a litter box for the cat, but the dog had to be let out at times. We did this from time to time, somewhere in the open plains when no other vehicle was to be seen. We drove the whole route through the two parks in one shift. We also saw some animals, very often such large herds of wildebeest as I had never seen before or since then.

At the Rwandan border, the customs officer was obviously drunk, and wanted to have look at the roof rack. It was not so simple, because one had to climb on the back of the driver's seat. But he managed to get up and down without crashing.

Soon thereafter we experienced a bush fire. We could only see the smoke but we felt the heat. It was scary, because we did not know if and when it would reach the road.

The capital Kigali was small and quite manageable, but at the main junction there was indeed a traffic light. Here, we always had to watch out when we turn right that we did not end up in the left lane. From Rwanda onwards, it was driving on the right hand side of the road. This was unusual for us, who had been going on left side of the road for more than two years. When Edwin was leading, he often had trouble with it.

Rwanda was a favourite for us. It is very hilly and there was a lot of forest. There was even a restaurant where you could order fondue, a typical Swiss melted cheese meal. We spent a few days at Lake Kiwu before driving to Zaire.

Before we left Rwanda, we filled all tanks and canisters with petrol, because we had no idea when we find fuel again.

Zaire

I have no memories of the border-crossi ng to Zaire, so I assume that nothing special happened. We were, however, the first travellers entering there as the country had only recently reopened its border to foreigners. Presumably after one of the many revolutions, or attempts to get rid of the president. On the first stage we passed the volcano Ruwenzori, which was later mentioned in the media when it erupted. We did not know that the road ran through a park. When we came to the Virunga national park, we were stopped by a policeman. He saw our pets and wanted to see the health certificates. Luckily we had certificates for both that were issued in Nairobi. He studied it for a while then asked me if it was from a veterinarian. He was not illiterate, but French was the official language in Zaire and the testimonies were, of course, written in English. After I had answered the question in the affirmative, we were allowed to continue.

In Zaire, we practically drove all the way through the jungle. A more boring journey could hardly be imagined. Tall trees left and right, occasionally a small hamlet with a few huts, less often, a small town. In this tropical rainforest, however, it rains quite frequently, which caused several problems for us.

The first problem came when we had to drive through ditches with steep slopes on both sides, with a water hole every hundred meters. It would have been very time-consuming to first walk through each one of them. So, for the sake of prudence, I drove on the edge so that two wheels were on the slope and two were rolling through the waterhole. One of these puddles turned out to be much deeper, the bus tilted heavily to the right side and almost fell over. With extreme caution, I took the bus out of the dangerous slant. An inspection of the roof gutter showed significant damage, which was no wonder, with such steep slant, 140 litres of petrol, a spare wheel and some small things. Later, when the large tank was empty, I moved the luggage rack 10 centimetres, to stop it from sliding off completely at the next occasion. Once Edwin and Sigrid drove in front of us through a village, where recent rains had made the strongly curved and loamy road extremely slippery. When I saw the other bus slipping, I just said "Ohoo" and then it was very hard to prevent us from landing in the ditch. But we were lucky and managed to stop both cars without damage.

The third and most difficult problem was a mud hole in a ditch. Here Erwin drove through quite well but we got stuck. To recover a vehicle from mud is quite difficult. Pulling it out was not an option. The other bus would have been buried too, as the dry soil was too far away. We tried to shovel the mud away from under the bus. It was a tedious and never-ending job in this very hot and humid climate. After a while, a truck arrived with many men on the back. Since we blocked the way, they all helped to shovel and push us free.

In these tropical areas there were frequent rainfalls. Once, we were happy about it, because we could top up our scarce drinking water supplies. We used all possible containers to collect the water dripping from the corrugated metal roof.

We managed to find accommodation either in missions or in villages, where we were always a big attraction. Especially the children watched us non-stop from our arrival until we went to bed. In the mornings, we did not know whether they were still, or already, there again. As a rule, they kept a reasonable distance, but the constant stare becomes annoying with time. It was also amazing, that when we stopped on a supposedly empty stretch in the jungle, it took only a few minutes until people appeared from nowhere.

Our companions had taken many old clothes and exchanged them for all kinds of objects. Among other things, a lance, bow, and poisoned arrows. If we did not see them behind us, we never knew whether they had stopped for a break, or to barter.

Once they were offered a chicken in exchange for a piece of plastic tarpaulin. A living chicken. They planned to keep it for dinner, but to transport in the car was a problem and it was locked in our cat basket. But he did not close the lid properly and while driving the chicken suddenly fluttered through the bus. It was caught, properly locked up and slaughtered that evening.

We had to cross the Zaire River several times. There were no bridges, only ferries. Actually, these were state-run and for free, but presumably the staff did not get any, or maybe not enough pay. They always asked money or diesel. The latter we did not have, our buses were running on petrol. Once they had no battery to start the engine. The starter needed 24 volts and we removed the two 12 Volt batteries from our vehicles, and connected them in series. The ship's engine started running at the first try. It would really have been bad luck if they had drained our batteries.

Our petrol supplies held quite well. Only on two occasions was it a bit critical. Once there was no electricity at a petrol station, but luckily the pump could be operated with a crank. The second time the supplies had

run out as low water level prevented the transport ship from reaching the place for a long time. When we heard that the ship had just arrived, we quickly drove to petrol station, joining a relatively short queue. Then the tank truck came with the precious liquid. But when it was our turn, the attendant told us that we could only fill the tank and no canisters. Edwin’s bus was not equipped with an additional tank, only jerry cans on the roof rack. To fill the 120-liter tank, I had to climb onto the roof. We first filled our standard tank, then I handed Edwin the tap to refuel his. I then climbed onto the roof porter and he handed me the fuel hose. The attendant started protesting and complaining, but I just ignored it. We did not know where and when we would get petrol again. Sometimes one has to be a bit selfish. Edwin also climbed on to his roof and I handed him the tap again. Eventually the attendant gave up and stopped shouting.

The roads were often very washed out. That forced us to drive slowly. Some days we hardly got to the third gear. When the fourth was used, it felt like home on the highway. I can remember when we managed only 120 kilometres in an eight hours’ drive, without getting stuck. It was an average speed of 15km/h.

At times, we had to change money. In a somewhat larger town there was a bank. Here we wanted to exchange Traveller’s Checks for cash. But the bank sent us to the Portuguese shop close by. The shop owner first wanted to know who had sent us to him. He looked a bit sceptical as we told him. But we got our Zaire money. Exchanging money on the black market was prohibited in Zaire and most other African countries.

When we arrived at the border of the Central African Republic, we knew that we would again encounter a ferry. The customs were really uneventful, but then we were stopped at a military checkpoint. The officer showed us English Pounds which he wanted to exchange at an astronomical rate. When we refused, he started to inspect our buses. In our fellow traveller’s bus, he found the spear and a bow with arrows. He stated we would have to pay customs duty for arms exports. When we argued that these were not weapons of war, he changed his argument and talked about a wood export tariff. Two hour arguing with him did not help, the weapons were confiscated. As Edwin did not speak French, I had translated everything. A soldier took the souvenirs away. Edwin watched him and noticed in which cabin they were put. Later, he tried to retrieve them from the hut, but was caught. This enraged the officer, who was not quite sober anymore, very much and the situation became critical. The people from the nearby village disliked the corrupt officer and they stood on our side. The debacle caused us to miss the last ferry of the day and we had to stay in the tiny border town. We were not comfortable, because we did not know if the officer would harass us again.

Central African Republic

The next day, we entered the neighbouring country without further incident. CAR was then notorious for its President. Jean-Bedel Bokassa , like his idol Napoleon, let himself be crowned emperor. He was already suspected of cannibalism at the time of our visit.

We had to pass many, very annoying police checkpoints. At the smallest village there was one and you had to be registered in a log book. The Swiss driver license had no number, which one had to to write in the appropriate column. To avoid the expected problems, I wrote the Form number that was printed at the bottom of the license. Luckily, Edwin had a German License and we had different numbers. At each control, the officials begged for money, pens or petrol for the bike. Edwin, still without any French knowledge, was left in peace. I also tried not to understand. But that was not so easy. When asked by the policeman for a specific document, I would hand it to him spontaneously. He then became suspicious and asked how did I understand that. I pretended to be stupid and ignorant, and got away with it.

Apart from police controls, there was the “rain barrier”. At one place the barrier was closed and we were not allowed to continue, because it had just started raining. It could be that the next dip would flooded,

was the argument. Our counter-argument of little precipitation which only started a few minutes ago, was accepted an we continued our journey. We drove through without any problem.

At the last check before the capital Bangui, we were informed that we would have to register at an office in town within 24 hours, and unsubscribe before departure. This total surveillance showed that Bokassa wanted to have full control. In the city there were apparently some French, because we found a store with many products imported from France. Among other things, milk and cheese, but at prices which did not suit our budget. Later we learned that previously, a local dairy factory was producing milk and cheese, but the government forced it to close.

A German aid worker allowed us to camp in his garden. He owned a tame mongoose and several tarantulas as pets. We found the mongoose funny, but the other hairy critters not so much. Especially as when he showed them to us, he let them run free in the living room.

I had to obtain a spare part for the bus in the city, and for the first time I used a taxi. It was probably also a novelty for my fellow passengers, because they kept on checking me out, during the whole trip. I was used to stand out as a Whitey on the road, but in such a small space, it was something else.

Cameroon

This country is stuck in my mind because of the beautiful landscape in the north and the friendly people.

Upon entry, the customs officer wanted to see an insurance policy for the vehicles, besides the usual documents. We had none and he asked us if we had the green (European) proof of insurance. Sigrid and Edwin had travelled with the bus from Germany via India to South Africa and they could present one, although it had in fact long expired and he obviously did not notice that it was not valid for Cameroon. But

he would not let us through. We would have to drive 80 kilometres to the next town to get the insurance. I tried it my way. We had INTRAS travel insurance from a Switzerland, and an illustrated booklet which explained the coverage. I explained that this covered everything including our car. Finally, I was able to convince him and we were allowed to enter.

As already mentioned, we liked the hilly landscape in northern Cameroon very much. A big change from the days in the jungle, where we could only see tall trees left and right of the road. Here, a lot of millet was planted, but not so much corn as in the south.

When leaving the country, the officer stamped all the usual documents, but then asked for a fee. When we wanted to know what for, he explained it was Saturday and it is for customs for the weekend. When I told him that we could wait until Monday, he changed tack and wanted film for his Instamatic. For younger readers, it was a very simple camera, in which one had to insert a Kodak film cassette. However, our SLR camera used film rolls. Finally he was satisfied with a ballpoint pen.

Nigeria

The next tax collector was a real pain in the back. He reduced the three-month visa we had acquired in Nairobi without comment to 30 days. Our questions why, was simply ignored. This reduction later became a problem.

The weeks-long cohabitation was not always easy and as our companion wanted to visit Natural Park, we separated for a while. We could not enter it with our animals, and, in any event, a break was welcome. We arranged to meet again in Kaduna, where the other two wanted to pick up new passports at the German consulate.

Margrit had suffered a foot injury. It was nothing serious but it began to fester and just would not heal. From our GP in South Africa we had antibiotics in case of need. She took these Bactrim tablets, but with no success. On the contrary, she started to become feverish too. Over time we noticed that the fevers occurred always after taking the antibiotic. According to the leaflet it could be an allergic reaction. In the next big town, we went to the hospital. We were relatively quickly admitted to a Chinese doctor who confirmed our suspicions. She gave us a prescription and sent us to the hospital pharmacy. On shelf’s we could see many large "candy jars" with pills in all colours. The man behind the counter counted the prescribed number of pills out of one of these jars and wrapped them neatly in newspaper. We did not know which product it was, but they worked and that was ultimately the main thing.

In Nigeria, we could again drive on tarred roads, but sometimes there was only one lane. So you had to stick to the rocky edge while cruising and that had to be done carefully because most of the time there was a big drop. Meeting an approaching car was not a big deal, but truck drivers maintained their right of way. They just stayed in the middle of the tar. After a while I was fed up and I did the same. The then trucks also veered away to avoid a frontal collision.

Today I wonder how we found Sigrid and Edwin again in Kaduna. We had no cell phone and no e-mail to arrange a meeting. The passports had not yet arrived at the consulate from Germany and with the reduction to one month of our visa, time was running out for us. On the Friday, before it would have expired on Sunday, we went to Immigration and asked for an extension. The reasoning made no impression on the chief official and he refused. Instead he asked me to come back on Monday. When I told him quite undiplomatic, that one might be a bit more helpful in Kano, he stuck Margit's and my passport in the drawer. His only comment was to return on Monday. I refused to leave his office without our passports or at least a receipt. He called two of his assistants from the hall and they dragged me out to his office. I swore in Swiss German, but unfortunately, I also let an English swearword escape. That was too much for the chief. They would not let me go now and considered calling the police.

Edwin, who made one more visit to the consulate also arrived and went to the chief. He put his two passes without a word in the drawer and sent Edwin out. As he was informed about my mishap, he wisely said nothing. Margit then tried to smooth things a bit and succeeded partly because he told her that he could extend the visa only once they have expired. He could have told me, but maybe it was only an excuse. Anyway, I was still so to speak, under arrest and perhaps on the way to a dreaded Nigerian prison. As Edwin was told that he could go, I gathered all my courage and went out with him. No one stopped me.

The food supply was quite good in Nigeria, only the meat was a problem. When we approached a butcher market stand, the owner picked up a newspaper and waved it over the meat piles, then one million flies would take off. Then we could choose a piece. It did not matter what cut we chose, it was always tough. We put it a few days in vinegar and boiled it then a long time in a pressure cooker.

After an uncomfortable weekend, we went back on Monday to Immigration. The two German passports had at last arrived that morning, but we needed an extension anyway to the next day, to leave the country. At Immigration they required a written justification why we needed a visa extension. We told the officers that this was possible only in German, as our written English skills were not enough to do so. They then agreed to question us. It was clear from the questions, that they suspected us of wanting to do some work. We could not really say that we only wanted to leave this unfriendly country behind us, as soon as possible. After a long interrogation, we were then finally granted a few days to reach the border and we could leave the country without difficulty.

Niger

In northern Nigeria, the country was already dry savannah, but long before Agadez we were in the desert. The rubber blocks on the suspension of Edwin's bus were broken. They prevent the suspension from slamming against the chassis. The track was of course again gravel and sand, and not one of the best, so the parts had to be replaced. He carried the spares with him, so we did it on the spot. After lifting the vehicle with a hydraulic jack, we put two stands under the rear. To improve the access, we had taken off the two back wheels. When we were both under the bus suddenly the stand on my side tipped when it sunk into the loose soil. I lay on my left side and the car shook my right chest. I could only breathe very shallowly and feared for my ribs. Sigrid luckily knew how the jack worked and rescued me from the uneasy situation. Somehow we finished the replacement of the blocks.

In Agadez, the loan mosque was the symbol of the small town. There was a campsite outside town. It was something we had not seen for weeks. The pool was the main attraction. It consisted of a large cement ring which is often seen as a water reservoir in Africa. We did not worry about the water quality, but I have a memory of a rather turbid liquid. It was more important to us that it cooled us off a little. The camp was the meeting place for Saharan travellers and we learned a lot about what awaited us in the north. Some of the cars were smeared up to the roof with sand. They had experienced a rare rainfall in the desert. Others warned us of an Algerian police control, which confiscated all alcoholic beverages. Supposedly, the Grand Mufti of the area had forbidden alcohol.

At the market, we bought some food, tins of sardines and corned beef as a meat substitute and some of the few available vegetables. Then we went on to the next town, about 850 kilometres away. Tamanrasset was our goal and is in the Hoggar Mountains.

Old oil drums served as signposts, but because there was no dust storm in recent times we could follow the existing tracks. The first kilometres led through a wide plain on which we saw a lake. We were afraid that this was from the rain of the last day. We also saw bushes, but strangely we did not come closer to the water. Some time passed until we realized that it was a mirage.

Algeria

On the border of Niger and Algeria, we were ordered to take out everything we had in the bus. There were already cars that arrived before us, and they had offloaded all their belongings in the sand. We decided to only take out what was lying around and wait and see if the officers were happy with it. So it happened, we were able to continue before the others had repacked the cars.

The VW bus was equipped with an air-cooled engine and the hot air did not cool optimally. We had no temperature indicator in our bus. Edwin had one retrofitted to measure the oil temperature. Therefore, we decided that he would say when it was time for a break. It happened so that a truck driver stopped and asked if everything was okay. In the late afternoon we went on, until just before sunset. Finding a parking space was not a problem here, a little away from the road, there was always room. Our first night in the desert was a great contrast to those in the jungle. Nobody was watching us. At night, it cooled down quite a lot, so sleeping was pleasant.

In the Hoggar Mountains, we encountered very steep slopes where our weak motorized and heavily laden buses struggled. Edwin told me that the reverse gear is the smallest reduction and therefore bringing most power to the rear wheels. Therefore, in reverse we could overcome the obstacle.

Tamanrasset was again a place with a campsite and a post office. At that stage, Algeria was at that time in the middle of a green revolution and it was difficult to find your way around. All non-Arabic signs had been painted over with green paint. The post office, and the Bank, had barred windows that made it a bit easier. Our families had sent letters to be kept at the Post Office. When I asked for our correspondence, the postman wanted me to deliver all letters with foreign names. He said the people were probably also in the camp. I refused to play ball, and the postman and just took our letters out of the stack.

Sigrid and Edwin made a two-day trip to the hermitage Assekrem. We remained at the campsite because I did not feel well. I probably suffered from lack of salt. When I took more of it, I felt better quickly.

Until Tam the track was relatively good and we did not get stuck in the sand. The so-called corrugated humps were also rare. But between Tamanrasset and In Salah, we got stuck a few times and often because of the soft ground we reached just 60km/h at full throttle. Once the normal track was so corrugated, that

we followed tracks off the road. After a few kilometres, we were faced with a small but, for our 2x4 vehicles, insurmountable dune. Since we had no GPS and not even a compass, we had to try to follow our tracks back to road. Fortunately, there was no sandstorm at that time.

Driving in convoy also had a disadvantage in the desert. Depending on how the wind was blowing, the second vehicle drove in the dust cloud of the leading vehicle. Without air conditioning we were forced to keep windows open. Edwin's bus had a second problem. Every time he lifted the foot from the accelerator, an oily cloud came out of the exhaust. He had to fill-up with oil so often, that he feared running out of it. Edwin knew that the oil control rings had to be replaced and luckily he had the parts.

So we decided one morning, middle of the desert, to replace the parts. Edwin was a mechanical engineer and knew the engine inside out. Under his guidance, we removed the engine, using petrol cans and boards as slides, took it apart, exchanged the rings of each piston and built the engine back together. The bolts must be tightened with a certain Kg/m value. This is normally done using a torque wrench. Since we did not have one, Edwin took the normal ratchet, pushed a 30 centimetre long tube over the handle, then attached a spring balance at the end and pulled up to the prescribed kg x 3. I still think it was very clever.

Edwin had many tyre problems in the desert. Our bus had tubeless tyres mounted, which in those days was unusual for sand rides. In Edwin's vehicle, the tyres had tubes. Inside his tyres the canvas was ripped and scraped on the inner tubes. This punctured the tubes now and again. We both had only one spare tyre each, but ours fitted on his bus to. Crossing the Sahara, we had to patch tyres practically every evening. The worst part was to inflate them. I doubt whether there were 12 Volt compressors on the market then and we had to do the sweaty work with a foot pump. Fortunately, the thing overheated after a while and then we could take a break.

On our bus the front stabilizer broke, but we could drive without it. In fact, the vertical movement of the front axle was improved. The bus would not have passed the moose test, but that was unknown then.

Our cat copped well with the heat of the Sahara, but the dog suddenly had trouble with it. She panted permanently, which was still normal, but one day she no longer wanted to drink. We put a wet cloth on her back to cool her a bit. As she refused to drink water, we added milk powder. That suited her, and in this way we could prevent her from dehydration.

At that time, road workers were building a tarmac road from Tamanrasset to In Salah. This was completed in stages and not yet opened. Boulders were blocking the completed stages, but we could drive a few kilometers on it. From In Salah onwards, we could use the new tar road. Until the capital Algiers, it was no big deal and we managed more than a thousand kilometres in stages and without a problem.

The evening before we reached the coastal town, I could hardly sleep. Since Nairobi we had not passed through big towns and I was not sure whether I would be able to handle the traffic. In the morning, we had ice on the windows, but it thawed quite quickly. We were at about 2,000 meters above the sea and it was already end of September.

Traffic in the big city turned out be no big issue for me, but Edwin was involved in an accident. We drove behind him when suddenly a car stopped just in front of him. He damaged the bus, but just but drove on. We had no chance to catch up with him.

In Algiers we parted ways. Sigrid and Edwin could not leave the African Continent from Morocco as we had planned. German citizens at the time needed a visa for this country. Due to the dispute with Algeria about the Western Sahara, which Morocco had annexed, the Moroccan embassy in Algiers was closed. Therefore they went to Tunisia, to take a ferry from there to Italy.

On the Mediterranean coast, it was now quite cool and for the first time since the Central African Republic, we had rain again. But we were glad that we were again able to buy food everywhere. From Agadez to In Salah, we had lived mainly on rice with, alternately, sardines or corned beef. During this time, I was imagining all the fine things that I would eat at home. Hash browns, sausages and the Swiss specialities like Roesti, Raclette, Fondue and more.

Morocco

The border crossing was nothing special, except that for the first time I had a car symbol stamped in the passport. Otherwise, we always used the carnet, which was stamped as a customs transit document on entry and exit. Here, the purpose of the car icon was to prevent me from exiting the country without a vehicle.

My father joined us for a week and with him we visited the cities, Meknes, Fez, Rabat and Casablanca. The first two were the most interesting, because they still had an intact old town (Medina). The other two were modern cities and particularly Rabat had some monumental buildings.

Twice we had to deal with the police. Once I was stopped for overtaking at a solid centre line. But when he saw that we were tourists, I was let off with a warning. The second time a police officer stopped us and tried to sell us some police lottery tickets. Since we would not be in the country at the time of contraction, we did not buy.

In rural areas, people were very nice and hospitable. But in the larger towns we encountered very aggressive salesmen and beggars. Even the small kids wanted money, for guarding the car, and when it was denied they cursed us.

In Tangier, we visited a veterinary practice to obtain new health certificates for our pets. From there we drove to the Spanish enclave of Ceuta. We were on the African continent but with a bit in Europe too. Here, all was duty free, so we filled our tanks with cheap petrol. Then the ferry took us on the short trip to Algeciras Spain.

Europe

The rest of the route was not very eventful, except that health wise it went not so good for me. I felt uneasy and tired. A bit like having flu.

The last night before Switzerland we spent outside of the French city Lyon. It was in the beginning of December and very cold, actually freezing during the night. We had the dog and cat with us in the sleeping bags to keep them warm.

One more customs experience was surprisingly waiting for us at the Swiss border. Ironically, in Geneva the Swiss customs officers made a huge thing of our return home. It began with the fact that he saw the Morocco Stamps in our passports. Ok, I had long hair and wore one of these typical North African coats with a hood. First, he wanted to know if we had hashish, which we denied. "Are you sure?" he asked and he told us that could examine the entire car and then we would have to pack back everything. We confirmed that we had no hashish in the car. He had a short look in to the bus and asked again about hashish. "No, no hashish!" He was getting boring.

Then he came to animals. As we had dog and cat, he suspected us to carry snakes or parrots too. At that point my anticipation about the return to Switzerland was a bit subdued. While still in the desert, our dog

had dug out a camel skull, which I mounted on the roof rack. So I led him, to the front of our bus, and showed it to him and said: "On the way we had a camel, but it died some time ago." I did not know whether he recognized the joke, but he asked again about hashish and by then I was fed up with his litany. I told him: "Listen, if I had hashish I would give you some. We really have NONE!!" Then, at last, he let this topic go.

But, in his opinion I should declare the vehicle for customs duty. I told him that per Swiss customs regulations this is classified as “household effects”. We had bought it more than six months before and we had lived for more than a year abroad. Therefore, it was customs free. His face showed a big surprise, and he admitted that he had no knowledge of it. But as he told us, a colleague in the office was responsible for such things. Meanwhile it was now lunch time and his colleague would only be back at half past one. We had to wait more than one hour. After speaking to him, I was sent to our friend at the gate, to get a form, on which The Swiss Home Affairs had to confirm my absence for at least one year. This I then had to present to customs in Bern.

As I always say: "There is a bit of Africa everywhere.”

We arrived home a few days before Christmas. Still feeling ill, I visited a doctor, who discovered that I had jaundice. I was probably infected in Morocco, where we were a bit lax on hygienic precautions. Sadly, my dreams in the desert about hash browns, local sausage and so on had to wait. A six-month diet, free from fat and alcohol was waiting for me. Three weeks later, Margrit showed the same symptoms.

Summary

The journey lasted 6 ½ months and we covered roughly 30 000 kilometre.

In addition to the damage to the engine, a few smaller reparations was necessary underway, but we managed that ourselves.

Only one of our road tyres had a defect, which is incredible considering the long distances that we travelled over unsurfaced roads.

We had to scrap the VW bus after the police in Bern took us off the road. A test at the traffic offices came up with flaws that showed that the bus was unsuitable for the good Swiss roads. On the African roads we had not problems with it! The test and traffic fine was more than Fr. 500, which was a lot of money in those days.

Except for the infection in Margrit’s toe and the hepatitis contagion, we were never ill.

The pets survived the exertions quite well, without any long-term effects. Nelly, the dog lived for 13 ½ years and the cat even 20 ½ years. As a street roamer Nelly would have died much earlier. Ok, the camel did not make it, but that was not our fault .

We experienced with this journey the type of adventure that would not be sensible today. Political and road conditions would make it almost impossible. The roads in the DRC and Republic of the Congo have deteriorated significantly since then. The activities of islamic terror groups have made the northern region of Nigeria, Niger and the south of Algeria far too dangerous to travel through. Planning such a trip in detail was not really possible.

With hindsight, our journey was far too rushed. We should have taken our time, but our financial situation and the lack of information made the planning of an extended journey impossible.

If you want to see more pictures then click HERE.

Acknowledgment

At this point, I would like to thank Douw Kruger, whom I met through the South African Overland Forum. He was so nice and took the trouble to edit this travel report.