Traditional clothing for sale.

The morning was nice and cool and we returned to the restaurant of the previous night where Christian was happy to see us.

After our breakfast of omelettes, Nescafé and bread we hit the road.

Or, the road hit us. It was relentless climbing that greeted us today, all day. This Cameroon trip is way, way more mountainous than the Uganda trip.

We did have some spectacular, breathtaking, jaw-dropping views, though.

David says:
Traditional Bamileke formal wear is identifiable by their colorfully embroidered geometrics designs on black cloth. The shirts and pants are traditionally worn by men. Women wear an embroidered piece of cloth that is wrapped as a skirt.

We stopped in a village where David took some pictures of the baskets of peppers they were selling. At one point we stopped by the side of the road next to a seemingly empty school. After a few minutes the school yard began filling with kids — and, of course, they headed our way so they could see the crazy white people on bicycles. Indeed, David commented, "Bicycle Africa yet again empties a school!" They kept a respectful distance though and were surprisingly quiet and orderly in their wonderment.

Apparently you can buy roadside rats.

So I took her panniers.

It was brutal! The extra weight felt like chains holding me back, and I too soon found the day and climbs exhausting (keep in mind I was carrying all our gear plus almost 5 litres of very heavy water). During one particular climb a truck passed, billowing a dense cloud of black, acrid smoke so dense we had to pull over and cover our faces as we were engulfed.

David says:
It is very common to see local produce for sale along the side of the road. This house was selling coco-yams, casava (manioc) and plantains. The buyers are generally in cars passing by, heading for the bigger towns.

The curious and the brave.

David gave Gill the option of getting her in a cab or bus the rest of the way to Bamenda and she agreed. However, we met two men (Daniel and Louis) who told us that it was uphill only for the next 2 km and then all downhill – and they gave her lots of encouragement, telling her she could do it!

Il using child labour to get up the hill.

I proved a comment of David's that we were our own greatest danger on the road when I clipped Il while going fast down a hill — she had pulled over to take a picture and I hadn't pulled over to take one. If she hadn't gone all the way to the edge I hate to think what injuries my inattention might have caused.

The descent to Bamenda.

After a few wrong turns we found the hotel David had planned. Our room is huge and with a big balcony — even without a light in the bathroom, a toilet seat or even hot water it felt like the Shangri-La after Mbouda.

We took well-needed showers (although the water was so frigid we could only wash one body part at a time) and rested a bit before walking into town.

A view of the street from our hotel.

We met back up in the hotel's very quiet restaurant at 6:30pm for dinner where we all ordered fried plantain with jam-mu jam-mu (huckleberry). It was great. I also tried the local "33 Export" beer — it comes in a 650 mL bottle, too. Not too shabby for a dollar. We chatted for quite awhile before returning to our rooms. I proceeded to soak my shoes since the smell has become... appalling.

David says:
When asking local what language was spoken in the village, the initial answer was usually, "English" or "French". At which point we had to explain that we were in interested in the indigenous language. Our informant said they were eight language spoken in the separate neighborhood of Santa, but he wasn't certain of the spellings and he didn't know anything about the next language in either direction along the road. In Bamenda, itself, multiple languages are present, most of the Mbam-Nkam>Ngemba group (15 languages), but again English is the lingua-franca.

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