Gill and I spent our last full day in Douala taking it easy—largely because our upset stomachs  didn’t allow us to stray too far from the hotel. All things considered our stomach trouble was relatively minor, so being ill was fine; the rest was well-needed, and the simple act of going out into the sun and humidity was enough to make me wilt on the spot. Il, on the other hand, went off exploring and had many fine adventures, returning at 3:00pm where we waited until 7:45pm before dragging our stuff down to the lobby to get a taxi.

Okay. We can SO do this. (Photo by Il Kim.)

I was loving every minute of it.

When we arrived at the airport the porters surrounded the cab but we shooed them away. A man pointed out the luggage trolleys which we were grateful for—I mentioned we had bicycles. As we were walking away I heard him say to someone else: “These are the cyclists!” Even in a city of 1.5 million people our fame knows no bounds.

The departure process would have been maddening had we not several hours to kill. It was an endless series of redundant and bizarre checks—but at least it was orderly. Here’s a summary of the hoops we had to go through:

1. Check our passport and ticket before even letting us in the departure terminal / room.
2. Put us in one line; move us to another line to weigh our baggage and scribble the weight on our ticket; move us back to the previous line.
3. A man comes by to check the weight on our ticket try to collect money since my bag is over the limit. Gill freaks out at the man and he runs away.
4. While in line, ask for our ticket so it can be stamped. (I had a photocopy of my itinerary since it was an electronic ticket; Il didn’t have hers so they berated her. Il was totally flummoxed — “it’s an electronic ticket!”)
5. Pre-check-in check-in where they stamp our ticket and check our passport.
6. Finally, the check-in desk for another weigh-in, passport check and reception of boarding passes.
7. A second passport check before getting to the x-ray baggage check.
8. X-ray baggage check.
9. Show passport again to man standing next to x-ray machines.
10. Line up to pay 10,000 CFA departure fee and get another stamp.
11. Have stamp checked again before proceeding to gates.
12. At gates, have our luggage hand-checked. Explain what every item in bag is.
13. Have passport and pass checked again by another man.
14. Finally, several hours later, arrive at tiny, cramped waiting room.

It took roughly 24 hours to arrive back at Pearson International Airport, where I was miffed at having to pay to get a trolley — they’re free even in Douala! "Welcome to Canada. Hope you've got two bucks in change of the local currency!"

We took the airport coach to Union Station so we could hail a cab and ride the final few blocks home. Here I experienced reverse culture shock: the first cab refused to take us, insisting we call a van cab (which is a $30 flat-rate just to go a few blocks). I was so angry and sleep-deprived I shook my fist at him as he drove away, barely restraining my finger from popping up. We fit almost twice this much in a cab half the size in Douala! Another cabbie, however, pulled up and drove us home for a flat fee of $10.

One of my first impressions upon returning home was how trite everything seemed to me: Toronto, so obsessed with careers, status, pampering ourselves and material things. Fortunately this feeling subsided the next day. I guess I was still upset our trip was over.

Back home I thought I’d want to just curl up with a book, smoke a pipe and relax. Not so much—the trip had raised my metabolism so much that I couldn’t sit still. On my way to work the next morning I had to fight the urge to break out into a run. We don’t own a scale, but I figure I lost up to 10 pounds — all my pants are loose and my belt needs to be cinched up to two holes tighter. The Bicycle Africa diet: Pack away as much food as you can and still lose weight.

Gill, too, is like a new person: she’d been sad, overworked and out-of-shape before the trip. Now, she’s full of energy, happy and has been going to “spin” classes almost every day. And drinking Nescafé instant coffee with sweetened condensed milk. She loved the trip, and would definitely go on another. I’m planning for Mali next fall if the trip runs (or somewhere else if it doesn’t). I can’t wait longer than that—life is too short.

The gear is slowly being packed away. The Arkel panniers have been sent away to be retrofitted with their original, bullet-proof system. The Dahon is in the shop for warranty repairs to the handle-bar post.

Life goes on.

Readers have left 2 comments.

 No.2  Yay

Hey! Fantastic write up and amazing pictures. Wow.

I'm glad we could do this trip together! Two of the best weeks of my entire life! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Il Kim (Unregistered) • 2007-12-02 20:29:02

 No.1  Return

Nice ceremonial departure from Douala. Be careful greeting strangers as you walk to work. They'll think you are a bit peculiar.

David Mozer (Unregistered) • 2007-11-27 10:42:49

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