This trip is turning into some kind of version of Survivor: West Africa. We lost Annie to motorized transport almost from the very beginning; Lena to malaria with Jorgen for company—and today, after our usual omelet breakfast, Andrea and Einz opted for transport instead of cycling the 85 km for today.

So today we are 3 cyclists instead of 8: just David, Il and myself.

The morning was overcast but the humidity is much worse as we approach the coast. (Clothing doesn't seem to want to dry anymore.) The cycling was very easy: net descending with only a section or two of minor uphill slogging. Best of all, the people were very friendly and there were very few requests for money or gifts.

As we were within 5 km of town a car passed us bearing two bicycles and three Yovos: our companions Einz, Andrea and Annie. Also around that time my stomach stated gurgling ominously.

We cycled into the busy town of Lokossa, passing the crowded market area and pulled into the hotel parking lot around noon, and about 15 minutes after those arriving by car. We covered the distance in less than 4 hours of cycling. (Now how can that seem too long?!?) As soon as I parked my bicycle against the wall I was running for the nearing bathroom, clutching my roll of toilet paper.

David is already over-budget for the trip so if we wanted to upgrade from a fan to A/C it would cost us 4 bucks. Of course, Il, David and I toughed it out with the fan. We like to cycle—and we're notoriously cheap! (Which is hugely ironic since these trips are so expensive—particularly the flight, which was $2,300 CAD.)

After showering I sat with Annie and Il in the hotel restaurant and greedily ate a significant portion of the fries Annie had ordered. Afterwards I basically just lay on my bed in my underwear beneath the fan and tried not to stick to the sheet. After a little while David came knocking on the door to see if I wanted to join him on a walk through town.

Benin was a communist country in the past. Can you tell?

We finished our walk, arriving back at the hotel amongst a gaggle of school children who enjoyed the sight of us and saying "Bon soir" to the Yovos.

For dinner, we went to a stall serving rice, sauce, beans and cheese and sat in the open air in chairs under a large tree. The food was good and the breeze a nice respite.

Even the smallest village has at least one barber. Every sign seems to depict a razor as though it's about to attack someone's head.

There has been some friction as of late between those who are not up to the rigours of this kind of cycling and those that are. It's a real balance/struggle for David to accommodate the weaker cyclists (Andrea doesn't want to ride the highway to Lomé, for example, on our last day because of the traffic) and those of us who hoped to cycle the trip as advertised. 

Back at the hotel David lectured about languages—Benin and Togo have about 70 unique languages between them—and then a history of slavery, for which Benin was a supply and hub. Ouidah, our destination for tomorrow, was a major slave port.

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