Sunrise!

We all decided to make a side trip to Togoville, although the Germans were going direct while we went a further route so as to pass through Vogan which has the largest market in the region.

The cycling on the secondary road there was nice, although we arrived at Vogan so early that the market was only fractionally full. Still, it was interesting and easy to cycle in and around the stalls.

Il sucking on porridge-in-a-bag.

Half a pot is better than none.

We then followed a tertiary dirt/sand road for a while to Togoville. In town we cycled around until a "guide" found us and took us around to the various shrines and spiritual objects scattered in the village. He also showed us the ruins of a building where the elders would trade slaves for tobacco and liquor.

Orange sellers at Vogan market.

Step by step... oooo baby!

My back was incredibly sore, however—partly from carrying my loaded bicycle up and down a series of stone steps—so it was hard for me to concentrate and enjoy myself while in pain.

After our tour we tipped the guide 500 CFA each and hired a boat across the lake to the main highway. Since this was the second such crossing the novelty was gone so I napped sitting on the bottom of the boat.

Cycling in Togoville.

Vodun shrine/altar.

On the other side of the the lake we were on the main highway to Lomé, which was boring, hot, busy, and relegated us to the shoulder of the road where we dodged schoolchildren, stopped taxis and motorcycles.

Even though we were keeping a relatively slow pace compared to how David, Il and I normally ride in such conditions it was too fast for Jorgen to keep up and he pulled off to a Buvette on the outskirts of Lomé because he was overheating. I had been hanging back behind him but he told me to go on so I caught up to David and Il and we rode together into Lomé.

Which was hell, of course.

Sacred trees/meeting place.

Kids attached to Jorgen's rack.

It was incredibly busy and the dust, smoke, sand and exhaust coated our bodies, teeth, lungs and noses. Cars, motorcycles and huge trucks whizzed by close to us while we (mostly) avoided big potholes, loose sand, pedestrians, drop-offs from the pavement, and many other hazards. The air was hazy with the sand, dust and dirt of the big industries. In the itinerary David listed agriculture as a point of interest. He should have written, "cement factories".

Lomé is much busier outside of Tabaski it turns out.

I did not get this service.

Poling across the lake.

It was a relief to finally reach our hotel—dirty and sweaty but alive at least. Lena was there—healthy, clean and rested.

After cleaning, napping and relaxing with a cup of tea we all met outside the hotel for our final dinner together although Lena and Jorgen bowed out because they had cheeseburgers and the nearby Palm Beach Hotel.

Sleepy Eric.

Coming into Lomé.

So the six of us squeezed into a cab and headed to the "Cote de Sud" restaurant where we were the only ones there. I had salad, grilled sardines, rice with ratatouille and mango ice cream for dessert which was a nice treat.

Our taxi driver waited for us the whole time we were at dinner—David must be terrible negotiator—and we all squeezed back in for the return to our hotel—although technically I wasn't "sitting" so much as leaning against the door and roof while the cab navigated the huge potholes in the streets.

Success: not dead.

Taxi squishing.

Il, David and I have a full day here tomorrow because our flight is at 11:00pm which is too bad. Now that the trip is "officially" over my instinct is to just leave: I'm excited to see Gill!!

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