Sour Leone

The doctors gave me the all clear to keep travelling after another visit and some more IVs, so I started making my way to the Liberian border. Originally I had planned to visit some more national parks in Sierra Leone, but all the medication was making me feel very weak and I didn’t feel like hiking was on the cards. The drive to the border again took longer than expected, first I had to wait for more than three hours for the 4x4 to fill up so by the time we reached the border town of Jendema it was getting late. There was a United game on that evening, and not wanting to miss it I decided to spend the night rather than keep travelling. Border towns are not usually great places, and Jendema was no exception, a lot of shady money changers and motorcycle trying to rip you off, but I found a cheap guesthouse watched the boring 0-0 game and then walked to the immigration office the following morning. I had heard bad stories about this frontier and I soon found out why. I got into an office with the very rude officer, who refused to give me his name but I gathered it was Mr. Kamara. Nobody wore uniforms or badges here, giving it a very unofficial feel. Mr. Kamara told me my visa wasn’t the right kind, and that I would have to pay 100 US dollars before I could walk out of his door. This was of course not true, but he pointed to a note on his wall that he had printed off as proof. There was a lot of arguing, all I wanted to do was leave the country and I really had to bite my lip to try and stay polite, but my blood was boiling on the inside. Eventually he agreed to “help me” and I got the price down to 150 000 Leones which is roughly $20. Then I had to go to the health inspector Mr. Clifford, and to no surprise he claimed that my yellow vaccination book was incomplete as I didn’t have a cholera stamp. Once again I knew this was bullshit, but in that environment you are very vulnerable, with him holding on to my documents and an armed guard watching over my every move. He said my options were to go back to the nearest hospital a few hours away, get the vaccine then wait ten days for that to be confirmed, plus I’d need to pay for a new Sierra Leonean visa as Mr. Kamara had stamped me out, or I could give him some small money and he would wave me through.

I hated doing it, but I gave him a ten dollar note, and I was out of Sierra Leone with a sour taste in my mouth after having loved the country for my entire stay, these corrupt and cowardly men had ruined it. On the Liberian side, I had no problems at all and after getting a shared taxi and a motorbike I arrived in Robertsport. I walked around looking for a place to stay, but the limited options were all overpriced and not quite in my budget range. Then I met Kadala, an 18 year old boy who lived in town with his grandfather, he said they had a spare room with a mattress and that I could stay there. I gladly accepted his generous offer and we made our way to his house.

Robertsport is a small fishing town with Lake Piso and green mountains on one side and some wonderful beaches with nice surf breaks on the other. I stayed for two nights, constantly with Kadala and his 15 year old friend Ibrahim in tow, which although it might sound ungrateful got kind of tiring after a while as I am used to being alone and having more freedom to do what I want. So early on Sunday morning I gave Kadala some money to show my appreciation and got a shared taxi towards the country’s capital Monrovia.