Guinea

I recently returned from exploring the Fouta Djalon, a mountainous region in northern Guinea. La République de Guinée has the same land area as Britain, and is one of at least four Guineas in the world (along with Bissau, Equatorial and Papua New). I travelled with Fiona, a long-serving education volunteer based upcountry in Karantaba. I chose Fiona because she speaks a little Fula, is tough and resilient (upcountry volunteers are used to eating squirrels and pine cones, and sleeping up trees to avoid attack by hyenas), and she can be diplomatic and good humoured (which I calculated would be useful if we were taken hostage at any point). Fiona chose me because I speak a little French and am scared of her, so she could make me carry the bags most of the time. 

Gambia to Guinea Overland

Our overland journey from Banjul to Labé lasted thirty-two hours. We crossed on the first ferry to Barra, picked up a geli-geli minibus headed for Basse, near the far eastern extremity of The Gambia. At one point the geli-geli abandoned the road to take a woman to her village, and we bounced over ditches and tree roots as we raced down small tracks more intended for donkey carts than motorized vehicles. Banjul to Basse is usually sufficient for a day’s travelling and we arrived late in the afternoon, but we had only just started. We located a sept-place leaving for Guinea almost immediately, and just had time to eat a bowl of rice and stock up on water for the journey. These vehicles do not run to any schedule but depart when they are full. We filled the last two places, which potentially saved us a lengthy delay.

A sept-place is a vehicle with seven places (you see; told you I could speak French) and are usually a more comfortable way to travel than cramped minibuses. Typically these cars are Peugeot 504s with three rows of seats. French West Africa is full of these vehicles, acquired second-hand from Europe. But they only operate as a sept-place in Senegal and The Gambia. In Mali they are known as neuf-place, and in Guinea it can be onze, douze or even more. For one of our journeys later in the holiday we had twelve inside the car (plus three children) and six on the roof, sat on top of the luggage. For this overnight journey no-one was consigned to the roof rack, but we had ten adult passengers and two children plus the driver and his apprenti. Fiona and I shared the middle seat with an elderly Imam and a fat man. Three passengers squeezed into the front row with the driver, sharing between them the two seats the gear stick and the hand brake. And there were three in the back with two children on laps. And the apprenti sat in the boot.

We reached the border into Senegal just before it closed. We waited for the immigration officer to finish his evening prayers, and received the first of many stamps in our passports. This man was honest and friendly, so we did not have to part with any bribe this time. (Apparently it is much worse when you cross borders with your own vehicle). As the route continued through the Senegalese night, the driver kept stopping to pick up supplies for his family not available to him in Guinea, giving us a chance to stretch, rearrange limbs and buy snacks.

We drifted in and out of sleep. Somewhere in the dead of night we were bundled out of the car and completed immigration procedures into Guinea. From this point the road was terrible, strewn with boulders and full of holes. There is no tarmac to be seen, just an orange scar of sand and rocks cut through the hills. Several times, where holes not-yet-repaired from the rainy season were too deep, or where abandoned trucks blocked the way, we had to find alternative routes and diverted haphazardly through the trees.

I don’t know how the driver stayed awake, driving for twenty-one hours on difficult terrain. Just before dawn (still only half way into the journey) we reached a river crossing and had to wait for it to open. The village was awakening and I found a mug of tea and some bread before the ferry carried us across and we continued on the road. With dawn light in the sky we could admire beautiful Guinea for the first time. Compared to The Gambia’s barren flat dustscape, Guinea is a country of exquisite beauty. The road climbed escarpments and dropped into valleys. We saw panoramic vistas of hills and forests through morning mist.

We arrived in Labé in the afternoon, found a hotel, drank Coke, showered, and slept. 

Doucki

The next day, refreshed and recovered we were fit to travel again, this time to Doucki in the heart of the mountains. First we changed some money. In total we used six different currencies on this trip; Dalasi in The Gambia, CFAs in Senegal, Francs in Guinea…and then we also carried pounds to buy Dalasi, Euros to buy CFAs, and Dollars to buy Guinean Francs. It all got a bit confusing. 10000 GF is approximately a pound. The largest bill in common use is 5000 GF (about 50p), so when we changed $200 we received a huge pile of notes in return.

Travelling from Labé to Doucki required two further overfilled taxis and took most of the day, despite being a relatively small distance. The first taxi took us as far as Pita, a busy bustling hard-faced sort of place, and there we had to use our Fula and French to find a car going to Donghol-Touma, which could drop us in Doucki as it passed through. Many drivers were keen to hire us the whole car, but we insisted that yes, we really did want to share the ride like regular Guineans, and eventually we understood that we had to wait and a car would come later. Our destination was a bit remote and there were not many cars per day. This gave us time to explore the market, stock on water and provisions, and buy a delicious liver sandwich for lunch. A car did come. A helpful man remembered to fetch us. And we arrived in Doucki just before nightfall.

       

In Doucki we stayed in the compound of Mr Hassan Bah, who offers basic guest accommodation and guided hikes in the Fouta Djalon. We stayed for five nights, during which time occasional other visitors came and went, mainly French independent travellers with their own hired 4×4 and driver. It is easy to explore the Fouta Djalon, you can go pretty much anywhere, but as there are no maps or signposted trails, it is also easy to get lost. We benefited greatly from the knowledge and guidance of Hassan Bah, who took us to waterfalls, ravines, villages and viewpoints in a four-day hiking extravaganza. It was awesome.

        

Dalaba

Next we enjoyed a week in Dalaba. This place used to serve as a countryside escape for French colonial administrators from the coastal capital, Conakry, and there are random incongruent colonial buildings, still used or abandoned, dotted amongst local housing. Once again we enjoyed fantastic local scenery and hiked in valleys encircling the town.

        

Mali-ville

Our last stop in Guinea was Mali-ville, which sits at 1400m on the Massif de Tamgué. This is a remote spot but the road from Labé to Mali-ville climbs through stunning mountain scenery, crossing the River Gambia not far from its source. Mali-ville is cold and has no electricity, and was our departure point for a final long hike. We hired a porter/guide for the thirty-mile walk back into Senegal, which descends the face of the Tamgué range, meanders through forest, crosses open plains in the baking heat, and contributes blisters to the feet. It was a fantastic walk, but thirty miles is a long way with a bag on your head, and we were not all in good humour when we arrived just before dusk in Dindafelo, a Senegalese village where we found a campement in which to stay the night.

        

Return through Senegal

It was amusing the next morning to find that there would be no transport out of Dindafelo until market day four days later. So we searched the village and found a vehicle from the education authority making a visit to a school, and persuaded them to take us on their return journey to Kedougou. After two nights there with more resting and cold drinks we made the final jouney home by sept-place (seven people this time!!) from Kedougou to Tambacounda, another to Kaolac, another to Karang (the border back into The Gambia), and one more to Barra, before crossing by ferry back into Banjul.