Carreteras españolas con Franki

A little late in posting but I'll attempt to write several posts over the coming weeks about the trip with Franki, the faithful Mercedes Benz Sprinter 211 CDI van.

Rolling out of the village with 4 bicycles and a wheelchair strapped to the roof, it was Abengourou or bust on 17th December 2016.  I really had the jitters, worried about too many things and whether Christophe and I would get on for the next week or so. He had booked as far as Nouakchott via BlaBlaCar, a car pooling website, we'd never met but had chatted on the phone twice, I had a copy of his passport but that was for the ferry booking.  I found him in a McDonalds in Perpignan just before the Spanish border, he'd caught the train from Avignon early that morning to be able to meet me. Christophe looked sane and friendly, the manager of the branch offered me a free coffee totally out of the blue; things were starting to come together, I downed the coffee and we hit the road south!

Leaving my small French village

Finally feeling somewhat more confident, we exited Perpignan and joined the A9, my first concern was Franki being quite heavily loaded and making it up the hill to the border.  She whizzed up the hill over the Pyrenees without any problem!  We got to Girona and pulled in to find a Decathlon, the bikes on the roof all needed new tyres, inner tubes and a chain.  Franki got her first re-fuelling of the trip since leaving home, we were good to go, aiming to be in Utiel that night, an hour inland from Valencia.

I'd been invited to meet Rosalia & Juancar via the internet.  They were looking for information on travelling in Africa & it turns out they had already bought a vehicle but only Juancar had been to Morocco, not any further south.  Very kindly both Christophe & I were offered beds for the night in return for information about the road south and how to travel in sub-saharan Africa.

The road from Barcelona should turn into the AP-7 and the A-7, friends told me it wasn't easy to find the A-7 which is toll free but just follow the signs they said.  We did, to no avail!  Poor Christophe was doing most of the driving at this point and I kept navigating him onto the N-340, it was getting darker all the time.  We rejoined & exited the AP-7 on numerous occasions but finally gave up, bit the bullet and paid the tolls until we turned right at a windy and rainswept Valencia to head into the hills and Utiel.

In Utiel: Christophe, Juancar, Rosalia & her mother

After a great evening chatting, Rosalia's parents gave me a lovely room at their house, Christophe went back to Juancar's place.  We waited a while in the morning for the guys to arrive, but nothing, we then discovered Christophe was exhausted and still fast asleep!  Unfortunately we had to get back on the road to make Marbella by early evening, a short but wonderful time with lovely new Spanish friends.  They left Utiel yesterday (23rd April 2017) so wishing them the best of luck!  Hope to catch up with them, Ver, Oir y Viajar, in Abengourou later in the year.

An hour or so heading west out of Utiel

The drive south through central Spain was stunning at times, the weather certainly helped us and we were thrilled when we got to Grenada, the weather was so much warmer.  We'd been invited by Jason & Eli of Mayan Monkey Mijas to talk about chocolate, the situation of child exploitation and trafficking.  Jason also offered me the use of his beautiful villa in the hills of Marbella for the night, absolutely stunning!  The following morning I picked Christophe up from Don Carlos, a 5* hotel and we set off for Mijas.  It's a wonderful small town up in the hills where we were treated to a tour of Mayan Monkey's chocolate factory and spoilt with a big breakfast ... not to mention the endless chocolate Eli gave us for the trip!

Fantastic chocolate with excellent ethics!

That afternoon, we drove out of the Marbella/Malaga region onto Motril to catch the 8h ferry across to Tangiers, the trip was really starting now!  We were ready for African soil by midnight!

Roadtrip preparation for Franki

Last weekend, for the third time in six weeks, I returned to Northern Europe to pick up "Franki"

The whole idea started via a friend of mine, Frankie who offered to sell me his van to take to Cote d'Ivoire.  Thankfully Frankie is a very good friend, as he discovered (after I agreed to buy his van) that the chassis was twisted, he backed out of the deal refusing to sell it to me.  However, I was left wondering how to return to Cote d'Ivoire.

My utility room has become a dumping ground for donations going to Cote d'Ivoire.  Some of these donations have been around for 5 years or so, despite taking endless luggage on previous trips of things the centre needs.  Suitcases that take bicycles or fridges haven't yet been invented as far as I am aware!

Found Franki in Schijndel, NL

So I found Franki, a Mercedes Sprinter 211CDI van with 7 seats and a big roof rack on top in the Netherlands.  Two weeks ago I flew to Brussels, rented a car and made a 5 hour round trip to see Franki and put a deposit down.  Luckily, Frankie the friend was there to meet me & help me decide if the van was as good as the dealer said it was, the dealer was called Frank!

Bottrop boys helping get Franki ready!

This weekend, I drove Franki back from the Netherlands via Frankie's in Germany to southern France.  She purred all the way south after Ferno, a retired French Mercedes Benz employee and Frankie very kindly got her shipshape prior to leaving Bottrop, Germany.  I spent a very short night in freezing Dijon before heading southwards over the Millau bridge to home.  The following day my mechanic gave her a once over and declared her fit for purpose whilst doing an oil change.

Franki parked up in Dijon for a night

The plan is to leave soon by road loaded with bits and pieces (including a much needed fridge that is in great condition) to take to the centre.  Whilst heading south, I will be looking at the situation of trafficking in the region.  It's a route I know well and have done before but as a passenger in public bush taxis.

This is going to be a whole new adventure but I probably won't have time to be able to keep posting on here whilst driving south; hence Franki has a Facebook page www.facebook.com/FrankiGoesTo

Return to my Koulango family

Sheep waiting with us at the northern Bondoukou police barrier

After a long six hours in the massa, trouble with the police for some of my fellow passengers south of Bondoukou followed by further problems with the anti-drug gendarmes at the northern Bondoukou police barrier, we rolled into Bouna.  It's a lovely drive, Tanda is a pretty town, stunning valley after Bondoukou then driving alongside the National Comoe Park sometimes spotting monkeys on the road.



Thrilled to see the hills of the Boukani region as we sped ever northwards after Bondoukou, I was looking forward to seeing my friend's family in Bouna.  Previously met the extended family in early April 2016 towards the end of the fatal conflict that occurred between the Peulh (Fulani) and Lobi people; where an estimated 70+ people lost their lives (official figures put it at just over 30 but it was indeed far more!).

Photo taken whilst in Bouna in early April 2016 after the conflict

Arriving at the bus station, the town had a different atmosphere to my last visit.  People were going about their business, the refugees had dispersed and returned home after almost three months in camps and there was a positive, calm air.  Greeted by my Koulango friend's younger brother as my friend was in Abidjan having had lunch together the day before in Abengourou.  We walked back to the house, part of a 'cour' behind closed gates, the extended members of the family all live in separate dwellings around a rectangular courtyard.

One of the three refugee camps in April 2016 in Bouna, housing 3,200 refugees in town

A wonderful welcome as I came through the gates, the different members of the family came out to meet me and then scurried around to get his house ready for me.  No one was aware that I was arriving!  Totally spoilt, I walked into the sitting room, air-conditioned with a television showing the 2016 Olympics from Rio.  I felt as if I was in total luxury, we don't have much at the centre for CREER not even tiled floors!  After a much-needed shower to rid myself of the dust, I headed five minutes away to an excellent restaurant where I'd eaten in April to be greeted by the staff there.

An early start, I needed to have my meetings finished by 9am to have any chance of getting transport to Doropo and onto Burkina Faso.  Firstly with the head of social services, he was thrilled to see me back waiting on his office doorstep since before 8am, unaware I'd come back to town and we had an interesting meeting, he was keen to listen to our ideas to assist trafficked children that found themselves in the Boukani region.  As Ghana and Burkina Faso are both under 100km away, it's an area that can find traffickers with children crossing the border.  Next was the police, again it all went well but unfortunately the officer I'd met in April who agreed to be CREER's representative for the region was on holiday in Abidjan.

As I left the police station, my friend's brother was outside on a motorbike talking to a friend of his, I hopped on the back of the friend's bike who drove me back to the house whilst a seat in a taxi was being organised for Doropo.  Quickly packed up my things much to the sadness of the family particularly the children, the youngest of which told me he was coming with me!  The taxi arrived within minutes, I said my goodbyes and left ... to be driven around town looking for other passengers for the 2,000CFA 1.5 hour journey north to Doropo, the nearest town to the border.

My taxi north to Doropo

Back to my second home

Deposited by my Ghanaian Immigration official near the Tatiekro border just a kilometre or so from Dormaa Ahenkro I discovered without any surprise that transport was sorely lacking.  There was a minibus without any passengers, the village was incredibly quiet apart from two boys who offered me a ride to Agnibilekro on the back of a bike.  "How much" I asked, 15,000CFA Madame ... well this Madame doubled up laughing and kept walking with all the luggage to find the Ivorian immigration post!

I got to the post, a run down dwelling with the ubiquitous steel framed bed with it's ever-present filthy foam mattress.  A few officers were standing outside whilst two uniformed officers were behind the desk. Upon opening my passport, seeing all my Ivorian stamps I got a hearty welcome back and received an entry stamp with the minimum of fuss and no mention of espionage!

Back outside I was offered a chair and we discussed transport options, a few taxi's were due to come to the village.  It was a Sunday afternoon so I didn't hold out much hope, but having done the journey from Ouaga in 3.5 days at this point I was raring to get back to the centre in Abengourou.  The most senior officer (an anti-drugs gendarme) asked me what I was up to in Cote d'Ivoire to be in and out of the country so much.  I told him about www.creer-africa.org and we had an excellent conversation about trafficking, he and some of the others took my business cards for the centre and promised to spread the word in Bondoukou where they were based.

Finally a few taxis went past, I was told to ignore them but five minutes later small car pulled up, my new found friend asked him to return when he had dropped his passenger.  I got in and was told it was 4,000CFA to Agnibilekro, after a lot of goodbyes we set off down the dusty road for a tense 40 minutes to reach Agnibilekro, the road is known for 'coupeurs de route' ambushes by bandits.

We got chatting and I arranged for him to take me onto Abengourou, I was too tired to get a minibus in Agnibilekro, wait for it to fill up before we would set off again.  He gave a very fair price for the final 40 kilometres on newly tarred road and we had a long chat about his dreams, a young guy of 24 with an entreprenurial head on his shoulders.  Finally around 4pm in mid-July 2016 I was in front of the gate at the centre, with a very surprised children's assistant thrilled to see me back!

PS.  In August, Abengourou sadly lost it's Head of Customs, he was assassinated near Tatiekro for what reason I don't know ...

Bizarre Border Day

After a 36h stop in Accra and a rather short night due to a party, departure alarm was set for 0530.  It proved to be a bad idea to try travelling to Cote d'Ivoire with my 'little brother' Charles Sablah from Nima after only 3.5h sleep!

Grumpiness set in right at the beginning, particularly when a man on our VIP bus was spotted boarding after departing Kaneshie, a preacher!  7 long hours later incarcerated on 'religious' transport our arrival at Takoradi was over 2hours late.  This was partly due to the fact our driver didn't seem to know how to get into 3rd gear, we crawled most of the way in 2nd with the engine groaning under my back seat!

Arriving at Elubo, the Ghanaian side of the border with Lampard, a driver I've been using for a few years; the hunt was on for a private Ivorian car.   We were looking to hitchhike and get as close as possible to friends living in Bassam for the night.  Lucky to spot someone with an empty car, he offered a lift despite being at work at the border.  The Ghanaian border guards all remembered me, shook hands & asked why I wasn't staying for longer.

On our way between Elubo & Noe which was heavily blocked with trucks waiting to get through customs we exchanged pleasantries and chatted about all things Ivorian.  Whilst crossing the bridge I made mention of the children that cross and a village I'm aware of ... He confirmed it all and the fact he's involved with trafficking .. Alarm bells were ringing, our conversation had been in French, he then asked Charles in Twi what I'm doing in Cote D'Ivoire, of course he'd not understood our conversation.  It all became a little complicated!

Arrival at Noe, big welcomes from the border guards who I've built quite a rapport with over the last 2-3 years with this team ... Then to bump into a colleague who was also heading towards Abidjan with her young family for Christmas.

I'm now in CI puzzling how to move forward at the moment.  Today is Sunday, tomorrow I'll probably be making a lot of calls in relation to our new 'friend' ...

Nearing normality ...?

Unfortunately there still seems to be a lot of chaos in Cote d'Ivoire.

Children returned to school yesterday, many still confused, lost & upset by the situation. Banks are due to open today; which might give many adults the impetus to re-start their lives. Fuel is slowly being distributed around Abidjan; hopefully deliveries will go further afield soon.

However, 'IB' the head of the 'Invisible Commandos' was killed in the Abobo district of Abidjan today. 'IB' - Ibrahim Coulibaly was the head of the small guerilla group that assisted Ouattara's forces to oust Gbagbo's patriots. However it seems that IB was on his own mission, continuing to fight with his militia. He was given the chance to turn in weapons to Ouattara's government or have them taken by force; along with 6 of his men and 2 FRCI soldiers, he was killed in battle yesterday.

A fellow Tweeter @senambeheton explains IB's political background & recent politics: http://senambeheton.posterous.com/in-new-ivory-coast-old-rivalries-threaten-ret

However, seeing AlJazeera shots of disturbed schoolchildren yesterday in a relatively 'quiet' area of Abidjan. I can't imagine what the children of Abobo are thinking. The trauma that they have gone through during this conflict is beyond anyone's imagination having been living through this nightmare in one of the hardest hit districts.

Yet, somewhere out there are the children that have really suffered; the children that have been living on the streets. What must have they seen? witnessed? succumbed to? How many were coerced into carrying weapons?

Time will tell if this latest drama of the crisis is finally the end of a long five months ...

Eggs ...

Having been in the UK last week, I was shocked to see the price of Easter eggs, mounted high, on supermarket aisle corners with flashy signs all over.

Looking for a present for an ex-student who was looking after my car, I was tempted to buy a 'Cadburys Creme Egg' Easter egg, together with it's own china mug. Priced at £3.00 it was set to sell.

I couldn't face it. The packaging and mug alone were worth more than the cost of the chocolate; where did the chocolate come from? Examining the box, together with it's small package of 'Mini Creme Eggs' I couldn't find an origin of the cocoa. The thought of it was too much, trying to find the 40,000€ for the materials to build C.R.E.E.R in Cote d'Ivoire, even £3 seemed too much without a hint as to the origin of the chocolate!

That's it; 40,000€ - considering it will house 30 children for many years in a centre destined for trafficked children it's a ridiculously small sum. Our vision of creating a centre on 5ha of land, enough to farm & be semi-self-sufficient. Paltry in comparison to many centres I know of who have spent thousands on their buildings in rent.

My ex-student ended up with some magazines on aviation; he's thrilled. I'm happy too reflecting on what I'm trying to achieve & what I could have bought; the cost it would be for some child possibly working in the cocoa farms of Cote d'Ivoire somewhere ...

This doesn't even touch the reality ...

http://edition.cnn.com/CNNI/Programs/untoldstories/blog/archive/2008_04_20_index.html

A Kenyan pilot friend of mine sent me this, its so true & so sad! More needs to be done!!! It's not just women, many are girls as young as 10, boys too ... where & when will it end?

A very sad story ...

Then the story of M; I don't know where to start with her, she claims to be Beninoise/Togolaise, she doesnt speak French very well and then I started speaking in English to her, she understood me perfectly but replies in 'her' French.

She has been living on the beach for 3yrs she says, her parents died 3yrs ago and she has been alone ever since. She told me her father died in Cote d'Ivoire and her mother in Benin. However I don't think it's the whole truth I immediately felt she was Nigerian with her surname & the fact she knew Lagos well when we talked about it, her father worked there. I suspect she's been trafficked here ... I 'interviewed' her in English as Eric + Diouf dont speak a word, we went very slowly but after 4hrs I had the basics although there's a lot of missing information and we all felt that she was hiding something; the story doesn't quite add up. I have a good schoolfriend from Nigeria and called her to verify that the surname she'd given was in fact Nigerian as I suspected; my friend was great and came straight back to me to agree with me.

I was convinced she's not 13 but 11 or 12 - mentally we think she's ok but physically she wasn't good, been peeing blood for over a year she said and has been raped several times by the same two men when she slept in the market - she only went there when it rained on the beach. I was going to go with her and Eric to a school where we think she was enrolled, I find it strange that a '13' yr old cannot remember which school she went to 3yrs ago - hence our suspicions ... I was not happy I was leaving as there was a lot to be done with her .... we had hoped that that afternoon she would go to Abidjan to a laboratory to get a thorough health check. She was so sweet ... clung onto me and opened up more with me than the guys - why did I have to fly so soon???!!!