Stilted village

Day 4

A very civilised start to the day- a buffet breakfast and onto the bus by 8am. We drove along the coast eastwards towards Nigeria on a sand track then got to a metalled road, very busy with motorbike taxis. This venture is mainly owned by the Chinese who provide the bikes and the driver pays a $3 fee daily, payable whether or not he earns that from
fares. For a 2km ride he’d get 30c.

We got a small boat at the lake to meander about looking at the women and children fishing from their pirogues. I’m not sure what the men’s role was - the guide thought they might be more skilful at selling the fish. The women also went to market to load up with tomatoes, pineapples etc to sell to the people of Ganvie - 30,000 live on stilt houses on the lake. Women’s role also is to queue up for water which came via a stilted building which got it from a water tower. They had their boats full of large plastic containers and they moored up under a spout where the water poured. There were about 8 in a line. Children also fished. Around the lake were structures made from dried palm fronds and bamboo stuck into the water. These were the fish farms. We were out on the lake about an hour, with a stop where
we tied up at a cafe for a loo break. I went upstairs from where I got a great view of the town on stilts and the connecting waterways.

Back in the bus we headed for Abomey where the ancient kings became rich from the slave trade. En route we stopped for
lunch at Bohocon after parking illegally and being questioned by a policeman with a AK47 slung casually over his shoulder. Lunch took 1.5 hours as the dishes came out one by one. The other vegetarian Diane and I had our third lunch of omelette, stir fried veg and pomme frites. Then the old couple Claire and Adrian decided to have ice cream which the restaurant sent out for. Some people are not team players.

Then the clutch went on our substandard bus so we limped to Abombey to see the palace. The king was at home. We were asked to bow to him as he lounged on his porch. I said I had developed bad knees and back so was excused. The history of the old kingdom, including the Amazon warriors, was explained and we toured various burial sites of previous kings within the complex. One who had 200 wives eventually died and 41 had to sacrifice themselves so that they could continue to fulfil his needs in the underworld. The palace, made from mud in the early 29th century, is a UNESCO world heritage site. There’s a lot of rooms with various artefacts and others with bits of concrete, metal and assorted junk.

Returning to the bus at 5.30pm nothing had been done about finding a replacement. Apparently a mechanic had come and now he and the driver were accusing each other of losing a crucial part. We have told the guide we want a new bus but he doesn’t think that’s necessary. He’s in headless chicken mode. We were parked up outside the Palace but we were not been asked in for tea never mind being offered a bed for the night.

Needless to say the guide didn’t know what to do about paying the mechanic who enlisted a few “helpers”. I think
some of the group chipped in. 10 minutes down the road the engine started misfiring and we drifted to a halt while overtaking something. Some of the chaps leapt out into the melee of motorbikes and other traffic to push us to the side. They had got their petrol not from a petrol station but from plastic containers sold on the roadside. However the driver started bashing the battery with a spanner and we set off again.

Neither the driver nor the guide knows how to get through towns to the right road. (There are no road signs). Aggie from Malaysia has google but in typical google fashion it wanted to send us down one way streets or dirt cul de sacs. The guide, sitting behind the driver, tells him to go right and points. The driver doesn’t understand his directions and can’t see behind him for the hand signal. We still have 140km to our hotel and it is getting dark so how we’ll manage then will be interesting. It’s West Africa. I’ll keep you posted.

Then the guide needed to stop to buy credit for his phone. Why doesn’t the company provide enough I wonder. The driver is from Nigeria where they drive on the left but here in Benin it is on the right. Consequently we’ve had a few narrow escapes when he wanders across the road.

We reached our hotel at 9pm. An altar cation ensued between the 2 wannabe alpha
males. We couldn’t get dinner as the Russians had all the tables. Mr C was coming up on the lift and it got stuck. I was trying to to go down to organise sheets for the bed. The technician let him out and accompanied us to our room to try to get the aircon working. We all got stuck in the lift. What a day of adventure.