Cameroon(1)






	The Ekok-Mamfe road we took into Cameroon is notorious in overlanding circles and normally one to avoid during rains, but even though there had been some rain recently the surface had been graded and was in good condition.


					Our first overnight in Cameroon was at a nice lakeside (Lake Ejagham, N 05˚ 45.17’ E 008˚ 59.01’) with wild camping and less wild fishing opportunities. I managed to hook a tiddler that I planned to use as bait the next day and stored under the truck on hook and line, only to find the next morning that something had eaten it all down to the lips and hook.

	We parted ways with Campbell and Linnéa on the road to Bamenda, as we turned to Limbe along the worst road in Africa (Mamfe/Kumba). It started as moderate dirt track and had fantastic scenery but as soon as any tarmac was introduced into the mix it degenerated into a series of mini bomb holes.



	The most surreal section was travelling from jungle dirt road to perfect concrete flyover and back to dirt road. As it became evident that we would not reach Limbe in a day (due in part to the road condition and part to the gear stick breaking off), we found a second wild camp on a small hill with a view of Mount Cameroon. It wasn’t long before we were joined by the land-owner’s son Musa, who though pleased to meet us, wondered what we were doing there.


			We soon made good friends and were warmly welcomed, and so the next morning over coffee, shared some ideas about starting a little overlander stop off since it was such a nice place. In Limbe we called in at a sister project to the Pandrillus in Nigeria, The Limbe Wildlife Sanctuary. The project was being managed by Felix Lancaster, a UK vet who qualified two years before me from Liverpool. It was interesting to compare career paths and recount some University memories but more frightening to wonder where ten years had disappeared to. The sanctuary is home to 15 species of primates and other wild animals, most of them endangered and all threatened by the ongoing bush meat trade.

	We settled in to the Park Hotel Miramar in Limbe (N 04˚ 00.68’ E 009˚ 12.00’) with it’s sea view and murky pool and over the next few days were joined by most of the usual (overland)suspects, except Kevin Spacey who was busy at the time. A pleasant evening meal turned into a long nights discussion about Life, the Universe and Everything, but all questions were soon answered with a quick phone call to someone’s husband in NASA (It wasn’t a Nigerian rocket or satellite, but it was launched in Nigeria).

	After a brief visit to the base of Mount Cameroon we then took the Giardia I had collected from Limbe down the coast to Kribi, where I started to batter it with large doses of metronidazole.

	The route down to Kribi passes over the Sanaga River, which though not great in stature is of major importance in evolutionary history. The river seems to have been an ancient divide that produced many different species on both sides and even separates two different types of chimpanzee. I noticed myself some big differences in tool usage also as the northern chimps definitely favoured the Black & Decker over their Bosch-loving southern cousins.

	We stayed a few kilometers south of Kribi in a small Auberge on the beach called Tara Plage. We had some major storms during the next night and in the morning the small lagoon next to the camp was teeming with fish. This brought the most random spectacle of fishing from the locals I have ever witnessed. It started with three mad hysterical women with a net and a bucket. They jumped in the lagoon and stated to try and ‘scoop’ fish into the bucket with the net unsuccessfully. Several men with machetes who seemed to have invented a new blood sport called ‘fish hitting’ soon joined them. As it became clear that fish were escaping through the shallow run off from the lagoon it seemed more efficient to dive on the fish and try to grab them with hands and ‘feet’ than to just stretch a net across the mouth of the outlet and herd the fish toward it.

	It was just so apparent during the whole debacle that 90% of the fish evaded capture and that if any modicum of cooperation had arisen all would have left with full baskets. However the fishing prize definitely went to the 2-year-old boy who managed to launch a fish half his size on to the beach.