Sunday, 20 April 2014


My two friends, Stergio and Steven who I met on the road, made it through Nigeria and into Cameroon last week. I should have been with them but the delay of getting a replacement passport and their visas meant they had to go ahead. They went through a total of 53 police and military checkpoints... had attempted bribes at each one and even had a gun pointed at their faces by a drunken official. They had to be evacuated out of a hotel (I'm not sure on the details) and the best bit, got attacked by the moped stick men... These guys are quite infamous. They usually hang around the East of Nigeria, past the capital, Abuja. They roam around on mopeds carrying sticks with the hope of robbing people. My friends got away but they warned me that they can be very aggressive. I might have to carry around a stick in my front shopping basket just in case. I don't think I could out run them with my engine.

It's something to look forward to!

Tuesday, 15 April 2014


A weekend away from the urban chaos of Accra spent in a little village on the far West coast of Ghana, next to the Ivory Coast.

We took a 4x4 which was owned by the American embassy (going straight through all the police checkpoints makes a change!) to a remote part of the country in the jungle.

We were aiming to get to a village which is built on stilts in a lake somewhere in the jungle. We found a guy who would row us there in a pirogue. We paid him with Jack Daniels. 

Wednesday, 9 April 2014


I've just stumbled across an old blog that my house mate made about me from the old Manchester days, nearly four years ago now. Life without my passport is pretty much a reflection of this old blog really;

Saturday, 5 April 2014


Since its taking a exceedingly long time to get my replacement passport sorted out there's really not much to report on since I'm stationary. I'm trying to make the most of having access to an oven though! I'm generally quite a lean person naturally, but when your on the road weight just seems to fall off you. I've acquired some pretty serious ribs on route. Hopefully if I carry on eating like this I can put on some reserves for the jungles ahead.

Thursday, 27 March 2014


Laying face up in the pool as the sky descends into the evening, I could hear nothing but the sound of my breathing and limbs keeping me afloat. On my left is the last light of the day, piercing through the blue, and on my right behind the row of houses is an ominous black cloud engulfing everything, enveloping all the light, though the denseness of the cloud was so great it reflected the red's and orange's from Acrra's streets. Whilst up above me is a migration of thousands of bats; either being silhouetted by the blue or brought out by the cloud. The cloud won in the end, and all the while, thousands and thousands of bats beneath the red. Beautiful.

Monday, 24 March 2014

Journal 5: From Bamako, Mali, through Burkina Faso and to Kumasi, Ghana

It took three days to reach the Burkina Faso border from Bamako. I really enjoyed Mali. The country was a huge surprise; the people were wonderful, the landscapes beautiful and I felt incredibly safe and relaxed. Mali had been one of my favourite countries from the journey so far and I wondered how Burkina Faso would fare. A year previous I had been unable to pin point where Burkina Faso was on a map. Now I could see it on the road coming towards me.

Burkina Faso is the World’s third poorest country; a landlocked state with poor soil, lacking infrastructure and a massively corrupt government. It was evident straight away from being on Burkinabe soil that poverty was an issue. I’d seen a few children on my ride through West Africa with swollen stomachs from lack of food, but sadly it was a common sight from the beginning in Burkina. It was the second most corrupt border in Africa also, after Senegal. The police demanded money to stamp our passports. When they saw that we weren’t going to pay, they then asked for a present, in this case, Stergios helmet. I mean, a tourist turns up to your country on a motorcycle with the intention of riding the motorcycle through the country and the police want you to give your helmet to them… 

We rode into Burkina, two helmet donned foreigners on tiny motorcycles. We camped about 20 km away from the border that night and then ventured out into Burkina for the first full day that morning. I think I had my cheapest ever meal that day; a huge bowls of rice, vegetables and fish for around 12p. Whilst I was eating, sat on the wall of the open sewer (a very common feature around Africa) a baby being carried over

Thursday, 20 March 2014


I've manage to make my bike legal in the country for another 30 days. I started the process yesterday and finished late this afternoon. The process consisted of; go to the main customs office in Accra with all my papers, getting batted from room to room (in each room most people were asleep at there desks) before I found someone who could do it. They then said 'yes you've come to the right place, but you need to go to the place under that tree so they can fill out a form that means I can process yours...' I get batted around the many trees before I found the person who could right 'this letter'. I return to the main office with said piece of paper. 'Now Mr Parkin you need to go to the customs office on the other side of town to pay and bring back a receipt before I can stamp this paper'. I ride 15 miles to the other customs office where they then tell me that the main customs office made a mistake on the issue number. I ride back to the main office and explain. No apology but they assure the problem is fixed. I then ride back to the other side of town and the same problem was there. I ride back to the main customs office (quite angry) and they give in and just stamp the paper...

Now coming from an organised culture wouldn't it make sense to just have everything centralised?? All this for the equivalent of £3... which I didn't pay anyway. Africa.