Limbe to Bamenda

Limbe to Bamenda to Wum (The Long Haul)

Driving on two lane roads at 60-70 mph in Cameroon is like driving in the Indianapolis 500, only cars are coming at you full speed while you are passing and cars seem to be trying to push you off the road while they pass you.  At least that is what it felt like to me. It is enough to make your heart stop and now you know why I am a strong advocate of hiring an experienced driver when in a third world country.  Even with that, it takes awhile to have confidence in the drivers’ skills and of course there is the occasional incident when you find yourself pressing your foot to the floor as if you were able to slam on the break.  Our ten and a half hour journey to Bamenda and Wum had only one mishap, a flat tire.  Not a big deal, except we didn’t have a spare, and we were in a remote village with only five homes.  Obviously there was no service station in sight.  As I was helping the driver take the tire off I had a chance to examine its condition and could not believe what I saw -- cords of the inner lining showing on the surface of the tire as well as having cut through the tire about an inch.  No chance for a plug that was for sure. At this point I thought we were sunk -- however, Cameroonian ingenuity came into play. The driver just walked down the road and found a homeowner working on his car. You guessed it; he had all the tools to take the tire off the rim, and a somewhat oversized inner tube to replace the flat.  We had only one other problem -- how to fix the slash in the tire.    Once again Cameroonian ingenuity came into play. The driver took an older inner tube, cut large pieces and stuffed it inside to cover the tire. After re-inflating the tire we were off again.  As we drove off, I was convinced the tire would not last -- we made it to Bamenda with a clunk clunk, clunk noise all the way.

 We stopped in Bamenda and got a real tire, took a break and pushed on so we would not have to drive at night. The trip from Bamenda to Wum is about two and a half hours and the hard part of the trip. It is a dangerous dirt road -- washed out, covered with potholes, and sometimes fraught with landslides. Bang bash, up and down we go -- swerve left swerve right plus honk, honk, honk, around all the hairpin turns. It was painful at this point.  As a confidence builder I could look down the cliffs to see an old vehicle below. No guardrails. Luckily there were no landslides, which I had experienced the last time I was here.

Finally -- exhausted, dehydrated, and covered with dirt and dust -- we arrived in Wum.  It was a welcome sight to say the least. To turn into Sammy Buo’s compound with lush gardens three structures and a home that looked as if it had been built in a developed country.  In America we would call it a large house but to me it was an oasis. I walked into the guesthouse and crashed. And do remember, the daily wage is $2.00 per day;the wall around the compound is high; there is no police department.