The day started early for us. The breakfast was unspectacular, especially if you consider the price we paid for this nice hotel. The pain de chocolate were hard as rock and the coffee cold. The hotel only offered some dodgy milk powder. It was a fresh morning but the sun was already awake and warming up the city of Tambacounda.
We had a long day ahead of us, including a border crossing that could take some time. Eeyore had gotten fresh juice the night before and, therefore, we were good to go at 8 a.m..
The drive to the border was only about 150km and took some two and a half hours. It was Saturday and the roads were quiet. The drive reminded us very much of the Caprivi Strip in Namibia or just across the border in Botswana, similar vegetation and feel. There were still or already new bush fires burning the old grass off. The smoke filled the horizon. We passed one of such fires again, but this time much small ones than yesterday.
Because it was Saturday, the border station was sleepy. Only a few fixers around, who immediately targeted us, as there were no other customers around. While driving in, we passed the Senegalese Water and Forest Department inspection, who just waived us through. Secondly, we went in to the Senegalese customs to declare Eeyore. When we came outside we wanted to exchange some money. We had Euro and wanted Guinean Francs. As usual the first exchange rate was terrible, the next one better and after more haggling, the exchange rate met our expectations and money changed hands. With a massive bundle of Guinean Franc notes, the largest note is 20,000, that is the equivalent of about 2.10€ (ZAR44 or 1,400 cfa), you can image, that we all of a sudden felt very rich with a massive bundle of notes that represented three Euro notes a couple of minutes ago.
We moved on to the next station, the emigration police. Easy again. A bit of chit chat about Alex’ Botswanan passport and we had officially left Senegal. Because the Senegalese border station is not exactly at the border, but at the nearest village, you have a sort of no-man’s-land, with a National Forest on your left hand side, of about 35km before you cross the border and meet the Guinean counterparts. The first Guinean custom checkpoint just waived us through. It all started at the border post. First you needed to register yourself and the vehicle with the gendarmerie for crossing the border. Then, customs wanted to see you and process your details. Next station was the immigration police that registered you and stamped your passport and entry visa pages, the ones you need to hand in at Conakry airport in exchange for a tourist visa. Once you were done there, the anti-drugs police had an eye on you and wanted to search you car and your belongings. While nosing around in my car, I told the guy, that I had already met him a few weeks ago on my way up. He was the chap who ‘confiscated’ a handful of my Q-Tipps as a souvenir/bribe (read here). I did not mention the Q-Tipps though. He quickly changed his tactics and wanted to know which luggage was mine and which was of Alex. We pointed at them and he ordered only to have Alex’ rucksack and suitcase taken out. For the rest, he nosed around the car and wanted to have certain things opened and explained.
Alex got lucky and had a similar full treatment similar to what Christoph and I enjoyed in October.
Alex wrote, “Ulrich was clever enough to politely remind the man (who now has a reputation on Facebook amongst overlanders) that they had met on his was North. So, after a 5min check of the car, he turned his attention to me. I was invited to pull out my bright pink suitcase (thanks Lele) and my back pack and take them under his stand away from the sun. The stand must have stood at around 1.7meter high, a short order at my 1.96meter. After the first head bump they seemed pleased I’d received my initiation and I was invited to stand further in where the hight increased. Then began the unpacking of both my cases. Every item was checked thoroughly, including dirty underwear. The absolute highlight was them finding an old Ferrero rocher wrapper that had been crunched up. Because it had a foil like wrapper, the infamous drug man called over his rather large assistant (with an excited anticipation) who had a good smell, and slowly but surely unwrapped it. One he’d fully unwrapped it he looked me dead in the eyes, took one last good sniff and proudly declared “it’s a chocolate wrapper” in french. This seemed to break the ice. I was then invited to repack my bags, and a discussion ensued. The main drug man was convinced I had some military training. Ulrich reassured him I had only been to boarding school. We later discussed why, I thought it was because I had packed my bags so well, but Ulrich surmised that it was my stature, tattoos and size. I was then asked (for at least the 4th time) “Botswana, white?” This too resulted in a good laugh. The conversation landed at our wives. I was asked whether my wife was from Botswana and white. On informing them that she was infact from Mozambique and not white, I was immediately leveled societal hierarchy.“
Alex was gracefully permitted to pack everything again into his suitcase what he only managed after a few tries.

We packed the items into the car again. While driving off, we chuckled and I congratulated Alex for his passed anti-drugs search test and he was welcomed in our club of survivors!
If you think that was it, wrong. You drive a few kilometres to the border village Sambailo and meet the next Guinean border station. You get waved into the scanning station. The identical scanner I had already seen in action at the Moroccan border. Eeyore was placed next to the scanning truck and with a lot of beeping and alerts, it starts moving and x-rayed your vehicle. Apparently all vehicles, cars, taxis, busses and trucks coming into the country get scanned this way. After a few minutes of waiting and being asked if we had anything for their coffee, that I denied, we were good to move on.
Then came basically a duplication of the previous spectacle. Customs, Gendarmerie, Anti Drugs Police and Immigration police. We were ushered into the office of the chef de poste of the Customs border post for a chat and he requested our details such e-mail addresses and phone numbers for his stack of tourists, he showed us. From him we received his details. Who knows if they might come in handy at some point.
It felt like a total waste of time to have to do everything over and seems to be a creation of employment for the region. After two hours sitting in various offices small talking to the officer there while he is writing some of your details into a big book where you wonder why and what will ever be done with it.
Finally we were done and welcome to Guinea!
Shortly after the border, we saw ant hills by the hundreds with very peculiar hats on them. Then the hills started and not much later after the mountains.

At Lélouma, we crossed the bridge across the Koumba River and suddenly we found a group of three motorcycles and their riders standing next to the road with around twenty onlookers of all ages. It was Patrick, a friend of mine and my mechanic for all difficult stuff, and two of his mates, Eric and Khondor. They had all treated themselves to a brand new KTM 890 in France and were now transferring them to Abidjan overland. I knew roughly where they were, but not exactly and believed them to be far ahead of us, therefore already given up hope to meet them en route. Here they were, re-arranging their luggage on the back of their motorcycles for the very difficult passage ahead. The N5 was being rebuilt the African way. You drove over the unhardened and unflattened ground with deep ruts and lots of sand and even more dust. It is a real challenge mastering a motorbike of that size and weight over such terrain with so much luggage on the back.

After we had greeted and introduced each other, we heard of their challenge and came up with a plan. Eeyore would play their support vehicle and transport all their luggage to Labé, our joint destination. As they hadn’t made up their minds yet about their accommodation for the night, I suggested the hotel I had in mind for Alex and me. Sorted. Six bags transferred into Eeyore, they were now much lighter and off we went. The dust was enormous! Quickly the first two overtook us and disappeared in the distance. The third rider, Eric, was not seen for a long time, as he took it easy at his age. Then he appeared and we let him pass, so he did not have to breathe in all of our dust. Unfortunately, that scenario only lasted a few hundred meters, because we run into a truck that produced even more dust clouds and there, at the slope of the hill, with one side mountain and the others side dropping into a green abyss, it was sheer impossible to overtake. We waited for our chance patiently going slowly behind the truck and Eric dropped behind us again to get out of the dust and be able to breathe and see again. Finally, the trick driver had noticed us and slowed down to let us overtake. Sadly, Eric didn’t make it and had to stay behind until another point. We made our way over the winding rough and dusty track with a spectacular view to the left side into the valley and to the mountains in the distance.

At the end of the construction section, a good 40km, we met the first two bikers again, awaiting their friend at a gendarmerie checkpoint with ten or more young women around them, all offering the same, mandarines. They had a fruity snack to gain strength, before continuing again and we told them we would already order the cold beers at the hotel in Labé for all of us. That it was the other way around in the end, is of non importance. After a comfy cruise of about an hour we arrived in Labé at sunset and drove into the hotel to find them just receiving their first beers, still being completely filthy and dusty!

With us at the hotel was the West Africa Overlander tour bus with crew and passengers. Some passengers had opted to sleep in a chalet and some camped.
We began sharing stories of our trip so far and Patrick was telling all the difficulties he had getting into the country. Before we ordered a fabulous Pizza, we rapidly freshened up. With more beer and wine, we shared stories and exchanged pictures. Happy days!