Last week, I convalesced with a giant tortoise named Togo before conversing with an enormous baboon named Benin (one of those is untrue). This week, I reached the easternmost point of my voyage, as I arrived in ‘Africa’s capital’ and largest metropolis: Lagos.
Last week, I spluttered and stuttered along the streets of Accra before hearing of the horrors of life inside the slave forts on Ghana’s Gold Coast. This week, I amble further along the shores of the Atlantic, catching crabs on some of West Africa’s finest beaches.
Last week, I completed the first leg of my trip around West Africa by arriving in Accra in some style - on a lime green double-decker with fully functioning fans and footrests (and with a distinct lack of raucous poultry on board). This week, my race was well and truly run…
Last week, I listened to harrowing tales of bygone diamond conflicts and civil wars as I resumed my muddy trudge along the Atlantic Coast. This week, I continue my education as I sit in despots’ cars and tyrants swimming pools before rounding the bulge of West Africa and venture eastwards.
Last week, I continued my journey south through three extraordinary West African nations until my beleaguered arrival in the Guinean conurbation of Conakry. This week, I follow the coast from capital to capital, visiting countries with recent histories they would rather forget.
Last week, I began my African adventure in earnest, as I went island and visa hopping around the Senegalese capital. This week, I attempt to intersect three extraordinary countries, as the road (and my T-shirt tan) worsens by the day.
Well, here we go. Welcome curious souls to my latest ridiculous escapade through foreign lands. Over the next three months (or eighty-two days to be exact), I plan on keeping you mildly amused with tales backpacking through Sub-Saharan Africa. From the emerging coastal capitals on the Atlantic to the vast deserted in-land nations of the Sahara, this trip will test my resolve (and patience) unlike any other!
Good day folks! If there's one thing travelling is good for it is to dispel (or confirm) the many lazy stereotypes we pick up about different places and people over the course of our lives. Having completed a three-month backpack through Central America and Mexico, without being sold into a drug cartel, I would like to take this opportunity to address some of the common misconceptions that people hold (mainly Americans) about the region.
Last week, I escaped the tourist throngs of Tulum by haggling for space cakes with a vagrant on a Mexican beach. This week would be my last, as I savoured the final few days of my voyage in the capital, before boarding a Boeing back to Britain.
Last week, I explored the enigmatic nation of Belize – surviving encounters with stingrays, sharks and, even more terrifyingly, Queen Elizabeth II. This week, I ate El Chapo's weight in tacos and tortillas as I went cenote-hopping and ruin-trekking along Mexico’s trendy tail.
