Welcome (back) to Douala

After three weeks in Spain we left Monte Pego and headed to Cameroon via Valencia and Paris.  When we touched down in Paris it was incredibly foggy and zero degrees – a far cry from what was to await us in Douala, Cameroon’s biggest city.  It is a long and tiring journey and slightly frustrating to be flying directly back over Valencia on the way from Paris to Douala some eight hours after we had left there painfully early that morning.  But by 8.30pm we were on the tarmac in Douala and the captain announced that it was still 32 degrees Celsius two hours after sunset.  It turned out he meant that it was 32 degrees in the city as opposed to the baggage hall in the airport where it felt nearer 50!

As a welcome to a country this one is way down there at the bottom of the list.  How it can take an hour and a half to get the one and only plane load of people through passport control and baggage reclaim is beyond belief.  I suspect it is all part of a cunning plan.  The reason why the bags take so long to come out is that by the time you have got your case you are so hot and bothered that you are easy pickings for the customs man who gleefully pounces on you as you try to leave.  By locking the “nothing to declare” exit the only way out is via the “something to declare” door.  He lifted my case and said “she’s a bit heavy sir – I bet you have something in there” before making clear that I could avoid having my case opened if I “had something for him”.  Much as I dislike corruption and the corrosive effect it has on Africa’s development, at that point handing over the equivalent of ₤2.50 is a small price to pay for getting out of the most unpleasant room either of us have had the misfortune to be in for a long time.  

At the flat with Bisi, Penda & cousin Lobe

That over we melted into the arms of Penda and Bisi my brother and sister who had come to collect us.  They spirited us away from the mob of taxi touts, porters and general chancers that inhabit the waiting area outside the terminal building, into Penda’s car and off to Bisi’s (air-conditioned) apartment for some very welcome local roast fish.