Headed back to the West
Well our love affair with the North is over. It’s now time for us to head back to the West province. I awoke about 4:30am and lounged in a hot shower for a while. After preparing my things to pack, I awoke Akilah so she could get ready; we needed to head next door to Touristique and submit our reservation slips.
We arrived there about 6:15am, and took all of two minutes to do what we needed. After packing and checking out of La Sahel, we rushed back, as our bus was scheduled to leave at 7:30. It’s good we had that foresight, because we actually pulled out at 7:05am. Need I say we were astonished? What’s more, we had the same driver as when first traveling to the North.
Wow, that meant he would make every effort to arrive in Ngaoundere before his designated prayer time. That’s good for us; we needed to pay for our two-person cabin on the train. The trip down was long, of course, but we were on a good pace. Our driver rarely slowed or stopped. Well except if you count the time he slowed to two miles an hour to avoid hitting the mule that didn’t want to move off the road.
Of course the scenery was beautiful, and I took my last few glimpses of traditional African housing compounds. Too bad we couldn’t stop so I could take photos the scenes were really beautiful. It’s amazing that in the midst of the little development that does exist in this country, there are still those who wish to hold onto their traditional life-styles. Of all the talk I’ve heard about the North not being as advanced as the rest of the country, I have to beg to differ. The people in the North and Extreme North provinces have been the kindest, most considerate, and (from my view) most advanced in this country.
It’s amazing that as clean as they claim the water is in the West province, it’s only the northern part of the country that chlorinates their water. We found that bit out from Stacy, we’ll have to research to be sure, but it appears as though it’s true. I gauged this by the fact that you could hardly find anyone selling water; and this is one thing that you can find plentiful in the other provinces. Akilah has even mentioned that she knows of people in Douala who boil their water; Cameroonians.
As soon as we arrived at the Touristique office, we headed as quickly as possible to Camrail; which was directly down the street. But all of our rushing, and the driver’s swift driving made no difference, there were no more two person cabins.
Would someone please explain why a company would have a reservation system if it’s not honored? That gives a false since of security. We’re learning that nothing in this country is final. Maybe that’s why you can’t get a quantitative answer from anyone.
We reluctantly succumbed to the nasty attitude of the guy working the window, and accepted tickets for a four-person cabin, yuck. Every attempt to just have some privacy was being averted by someone who wanted something. We would later find out that he wasn’t as considerate as the woman in Yaoundé with assigning folks to beds.
The guy placed us in the room with two “belly men,” that was not my idea of a comfortable trip. Dreading the upcoming ride, we did all we could to remain outside until just before the train’s scheduled departure. The ride was actually not that bad as our mates went to sleep almost as soon as they entered.
The one thing that reminded us we were headed below the Adamoua’s was the aggression people began showing again. While in the Extreme North, folks were calm, sort of laid back and genuinely kind; not here though. It’s back to attitudes.
I told Akilah that if anyone asks what I think of this country, I’ll applaud the beautiful landscape and scenery, but a majority of the folks need a personality overhaul. That’s probably really harsh, but true. We passed away three or so hours in the station by returning stares, talking and walking around outside. This station doesn’t have the same appeal as Yaoundé, and there’s no first class section!