Well it had to happen. If you travel through Africa long enough, you’re more than likely to contract malaria. And we both picked it up… at the same time! Maybe it was the same mozzie that got us? Luckily we were still in Ghana and close to good medical help, though the half day spent at a local public hospital was not a fun experience. Armed with a plastic bag full of medication we found a comfortable hotel and hit the sack to wait out the sickness.

First came the fever, followed by cold sweats and shivering. This continued for three days. In addition Kamil picked up a bad cough while Iza couldn’t stop vomiting. Another visit to the doctor confirmed the malaria had gone, but Iza was put on a drip due to sever dehydration. On a positive, we can now say we’ve had malaria and survived. But we wouldn’t want to repeat the ordeal.

Back on our feet we continued along the Ghana coast, checking out old colonial forts along the way. This is where the majority of African’s were shipped out as slaves and it’s a weird feeling to see the conditions they were kept in before their trip across the Atlantic.

The Ivory Coast was next on the agenda and apart from a few scamming customs officials on the border, we were really taken back by the politeness of the Ivorians. Again more evidence that development and progress don’t necessarily make for a ‘civilised’ nation. In Ivory Coast’s capital - Abidjan, we got a further two visas (Guinea and Mauritania) and pushed on along the coast towards the border with Liberia. This is where the asphalt finished and the infamous west African ‘roads’ began. The Access would be put to the test! So far it had performed really well, not counting the time when the engine almost shook itself off the frame.

Liberia is another example of an African country trying to find it’s feet. After more than a decade of political turmoil and a devastating civil war, it’s people are looking for stability and peace. Apart from numerous police check points and a large UN presence, we did not see any signs of former hostilities. In fact, the people are by far the most open and friendly West African’s we’ve met so far.

One thing that is evident as a consequence of the war, is the lack of infrastructure and development. The 700km’s of road that we covered on the way to the capital - Monrovia - can only be described as atrocious. A heaven on earth for pigs!! The never ending mud was deep and the potholes could swallow cars…

Yet, whatever we paid in sweat and tears, we were repaid double with the scenery and atmosphere of the place (not to mention the people). An experience of a life time! The remoteness of the place is overwhelming. There is nothing around you but impenetrable jungle. Time takes on another dimension, it becomes meaningless. We met truckers that had been stuck in mud holes for up to 14 days! None complained though. They just shook their shoulders, put on a big smile and open heartedly welcomed you to their country.

One night we stayed at a small village. To say we were treated like celebrities ould be an understatement! The chief welcomed us with an ‘official’ kola nut eating ceremony, before personally sweeping the ground where our tent was to stand. His wife then handed us a bucket of water and told us to bath behind a bamboo fence because we must be very tired. It must have been her way of telling us we stink

With formalities over, stories traded and everyone getting a good look at us, we went to sleep. Not for long however, as we were woken by a sound of an engine starting. It was the Access! ‘Shit’ we thought, someone is trying to steal Iza’s bike! We rushed outside only to find the access sitting there alone with it’s engine running. Huh?! Some investigative work revealed that the remote control had short-circuited due to the rain and started the engine by itself! Maybe this function isn’t such a good idea after all…

Liberia was founded by freed slaves returning from America. Similarities can be seen everywhere. The flag is almost identical (as is the constitution), fuel is sold in gallons, speed signs are in mph, cops wear New York style uniforms and everybody speaks with an imitated American accent. A welcome of “Yo homie!” or “Wat up my brother” is not uncommon. Quite a difference from being called “Mr. White” in Ivory Coast.

We have now reached and past the lowest point in the western part of Africa. From here the only way is up. Through Siera Leone, Guinea, Senegal, Mauritania and Morocco. Our African adventure is slowly coming to an end…