The title refers both to our
transport and my overdue posts – our holiday was in December
2016-January 2017.
Note the original departure time at right. Meanwhile, we boarded some three hours after we were to take off. |
Travel within central and west Africa
can be very expensive, so we were glad to find some pretty cheap
return tickets from Douala to Cotonou with Arik Air.
Shortly before travelling, though,
Blair broke her arm so we did inquire about cancellations. Since none
were possible, we decided to forge ahead with the trip and try to
minimize our use of zemidjans (motorbikes – the main form of public
transport).
Cathedral Notre Dame des Apotres in downtown Cotonou. |
The day of our flight I received a call
saying that our flight to Cotonou had been delayed by two days. She
asked if we wanted to keep our original return date or push it back
to maximize our time in Benin. We elected to adjust our stay, and the
Arik representative signed off with “Greetings to madame.”
Once at the Douala airport, I called the
Arik representative back to see about checking in for the 3:45 PM
flight. She said the ground crew was coming soon (it was 3 PM), so we
gave them a few minutes. After check-in we headed to the bar with two
fellow travelers - a PCV-Cameroon who had recently finished his
service, and a Cameroonian PE teacher.
La Beninoise: the national beer. |
We ended up having a couple of hours to
get to know our new friends. The PCV was based in Batibo, the palm
wine capital of Cameroon which, lamentably, we never got around to
seeing. The PE teacher was on his way to Mali to meet up with his
brother. So he was going to get a bus direct to Bamako (via Burkina
Faso) from Cotonou since the flight was so much cheaper than any to
Ouagadougou or Bamako. From there he and his brother were going to
travel to Guinea, where their grandfather used to run the National
Library after he had to leave Cameroon for being a Communist (and was
taken in by Sekou Toure).
Our flight eventually left around 6 PM,
and we proceeded to the rather laid-back Beninois immigration upon
landing. Blair was ahead of me and the immigration officer asked her
what happened to her arm. Her colleague in the next booth began
pointing/scolding and laughing, saying, “C'est ton papa!” (“It
was your dad! [i.e. husband]”) After concluding the round of joking denials and accusations, we got a taxi to
the rather nice Hotel du Lac on the lagoon leading out to sea.
[For the record, an unfortunate Holiday Show accident was to blame.]
No Littering sign on the beach in Cotonou. |
While we didn't stay very long in
Cotonou, a few things did stand out to us. First of all, the Beninois
are very well-dressed. While this is not out of the ordinary for the
region, what struck us was that most people used local fabric (well,
with locally inspired designs at least) for their clothing. There
were also a lot of men wearing complets – shirts and trousers in
the same fabric. Mono-chromatic Western-style clothing was much less
common than say in Douala.
Beach in Cotonou. |
A big difference with Douala was the
fact that almost every motorcyclist had a helmet. Apparently it's the
law in Benin, and to keep up appearances most people wear one
(although the strap is rarely buckled). Enforcement of this practice
was non-existent outside the capital so there were far fewer helmets
there. The near total reliance on zemidjans meant that we did have to
ride them more than expected, although there were a couple of taxis
based near our hotel and the excellent Benin: Other Places Travel Guide (written by PCVs) listed drivers that could be hired around town and for longer trips.
At an eponymous bar. |
There weren't a great many sights in
Cotonou, although we enjoyed some beers by the beach and also checked
out a Keith Haring exhibit at Fondation Zinsou's Cotonou branch at the end of our stay
and enjoyed walking around town. A craft center in town was somewhat
uninspiring, especially since I couldn't find a decent Benin national
team jersey (they are the Squirrels!).
Part of the Keith Haring exhibition. |
At the end of our trip it was time to
revisit Arik Air. We got to the airport an hour or so before takeoff
so we checked in and then I asked if we had time to go get lunch
(like Douala's, the Cotonou airport is quite close to a residential
area with restaurants around). We had time – the plane hadn't left
Lagos yet.
We returned a couple of hours later to
discover that most of the ground staff had disappeared. The flight
had not left, and we proceeded to the gate to find out more from the
other passengers. We were glad that we'd changed our flight from
December 31 to January 3, as the 12/31 flight was completely
canceled! One waiting passenger's visa had expired (she was scheduled
to leave on the 31st), while others shared their previous
challenging experiences with Arik Air. Once Arik's ground attendants
arrived, they were berated over the reason for the delay (it's
beggared belief that a Nigerian airplane could be grounded in Lagos
due to lack of fuel!).
More from the Keith Haring exhibition. |
We were eventually shunted to a defunct
duty free shop where we were given styrofoam containers of chicken
and rice, as well as a soft drink, for our troubles. We passed the
next few hours listening to our fellow passengers share war stories
about flying with Arik, as well as ASKY, which sometimes leaves early
before partner flights arrive.
The time in between flights was
wonderful, and I'll try to do justice to how great a destination
Benin is in subsequent posts.
At Fondation Zinsou, Cotonou. |