Yesterday at 6:15 am, we left my house in Yaoundé headed northwest. I had spent the whole night packing everything I would need and storing everything I want to keep…and was still awake at 6 when my new boss and his wife arrived. I ate a little breakfast, and 20 minutes into the trip, I was asleep. I woke every time we stopped for gas or food, including a wonderful egg/spaghetti sandwich in Makanene a and a potty-break in Bafia, but the first 6 hours of road flew by my window pretty much un-noticed. Bamenda arrived with little notice, and we got out to deliver the inter-office mail.
At 4pm I woke again at Banso Baptist hospital, touring the campus and having some supper. I took some photos of the pretty mountains, the pretty lake Oku, and watched villages, trees, and goats whiz past my window.
The worst part of the trip was that we saw a motorcyclist meet his death. He was well in the other lane and in front of us, and apparently didn’t notice the big white Toyota truck heading for him. The truck swerved at the last moment, and the motoman’s head went through the driver’s window. He was dead before he hit the pavement, as verified by the medic that jumped out of the wrecked white truck. Amazingly, his passenger on the bike was able to get up and walk off the road, obviously in pain, but gloriously alive. Medical attention was started within minutes of the crash…so we moved on. I verified from my window that yes, he was gone.
After arrival in Ndu, I settled in, got locked in my bathroom for a moment (good thing I had my multi-tool), went to a meeting and sang some praise songs…then off to bed under the blankets.