Bartoua, Cameroon

Sitting beneath a mosquito net in a hotel in Bartoua, straight out of a Robert Bowle's novel. Listening to a torrential equatorial downpour and hurricane force winds. I didn't expect that in the forest. The power went out. We are only half way to our camp near the congo border. We are running out of Francs. The vehicle has broken down. We have no food, no water. The military checkpoints are becoming an issue. My visa was marked incorrectly from the embassy and instead of marking the date as the date the visa was issued, they marked it as the date that it expires so technically I am illegally in country. dirt track is dangerous and the trucks carrying felled logs from the forest are a death trap and if we make it out unhurt, it'll be luck and nothing more. 


Talk about the arrest..."Don't just tell me what happened on the streets of chad. Tell me what the streets looked like." - Little Bunch of Madmen

  • the compound
  • the arrest at the gate
  • customs and security
  • beer and pizza before the airport with mike
  • the mint blue walls of the jail
  • the bars on the windows
  • the commandant, down to the last detail...with the photos on the walls and the naval academy decor
  • the disgusting abthroom
  • the spent ammo cartridges
  • his men, plain clothes and sidebarms
  • the hills and speeding away from the airport
  • the man at the airport who was nice but not helpful
  • the interrogators
  • baggage claim
  • bribery of security to get the bags aboard
  • start with trying to sleep? the sounds outside. the street beyond the gate of the compund

reach chapter 2, little bunch of madmen