Côte d'Ivoire in a Second-hand Car*
About this blog
(It may not end up being a car. But it rhymes better that way, alright?)
This story begins not in West Africa, but Peru. In the town of Lambayaque to be exact, outside The Lord of Sipán Museum, where in 2011 I was avoiding a forced-viewing of the moving diorama that lies within (seriously, security will not unlock the exit until you've watched it).
Also outside in the car park was a private overland truck, owned by an oldish Dutch couple. I don't remember their names, but in amongst interesting anecdotes, they told me about how they once bought an old car in Europe, filled it with spare parts, and drove it across the Sahara to sell in W.Africa. And I thought, "Self, that sounds like a fine adventure!"
So, it became a Thing, much the same way as the time my chance encounter with a picture of the sun setting on a random Indian mountain prompted me to travel to the village of Kalpa less than 2 weeks later, just so I could watch the peak turn that same brilliant shade of pink. That kind of Thing; insidious and thrilling.
(There is a second chapter to this story; one that begins in Colombia. One that begins with me asking a friend to join me on my jaunt through Francophone Africa, not really expecting them to agree. Somehow that became a Thing, too, in the best possible way, even though it means getting to Ivory Coast is now considerably harder. Thank goodness for disturbing dioramas, I guess...)