the Not Johnny Clegg Story of Travel In Africa
We climbed quickly into the air and escaped the clutches of Kinshasa below us, with Brazza rapidly fading behind us too as we headed towards Douala and sanity. It’s a relatively short flight, across Congo-Brazza, Gabon, and I would imagine Equatorial Guinea, before getting to Cameroon. There was the odd bit of turbulence as we flew into the darkness of a tropical night, the sun setting very quickly in Africa, no dilly-dallying like in Europe. We were to transfer from the international side to the domestic side and get a flight to Yaoundé from there, with our host Eric, who would provide our visas on arrival. Douala soon appeared on the horizon, lights flickering in the distance, a reassuring sign that we were on track. Then they disappeared. Just for a couple of minutes, then reappeared. If we’re being blocked by mountains, I thought, we’re pretty fucking low to the ground. But the lights were well below us – it was just a normal night of patchy electricity, with generators kicking in whenever the power failed. Which was often.
We landed without problems and soon made our way into the arrivals hall. Rob and his Gabonese business partner rounded us up, including a young woman from South Africa’s tourism board, who spoke fluent French, having grown up in exile in Paris and attended a swanky school there, she told me. Several times. Where was Eric? We needed our visas and clearance to get to the domestic flight. Turns out his flight from Yaoundé had been cancelled due to bad weather. No visas, no entry. No power, no lights. And every time the lights came back on, the South Africans were clear to everyone – diving on their luggage to make sure nobody stole it in the dark. For shame! After a couple of hours of hanging around the humid arrivals desk, our Gabonese colleague arguing with the officials in a combination of French and English, with a few choice Zulu and Afrikaans swearwords thrown in, had managed to get us out of the airport and off to a hotel for the night, our connecting flight having long since departed. Only problem, we had to leave our passports behind.
We headed to the Akwa Palace Hotel, not too far away and close to the Wouri River, where logs were floated down from the interior, destined mainly for China. It was late by now and everything was closed. Our host managed to get a chef and waitress to serve us dinner. “Just remember – everything makes you sick, so stick to overcooked chicken!” Rob hissed in my ear. I looked at the menu, and asked the waitress what she’d recommend. “The ndolé! It’s delicious!” was the immediate, infectious response. I was sold. It’s basically a wild spinach that is cooked in a variety of different ways depending on location and culture. Mine came with chillies, shrimp and peanuts. It was superb. I got lost in the tastes as Rob was demanding sauce to make his overcooked chicken palatable. He lathered it on the leathery fowl and launched into it, before lunging for a beer and gulping it down as the piri-piri sauce caught his throat. Once he’d stopped choking, he shut up for a bit. What a win!
Before dawn the next morning we got into our air-conditioned 4×4 and started the five hour, 230km trip to Yaoundé, Cameroon’s capital city. We’d arrived about two weeks before the elections, held faithfully every seven years by incumbent Paul Biya in the solid knowledge that they’re rigged in his favour and France prefers him in power to the unknown*. What it did mean, though, was that as we traversed the countryside, we hit army roadblocks every 20 or 30 kilometres. The process was simple: the driver drove as fast as he could through the winding roads of the forest and open grasslands, overtaking massive logging trucks and petrol hauliers without much thought for what may be coming the other way, at equally breakneck speed; hooting at everything in sight, through small villages with timber houses, some painted brightly, others not, scattering chickens, children and goats as he went. As the rudimentary roadblocks loomed – a plank with nine-inch nails facing upwards and soldiers with AK-47s manning them in case you decide to skip them – he would swear, screech to a halt and put his subservient smiley face on. Because we didn’t have our passports back yet. No sweat, he calmly gave his identity card and a wad of cash at each stop and we were on our way again. In retrospect, we were beyond lucky that we weren’t locked up for days or weeks on end while the issue was sorted out, but yours truly was filled with the bonhomie of a man released from the shame of apartheid, and faith in the humanity of all people. Basically, a naïve idiot. But it was this trip, careening through the rainforests, our driver and minder** regaling stories of Roger Milla and other football heroes, the forests flying by with stunning majesty, smells, sounds and lighting, with Manu Dibango, Salif Keita and Youssou N’Dour for company, that cemented my love for the continent, my people and its music. I can still smell those rainforests whenever I hear that music. I can still recall the arguments about which of the Biyiks was the better footballer. Magical.
We arrived in Yaoundé just before 9 am, so just in time for the start of the main conference to cement ties between South Africa and Cameroon. We sat at the podium, with yours truly to do the introductory speech, much to my horror. We waited patiently for the local dignitaries to arrive. Then took a coffee break at 10am. By 11am, when the local governor and minister of trade had decided which of them would enter last to the greater fanfare, we got underway. Sort of. We had to wait for the TV crews to get back from their own break and then repeat the sweeping entrances and ovations. That done, brief introductory speeches out of the way, it was time for lunch.***
Host Eric was in fine fettle by now, with coverage on national television assured, and took us to an ‘eco-lodge’ for lunch. It was a beautiful wooden house perched on top of a hill looking across tropical forests as far as the eye could see. It was built from the trees that once inhabited the hill and the now lack of vegetation was creating serious erosion, which the owner, who wanted to build another twenty of them on the hills around there, seemed oblivious to. Lunch was great though – donkey, pork and goat meat skewers presented on a grooved wooden platter with different spices in each groove. You rolled your skewer in whichever one you wanted, and they then grilled it for you. Served with deep-fried plantains, now a firm favourite of mine and washed down with a small 33 Export. Back to the hotel just in time for the coffee break.
By this stage, trouble was brewing in paradise, with Rob and his sidekick demanding our passports back and accusing Eric of effectively holding us hostage. Eric was incensed, accusing them of wanting a free trip that they were simply using for their own business. I stayed out of it, figuring that he who holds the passport is king. And he also had my plane ticket. The afternoon flew past, with recriminations replaced by reconciliations and renewed animosity by turn, but I was meeting with great people, many of whom were interested in sending their kids to South African universities. I was happy to oblige, having recently been at one and helped them with entrance requirements on return.
Eric then introduced me to a good friend of his – the CEO of the local branch of one of the world’s largest tobacco companies. We were soon off to his aunt’s fantastic restaurant* for dinner, with a bunch of South African Air Force pilots for company as well. They were training the Cameroon Air Force, but seldom got into the skies because of the weather, so spent most of their time drinking in the hotel. And then being grounded because they weren’t in any condition to fly. Dinner was sublime, again, with a variety of seafood, meats, vegetables and casava concoctions that I can’t remember the names of. The rest of the week followed a fairly similar pattern of torturous Cameroonian hierarchy politics, wasted time, great meetings, better food and excellent company. Time to head back to Douala and the final leg of our journey – still (worryingly) no passports in sight.
*Sorry Flair, that was the distinct impression given to us at the time, and it persists today!
**We imagined he was just there to keep us safe from harm, but was in fact Secret Service assigned to us to make sure we weren’t spying on the elections, we found out much later.
***I think you’re getting to understand that I’m a victim of largesse in all of this and lunches were thrust one me at an early age.
As digested by Deebee7
Onna telly this week
Friday 30th April
| Leicester v Ulster | 20:00 | BT Sport 2 |
| France v England (women) | 20:00 | BBC iPlayer/Red Button |
Saturday 1st May
| Stormers v Sharks | 13:00 | Premier Sports 2 |
| Toulouse v Bordeaux | 15:00 | Channel 4 / BT Sport 3 |
| Bulls v Lions | 18:00 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Bath v Montpellier | 20:00 | BT Sport 2 |
Sunday 2nd May
| La Rochelle v Leinster | 15:00 | BT Sport 2 |
Ovally Balls 
Highlanders get a 5m scrum, go wide and Tompkinson goes over in the right corner. Hunt nails the extras and it’s 21-7 with 5 to go in the 1st half. Different standard comp for the Reds.
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Reds milk a ‘tip tackle’ where the bloke was about 3cm off the ground to start with. Clear to halfway. May as well have chucked it direct to the 9 from the linout it was so skew. Landers get the penalty from deliberate obstruction. Lineout on the Reds 22 after the hooter. They’re close – and over! No! Dropped over the line! That’s all folks! For now.
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Strictly, that’s Medb – or even more strictly Meḋḃ – the seimhui (little dot) over the ‘D’ softens it to a ‘y’ sound and the one over the ‘b’ modifies that to ‘v’
In modern ( or as so many here like to say “modren”) Irish orthography that’s rendered as Medhbh (‘h’ replaces the seimhui) – transliterated as Maeve (pron. “Meyv”)
I personally think the seimhui should come back and free us of all those ‘aitches’ (or ‘haitches’…. and that”s another story…..)
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@Trisk – Difficult stuff for some of us to talk about.
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More seriously how do you pronounce seimhui? Always nice to know what these sorts of things are called.
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Prague quarter finals day has fallen victim to the weather and UCC are eliminated without a ball being bowled. They can leave with their heads held high and their faces stuffed with Punjabi Food. Well Joshi’s anyway, but he deserves it as he didn’t half give the ground one hell of a beating.
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Reds pile on the pressure early in the 2nd half, but concede a turnover penalty under the Highlanders posts. Smith takes it quickly, meaning the Reds feed the lineout. They get a penalty from there and opt for touch, just inside the Highlanders 22.
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Another breakdown penalty although Pari Pari Parkinson looked to have stolen the lineout before landing heavily with no support. He’s ok though. Reds go for the corner and another lineout. Go to the back, Highlanders sack, ref says advantage,crossfield kick is taken by Sunivalu who gets it on the line! Great jump and piece of skill! 21-10 as Hegarty can’t convert.
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*Vunivalu
* 21-12 you moron. BB – music maestro!
I digress. Highlanders with a penalty shortly after the restart for hands in the ruck. 5m lineout. Driving maul is irresistible and they go over! 28-12 with the conversion. Which hits the upright from almost in front!
26-12 it is then!
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In trying to correct someone, I added my own typos…. eheu! (as I got on the bottom of my ancient Greek homework)
séimhiú ….. shay-vu or shay-view (or near enough)
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Highlanders spill the pill from the restart but get it back anyway and clear downfield. Reds run it back but they’re not making much headway either direct or wide. Eventually they lose possession and the Highlanders attack with speed. Until the 8 passes to the touch judge. Lovely floating pass too!
Reds botch the scrum and are scrambling to try and get out of their 22 now. Penalty on halfway as they make some ground. But too many passes out wide have been speculative, looping and behind the receiver, putting him under pressure. Mauling from the lineout and inside the Otago 22. Offside penalty against the Highlanders. To touch it goes.
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They concede the penalty whilst I try to make sense of Trisk’s post. Smith hoists it from the resulting lineout but it goes straight up and his pack is offside. Reds back on attack. More dreadful passing but they somehow get to the 22 before spilling it. Back to their own 10m. And concede the breakdown penalty. FB Sam Gilbert the poacher there. Missed touch from the Highlanders and they’re forced back to just outside their own 22.
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Reds lose it on halfway again and the Highlanders bust upheld. Eventually they concede the penalty and the Reds win the lineout on their 10m line. A delightful delayed pop pass carves the Highlanders open and they’re away! Then the passing is shit again and they’re checking it. We’ll, the pop pass was forward so it doesn’t matter.
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Scrum back inside the Reds half. Wide pass intercepted by the Reds this time but they chuck it into touch. Smith overcooks the roost and a bit of ping pong later sees the Reds with the lineout on halfway. Another spilled pop pass and they have a lineout inside their own 22. They give up possession too easily and the Highlanders have a penalty which they kick to touch this time.
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They getcthe drive on and appear to have scored but we’ll wait for the TMO, shall we? Highlanders run back to halfway to assist his decision-making. Got it down on the line, but looking for potential obstruction, knock on or anything else. Nope! Coltman gets his try! 33-12 as Hunt adds the extras.
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And another! Punivai the recipient of the final pass and he scores in the corner after the Reds lose the kicking battle, the aerial contest and the handling contest. Hunt sends it over for 2 more and it’s 40-12!
Lots of tactical kicking from the restart and the Highlanders spill it thus time, giving the Reds a final shot at a less embarrassing scoreline. They’ve been stuffed in almost every facet tonight. Into the 22 and an offside penalty will allow them to set the lineout 5m out. They get another penalty from the lineout and go again. Time is gone. This game is over. Thought I’d something more to say.
Actually I do. Vunivula collects another crossfield kick and scores his second. Hegarty adds the extras, but at 40-19 that was a klap in Saffer parlance.
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CMW, The forecast is miserable for tomorrow as well so it might be no matches and no overall winner.
Barbarians out as well so the semis are PCC Kings v one of the Spartans teams and Vinohrady v Brno.
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However, direct from the CEO of Czech cricket’s mouth – the weather forecast is ok-ish, no rain until 4 pm, which is when the final is scheduled.
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Tahs holding the Canes very well here. Oh, hang on, it’s a break in play. Not sure what for.
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Looks like it was the Canes number 10, Love who has gone off on a stretcher. Play underway again, and the Canes score the first try from a simple passing move. 0-5 as the conversion is missed.
Tahs keep it through a few phases before Newsome bursts through the defence and scores! Conversion good and it’s 7-5 Tahs! About 7 minutes in. Very similar start to the last match.
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Some scrappy crap from both sides, missed passes, terrible tactical kicking and dodgy tackling, but then the Canes pick up a loose ball and three offload later they’re over! Barrett adds the extras and it’s 7-12.
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Tahs get the turnover penalty and go through the hands from the lineout. Super hands from 8 to 4 to 1 in midfield and they’re over! Big Bell bounces over! 14-12 Tahs after 17 minutes.
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Tahs getting a few more phases going now, in a more controlled manner and they’ve got the penalty for offside in kicking range. Donaldson makes no mistake. 17-12 after 21.
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@TomP – is the Vinohrady wicket keeper the groundsman or something? He seemed to think it would be OK looking at the comments.
I guess Kings must be favourites as they’ve managed to play a bit more in the last few days than the others and probably have most batting depth. Their better players have been giving chances even against the weaker teams though so you never know. The Vanguards have got to be the underdogs so I’m with them for now (and if they lose then with the winners of the other semi).
The pitch may have quite a bearing as well as it hasn’t always played quite the same with the weather despite being an artificial. One thing that intrigues me is that it has seemed to be difficult to hit down the ground and Dany is understandably always putting this down to the ball not coming on, but a lot of the players seem to be able to time the ball off their pads which to my mind is a shot that you only really see when the ball is coming on OK. I wonder if it’s a mixture of the pitch and the prevalent style among the players, not sure really.
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Both sides playing with better ontrol now and the Canes take it through 14 phases before Jordie Barrett breaks the line and strolls under the posts. 17-19 as he converts his own.
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Crunching tackle from the Canes 2nd rowers drives the Yans back and they get the penalty. Jordie lines it up from halfway. Distance is easily good enough but dragged it left.
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Yans? Me neither. Tahs. Canes doing a All Blacks ’95 WC Final with “give it to Rayasi’ seemingly the plan. To be fair, he’s creating some Jonah-like havoc out there. Big unit. Canes with the 5m lineout from a penalty. Coles controls off the back and spins off for the try. 17-26 with the extras.
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Rayasi well sheparded into touch there. Maybe not quite as large as I thought? Canes come from midfield and Rayasi almost gets through tidying up loose ball. They take a quick tap from the resulting breakdown penalty and it’s Proctor’s turn to tidy up and stroll over. 17-33 all of a sudden and the Tahs need something before the break. They’ve got a scrum 10m out…
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….lovely try! Number 8 Harris picks it up at the base and feeds quickly to Jake Gordon, who wrongfoots the defence to stroll over! 24-33 at the break – the Tahs needed that!
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Rayasi and Savea both stretch their legs a little at the start of the 2nd half. Not much else to report. Tahs win a scrum penalty and set it up inside the Canes 10m line. They go nowhere and eventually have to scramble a hack through off their own line. They don’t find touch and Julian Savea is in for his 2nd! Well weighted crossfield kick by Jordie to pick him out. 24-40
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Tahs charge back from the kickoff and both props carry well! Eventually it’s Harry Johnson-Holmes over! He is a good, mobile prop! 31-40 with 30 to go!
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Nothing much happening until the Canes replacement backrow Braydon Iose busts a weak tackle and hares over from 35m out! Good pace! 31-47 and the Tahs season isn’t getting and better.
They’ve got a penalty in front for offsides, but you feel if they score, the Canes will just go back and do the same. They’ve opted for the scrum and a split back division. Running hard and now upctovthe line and over! It’s Johnson-Holmes again! One for each parent!
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Trisk – dammit! I knew it was Medb, but my fingers typed something else.
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Conversion is miles wide, so 36-47 it stays. Still 20 to go.
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Didn’t know about the séimhiú though….
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Too easy! From the restart the ball goes through the hands, Jordie joins from FB, carves the defence open and offloads for another try. Conversion good and it’s 36-54. Proctor the scorer.
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sounds like someone needs to teach these southern hemisphere types some basic defensive organisation and tackling.
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Tahs with an attacking lineout after the replacement 9 boots it out on the full. They’ve got advantage too. Penalty, offside. Pick and drive off the scrum short arm and another penalty, just metres from the line. They scrum. It’s a mess. They tap and go. Pop pass and over! Jack Maddocks on the scoresheet. Or is this the worst knock on in history?
He’s over, untouched, but rolls over the line on his back and drops the ball getting up before placing it! Horrible! Another penalty and they bash away again. 13 phases and nothing. Final warning for the Canes. Go to the lineout now. They go deep, and flanker Lachlan Swinton peels round from the front to go over untouched through the gap. 43-54. Is there still hope?
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Nope. Tahs take it out the 22 from the restart so can’t kick directly to touch. Canes come back and a few phases later replacement back Patafilo is on the end of the move to score. Leger’s kick is unbalanced and it’s 43-59 with 4 minutes left. Savea scorches down the right touchline forcing the penalty 5m out. Lineout. To the middle and mauled. And replacement hooker Aumua completes the mauling. 43-64 as Orbyn balances the Leger by missing on the other side now.
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CMW, I’d say it’s mostly technique but also it’s a safer shot as the boundary’s about the same length down the ground and straight is easier to patrol than the big sweep of the mid-wicket to backward square boundary. The other thing is the leg side is down hill so if you can get it past the fielder there’s a good chance you can get four.
I’m sure there are technical reasons with the cameras as well but the end they’ve chosen to use makes for more big hits and less chance of losing the ball as just beyond the boundary on the offside is a lot of grass.
I remember playing a game against one club there where we gave one of their batsman the whole of the offside, 1 fielder at mid off, one at backward point because we knew he wouldn’t /couldn’t hit the ball there.
The pitch is much better than it was. The bounce used to be really low unless it had hot hot sun on it for a fortnight so it’s a better contest.
And Chris is the groundsman. He puts on a lot of work with his missus and helpers. He also runs the Cricket Academy, which is a sort of charity/outreach thing. He works really hard and has a real love for the game.
(The cyncial side of me makes me think they’re hoping cricket gets Olympic status so they can get their hands on some good money at some point and it’ll be lambos and cocktails for all the committee types.)
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Last minute. Can the Tahs score 50 and still not get a losing BP? WELL! They run from their own line and Maddocks makes no mistake this time! Great chip over the defence from inside his 22 by Donaldson, I think. And nope. Extras missed. 48-64 final score. 17 tries in all. Make of that what you will.
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Well done Deebs. You’ll need a lie down followed by some lunch after all that….
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Ta, BB, think I’ll have a coffee and some pastries that a lovely lady left in the office.
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Waterboys Update:
Dany says he’s pleased you’re enjoying the cricket, CMW. And he “quite likes the Waterboys”.
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@TomP – I was starting to get the impression that the leg-side boundary is relatively short and the straight boundary not as long as the main camera makes it look though still a reasonable hit, mainly from the odd time we get the angle from backward point-ish and see someone hitting to midwicket from there. It’s hard to judge these things – also the pace of the bowlers. I’m certain that some of them are quicker than they look on TV as professionals very much are, but they can’t all be that much quicker judging by where the keepers are standing, especially as the keepers mostly aren’t all that good*. It’s all been great fun anyway.
*Notable exception of Chris Pearce of course who is doing a different thing to the rest of them that I’ve seen and would be worth an awful lot to his team even if he couldn’t bat. The format (which must be really tough for all the batsmen and bowlers) is in a way actually quite generous to the keepers as there are a lot of marginal leg-side wides. When the keepers then don’t stop them the additional runs have to go against the bowler and in ordinary club cricket they would be byes instead and plenty of them.
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Further to trisk’s chat about Dublin’s dominance of Gaelic Football, RTE had a discussion of it this morning. Someone came up with a possible franchise system to change the face of the game. Not sure it’ll happen but thinking up the nicknames must have wasted a few minutes and the sponsor/ground names show how Ireland’s economy works:
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My immediate thought was why name Galway after spring onions. Then the home ground for Bangor Bravehearts doubled me over.
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Deebs – The Australians seemed so happy when they played amongst themselves. Now they are being thrashed by those dastardly Kiwis.
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Craigs, my immediate impression this morning was that the Aussie sides were caught off guard by the speed of the Kiwi game. Not just the handling, but the speed of thought too.
Got my thoughts drifting to the Lions series and worries that the Boks will be off the pace too, having not played for almost two years by the time the series comes around. I suppose quite a few will have been playing club rugby up north as well as our domestic matches, but they’re light years from Test pace.
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Pfft. getting your excuses in early.
They’ll all be nicely rested and able to reach peak form just in time for the lionz arrival thrown together and knackered after a gruelling season
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