After a week of meetings, meals and general bonhomie in Yaoundé, it was time for the drive back to Douala. Mercifully, we didn’t fly and could experience the wonders of the rainforests and music all over again. As well as the increasingly oppressive security, with the elections less than a week away by now. However, our passports were with the driver, so the looks were more of curiosity at seeing South Africans driving hell for leather around the country than anything else.
We arrived in the early afternoon and were met in the foyer of our hotel (back at Akwa Palace) by Mama Denise, the local manager of the South African Airways office to ensure that we had our tickets for the flight – it was well before the Internet and the luxury of checking in that way were around – and that our luggage would be taken care of at the airport, so we could skip the queues and head for the bar on the other side. The flight was still three or four days away, but she was a gem, wanting us to feel reassured. It’s possible Eric, our host, had paid/strongarmed her into a little show so we could see he was an important man, but that mattered little at the time – we now knew we had legitimate, I think, visas and passports, as well as flights organised.
Mama Denise was a charming lady once we got chatting, and invited us to her home for dinner that evening – a wonderful gesture, although complicated by having our bloody minders around us all the time. With nothing to do, I persuaded Eric to take us to a local market so I could buy some tapes of Manu Dibango and other artists we’d listened to whilst driving around, as well as local chocolate, raw cashew nuts, dried plantains and the other things not accessible in South Africa. Apart from the Dibango tapes, I settled for a few ‘greatest hits’ type compilations of some of the artists to be found on this lovely tribute.
The market was an assault on the senses in every way for this raw traveller – it was by turns blisteringly hot and dusty, chucking it down with hot tropical rain, and sullenly humid. Perfect for a few 33 Exports and spicy goat skewers, then. An absolute kaleidoscope of colour – bright, unabashed and vibrant – underpinned it all, but at the same time, looking with less of a touristy naivete, the lack of proper running water at the food stalls, the piles of plastic and other garbage and the lingering smells of lack of proper infrastructure told its own story of poverty and the daily grind to simply put food on tables, roofs over heads and clothes on bodies: no luxuries for the bulk of people here, just the hustle of survival from day to day, whatever your age or gender.
We got back to the hotel in the early evening, with my head still spinning from the afternoon, a million thoughts about the potential of the country, the people, the culture, the abominable political class and everything in between, to be greeted by Mama Denise, loudly telling us, with a wink unseen by the security mob, that she had reserved a table for us at the hotel restaurant for 8pm. We should all meet in the foyer at that time. Privately, she told us to be there at 7pm to evade our detail.
7pm arrived and I sauntered as casually as possible into the foyer, scanning for the security, who mercifully weren’t around. Mama Denise met us and quickly escorted me and two companions into her slightly battered Renault and we sped off into the looming evening. She drove as fast as one can through a city of faltering lights, water-covered potholes and chaotic traffic and we arrived at her home about an hour later. I have no idea where in Douala it is, or even which direction we drove in.
It was fairly modest by the standards of someone who grew up in a privileged environment in South Africa, but warm and friendly with wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. Mama Denise put on a fantastic spread for us with all the favourites I’d been enjoying over the last week on display and much, much more. Her husband and children joined us and we swapped stories and experiences way into the night, before being driven back to the hotel. What a stunning evening, with a charming family, excellent food and music, and truly enriching conversation. A perfect evening! Except for the stony-faced minders waiting at the entrance, with a sheepish Eric in tow. Mama Denise stood her ground as they aggressively demanded to know where we’d been, finishing the conversation with the most gallic of shrugs and a dismissive wave of the hand as she sped off again. Eric was angry and told us in very direct terms to not do that again. Minders pacified, we went to bed.
The following couple of days followed a similar routine as in Yaoundé, with meetings, lunches and political grandstanding. It was our final night and I was fairly exhausted from the trip, which was something I wasn’t used to. One last dinner, I thought. Fuck, wonder if I can make an excuse? But no, I tagged along to a restaurant with a karaoke bar Eric wanted us to try.
Pretty rustic, wooden tables, plastic chairs, low lighting and very basic toilet facilities (for which he kept apologising, as if it was his fault). A tropical downpour ensured we were there for the evening, with large bottles of 33 Export needing to be consumed quickly to stop them from getting warm in the tropical heat. Heaven.
A skinny, lanky and impossibly dark-skinned guy got onto the stage and introduced himself as the karaoke compere. He then played a Sinatra track as I had my back to the stage, chatting to one of our local business partners who had joined us. Problem was, Sinatra had a very Francophone accent every now and then. I looked back and saw this incredible sound coming out of this most unlikely of singers – he was pitch perfect and loving it, as were we all! A few songs in and Eric joined him on stage (again, being Cameroon, it’s quite possible this was, well, staged, for a few dollars, but hey-ho) and they sang together: Dibi Dibi Rek, a song that Ismaël Lô had released a few years before. Eric could hold a tune, for sure, but not like this kid! But the best part was watching a Cameroonian version of Laurel and Hardy belting out tunes in perfect harmony. Dinner, sublime. West Coast sole, spicy rice and plantains. Heaven.
Waking up the next morning, our last in Cameroon, I wandered down to breakfast with a sore head, but fantastic memories. We went through the motions of eating, checking out and heading to airport, me trying to absorb as much as possible still and enjoy the ambiance, Rob and Felix from Gabon complaining about everything, including Eric our fabulous host, and Nomsa from the Tourism Council, who had joined us again after not bothering for a week, dismissive of ‘dirty Africa’ and hankering after Paris.
We checked in, said our goodbyes – mine fond and lasting for years – the others perfunctory and box-ticking, and headed to the airport bar. Had a few more beers, a couple of glasses of wine, chatted briefly to a few guys I didn’t know and got on the plane back to Joburg via Kinshasa and Harare again. It was an uneventful flight, almost too calm after the last couple of weeks, but allowed time for reflection on what a magnificent place Africa is. A rollercoaster couple of weeks that instilled a love and respect for the continent that will always be in my DNA.
Postscript: Eric and I stayed in touch for years after that trip and I saw him a couple more times on trips to Cameroon, but he then moved to Europe, and I think, the States. Mama Denise retired from SAA a few years later and I never got to meet her again. Nomsa is probably in Paris telling people how dirty Africa is and that she went to a swanky school in Paris, whilst Rob and Felix got hold of me a few times asking for favours through my work, but I told them to do one.
Wanderings by Deebee7
Onna telly this week
Friday 14th October
| Ospreys v Stormers | 19:35 | BBC2 Wales / Premier Sports 2 |
| Connacht v Leinster | 19:35 | RTÉ2 / Premier Sports 1 |
| Sale v London Irish | 19:45 | BT Sport 1 |
Saturday 15th October
| Scotland v Australia (women) | 03:00 | ITV |
| USA v Japan (women) | 05:30 | ITV |
| France v England (women) | 08:00 | ITV |
| Lions v Ulster | 13:00 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Gloucester v Bristol | 15:00 | BT Sport 2 |
| Sharks v Glasgow | 15:05 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Edinburgh v Treviso | 17:15 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Cardiff v Dragons | 17:15 | Premier Sports 2 |
| Munster v Bulls | 19:35 | TG4 / Premier Sports 1 |
| Scarlets v Zebre | 19:35 | S4C / Premier Sports 2 |
Sunday 16th October
| Italy v Canada (women) | 00:45 | ITV |
| Wales v New Zealand (women) | 03:15 | ITV |
| Fiji v South Africa (women) | 05:45 | ITV |
| Harlequins v Leicester | 15:00 | BT Sport 1 |
Monday 17th October
| Saracens v London Irish | 19:45 | BT Sport 1 |
Ovally Balls 
Thauma, I was hoping that we’d storm back in the last 20 and snatch it. Almost did, but just left too much to do. Didn’t help conceding tries at the start of both halves.
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Sharks really turned up the heat in the 2nd half. Scored some lovely tries.
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The bench made a huge difference, as we all thought beforehand. Sharks were too strong in that last quarter.
There are whispers that Fagerson jnr and Cancellieri were very late withdrawals due to a stomach bug and that a good few of the Glasgow players were also unwell but played anyway.
Susie is still working her magic!
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It’s called Durban curry. You’d be thick to try that a day or two before playing rugby. It’s not for the faint-hearted.
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I am going to be insufferable now this lad has come on the scene:
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Cardiff are doing the business now.
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Good win for Munster,
thought they looked a wee bit undercooked to be honest
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Munster too clinical for the Bulls who were fairly one-dimensional. They’ll need to be much better than that to have any say in the knockouts. Early days though, long season ahead.
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Hell, even Glasgow beat the Bulls last week, so they must be crap. Apart from their fullback, who was a speedy wee bugger.
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Ldn Irish are apparently in merger talks with Wasps, if it comes off that leaves only Newcastle from the four that were rumoured to be in trouble
There will probably be more
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Travelled up to Limerick for the Munster vs Bulls game. Small enough crowd – price of diesel, rotten weather, and poor form probably contributed.
We were treated to best Munster performance of the season. Return of a few of the EI lads (Daly, Nash, Salanoa) went into starting XV and Crowley, Hodnett on the bench. Carbery played pretty well – seemed to have overcome his aversion to bringing the ball to the line … and wasn’t just shovelling it on.
Signs of promise … bigger test next week Leinster in the Aviva. Signs are it won’t be very full. Lots of stuff in the media – “woe as Munster fans don’t travel…. ” …..like its our fault that people from a city of about 1.5m can’t be arsed to go to a city centre stadium to support “their local team”.
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So, full disclosure, I’ve lost my awesome write up of commuting. My laptop wouldn’t charge and switched off so I think it’s probably gone.
….
I’ll try to recover it tomorrow.
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It was the best commuting story ever*.
* Unless I find it. In which case it was ok.
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Finished watching The Rings of Power. It’s a bit shit but one thing they do really well is assign accents to the various people based on their qualities. Let me explain:
– elves/Numenor – noble, virtuous and beautiful. The good guys and everyone does what they say. Posh, privately educated southern English accent.
– orcs – course, violent animals. Naturally they are cockneys.
– Dwarves – like breaking rocks and hiding from the weather. Scottish then.
– Half feet – hippies, that hide or run away. Ride their luck quite a bit. Lenny Henry’s oirish.
– Sauron – evil incarnate. North of England, obviously.
Somehow the show ignored the Welsh but I’m sure they’ll feature in season 2.
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I’m sure the commuting piece can only improve with maturity.
Haven’t watched the RoP. Sounded awful.
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Thaum – it’s shit (RoP) and more like The Hobbit than the original films. Plus, I hated most of them. Galadrial is an arrogant, narcissistic prick.
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Scottish meanies beating up the West Indies minnows in the T20 World Cup. Shameless!
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Galadrial is an arrogant, narcissistic prick.
I’m sure Pep has him on the radar already.
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Lenny Henry’s oirish
Took me a while to realise that was what they were trying for… I am wondering whether there’s something in Irish accents that makes them inimitable… or is that just my ear? Do our Scottish posters think the dwarves accents are close or are they comic-style attempts at “weegian”?
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I wasn’t a fan of the LotR films either. But this looks an order of magnitude worse.
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Trisk – I could play a Half Foot innit.
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Won’t someone think of the poor privately educated South Englanders and the butchering of their accent?
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England Squad
Forwards
Alex Coles (Northampton Saints, uncapped)
Luke Cowan-Dickie
Tom Curry
Ellis Genge
Joe Heyes
Jonny Hill
Maro Itoje
Courtney Lawes
Lewis Ludlam
George McGuigan (Newcastle Falcons, uncapped)
Val Rapava Ruskin (Gloucester Rugby, uncapped)
David Ribbans (Northampton Saints, uncapped)
Bevan Rodd
Sam Simmonds
Kyle Sinckler
Jack Singleton
Hugh Tizard (Saracens, uncapped)
Billy Vunipola
Mako Vunipola
Jack Willis
Backs
Henry Arundell
Joe Cokanasiga
Owen Farrell
Max Malins
George Furbank
Will Joseph
Jonny May
Cadan Murley (Harlequins, uncapped)
Jack Nowell
Guy Porter
Raffi Quirke
Marcus Smith
Freddie Steward
Manu Tuilagi
Jack van Poortlviet
Ben Youngs
Unavailable for selection due to injury: Alfie Barbeary, Ollie Chessum, Nic Dolly, Alex Dombrandt, Charlie Ewels, George Ford, Tommy Freeman, Jamie George, Sam Jeffries, Nick Isiekwe, Harry Randall, Will Stuart, Sam Underhill, Jack Walker.
Slade has been dropped then?
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Ah, well…………looks like the sun might be going down on my career.
To be fair, Slade has started the season quietly after shoulder surgery in the summer and there are some terrific new young backs that EJ can play out of position.
I think R-Ruskin, who had a great game at the w/end may be injured – he went off in a bit of pain.
Ribbans is very front foot but has become a penalty machine………….
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Fuck you Jeremy Hunt. Just couldn’t leave IR35 alone could you?
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Craigs, looks weak. Unfortunately poor old Manu should be bracketed in the ‘Unavailable due to injury’ list.
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Deebs – Ben Young’s will carry us through.
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@trisk
I think a lot of people don’t realise there are a lot of different Irish accents so therefore do a bad job of imitating any single one. The difference between Ulster, Cork and Dublin is massive.
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……………… and that’s just in the rugby
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Wasps gone.
All told, 167 people have lost their jobs this afternoon
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Ticht – it’s a real shame. And I expect the job losses are really a lot more than that, as ‘contractors’ won’t be included.
But if Wasps make some sort of deal with London Irish, they can fuck right off.
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Oh, and Craigs – you’ve changed. But I’m not sure who to.
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OT – I can easily exaggerate what remains of my Norn Irish accent through average Belfast to rough Belfast to full-on Paisley Ballymena if I must, but am hopeless at doing a ‘southern’ one.
The mister makes frequent dire attempts at a Norn Irish accent. Absolutely fucking hopeless. I’m nearly certain my attempts at a Caerdydd accent are better. Although probably not much.
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I mean, I can say things like ‘go left’ and ‘isolated’ (the things in the drinking game when Jiffy is commentating) fairly accurately, but ….
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Thaum – it’s not about values or principles, just what’s slightly better for me.
Tbh it makes it slightly harder to find temp work but it’s fine. I’m more annoyed that I was closing my company, then not closing it, and now I’m going to close it.
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Words Deebs.
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Thaum, I remember Jessie Buckley doing a decent, if a bit posh, Glasgow accent for the film Wild Rose. In a radio interview she said that the phrase that makes her kick into the accent is “Glasgow Rangers”
I do an appalling Norn Irish accent of no fixed abode, I kick into it by saying “Wharra bite ye?”
A thing that I often repeat is something a Nordie mate once said, sarcastically, “That’s far fucking out so it is” in his Derry voice
Written down it loses the humour, but it was very funny in context
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Words Deebs.
‘Looks weak’ is fairly standard, but thanks.
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I had a couple of lovely Irish lasses at uni with me – one from Dublin-ish and the other from Belfast. Was the first time I realised just how different the accents were. Then saw Ian Paisley on TV and wondered what language he was speaking for a while.
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Craigs – when I said ‘you’ve changed’, I was referring to your avatar, not your stance on IR35!
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Craigs is Joe Launchbury, if I’m not mistaken
He, Launch, is said to be joining Quins
Deebs, hardly anyone knew wtf Paisley was on about
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Thaum – oh! Yeah I’ve always like Joe as a player (always gives 100%) and the photo of him winning motm against aus in the 2015 RWC pretty much sums everything up right now.
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Photo is here (sorry for posting the Fail):
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/rugbyunion/article-3259384/amp/Joe-Launchbury-named-man-match-despite-masterclass-Bernard-Foley-England-crashed-Rugby-World-Cup-humiliating-defeat-Australia.html
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Ticht – nice to hear. He’ll do well there.
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Re accents; our Google nest thermostat thingy broke and we just had a northern sparky replace it. Mrs Craig’s (must have mentioned this) spent most of her childhood up north and in Scotland but she couldn’t understand his accent.
I told her she’s southern now and she couldn’t disagree.
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Stop me if I’ve told this one before, but I worked on the Goodwood estate building stock fencing and a sandschool for Duchess’s ponies
The children were toddlers and their nanny was from Newcastle. So these little kids, heirs to all you could see in any direction were growing up with Geordie accents.
It made me chuckle, but I don’t suppose the accents survived prep school and then boarding school.
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@ticht
Me too. My go-to phrase is “I’ll stick a brick through your windy, so I will!”
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were growing up with Geordie accents
Well, having worked there for a year – it is a “catchy” accent. You’re not long there before you’re responding to questions with “well..ah divven nah” (trans. I don’t know) or telling people you’re leaving with “Ahm ganning hyam” – I’m going home.
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Trisk, I worked with a Geordie for a bit, his brother married a Thai woman.
She improved her English in her place of work with the help of her colleagues, so she’d come home with phrases like, “Wur Mary’s fell wrong”
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I know it’s not a laughing matter, but this headline in the Daily Star (which I got from the Graun, I hasten to add) did make me laugh:
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