Location Cotonou, Benin

Blog Summary

December 19th was a day for exploring a bit further. I set out to see more of the town and quickly found myself moving through some rough neighborhoods where the roads simply aren’t finished. Getting around meant weaving through deep holes and broken stretches. It’s the dry season, which helps, but it still makes every short trip feel like an exercise in patience.

I also learned there’s an Angolan representation here, and I managed to track down the location—even though it wasn’t very clearly marked. After waiting around for about an hour with no one showing up, I decided to abandon that plan and leave it for another country, most likely Cameroon.

The rest of the day was spent searching for a decent place to sit down for coffee, tea, or a bite to eat. That’s often easier said than done. Sometimes the place I’m looking for doesn’t exist at all, or it exists somewhere else and I just can’t track it down. I eventually found a spot that was good enough, though even that came with its own quirks. Every time something was needed, the person helping me had to disappear through another door to a different part of the shop, which made everything take a bit longer. Luckily, time wasn’t in short supply that afternoon.

In the evening, I went looking for music and found a place close to where I’m staying, though it didn’t really get going until much later. While waiting around, I ended up meeting two German guys in their mid-twenties. One of them is on a mission to attend soccer matches in as many countries as possible—not on a screen, but in person, in a real stadium. He’s already been to 64 countries doing this and somehow skipped several that are close to home in Germany. They were only in town for a few days, and then one of them was heading off to India to continue the same routine.

Soccer, of course, is everywhere in Africa, especially with Morocco’s recent success. I often run into matches playing on screens, even if it’s hard to figure out who’s actually playing. Still, sometimes the real entertainment isn’t the game itself, but watching the crowd react to it. That’s how the day unfolded. Thanks for coming along, and more tomorrow.

Location Cotonou, Benin

Blog Summary

December 18th was a big day. I picked up my Nigerian visa, and that alone felt like a small victory worth pausing for. I’d heard too many stories about people being denied an E-visa, which is exactly why I chose to do this in person. With visa rules constantly shifting, it felt good to walk out successful—especially knowing some applicants were asked for a Benin residence card. I wasn’t, and that made all the difference.

With that weight lifted, it was time to celebrate. I stopped at Pura Vida for a croque monsieur, Benin style, and a ginger drink. Simple, but meaningful. It reminded me of Ryan, who loved that treat when we traveled through French-speaking places. He’s no longer with us, but moments like that keep him close and quietly fuel why I keep moving forward.

The rest of the day was about recalculating the route ahead. I’d planned to pass through Ibadan, but that connection no longer made sense. I still need my Cameroon visa—an e-visa first, followed by a physical sticker issued in Calabar, one of the last Nigerian towns before the Cameroon border. It’s not the shortest route, but knowing this now saves a lot of wasted miles later.

I wandered the neighborhood a bit more and found it genuinely pleasant. I wish I had more time to linger, but time is the one thing that always seems scarce on a journey like this—even when it feels abundant. Thanks for coming along. More tomorrow.

Location Grand Popo, Togo → Cotonou, Benin

Blog Summary

Good day. December 17th. It was time to head into Benin—another new country on the route. The drive followed the coast, and once again it delivered: beautiful stretches of shoreline and an easy rhythm on the road.

The border crossing at Hilacondji was a bit unusual. Everything—exiting one country and entering the next—happened in pretty much the same spot. As always, there was some confusion, a bit of extra money involved, and plenty of waiting around, but after an hour or two it was done and I was on my way.

From there, it was straight to Cotonou and Carl’s Guest House, where I settled in for three nights. An earlier accommodation plan had to be canceled due to visa requirements, but there’s almost always a workaround. The guesthouse was basic, with no parking inside, but the street felt safe enough and it worked.

My main mission for the day was the Nigerian Embassy. Visa prices seem to be climbing, and this one came in at 300,000 CFA for next-day processing—though I was told it might even be ready the same day. Tomorrow morning sounded perfect. I also got some useful tips about routes, convoys, and what to expect once on the other side in Nigeria. Plans to head toward Ibadan were already starting to shift.

After that, I wandered the neighborhood and grabbed a coffee at a nearby hotel—something I’ve learned to appreciate more and more when it’s available. Three people were sitting nearby, and as I was about to leave, I struck up a conversation. It turned out to be a Dutch couple, Yumi and Thais, and another traveler, Jim Dalton.

What I hadn’t noticed were their white Land Cruisers parked nearby. All three were overlanding Africa, but in the opposite direction from me. Even more interesting—they’d been in contact with each other on WhatsApp for a long time and were only just meeting in person for the first time. I happened to drop right into that moment.

Yumi and Thais were recovering from malaria, and Jim had been dealing with his own health issues, but all of them were back on their feet. Both vehicles had been shipped from Australia. Yumi and Thais had gone there first, then decided to tackle Africa. Jim, originally from England, had worked in Australia as an underwater welder—a job that clearly funded some serious adventures.

They all shared an appreciation for the carnet de passage, though the question of what to do with a left-hand-drive vehicle later on was still up in the air. Jim’s timeline was tight, with his carnet expiring by the end of February, while Yumi and Thais had already been on the road for about six months and still had more ahead before settling in the Netherlands.

It was one of those chance encounters that sticks with you—encouraging, grounding, and oddly reassuring. Hearing firsthand stories from people who had already come through Nigeria made the road ahead feel a lot less intimidating. We exchanged numbers, said our goodbyes, and went our separate ways.

Thanks for coming along. See you tomorrow.

Blog Title Palm Trees, Strong Surf, and a Quiet Night in Grand Popo

Location Lomé → Grand Popo, Togo

Blog Summary

Good day for December 16th. It was already time to leave Lomé. I’m not spending long stretches in many places, and a lot of that comes down to visas. They’re nerve-wracking, and border crossings can be too, but you just trust that things will work out.

I left Lomé at a reasonable hour, knowing I wouldn’t go far and would stay within Togo. That’s how I ended up in Grand Popo, a small coastal town along the way. Just before town, I stopped at a bamboo beach resort where I was pretty sure I was the only guest. The owner never showed up, but the caretaker handled everything just fine.

Once again, the ocean was tempting. I tried swimming, and once again I was reminded why it’s not always a great idea out here. The sand rises sharply near the shore, which makes the water rush in and out fast. Get caught in that zone and you’re flipped around, sandblasted, and momentarily unsure which way is up. I didn’t have to fight my way back to safety, but it was closer than I was comfortable with—close enough to file that experience away for a while.

Nearby, the town was full of fishing activity. There are boats of all sizes, and even the biggest ones—still fairly small—carry around 30 people out to fish. They don’t go for long and don’t even take ice. When I asked about competition from large trawlers, I was told the navy patrols offshore to keep them away, making sure the local fish supply stays strong. Fish really is a big deal here, something I’ve seen again and again across West Africa.

I stayed along the coastal route, surrounded by palm trees, coconuts, and bits of agriculture. The place I stayed didn’t serve food, but a nearby spot helped out. It took some effort on their part, and when I asked for a beer it was initially forgotten. They eventually tracked one down—not quite as cold as I’d hoped—but that hardly mattered.

Palm trees, beach, and a quiet place to sleep—hard to ask for much more. This was my last night in Togo. Tomorrow, the journey continues. Thanks for coming along.

Location Tegbi & Keta, Ghana → Lomé, Togo

Blog Summary

Good day. December 15th. It was time to leave Tegbi with Julius—but not before he showed me a bit of his world. We walked down to the end of his road and watched fishermen lined up along the shore, chanting in rhythm as they hauled in nets set out in the sea. I didn’t film it out of respect, but seeing it unfold was powerful—quietly fascinating in a way that sticks with you.

From there we headed past Keta to a waterfront development Julius has been involved in, continuing the kind of community work his father once did in the area. We also stopped at Fort Prinzenstein, a crumbling reminder of the slave trade. It’s not an easy place to visit, but it feels important to see history as it really was, even when it’s uncomfortable.

After dropping Julius back home and saying goodbye—grateful for the stay and the connection—it was on toward the Togo border. The crossing cost a bit more than it probably should have, but the helpers did what helpers do: they made things move faster. Sometimes convenience is worth a few extra bills. No real hiccups—just security checks, passport stamps, and the familiar rhythm of border formalities.

By evening I was in Lomé. After checking out a couple of places that didn’t quite fit, I ended up at Robinson Beach Plage, tucked past town near an industrial area. You’d never guess it once inside, though—except for the distant cranes and, at night, a surprising lineup of ships offshore, all lit up and waiting.

The ocean was tempting, but the surf was strong—more of a place to respect the water than casually swim in it. Dinner was solid, the gardens were beautiful, and it turned out to be a good spot to unwind. Togo, or at least Lomé, felt relaxed and easygoing. Thanks for coming along—more tomorrow.

Location Treehouse Bed & Breakfast → Keita / Tegbi, Coastal Ghana

Blog Summary Good day. December 14th. It was time to leave the Treehouse. As much as I enjoyed the place, when you’re traveling like this, you have to keep moving. Thankfully, Yao had arranged a connection for me in Keita, a coastal town still within Ghana, which gave me a clear next destination.

The day started on a high note with a delicious pancake breakfast, followed by goodbyes all around. Ash even stopped by, which felt fitting—after all, he’s the one who had first nudged me toward the Treehouse in the first place when we crossed paths in town. It was great to see him again before wrapping things up, settling the bill, and hitting the road.

Driving along the coast was beautiful, as always. I never get tired of seeing the countless fishing boats lining the shore and the sheer number of people involved in fishing. Fresh fish is never an issue here, and in many cases it’s already cooked—just pick it up and eat. There’s something wonderfully simple about that.

I headed toward Keita, stopping first in the town of Tegbi, where Julius Sowu had invited me to stay. Even though it took a bit of knocking and waiting to wake him up, I eventually made it inside. Julius now looks after a small set of condominium units started by his father, who has since passed away. At the moment, Julius is the only occupant, slowly working to bring the place back into shape.

He has a massive mango tree on the property, though this year’s fruit came in smaller than usual, likely due to late rains. Julius himself is part Irish and part Ghanaian and spent around 35 years in England. Despite having an engineering degree, he ended up running British pubs for most of that time. After two heart attacks and other health issues, he decided it was time for a quieter life and moved back to Ghana.

Now he’s settled here, offering travelers like me a simple but welcoming place to stay. The setup is basic and still needs work, but that’s exactly what he’s focusing on for the foreseeable future. We went out for a beer at his favorite local spot and, despite my small appetite, he took me to a surprisingly good place for a salad. Salads aren’t always the first choice while traveling through Africa, but this one turned out to be excellent.

In the end, I slept well and had a truly great day—made even better by Julius’s stories and generosity. Thanks for coming along, and catch you later.

Location Treehouse Bed & Breakfast, north of Accra, Ghana

Blog Summary Good day. Saturday, December 13th. I took the morning to catch up on some recordings and then spent a bit of time walking around the neighborhood, getting a better sense of how things work here. It’s always interesting to slow down and really observe a place once the initial arrival buzz fades.

After Joe returned from Accra, where he had gone to pick up his two sons—14 and 16—from their boarding school, he explained more about the area and how it came to be. The land was originally bought by a man named Herman, who later subdivided it into individual parcels while keeping a homeowners association in place. There are around 83 parcels, about 63 owners, and roughly 40% of the properties have dwellings on them, though not all are occupied. Many of the owners are foreigners as well.

Joe clearly has his work cut out for him. Between organizing the homeowners association, figuring out road maintenance, and managing shared infrastructure, there’s a lot to coordinate. Water is another challenge—wells have been drilled for some properties, going as deep as 72 to 100 meters because the land sits on a hill. All of it is fascinating to hear about and gives real insight into what it takes to build and maintain a place like this.

At some point, Ken and Rose from Scotland headed out. They’re traveling in a red Land Rover and have already been on the road for six months, taking things at a relaxed pace. Chances are I’ll run into them again—that’s often how these journeys go.

Later, a WhatsApp message came in for Yao from the Reliant guys with the three-wheeled car. They had already left the day before toward the Togo side, hoping to visit some waterfalls, but ran into serious trouble when their gearbox failed. They were left with only fourth gear—not exactly ideal for a vehicle like that. They reached out to see if Joe could help arrange a tow and a place to install a replacement gearbox, which they’ve ordered and expect in about a week. Big setback, but at least they’re safe. As I’m recording this, it’s already late in the evening and the tow truck still hadn’t reached them yet.

Adding to the mix, the French travelers with the 1985 Renault returned after figuring out what they still needed before continuing their journey. It really is a constant flow of people, stories, problems, and solutions here.

All in all, it’s just a fun place to be—listening to the jungle sounds at night, which instantly take me back to Suriname, and sharing space with people who are all moving through the world in their own unique ways. Thanks for coming along and being part of this journey.

Location Accra, Ghana → Treehouse Bed & Breakfast (north of Accra)

Blog Summary: Good day. Friday, December 12. I realized I had left out an interesting encounter from the day before—one of those moments that ends up subtly changing your plans. After stopping at an ATM to withdraw some cash using my wife’s card, I returned to find my car blocked by someone trying to take photos of it. That someone was Ash, and his curiosity quickly turned into conversation.

Ash asked if I knew a Dutchman named Yao, which didn’t ring any bells at first. Then he mentioned the Treehouse Bed and Breakfast, about an hour north of Accra—a well-known spot among overlanders. I hadn’t planned on going there, but Ash’s enthusiasm was contagious. Before I knew it, he was calling the owner, Joe, and shortly after, I committed to heading there later that day.

The morning continued with a meaningful meeting at 10 o’clock with Israel Wuresah at Vida e Café in Accra. Israel is deeply involved with bridgestodevelopment.org and has taken on a new role called Wings. We talked at length, and I even recorded part of our conversation. It gave me a much clearer picture of the work Bridges is doing, particularly in Ghana and Malawi, with more countries involved that I’ll dig into later.

After that, I picked up my DRC visa and ran into the Dutch guys again, full of ambitious ideas—like attempting to cross Nigeria in a single day. Optimistic, to say the least. By around 3 o’clock, I left the city. Traffic was manageable, though it still took over an hour to actually find the Treehouse BnB.

Getting there turned out to be an excellent decision. The place was buzzing with other overlanders, and there’s always something grounding about swapping stories and plans with people on similar journeys. A German couple stood out—they’ve been traveling for three and a half years, working about 15 hours a week online, and somehow making it all work. They’d covered much of Eastern Europe, were now finishing Africa, and were heading back to Germany.

Yao himself wasn’t there that day, as he was picking up his kids from boarding school, but I’ll be meeting him tomorrow. All in all, it was one of those days shaped by chance encounters, meaningful conversations, and the simple joy of being in the right place at the right time. Thanks for coming along—it really is a fascinating journey.

Location Accra, Ghana

Blog Summary

Good day. Thursday, December 11th. I set out thinking this would be a straightforward trip to the DRC Embassy to apply for my visa—but travel has a way of surprising you. Sitting outside the embassy was another Land Rover, this one with Dutch plates, belonging to three guys from the Netherlands who were on an ambitious mission of their own: driving from Europe all the way to South Africa. They’d started back on November 21st, and just hearing their timeline made my own journey feel both relaxed and incredibly privileged.

None of us could do much more than submit applications, which meant we were all effectively stuck until the next day. We opted for the express visa—an extra $50 on top of the already hefty fee—because waiting until Monday just didn’t make sense. Time on the road costs money too, and momentum matters. With hours to kill, we grabbed coffee nearby, swapped stories, and talked through routes, schedules, and the realities of pushing a vehicle across a continent.

After that, it was back to logistics for me—specifically insurance. What followed was a familiar dance of wrong floors, empty offices, and polite redirections until I finally landed at the right assurance office. A bit of traffic later, everything fell into place. A modest payment got me covered with third-party insurance through Nigeria and the countries in between, buying me peace of mind for the next leg.

By the time I made it back, Robbie wasn’t feeling great, so the pace slowed. Shannon and I talked, ate, and appreciated the rare luxury of staying in one place for a few days to actually sort things out. Tomorrow would bring the next step, but for now, it felt good to pause, reflect, and be grateful for the journey—and for having you along for it.

Location: Accra, Ghana

Blog Summary: December 10th was a day of slow but meaningful progress in Accra. I picked up my Congo visa, started untangling the complexities of ECOWAS car insurance, and accepted that some things would have to wait until tomorrow. Even with offices closing early and addresses that led nowhere, the day ended on a high note with a simple, delicious tilapia dinner and good company.