Found a discarded local axe when I went to the toilet and dusted it off as a souvenir.
Stopped to shop in Mongo where there was absolutely no food to buy. There was, though, a huge well-stocked wine shop for those of us that way inclined.
Just out of town we were subject to a full truck check before we entered Keran National Park which, we'd been told, was home to deer and gorilla. No gorillas showed themselves, but we saw many large red deer and some monkeys, and a troop of baboons rummaging through cartons broken open on the roadside. There were lots of birds, too, including huge black ones with large white crests (possibly white-crested hornbills).
Following lunch off the asphalt we crossed a high, metal-planked bridge, one piece of which broke off beneath us, causing a collective holding of breath. Glasses of Cointreau under a pagoda at a road-side bar calmed our nerves and provided a bit of relative luxury before a long, bone shuddering detour through the back blocks of rural Togo. There's a new granary style here: rather upright with stones and topped with straw caps.
We drove late trying to find somewhere to camp, our chat in the back of the truck moving from Formula One racing to food (a frequent topic of conversation), to junk food and onward, the threads often difficult to follow.
A late roadblock and check by a jerk who got us all out of the truck and then got covered in dust from the back tarp when we deliberately let it flap down. To a string of name calling from Kel, he thumbed through the passports, pretending to read Nikki's although he was holding it upside down.
When we finally pulled over to camp, we attracted an instant audience of local youths, who sat and stood in the front and back stalls and just watched us.
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