Woke up in a furrowed field, just metres from the road. A fire was burning in the small village tucked (and therefore hidden last night) behind rocks on the other side of the road. We had an audience for breakfast and loo squats.
Walked on with Vicki in the early sunshine of a beautiful morning, with scrub and rolling hills beside our dusty road.
Nothing of note in the morning except excellent roads, and the luxury of smooth dual carriageway with overhead lights just outside the city of Garoua. Lush green fields in the distance.
The town didn’t live up to expectations raised by the road, and the camp site wasn't to Kel's liking so we drove around trying to find a hotel for the night, but no luck. Instead, we parked and with hassle-free truck guarding organised, Vicki and I headed off on foot. Found banana milkshakes, but minus the ice so not a patch on Ndjamena’s milkshake man; yoghurt not a patch on Ndjamena's either. Bought crusty-fresh French sticks with butter from a lady in the market and munched our way through the fabric stalls. Some superbly patterned cottons but they wouldn’t sell less than 6 yards except at 3000 CAF.
Back onboard Stanley we moved on, making an extended shopping stop, which will require another reorganisation of stores, before making a roundabout trip out of town and over a large river.
Left the mountains behind us and drove into savanna stretched flat in front of us to the horizon.
Stopped for water in a small village with a bright red Dutch wheel pumping system that required some hard work to fill three jerry cans. Enjoyed cold drinks and a good hair wash.
Camped in another field as furrowed as last night. Spent ages completing the food locker jigsaw.
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