We’re 45 or so days deep into this epic overland adventure, and today we’ve added another layer of red dust to our already well-seasoned existence. We’ve become monuments to Guinea-Bissau’s finest dust collection. Seriously, everything is red. The truck, our gear, our faces—only baby wipes stop us from passing as terracotta statues.
Last night, we made the glamorous choice of camping on an access road under some high voltage power lines. It was a “well that’ll do” camp, as we couldn’t find better locations that afternoon.
We were visited by some very perplexed locals who were clearly wondering, “Why are these dusty strangers parked here in their school bus on steroids?” My attempt to bridge the language gap with recently learned bad Spanish was, shall we say, creative. I may or may not have accidentally told them we were from the moon. They didn’t look convinced, but they also didn’t stick around to argue.
As we drive the jungle outside the truck window continues to serve up a mixture of red dust, lush green jungle, and interspersed with villages that make us want to hit pause and explore. The kids are my favorite part—they see the truck and smile and wave like we are rockstars. The truck’s sunshine-yellow paint job is definitely earning its keep as we amuse and confuse locals in equal measure.
Today I’m wearing makeup by Estée Dust, hair by unkept growth and wind. Clothes by It doesn’t smell too bad and The stains look great.
Dust aside, there’s something deeply beautiful about watching the world go by at our average of 40 kilometres an hour, knowing full well that tomorrow is bound to be just as unpredictably wonderful. Hopefully tonight’s bush camp is more than a dirt road!
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