Stolen!

So that wasn’t what I expected to happen today. 

Tick Run through the campsite, then forest shirtless chasing after a baboon that’s stolen my laundry bag off my bucket list.

Border Delays and a Bush Camp Win

 Our streak of smooth border crossings finally came to an end yesterday. After weeks of defying expectations and cruising through immigration checkpoints, Ghana decided to remind us that overlanding isn’t always about luck—it’s primarily about patience.

The culprit? A visa date mix-up. One of our group’s visas had an expiry date of December 31, and, of course, we rolled up to the border on January 1. The officials were sympathetic but firm—rules are rules, even when the error is clearly a technicality.

Cue hours of negotiations, plans, and waiting. The officials tried to issue an emergency visa, but the station chief—the only one with the authority to approve it—was MIA, apparently due to “festivities” which sounds suspiciously like nursing a New Year’s hangover. It took several hours to track him down, retrieve the key, and finally get the visa issued.

By the time we hit the road again, it was 6 p.m., and night was closing in fast. Paul, ever the wizard, pulled off another miracle camp find—a quiet field tucked away from the road. As far as last-minute bush camps go, it was a solid win.

We raced the fading light to get our tents up, and dinner was whipped together quickly. With nothing left to do but relax under the stars, I took full advantage of the early night. I must have passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow because I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the next stretch of the journey.

Honestly, there’s just something about bush camps that I love. They feel real. The simplicity, the quiet, and the sense of being completely off the grid—it’s unbeatable.

Now we’re officially in Ghana, ready for new adventures and hopefully no more visa surprises. But if we do run into more hiccups, I’ll take another night in a peaceful field any day!

Shopping Sprees, Modern Malls, and New Year’s Cheers

 Happy New Year from the back of Nala! I know, I know—nearly a week since my last update. How tardyof me! But what a week it’s been. After Christmas at Kpatawee Falls and a surprisingly smooth border crossing into Côte d’Ivoire, we made such good time that we earned ourselves four whole nights at a lovely campground near Abidjan. Four nights! That’s practically a holiday within the holiday.

Abidjan turned out to be a modern, bustling city, and a few of us decided to head in for a “bus” adventure. Now, when I say bus, let’s be clear: it was more of a van bursting at the seams with people. But it got us there, and with the windows open (or missing), we even had “air conditioning” courtesy of the breeze.

Our first destination? Decathlon—a popular retailer of outdoor gear and clothes in Africa. But on the way, we stumbled across Orca, which is best described as Africa’s answer to Walmart. Naturally, shopping happened. I picked up a few things Nala was missing because even a truck needs a little TLC now and then.

Yes, they even sell a Candy Floss (Cotton Candy) machine. The actual machine. Unfortunately we couldn’t get it

Decathlon didn’t disappoint either, though the highlight of the day had to be the mall next door. Imagine stepping out of the dusty roads of West Africa and into a high-end Western mall complete with a Burger King, a Bose store, and everything else you’d expect back home. It was so shiny and polished I almost forgot where we were.

The cherry on top? Going to the movies. And since we’re in Africa, what better movie to watch than The Lion King—in French. It was oddly fitting, even if my French comprehension is limited to picking out dramatic moments based purely on the soundtrack.

The rest of our days in Abidjan were slower-paced—more shopping for Nala, reorganizing gear, and generally resting up before the New Year.

New Year’s Eve was a proper celebration. We went out to a restaurant, ate far too much, and some of us even made it to midnight to toast goodbye to 2024 and welcome in 2025. Others (raises hand) celebrated a bit too hard and woke up the next morning with a hangover the size of West Africa.

And now, here we are—New Year’s Day, back on the road, nursing headaches and sipping water as we aim for the Ghana border. The goal is to cross today and keep pushing forward to Accra, the one quarter marker of the entire trip.

New year, new country, new adventures—and hopefully, no new hangovers anytime soon!

New Year, New Haircut, New Clothes, Same old me.

Christmas at Kpatawee Falls

Christmas at Kpatawee Waterfalls was beautiful. The camp itself felt like a slice of paradise, nestled in lush greenery with beautiful falls perfect for lazing around. Apparently, it’s a bit of a festival hotspot, though we mostly had it to ourselves, aside from the small party that wrapped up early.

Christmas Eve was gloriously lazy. Lounging around, enjoying the scenery, and—let’s be honest—sampling the ridiculously cheap alcohol. A 1L bottle of local beer for $2.50? Yes, please. And the 60ml bottles of coffee rum liqueur for the equivalent of $0.60 were both dangerous and delicious. Potent doesn’t even begin to describe them.

Christmas Day was a feast to remember. Paul worked previously unknown culinary magic, grilling vegetables and various meats over a charcoal fire. The crew outdid themselves with a breakfast and lunch spread so good that dinner was unnecessary. We even decorated Nala, with tinsel and Santa hats, and with my tent lights doubling as festive ornaments. She looked fabulous—probably her most glamorous moment yet.

The presence of 20+ local and federal police added an unexpected touch of security theater to the day. Apparently, they were preparing for a big festival crowd that never quite materialized. By 8 p.m., the “festival” had fizzled out, leaving us to carry on with our own celebrations well into the night. The drinks flowed, the stories got funnier, and we toasted to a great Christmas.

Boxing Day brought us back to reality—or at least the overlanding version of it. We packed up camp and hit the road for Côte d’Ivoire (CDI), bracing ourselves for a potentially rocky border crossing. We’d heard horror stories, including one Oasis truck that had to camp for five days in no man’s land after CDI decided to throw a bureaucratic tantrum.

But—miracle of miracles—our crossing was smooth as butter. Start to finish, it took just 1 hour and 20 minutes, which might be a record for this trip. Spirits were high as we rolled into CDI, making the most of the remaining daylight to push further down the road and cut tomorrow’s drive time.

The holiday vibes are still lingering, but it’s time to refocus on the journey ahead. New country, new stories waiting just around the corner. Cheers to surviving Christmas in the jungle—and to not spending Boxing Day trapped in no man’s land!

Monrovia Madness and Christmas Preparations

Monrovia is alive. The drive into the city was pure chaos—honking horns, weaving traffic, and that magical kind of gridlock where a 10-minute drive somehow transforms into an hour-long odyssey. Honestly, it felt less like driving and more like surviving. But we made it!

The big win of the day? We secured our Cameroon visas—another stamp closer to the finish line. With that bit of paperwork out of the way, there was even time for some shopping. I treated myself to a bottle of one of my favorite whiskeys, safely tucked away for Christmas Day celebrations. Because if you can’t toast to surviving West African roads on Christmas, when can you?

I’m also starting to feel much more at ease here. The longer we travel, the more comfortable I get with chatting to locals, navigating markets, and eating at street-side food stalls. I’m even dabbling in local dishes when I can (though “vegetarian” remains a bit of a foreign concept outside the cities). Conversations often start with a smile, a proper handshake—which I’ve mastered now—and sometimes a few words of Krio or the local dialect. It’s usually just a “thank you” or something basic, but people always light up when you make the effort.

Speaking of heart-pounding experiences, I had my first go on a motorcycle taxi. For anyone feeling nostalgic about their most reckless teenage years, this is the way to relive it. Clinging to the back of a speeding bike, dodging potholes, pedestrians, and cars, all while questioning your life choices—it’s exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. Highly recommend (but also, maybe don’t).

Tomorrow, we leave the urban chaos behind and head to Kpatawee Waterfall camp for Christmas —two nights to relax, celebrate, and hopefully enjoy some downtime before hitting the road again. I can’t wait to crack open that whiskey, share stories by the fire, and enjoy a bit of overland holiday magic.

Merry Overlanding Christmas—bring on the celebrations!

Chimpanzees, Packing, and a Smooth Border Crossing

Tiwai Island turned out to be an unexpected gem. Nestled in the middle of a river, it’s a chimpanzee sanctuary where the residents are safe because—fun fact—chimps can’t swim. It also doubles as an eco-resort, and we spent a night there soaking up the tranquility.

I’d braced myself for a rough transition back into tent life after four nights of hotel luxury, but surprisingly, I slept better than I have in awhile. Maybe I’m officially becoming feral? Or maybe the rhythm of overland life just agrees with me now. Either way, the air mattress and tent felt like home.

Another highlight? They cooked for us—three whole meals! No cook group shopping or playing Tetris with pots and pans. Just hot, ready-to-eat food. Bliss.

Packing for the trip to the island was also a small triumph. I managed to fit everything I needed—binoculars, sleeping bag, air mattress, clothes, wash bag, and even my tent—into my 35L backpack, affectionately named Coyote. It felt like a small win, but a good one.

A friend I made

We left the island with no real urgency, having a gloriously lazy 1 p.m. departure. From there, it was straight to the Liberia border. And what a breeze that crossing was! We didn’t even have to get off the truck. The crew handled everything while we lounged in our seats, which gave me time to reflect on how much work they save us. Many seasoned overlanders on this trip say that the biggest perk of an organized tour isn’t the group dynamic or the route planning—it’s skipping the bureaucratic nightmares of visas and border crossings. After today, I get it.

Once in Liberia, we found a quiet field off the road for another classic bush camp. No rivers or waterfalls this time, but it was peaceful and practical. The only hitch is the mobile data situation—it’s very spotty here. Normally, I’d just shrug it off, but I need to submit a customs form for my care package before Christmas. Fingers crossed I find a signal soon because explaining “holiday delays” from the middle of West Africa might be a stretch!

For now, though, it’s another night under the stars, with a full stomach, a now unpacked and messy bag, and the sound of distant road noises to send me to sleep. Overland life rolls on!

A Little luxury

One little luxury I brought with me is a USB personal handheld fan. I had thought I’d use it on the truck, but given we’re usually going 50kph with the sides open, the fan doesn’t really do much. It is useful when we are occasionally stuck in the truck, in traffic or at a border.

But it really came to shine in the tent. It’s hot and muggy, and I have rigged the little fan to hang from the ceiling and blow directly on me. It’s a little piece of luxury.

Looking up at the ceiling of the tent.