Location Ekok, Cameroon

Summary

Boxing Day 2025 started calmly—I slept well, which already felt like a win. The policeman who had helped me the night before said he’d come back in the morning to help me exchange my remaining naira, since once I moved on, Nigerian currency would be useless. I knew I wouldn’t be able to access any “real” money in Cameroon right away, so getting that exchange done was important.

We hadn’t agreed on a time, so I waited around until about 10:00 a.m., when he showed up on his motorbike. The exchange spot wasn’t far, and I changed a fairly large stack of naira into Cameroonian currency—thankfully ending up with far fewer bills than I started with. Later I realized I’d missed about 60,000 naira, which I’d sort out the next day.

On the way back, we made one more stop—an informal gathering where people were already drinking beer at around 11:00 in the morning. It turned out to be a group of off-duty policemen enjoying their day. In a warm country, beer hits a little differently, and I went along with it, sharing drinks and conversation as best I could, mostly in French. It was one of those moments you don’t plan for and don’t forget.

After that, I returned to the hotel, rested, wandered around town a bit, and eventually had food back at the hotel. Nothing dramatic—just a solid day of recovery and observation, with everyone quietly preparing for Saturday and whatever that convoy would bring. Thanks for coming along.

Location Calabar, Nigeria → Ekok, Cameroon (border region)

Summary

Christmas Day 2025 turned into a long but memorable travel day. I started out well prepared, carrying plenty of cash exchanged into naira, which meant dealing with a literal stack of small bills. Fuel was the next concern, but despite the holiday, most stations were open, and I filled both tanks with diesel before setting off. From there, the road dictated the day—unfinished sections, potholes, and constant truck traffic, even on Christmas.

Navigation took me the long way around, but it ended up being the correct route to reach Ekok, which I knew was necessary to join the convoy into Cameroon. Along the way, there were multiple police checkpoints, passport registrations, and even an unexpected exit stamp before I truly felt like I was at the border. Thanks to working Wi-Fi, I managed the required online exit process from Nigeria without too much delay.

The Cameroon border was almost deserted for Christmas. It was so quiet that officials had to send someone on a scooter to track down the right person to sign my Carnet de Passage. Although my passport wasn’t stamped that day, helpful locals and police guided me step by step—on mopeds, through town, and finally to the local police station in Ekok, where I learned I’d need to return Saturday morning for the convoy. I was welcomed warmly, invited to share food, offered a beer, and even helped with a currency exchange so I could pay for a hotel.

It was a long day filled with uncertainty, rough roads, and bureaucracy, but also generosity and calm problem-solving. Not a bad way to spend Christmas on the road. Merry Christmas.

Location Calabar, Nigeria

Summary

December 24th—Christmas Eve. With plans to leave Calabar on Christmas Day and head toward Ekok in Cameroon for the convoy on Saturday, I decided this was a good day to slow down and walk the city. I headed toward Marina Beach, which isn’t really a beach at all but sits along the water. The walk itself was pleasant, with well-maintained roads and stretches that felt almost like moving through a park.

Once there, I paid a small entrance fee and ended up visiting the slavery museum. It felt like the right thing to do. Inside, I crossed paths with four American kids of Nigerian parents who were visiting family, and we went through the exhibit together with a guide. Some of what I learned was heavy—especially how slavery continued locally even after abolition—but important. It’s mind-blowing to really sit with that history, and I’m grateful it’s no longer an open part of the world.

Later, I wandered into a large city park dressed up for a nighttime event, glowing with lights, music, and a color-changing tower. I didn’t dig too deeply into what was happening, but I took it in long enough to grab a few photos before heading back on foot in the dark. Back near the hotel, a sudden downpour pushed me into the restaurant, which turned out to be more of a loud bar than I expected. I ordered a funga—something I’d never had before—and let the rain and noise pass. It turned out to be a simple vegetable dish with some meat, exactly enough to call it a night.

Nothing dramatic, nothing rushed—just a day of walking, history, light, rain, and food. Life happens if you let it. Thanks for being along for it.

Location Calabar, Nigeria

Summary

I left early again at 7:00 a.m., determined to reach Calabar to get the Cameroon visa sticker in my passport. The ride took about four hours, made better by an older couple heading to a religious conference—they were great company and even stood up to a few police shakedown attempts on my behalf. The road was intense, packed with massive trucks and constant detours, but I arrived around midday and felt on schedule. Lunch turned into an unexpected treat: an instant “Zamzalova” cappuccino and some egg dishes the couple swore by.

At the consulate, things slowed down. The person I needed wasn’t there yet, so I waited, half-watching a soccer game and slowly realizing I wouldn’t make it to the Cameroon border at Ikok before dark. Missing daylight would mean missing the convoy required for security, pushing everything back several days—possibly complicated by Christmas timing. When plans clearly weren’t happening, I adjusted, waited it out, and eventually got the sticker. Turns out the online e-visa was mandatory anyway, so I actually saved time by doing it earlier.

I checked into the US Wig Hotel for a couple of nights and settled into Calabar, which seems like a pleasant city. Even with a three-day delay, I felt surprisingly good about it. Around here, delays are just part of the journey. Thanks for staying with me.

Location From outside Benin City to Warri, ending the day in Aba, Nigeria

Summary

December 22nd started earlier than planned, about 35 kilometers before Benin City, after realizing the previous day’s delays had put me well behind schedule. I set off around 7:00 a.m., still unsuccessfully hunting for a proper cup of coffee — something that turns out to be surprisingly rare around here. The plan was to bypass Benin City, but traffic had other ideas. I got stuck again, this time learning from a man named Innocent that a major accident involving multiple trucks had shut things down since the day before. Thanks to his advice (and a bit of creative driving through ditches I’d normally avoid), I managed to escape the jam and reroute toward Warri.

The road to Warri was more of the same: heavy trucks, uneven roads, and traffic flowing wherever it could fit. Along the way, I picked up a refrigeration repairman heading home. He wasn’t very talkative, but he did point me to Warri’s only mall — where I finally found coffee, served not by a café but by a single person with a small machine at a table in the middle of the food area. That cappuccino felt like a major victory.

After dropping him off, I picked up a mother and daughter heading to Aba. What sounded ambitious turned out surprisingly smooth, with the roads improving after Warri. I still had to drive part of the way in the dark, navigating police checkpoints — most friendly, welcoming me to Nigeria — except for one officer who tried to cite my perfectly fine spare tire. That situation resolved the usual way, costing a bit of cash and some patience. Having the mother and daughter along helped smooth later stops, as they handled the talking.

We reached Aba late, slowed by darkness, and settled in near a hotel where they planned to stay for shopping the next day. For me, it was another long, unpredictable day on Nigerian roads — full of detours, small frustrations, unexpected help, and human moments that make it all worthwhile. Tomorrow, the plan is to head toward Calabar. Thanks for being along for the ride.

Location En route to Benin City, Nigeria — overnight stop in Okorpon

Summary

December 21st turned into one of those days where progress is measured in truck lengths instead of kilometers. What should have been multiple lanes of traffic slowly collapsed into a single drivable lane due to roadwork far ahead, creating hours of stop-and-go congestion packed with heavy lorries. On a Sunday, no less. Potholes, oncoming cars using my side of the road, and endless uncertainty made slow driving the only safe option. By the time darkness set in, it was clear I wouldn’t make it past Benin City, so I stopped in Okorpon and found a simple but welcome hotel for the night. As always during long traffic jams, vendors appeared out of nowhere selling food and drinks, even in the middle of nowhere. The day ended on a human note — talking with Ella, a young woman studying business administration while helping at her family’s food place. Moments like that make the exhaustion fade and remind me that, despite the chaos, it’s the people that make the journey worthwhile.

Location Cotonou, Benin → Lagos & Ikorodu, Nigeria

Blog Summary

December 20th started with a reminder to stay alert. The last turn into Kirk’s Guest House is full of deep open drains where wastewater and rainwater are supposed to go, many of them missing covers entirely. I’ve seen cars stuck in those ditches, and once you’re in, getting out is no small task. It’s just as dangerous for pedestrians, especially with all the ongoing concrete work nearby. Piles of sand get dumped in the street, blocking passage altogether. Caution is part of daily life here.

It was time to leave Cotonou and head toward Nigeria. Border crossings always come with a bit of tension, and this one was no different. Like when I entered Benin, everything was handled in a single location—exit on one side, entry on the other. Helpers were everywhere, occasionally arguing among themselves, but in the end it all worked out.

On the Nigerian side, I learned that a landing card is required. That was something I probably could have handled ahead of time if I’d paid closer attention. Instead, I completed it on my phone, filling out the details on a website and then sending it via WhatsApp to someone at the border. Only after that cleared could I continue. Add in fingerprinting—again—and it felt like a lot of process for very little payoff. Still, I suppose it leaves a clear record that I’ve been there.

Once through, it was time to enjoy the drive. I’d wondered whether Nigeria drove on the left, but it turns out it’s still right-hand traffic, which kept things simple. Everything changes when you cross into a new country, though. The look, the feel, the rhythm—all different.

I had originally hoped to avoid Lagos, but there was really no reason to. It’s busy, yes, but there are good through-roads, and only the market areas slow things down. The light rail construction is impressive where it’s active, even if it’ll be years before it’s fully finished. Time ultimately decided how far I could go, and I ended up in Ikorodu, not much of a destination in itself, but a place to stop.

Finding a hotel led me through some very rough spots. At one point, I drove down a narrow road and got stuck badly enough that my rear wheels were spinning in the air, with the bumper hook scraping the ground. Switching into four-wheel drive got me moving again. The cheap place I’d aimed for was barely an accommodation at all, but good enough for a night.

The man in charge noticed and offered another option, even driving me there himself. He’d lived in England for eight years before returning for family reasons after his father passed away. Now he’s a chef. He took me to the 360 Arena—crowded streets, loud music, but an interesting mix of hotel and entertainment venue. There was food, something to drink, and a lively atmosphere.

Being in Nigeria felt different than expected. You often only hear the bad stories, but there are plenty of good people here. People are friendly, things function in their own way, and if you stay open and adaptable, it works. Thanks for coming along—now you’ve made it to Nigeria.

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.