Guinea-Bissau is a small country in West Africa that doesn’t get much media attention. It is located on the Atlantic coast and is bordered by Senegal and Guinea. The country has a population of just under 2 million and is one of the poorest countries in the world. This is partly due to the country’s lack of natural resources and political instability. Since the country gained independence from Portugal in 1974, there have been four coups and many more failed attempts. When the Portuguese left Guinea-Bissau, they left behind only a beer factory as a source of income for the country.
Guinea-Bissau is the first former Portuguese colony we visit on our trip. For the first time we can use our Spanish to communicate, as Portuguese and Spanish are not that far apart. However, we quickly find out that many in the villages only speak the local language, Kriol.
The chant 'Toubab' is replaced by 'Blanco' – which means white in Portuguese. It's still said with a huge smile, but it can get a little annoying to listen to. Especially when children shout it out loud in unison and in time. We feel like turning around on our bikes to see if the local football team is behind us.
We do our best to be the best version of ourselves when we meet locals – smile, wave and interact. It usually comes naturally because everyone is so welcoming and gives us a huge smile that is hard not to return. It is a gift to be so exposed when we travel by bike. We don’t have a car window between us and the locals. We have to stop for water at the well, buy food often so as not to lug too much food on our bikes, and word quickly spreads when we cycle into a village. When we sleep in a village, we are also watched curiously. This leads to many fun encounters and experiences, which is precisely the reason we went. The upside is that we are always available. It is hard to hide if you need to pull your feelers and recharge your batteries.
The mangrove at sunset
As always, we try to take the small roads because we think it's more fun, but also because the cars in Guinea-Bissau don't have brakes. It feels that way anyway. So in the first town, after crossing the border from Senegal, we turn off the main road. We've seen on the map that it's possible to take a small boat across a river inlet through the mangroves to another small town. From there we can cycle to the capital via small roads.
We find the place where the boat is going to sail from, but we can't see a boat or anything resembling a harbor. We ask a group of men sitting a little further up the road under some large trees. They are enjoying the shade, listening to music and talking. They are a mixed group of young, old and middle-aged. Two of the men are wearing uniforms, and the others are hanging out with them. It turns out to be the coast guard. The man who seems to be in charge is wearing sports shorts, a red T-shirt, a woolen hat and a huge cross around his neck. He takes us down to the place where the boat is going to sail from. He looks at the few wooden canoes lying on the sandy bottom, as it is low tide. He shakes his head. That's not an option. We have to wait for the boat, which will come tomorrow.
We understand that the boat arrives at 9am. So even though it's only 4pm, we decide to wait for the boat the next day. We look at each other for a bit and where we can pitch the tent. We don't want to pay for a hotel. We ask the coast guard and they let us pitch the tent in front of their building.
The afternoon is spent hanging out in the small town and with the coast guard. The neighbor, who is an English teacher, comes by and chats and others also come by frequently to hang out with the men. We learn to say; obrigado, boa tarde, bom dia and boa noite in Portuguese, which means thank you, good afternoon, good morning and good evening. It's not quite enough to plan a boat trip.
The next morning we are up in good time, but no boat comes. We have misunderstood the time. The boat does not arrive until 2 pm and leaves again at 3 pm. We are a little tired, but we decide to wait for the boat, as the route looks really exciting. The boat arrives at 3 pm, but it is almost 6 pm before we set off. More and more people, goods and a drunk man come on board, who entertains the whole group. The goods, a couple of goats, people and our bicycles come on board. We are finally ready to set off, but now there is not enough water to push the pirogue free from the sandy bottom. So we wait for more tide. After a while it succeeds, and we sail out through the river system. It is magical to sail through the mangroves at sunset and see how the sky changes color and the red-orange-pink colors change as the sun sets.
We see several women in small wooden canoes out to collect oysters. They sail very close to the mangrove or almost into it and cut the oysters free from the mangrove, on which they sit.
It is dark before we reach the small town of Cacheu, but there are people standing on the quayside waving lights so that the captain can find his way. Just before we reach the small harbor, the engine cuts out and the boat starts to float backwards. Even though we arrive much later than expected, there are some engine problems along the way and eventually the engine cuts out, no one complains. No one stresses. Everyone takes it very calmly. Patience is truly a skill that Africans possess.
Slave Museum and Portuguese Fort
The next day we find the museum, which deals with the extensive slave trade in the area. The city is the first area that Portugal took over in Sub-Saharan Africa, because it was a strategic trading position at the mouth of the Cacheu River to the Atlantic Ocean. From here, the Portuguese transported goods, ivory and slaves to Cape Verde and from there across the Atlantic. The Europeans came with modern technology and ships, so the Africans did not stand a chance in the fight against them. The museum is two floors with panels, descriptions and really informative. Even though we know the history, we still learn new things. None of us have heard that so many slaves came to Brazil, and that India and China also received slaves. How Africa already had a human trafficking system that the Europeans exploited and expanded. According to the museum's figures, 12,500,000 people were transported from Africa across the Atlantic between 1501 and 1866. It is truly a cruel period in human history.
The museum also has information about where slave-like conditions still exist. Scandinavia is fortunately completely free, but it is frightening how many countries still have poorer conditions for workers. Including here in West Africa.
In addition to the museum, there is also a small fortress, which the Portuguese first built in 1588 and later expanded. The fort has a gate, four towers and still has cannons. Although it has been restored, it is still somewhat dilapidated. Compared to a modern fortress, it looks like a miniature version. Especially in proportion to its really large bizarre sculptures of the Portuguese navigators Gonçalves Zarco and Nuno Tristão, who were the first to occupy the coast of Guinea. In the middle of the fort grows a tree with the most beautiful white flowers. They look almost heavenly. It must be for all the people who suffered an unhappy fate under Portuguese rule.
Hospitality in Bissau
We arrive in the capital Bissau in the hectic Friday traffic, so it's time to keep your eyes and ears open. We pass a large market and the city is bustling with activity as they prepare for carnival. Our wheels are pointed towards a campsite located inside the city.
On the way we want to withdraw money and in the queue for the ATM, we get into conversation with Monica and Diana. They both work at a hospital in the city and are from Colombia and Spain respectively. They ask if we need a shower and if we want to stay with them tonight. We said yes in unison. It came so unexpectedly and one of the best things about travelling. Meeting people who have the energy and desire to spend time with foreign travellers.
We pull the bikes around the corner and up to the first floor, where the two women have a lovely apartment. They will work in Bissau for about a year and train nurses and doctors at the hospital. Monica and Diana are starting an extended weekend because of the carnival, so a beer is opened and the atmosphere is really good.
'Mi casa es tu casa' (my house is your house) said Diana from Colombia, and it really brings back good memories of South America. The warmth and hospitality that we encountered throughout the continent. Monica immediately says that we should finally take a shower, and shows us the room where we will sleep. There is a huge double bed and access to the balcony, where the bikes are placed. Monica also cooks for us – super delicious food with vegetables. Afterwards we go on a short walk around the neighborhood, and they tell us about the city.
We have many good conversations, and they tell us, among other things, how the hospital doesn't have much. All patients have to buy what they need for their treatment themselves. And many can't afford it. That's why people die from diseases and complications that could easily be avoided if they had access to a better and more well-functioning healthcare system. Even the needles are bad, and they don't have the opportunity to do many analyses of, for example, blood or scans, says Monica. We don't realize that there is a difference between needles and that medicine is ranked, with Africa often getting the worst. The same applies to the professional level of the doctors and nurses, which is lacking. Diana and Monica have been sent by the Basque Country in Spain together with three others to help and train the doctors and nurses. They really make a difference, and they are busy. They even get called after work by the doctors on duty to ask them for advice.
Once again, we send a thought home, and how lucky we are with our Danish healthcare system with super well-trained staff - which is even free.
We were actually supposed to leave the next day as Monica and Diana are going on a long weekend, but they asked if we would like to stay in the apartment while they are away. We are deeply grateful and hope that they will visit us in Denmark so that we can repay the hospitality they showed us. What a fantastic meeting with some lovely people who came out of the blue.
We have been looking forward to this year's carnival in Bissau and we go out into the streets on Saturday with great anticipation. The main street through the city is closed to cars. People are walking back and forth and having fun with their friends. There are several small football matches going on in the street and the mood is high. There are a few people who are dressed up, and small stalls sell red hats that say 'Merry Christmas'. We talk to locals who tell us that the carnival is really good the next day. So we go out again the next day, but it's the same. We are told that the carnival has changed with the new president, so that it is now only in a limited area. Later we are told that the big parade is not until Monday. Even though we don't see the parade, it is fun to experience the carnival and all the happy people in the streets.
Cashew nuts are the country's most important export commodity.
From Bissau and on towards the border with Guinea we have chosen another route on small roads. We take the ferry from Bissau to the small town of Enxude. It is the same story as last time. The ferry leaves the port a few hours later than planned, but no one raises an eyebrow.
On the other side we are dropped off at a small, landscaped dock. From here we continue on dirt and gravel roads through small villages. There is no electricity here, the water has to be pumped up from the well, and we can see and sense from the people that they don't have much.
Along the way we see many cashew trees, which are one of the country's most important sources of income. The cashew tree was introduced by Portugal, who brought it home from Brazil, and since the 1980s it has played a significant role in Guinea-Bissau's economy. Cashew production accounts for up to 90% of the country's exports and is the most important income in rural areas. It is a fragile model for a country to have invested so much in one product, and it is part of their economic challenge.
Right now the cashew trees are blooming, and we see green fresh cashews hanging on the trees. Kenneth tastes one of them, but it's no success. It's completely sticky, and it's hard to get it off your fingers again. It's too early. Later we see the trees, where there is also a fruit for every cashew. The fruit is bursting with antioxidants and vitamins, but it also has a lot of tannins, so it's a bit sour when you eat it and dries out your mouth. It's often not used for anything, so a lot goes to waste to get a cashew nut. In addition, the fruit, nut and shell are separated by hand. There's nothing to say about cashews costing more than other nuts. We buy cashew nuts from last season at the market. Huge, delicious, juicy cashew nuts that they roast briefly. There's really something about eating food in the country where it comes from and knowing how it grows.
The same goes for the mangoes that we have seen hanging on the trees since Gambia. In Bissau we can finally sink our teeth into the first delicious ripe juicy mango. There are so many mangoes on the trees, and now we believe when the locals tell us that there are so many mangoes in season that it is difficult to get them all eaten.
Better late than never
We choose a small border crossing to cross into Guinea. When we get to the small town, we can't find the border office, as it's in a different place than on our map. So we ask around and are guided up to the main road. On the way, we spot a small lunch restaurant, and then a couple of hungry cyclists are easily tempted to slow down. We decide that we might as well have lunch before we stamp our way out of the country. The woman conjures up an omelet with rice and fresh tomatoes on top.
As we are about to order our food, an employee from the border post comes and asks if we are the ones who will be checking out of the country. That's it. Pretty cool that it has already been rumored from the city to the border office. The woman says something we don't quite understand, but we understand that she wants to show us the way to the border post. A man also comes who seems to have several stars on his shoulder. He also says something, but then disappears again. The woman waits for us, and after we have eaten, she starts her motorcycle and drives us up to the border post. What a service, we think. The woman takes our passports and goes into the office and tells us to wait. And we wait. And wait. It feels like a very long time. We ask how long we have to wait, and the woman explains that the border guard is praying.
At that moment we realize that it is Friday and the border officer is in the mosque. And that the employee has tried to tell us that now is when you can get your passport stamped or after the Friday prayer in the mosque. So even though it goes against our efficient Western brains and plan for the day, it is also a bit amazing that traditions are followed while everything comes to a standstill in the meantime. It is a good test of patience. We manage to arrange a few different things and drink a Coke before the border officer finally comes back. Great, we think. Now is the time. He just had to eat before he could stamp us out.
We are stamped out of Guinea-Bissau by a very friendly and smiling border guard, and it took about three minutes. We wave goodbye and turn down a small dirt road. At the end of the road, we found the man with a wooden canoe that could sail us into Guinea. New adventures await.
