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Journal of African trips

Africa, spring 1999 part III

Agelasto
2004-05-21 18:12:22

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was Ngorkro then destined for such attention? It just so happens that Ngorkro
had a very special resident, a little old lady named Nana Yamoussou, who happened to
have the good fortune to give birth to none other than Felix himself. Felix?s payback was
to build his mom a city and throw in a basilica to boot. All mothers should be so lucky.

And what a building it is. Quoting from my guide book: There are 36 stained glass
windows, in 4000 shades, each 30m high, covering an acreage of glass greater than that at
Chartres cathedral. My favorite statistic is that the basilica?s construction required the
equivalent of an entire year?s output of French white cement. (And you can guess which
country was more than glad to supply the cement). I won?t go into more details. Suffice
it to say that the basilica is impressive in many respects.

Yamoussoukro as a city is weird; there?s no better way to describe this aspiring
metropolis. It is spread out, seemingly designed for a population of several million, at
present suffering only about 100,000 people. Much of city remains vacant lots. The
basilica is placed in what amounts to a large sandlot about 3 kilometers from the center of
town (there is no downtown). Throughout Yamoussoukro you see the occasional
government building scattered among single story residences; all the streets are macadam.
I suspect the town has more kilometers of paved streets than Abidjan. There is a
presidential palace, of course, where Felix is entombed. It is surrounded by a mote filled
with crocodiles. I don?t know why Felix?s bones have not been enshrined in the basilica.
It is certainly where he belongs.

I arrived in Yamoussoukro at 2 a.m. on the bus from Man, the city where the bush taxi
from Guinea had deposited me. There?s nothing special about Man but it is a quite pleasant place to spend a day between busses. There are interesting places to hike to,
including a waterfall, the cascade. This is the dry season, though, and there was only a
trickle of water to be found. There were 20 touts and tour guides for me, the only tourist,
to choose from. To their dismay I managed to escort myself.

From Yamoussoukro I want to head due east to Ghana, about 200 kilometers to get to
Kumasi. But there?s a hitch. There?s not much of a road system in the eastern part of
Cote d?Ivoire, and I am forced to return to Abidjan. I take a bus and arrive at the Adjame
gare routiere, which is one of the largest public transportation stations in the world.

I arrive in the late afternoon at the Adjame gare routiere, Adjame being one of about a
dozen districts of Abidjan (with a reputation for being more up-market than Treichville
where I last stayed). The guidebook lists a cheap hotel (US $6, bucket shower, fan,
decent restaurant next door), appropriately named Hotel Gare located across from the
UTB bus stand (UTB is one of dozens of bus companies operating out of this gare), which
we passed on our way through the station. The guidebook mentions that the Adjame gare
is immense, perhaps a square kilometer, an area prone to confusion and crime. Quickly
grabbing my luggage away from would-be porters who are fighting over it, I scat away at
double time, at a virtual run from the gare to get to the Hotel Gare. A sigh of relief. The
hotel is located exactly where the guidebook says it would be. On several occasions
during my trip hotels that existed six years ago when the guidebook was published are no
longer in operation. Still I take my chances showing up on hotels? doorsteps rather than
struggling to phone in advance.