01/27/2024 Bikepacking The Ivory Coast Day 172 : Comoé

The Comoé National park is the largest protected area in the Ivory Coast. It is difficult to find information about visiting the park… parks in developing nations generally aren’t like the ones in the US where you have good infrastructure for visiting. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because the idea is to protect the land, flora, and fauna… not necessarily to showcase it. I was not successful in determining how to visit; along the route there are signs saying that it is prohibited to enter. It is OK with me because the photos I’ve seen from the park look like everything else I have been seeing. A few baboons quickly ran in front of me along the road… I’m guessing that if I were to pay $1400 USD for a tour that included the interior of the park, the experience would be roughly the same.

Today’s route was remote, and the constant dust of previous days gave way to constant sand. The sand isn’t as hard on the drivetrain or my lungs, but it does slow the bike more. It was reminiscent of the Baja Divide… but luckily I didn’t have to walk/push my 29” single bike as much the 26” wheeled tandem.

I don’t have any good people stories for you because there were hardly any people! The ones I saw mostly just stared in silence, however if I delivered a big smile and a wave, most people would say, “Bon arrivé!” (Welcome!) That was good, because unlike the previous 6 African nations, Ivory Coast hasn’t really given me the warm fuzzies.

The most prolonged interaction of the day was the Comoé river crossing. One needs to take a boat across. There is a guy with a canoe, and also a barge along a wire that you can hand crank. The man with the canoe wanted me to go with him, but I suggested taking the barge, as it would be simple with the bike. I rode back and forth up the ramp onto the barge to demonstrate how much easier this would be. So, then a guy standing around said that I needed to give him money for the barge. I asked how much, and he wanted the equivalent of $32 USD. He counted on his fingers and I used the French Translation app just to be sure.

And I thought the Golden Gate Bridge was expensive.

I had watched as the family going the other direction had boarded and come across the river. No one exchanged money; the driver of the car cranked the boat. I said, “I’ll pay what they paid.”

He replied, “they work here.”

Of course I have no way of knowing if they really work here, but they had the appearance of a regular family.

We had quite the lengthy discussion. The other guys hanging around just kept laughing at this absurdity.

Time wasting can work both ways, and eventually, a motorcycle had arrived going in my direction. Also, across the river, another motorcycle arrived and was patiently waiting. A reader might think, “come on, they need the money - just give it to them.” There have been certain people along the way who I would happily give this sum to. People who are caring, friendly, or helpful.

People who mock me and provide dis-services are not on my payroll, however.

I asked him why I should pay so much, and he made a pained look on his face and hunched over putting his hand on his back - as to say, “oh, it hurts my back so much”. The others thought his pantomime was quite funny.

I decided to just settle it. I rode up the ramp, and started to crank myself across. I heaved onto the crank and THUD! The wheel locked. This caused the guys hanging around to laugh uproariously. They said, “you don’t know how to work the boat!”

I actually did look pretty stupid, jumping up and down on the crank in my Lycra bike suit.

Then I saw that a wooden block had been placed in the wheel, so I removed that and started to crank. The guys continued laughing, but now they boarded the boat. Meanwhile, the guy waiting across the river called out and they spoke over the water. I didn’t understand what was said. Probably something like, “forget it and leave ‘le blanc’ alone!” (Le blanc is what they often call me here.. “The White”).

I told him I would pay $1.60 USD to get them to stop pestering me for money. Considering no one else was paying anything (including the guy on the motorcycle that I carried across), and that I would be doing the work, this seemed more than fair. Something is better than nothing, so they stopped blocking me and let me go.

One of the guys even helped crank.

The other guys laughed again as I kept my word and paid at the end of the crossing.

Well, I hope this story was as humorous for you as it was for those guys!

**addendum: I don’t especially mind being laughed at. In some ways, if people are overall nice, I don’t mind being the butt of their jokes. You do have to harden yourself to this type of behavior when traveling in developing nations. You’re the uncool outsider, and they are the cool “insiders.” I am the one who chose to come to where they live; they aren’t obligated to welcome me. Many people in many places around the world have greeted me warmly, welcomed me, and even thanked me for visiting their country because they felt that the impression held by the outside world was not correct. (A good example was Colombia where many people thanked us for visiting… and by the way, they wanted us to know: “not all Colombians are drug dealers!”). But there are other individuals who don’t really care about that kind of stuff. So be it.

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