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pellentandlayswingingintheeveningair.JustbeforeIfellasleep,Iprayedthatitwouldn't
rain for Amir when he returned to that mud-filled road.
I had a very loud wake-up call the next morning. Since the mosque was next to the
customs building, the muezzin (crier) was no more than 4 meters from my head and boy
was he loud! I lay in my hammock until 6:30 a.m., and then prepared the bike for depar-
ture. I topped up my water reservoir, filtered some water for immediate consumption and
ate bread and bananas for breakfast. I converted my few remaining CFA coins to the loc-
al currency at a poor rate (2:1 instead of 3½:1.) My prayers were answered in that it did
not rain overnight so that Amir's return journey would be a little easier. I said good-bye to
him with a handshake, and after wishing him a safe journey, I started my first full day in
Guinea.
I immediately noticed many differences between Guinea and Senegal. In Guinea,
the condition of the road was infinitely better especially in regards to the last stretch of the
border. After experiencing that hell, I naively believed, I finally had something to compare
all my future roads with (let me eat my words now because I haven't written about Zaïre
yet). One other difference I noticed was the terrain. The unique beauty of the hilly coun-
tryside was quite captivating especially in the first 40 kilometres. After cresting a hill, I
saw lush greenery with the road as a brown ribbon and small isolated mud huts sporadic-
ally placed on the hill tops. It seemed as if someone just sprinkled seeds from an airplane
and wherever they landed, a brown mud hut would grow. Between these hills there were
numerous rivers and canals that were all spanned by good quality bridges. Another differ-
encewasinthevarietyofsoundsIwashearingmanyofwhichIwascluelessonwhatmade
them. I believed that I had definitely walked into a National Geographic magazine.
I stopped at two police checkpoints en route but the officers were very cordial and
in a matter of minutes I was on my way. I arrived in Koundara by 11:00 a.m. and after re-
gistering with the police, I asked them if there was a Catholic church nearby. The police
kindly escorted me by motorcycle to the church and said good-bye. I intended to visit the
church for a few minutes and would then continue. However, after I met Father Philip in
the church, he invited me to have lunch with him. There, I met two foreign nationals who
both worked together on local agricultural projects. Lydie was from the French non-gov-
ernment organization (NGO) called 'Organization du Progrès' and Bruno was from 'Ser-
vice Nationale du Co-operation Française.'
After lunch, Father Philip escorted me to Lydie's and Bruno's home where I ended
up staying the night. So with a lot of time to kill, I thoroughly cleaned the chain, the rear
wheel, and the gears. By 6:15 p.m., I was done and took everything into my bedroom. Ly-
die and I went to mass at the Catholic mission that was run by three nuns. The mass was
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