Nigeria - The Lions on the Road: Cycling London to Cape Town - page 155

their contents. The whole process took less time than any other border crossing I have ever
been at…including Canada's!
He took me to meet his fellow guards where I spent the next 30-45 minutes telling
them stories of my trip. However, what really impressed them was that my name was prin-
tedonmyt-shirt.IapologizedforbeingrudebuttoldthemthatitwasgettinglateandIstill
needed to get to Lagos which was 90 kilometres away. As they stood in a semi-circle, they
all said good-bye to me and like their Benin counterparts, wished me a safe trip. Just as I
started to peddle off, the guard I first befriended called out for me to stop. He walked up to
me and asked me if I'd mind giving him my autograph. I obliged and wrote a message to
him and his family. He was beside himself with joy.
It was such a surreal moment. As I left the border, I started to laugh to myself at
what just transpired and replayed the whole sequence of events in my head including all
that useless anxiety from the morning. Welcome to Nigeria!
The roads were excellent and my pace was quick enough that Icovered the 90kilo-
metres to the capital rather quickly. One factor that encouraged me to speed up was the
looming weather that was fast approaching from the rear. I was being chased by thunder-
clouds which eventually caught up to me in the form of a light drizzle…and thankfully no
rain Armageddon this time. I passed through four military checkpoints without really ever
stopping. They just waved me through which got me wondering if the border guard that
I befriended had anything to do with it , i.e ., did he radio ahead? I stopped for a late meal
off the main highway and devoured the packed lunch Father José gave me (I inhaled the
chocolate.) At 2:15 p.m., I arrived in the outskirts of Lagos and by 3:45, I cycled onto the
property of the Canadian High Commission.
My modus operandi in all my previous countries was always to find lodging first
andthentolookfortheembassyorhighcommissiontoregister.However,thistime,forno
reason I could recall, I did the opposite and it was pretty cool what happened next.
I met a security guard at the compound's entrance who informed me that the high
commission closed at 2:00 p.m. I asked him if I could still enter and if so, to point out
where the main building was. He let me through and I cycled up to the front door. Just as
I arrived, a limousine stopped in front of me and out popped a man who asked me if I was
David. Bewildered, I answered yes. He told me that he was expecting me and introduced
himself as Nick Harare, the High Commissioner to Canada. We shook hands as he quickly
askedmehoweverythingwasgoingandtheninquiredifIhadaplacetostay.Itoldhimno
because this was literally my first stop. He then invited me to stay with him and his family
as a guest, if I was interested. Wow.
Instead of giving me directions, he told me to follow the limousine. The chauffeur
drove slowly and waited for me at every major junction so I could catch up. We eventually
arrived at Mr. Harare's official residence which had armed guards outside a formidable
iron gate. Once it was opened, I cycled through and parked my bike against the house. I