Adventures in Sierra Leone: Bintumani

Disclaimer: this post is written by Stephen who has had a more recent introduction to Sierra Leone
After 6 hours of walking, Becca had given up on the car coming to get us. We had spent the previous days navigating through Sierra Leone to get to Mt. Bintumani and were tired from walking in the African sun and humidity. The route to the mountain is not simple. A six hour bus ride from Freetown to Kabala is the first and simplest step. Then the haggling begins. Finding a way to travel the 40 odd miles from Kabala to the village of Sinekuro is first hurdle. Having been here for six months, Becca is a master negotiator, and dove into the task of talking with every motorbike and 4x4 driver in Kabala. After hours (and hours) of searching we finally found a car willing to take us to Sinekuro. Or rather, close to Sinekuro. It turns out that in rainy season the Seki River level rises enough that it is impassable to cars. We were assured by the guide book and by the drivers that our village was only an hour and a half walk from the river. After 4 hours of bouncing down a nasty dirt road we arrived at the river and happily bid our ride goodbye with plans to meet them a few days later back at the river. The 1.5 hour walk from the river ended up being 3.5 hours in full African sun, including a meeting with the chief and elders of a small community we mistakenly took for our destination only to discover it was another hour this time in the rain until we arrived exhausted in Sinekuro where, once again, meeting with the chief and hours of haggling were required to agree on a price for the guide to take us to the mountain.

Once on the mountain we had an amazing time. The hike started in the village farms and thick forest but as we came to our camp the forest opened to lush grass looking more like Scotland than Africa. The air was cool (finally), the views amazing, and it was fun to compare with our last hikes on Mt. Adams in New Hampshire and in Utah. We also got to try some local flavor including an 8am dose of palm wine, which smells like rotten egg, the ubiquitous rice and sauce, and snacks of groundnuts (peanuts). Unfortunately we did not get to try the tortoise.

The route back also proved interesting as we trekked the 7.5 miles back to the river and debated whether or not our drivers would return for us. After crossing the river, we began to get nervous that our diver might have forgotten us. When we arrived at the next village, our fears were confirmed when a woman told us that "The white car come to the river and look for you yesterday. It go home." Our driver had come a day early...

We still don't know what the hell this lady was talking about. After another hour or two of dejected walking we heard the roar of a land cruiser. Our driver had had a flat tire. After filling the car with people and food to sell at the market (including chickens that kept pecking at Becca's feet) we arrived in Kabala and took the next bus to Freetown. Now to celebrate with a nice bottle of champagne that managed to find a way from London to Freetown in my bag!!!