'Early Morning Run in... Harare'

First light: 0626 hrs
Time start: 0708 hrs
Time finish: 0743 hrs
Weather: 7C
Humidity: 64%
Altitude: 3,000ft
Circumstances: Thursday morning, downtown Harare

Rather later than planned this morning. This owes a great deal to the fine Zimbabwean hospitality and friendship on display at 'Tin Roof' last evening. I'm certainly not a startled gazelle this morning. Please meet 'Lifeline'. He's my guest runner and guide. In fact, he's not exactly looking too spritely either.

We drive from the cottage in Chisipite to downtown, takes 10 mins. Lifeline is based here in Harare. Early disclaimer. The jokes are mine. The factual errors are his - to any Zimbabwean readers.

First up. President Robert Gabriel Mugabe. Mention him or not? Elephant in the blog? This is a regime, how can I put this, which doesn't take too kindly to 'publishing false news' (aka criticism). Can be a prisonable offense by all accounts. A mildly funny, non-political blog shouldn't be an issue. Right?

So mention him? Of course. Yes. Probably impossible to leave him out. For better or worse, he is Zimbabwe. Top banana for 34 years. July last year saw him begin his seventh term in office. Say what you like about him, and people say plenty, he’s still there. Seen them all off. An enduring political survivor. He won’t be joining us this morning though. I’ve heard he’s fit and trains regularly. It must work. 90 years old this year. Enjoys an old fashioned exercise regime, similar to Roy Hodgson’s, apparently shaped by his 11 years in prison. Mad Bob that is, not Mad Woy.

In 1980 Rhodesia became Zimbabwe. Zimba dza mabwe - Houses of Stone. Zimbabwe was colonised by Cecil John Rhodes in the late 1800s. The country was named Southern Rhodesia after him. More on Cecil when I get to Bulawayo.

I’ve been to Zim several times in the past. Longest was 3 months in 1995, a few shorter visits followed, last one in late 1999. Gap of 15 years. It’s wonderful to be back for this eagerly awaited trip.

Zimbabwe is a staggeringly beautiful country of 12 million people. All countries have history. Zim has in abundance, then some. A somewhat tumultuous past doesn't do the story justice.

We arrive and park at Harare Sports Club, the main cricket ground. Zimbabwe achieved test match status in 1992. They played their first match here against India. The past 22 years of cricket politics could fill a blog by itself. A case could be made the politics of the country and cricket are intertwined. Whatever the facts, Zimbabwe is coming back at test level after a self imposed exile, and they still manage to pull off the odd remarkable result in the one day format of the game. I wish them every success.

The cricket ground is beautifully appointed, sat next to the Harare Golf Club. Looks particularly good this morning with the sun rising up over the main stand. We set off at a gentle pace. This is about the sights, the feel, rather than training. Nothing now will make a difference to Sundays half marathon at Victoria Falls.

Begin heading east on Chancellor Ave. The bright sun takes the chill off this rather brisk morning. Compared to Freetown this is freezing. Many of the locals are dressed ready for the Antarctic. An African thing - there's some crazy headwear about. On the opposite side of the road is the President's residence, next door State House. Well armed guards dotted around the perimeter.

Head south along 7th ave. Traffic is fairly sparse and drives on the left. The business district awakes slowly. Downtown Harare is in good shape, a well organised grid system. Town planning at its best, back in the day. Nice looking park on the left. All roads are treelined.

7th Ave is interspersed with smaller roads and numerous crossroads. Most controlled by working robots (local name for traffic lights). Road names are a mixture of traditional colonists and prominent figures representing the struggle for independence. We cross Herbert Chitepo Ave, Livingstone Ave, Selous Ave, before turning right and heading west on Samola Machel Road. Samola Machel was a Mozambican military commander and leader of FRELIMO. He fought against the Portuguese which later lead to independence in 1975. The charismatic leader became Mozambique's first President. His wife Graca is a remarkable woman. 12 years after Samola's death, in a plane crash, she married Nelson Mandela in 1998. She was the first woman in the world to marry 2 Heads of State. She's still going strong, and the first African woman to become a British dame. This post isn't long enough to give justice to this incredible lady's achievements.

Easy pace this morning. A run where can you chat all the way. There's the 100 years old Meikles Hotel set back to the left, the ubiquitous Nandos on my right. Ah, the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe. The bank is one of many impressive buildings in the downtown core. A few short years ago Zimbabwe officially had more millionaires than any other country. In fact, over 90% of the population was a millionaire. Unfortunately Zimbabwe's inflation was running at 231 million per cent in 2008.

The ban on foreign currency trading was lifted in early 2009. The ship stopped sinking. The US$ became, and remains the main currency. This is often referred to as Dollarisation. The problem is there's no change. No cents. Most prices are thus rounded up. Should change be required it's made up with bubblegum or a few sweets, or sometimes in coins of South African Rand. The local guy who made the gum apparently became a genuine millionaire as a result. Dragons Den would have passed on that one.

Talking of cents. Did you know the gangster rapper '50 Cent', or as they call him in Zimbabwe '$4 million dollars' was the country's favourite artist a few years back.

Whatever and wherever blame can be laid, it would seem Zimbabwe is recovering, or at least things have stopped getting worse. The economy remains under strain and money tight, but it's a million miles away from a failed state many might have you believe.

We dawdle west along Samola Machel, before heading north on Julius Nyerere Way. Some impressive buildings in this area. There's the Tourism Authority, which is a major source of foreign revenue. More on this from the Falls. Ahead is the ruling party's headquarters - Zanu pf. We've also seen impressive churches - 85% of Zimbabweans are Christian.

On the left is Harare Gardens, close to the Crowne Plaza Hotel. Plenty of greenery in the city. Head east now 4th Ave, before turning north for home. Back to the cricket ground. We walk on the pitch through an open gate for photos. Excellent run and just what the doctor ordered after last nights shenanigans.

Back in the vehicle. Decide to head to the 'Wild Geese' restaurant for breakfast. I know, what a life. 30 mins drive. A beautiful place in the most delightful grounds. Set-up a few years ago by the author of 'The Wild Geese'. Book became a second rate hammy late 70's mercenary movie full of wooden acting held together with a preposterous plot. One of those movies so bad that some consider it good. Even has something of a cult following. The signed photos on the wall evidence the good time the actors had making it - Richard Burton, Richard Harris, Roger Moore and others. They tried a remake in 2004. Another ridiculous script, 'The Wonga Plot'. This time an old Etonian, together with some South Africans, stop in Harare to buy weapons to overthrow a West African government for oil. Should have called have called it 'Wild Geese 2', perhaps why it ended so disastrously.

To Victoria Falls tomorrow...half marathon Sunday, Bulawayo Monday / Tuesday. 2 new posts coming up. JoBurg at the end of the week before returning to Freetown. See you all again real soon...

Photos and other bits on Twitter: @roadrunnertns

'Early Morning Run in... Dakar'

First light: 0640 hrs
Time start: 0615 hrs
Time finish: 0651 hrs
Weather: 22C
Humidity: 73%
Circumstances: Saturday morning, early in Dakar

Senegal. First time visit. A 75 minute flight north from Freetown. A world apart. Like coming to Paris, relatively speaking. Two things to quickly clear up...

First, one of my favourite lines when seeing someone extravagantly attired is, 'dressed like a Senegalese lottery winner'. You may remember an earlier post referencing my divas. Friday in Freetown is African Day. Means national dress. Essentially outfits complete with volume control. Eagle, aka Baldylocks, came in last Friday dressed as a strawberry cornetto. Here in Dakar everyday is Africa Day. People dress loud, proud,and bright. They look good.

Second, the world famous Paris-Dakar Rally? It no longer finishes in Dakar. Hasn't since being cancelled in 2008, due to security issues in neighbouring Mauritania. From 2009 the rally has been held in South America. The Paris-Santiago Rally doesn't sound right? Although 6 years since finishing in Dakar many local drivers are still auditioning. Including my local taxi driver, Tala. Scares the living daylights out of me every morning, afternoon and evening. We zig-zag through Dakar's streets listening to Edith Piaf CDs (Edith, the original French diva - SL divas, take note. Non je ne regrette rien). Tala's working hard on my French. I'd prefer him concentrating hard on the road. He tells me each morning, tapping his chest, he's a wolf. Certainly has me howling on occasions. In fact, he's a Wolof - largest tribe in Senegal. He's proud.

He mentioned yesterday he had 3 wives. I replied I've only one. More than ample. He was amused to hear that in Yemen you can say three times, "I divorce thee"; that's it, you're done and dusted. Moving swiftly along, time and tide...

Tremendous climate here. Wonderful breeze. Cooler than Freetown with less humidity. No rain. I depart Ibis Hotel heading east. Into the rising African sun. Never fails to lift the spirits. Streets are deserted. The impressive Central Bank of West Africa on my right. The French Embassy behind. Jog down to the Corniche Est. Turn right and head south. Port and docks to my left side. A sea of cranes, warehouses, containers and flatbed lorries. Drivers beginning to stir and huddle together. One shouts, 'C'est Bon'. I'm running this morning at Africa's most westerly point.

The corniche. An elevated road. Atlantic Ocean down below, drop of about 30 metres. Isn't it one of life's simple pleasures, running along a coastline? Still gets me every time. Some nice looking restaurants and hotels in this area. Lagon Un (Twitter for photos: @roadrunnertns) is a unique bar & restaurant. Definitely worth a visit. Several other joggers this morning. Some expats. Some Senegalese. A few local coffee trolleys opening, people out collecting fresh bread. Funny how some French legacies endure. Few motorbikes here. Mostly scooters. The French thing...

...reminds me. There were 2 cats. An English cat; named one-two-three. A French cat; he was called un-deux-trois. They decided to race across a canal. Naturally the English cat, one-two-three came first. The French cat, un-deux-trois, ...quatre cinq. Couldn't get through without a French joke.

Extremely pleasant running along the corniche. Slightly undulating, a few climbs to push up and over. Small coves below. Some rocky, some sandy. Senegal is light years ahead of Sierra Leone in development terms. Stability being a key factor. There have been over 45 successful putsches and unconstitutional changes of government in the 15 member states of ECOWAS since 1960. Sierra Leone is near the top of this league. Only Senegal, and one other country, have been spared this experience in the region. Bonus point for the other.

Nearly 20 mins done. Time to cut off the corniche. I head north up into the Embassy sector. Avenue Pasteur. British Embassy to my right. Next door the Ambassador's residence. Looks a nice set-up.
Lovely tree-lined boulevards. Henry, you've complained you've never received a namecheck. Well, you're in. Navigating these pavements with the trees and roots playing havoc reminds me of pushing you around Florence in a push-chair. You were cute and had Italian ladies kissing your feet and making a fuss of you. Ha, nobody would want to go near your pieds these days.

Head into a large roundabout. Nice buildings all round. The National Assembly. The African Art Museum. Take a right exit onto Rue Mandela. Tree lined again. All the way along to the main hospital in Dakar. L'Hopital Principal. Close by is the city morgue. I'm now in the dead centre of Dakar.

North, onto the most prestige road in the city. Avenue Leopold Senghor. The first president at independence in 1960. He ruled for 20 years. Known as the founding father of Senegal he lived until he was 95 years old. This before the modern trend where African Presidents knock a few years off and magically become younger. Senegal has recent experience of this. African footballers is another prime area for age reduction. This is a spectacular road. The beautifully appointed Presidential Palace on my right complete with ceremonial guards outside the gates. Pick up the pace now. In the distance I can start to see Place De L'Independence.

The centre point of old Dakar. Faded glory, but I can imagine this square back in the day. Must be nearly 300 m long in the shape of a large oblong. I do 2 laps taking in the early morning beat as the city awakes. Taxis everywhere. Nut sellers setting up. Newspapers being pegged up in the battered kiosks. People in local kaftans and red fezes. Could be a Tommy Cooper convention. Big international brands dominate the skyline - banks, insurance companies, airlines. There's the Pullman Hotel. Looks inviting. Was the Sofitel. One more lap and head out of the square east along Avenue Hassan II back to the Ibis.

As I warm down I reflect fondly on my time in Senegal (5 days). A city of contrasts. Brand new roads, expensive 4x4 vehicles, bridges, tunnels, shopping centres, sky scrapers, hotels, cranes, construction...then a horse and cart appears, some sheep run across the road. Plenty of shanty and poverty mixed in too, as you leave the centre. The result a compelling mix of modern and traditional. Although overwhelmingly (95%) Islamic few Senegalese women are veiled. This seems a comfortable country, one at ease, at least on first impressions.

Vous revoir bientot.

Other one for the bonus... Cape Verde.

'Early Morning Run in... Makeni, Sierra Leone'

Makeni, Sierra Leone

First light: 0650 hrs
Time start: 0635 hrs
Time finish: 0717 hrs
Weather: 25C
Humidity: 95%
Circumstances: Tuesday morning in the Northern Provinces

This was meant to be Colombia Part 2 - will be next up. Instead...

... a guest runner this morning. Not any old guest runner. An ex Royal Marine. 34 years service. Falklands vet. MBE. His call sign? Pivot 16-64. Pivot? Long story. 1664? Two things happened during this momentous year. Of significance, the Kronenbourg Brewery was founded in 1664 by Geronimus Hat in Strasbourg. Oh, and the Royal Marines modest history can be traced back to the same year. You'd probably like to hear more about Geronimus?

In the words of Eleanor Roosevelt, First Lady of the United States, in 1945, who said, "Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen." Pivot 16-64, I welcome you.

Today we're in Makeni. Fourth largest town in Sierra Leone. Largest town and economic centre of the Northern Province. The President is from Makeni. My first time here. We're 140 kms east of Freetown.

The Wusum Hotel. Our base. 0615 hrs. Already hot. Humidity right up there. A beautiful morning for a run in Africa. Pivot 1664 joins me. Hmmm, looks like he's carrying a bit of timber. This should be comfortable. Head away from the What's-up Hotel as I've taken to calling it. Teko Road heading north. This is a fast pace. Won't last. Will it? Come back Escargot - Post 7...

Roads in Makeni are in excellent shape. A prosperous town by Sierra Leone standards. Prosperous is relative, but this town is moving in the right direction. As well as roads, there's electricity pylons and radio masts. Lots of people on the move. The difference, they are moving with purpose. There are a number of huge mining operations nearby. Addax (bio fuels) alone employs nearly 3,000 people. The mining sector is helping drive the economic recovery of this poor West African country. Communities close to projects should become relative boom areas. Employment and services must go into local communities. The single biggest failing in the Niger Delta. Lessons must be learnt.

To the first roundabout. One mile. Head west to the big radio mast. Pace is still quick. Forget the added timber. Pivot can cover the ground. This isn't comfortable. Why don't I say something. It's an Army thing. Just can't. Suck it up...

Groups of young men walking and standing in groups. Mostly dressed in coveralls which designate where they work. All clutching or wearing ubiquitous brightly coloured safety helmets. Vans, trucks, buses pick-up the workers. The mood is good. All people ever really want is a job.

Okada's (bike taxi's) everywhere at this early hour. Our third colleague (JW) is tucked up in bed. He's the sensible one. Okada's outnumber vehicles by about 10 to 1. A funny van parked to our right. 'Mr. Key'. A battered van with an outsize key on top. About 1,000 words written on the van. A mobile website.

Ironically Pivot 1664 asks how I remember everything for the blog. How do I visualise it? I pant rapidly, I usually jog slowly to take it all in. Pace picks up. This is a blur. Was there a van...

Down a dip back heading north up to the main Magburakah Highway. Two miles in. Weather and pace hot. Over to our left the quite striking Mena Hills. Makeni tucks nicely into this backdrop.

Roadsweepers are also out in force before first light. The cleanest streets I've seen in Sierra Leone. At least 50 people in coveralls and high vis vests sweeping the streets. Some are digging out storm drains. Excellent. Local government functioning well. Money coming into this town.

We make it up the hill to the towns largest radio mast. Now on the main road. Turn east. No breeze. It's hot. Two days ago the first big rain of the year. Yesterday was wonderful. Clean air. It was cool. Unfortunately today back to normal. The first big rain? Lets you know the rains are coming. Next month. Heading back towards the centre of town.

As it gets lighter children are also on the move. I hear the common term for 'white man' in the north. The kids love shouting it out. I always smile and wave when I hear it. Aporto, aporto....aporto...I'm hearing it a lot now...

Also hearing plenty of call to prayer as first light comes. A good healthy mix of mosques and some nice looking churches. Haven't heard as much call to prayer in the other parts of the country I've been in.

Oh, oh. We're still going a good clip. Run straight past the turning back into Makeni. Now need a right turn somewhere. It's not happening. We reluctantly turn and head back East. Over 3 miles done. Aporto...aporto...

Into the town centre and the recently constructed clock tower. The centre piece. Pleased to see this reference point. I know it's just over a mile back to the Whats-up Hotel. Pace steadies. Pivot feeling this now. Thankfully. Where's Escargot when you need him.

Put in a Marine joke? People (Charlie M) will be expecting one. OK, reluctantly...

Dear Jane,

I have a problem. I have two brothers. One brother is a serving Royal Marine in the Navy, the other is serving life for a gruesome multiple murder. My mother died from insanity caused by syphilis when I was three years old. My sisters are prostitutes. My father is a drug dealer. Recently I met a girl with tasteful tattoos released from prison. I want to marry her. My problem. If I marry this girl, should I tell her about my brother who is a Marine?

Yours,
Concerned

A steady pace back to the hotel. Good to see those iron gates. Just under 43 mins. Warm down outside the hotel. I haven't run this fast in years. Turns out Pivot was feeling it just as much. Neither said anything. Some things never change.

Ha, I look over and see a functioning GT Bank cash point machine. A rarity. Johnny Admin story for you. In 2011 we were together in SL for the first time. Conducting an infra-structure assessment. We found an ATM in the centre of Freetown. A crowded noisy street. Let's see if we can actually draw cash on a credit card. He looks at me. I look at him. RHIP. Rank Has Its Privileges. He reluctantly, after a few 'get on with it', puts his card in. The loudest machine I've ever heard said, 'PLEASE INSERT YOUR SECRET PIN NUMBER'. JA was trying to tell the ATM to shush down. The street came to a standstill. The bedlam and background noise seemed to freeze. Was this ginger aporto really going to use this machine. People crowded to watch the entertainment. Flustered, he used the wrong pin. 'PLEASE INSERT YOUR SECRET PIN NUMBER' came the loud response. The locals thought this was hilarious. The crowd grew. After plenty of messing about he managed to obtain $100 in local currency. That's great, a $100 for you, what about me? We were there a while...strangest ATM I've ever seen...

Thoroughly enjoyed this run and your company Pivot 1664. Makeni has been a tremendous experience. Great team on this job. It's back to Freetown tomorrow after 5 days away. Divas look busy, get off your mobile phones...

Colombia Part 2 coming next...

'Early Morning Run in...Lumley Beach, Freetown'

Last light: 1902 hrs
Time start: 1630 hrs
Time finish: 1710 hrs
Weather: 29C
Circumstances: Saturday, late afternoon beach run

Something different today. Not many capitals have a beach. Freetown has. Lumley Beach. Comes to life late afternoon, early evening.

Start point opposite Family Kingdom Hotel. Aberdeen end of Lumley. Atlantic Ocean on my right. Running towards the mountains. Heading south on firm sand. Low tide. Great expanse of beach to run on. Head into a slight breeze, should be faster coming back.

Nearly had a guest runner this afternoon. Young glamorous Sierra Leonean lawyer. Ayo. She'll be a future guest. Hoping for today. Wanted to use the line, 'Ayo, Ayo, off to the beach we go.....'. I'll save for when she guests.

'O's. Glance across the estuary to the other side of peninsular. Lungi. Funny times there late 2012. Hotel was badly managed by a lunatic Portuguese fellow. Basil Fawlty from Lisbon. Emotional. Temperamental. Theatrical. Chain smoking. Expresso drinking. Funny. I give you, Riccardo.

He absconded Freetown early 2013 taking the family silver. Left behind massive debt. Loans taken from local banks, fraudulently using the hotel as security. He invested mainly in poultry. His businesses did extremely well. Disappeared to Brazil for an operation. Never came back. Despite the alleged embezzlement, a character.

I booked 25 rooms for 3 months. Hotel was a dump. Only option. BMI (old British Midland) had 6 permanent rooms for aircrew. British Airways bought BMI end 2012. Great news. We now had BA to London. However, can you imagine BA middle aged divas, some of whom flew with the Wright Brothers, staying at Riccardo's? Nor me. Apparently they took one look, that was that. No aircrew in Freetown. BA currently overnight in Monrovia. Need to toughen up.

Busy this afternoon. Football matches all along the beach. Plenty of joggers and walkers. Quick stretch at the wall. Smell of urine is strong. No public toilets in Freetown. People, mostly men, go where and when they want. Certainly not shy about getting their choppers out. Rubbish everywhere. Pity. This could be a beautiful beach. It is a beautiful beach. Just needs cleaning. No rubbish bins. There's needles, medical waste, all sorts. Can't pretend it's not there.

Not a patch on beaches along the peninsular - see Post 3. It's an urban beach. In Freetown we all love this beach. Part of the heartbeat. Has everything. People watching. Running. Festivals. Football. Night life. Fishing. Parties. Weddings. Beach bars.

This post will be written, aided by a few sundowners, in one of the bars. In fact, there's my writing spot. Bistro Bar. Along from Bistro, comes O Bar. Probably Freetown's number 1 beach bar.

Enjoying this run. Running right at the oceans edge. Only place I listen to music. Too risky in the urban sprawl. There you need every sense you have, plus additional ones. Here I relax. The beach playlist? Starts with 2 live Sam Cooke songs to warm up. I'm sweating lightly. 10 mins in. Run past Roy's, one of the most popular bars.

It's a crescent shaped beach. A rocky outcrop each end completes the effect. Probably 4 kms long. It's out and back today. Shirt off, capture those rays. UK for Easter. Soon be mixing with Whitey's from Blighty. Elvis Presley, 'Suspicious Minds'...pick up the pace...

Still chuckling about Riccardo. He's probably smiling on a beach somewhere in Brazil with expresso and a cigarette. I recall the bizarre conversations.

"Hey Marco, no problemo. I deal only with you & Bernardo."

"Thanks Riccardo."

"An expresso?" "This machine from Portugal, good expresso."

"Thanks Riccardo."

"Hey Marco, in dise hotel, my golden rule, then no problemo?"

Waited with baited breath. What could it possibly be in this fleapito.

"Marco, only one rule. No prostitutes. Privado."

"Hey Marco, another expresso?"

"Obrigado."

By the way, my name is Mark. Oh, and that's a whole lot of 'O's. Ayo, you should've come today. In fact, more 'O's than the average conversation in Calgary.

Swerve up the beach around the fishermen. 10 guys either side of the nets hauling in. Forming a large U shape. There's rhythm to their work. The fellow at the front sounds the beat to match the tide. Second catch of the day. Young boy at the end of the chain neatly coils the rope. I pause... take a couple of photos. Higher up the beach, near the road, is a local fish market. Exclusively women and children. Preparing for the catch to come in. There is a strong smell of fish. Better than urine.

Away from Aberdeen the beach is looking better. Palm trees on my left. Less rubbish. Actually looking cleaner. I run this beach a lot, normally at first light. Today I'm noticing more. Have a blog to write.

More beach bars. Some look good. Some don't. Past 'King David'. Past 'Q Bar'. Even with the camber I can still see over the road. Hotels. Most I wouldn't put my Mother-in-Law in. Hang on, hasty, let me think about that...

Arrive turnaround point. Atlantic Bar. A long established beach watering hole. Move up to the soft sand under the palm trees, head back north. A wonderful view up the mountains. Across the road Freetown Golf Club. I don't play golf. Don't know much about golf. Despite this I'm family champion at the Keswick crazy golf course. Absolutely wiped the floor with my daughter last time out. She struggled with the big clubs. What can you do when you're 7?

Run back down to waters edge. Wedding party ahead. The Bride looks resplendent in white. Bridesmaids in purple. Family group of about 40 posing for photos. Some are taking donkey rides. Some struggling with the sand in high heels. Women love heels in SL, especially my divas, sand won't hinder them. This young wedding party warms the heart.

I've talked of smells. Sounds are distinct too. Every bar has speakers the size of my divas handbags. Although I'm on track 6, Bruce Springsteen (Born to Run) the steady Afro beat overpowers my headphones. Forget them. Lets run to the beat. Urban beach, it's naturally noisy.

Sun is getting lower. On the horizon ships at anchor waiting for iron ore from upcountry. China bound. Mining revenues provide about 12.5% to GDP. Projected 20% by 2020. Huge impact on this poor country.

My finish point ahead. Hope you've enjoyed this run. Time to warm down. Head phones back in. Ah, there it is. Mr Phil. 'Another Day In Paradise'. Certainly was. Sundowner time...

Before I go...

The mandatory lawyer joke. From 'Disorder in the American Courts', things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters. My thanks to Agnatha.

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No .
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

P.S. I've received emails concerning Escargot. He struggled on the run in Sean Conakry. He's fine now. Currently on a much needed fitness drive in Freetown.

P.P.S. BA - you're the best airline in the world. Want to upgrade me next Sunday? I'm ready, willing, and able.

'Early Morning Run in... Conakry'

First light: 0657 hrs
Time start: 0642 hrs
Time finish: 0724 hrs
Weather: 24C
Circumstances: Friday, slowest business day of working week

Post number 7 in the 'An Early Morning Run In...' blog series. Yesterday travelled Freetown to Conakry. 314 kms by road. A journey of 6.5 hours.

A few other numbers;

- checkpoints to negotiate crossing border: 7

- dash (bribes) requested: 7

- cars driving wrong side of main carriageway into Conakry: 48

- car accidents involved in first hour Conakry: 2

- traffic lights working Conakry: 1

A country where I'm older than the average male life expectancy. But, below female. Just.

Many enquired about the recent fire engine wahala. It was repaired. Arrived Freetown on schedule. Sierra Leone apparently deployed its equivalent of the Green Goddess (UK 1950's auxiliary fire engine painted green). Could well have been 2 fellows with a ladder and 2 metal buckets. Painted red, British Army style with 'FIRE' stenciled on the side.

First deployment as a young private soldier 1977 was Edinburgh during the fireman's strike. I was in the Duke of Edinburgh's Royal Regiment. We were sent north to rescue cats from trees and run over them in the Green Goddess on the way back to barracks.

My recent excursion to London (post 5) was working with lawyers. A funny story came to mind from 2005. After spending a busy month in Nairobi, with a group of mostly North American lawyers, there was downtime at the end. We ventured upcountry. Aberdare National Park. We stayed at 'The Ark'.

At The Ark two people a room. The lead lawyer (Lawyer X), my  Canadian roomy, asked what I was doing. My leatherman was out disconnecting the buzzer. Each room had a sign. The buzzer rang once if water buffalo came to the watering hole, twice for elephant, and so on. Big one was 5 rings. A lion. I told Lawyer X we needed a good nights sleep. I'd seen plenty of wildlife in its natural environment. He was disappointed. Understandable really. One time opportunity. Following 10 seconds consideration I finished disconnecting the buzzer.

Lawyers worry about everything. They love to have stuff to worry about. It's their DNA. Earlier Lawyer X expressed concerns about malaria profolaxis. I told Lawyer X not to worry. Nairobbery is 5,500 ft above sea level. Had he seen mosquitos wearing oxygen masks? No, of course not. Another (Lawyer Y) had worries about worms. Should he wear a shower cap in Kenya? Lawyer Y was bald as a Greek monk.

I informed Lawyer X he should sit outside on the decking observing the watering hole. Salted to attract wildlife. The Ark provided chairs, blankets and served soup. Artificial I know. Surely not bad as sleeping and a buzzer sounds, you charge out to see Larry Lion or Eddie Elephant. Lawyer X reluctantly trooped upstairs with his blanket. I reminded him not to wake me on return.

Two weeks later skiing together in the Rockies. Lawyer X began to tire struggling through the afternoon. Going downhill fast, excuse the pun. Lawyer X is fit. He arrived home feeling worse. He was hospitalised. He had malaria. Big time. Lawyer X was convinced my fault. Typical lawyers. Always quick to apportion blame. Firmly believed he was bitten the night on the decking because someone disconnected the buzzer. He went further. Again jumping to conclusions, he blamed me for stating Nairobi was so high above sea level, that precautions for Africa's biggest killer were not necessary. Oxygen masks. It all came out. Lawyers eh? Always something to worry about... Oh, if you're worried about Lawyer Y, don't be. He wore a purple polka dot shower cap. No worms. His polished dome remained intact.

Time to run. Feeling good this morning. This is Guinea. Not to be confused with Guinea-Bissau, Equatorial Guinea, or Papua New Guinea. Formerly known as French Guinea. That's a lot of Guinea's. Independence from France 1958. Guinea is approx the land size of UK. Population 10 million. Conakry 1.5 million.

My schoolboy French is getting an airing. Put a French joke in? Bien Sur. Difference between a smart fragrant Frenchman and a unicorn? We all know the answer to this one. Nothing, both fictional characters.

Today I have a special guest runner. A friend (not when he's read this). A Canadian. Codename Escargot. 0620 hrs. We meet outside Residence Schaka. Excellent guest house. Highly recommended. Thanks to Kai & Hawa for taking great care of us. Start stretching. Warming up. Mosquito's everywhere. YB (local Guinean driver) picks up as arranged. Short drive to the start point. 15 mins. Traffic heavy.

Not every run starts next to a life size statue of a grey elephant. Especially with a foot raised on a football. It's still dark. It's hazy. Smog. Busy streets. Headlights still on. Opposite is a Presidential Lodge. Belle-Vue Roundabout.

On left the Sierra Leone Embassy. Nice to see it, warm memories of 'home'. Outside a bus marked Freetown. Goes twice a week for about $20. Takes a day. All you backpackers wanting to explore real Africa on a budget? It can be done. Brace yourself for the border experience. Learn negotiating skills for life.

Conakry is stretched out. People get to work early. Might be due to the fact this is 'Protest City'. In Guinea people protest about anything and everything. They protest in Conakry most days. Many protests morph into riots. Way of life. Book a fortnights holiday here, you won't be disappointed if riots are your thing. Could be about power cuts. In fact, mostly power cuts. Could be water shortages. Could be price increases to staples (rice etc). Could be students. Could be political. Could be anything. People here have plenty of spirit and don't accept status quo. However, a serious point. Around 60 people killed in these protests since the country's first ever democratic elections in 2011. Alpha Conde became the first elected President.

Arrive at a meeting in Freetown late, you smile and say traffic. Here, smile and say protests. If none that day, smile and say traffic.

Escargot and I set off a brisk pace. We head north on Prince Highway. On left Rio Tinto office. A huge mining company. Largest sector in the country. Another country rich in natural resources, but overwhelmingly poor. Rio Tinto has been in-country 16 years spending a fortune. They await return on investment.

Mosques aplenty in this predominantly Islamic country (85%). Some good looking churches too. Secular. No issues.

10 minutes in. Going to be great run. Can feel it. Escargot must have wind. Or something. I catch the guy ahead. His name is Ali. Speak some schoolboy French. We jog side by side for 10 minutes uttering the odd bonjour & ca va. He points to the floodlights ahead at the National Stadium. Beckons to follow him. Escargot must have a stitch. Shout back to follow.

Circle the National stadium where the Elephants play. Plenty of pitches (one astroturf with floodlights), about 100 young players playing, being coached. Just notice Escargot has come out this morning dressed as a footballer. Ali peels off. Say our au reviors. Circle the playing fields. These kids are talented.

Smog. It's bad. Takes a while to notice the main cause is amount of fires in the streets. People are burning rubbish. Conakry is the dirtiest city I've visited. Rubbish and filth everywhere. Must be an issue with garbage collection. Maybe Escargot is suffering with the smog. Whatever, he's going backwards faster than a French tank commander.

After a detour time to head back south. Back to YB. Push all the way back. YB has water. 42 mins. Where's Escargot? He'll be fine...

Guinea is a tough place. It's difficult. Have a feeling Guinea will grow on me. Guinea has character. Guinea has spirit. Like it. People are friendly and open. Great bread. Decent coffee. Good restaurants. French wine. All in all, as with most places - some good things, some bad.

Bon journee. No new posts for a while. Maybe photos added to existing posts. Thinking of outtakes / extras - things left out over various posts.

In closing, I'd like to dedicate this to my Auntie Violet. She was a roofer. Raise your glasses. Auntie V, .... if you're up there...

P.S. To my one French friend in the world - of course, only joking...

P.P.S. I need to find Escargot

'Early Morning Run in... Hesket Newmarket'

First light: 0640 hrs
Time start: 0635 hrs
Time finish: 0710 hrs
Weather: 1C
Circumstances: Another day in the country

Final morning in England before returning to West Africa. Following London a few days home in the Lakes. The Lake District is a national park in northwest England. About 3 and half hours north of London by train. About 4 days by camel.

Returning to Freetown tomorrow is currently uncertain. International airlines, including BA, have suspended flights to and from Sierra Leone. A United Nations aviation regulator discovered the only functioning fire engine at Lungi Airport had broken down. It's not completely without hope, the Sierra Leone Airports Authority has said, "We are working very hard to fix the faulty gearbox system of the fire engine." Seems reasonable.

Early morning run. The Hesket Newmarket to Caldbeck circuit. Hesket is a small village at the base of the Northern Fells. Village population following a recent passing is down to 249. Also known as God's Waiting Room. Average age 77.

My African friends. What would you make of this sleepy Cumbrian village? Well...everyone is ancient. People move slower. Little urgency. You'll be called 'Love' or 'Pet'. No one uses their vehicle horns. No background noise. Most people have facial hair, even some of the men. Weather is harsh, particularly the winters. Everyone has a caravan, or wants one. The similarity between blizzards and northerners going through divorce? In either case, you know someone is going to lose a caravan.

To my own family down south please remember when you next venture north. "He were a southern bugger" is a legal defence up here.

Another similarity with West Africa. Don't ask anyone for directions, particularly if they smell of manure, carrying a stick or wearing wellington boots. As on the streets of Freetown or Accra be prepared for a 20 minute conversation. Oop north it's an advantage to know the main reference points. Such as, key piles of rubble, bingo halls, sale & auction rooms, coal mines, chip shops, and where factories used to stand.

The jokes. What would the locals say if they read this post? I'm on safe ground here. No-one has mastered the Interweb yet. Anyway, I can't help it, my dad was a clown. He's left me big boots to fill...

The internet and mobile coverage isn't good in this part of Cumbria. A little like Freetown. However, NPA is good. In Sierra Leone NPA - means 'National Power Authority'. Alternatively, 'No Power Anymore', as some might put it.

Time and tide wait for no man. An overnight frost greets me. It's chilly. Let's start running. Head east through Hesket. On my right the village Chapel. Full every week with singing on par with the sounds of Freetown on a Sunday morning. However, less clapping, less hip action.

On my left the village Inn. The Old Crown. The first public house in the country owned by a co-operative. It's owned by over 100 local people and other supporters. A proper pub with real ales. Good morning Stephen & Beverley.

Hesket is in a bowl, much like Freetown. To leave the village you move uphill in any direction. I'm climbing east towards Caldbeck. 10 minutes I haven't seen a soul. With an average age pushing 80 hardly a surprise. A beautiful crisp morning. The lambing season has begun, first lambs in the fields both sides of the lane.

Ah, the first sign of life, a 50 year old Land Rover comes slowly towards me. I receive the customary Cumbrian one finger salute. Not to be confused with other versions in London or New York. Index finger only leaves the steering wheel. A sign meaning everything, including recognition.

Old Land Rovers. My mind goes back. Memories on exercise in Africa during the mid 90's. Local soldiers were taught traditional British Army voice procedure. Every clipped message on the radio ends with 'over'. Allows the other person to speak (currently teaching Mrs R. these trusted methods). One funny message went;

Hello Charlie 1, this is Bravo 1. Message. Over.

Charlie 1. Send. Over.

Bravo 1. I have accident. Over.

Charlie 1. Send details. Over.

Bravo 1. I have rolled the Land Rover over. Over.

Charlie 1 (laughing). Say again. Over.

On it went.

Over the climb a pleasant drop into Caldbeck. Past the turning to Chris Bonnington's house. A local celebrity for his climbing exploits. Into Caldbeck, another picturesque Cumbrian village. Very quiet this morning. I climb out of the village and bear left around the pond. Avoid a few ducks, some sheep poo, some cow poo, and head back towards the centre of village. A few vehicles and dog walkers in evidence. Another countryside day begins in earnest.

Right. 2 miles back to Hesket on the main road. Not exactly a startled gazelle this morning, but not too bad. Head into the sun. Push all the way back. Poo everywhere. I'm a townie at heart.

Strong finish. Back into Hesket. Past the village shop on my right. Good morning Liz, Andy & Diane. Keep up the good work. A gentle warm-down back to the house. 35 minutes. Fairly good.

First 4 runs on this blog were in Africa. The last 2 in UK as a contrast. Back to Africa. The next one scheduled for Conakry, Guinea. I wonder if the fire engine is fixed?

'Early Morning Run in... London'

First light: 0642 hrs
Time start: 0558 hrs
Time finish: 0632 hrs
Weather: 4C (ouch)
Circumstances: Monday morning, business day

This week the old switcheroo. Change Africa for Europe. The 5th in the 'Early Morning Run In...' series. Complete contrast.

I've used quotes to open previous posts. Confucius this time, "Every journey of a thousand miles begins with... some fat cabbie (his name was Sid) moaning about the economy." My experience last evening in Central London...

Feels good back in the cold air of London. Ten days special treats before heading back to West Africa. Fresh milk with my cereal. Morning newspapers. John Lewis. No mosquitoes. No net. A cool room. Fast Internet. Electricity. No generator. Pret A Manger. Not being surrounded by life insecurity. Ah, and a good nights rest. In fact, I aim to sleep soundly, just like my security guard back in Freetown.

You have to miss it. An old sage in Africa once told me, write down everything you think unusual when you first arrive. In 6 months time, it will seem completely normal. Taking breakfast in Khartoum one day, an obese driller told how the previous evening a small plane was landing the wrong way at the airport. The Lufthansa Airbus had to abort the landing, pull up, and fly over the top of the other plane. No one batted an eyelid. "Pass the sugar", was about it.

What will I miss? Fish. Beach. Sun. The people of Sierra Leone. Misfits. My SL divas. I always miss my divas. They're divas right down to their high heels, power handbags and sense of entitlement (in a nice way). As they read this, they'll be mortified. Divas - I warned you. One is hairless, West African style. In fact, bald as a badgers bum. This is Senior Diva. Codename 'Eagle'. Young, or Baby Diva, with a new hairstyle every week and sporting handbags the size of a 2 berth caravan, is climbing the Freetown 'Divadom' chart at a healthy pace. Codename 'Cobra'. Divas, stop reading this blog, off your cell phones and on with some work. We have a business to build.

It's funny. When one is in West Africa, you yearn for home. Paradoxically when the time comes to return (in 9 days time), one embraces it. What Africa gives you more than any single thing? Appreciation. Appreciation, not taking things for granted. Appreciation, small things. Appreciation, how lucky you are. Oh, and that Marvel skimmed milk powder will never replace Daisy the Cow.

I should point out I've mostly African gear with me. This doesn't mean I stroll around London dressed like a Senegalese lottery winner. It means old clothes that have been battered, look OK in Africa, but in London... This trip was hasty and unexpected.

African clothing. I wanted to write to Rohan a few years ago. A terrific UK brand. They had trousers advertised as unshrinkable. They were indestructible. You could do anything to these trousers. Rohan hadn't figured in my Sudanese maid. She turned them into a fashion statement. One embraced by most northern Brit holidaymakers every time they venture abroad, or to the local off license to pick-up a pack of Woodbines on a winters evening.

I realise how bad 'maid' reads. I worked for an oil company in Sudan at the time. Not only a maid, but a driver, gardener, cook, and cleaner. In the interests of fairness, I have all these positions in the UK. It's just that Mrs R. doesn't like it when I call her these things. Oh, and the cleaner in Khartoum. We called her the Special Forces of cleaners. Never knew if she'd been in the apartment or not.

Time and tide wait for no man. Let's start running. The distinctive sound of Big Ben. The start point is outside my hotel. Westminster Bridge. The London Eye lit up to my right. Over the Bridge past the Houses of Parliament on my left. After the misery of humidity in Accra, I now have the spring of a startled gazelle.

London is a beautiful city. In my view the best in the world. I see some appropriately dressed joggers. Thin gloves, thermal layers, running tights, fluorescent tops, hats (toques for the Canadian readership), headphones. Don't see anyone with dirty sand coloured trainers, shorts, 2 short sleeved T-shirts and a polo shirt with an upturned collar. It's a little chilly.

No entertainment. Don't need distractions this morning. Passed Number 10 on my left - all the way to Nelson's Column. Veer left. What a city. What better than running down the Mall. It's inspiring and as if by magic my pace lifts. What's even faster than a startled gazelle? Three-quarters down the Mall Buckingham Palace is coming into view. I come up behind 2 joggers wearing three-quarter length trousers from Rohan, white shoes, with black and white striped football shirts. Sounds like they're from oop north. They're smoking Woodbines. I didn't really come up behind 2 such joggers. Made that bit up.

Left at the Palace. Past Wellington Barracks. Stayed there a few times. Horsferry Road down to the River Thames. Over Lambeth Bridge and follow the river back to the London Eye. Feeling splendid. What's even faster than something quicker than a startled gazelle? Johnny Admin...eat your heart out. Past the Eye up to Greyfriars Bridge at a pretty good lick. The turnaround point. Jog back to Westminster Bridge to warm down. Into Starbucks for a takeaway coffee behind the old GLC building. Phil Collins (Mr Phil - an African icon) on the piped music. Actually, it was Ray Charles 'I Can't Stop Loving You' - been humming it all day. That was followed by Frankie Valli...

Reading the newspapers this morning took me back to Sudan. To an oil compound in Rubkona. I used to stay there. The Camp Manager was a huge fellow. A huge man with a huge heart. Maybe 300 lbs. He'd become concerned by his weight. He decided to run up the attached airstrip every morning. The airstrip was 2.2 km long. Locals called him '2-Man' because of his size. No unkindness intended. Just African humour. Everyone in the village knew 2-Man. Back then the Sudan problems were as now. Tribal conflict. 2-Man was out on the airstrip for his daily walk/jog. At the turnaround, shooting broke out from the bushes. Bored soldiers shooting at birds. 2-Man wasn't to know. He went from doing 20-minute miles to an Olympic sprinter in a heartbeat. He was on the move. As told to me with a great merriment by a chief, the locals hurriedly left their tukuls (huts) with their suitcases thinking an Antonov was landing to evacuate them. The Chief would go into convulsions retelling this story.

In closing, anyone who saw a stranger taking breakfast in a hotel near Westminster Bridge this morning and thought of similarities with a scene from 'When Harry Met Sally'. This is the effect of fresh milk and 9 weeks in Freetown. Nothing more...

See you back in Africa...