Back to Conakry...

"I went to Lunsar this morning to check on the 7-month-old baby (now 8 months old) with his family. His name is Yaya Bangura. Miraculously, Yaya was not only alive but was much better than the last time I saw him on 11th September. And guess what! He has not been infected with the Ebola virus. Remember, Yaya was nursing from his mother’s breast milk when she died of the virus. I was so delirious with joy I couldn’t contain myself! I wanted to pick him up and dance out of sheer relief. But I didn’t and it broke my heart a bit. Two other siblings also did not contract the virus."

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The remainder of this email (above) to follow...

I've run Conakry before. 21-March 2014. Post number 7. Now we're at Post 25. So much has happened in the intervening 6 months. Who'd have thought both countries, along with Liberia, would be in the tight grip of national crisis. 

I first became aware of Ebola when last here. Initial reports had begun to emerge from the forested regions of southeast Guinea. A quick Google search confirmed a deadly virus, linked to bushmeat, which had first surfaced in Congo in the 1970s. Named after a river in the affected area. Ebola had never reached a major city before. Nothing to worry about then? Wrong. This time would be different. Very different. 

I did a run early this morning around the filthy streets of this impoverished West African capital. Provided space for thought. Time for reflection. Some of the run was quite fitting, and funny in parts. Matched my mood. For instance, I've never seen a good sunrise in Conakry. Too hazy. Smog. Fumes. Regrettably, I can't paint a picture of galloping east into the rising sun. Instead of carbon monoxide poisoning...

When you run, or so they say, you add time to your life. Albeit with knackered knees, stiff achilles, and hip replacements. I'm never sure in Conakry the value of running. Is my life being extended or actually shortened? Sacre bleu... as I ponder this thought I'm nearly taken out by an errant taxi driver. Fortunately, I have no hip replacements, I manage a sidestep Welsh rugby legend Phil Bennet would have been proud of. Good job too, or I'd have inflicted more dents on the taxi.

An out and back run, from my guest house in Rotamu. In the dirty streets and haze of early morning Conakry you have to wonder when the best building you pass is the Korean Embassy. About this point, I fall into a set pace behind two locals. We run about 15 minutes at group pace, without them realising I'm here. Then, as African runners sometimes do, they started doing things with their arms. One arm stiff by their sides, the other up in a jogging motion. Then windmills. For some reason, I'm doing the same thing. Some locals are smiling. They start running with both arms up in the air. So do I. Not sure why. Actually more difficult than you think. I laugh thinking this must be a French legacy?

Let's get serious. I travelled Freetown to Conakry by road last Wednesday. 314 km. 6 hours. Seemed longer. Border procedures on a closed border... that's for another day...

Since my last post, things have deteriorated further. Yesterday was yet another red letter day in this Ebola battle. The death toll moved through 4,000. This is increasing exponentially, which has always been the real danger. When's it going to stop? In Sierra Leone things are bad, Liberia far worse. Here in Conakry seems better, but what's happening upcountry?

In Sierra Leone, there are reportedly 304 beds for Ebola. The country needs at least 4 times this amount. Last weekend saw a record day. 121 new cases. 5 an hour. Unbelievable. It has genuinely penetrated all of Freetown, including Western Area. You remaining expats don't get too comfortable. Spot those symptoms early, get tested. Better still don't contract in the first place. Keep doing the right things, don't become complacent. Maintain discipline.

Trip down memory lane as the British Army arrives in town. 700 troops coming, about 100 in-country so far. The British Government has committed huge funds (thank you from all in Sierra Leone) and will build hospitals and treatment centres with 700 beds. Hopefully, they'll move quicker than some aid agencies. 

In my day we'd (Army) turn up to save the day, to rescue the 'damsel in distress'; it was a case of, 'relax, the army's here' - followed by 'tea and medals all round' following the necessary deeds of daring do... We all wish the military every success in this deployment.

'Food Basket Appeal'. I launched this in the last post with a personal donation of $500. I asked if any of you, with absolutely no pressure, would like to donate up to a maximum of $100 to what was then the 'Food Box Fund'. I hadn't set-up an account on Paypal or anything. 

The inspiration came from a lady whom I'm now about to introduce. It happened the day I wrote the last post. This pocket dynamo stood up in a meeting I attended at Balmaya Restaurant. It was hosted by the British Chamber of Commerce to discuss how the private sector could best support the crisis. This lady's name is KAB (initials). She was passionate. She had energy. I liked her immediately. She'd got off her backside and contributed. She delivered food by herself to quarantined houses over the 3-day lockdown. All from her own resources. I had to first track her down which took a couple of days. We finally met the day before I moved north to Guinea. A real ball of fire with a passion to burn. I knew instantly I'd made the right decision. Let's work together. We are. 

We've finessed the 'Food Basket Appeal'. KAB has shared her ideas. We now have an inventory of 2 different sized boxes. Some houses will require a box A, some B, some both - depending on occupants. Included is the staple food - rice. Other food and cooking oil. Foodstuff for babies, including milk powder and nappies. For children (schools should have opened weeks back) there's toys, notebooks, crayons etc. Baby Diva has volunteered to source what we need as cheaply as possible. We want to get these boxes packed and begin delivery as soon as possible. Freetown will be first.

To all of you who've sent emails of support, to those who have donated generously, either in cash or in other ways, I'm incredibly grateful. So far the pledges have reached nearly $3,000. We'll do as much as we can. Of course, I'd like to raise more. Please pass this to your own contacts. Let's see what more we can do?

I promised I'd mention everyone in the post who has donated. I've written and replied to you all I think. Some original codewords have also come in. These will be covered in the next post. I want to first get this one out as quickly as possible to keep up momentum. Payment details also to follow. Also, please feel free to contact directly: markc.reading@gmail.com

The opening paragraph is part of an email from KAB to me, received 2 hours ago from Freetown. Here's the remainder...

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"I wanted to take some food but didn’t out of fear that he might not be there and it would have been too emotionally draining for me. I did give money once there.

Five of his older siblings (2 girls between 6 and 8 years old and 3 older brothers) contracted the virus, but all five have survived. The two girls have been sent back home and were there today when I visited. The three older brothers are still at an Ebola treatment centre in Hastings and doing well. I spoke to them on the phone, and they said they are likely to be released next week! I couldn’t believe all five survived the virus. How beautiful!

Unfortunately the eight siblings—ranging in age from 20 years old to 8 months old—have lost both parents and their maternal grandmother to Ebola. A woman name Kadiatu is presently acting as guardian and taking care of Yaya and his siblings. She seems to care a great deal for Yaya. When I arrived, she was playing with him. She had no idea that I was coming. I had no contact number for the family. So it was not a set up for my benefit. All the same, eight children are a lot for her to care for. Therefore only God knows what is going to become of these children, especially the younger ones.

Of course, I wish I had the money and energy to take Yaya and raise him. I don’t. However, I thought perhaps we could use some of the proceeds from the 'Food Basket Appeal' (I love the name - brilliant) to set up a scholarship fund for the children, especially the girls and Yaya. What do you think? If even one of these children makes it to University, imagine how great the human story.

Also, Yaya desperately needs clothes, diapers, toys and of course food, as the rest of his siblings. I would like to propose that we use some of the US$500 to purchase the items the baby needs and food for the family. Oh, Mark, you have got to see this blessed child!

If ok with you about using the $500, perhaps we could travel to Lunsar next week so you can meet Yaya and the rest of his siblings. A 7-month-old nursing baby who lost his mother but didn’t contract Ebola despite feeding on his mother’s breast milk at the time of her death.

I would have like to have sent you a photo of Yaya, but sadly, my stupid phone died before my arrival in Lunsar. Oh so happy about Yaya… can’t wait until you meet him!"

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KAB - you won't know I'm using this email until you read this post. Hold yourself together. Enjoy your glass of wine. You deserve it. See you when I get back to Freetown at the end of the week.

Emotive stuff. Beautifully written - by KAB that is, not me! 

P.S. Did my tight-fisted Scottish neighbour donate? This guy is tighter than a camel's backside in a sandstorm. However, the moment I knew this appeal was going somewhere. He gave over the fence in my home village the sum of 10 Guineas, and 7 shillings & sixpence he had in loose change. 

P.P.S. Thanks again everyone, fantastic effort. Brilliant. Proud of you all.  

Everywhere has at least one good watering hole where you can be inspired. Even Conakry...

Lockdown in Freetown (Part 2)

First light: 0640 hrs
Time start: 0700 hrs
Time finish: 0743 hrs
Weather: 24C
Humidity: 89%  
Circumstances: Ebola Crisis: Reflections on 3-day lockdown in Freetown (Part 2)

Always keep the first paragraph short. Hook the reader.

Escaped from 'Lockdown in Freetown' nine days ago. I'm not pretending a major hardship. It wasn't. Always try to count my blessings. Glass half full. I was fortunate to reside at the Radisson Hotel. Little did I realise I'd be pitched into a remake of the much loved Brit sitcom from the 1980s. Hi de Hi. Funny and surreal in equal measure. Each day began with a flyer under the door with the daily programme. 0900 hrs: aerobics at the deck side restaurant. 1100 hrs: run in the hotel grounds with Nunes, the hotel manager (a real star - thank you Nunes). 1400 hrs: water polo in the deck side pool. 1500 hrs: film matinee 'Cry Freedom' in the cafeteria. 1700 hrs: nobbly knees and fattest arse competition in the Bawbaw Bar. Remember 'Escargot' from the Conakry post? He took the honours. Happy hour between 1800 hrs... live music at the.... OK, you get the picture...   

Joking aside, fantastic effort by the hotel. The aerobics part wasn't true. Made it up...

As flagged in the last post (10 days ago), a two parter this time around. I think there's a run in here somewhere. We'll see...

Following the release I was so pleased to see my divas again. Straight to the office from the hotel, there they were. And here they are (pictures below)... they've developed something of a cult following; with my daughter 'Cup Cake', elder sister, and favourite niece (don't tell the others) leading the way. 'Cup Cake' is only eight and too young to read this blog, but she adores stories of Africa, in particular the divas. 

When I'm home I let her train with me twice a week (15 mins max); lo and behold she wants a guest runner slot. The beauty of this electronic 'diary', it's here for ever. In 25 years time when I'm probably in a nursing home, with a blanket over my knees, being fed soup, and telling anyone who'll listen, about Africa and the Ebola crisis of 2014; this will serve as a record. My acorns can read it to their own little acorns. Some other elderly person nearby will say, 'what exactly is that Tombola thing you're talking about there'. Can't wait... 

The SL divas are pictured below. I've had a number of requests to bring them to life. Let's start with Senior Diva, aka 'Eagle'. I've talked them into this. I've taken 10 photos of both, they've chosen for the blog. 

Let's go to Baby Diva, aka 'Cobra'. They've both said they want to remain mysterious. Or was it anonymous? 

On a more serious note and returning to the lockdown. Close your eyes and imagine. Imagine this takes place in your home town. Imagine being locked down for 3 days in your home. No freedom of movement. 7,000 teams going door to door looking for possible ebola victims. If they find anyone... your house is quarantined. 

Can you really begin to imagine? Your world? Mine? Completely different. 

What's it really like to survive on 5,000 Leone's ($1.25) a day. You have to hustle for this amount. No-one is going to give to you. No social safety net. No welfare. You have little money. There's no rainy day fund. You don't live monthly paycheck to paycheck. You don't have a paycheck. You live day to day. Forget the future. It's about today. You have insufficient food. You have no running water. You have no electricity. Your children are at home because all schools are closed. 

The tail end of the wet season. There's malaria, typhiod, cholera, TB, dengue, and plenty of other tropical diseases. Your little bit of money is worth less because prices are increasing. There's a crisis. You can't panic buy, you can't afford panic. You're confused because you don't know what's going on. You don't have TV. You don't have Internet. You speak to neighbours who've heard something on the radio. You've plenty of neighbours because your area is densely populated. You can't become sick, you can't afford sick. Sierra Leone has fewer than 200 doctors for 6 million people, that before this crisis began. 

If that's not bad enough... you now have EBOLA. Africa gets the shitty end of the stick every time...   

This isn't the bottom 5%. More like over 50%.

It's a huge triumph this extremely poor country pulled off lockdown with such compliance and success. Imagine this was your town or city? Seriously, think about it...

I've worked, traveled, or soldiered on every continent, in every corner of the world, and I continue to blame a serious bout of malaria last year as reason for co founding a business here. What was I thinking? Ebola hit within 5 months. This wasn't in the business plan. However, my short term woes are nothing compared to the ones people face here. And, do you know what? These people are amongst the happiest anywhere in the world. So humbling to witness. My time again (?), wouldn't change a thing. 

I've wondered (at least for a minute) about this next point. Read on, I mean this to be low key. The world is throwing money at this crisis. I'm convinced the battle will be won. The world's institutions, NGO's, and governments have been extraordinary. It's taken too long, but this situation is unprecedented. 

If anyone reading this blog is thinking they'd like to do something to help out, perhaps make a small donation? Easy. Send it to me (rubbing hands!), kidding, if you want to, and please don't feel under any pressure, just tell me through the comments section of the blog, or through email (markc.reading@gmail.com), and simply say how much you'd like to donate. 

We'll worry about mechanism for collection later - I haven't thought this through. I don't want anyone to pledge over $100 equivalent (OK, if you make a special case I'll take it...). I'm starting this tomorrow with $500 of my own cash (that's the budget gone for 'O's birthday present, which incidentally I missed 3 days ago). This will also keep me out of the Chinese casino here for a while. My partners, well, I'd like you to match? 

I can guarantee the money will go straight to the point of need. I'm here on the ground and will ensure this. I know the right people, driven people, who will maximize to the fullest extent. There's no overhead. I don't have a name for this. Maybe the 'Food Box Fund'. The money will be used for food boxes for homes quarantined. Imagine being quarantined with nothing to eat or drink. 

I've never done anything like this before. I make my own quiet donations in Sierra Leone, as well as to service charities at home. This is completely new ground.

In future posts I will publish the amount raised and how used, complete with photos. I've no shame, if this isn't successful, then the amount in the next post will still read $500. Johnny A, help me out here... Oh, 'Cup Cake' & 'H' your pocket money is officially donated for the next 4 weeks, you've no say. Remember at all times; we're a family, not a democracy. 

Let's keep it low key; max of US$100, British Pounds 60, or 27 billion Zimbabwe Dollars, equivilant. Each donation will be properly administered. You have my word. Baby Diva is my Finance Manager, she's a pain and will account meticulously. If through this humble effort we can raise a few thousand dollars it will make a decent impact. I hope my miserly Scottish neighbours are reading at home... come on you're still in the Union after 307 years... raise your kilts, undo the wallet combination... celebrate.

Let's finish with a run. The hotel run I promised. No time. 

Let's finish positive regarding Ebola. This virus will be beaten. Over 3,000 have died already in West Africa, but the international community is now fully engaged. The Sierra Leone government is doing its upmost. This country is overflowing with silent heroes doing truly remarkable work. All day, every day. This tide will turn.

Some countries are reopening borders and more flights are becoming possible. The strangle hold is being released. I'm here to Christmas (sorry 'O') and looking at R & R in Abidjan next up - that'll be a special post. This tide will turn. 

The wet season is nearly over. Another morale booster. Down now to short voilent rains, I like to think of them as Welsh. This opposed to incessant rains that just go on and give in abruptly. French rains as I like to call them.   

On a serious note; if you'd like to donate I'll put in the pot. We'll sort out out later. Neighbours - just pass over the fence. Everyone who donates will get a namecheck, it won't be in person - give me a codeword that might mean something special or someone special. You'll know when you see it. This is post 24 in the series, you'll start to be included in post 25. 

Also follow on Twitter: @roadrunnertns

Lockdown in Freetown (Part 1)

Last light: 1849 hrs
Time start: 1720 hrs
Time finish: 1801 hrs
Weather: 27C
Humidity: 79%  
Circumstances: Ebola Crisis: 3-day lockdown in the Radisson Blu Mammy Yoko Hotel, Freetown

'Lockdown in Freetown', a catchy line. Could be a movie title. The genre would be horror. That's what's happening here.  

I've been running around the inside perimeter of the hotel grounds. That's my run for you today. However, and more importantly, I'd like to provide you some perspective on what's happening here on the ground with the curse of Ebola. 

The run? The army teaches one how you can train anywhere. I've worked out a circuit accordingly. Includes the internal and external fire escapes, press ups, burpees, and sprints in the tennis courts, and pushing hard on all steps and inclines. I've figured out a 10 minute circuit. Right, the aim is 4 times round. Forget about early morning for this one, late afternoon before sunset it is... 

A few posts ago (Post 19 - London) I first wrote about Ebola. That was 04th August. 47 days ago. Less than 7 weeks. At that point 729 people had died in Liberia, Guinea & Sierra Leone. The State of Emergency had also just been announced by President Koroma. The country at the time desperately needed help from the international community. It's been painfully slow to arrive.

47 days ago Ebola was a huge story. Since then its had to compete for column inches with other incredible news events. Such as the Islamic State group and beheadings of two US journalists and a British aid worker. The conflict in Ukraine continuing unabated with a death toll put at nearly 3,000. Malaysia Airlines flight MH17 being downed by a missile with the loss of 298 passengers and crew. Syria's civil war moving into year 4. Not to mention Israel / Gaza, Boko Haram and the kidnapped school girls in Northern Nigeria. Oh, and the Ice Bucket Challenge...

In the intervening 47 days the combined death toll has risen from 729 to over 2,500. Probably an underestimate. Medical systems have broken down completely. There's a severe shortage of everything - medical staff, clinics, beds, you name it. Ebola's now either out of control or close to being so. The net result of shortages means infected people cannot be treated, they infect others. Vicious circle. Initial media reports say 92 dead bodies have been collected during this lockdown. This was by last night (end day 2). The death toll in Sierra Leone has now passed 500.

There is hope. There has to be. The Security Council thankfully adopted a resolution this week declaring the Ebola virus a threat to international peace and security. The resolution was co-sponsored by 131 countries. Amazing. Finally the attention required and warranted. The UN is gearing up. Why so long? The US and British militaries are also gearing up. About time.  

Margaret Chan declared this week, "This is likely the greatest peacetime challenge that the United Nations and its agencies have ever faced." Margaret is director-general of the World Health Organisation. 

Posts 21 & 22 took place in Florida on family vacation. I'm now back to reality with a bump. Big time. Arrived back in Freetown Weds evening past. One night in my humble apartment then into hotel luxury for lockdown. Freetown is normally serviced by 47 flights a week, now there's only 5. We're being strangled. Last 2 carriers standing - SN Brussels & Royal Air Maroc. You can't begin to imagine the devastation this isolation is having on the economy. 

Most affected, as always, are the poor in what's an already extremely poor country. No safety net here. Most people hustle to make their 5,000 Leones a day. This means you barely survive. You can eat. Le 5,000 isn't much more than $1. If you're fortunate to have a half decent job, like my divas, you assist extended family and others. Sierra Leone diaspora will also be sending money back to help. This a cash based economy, money has to circulate. It's not. The result. Suffering.

Hey divas, you have great jobs, not half decent ones. I'm asked a great deal about the divas, since this blog began in late Jan this year. They're both fine and keeping well. Normally, there's massive hugs when I return. Not these days. No one touches anyone else. We have many creative West African style handshakes in Sierra Leone. Not these days. We touch right elbows at the moment for some strange reason. There is another exception. Ex-pats. As you may know, in Anglo Saxon culture we're not generally the most tactile of people. Unlike Southern Europeans and Latinos where any excuse will do for bodily contact. There is an exception of course. Anglo Saxons generally like a drink or two in a crisis (or any time for that matter). Reserve goes out of the window. We had an enjoyable evening of Texas Holdem last night with a whisky or two. Yep, later we all became like those soppy Southern Europeans. This morning all back to normal. We really should be more careful in these precarious times...

There's still some humour around in this misery. Funny incident last week on Air Maroc. The headline; 'Former minister Barry Andrews was among four Irish people left "shocked" after an Ebola scare on a flight out of West Africa'. 

Apparently the cabin crew suddenly donned protective suits and masks in belief one of the passengers had Ebola. They 'isolated' some poor soul with a temperature in the toilets. I say funny, maybe not if you're a passenger watching this drama unfold. There was no protective anything for the shocked passengers. 

Last week the 'super' police here (OSD) were seen in 2 trucks with their normal blue fatigues on, but also wearing brightly coloured marigold washing up gloves. There's still the odd chuckle.

I usually try to keep these posts to around 1,000 words, this time I'm only half way through my list of prompts and I'm past that total. This means, to be continued... I haven't even started the run yet...

Moreover, this hotel building has a fantastic history I want to write about. The 3 days in here have been funny and surreal in equal measure. For British readers think, Hi De Hi & Maplins. The only activity we haven't had is bingo. So for now only Part 1, (second installment later this week)...

'Early Morning Run in... Naples, Florida'

This morning Collier County. Gator country. Naples to be precise. Early start. Needs to be. Damn hot. So, without further ado, let me introduce todays special guest runner. The family second in command. It's 'O'. Could have been 'O Dear'. 'O' is for Organiser. I can tell from emails that many are pleased 'O' is entering the blog. More a case of  'O' inserting herself. There's also some 'sister support' out there. For one night only...

Moreover, I sense a problem running with 'O'. In fact, I've been asked to sign an 'Agreement'. Never been faced with such censorship before. Terms? No photos, front or rear. No controlling the pace. No being treated like a military recruit. No references to body parts. Whatever that means. Oh, and a pre read before posting. As I say, for one night only...

Reveille, I mean the wake up call, 0620 hrs. Head west from The Charter Club. We've spent many vacations here down the years. A beautiful location. Past Landings Park. Turn down Broad Ave continuing west. Turn left on 3rd Street, run past the many fine restaurants; Sea Salt, Campellio's, & my personal favourite, Tommy Bahamas. Pace is pretty slow..., I mean steady enough, to 12th Ave - and one of the area's better-known landmarks. Naples Pier. Spectacular for sunsets, it oozes character. The pier sits beautifully as it proudly juts out into the Gulf of Mexico. Beaches are stunning, over 16 kms of pristine sands. However, my Freetown brothers and sisters, these beaches might be special, but not in the same league as the peninsula southeast of Freetown, Sierra Leone.

Naples Pier. This old relic has been here since 1888. Hurricanes and fire have ravaged the old girl over the years. This sturdy old wooden character reminds me fondly of my mother-in-law in some respects.

We jog down the pier past early morning fishermen. At a sitting area half way down there's a group of about 10 elderly folk with a huge thermos of coffee. You get the impression they meet here often, enjoying each other's company and discussing issues of the day. There's gentle laughter and camaraderie as we jog past.

This is one old town. In England Naples would be Bournemouth. Somewhere akin to God's waiting room. 42% of the residents here are apparently 65 years of age or older. Median age is 61 years. In fact, similiar stats to Hesket Newmarket, our home village, where the average age is 87.

We turnaround at the end of the pier. Lots of fishermen casting lines and cleaning fish. A single dolphin playing off the port side. At least I think it's a dolphin.

A little more about Naples. Population 20,000. One word stands out. Wealth. Stinking rich. One of the wealthiest cities in the United States, and the second highest proportion of millionaires per capita. Real estate is among the most expensive in the country, with houses for sale in excess of $40 million. Some of the most luxurious waterfront estates and condos in the world.

Coming, as I have, from West Africa is a contrast of epic proportions. Famous people who have property here include Bill Gates, Donald Trump, Bob Seger, and Buzz Aldrin. There's plenty of old money, as well as the current and retired captains of industry. For the younger folks...

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Don't mess about, Buzz. Who the (expletive) do you think it is?"

"Sorry Neil."

'O' is holding up pretty well as first light comes. Little pink around the gills maybe, but doing just fine. Some references to sore knees, hips and, "I'm not in the Army you know." I might need a lawyer...

Numerous joggers and cyclists out this morning. Everyone's incredibly friendly. After exiting the pier we head north along Gulf Boulevard. Turn right and head east on 5th Ave. Over half way. We're now in the heart of downtown Naples. 5th Ave South and 3rd Street, where we were earlier, is the shopping district. A mix of swanky restaurants, nice hotels, antique shops, art galleries, expensive fashion, realtors, financial institutions... and Starbucks.

Becoming warmer into the rising sun. 5th Ave is a pleasure to run down. I pause, take a few snaps and catch-up to 'O'. Jog to Tin City. An interesting area of Naples. More authentic. More bohemian. An indoor marketplace and the home for several charter and tour boats. Originally a 1920's clam shelling and oyster processing plant. Retains its quaint boardwalks and tin-topped buildings. No chain operations here. Even has a comedy club...

Over the road a sign for Naples Zoo at Caribbean Gardens. Took the young folks there yesterday. Frankly, not a great zoo. In fact, only had one animal. A dog. It was a Shitsu...

Turn right out of Tin City and set course for The Charter Club. 'O' is miraculously getting a second wind and pushing on now. We arrive back at the club house just after 0715 hrs. Resort still in bed. Feel virtous. Let's go and sit down by the pool and watch sunrise? I venture into the club and rustle up some much needed coffee. Radio is set on 'Gator Country 101.9 FM'. Two types of music in these parts. Country. The other. Western.

Pitch up a couple of chairs on the lawn by the pool. I might have stretched the parameters of the 'Agreement', but I've enjoyed this run and having 'O' along. Of course, she's by far the best guest runner to-date, no question... (another stipulation in the Agreement...). 'O', one more thing, what hairy legs you have...

Postscript: What and where next? I was due to return Freetown next week. Over the past days BA has extended the suspension of flights into Sierra Leone & Liberia until end 2014. Air France has also ceased operations. The death toll from Ebola has passed 1,500 according to WHO. Most experts believe the figure to be far higher. Business has largely collapsed and regional travel all but impossible. So, see you back in Freetown...

Divas, cheesy I know, but, let's pray for the rainbow after the storm (from Tin City a few days back).

Additional postscript: 'O' wanted me to mention this was her first run for..., ah forget that, he who holds the pen...

'Early Morning Run In... Tesano, Ghana'

First light: 0553 hrs
Time start: 0615 hrs
Time finish: 0708 hrs
Weather: 23C
Humidity: 78%
Circumstances: Thursday morning, business day, neighbourhood run & gym

No Victoria Falls. No Livingstone. No Harare. No Mugabe jokes. No running over Nelson Mandela Bridge. No Joburg. No guest runners.

Something different. A run with no 'sights', no outstanding history, or any real points of interest. An ordinary run, with ordinary people, in an ordinary neighbourhood. In fact, ordinary as it gets. Real life. I'm in Tesano. Ghana.

Different to Post 4, 'An Early Morning Run In Accra...' back 25th Feb this year. Plenty of other back reading including, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Senegal, Colombia, Guinea, London, and the unforgettable Hesket Newmarket... same link: www.roadrunnertns.blogspot.com

Other bits and photos: @roadrunnertns

Talking of photos. Some have mentioned including photos. Most requests being from ex army shipmates who I know have difficulty reading and much prefer pictures. Slaps - these are for you. Vic Falls from the road trip.

Today a short notice business trip to Ghana. Arrived back Freetown only last Friday following the memorable road trip to Southern Africa. JoBurg being the last post before Florida vacation next month - which should see posts from Orlando, Naples & Miami. Any potential guest runners / guides in these locales perhaps?

Tesano a residential area in west Accra between North Kaneshie & Achimota. Suburb was first inhabited by Lebanese who came for business. The origin, or so I'm told, means 'on a flat flat rock'. Anywhere where the Lebanese don't go? Must be the largest diaspora in the world relative to size.

Downtown Accra can be 20 mins away or 2 hours depending on time of day and traffic. My base is the Charleston Hotel. Excellent establishment with super management and staff. Great value and deservedly right up there on Trip Advisor. Thanks Julie and your wonderful team. See you later in the year. Here we go, let's take a look at Tesano...

Feeling good this morning. Smiling, thinking, plus good not having 'Lifeline' slowing me down. Turn right out of the hotel, of course head east into the rising sun. Beautiful morning. 23C already. The neighbourhood is waking slowly, hardly anyone around. No cars on these un-tarred minor roads. Great for running. The area is flat. Roads are a mixture of compacted sand and gravel. Favourite surface to run. You can hear each step as your shoe bites on the surface. A distinctive sound.

A few people now on the move, everyone cheerful, most say good morning or wave. Run past the impressive Tesano Baptist Church. Don't know the street names. No signs. There's the Tesano Sports Club. I'm aiming to finish here to squeeze a quick 20 mins in their gym. Neighbourhood has everything.

Push on heading north to a main road. Good pace this morning. The time spent at altitiude in Southern Africa perhaps. A road with more activity. More traffic, most probably heading for downtown Accra. Divas note, I kid you not, every second shop is a hair & nails salon. I know from my own SL divas that hair in West Africa is vitally important. Well, not in senior divas case - she remember is bald as a badgers bum. A distinctive West African look. First time I saw senior diva in a W. I. G. (don't ever say the word), it was a shock. She just popped it out of a bag and stuck it on her head to attend a funeral. She needed it to keep her hat on. Not only Whisky India Golf, there's also W. E. A. V. E (don't ever say the word), hair extensions I guess. Like I say, hair and nails is serious business.

On this mini high street there's a local Spar / 7-11 type shop. I ask Grace if she minds I take a quick snap with my phone. She smiles and says of course. Ghanaians are friendly. Over the road the local pub. Some pleasant smells around too, sweet coffee brewing, fresh bread... time to head back to the gym.

As I head back into the minor roads there's more activity. Plenty of children walking to school in small groups, all carrying books and wearing distinctive bright simple uniforms. Walking without adults, and some are young. A great deal of laughter and joy. These kids are happy. Then a bizarre sight, a policeman with a speed camera. I don't see any cars on these interior roads.

In southern Sudan a few years back I was traveling by vehicle in the oilfield areas between Heglig and Bentiu. The oilfield police waved me down which was strange. Mohammed, who I knew, said sorry Mr. Mark you are speeding. He waved his new toy through the window. He smiled broadly. It showed 84 kms. 4 kms over the speed limit. Bear in mind at the time there was a civil war. During my time 4 drilling rig attacks by SPLA rebels, a camp attack on the main oil facility, pipelines blown up, a helicopter shot at, landmines laid on the roads, and plenty of other incidents besides.

I asked Mohammed when did he get this new piece of equipment. The day before he replied. I told him his new machine could not be working correctly. I was not driving that fast. He just looked at me. Explains he must fine me the equivilant of $5 and give my name to the camp boss. Told him I had an idea. I would drive back and come down the road again to check his machine was indeed working properly. I pulled up next to him a second time. He looked puzzled. The machine showed 70 kms. There you go I said, the machine wasn't calibrated properly. Continued on my way. Pretty poor that - purchasing faulty equipment. Lucky for me though...

As I write about Sudan I think fleetingly about many ex colleagues and friends there, Mahmoud D. in particular. At this time of the year - Ramadan Kareem.

Head back onto the un-tarred roads, pick up the pace back to the sports club. They welcome me. I'm able to sign in as a guest from the hotel. Sly, who has arms bigger than my thighs, provides a quick brief. Just time for one quick exercise on each muscle group and a few abby dabby doobies. Jog back to the hotel as a cool down. I'm ready for the day.

Ready for eggs and coffee too. I have Samuel rebooked (post 4) as taxi driver for my downtown meetings. You may remember Samuel from the Accra post. Want to check back with him on the World Cup and the Ghana team, for which things ended rather ignominiously. Mind you, for all their travails they were the one team that come closest to beating Germany (WC Final later today). One of the best games, before the Ghanaians imploded into politics.

Footnote - I take breakfast with 'Good Morning Ghana' on in the background. Callers ringing in complaining about everything. All West African countries complain to some extent. Ghana takes to a whole new level. Everything is the governments fault. One caller says she had no light (meaning electricity) for 2 hours last evening. What was the government doing? I wanted to phone in and say come to Freetown for a week, you'll soon realise you've nothing to complain about. Ghana is a great country, extremely friendly hospitable people. However, they sure know how to whine.

Reminds me of another line from the Sudan days. Canadian expats. What's the difference between a Canadian expat and a jet engine? Eventually the jet engine stops whining....sorry to my Canuck friends...

A Sunday afternoon pleasure in Freetown writing this one, which I hadn't planned. This is wet season. Non-stop torrential rain outside, mixed in with incredible thunder and lightning. Pure fury. Another 3 months of wet season. 6 hours today and counting. Will be havoc outside - damage, mud slides, overflowing storm drains, blocked roads, trees down. Unrelenting...

Afternoons like this? Bunker down, fresh coffee, family size Toblerone from the fridge, a good book and perhaps a little writing. DSTV has gone down - phone the Ghanaian government...

Unless anything unexpected comes up - on to Florida next month...

Updates on Twitter: @roadrunnertns

'Early Morning Run in... Johannesburg'

Next stop Johannesburg. Northeastern South Africa. Population 3 million.

Let's begin with a chuckle. A joke not included in the three previous Zimbabwe posts. Barack Obama and David Cameron and Robert Mugabe are in a boat in the Atlantic, when suddenly the ship develops a leak. They have only one life jacket. Obama says, "Let's do the democratic thing. Take a vote to see who has the life jacket." They each write a name on a piece of paper and stuff it in a coffee can. Obama and Cameron have one vote each; Mugabe gets six.

A short pleasant flight from Harare yesterday. 'Lifeline' hires a Noddy car at the airport. Also a GPS. Essential to stay in the right areas. We won't be outrunning anything in Noddy.

The final post in this 2014 mini-series from Southern Africa. The trip has taken in Harare, Victoria Falls, and Bulawayo. Today Johannesburg completes an unforgettable road trip. 'Lifeline' is the guest runner for the 4th time.

The Joburg base is a private home in Westcliff. An extremely affluent suburb with views over the inner city and northern suburbs. Another guest to introduce. Meet 'Granite'.

Last evening was a wonderful one of African hospitality. Plenty of high quality South African wine quaffed. We enjoy a spirited conversation on a wide range of subjects, including: Andy Murray, his pushy mother, the World Cup, guilt or otherwise of Oscar P, Kevin Pietersen's sacking by England, Nelson Mandela, cricket, African politics, and Matt Damon's unsuitability, being a short arse, to play a back row rugby legend in the movie 'Invictus'. A lively evening...

Oh, not to forget, some planning for today's early morning run. You know it's a good evening when the run slides by an hour.

'Granite' kindly offers to drop 'Lifeline' and I downtown. We'll run back to Westcliff taking in some sights. Oh, forgot to mention the nibbles last evening. Biltong. The Boer used biltong during the war of the late 1800s. Food for travel (longlasting), and food for war (protein). Some say South Africans like only two things more than sunny skies and rugby. That's biltong & beer. This beautifully dried cured meat with a salty texture is perfect with cold beer. I'm hooked.

In amongst the fine wine I missed the briefing about the internal house alarm. Crime is a serious consideration in Joburg. Granite had said, "if nature calls at 0500 hrs use the guest suite's en-suite bathroom. Don't open the wrong door into the main house."

Sorry to everyone for the earlier than expected alarm.

0650 hrs. Glass of water. Quick laugh about the idiot who woke the whole house up two hours earlier. Into Granite's car. We're in the traffic flow to downtown before 0700 hrs. Jan Smuts Avenue is busy. 15 minutes later we're dropped in Newtown. A well-known cultural district, a bohemian feel with restaurants, museums, jazz clubs, theatres...

We quickly establish our bearings and run north to cross Nelson Mandela Bridge (below). It's cold. We feel the altitude for the first ten minutes. In two weeks is Nelson Mandela Day (18th July), his birthdate. He'd have been 96 years old. The great statesman and icon passed away 5-Dec 2013. So many quotes, I'll go with this one, "I am fundamentally an optimist. Whether that comes from nature or nurture, I cannot say. Part of being optimistic is keeping one’s head pointed toward the sun, one’s feet moving forward. There were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would not and could not give myself up to despair. That way lays defeat and death."

This year also marks 20 years since South African gained full democracy from white minority rule. Apartheid was over in 1994.

Another guest runner appears. We're joined by a local lecturer for a few hundred metres, jogging alongside in his street clothes no less. A fantastic smile on his face. Thankfully we turn and head east up Ameshoff Street. He was the flying lecturer. He could move. We settle back into a steady groove up Constitution Hill.

Joburg theatre to the left. Now renamed after Nelson Mandela.  The giant billboard advertises Peter Pan opening in November. 'Second to the right, and straight on till morning'. Peter told Wendy this was the way to Neverland. A land of fairies. We're in South Africa. Haven't seen any fairies yet.

For us, it's first to the right and straight up Constitution Hill. Continue climbing Joubert Street.

Constitution Hill. What a view. Worth the ascent. We run straight into the Old Fort, first built in 1893. All happened right here, folks. It's more than the site of South Africa's Constitutional Court. There's some stunning modern architecture on this 100-acre site. This former prison complex held Gandhi, Luthuli, and Mandela (all Nobel Prize Winners), amongst numerous others. His 27 years in jail began right here.

We run a slow circuit of the raised fort perimeter. A high vantage point to see Joburg. Pause. Take a few snaps. Over to the east is Hillbrow. This suburb is more associated with crime than anything else. A hard area, even the Rottweilers, go around in pairs.

We work our way down from the high ground. Plenty of cheery bonhomie from those on foot also thumbs up from some drivers. I detect we're something of an oddity. Perhaps not a well known early morning running route? Down from the high ground onto Empire Road. Head west. Merge back onto Jan Smuts and begin heading north slightly uphill back to Westcliff. The training for Vic Falls paid off.

Run past our base - one more thing to do. 'The Steps'. 300m run down. Turn at the bottom and push back to the top as hard as possible. A final jog around Westcliff to warm down.

Here ends a beautiful road trip. Johannesburg has been fantastic for 36 hours; I want to return. A hearty thank you to 'Lifeline' and to all we've met along the way.

P.S. Thanks to 'Granite' for a bumper pack of Biltong for my hand luggage. I'm both savouring and rationing it...

'Early Morning Run in... Bulawayo'

First light: 0632 hrs
Time start: 0710 hrs
Time finish: 0802 hrs
Weather: 8C
Humidity: 36%
Altitude: 4,300ft
Circumstances: Tuesday morning, business day, downtown Bulawayo

Difficult to swap one of the seven wonders of the world for an industrial city in the hinterland of Zimbabwe. But, here we are in Matabeleland.

Yesterday drove southeast 4 and a half hours to Bulawayo. 435 kms. Second largest city in Zimbabwe. Population 650,000. Unsure what to expect...

'Lifeline' books us into the Bulawayo Club. Founded in 1895. Hidden gem on corner 4th Street & 8th Avenue. Old fashioned colonial elegant building steeped in history. Built in 1935, like staying in a museum. Throwback to another era, another time. The club has been lovingly maintained, great credit to the excellent management and staff.

Get straight into it this morning. Chilly. Let's go. 'Lifeline' needs no introduction. First guest runner to appear twice, now for the hat-trick. Out the front door, first run with little to no research. Which way? If in doubt always head east towards the rising sun. Something will turn-up. Altitude around 4,300 ft. Can feel a good run coming on.

Straight over the robots at the crossroads. Prominent statue of the late Vice-President Joshua Nkomo’s to my left. Died in 1999, accorded national hero status.

Might be early, but lots of activity. Street corners seem gathering places. Piles of newspapers on the ground with stones weighted on top. People glancing at the headlines. Glance down myself to see what's happening. People are wrapped against the chill. Some smoking and standing in small groups. These are people without jobs. Many of them. Others hurry about their business. Shops here open early, most by 0800 hrs.

Downtown Bulawayo seems shabby but functional. Well laid out but deteriorating. 'Lifeline' is moving awkwardly following his exertions in the half marathon 48 hours previously. City Hall ahead. Building looks good with neat lawns. Traders setting up using the freshly painted blue railings to display local art, usual African bric a brac, and an impressive array of fresh flowers.

Turn, still heading east, onto L.Takawira Ave. A straight road signposted Cairo 3,500 miles. On the other side of the roof another sign indicates Capetown 1,150 miles.

Run down the right side of L.Takawira. Traffic is light coming into town. Impressive park both sides of the road. Take a look at right half first. British and colonial in appearance reflecting the period when this green space was established. Bandstands, working fountains, memorials, and statues - some dating back to the Matabele Wars. Whilst the park may not be what it once was, I see park keepers at work. It's not being left to just rot. Crossover to the left side. More symbols of the past. Lakes, stream, a small gauge railway line, probably used to give youngsters rides. Many of the water features and streams are sadly overgrown. Imagine Bulawayo has higher priorities these days with public funds.

The park remains an area of tranquility, good to see young students sat in the old bandstand reading and studying. We see the National History Museum at the junction of Park Road. Opposite is the NGO, World Vision. Park Road is the best part of the city I've seen in the short time in town.

A little more on Bulawayo perhaps. Sits on a plain that marks the High-veld of Zimbabwe and close to the watershed between the Zambezi and Limpopo drainage basins. Twinned with Aberdeen, Scotland. I hear from home that my Scottish 'brothers' are enjoying England's rather quick World Cup exit. This has coincided with an uptick in their performances since wee Gordon Strachan took over. He said after they beat Iceland earlier this year, he was looking to arrange further games against... Walmart and Marks & Spencer.

Head north back towards the city noting the cricket academy. We circle the outfield also noting the Walnut Cafe for coffee later.

A broad smile as we run past the National Theatre. A big poster advertising, 'The Wizard of Oz', opening 30th July for 4 nights. Seems a little bizarre, but why not. I wish the production well. In fact, 'Lifeline' is doing a pretty good impression of 'Tin Man' this morning with his laboured running style, rounded off by his checked bermudas.

Right. Time to push on back to the Bulawayo Club and brekkie. Cross over R.Mugabe Way. Every town has at least one such road. Want to rename it, 'His Way or The Highway'. After this thought, which of course is a joke, it's past the Selbourne Hotel.

Heading west now, run past the Econet offices, one of the more impressive modern makeovers. Econet Wireless, a global business, was founded by its Chairman Strive Masiyiwa. Cell net coverage in Zimbabwe is excellent. My humble dealings with this company in Harare have been first rate. Mr. Masiywa is well known on the world business stage and demonstrates what can be achieved by Africa entrepreneurs. A Zimbabwean success story by any measure.

Arrive back to the Club. 52 minutes. One of the most enjoyable runs I've done. Enjoyed this one. Feel on a high. Later, after coffee at the Walnut and a discussion with locals, we realise can't head south to Rhodes grave, which was an original intent. Not enough time. Will take 3 hours there and back. Then due to roadworks another 7 hours to Harare. Too much night driving. Maybe after next years Vic Falls Half Marathon.

Rhodes is buried in the Matobo Hills. He died 1902, his body brought to Bulawayo by train. He and other early white pioneers like Leander Starr Jameson are buried at a site named World's View.

Well, that's all for this post. This amazing road trip concludes with a short visit to JoBurg. One more post to come... see you in South Africa...

Footnote: Following 7 hours back to Harare, last 2 hrs in the dark again, we come across the President's motorcade. Lots of vehicles (about 15), flashing lights, high speed maneuvers, and sirens. Local wags apparently refer to it as 'Bob And The Wailers'..., or so I'm told...

Breakfast in the club...