AS THE SECOND PART OF THE TRIP (Rainforest and Rockfowl) started, things unraveled even more. Both Heinz and I had some sort of virus. I could — and did — remain behind and rest up but Heinz had to soldier on. Roger, from Holland, is as serious a birder as Johannes. Each has spent thousands of Euros traveling the world in search of a single species. They attached themselves to David like remoras to a shark and somehow were always the first in line to view a species through the scope.
Nyasosso
Since I skipped the arduous hikes up Mt. Cameroon and Mt. Kupe´ I have to rely on Connie’s reports. David continued to conjure up spectacular birds while Johannes and Roger hogged the scope. Johannes also had the annoying habit of securing the best spot then taking hundreds of photos, his shutter rattling like a machine gun. Soon the trip seemed to divide amoeba-like into two; David, Johannes, Roger and Marga v. Heinz and the rest.
The road to Bamenda was mostly paved, the hotel was one of the best of the trip and as far north as we would go on this portion of the trip, though far south of where we were on the first part of the trip. Except for the hours, this was the most civilized birding we had. In my opinion. But from here on things went downhill.
The drives grew longer and the roads worse as we headed south to Campo Ma’an National Park. These vans had “African air-con,” open windows, and we were all filthy by day’s end. It took two full days, much of the time at jogging speed, to reach Campo Ma’an with an overnight stop at Edea — and our last shower!
Campo Ma'an tents Ya gotta squat!
There is no electricity at Campo Ma’an, nor running water, nor beds, nor toilets. Connie and I had our own room, as did Jean and Linda. We slept on two-inch foam mattresses on the concrete floor, but we’re not complaining. Some of the singles were stuck with backpacker tents. Everyone had gotten the knack of bucket showers but most of us were too old for the “squatter” outhouses. JP and his cook did OK with the food, mostly chicken and pasta dishes with lots of fresh pineapple, mango and papaya.
Campo Ma'an "kitchen" Bucket shower
David continued his petty feud with the drivers — why were they late, who should put water in the van, when to use FWD — voice raised and always in front of us. He was treating grown men as if they were children and he became very pissy when I called him on it. At least he knows his birds.
After the heavy rains the drive back to Edea was even worse and the final days drive back to Douala wasn’t much better. We had a chance to clean up at the Ibis before JP shuttled us to the airport. But in another 36 hours we’d be home.
POSTMORTEM: Admittedly the problem is mine. I am not a fanatical birder and I don’t like groups. The rest of the group was so fixated on birds and their creature comforts (or lack of) that only Martin and I took photos of the people. I don’t do well on someone else’s schedule (unless it’s Connie’s.) I especially hate being pushed and shoved. I was ill for part of the trip and, frankly, although this was my first time in Cameroon, I am sickened by the lack of progress in Africa since our first trip 15 years ago.
All in all the group saw 500+ species of birds; Connie added 240 new birds to her list.
