Dec 27.

CAMEROUN. And stuck, a mere 13 miles over the border.

Complete engine stoppage, presumed electrical (distributor or coil ?). Have checked that there is no spark at the contact breaker, but could not face any more detective work in the afternoon heat of 99F (in the shade; and we were not able to stop in the shade). Hoping to be towed to a garage in the morning, we camp beside the road.

Finding our way into Cameroun had been not easy. At Dar Jammal we were told that the road to Mora no longer existed and were sent on to Banki, a place not on the map. Another 20 miles of ruts and sand did bring us to this bustling market village of Banki. Here we made a few purchases to finish off our Nigerian coins. In five days' time, Nigeria will be the very last country to turn to decimal, so we are almost the last people in the world to trade with threepences, sixpences and half crowns. Lsd will be no more.

We enquired the way on to Mora, without luck, but at the end of the village was a small sign saying 'Republique Federale du Cameroun', several minibuses and travellers, a row of market stalls and a stone building which could be a police station. It was -- a Cameroun police station. We were no longer in Nigeria. And we seem to have bypassed Mora.

No barrier here. A lone policeman waved vaguely for us to stop without even getting up off his chair beneath a shady tree. He glanced at our passports in a friendly sort of way, we had to fill in a form, and after a little hand shaking we were soon on our way. But there was a customs office as well, and here we presented our carnet. This was found to be far too complicated a document for them and we were instructed to report again at Kourgui Mora, 20km farther on (this is not Mora). Here our carnet was recognised, so little more delay. "Now", we said, "we will head for the mountains and the 'pitons volcaniques'."

One mile later, the engine ceased firing. And here we still are. But at least we are now in sight of rocky hills with a few trees rising out of the plain only a mile away. The first real hills since leaving Algeria, and the promise of better things to come. 'Mountain view breakdown' camp site.

After dark, Marion investigated grasshopper-like sounds and found a nocturnal colony of red ants. The sound was the drumming of their heads on dead leaves which seemed to be a danger signal. They were all within an eight inch square, and ranged round the edge were the sentries, motionlessly facing outwards. Much bustling activity, specially along a main corridor, led to an orderly retreat away from Marion's torchlight. Moths, however, were attracted to the light, and the ants reared up as if trying to catch them if they came near enough. Within a quarter of an hour all ants had disappeared down their hole.

Dec 28.

I did get a lift back into Kourgui, and was taken to the cotton factory. I waited another hour for their mechanic to arrive and we returned to our breakdown site in his Landrover with four assistants. After an hour's work on the distributor (temp 98F, 37C) we were towed back to the factory. Lunch in the yard (in the shade) watching sacks of deseeded cotton being bagged up for transport. Jennifer had time today for another diary entry: "We are at Kourgui Mora near the cotton factory. We saw some lorries full up with cotton."

Distributor repaired with new contact points and coil from the spare. Carburettor trouble now became apparent. Why should these two problems occur together ? Three helpers stayed on to assist for over an hour after their work stopped at 4.30, finally deciding that the carburettor must be dismantled.

We camped in a dry river bed at the edge of the village, only a short distance to carry things from the van.

Not a satisfactory day.

However, Marion had had a more interesting time. A morning bird-watching walk while waiting, finding 1. a Paradise Whydala with huge black tail, black back and face, yellow side to head, reddish bib and buff underparts. 2. a Bee-eater with buttercup yellow underparts and metallic green above, a tufted tail, and eating something on a thorn tree (a bee ?). 3. a small pigeon-like bird, black face, pale grey back and whitish underparts and long tail. 4. a Melba Finch with red face, bib and upper tail coverts, yellowish chest and wings, and barred white underparts. Also a curious creeper like an epiphytic cactus clambering over trees and bushes.

Marion and Bo also had an afternoon stroll looking for things to buy. They found a bakery only with the help of a small boy who led them through an unnoticeable door in a blank wall to find three men and a boy seated on a mat playing cards. Outside a man was refuelling the oven, a dome-shaped structure of mud bricks. They also bought meat at a roadside stall and tomatoes in the courtyard of five huts joined by a mud brick wall; in the centre, under a thatched shade roof, a man was ironing with a charcoal iron. They gave their guide a 'ladybird' book we no longer required, as he was asking for a book, even if in English. He had learnt good French in the local school which he showed them -- a row of benches in an open hut.

Dec 29.

Another depressing discovery. The carburettor trouble was due to the loss of the plunger in the float control valve; not only lost, but lost by me, on the road two days ago when we first broke down. Disturbing. First attempt at a solution was to recruit Marion with her eagle eyes to help find it; we were able, surprisingly, to borrow a bicycle, so now imagine the two of us cycling out a mile or so to search for a half inch long piece of thin brass rod -- in the sand. Hopeless of course. Now, how to manufacture a new piece of brass rod ? The factory mechanic had a better idea; by searching among bits and pieces he turned up a trump in the form of a bit of rod from some valve or other and soon produced a brand new plunger. The engine started first time and purred happily away.

So did we. At midday we were away again, this time heading for Maroua, the nearest large town. We felt in need of a bank before starting our diversion up to the volcano country. Actually our mechanical troubles had set us back no more than 2000 francs CFA (we are back in 'French' country now), or 3 pounds. And this for 24 hours attention by two mechanics and numerous 'assistants'; we are deeply indebted to the French factory staff for defraying the true cost. No doubt they were happy to have had two such unusually interesting days ! And finally to have got rid of us !

During the morning Bo and the children had been writing and drawing with two boys who had joined them, and afterwards presented them with a book and a biro. It soon became apparent that they had already stolen several biros including a special Parker one that Marion had been presented with by the Highley playgroup.

We now travelled through pleasant hilly countryside, and found Maroua to be a fair-size town with one of two banks open, post office and market. Numerous young boys were a nuisance. "The boys rode on the front and not on the back" (as at Baga), records Peter.

Now, heading for the mountains once more on the road to Mokolo, we are camped at the foot of a 300 foot hill amongst the scrub land of a forest reserve. We had had a cooked lunch in order not to keep yesterday's meat any longer, and on arrival here a super tea with fresh lettuce and French-style bread with real crispy crust, a tonic after the flabbiness of Nigeria.

"I am sleeping outside tonight, like the grown-ups," says Peter.

Dec 30.

We might well be in Sutherland now, with Suilven and Canisp rising from the plain in the distance, and other volcanic peaks surround us. But no; it is not raining, and the map tells us that we are among Les Kapsikis (Pitons Volcaniques). Some could well have been transported straight from Scotland, others from the Hoggar Mountains.

We have come today up into the Mandara Mountains by roads of ever increasing interest, both human and scenic, by way of Meri and Mokolo to the village of Mogode. The straw villages perch on rocky outcrops or are half hidden among the boulders. Occasional dry stone walls are now used between the huts instead of mud. Men's long trousers have nearly disappeared, along with many other clothes; women's clothing is very often topless and children under five wear nothing.

A floral countryside. On the way we stopped to inspect orangeish-red flowers covering a leafless ash-like tree with small birds feeding on them. We passed flowering euphorbias with masses of yellow flowers on the ends of spiny leafless branches. Some rather anaemic-looking aloes, some with long red tubular flowers and larger rugger-ball shaped seed cases. We saw a troupe of about 25 baboons on the road who retired rapidly before being photographed.

We are camped at the foot of one easily accessible jagged peak up which we all climbed in the sunset hour after supper -- this and sunrise being the only bearable times for expeditions on foot. We were accompanied by only two of the motley group of young people that collected round our camp site. They pointed out to us that we are still very close to the Nigeria border, and showed us the graves of the village chiefs on the hill with lesser graves at the foot. At supper time we managed to appeal to their sense of propriety, and a retreat was made to a distance of some 100 yards. In the evening one of the boys played pleasantly haunting tunes for us on a simple two-stringed instrument. I made a recording. Someone produced eggs and tomatoes for us to buy, and Marion was presented with two brass rings. How nice to be given a present; a change from the ever popular cry of "Donnez moi un cadeau."

A cooler evening with a slightly refreshing little breeze.

Dec 31. Sunday.

A day that we prefer to pretend did not exist; or, as Marion puts it, did not occur as planned.

Complete failure again of distributor and carburettor after a specially early start and travelling 50 yards, not even reaching the road. I had to get a lift 25 miles to Mokolo to search for a mechanic and returned with two of them in mid afternoon. They worked till 7.30, when one of them left and the other stayed with us for the night. Result -- still complete mystification.

We had no cause to celebrate New Year's Eve.

January 1st, 1973.

The mechanic left over from yesterday spent all day working. We did give him some food. Result -- carburettor may now be satisfactory but distributor still baffles.

We had various visitors and managed to buy vegetables and guavas, a new fruit to us; looks like a small pomegranate and tastes like fig. Peter and I got a lift six miles to the hotel at Rhum-Siki to get drinking water and returned with bread, and bottles of beer and orange as well. It was an attractive place of round native style rondavels, stone built with thatched roofs, surrounded by flowers. A meal there in the panoramic restaurant would have been delightful if one hadn't had to pay for it.

Now Peter can take over for the 'fireworks': "We went back to our van in the hotel managers car. In the car we travelled 90 kilometres per hour. We had soup for lunch, and gave the mechanic some. Later Mummy made us a Treasure Hunt, at the end were three biscuits. Then we saw the flames (they are burning the grass, and it looks very nice at night) approaching and we thought we would move, so a lot of people collected up to help, and we moved. Then Mummy, Jennifer, Timothy and I went for a walk to see the flames. We gave the mechanic supper too."

Yes, the grass fires did look very nice at night, but they had been creeping slowly towards us for the last two days and would be reaching the road tonight. So our move (pushing the van) was to the other side of the road in the hope that the flames would not cross. Now, at 9pm, the fire is some 50 yards away. We are in for a crackly-sounding night, but being on the windward side, we are safe from fire and the smoke. The fire is advancing against the wind; a fascinating sight, although quite a gentle fire low on the ground, leaving merely blackened grass after the passing of the 'warm front'. One can almost step over the line of fire and walk on the black remains behind it. Bats are swooping round relishing the insects that are taking wing to escape incineration. The flames are now appearing round the edge of the hill above us so that we are being attacked by fiery pincers. The volcanic peak looks almost like a real volcano. An adequate substitute for a New Year bonfire.

Jan 2.

Our inactivities are hardly worth recording. Marion got a lift to Mokolo to take a worn distributor cable for soldering, and had to wait three hours for a return lift (a kind customs official lent her a chair to sit on and she had a book). A promised tow to the town failed to materialise, but the rest of us did get a tow as far as the nearest village of Mogode, where we are now in the driveway of the Protestant Mission (an American establishment), a better position perhaps for further help. Marion rejoined us as we were having supper, but on fitting the repaired cable, flashes at the ignition switch indicated a short, which did not help at all. We sit in the shade and hope and play 'Scrabble'.

Peter writes of one unusual item: "The American boys at the Mission have got a car made out of bits of a car and it has got an engine, and it goes !" The children were shown round a school, and Jennifer writes: "now we are in Cameroun. At this place there is a mission and there is a school for the black boys. The girls do not go to school. The big white boys at the mission have made a funny car."

Peter's latest riddle: 'Why is a professional like a voltmeter ?' 'Neither is an amateur.' This is inspired by our electrical troubles.

Jan 3.

Another promise of a tow, and a morning of schoolwork outside the school, playing games and making a Lego windmill -- and waiting.

At 5pm a lorry really did turn up to give us a tow, and this time all the 25 miles to Mokolo. Quite an exciting experience. We sped along at 35mph to start with, until a particularly violent jerk in the dip of a concrete ford tore off the towing lug on the bumper. Luckily there are two lugs so we could proceed at a more sensible pace thereafter. But it was soon dark and the lorry had no lights; we could use our own lights, but the driver's forward view was in the shadow of his own vehicle. However, we did arrive safely in Mokolo at 7.15. We were dumped outside the garage where we made a satisfactory enough camp site beside a pile of rocks and trees, with a convenient street light for writing diaries. And again the sound of drums and singing in the background.

Jan 4.

Under the direction of the 'chef du garage' and another whole day of investigative work, the day did finish with success at last. Replacement of wiring and a coil that had been replaced only last week seemed to solve things but we do intend ordering a new distributor from England to be delivered to Bangui. When the van finally drove triumphantly out of the garage it was greeted with much applause.

So supper was a happy meal, and even Timothy ate well, having had only a slice of bread for lunch, and vigorously demanded bananas of which there are none in Mokolo.

Jan 5.

One more maintenance job: welding on the bumper where the towing lug had been wrenched off. And sent the telegram to order a distributor (at a cost of 6 pounds).

We stocked up with more water from a well and set off again at 10.30. Due south now, on the direct road to Garoua via Guider. More of the pleasant countryside, hills, trees and scrub. Villages and cultivation, mostly millet and cotton. Would be ideal walking country if only it were possible to keep cool. As we stopped for lunch we watched all the speedometer figures change to 60000.0 (nearly 6500 miles from England). We were among trees by one of the many concrete fords over a dry river bed. We saw bundles of leaves bound with silk hanging from trees. Marion inspected one and found it to be a red ants' nest and that they were good biters.

Through Guider, a cotton market apparently, we camped in open bush country, but Marion now not feeling very bright, after headaches and yawning for a couple of days. A sort of flu ?

Another grass fire outlined the tops of the hills a safe mile away, making a pretty gold-fringed skyline.

Jan 6.

8.45 start. Marion eating but inactive. Tarmac road after four miles and all the 42 miles to Garoua. A large town:. Three stops: 1. the market for a good stock of fruit and veg, pawpaws another new fruit for us, and meat, and peanuts, 2. a garage for water (garages often the best source of this essential), 3. a general store where we had to pay a colossal 470 francs (75p) for a litre of meths, enquired about jam, also ludicrously expensive, and sugar which was unobtainable. Clothes here were far more respectable, with women in European type dresses and men in decent shirts and trousers. It was also really really hot; 104F, and our highest so far.

On leaving Garoua we crossed the river Benoue on a high new bridge and saw clothes spread out to dry in colourful display on the sandbanks down below, canoes drawn up on the beach and large barges moored by a factory. There was water flowing too, the first all weather river since before the desert. We soon stopped for lunch and regretted that we are no longer allowed even to paddle in any natural water (bilharzia always threatens). An African openbill stork entertained us, with ever-open beak apparently for catching and carrying fresh water snails. The tarmac soon petered out and a very poor temporary road followed alongside new roadworks and later back on to the original old corrugated road.

We passed a sign to 'elephants', but assumed they would not penetrate to our present camp site on grass blackened by recent bush fires. New green grass shoots were already showing through. It seems that these fires are allowed to burn as they like.

We noticed that we can no longer see the Pole Star.

Jan 7. Sunday.

Marion still unwell and feeling weak and eating little. Bo is giving penicillin and assuming some sort of infection.

First puncture, after 45 more miles of corrugations. And found more broken wheel studs. The afternoon brought significant change in road and scenery. At Ouak a tarmac road started and immediately commenced a long climb into the Adamaoua Massif. We must have climbed about 1000ft. on this good but twisty road through tree-covered rocky hills. Some of the trees lovely and green. Baboons on the road. Found termite nests, mushroom shaped mounds that mystified us at first. At the top was plateau country, wide horizons with a few smooth grassy (but not green) hills. And significantly cooler.

After 112 miles in the day, stopped at 'cool plateau' camp site, in open country looking down on to trees in the valley below. No need to seek shade for comfort. A healthy spot. Maybe Marion will make a miracle recovery in the night.

Jan 8.

To Ngaoundere. 35 miles. Continued on the good road (53 mph down one hill out of gear !) until meeting new construction works again. Arrived in the town at 9 o'clock in clouds of dust from the traffic.

First port of call was to find a doctor for Marion. We found two. The first was French at a public hospital who asked a few cursory questions and gave a prescription. Not a great help. We then found a Norwegian hospital at a Protestant mission with a more understanding American doctor. Gastritis diagnosed, and assurance that it was nothing to worry about; and pills dispensed. She is better today anyway. We had to pay for this and sent off an insurance claim.

Meanwhile I took the punctured tyre to a garage and took the opportunity to have our brand new spare fitted. The puncture was due to small stones inside the cover. Also found another place to have welding done in the afternoon. This had become necessary yesterday when we noticed broken welding on windscreen and cab roof supports as we lurched along rutted roads. Having the windscreens fully open horizontally to get as much air as possible did not help cab stability.

We had lunch and supper near that garage, where the children had found a good place to play in an old house and among boulders, and we camped not far off after driving 100 yards along a footpath away from the road. Timothy learnt today to say 'choclit' instead of 'cloclit'. A suitable place to learn; Cameroun chocolate was one thing we had been told we must buy here; so we did, It was worth it. But much too messy to be eaten in the heat of the day.

Jan 9.

5.30am and an early morning walk for me. Up a boulder-strewn hill topped by huge boulders making a castle-like effect, but these proved inaccessible. A good view of the town of Ngaoundere from the top, the tower of a large Catholic church being the most obvious feature. Also a large mosque, and at the Protestant mission a 'typical English village church'. The town has more trees than buildings seen from this angle.

More welding took all morning, while I managed to buy some bolts suitable for wheel studs after they had been turned to fit at the garage. Afternoon shopping included jets for the new Primus that we had bought in Kano, and yesterday I repaired the petrol stove so we now feel better equipped for cooking than for some time. So it has been a useful two days in Ngaoundere.

We left at 3.30 and drove 28 miles before camping in a wood. A bit like being in an orchard with cherry-like trees more or less evenly spaced, some like lilac with sweet smelling furry white flowers. We called the site 'cherry orchard'.

Jan 10.

Jennifer sat on a bee just as we were ready to move off. A basketwork beehive in a tree above us had proved to be definitely inhabited. They were a menace to washing up , too, and hummed around in the van. Anyway, no more complaints after the first minute of the sting, thanks to anti-histamine. Also food could no longer be left on the ground because of ants.

A good driving day today. 124 miles between 9am and 4, with 1 1/2 hours for lunch. Road conditions variable. Lunch was in a pleasant open wood with many more mushroom-shaped termite mounds --why this curious shape ? Another beehive in a tree; from the tree hung red balls on stalks like Christmas tree decorations, the balls being composed of seeds like a dandelion clock.

We passed the large cocoa plantation village of Meiganga, with pawpaw trees as well. Many villages hereabouts sport artistic decorations on the walls. Often merely white spots or random lines of paint flinging, but also some more geometric patterns in colours and even a few pictures of people and animals. Some houses completely whitewashed over the usual mud colour. Undulating and interesting countryside all day. We had a good view of a large dark brown male baboon, very slow to move off the road, and at lunchtime there were many sorts of butterfly, some a delicate iridescent blue. Several rivers with water. After the bridge over the river Lom tarmac road began again and we stopped to camp in a sort of layby near the village of Bongo. Not much choice because of deep ditches both sides of the road. Fitted a new fan belt, having noticed by chance a tear in the old one at one of our stops. The edges of the road are often strewn with a white vegetable substance laid out to dry. Manioc as we later learnt, a staple flour crop.

For supper a pineapple; or rather half a pineapple, between the six of us. "Daddy said it was the biggest and best he had ever had," says Peter. Yes, not only the biggest but also the juiciest and sweetest. We had bought it in Ngaoundere from a man on a passing bicycle who had grown it himself (or so he said). Even Marion is enjoying a bit more food now and gradually getting back to normal activities; she reckons her illness now over, but still feeling rather weak.

Jan 11.

Bo noticed that the whites of Marion's eyes had turned yellow. So it would seem that her illness had, in fact, been hepatitis. So Dr. Wilkins at Highley had failed us; he had refused to provide the gamma globulin we needed for protection, and we had not pressed the matter. He had, after all, provided us with all our other requirements.

We headed for the border town of Garoua-Boulai, where we bought bananas, cocoyams and meat from a limited market and filled up to our maximum petrol capacity from a hand pump, one of those once familiar ones where each gallon is laboriously pumped by hand up to a reservoir whence it drops by gravity to the tank. I had certainly never bought 50 gallons by such a time consuming method before. We had been warned that petrol would be more expensive in future.

And so we drove into the CENTRAL AFRICAN REPUBLIC (CAR), or la Republique Centrafricaine (l'RCA) and a day of delays. No special difficulties despite our Cameroun and CAR visas being out of date The first CAR check was ten miles into the country at Beliko, the next 30 miles later at Baboua at which vaccination certificates were inspected, and we still have to have visas renewed after two days. Here also there was great merriment among the occupants of a bus, and before I was allowed in to the office I was ordered to put my shirt on. I had hardly worn a shirt in Cameroun.

At tonight's roadside camp site we had a fair sized group of young onlookers, mostly girls while the boys played football. After supper Peter, Jennifer and I played football and some of them joined in when the ball came their way. At dusk they all disappeared with a chorus of 'au revoir' and 'bonsoir'. But later three youths appeared with a selection of interesting things for sale -- a baby baboon, a hornbill's beak, a bow and arrows and a spear. They politely left on accepting our plea that we had no money until we reached Bangui. We hope this friendliness continues; Britain and CAR (an ally of Uganda) are not the greatest of friends, we believe. The second half of our monster pineapple was nearly too much for us at supper time -- but not quite ! At an earlier stop we had enjoyed a game of 'Pooh Sticks' on a high bridge over a stream; the first time ever played in CAR?

Jan 12.

The morning found us all sleeping under the awning. Our first rain of the tropics had started descending on us at 3am; only lightly but inconvenient without tents.

Only 60 miles before lunch; road surface not good with hills and bends. Savannah country now giving way to occasional thick jungle undergrowth and large trees specially in the river valleys. Many bridges made of a few cross timbers with longitudinal planks on top to form two tracks for the wheels. We saw two parties of driver ants, perhaps 200 of them, making their way in columns carrying their larvae with them.

We spent over three hours in Bouar. First a police barrier, then a visit to the police station and a long wait for the Commissaire himself to stamp and sign our passports. By this time we were already halfway through cooking an early supper, not wanting to waste more time. We had not been expecting any check here. It was 5 o'clock by the time we stopped to camp 20 miles farther on. Just as we stopped more rain began with distant thunder, or, as Peter puts it "It was raining ! There was thunder too !! The first thunder since Spain !" So we put up the awning again, and the children's tent for the first time since Kano. It did not last long but has given us the feeling of having reached equatorial climes.

Jan 13.

No undue delays today, only several stops of our own choice. A little market shopping, photographing a family sorting cotton (not easy as people stop work or disappear at the sight of a camera), a stop by a river to look at butterflies, another in a village to watch bananas growing, another to buy some, another to buy meat which had not been available in the market.

Lunch was also by a river with more butterflies. The butterflies are truly wonderful and are present in their thousands; many sorts and colours. About half of them brown that Marion identified as Libythea Labdaca, but also five different swallowtail varieties: Papilio Dardanus,Graphium Pylades, a blue black and white one, a large yellow and black one, and one with very long black and white front wings, bright red tail wings and an orangeish abdomen. Many blue varieties of the Lycaenidae family and a few attractive small yellow ones. A creeper with bright purple-pink flowers climbs luxuriantly over the trees in these thickly forested jungly river valleys. More flowers of all sorts are now becoming a feature and many villages have flowering bushes or trees. Villages are numerous, but small, with more substantial houses than farther north, more efficient fences and a few cattle and goats. Many abandoned sites, but also much new building -- mud walls and thatched roofs. We learnt later that the continuous succession of roadside villages is because the people have been made, or at least encouraged, to move nearer the road. The abandoned-looking sites near the road are where some people have returned temporarily to their old haunts at the end of the dry season in the hope of finding some sustenance left in the more remote pastures.

We met a Swiss couple at our lunch place, also on their way to Kenya in a Volkswagen, and also travelling slowly. So we may well meet again. Two slight delays: at Bossemtele there was a road barrier; we envisaged another long wait for official action but a policeman let us through without formality Then we did meet the Swiss pair again, blocking the road behind a lorry which had slid into a ditch with a broken axle; they were not involved, merely chatting to the French driver.

We camped among a mass of the little mushroom shaped termite mounds. Timothy stung by a bee. Peter complaining of 'jaw ache' (toothache ?). Marion feeling much better but still a bit yellow-looking. We are travelling along the Lake Tchad-Congo watershed with extensive views in places over miles and miles of trees. Tomorrow -- and many more tomorrows -- we will be within the Congo basin. 115 miles today.

Curiously, there seem to be more transistor radios in CAR than we have seen in the rest of Africa.

Jan 14. Sunday.

Another good travelling day. Bought meat and bananas at Bossembele. Bananas a stock local product here, now a staple part of our diet. No complaints about this !

Why do so many place names begin with B ? A natural way to start a word perhaps. French speaking here seems to be more universal than English in Nigeria. More schools evident too.

Tonight's camp is on a state farm rice field (long harvested), near the river Mbali. Near enough to be pestered by too many mosquitoes. The children now have a net front to their tent, Bo hangs a net from her tent frame (without tent), and Marion and I rely so far on insect repellent. But not good enough; one of our worst nights camping ever. Fireflies, however, are far more attractive, lighting up the sky. There were also standard winged nightjars, an extraordinary sight. They look as if they have two little birds flying along behind them. A closer look makes one think these are long extensions of the tail, but are in fact two elongated wing feathers each with a 'standard' on its end.

130 miles to this 'mosquito rice field'.

Jan 15.

And so to BANGUI. The capital of CAR. A pleasant sophisticated modern town in the middle of the African Bush. There was a police and customs check eight miles before the town.

First stop, the post office for another welcome pile of letters -- for which we had to pay 30francs (5p) each. Then to the bank where, to our joy, we found 300 pounds waiting for us as hoped for. Useful for more breakdowns ! Then up the hill on the 'route du corniche' for lunch overlooking the river (Oubangui), but a potentially wide view spoilt by over-prolific vegetation. More butterflies in profusion; Marion made a net. Butterflies are an industry here; we had already been offered some beautiful ones sold neatly packaged in transparent bags. More business in the afternoon. To the immigration office for visa renewal, but only got as far as filling forms ready for another visit tomorrow. To the British Consulate to find that we cannot get Rwanda visas here but probably can at the border. Then to find a campsite by the river, which we did after much misdirecting; a piece of waste ground near the two big hotels, the 'Rock' and the 'Safari'. Not specially attractive, but free, and the river is safe for swimming. This is a great attraction, being free of bilharzia, we had been assured, because of its swift flow. We took this as true, and were soon swimming in this river Oubangui, the largest tributary of the Congo, in the middle of blackest Africa, with Zaire a mere half a mile away on the opposite bank, and paddle steamers and canoes cruising by. A situation that seemed barely possible only a year ago, when we first saw the name Bangui on the map.

Marion prepared an extra good supper; she curried a good joint of supermarket meat, and this was followed by another excellent pineapple. A 34-strong English party in two Bedford trucks also occupy the campsite on their way south.

Jan 16.

CAR visas now extended for ten days by buying 'fiscal stamps' from the finance office to be stuck into our passports by the immigration office. A misty day with little sun, cool and not too humid. More swimming and lunch on the beach, and "we had a jolly good sandcastle. When we had finished a black man came, admired it, and made a tunnel underneath. It was very good then," comments Peter. Marion still a bit weak; a game of 'Annie Annie over' over the van left her exhausted. We intend staying in and around Bangui in the hope that a new distributor will arrive sometime. A rest cure for Marion?

We noticed the American Embassy flag flying at half mast. An enquiry gave us our first news of President Truman's death on Boxing Day.

Jan 17.

I found the 'Carrosserie Parisienne', a useful place for welding work to reinforce the windscreen frame. I did other jobs while waiting, such as replacing more wheelstuds. More enjoyment of river and beach, shopping and washing. We were approached by various people wanting to buy: radios, cameras, camp chairs, shirts, and wanting to sell: pawpaws, lollipops (3p), sweets, avocados, pears, eggs (50p a dozen), and beautiful pictures made of butterfly wings (90p). The English party departed, soon to be replaced by several local hopefuls who dug up their rubbish looking for treasure. More vehicles arrived, four British, two Swiss and one Dutch. Marion made grapefruit and lemon marmalade, the first since finishing our original home made supply at Tamanrasset. My mouth waters.

Jan 18.

Grapefruit lemon marmalade for breakfast ! And pocket money day for the children, so a visit to toy shops. Peter: "I bought a Missile that fired with caps, and a Magic Picture book...We walked back. A bit later we had lunch, with soup. After lunch we went down to the beach and Mummy had a swim too." Jennifer bought a cardboard dressing doll with clothes, and Timothy a car and a colouring book. We also bought two of the butterfly wing pictures (as all tourists must), pictures of a parrot and a bunch of flowers. At midday in the marketplace communal radio blares out the day's news for all to hear and to make sure that everyone is up to date with the 'correct' version of national events.

We also made a visit to the Zaire Embassy to renew out of date visas (2 pounds 25 each). Our original ones now useless had cost 4 pounds 80 in London. We saw a grey headed kingfisher at the campsite; its brilliant flashing blue wings in flight make up for its dull name. A hotter day (35C), with no haze blocking the sun.

In the evening another van arrived -- Austrians complete with a young chimpanzee.

Jan 19.

A disturbed night. At 11.15pm we were awakened by our burglar alarm. The van door was open with padlock forced, and a figure was running off into the bushes. A quick inspection revealed nothing missing and we congratulated ourselves on having installed the alarm. Nevertheless I moved my sleeping quarters to beside the door after finding a new padlock. The real shock came in the morning when we discovered the non-existence of 80 pounds worth of Practika camera, telephoto lens and bag. This had been on the floor of the cab. The thief must have known exactly where it was to have grabbed it so swiftly after the alarm. Probably one of our many inquisitive visitors. The lesson learnt is 'do not camp in towns'.

But that was only disturbance number 1. At 5am Timothy woke everyone with diarrhoea and sickness, so that was the end of that night. Consequently the day was spent doing more washing than usual, keeping Timothy as happy as possible lying palely on a mattress, and visiting the police station and sending off insurance claim forms and statements. One of our less happy days.

However, we did get an afternoon of more swimming, and a boat trip for Peter, Jennifer and Bo in a pirogue. "A man came and said 'would you like a ride in my boat ', so we had one, it was very nice." Marion and the children went to play with the friendly chimpanzee. The Austrians had bought him in Uganda for $12 and had to pay $40 export duty from Zaire.

Tonight we do have the peace we now need. We have moved up on to the hill 1000ft. above the town on the 'route du corniche' again. A delightful jungle evening, a full moon shining behind the skyline of branches and a great chirrupping of grasshoppers all round. Peace compared with our riverside, hotelside, roadside crime scene of the previous few nights. At sunset several monkeys appeared in a bare tree and entertained us swinging through the branches expertly using their long prehensile tails for balancing.

But happiness not fully restored. Jennifer and Bo have slight feelings akin to Timothy's, and I have a swollen ankle in a crepe bandage. Marion now full of life again to cheer us up.

Jan 20.

Convalescence in the forest. Jennifer lying down all day, Timothy all morning with a quick recovery in the afternoon. My ankle worse; limping about, coupled with a feeling of complete tiredness possibly due to a combination of heat and ankle. Early to bed.

More fascinating monkey activity, leaping and swaying from branch to branch. Marion caught a few butterflies in her new net to start a collection, and made drawings of insects. A hot and lazy day.

Jan 21. Sunday.

A dramatic start to the day. 4.15am. Distant rumbling thunder suddenly made its closer presence known with a resounding clap. So up we got to erect the awning, and the flysheet on the children's tent. Within a few minutes the awning was demolished by a fierce wind accompanying the thunder and lightning now overhead. Marion struggled to hold the tent upright with the help of large stones, and got soaked to the skin, but soon we all retired defeated into the van and attempted to carry on sleeping for the last hour of the night.

6am. A delightfully fresh morning with a slight breeze. No monkeys; had we, or the storm, forced them to seek a change of residence? Another rest day, with schoolwork, and most of the rain-soaked bedding successfully drying by evening. Everyone's health improved except for mine -- increasing tiredness. Put up our tent to weather the next storm, but at midnight I was rudely awakened by a scourge of ants in my sleeping bag, and spent the rest of the night outside.

Jan 22.

"MY BIRTHDAY." That is to say, Peter's ninth. "Before breakfast Bo gave me a birthday card. At breakfast there was a small parcel on my plate; it was a pocket-knife from Daddy. For breakfast as well as cereal, I tried meusli, it was nice. Later we went into Bangui. Just before we went Jennifer gave me her card. When we came back from Bangui we had lunch. For lunch we had crisps. After lunch we played cards. Then we heard thunder in the distance and by the time we had everything in it was just starting to rain. This time it only rained, there was no thunder. It stopped in time for tea. For tea we had cakes. There were three different sorts; two Puff-Pastry with apple, and meringues."

So not perhaps the happiest birthday, but certainly by far the warmest, a hot and humid 37C, or 99F. And Marion not feeling quite so well again. On our trip down to Bangui, at the post office, Jennifer received a Christmas present from the Days. We noticed that it had arrived on Dec 26. The dim post restante clerk had not been able to deduce that it might be for us. We had passports only for Seaton and Marion Phillips, not one for Jennifer Phillips. Also a letter for us that had arrived on Jan 6, with no explanation why we had not been given it before. It had taken a remarkable five days only from Monmouth, and then 16 days to cross the post office counter. We then had fun at a French patisserie selecting the tasty items for Peter's birthday tea.

I was unwell enough in the morning for Bo to take my temperature and find it to be 102, but aspirin and penicillin were effective enough for me to enjoy the teatime patisseries.

Jan 23.

A day of little activity. Towards evening my temperature up to 100 again accompanied by aches in my legs. Spent much time reading 'A Safety Match' by Ian Hay, a great entertainment for such occasions, light and easily digested. And playing 'Scrabble', listening to tapes, and editing some of our African sounds.

The rest of the family walked down a jungle path from our camp to a viewpoint in the road below, in fact the only point for seeing the extensive view over Bangui and the river through the mass of trees. Beside the road is a huge neon CAR flag, a florid national emblem that dominates the whole town by night. A monkey troupe was actively demonstrating its gymnastic abilities again close to the path.

"For tea we had some very nice cakes that Bo had made."

Jan 24.

Very weak. A little breakfast followed by diarrhoea. No more food, no reading, lying on bed. The others went off in the van for the day.

Till 2pm. Then I was disturbed by the guard of a building site (a new television station) just above us. "Le camion de Madame est en panne," he informed me, and pointed down the road. So I had to walk down, not very far, to find our 'camion'. The engine had failed to restart after stopping for a lorry to pass. The fault seemed to be carburettor trouble as I suspected. I got a lift back up on a passing scooter and went back to bed. 'Madame' and the rest walked up with supplies for supper.

For the night Marion went down to sleep beside the vehicle. "As I write by the van," she writes, "enormous ants (nearly an inch long) keep on walking over my feet. I hope they go away before I go to bed on my mattress ! Perhaps the light attracts them."

Jan 25.

Marion managed to get a tow up to the camp as hoped for, from one of the road workmen's lorries which came up regularly each morning. I had had a very much better and undisturbed night, and, my temperature being normal, I investigated the carburettor. Not much luck, except to find some fault with the choke. A mostly resting day and eating a little, but more work in the hot sticky afternoon resulted in a temperature of 101 again by the time I went to bed at 6.30.

Marion saw more monkeys and tree squirrels in the early morning, and lists the great diversity of invertebrate life that surrounds us: More butterflies than ever (30-40 species noticed and 14 specimens caught), ants, praying mantises, beetles, caterpillars, dragonflies ready to pounce, moths, bees, spiders, termites, grasshoppers, fireflies, etc. The fireflies' flashes of light resemble a slow motion cine film with the insect moving in a series of jerks.

Few birds; we have seen only little flocks of sparrow look-alikes, larger black birds and the more spectacular hornbills. These are very large and fly in a hornbillish way, have white rear edges to the wings and white necks; otherwise black; they laugh.

Jan 26.

More work, and the engine was soon running perfectly, merely by adjusting choke control mechanism and cleaning plugs. The sort of thing that would have been so simple if we had had a proper mechanic with us. So the rest of the day was able to be more peaceful convalescence.

Marion instigated a painting competition. Subject: 'a highlight of the expedition'. Timothy chose 'on the boat from England to France'. Jennifer painted herself swimming in the river Oubangui with the greatest attention to detail in her colourful swimming costume. Peter did a comprehensive scene of varied activity on Lake Tchad -- fishing with spears, canoes sailing, being paddled and punted, including ourselves of course. Bo depicted the bonfire night on the beach in water colour. I attempted an impression of sunset at our enchanting desert campsite in the Mouydir mountains. Marion a vivid view of our present site with flowers and butterflies prominent in the foreground. For the sake of all-round contentment the judging of the competition was postponed until we get home. For the moment, six winners !

Another storm scare at supper time. Flysheets erected and things stowed in van, supper eaten in gathering gloom as a thundercloud rolled past. But no rain, and the evening brightened up at sunset. One of the workmen from the TV site came down to pick berries; little red ones like deadly nightshade or small bryony. 'Ndongo', he called them in Sango, 'pimard' in French. They are cooked and eaten with manioc. Should we try some in our present healthy condition ?

Jan 27.

I stayed 'at home' again. The others had a trip into town for weekend shopping. After getting water at a garage, Marion found Bo, purse in hand, about to pay 200 francs (40p) for it, as requested; she soon stopped that, as being an example of the taking advantage of women.

I did more reading and writing, and taking stock of my reading of the past four months. I found that have got through seven books, rather surprisingly. I seem to read less than the other two, and then often a manual or phrase book:

Thursday Afternoon (Monica Dickens).
Wind, Sand and Stars (Antoine de St. Exupery).
The Strange Land (Hammond Innes).
Castle Gay (John Buchan).
God's Smuggler (Brother Andrew).
A Safety Match (Ian Hay).
An Old Captivity (Nevil Shute).

I also dip into 'African Genesis' again occasionally. I waded a little way through 'Cancer Ward', a long Russian Solzhenitsyn, but found it too depressing, and started 'The Hobbit', but it seemed so like 'The Lord of the Rings' that I refrained from being transported into that world again. The present one is fantastic enough sometimes. I now launch into 'My Cousin Rachel' (Daphne du Maurier).

Marion caught two more butterflies, one a 'blue' with three very long tails and an iridescent sheen. Another attractive one seen in the shady woodland is pure white with a flimsy appearance; it glides among the grass stems with occasional wing flaps, and really is very graceful. She also painted a silhouette picture of an attractive tree against a night sky, inspired by seeing Orion through it as she lay on her camp bed last night.

Jan 28, Sunday.

A 'day out' for us all except Marion. Down to the river for a swim, but, being Sunday, cars, motor boats, water skiers and too many people did not attract us, so we then moved on down-river to a good lunch place beside the Mpoko tributary where the others had been two days before. A nice shady spot but no swimming. During the afternoon we had a visitor; a local schoolmaster, who brought his own chair over to sit and talk with us. He was fascinated by our travels and why we were here. It turned out that he owned a camp site across the Mpoko on the bank of the Oubangui and was longing to take us across the ferry to see it. So he did. Peter has a picture of the ferry (a sort of raft), and writes "When we got across he showed us a place to camp. When we got back...he bought us some bananas. Then we were going to take him back to his school. When we got to his school he bought us some Mocas Fizzy Orange and wanted to come to our campsite. Timothy made friends with him. He said our campsite was a bad place and his better."

In the evening we were visited by the Rousseau family; French, with five children; we had met the father in the morning. He works in administration at the airport. So we had much interesting talk (in English). They have been living here for a year or more.

But I had had rather too active a day and had a high temperature again by now.

Jan 29 - Jan 31.

Three inert days for me, as I lay on my bed, ate virtually nothing and thought I might be wasting away to less than nothing. Infective hepatitis diagnosed by Bo, caught from Marion but with greatly increased virility. Complete, complete lassitude

So, the story continues, for the moment, with the rest of the party.

Marion went down to Bangui on foot, giving her the opportunity to study many plants, flowers, bushes and trees of interest. Some huge trees up to 200 feet tall, many of them covered with huge parasitic growths of two green tongues hanging out of a brown sheath. At one point "I suddenly stopped when I realised there were monkeys close at hand crossing the track. One came to 7 or 8 yards from me and sat on a branch looking at me and eating an occasional leaf. After a couple of minutes it climbed a thin branch, rocked back and forwards to gain momentum and leapt lightly up to another sapling, and on up and up. Two others came quite near. One was young, about 12 inches long, but the adults more like 18 inches, with a tail twice as long again. They made a grunting noise and also a sort of squeak like the 'mi' of miaow."

After supper they had a bonfire of rubbish with the children making flaming torches with sticks -- the normal bonfire games.

Jan 30.

Another day in and around camp. A nature study walk for the children, with flowers, leaves, fruit, spiders, leafminers, ants and butterflies. One strange tree had little fruit like apples growing on short stalks straight out of the trunk. Another had a spiny trunk. A third had a trunk that divided in various places and then rejoined. A prickly spider was in a web suspended from branches 20 feet apart. Marion made a drawing of this and the children wrote up their finds. She and Peter did some estimating of heights of trees.

Peter sums up an inactive afternoon. "We got five packs of cards out. I played Marriages with Mummy, then I played Beggar-My-Neighbour with Timothy and another game with Jennifer. Then I played sevens patience. Then Jennifer and I played Casino together. Quite soon it was teatime." How sensible of us to have five packs of cards.

Jan 31.

A minor mishap: two tins of coffee and muesli were missing from the roof of the van; possibly having rolled off, but never found.

The family had a pleasantly surprising encounter in Bangui; they recognised a familiar Volkswagen van and soon met the Italian couple, the Guidos, with whom we had travelled in convoy from In Salah to Tamanrasset. As a result they came up to our camp in the evening and stayed the night. Much talk over coffee. After seeing far more of West Africa than we had, they were about to travel on by boat down the Oubangui to Brazzaville tomorrow and on by road to South Africa.

Marion increased her butterfly collection to 28 different species, including the large green and black swallowtail that had eluded her till now.

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