Crossing a series of quaint arched metal-paved bridges, we were treated to African life on the river edges below as kids played in the water and women beat washing dry on the rocks. It looked idyllic.
Our destination for the night was Conakry, the capital of Guinea.
As we rode into the city outskirts, Gary's radiator gave up entirely. It had been leaking for some time and Gary had been stopping every 50km to refill the radiator. Fortunately a roadside mechanic directed us to a radiator doctor who (after three failed attempts) managed to braze a patch over the leaking section.
Whilst this was underway, Ty entertained the locals with a series of ever more outlandish lies, not realising that many of the group were face-booking his comments live. As a direct result, nearly three hundred people showed up to meet this superstar in the flesh. The police attended to quell the mob (literally) and he barely escaped with the clothes on his back.
James and I had escaped earlier to find a hotel for the night, so Ty and Gary were left to ride together to our nominated coordinates. This should have been an easy activity had the pair not encountered a bolshy taxi driver who ended up clipping Gary's bike deliberately and pitching him into the street. The taxi bolted quickly, leaving Ty and passers-by to pick up Gaz, dust him off, and put him back on two wheels.
Despite a minor bingle, this was a lovely day on the bikes and we are looking forward to entering Sierra Leone tomorrow.
