The CRF is still unwell so I decide to take a break and take up an offer to spend some time in a local village. The ride is around 2 hours African time away and I take a Moto taxi for the journey

It’s an interesting ride and on the way my rider gets arrested for not having a driving licence.

The Police at the checkpoint are very egressive with my driver but very kind to me. The Police Sergeant is a young woman and takes a shine to me, she gives me her number and I butter her up a bit and she releases my driver and we continue!

At the Police checkpoint there is a huge roll of pipe and there is lots of activity, I asked what the pipe was for and find out that they are laying fibre optic cable for 120 kms, the metre deep trench is being dug by hand, yes for 120 kms!

We ride on and see the wreck of a military tank at the side of the road, apparently it was a British tank that was captured and burned during the war in 1991.

Arriving at the village I am met by Father Weir of the Catholic Church. There are a lot of people arriving for an African wedding and I am invited to attend.

This is an incredible experience and I am welcomed by the congregation. What a privilege to be accepted and invited to such an important occasion, had my bike been well I would never have had this opportunity so every cloud has a silver lining.

The very lengthy service finally comes to an end and everyone moves on to continue the celebration.

I am provided with accommodation and looked after well. I talked extensively with the Father about world events and my travels, no one can quite believe that I have travelled here by motorcycle and it creates quite a stir in the community.

The night rolls on and I meet many people, they are very kind and look after me well.

The wedding party send food and beer for the fathers and myself.

Retiring for the night I am comfortable and safe.

Waking in the morning the Father and myself continue our discussions, we talk about the project in Damballa and he expresses concern about the organisation in the village, this community is within his home diocese and I give him the contact details of the headmaster, Mr Bassi. He calls him and it appears that they know each other, they agree to talk later after Mass.

I decide to attend Mass myself to continue my experience of the community, it’s very different from home and again it’s a very lengthy process. The Father uses my visit in his teachings saying very good things about me and my journey, I have to stand during the service for people to see who I am, I’m a little embarrassed but comply.

Later I have lunch with Reverend John and the Father, we discuss diet and compare the different cultures which is interesting, Reverend John decides that my clothes need washing and provides me with African clothing, ‘today you will dress as an African ‘ I don’t have much choice as he whisks my clothes away!

I meet with the Sisters from CAFOD and discuss the issues in Sierra Leone around teenage pregnancy. They want to work with me to try and support young girls who’s families don’t have the finance to board in the school lodgings. These are the girls who board in town but don’t have enough support to feed themselves, they get over this problem by falling into prostitution and inevitably fall pregnant, this causes them to quit school and the whole process of deprivation starts which if difficult to address.

I agree to look at this and see if there is something we can work together on to try and make a difference. The sisters are lovely people and the work that they do really does change things for those in their care. They do many other things like support business development and encouragement to develop long term sustainable strategies for individuals.

I don’t know how I can help but this may be something that I could be interested in in the long term?

So here I am, dressed in African clothing passing the time of day on the churches veranda. This journey has taken a different route to the one I envisaged but it’s fine, I’m realising future opportunities and this could be the start of something new.

If my bike isn’t fixed by Wednesday I’m going to have to seriously rethink my journey. I have a plan, the bike is my only current form of transport but it won’t end my journey.

I just had a call and it appears that it can’t be fixed here, I’m currently looking at shipping the bike back home and will update you all later.

This isn’t the end of my adventure though, I still have around a month left. I’m going to continue on foot and any other transport I can find. It’s a real shame I’m not going to be on the bike but I can’t do much about that now.

My regular clothes are whisked away as they are too dirty.

The visit to Pendemba Village

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