Waking early as usual I didn’t get the sunrise as the jungle here is dense and the canopy high, it’s keeps the heat and moisture in and some of the sun out.

I Saw the Spaniard whilst I was getting the bike prepared for the day but when I came to leave he was nowhere to be seen, so I left alone.

The roads were as challenging as yesterday for the first 25km but I was rested and fresh and handled them steadily with respect for the bike. I had a conveywith the jungle camp owner who told me that the road was ok for one of the coastal borders, I expect it’s a matter of local reality because OK in my understanding may well have been different from his!

Anyway I’m on my way by 8.00am and heading for the border to cross into Guinea. I come to a junction and buy coffee and bananas from a local lady, she had shouted at me and I turned and went back as she had a friendly demeanour.

The next junction was to lead to the border, I had read it was narrow and overgrown and that was an understatement. The jungle track was out of the history books and I wondered what I was letting myself in for.

I eventually reached the exit from Bissau and had my papers checked, my route planning was going well and I followed the track to the entry point for Guinea it was 17km of tight and twisty track through dense jungle which followed a ‘road’ the road was frequently flooded and the track I followed was a mix of very tough road to deep sand and single path through the jungle. There were many small river crossings, some had spindly bridges others you rode through. Each and every one was shallow then terribly deep for a short plunge often filling my boots with water and soaking me to the skin. I was already wet through with sweat after man handling the bike over the very challenging terrain in 35 degree heat.

on one occasion I looked at the foot bridge and decided it wasn’t good and plunged deep into the mud alongside. It took me over an hour to man handle the bike out of the glutinous mud and get it back on firmer ground. The bridge May have been ok but I didn’t want to take the risk at the time, wish I had though!

I was forced to haul the bike out and head into the jungle, it was like riding on thick custard with a hard skin, I could feel the ground flexing under the bike and I was praying that I didn’t make the wrong move and fall through. I did get out but I was totally exhausted and needed to cool off. The water available was green so I couldn’t do anything about it. I rode on.

I cannot explain how hard the riding was, snaking through the jungle bogging in deep mud then the next thing riding through deep sand, the bike was doing a sterling job and just kept plodding on, when I needed power I had to give it everything but still I kept coming out the other side.

Eventually I came to an obstacle I couldn’t get over myself, a river! I went to the first crossing place but there was nothing there, whilst I was contemplating the next move 50K back in the same direction and all the problems that would present, a local came down to the river and explained that there was a bateau up river, so I set off to find that.

After a short ride I arrived to find a massive Unimog style truck blocking the way, I struggled to get by this as my panniers kept snagging on the truck, I think it had gearbox issues as when I did get past there was a huge gearbox in the track behind.

I arrived at the ferry crossing and started to negotiate my crossing, I must say that I was a little apprehensive as the canoe was really quite small and my bike looked quite big. Eventually we reached an agreement , now came the fun part.

I had to unload the bike which is a bit of a faff but needs must. So with the bike unloaded we proceeded to lower the bike down the steep ramp backwards and onto the canoe. The young lads helping knew their stuff, a boy of about 10 years old clicked the bike into gear and instructed me to operate the clutch. It was touch and go but eventually the bike was hauled into the canoe and he just meant it on the side. The canoe was made of hardwood and had obviously done this many times before. All the gear was then hauled down the slope and we were on our way across the wide and steadily flowing river, my heart was in my mouth but I should have relaxed, they really did know their stuff. As we left the slipway other bikes arrived to cross, I noticed that his paddle was a stick with a flat bit of 25ltr plastic oil drum nailed to the end. I picked up a stick and helped. The crossing was fine and I washed my face in the cool river water as we progressed.

we literally hit the other bank and unloaded the luggage. Next was the bike, I rode the bike out of the canoe and up a steep and slippery slope with relative ease. I was back on dry land! I had thought of the consequences had the canoe tipped over but in the end all was well.

I took the time to strip off and have a quick swim in the river, I was so hot and needed to cool off. More bikes arrived for the crossing and I was told my money was small so I just paid the boy again, this was met with much approval.

it took some time to reload the bike and I readied myself for the onward journey. The track was difficult at first but eventually became much better. I had been riding in extreme conditions since 8.00am and it was now almost 3.00pm and I still have about three hours left to go.

As the jungle opened up the road became quite good, the surface in Guinea was very different, instead of deep sand and mud it became rock and gravel. The gravel is round, like small marbles, and it took a little getting used to. Soon I was light with the bike and letting it move around. I was getting up some good speed and saw the miles pass by. The roads continued to improve but beware there is the occasional gully and water crossing and again they are deep and rocky too!

Some time later the road really opens up and I’m making good progress, I’m heading for Boke’ and at the end of the gravel road I have about four miles of paved road to my destination.

I head into town and get stopped by the police, they are kind and friendly and although they check everything, they do this with good humour and the wish me well for my journey.

Into Boke’ and the traffic thickens, I ride straight into the museum where I plan to stay for the night. They are welcoming and offer me a place to put up my tent inside a conference room. It may sound grand but believe me it was not!

I have a bucket shower in murky river water, go out to change money, have a cup of tea in a plastic bag from the money changer, eat chicken and some sort of salad in a local restaurant lit by an LED torch which is removed part way through the meal and intimately share the accommodation with a couple of the staff who sleep on the tables.

One of the staff makes drums and he composes a song about my journey in the local lingo. We sit outside and watch an impressive electrical storm, the rainy season is due to end in seven days time apparently! It’s not finished yet though as we rush inside under a tropical rainstorm.

Im ready for my sleep and say my goodnights, sleeping this time in my tent, in a museum and for once in my clothes. what on earth will tomorrow bring, I have no idea?

I wake in the morning to find my last t shirt has been stolen, it was not in a good state so I don’t care and move on.