Bonjour Ivory Coast!

After a few brave people ventured out in the past two days and confirmed the safety of the place and the surroundings, Cheena, chief officer and I decided to step out today. We thought we were well prepared, but nothing could have prepared us for the stink of this place. You know how every place has a smell? You don’t? Well, I do. Chennai smells like the sun, Mumbai smells of dirt, Bangalore smells like diluted smoke and cold, Venice smells like algae… and Abidjan smells like… how women smell like during their periods rotten fish left to rot. 

We were told that we were passing through the fish storage area, but later I realised that the smell lingered almost throughout the city. I guess you could get used to it after a while, but we all couldn't help but cover our noses. An article that is read in BootSnall kinda sums up my feelings – “Abidjan is so bad, that it leaves your clothes and shoes smelling – basically you’re glad to get away from the place, and dread going back.”

Our companion was a guy called Ali, an immigrant from Ghana who is making a living here by doing odd jobs in the port like escorting the seamen when they go out, selling phone cards and internet cards, procuring provisions and so on. Apparently, he Presidential Palace (called The Flagstaff House) in Ghana was constructed by an Indian contractor. The Indian government gave a $30 million loan for the construction of the building. He also enquired about our "PM Modi, from Gujarat". Wow. Either Modi is super famous or he read up on India to impress us.

The vehicles were dirty, but the roads are ALL well-laid

Ali haggled with the cab driver, not unlike how I deal with Chennai’s autowallahs, and we were huddled into a cab that was playing Arab music. Abidjan is the second largest French speaking city in the world, only second to Paris. Although French is the official language of Ivory Coast, there are about 60 different languages/dialects that are spoken here. The city has about 38% Muslims and 30% Christians.  I have something to confess – until now, I had assumed that Islam was restricted to the Gulf and Middle-East.

Our only stop today was Cap Sud, the most modern shopping centre in Abidjan, as good as any of the malls that we have in India. Almost all our money was spent in Hyper Hayat, the biggest supermarket in Abidjan. We were pretty surprised to find such a good place to shop here and spent all our money there. We ate at a pizzeria, which served really good pizza, and with our bags and stomachs full, we left the mall contented. The bill for 4 petite sized pizzas and coke came to 15,500 CFA.

 

The mall was swag!

The cops caught us on our way back. The poor man just wanted to make some money I guess. But we had proper documents and we had Ali, so he had to let us go. The men said that this was the time that something like this has ever happened in all their years of sailing and traveling. I wonder if it was my luck.

We got back to the ship through the fish storage and stink again. When we sat down to do the hisaab, we figured that Ali had cheated us with the money exchange. He gave us 450 CFA for $1, but a quick Google search told us that the exchange rate was somewhere above 560 CFA. Ada paavigala!

Lesson learnt: Always withdraw money from ATM.