<\/p>\n\n\n\n
First of all, I need to tell you about Fr\u00e9do. He\u2019s a former colleague who became a friend, originally from Togo.
Fredo has two or three huge flaws: he\u2019s too kind, he cooks far too well, and he has an excessive sense of hospitality. In short, a truly dreadful fellow, as you can well imagine.
Twenty-five years ago, when I had decided to make my very first trip around Africa, he invited me \u2013 along with a few other colleagues \u2013 to dinner at his place. Back then, I knew almost nothing about Africa \u2013 except through the stories told by my old teacher \u2013 and even less about its cuisine.
He cooked us chicken yassa. It was the VERY FIRST CHICKEN YASSA of my life.
It was so good that everyone helped themselves \u2013 generously \u2013 to a second plate. To be fair, Fr\u00e9do had planned ahead. But just as we were all finishing our second helping, he innocently announced: \u201cBy the way, I forgot to tell you, but there\u2019s a suckling pig as the second course\u2026\u201d General shock. A schemer, I told you.
Needless to say, the pig was excellent too. But I think I must have rolled my way back to the car. Yes, yes, rolling BEFORE even getting into the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When we arrived in Ouidah, the voodoo town of Benin, 25 years ago, I noticed while riding behind my friend Alain that his 600 XT was smoking. After checking it out, we discovered that the piston rings needed replacing. No small task, especially since we first had to find a way to get the parts shipped over without bankrupting ourselves.
Fr\u00e9do was the one who came up with the plan thanks to the Togolese connection. The precious package was handed over at the airport to a Togolese traveler heading home, who was tasked with delivering it to us upon arrival.
Around the same time, I realized that my helmet was completely worn out. It had already seen better days before I left, but a few months in Africa finished it off.
At the time, Schuberth had just released a helmet featuring an interesting innovation: a retractable sun visor.
The problem was that I was no longer sure of my head size. I guessed a size 58 and asked another friend and colleague \u2013 Christophe \u2013 (these days he\u2019s apparently involved with the Russian mafia and gets regularly whipped by the godfather in the family spa, but that\u2019s another story) to buy the helmet for me. Which he did.
Then he handed the helmet over to Fr\u00e9do, who gave it \u2013 together with the piston rings \u2013 to the Togolese courier. We received everything without any issues.
Alas! Nothing is ever simple with me, and the helmet turned out to be too big. In fact, I needed a size 57. No matter, we sent it back to France using exactly the same method. Fr\u00e9do recovered it and passed it on to Christophe, who exchanged it at the shop (without mentioning that it had taken a little detour through Togo and Benin).
Then the new helmet made its way back to Togo, once again following the same modus operandi. But this time, along with the helmet, there was also a fork tube for my motorcycle. Thanks to my legendary clumsiness, I had broken the brake caliper mount. Jean Castera took care of sending one from his stockpile of second-hand BMW R100 GS parts to Fredo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was 25 years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
More recently, two years ago, seeing the difficulties Baptiste was having finding reasonably recent tires (I\u2019m not even saying new, just recent) in Lom\u00e9 or Cotonou, I decided to plan ahead \u2013 yes, it does happen sometimes \u2013 rarely, I admit, but sometimes \u2013 and have tires shipped from France.
Once again, I called on Fredo, who successfully handled the mission, and I picked up a huge bubblegum-pink package at the airport.
But at the time, on a sudden whim, I decided one Sunday morning to go to Martinique. I boarded a plane that very evening and left everything behind (the bike and the pink package) at Madame Ang\u00e8le\u2019s place.
I only came back a few months later, intending \u2013 I don\u2019t know if you remember \u2013 to head back toward Senegal rather than continue directly onward.
So I returned at the time with a new rear tire \u2013 the front one was still good \u2013 in order to save the tires from the pink package for my trip down to South Africa.
Which meant I left the pink package \u2013 along with a small suitcase \u2013 at Madame Ang\u00e8le\u2019s place for the second time.
And so, two years later, I finally grabbed my beautiful package, loaded it onto a tricycle taxi, and went off to finally have those beautiful tires mounted on Ladypink.
That\u2019s how I ended up involved in this diaper-smuggling operation.
Imagine our surprise (the mechanic\u2019s and mine) when we discovered an entire stash of BRAND-NEW diapers hidden among the tires!!
Disbelief\u2026 amusement\u2026 what on earth was this?
So last night I contacted Fr\u00e9do to ask him about it\u2026 \u201cAHHHH, so THAT\u2019S where the diapers were!\u201d They had been intended for his sister, but nobody had realized they were inside the tires \u2013 poor communication \u2013 and everyone had assumed they were lost.
The icing on the cake: Fr\u00e9do happens to be passing through Lom\u00e9.
So he\u2019s coming to Cotonou on Tuesday to recover the goods \u2013 I mean, the diapers. It\u2019ll also be an opportunity to see each other again, since it\u2019s been around ten years since we last crossed paths.
I was supposed to leave tomorrow, Monday\u2026 so once again I\u2019m postponing things, and I\u2019ll head off on Wednesday instead.
The bike has brand-new shoes. The little bags on my panniers have new straps, I picked up a new pair of pants, there\u2019s a nice (and expensive) Nigerian visa in my passport, and today I turn 64\u2026
Tuesday evening, I\u2019ll head back to the beach for the weekly open-air movie night, hoping this one doesn\u2019t once again end beneath a tropical downpour.
In short, life is beautiful.
The photo used as illustration was taken 20 years ago by Fredo during an evening at his place. It shows Maty, my ex-wife.
Tutto va bene!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
First of all, I need to tell you about Fr\u00e9do. He\u2019s a former colleague who became a friend, originally from Togo.Fredo has two or three huge flaws: he\u2019s too kind, he cooks far too well, and he has an excessive sense of hospitality. In short, a truly dreadful fellow, as you can well imagine.Twenty-five years ago, when I had decided to make my very first trip around Africa, he invited me \u2013 along with a few other colleagues \u2013 to dinner at his place. Back then, I knew almost nothing about Africa \u2013 except through the stories told by my old teacher \u2013 and even less about its cuisine.He cooked us chicken yassa. It was the VERY FIRST CHICKEN YASSA of my life.It was so good that everyone helped themselves \u2013 generously \u2013 to a second plate. To be fair, Fr\u00e9do had planned ahead. But just as we were all finishing our second helping, he innocently announced: \u201cBy the way, I forgot to tell you, but there\u2019s a suckling pig as the second course\u2026\u201d General shock. A schemer, I told you.Needless to say, the pig was excellent too. But I think I must have rolled my way back to the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":12918,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[258,248],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12919","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-season-3-2026-africa","category-world-trip-2023"],"yoast_head":"\n