Convoy Through Cameroon: A Day of Waiting and Night Riding to Douala
Location: Buea to Douala, Cameroon
Boxing Day turned into one of the longest days of my journey. I met Marek, a fellow traveler on a BMW 450 with Swedish and Estonian passports, at the hotel. What should have been a simple morning departure turned into an all-day wait at the police station and gendarmerie.
The Long Wait
After exchanging my 60,000 naira, we arrived at the police station around 9:30 AM, expecting to leave soon. I finally got my passport back, stamped with my December 25th entry date, which was a relief. We were then escorted to the gendarmerie, just a block away, where we had to register again for the convoy.
Then the waiting began. Hours passed as we waited for other vehicles to join us. Meanwhile, the police were celebrating promotions with a pig roast scheduled for 3 PM. We’d hoped to leave by noon, but that wasn’t happening.
Finally Moving at 4:30 PM
The convoy vehicles finally arrived around 4:30 PM—armed guards with helmets, guns, and life vests, clearly taking security seriously. Three armored vehicles would escort us: one in front, one in the middle, and one in back. But leaving this late meant we’d be driving mostly in the dark.
The Challenging Drive
The paved roads quickly deteriorated into bumpy, unpaved sections demanding constant vigilance. Every pothole was a potential disaster. As darkness fell, I lost sight of what could have been beautiful scenery, focused entirely on navigating by headlight.
About an hour and a half in, one convoy vehicle left. It was just Marek, myself, and one other car. The roads got worse—not just unpaved, but seriously bumpy. You couldn’t go fast without risking damage to your vehicle.
Night Driving
When I fell behind on the better sections because of my headlights, someone suggested I let someone else drive. I declined immediately—I’ve come this far on my own. “How much longer?” I asked. “Another three hours,” they said. We’d already been driving for more than three hours.
Things improved once I could follow the lead vehicle’s lights. The final three hours were long but manageable. Even in Douala itself, the roads were a patchwork of good and bad sections—over and over again.
Finding Rest
Marek had found a hotel in Buea, but the GPS led us on a wild goose chase through back roads. We finally located it late in the evening—a worthwhile place at a reasonable price, though it took far too much effort to find.
After an intense day, the most important thing was this: we arrived safely. That was the major victory of this whole journey.
