Than is farther than
with terrible off road terrain. "Public educational institution of pitches, pitches, pitches", instructively are told me by the frontier guard. I grin, inspecting that is necessary to me. On such "to road" not that quickly, it is very slowly difficult to go even to a jeep. And I on a sedan. 50 kilometers to the next city as on a minefield make the way, and asphalt begins only then. Here it, happiness, and speed is 100 kilometers per hour!
the Happiness was short. "Follow on highway" — usmeshlivo the navigator advises. I estimated sarcasm almost at once as soon as curtailed according to its help from Gaoal. Asphalt as sharply ended, as well as appeared, and as highway was called wide, but the primer defeated utterly. It was narrowed by places to a track, turned into naked stones, failed in immense pools. There can be it only a small site, calm itself, and everything will end soon. But here already and day declines, and becomes expensive only worse. Average speed – 20 km/h. I am overtaken by local taxi drivers, loaded load volume is three times more, than their cars. You will not spend on drink skill, I note about myself, being surprised with their phenomenal ability to fly on primers with such freight. "Tar, tar" — shows one of them on a point in my navigator. It is Boke, to it 160 more km. After all it is though also it is far.
In twilight I am attached bybehind a jeep and I follow in the tracks of it. Too not quickly, but it is not necessary to get accustomed fixedly to road, and speed increased to 40 km/h. To the 7th evening was tired strongly, after all the day before two days too passed on off road terrain and the broken asphalt. I stop on spending the night directly on road – neither the cities, nor the village nearby is not present. Rare cars still passed by within half an hour, but also they ceased to shine then road with fires, and I fell asleep in total darkness.
In the childhood me the same dream as if I run on road, which all in deep holes often dreamed. I jump over them or I bend around not to fail, and I run, I run, I run, I will not wake up yet. This night holes too dreamed me. Infinite. I bent around them, and went, went, went, dawn did not begin to dawn yet.
By noon the next day I already skillfully maneuveredbetween buyerakami and slopes. To treasured Boke there were some kilometers when I saw at roads a mosque. Beautiful, stone, small. The internal voice prompted to stop. I cover with a shawl, I ask for permission to enter from the man who have met on a threshold. Long sat on a floor of a mosque silently as if someone held by a hand.
After four days of a driving on cruel primers I honestly was going to make bya pause in the capital Guinea, Region of Conakry. But the Universe solved in a different way and threw to me strike to Boke. I got to the epicenter. While was delighted that good asphalt began and pressed a gas pedal, in hope quickly to reach quickly the next ATM and gas station. Remained any 5 km.
Ya many times saw such at cinema, read in books and in newspapers. I admit, and now it occurred as at cinema. As if and not with me at all. Or with me, but on the cinema hall screen, and I play there a role of the Russian tourist who has got to whirlpool of rough events, West Africa.
Ya were pressed sharply by a brake pedal when saw mad youth with sticks and stones. Backing, attempt to be developed, got stuck a back wheel in the stormwater drainage. Teenagers of 14-17 years flied towards to sudden production, surrounded, began to pull handles of the blocked doors. Unsuccessful attempts to open the car excited furious crowd even more strongly, cobble-stones departed to glasses.
my desperate shout Made sober nothing thinking people. I looked in the face to one of them through the broken window and shouted as mother rescuing the child from a certain death. As the trainer at decisive sports competitions, helping the pupil to become the first. I saw confusion, a regret and even a fault gleam in the opinion of the teenager, his hand unclenched a stone and that departed under wheels. The pack of robbers grabbed everything that was in the eyes in salon, and disappeared probably to divide production.
I Believe, we were rescued only with that in the car was than to profit. Then already I was told about two victims and tens wounded people, burned cars.
Under escort of local police me accompanied to university to Boke, there was professor who is knowing Russian. To me explained that in the city there is no electricity some days, and it means that there is no water, food, and the main thing — works. The people rebelled, dissatisfied with the authorities.
Care of us were assumed by local administration and journalists. Us placed in university, its territory is protected. Brought drinking water and hot food. "It is necessary to wait, usually disorders go two-three days" — convinced me.
the Correspondent of local radio incessantly called someone and suddenly transferred a tube to me. I heard the Russian speech. It was so unexpected that I asked again, whether I was mistaken. No, it was the employee of the Russian Integrated company "Rossiysky alyuminy" — development of a boksitovy field here is conducted. And it was the first phone to which the journalist managed to phone.
Should pay tribute to courage of local journalists. They shine events in the city quickly and truthfully, I am delighted with their work. The help to "stranger" in such situation threatens with troubles. Children left me the phone that I was in touch. Further everything earned as if by magic. "Integrated company "Rossiysky alyuminy"" prevailed me and Greta under protection. With me general director personally spoke, was convinced that I in an order and found out that is necessary for me. The chief of service of safety Alexander together with the armed gendarmes broke through the blocked sites of the road to take away us on the territory of the Russian companies. His driver, faultless François, filled my Hyundai with Elantra gasoline and conducted it 120 km under heavy rain, without glasses.
Week I carried outwaiting when disorders will stop and the route to the capital will open. All this time felt as in a summer camp. In the closed territory of the inhabited settlement where us evacuated, the schedule and rules. I have a rest, I recover, I chew bananas, I play volleyball. I recover under supervision of doctor Sergey — I began terrible quinsy and I lost a voice. And Greta is where to clear up, I release her to run without lead on fields. The settlement in 35 km from Sangaredi, the small lovely town. Here I get new phone and some necessary personal belongings instead of the stolen. On Sunday a sortie in local restaurant, acquaintance to his hospitable and bright keeper. Admiration of the local juggler virtuoso.
At last good news arrive: disorders stopped, departure is allowed. Holes of my car gaping instead of glasses stuck with a dense film, allocated the driver for maintenance that I did not take yet the wheel. We with Greta took place in the car of the chief of service of safety.
the Most touching moment on my travel. "It to you to road" — the severe chief of service of safety passed the black bread baked with own hand. Also presented an icon for traveling, with parting word words. Fatherlike this care was such, I felt again the daughter.
While we go to Boffe, I reflect that is direct now for me absolutely new level of trust opens. While it is difficult to me to master it. And this compelled pause — opportunity to make it.
In Boff us were transferred to hands of the representative of consulate by Russian Federation in Guinea. We go to Region of Conakry further where I should restore the car and to plan further marshrut.
Puteshestviye across Guinea began with terrible off road terrain. On such "to road" not that quickly, it is very slowly difficult to go even to a jeep. And I on a sedan. 50 km to the next city make the way as on a minefield
Me are overtaken by local taxi drivers, loaded load volume is three times more, than their cars. You will not spend on drink skill, I note about myself, being surprised with their phenomenal ability to fly on primers with such freight.
K 7 of evening was tired strongly, after all the day before two days too passed on off road terrain and the broken asphalt. I stop on spending the night directly on road – neither the cities, nor the village nearby is not present. Rare cars still passed by within half an hour, but also they ceased to shine then road with fires, and I fell asleep in total darkness.
Ya sharply were pressed by a brake pedal when saw mad youth with sticks and stones. Backing, attempt to be developed, got stuck a back wheel in the stormwater drainage. Teenagers of 14-17 years flied towards to sudden production, surrounded, began to pull handles of the blocked doors. Unsuccessful attempts to open the car excited furious crowd even more strongly, cobble-stones departed to glasses.
my desperate shout Made sober nothing thinking people. I looked in the face to one of them through the broken window and shouted as mother rescuing the child from a certain death. As the trainer at decisive sports competitions, helping the pupil to become the first. I saw confusion, a regret and even a fault gleam in the opinion of the teenager, his hand unclenched a stone and that departed under wheels. The pack of robbers grabbed everything that was in the eyes in salon, and disappeared probably to divide production.
I Believe, we were rescued only with that in the car was than to profit. Then already I was told about two victims and tens wounded people, burned cars.
Local resident