My Mad Trip to Conakry
The Luckiest F*ck-up
I arrived in Conakry, Guinea on March 11th, 2020, to do a short project with one international company. A story about how a stupid mistake can turn out to be the grace hand of God, so next time you do something silly, don't torture yourself over it.
First of all, Guinea is exactly the place you should visit if you think your country sucks. When I stepped out of the airport, I saw a microbus taking a roundabout with a guy balancing on its roof. The freight microbus had been converted to a passenger one — they just made a few holes on the sides, and it was so full the last passenger went on the roof. The level of chaos and poverty you can observe is extraordinary for a guy who spent most of his life in Europe. Having said that, I found nice, intelligent people there being very kind to me.
So, I was escorted (two SUVs with armed guards) to the Rivera Royal Hotel, where you feel like you are somewhere in Europe, except for malaria mosquitoes flying around at breakfast. You hear freight train horns all day. It reminded me of the Mystery Train film by Jim Jarmusch. Hot and humid.
The next day things got a bit ugly. I went to arrange my short business visa at an official building, where I sat waiting for my turn. In front, there was a sofa where a colonel in a shiny uniform was taking a nap under a portrait of the president on the wall. The temptation to take a photo was irresistible.
They kept my passport and phone for a few days while I was freaking out in the hotel. I won’t tell what it took to get them back, but it was the most expensive photo of my life (pity, I had to delete it). Yet I’m grateful they didn’t put me in jail. Meanwhile, COVID-19 hit the fan.
Leaving was an evacuation hell. I got a ticket for the last airplane before they closed the airspace for a few months. I was standing in a hopeless queue outside and seriously thought to myself: if I leave my suitcase right here and run towards the terminal like the others, will I make it?
The stupid photo made me leave the country (as a trigger for further events), yet in light of the opportunity to be stuck in Guinea for three months (as it turned out with my colleagues), I now see that as a blessing. I miss the African heat sometimes...
Epilogue
Because it was such an unforgettable trip (I spared a lot of details not to bother the dear reader: a broken Air France airplane, a nasty panic attack I had, my calls to the embassy, the chaos I evoked in the company HR department, etc., etc.), I keep coming back to it in my thoughts again and again.
Was browsing my photo archive. A chilling photo. It was an antimalarial kit, given to me by a Russian doctor at a gold mine in Guinea: “In Europe they have no f*cking clue how to treat malaria. This one works 100%. Keep it when you are back.” Luckily, didn’t need it.
A view from a 5-star hotel in Conakry, Guinea. Locals live down there without any utility supply. I wonder how they even manage to do the washing (the color-patched spot for drying).
Came across this tragic accident with a TAP airplane in Conakry. At the same time, imagine the mess that is going on there. I could not resist laughing.
