So I find words I never thought to speak, In streets I never thought I should revisit, When I left my body on a distant shore. - TS Eliot

20 September 2019, Cotonou to Ouidah, 44.81km
Hotel Terra Nostra 6,000XOF (R150)  

We began our first cycle day in Benin by turning left and right, left and right, left and right onto Route des Péches, a double-carriage road smoothly tarred and heading west. After 15km, the tar ended abruptly in compacted beach sand, which we rode to Ouidah (also spelled Whydah).
We cycled the western suburbs of Cotonou with a tan beach and the rain-drenched Gulf of Guinea to our left. Past the southern end of the airport; past tin shacks and modest homes and multi-storey buildings under construction, rickety-seeming wood scaffolding clinging like cobwebs to their outer walls; past bars and hotels and churches; past a large vegetable garden onto sand.
The novelty of an interesting road tends to wear off before the kms do if the ride is a difficult one; luckily the flat terrain mitigated the poor condition of the road. There was a massive thunder storm in the early hours of this morning, which filled large hollows with water, creating mini-lakes that covered the entire width of the road, and in places the wet sand was soggy. I am nervous on dirt, especially on soft sand, so had to mount and dismount the bike often, making for a slow ride. But what a ride…
Essentially we cycled a continuation of the beach to the south of us. On either side of the road, but more often on the beach itself, were fishing villages, homes and fences constructed of woven palm leaf and thatch. And on the sand, wooden boats around which men worked on blue fishing nets. And everywhere, tall palm trees etched against the sky.
We cycled past voodoo temples and Catholic churches. Past white cattle and black pigs, one taking a lolling bath in a puddle in the middle of the road. Past women in bright fabrics carrying goods on their heads, and men in bright fabrics carrying passengers and goods on their autocycles. And small children naked from the waist down. And mounds of shells piled on the roadside.
We went into a shop-house on the beach where the proprietor made us an omelette and citron tea. The floor of his home was beach sand, the walls palm leaf, the roof wood. The home comprised three areas: running the length, a wide passageway where he served us our meal, our bums in plastic chairs, our shared plate on a cut palm bole nestled into the sand for stability. In the far corner was another plastic chair, covered in fabric, on which two wooden dolls were displayed, we assume a representation of his ancestors. To the right of the passage were two rooms; a kitchen fronting the road, and a bedroom. It was cool and clean inside. Our host told us his name was de Souza, and seemed to say he had many family members in high places in Benin society. De Souza was the name of the main slave trader in Ouidah…
Along the length of the road, children and adults called out “yovu” (white) in greeting. And quite often “cadeau” (gift). I try, largely unsuccessfully, to be patient about this latter “request”. It comes mainly linked to the former: “yovu cadeau” (white gift). The linking of the two irritates me, but what irritates me more is the irrationality of it. After all, just how many whites bearing gifts ever travel this road? And how many gifts can one cyclist carry? So what exactly is the expectation? And it is a bad lesson to teach your children…
The beach road ended at the Gate of No Return, which we will visit tomorrow, turning north there to the city. We had not arranged accommodation and ended cycling past the Python Temple and Basilica and through much of town to the main east-west highway that links Benin to Togo. And there came across the rather large and unexpectedly well-priced Terra Nostra where we have put down roots for two nights.

For today's route see below photos
For overview route, click on ROUTE tab above…