I saw in their eyes something I was to see over and over in every part of the nation - a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from any Here. They spoke quietly of how they wanted to go someday, to move about, free and unanchored, not toward something but away from something. I saw this look and heard this yearning everywhere in every states I visited. Nearly every American hungers to move. - John Steinbeck

31 August 2019, mini-bus to Bafoussam
Motel Herma 7,000CFA (R175) 
1-3 September 2019, Yaoundé
AirBnb Bastos 14,000CFA (R350)  

We taxied and mini-bused and taxied back to the General Express station in Bafoussam, hoping to find a hotel near the station for our 06:30 bus to Yaoundé on Sunday. By the time we tracked down Motel Herma, we were dripping wet from a storm that caught us off-guard. The motel was adequate; we were amused that the space in front of our loo was smaller than that behind the cistern. You have to sit sideways on it with your feet in the shower, so we could not work out why it had not been placed with its back against the narrow wall. Such is Africa!
Back in Yaoundé after a late start and a long ride, our first port of call Monday morning was the Nigerian embassy. “Come back later”, they said, “the Consul is out”.
Charl is on four chronic medications, I am on one. Our medical aid will allow us to collect a maximum of six months’ meds at a time, having applied for “extended medicine benefits”. This means that every six months we need to arrange to have our meds picked up in Johannesburg by Charl’s daughter and couriered to us somewhere in Africa. We had picked up our first six months supply in Springbok just before entering Namibia, so this was our first attempt at organising for an additional six months. Our doctor and Discovery and Clicks pharmacy and Charl’s daughter and DHL all conspired to make for a relatively stress-free experience, so we collected our parcel at the DHL offices in Yaoundé between visits to the embassy.
The DHL offices happen to be opposite the Independence Monument, which we visited briefly. Then, as it was not far away, we taxied out to the Reunification Monument, built in the 1970s “to memorialise the post-colonial merging of British and French Cameroon” (Wikipedia).
In our taxi back to Bastos, Charl and I had to share the front seat - a tight squeeze. And in our taxi from the Casino supermarket to our Airbnb, during a downpour, the driver took to the pavement to overtake slow-moving traffic.
In between, we revisited the Nigerian embassy to get a no-go from the Consul. So, we have to skip Nigeria, which means flying from Douala to Benin…