To enter Guinea we first had to cross the river that runs along its frontier with Guinea Bissau.
 
By dawn wisps of mist clung to the cool waters, creating an ethereal, other-worldly impression of the land beyond shrouded in myth. With elections approaching and an erratic military ruler in power Guinea is more volatile than normal and our plan was to get across it as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

The team had recently been augmented by the addition of two itinerant sound recorders, Huw and Bex, whom we were giving a lift to Sierra Leone with their bikes.

The ferry turned out to be little more than a floating platform of rusty wrought iron connected to either bank by a heavy chain. Certainly no QE2 and we, the passengers, were expected to haul this hulk of scrap metal tug-o-war style across the river.

Will jumped ship early, retreating with Huw (the largest man around) and all our camera equipment to the safety of a dug-out canoe. He sloped off muttering something about recording the event for posterity and a gammy shoulder. Lynn, with uncommon pace, found another camera to capture the determined grimaces and sweating brows of the labouring crew close-up. And Bex unpacked all the audio equipment to record a soundscape, the grunting groaning cadence of the chain gang at work.

It was left to one man to drag Atlantic Rising across the border...

I fell into line with the crew, a motley bunch of toothless old men, waifish girls and a boy who attempted to abscond in mid-stream (he was made to walk the plank for this mutinous act). We were exhorted by a captain who offered more by way of advice than he did by demonstration, interspersed with streams of abuse and accusations of idleness. 

The chain gang rallied, making up in determination for what we lacked in brawn. We offered each other stifled cries of support between gritted teeth, “bonne courage, bonne courage”, whilst our feet slipped and slid across the grimy floors of the floating platform.

When we made land on the other side we were sweaty, grubby and out of breath.  Meanwhile Atlantic Rising’s paparazzi had rowed merrily across the stream, snapping and cooing, splashing and chortling, before stepping daintily onto terra firma.

And so it was that amid a great media fanfare we announced our arrival in Guinea. 

Have a look at more photos from Guinea here.

You can hear Listen to Africa's soundscape of the crossing here.

Comments	Leave a comment
Name: Jackie Jenkins (UK) Thanks Lynn for your email. I have been keeping up with all your adventures on your blogs. It all sounds such fun. I hope you all keep safe and have a wonderful Christmas.Love Jackie