As It turned my wallet was in Ramrod and our remedial chlorine water and antibiotics staved off the diarrhoea. #smallmercies
However, the burgers deserves another mention because they were something of a culinary wonder. The kitchen they were prepared in appeared to be functional, if basic to say the least. It seemed it could heat things. We therefore assumed that in the 40 minutes it took to cook the burgers*, they would become piping hot and delicious. Not so. As he plopped the food down on the table, the opportunistic chef picked up a chip that had slipped off a plate and gobbled it down enthusiastically, giving us a big grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up as if to say “bloody hell that’s a good chip I’ve made”. We followed suit, and were absolutely perplexed as to how he had made the just-above-room-temperature stale chips. Had he cooked them before the burgers and allowed them to cool? Surely they wouldn’t be so stale. Perhaps he had cooked them yesterday and just tossed a handful onto each plate now. If so, how were they not quite stone cold? Maybe they had just been on a slow burn all day long. However it was done, it was a real achievement. The burgers were in a similar vain, but all the more worrying as a cold burger can be far more venomous than a cold chip. Foolishly we still wolfed them down, throwing our bowels into the hands of the gods.
And this wasn’t a one off incident. On two other occasions we have ordered food off the menu here. First was the plate of chips that took an hour to cook in a deserted restaurant (they hadn’t been forgotten as the waitress continually assured us that they were almost ready). Then there was the chicken and chips. The latter piping hot, but the tepid former causing imaginations to run wild as with no lights we couldn’t see what we were eating. The temperature alone inspired the comment “yep, that tastes exactly like the shits to me”.
Now onto other things. The Gabonese are a lovely bunch in general, but the taxi drivers are an odd breed. Almost everywhere else we’ve been in the world taxis are either on a meter, or more likely at a price negotiated at the start of the journey. Here however, they don’t even stop for you. The protocol for getting a taxi is to think of a price and a destination, and then shout them (in that order) through the window of a moving taxi in the hope that he hears you. Nine times out of ten drive pulls a disgusted face, shakes his head and speeds off. IF he approves, he pulls a disgusted face, doesn’t look you in the eye or say a word, but gives a short toot on his horn and stops. I guess Gabonese taxi drivers do ok, but it seems odd that they choose to throw away so much custom. If they just stopped and discussed a price they might find they can treat the wife and kids a little more often.
The fun doesn’t stop once you’re in the taxi. Jesus Christ are they scary. Almost without fail they sound as though they might fall apart at any second, and then they drive like complete lunatics. Our best yet was the guy who did 70 down the “motorway” quite literally 2 inches from the bumper of the car in front, and then showing off with a few minutes of “no hands”, weaving between lanes using his knees, while playing with his phone. Of course, neither of us piped up just in case we looked like wimps.
And finally, eyebrows. I'm all for ladies who take time to look attractive, and that extends to a little eyebrow preening. But here, they've really taken it to the next level. Eyebrows are all pencil thin and give such a look of surprise i keep looking over my shoulder to wonder what it is that has shocked the poor women! The best are the ones where they've actually completely removed the dark brown/black eyebrows, and painted on red ones! Really special stuff. Sadly no pictures to share, so we'll leave it to your imaginations.
*Unlike Europe and the States where “fast food” is a term with negative connotations and hence avoided, here it is banded around liberally on shop fronts. Unfortunately it does not do exactly (or anything like) what it says on the tin!
However, the burgers deserves another mention because they were something of a culinary wonder. The kitchen they were prepared in appeared to be functional, if basic to say the least. It seemed it could heat things. We therefore assumed that in the 40 minutes it took to cook the burgers*, they would become piping hot and delicious. Not so. As he plopped the food down on the table, the opportunistic chef picked up a chip that had slipped off a plate and gobbled it down enthusiastically, giving us a big grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up as if to say “bloody hell that’s a good chip I’ve made”. We followed suit, and were absolutely perplexed as to how he had made the just-above-room-temperature stale chips. Had he cooked them before the burgers and allowed them to cool? Surely they wouldn’t be so stale. Perhaps he had cooked them yesterday and just tossed a handful onto each plate now. If so, how were they not quite stone cold? Maybe they had just been on a slow burn all day long. However it was done, it was a real achievement. The burgers were in a similar vain, but all the more worrying as a cold burger can be far more venomous than a cold chip. Foolishly we still wolfed them down, throwing our bowels into the hands of the gods.
And this wasn’t a one off incident. On two other occasions we have ordered food off the menu here. First was the plate of chips that took an hour to cook in a deserted restaurant (they hadn’t been forgotten as the waitress continually assured us that they were almost ready). Then there was the chicken and chips. The latter piping hot, but the tepid former causing imaginations to run wild as with no lights we couldn’t see what we were eating. The temperature alone inspired the comment “yep, that tastes exactly like the shits to me”.
Now onto other things. The Gabonese are a lovely bunch in general, but the taxi drivers are an odd breed. Almost everywhere else we’ve been in the world taxis are either on a meter, or more likely at a price negotiated at the start of the journey. Here however, they don’t even stop for you. The protocol for getting a taxi is to think of a price and a destination, and then shout them (in that order) through the window of a moving taxi in the hope that he hears you. Nine times out of ten drive pulls a disgusted face, shakes his head and speeds off. IF he approves, he pulls a disgusted face, doesn’t look you in the eye or say a word, but gives a short toot on his horn and stops. I guess Gabonese taxi drivers do ok, but it seems odd that they choose to throw away so much custom. If they just stopped and discussed a price they might find they can treat the wife and kids a little more often.
The fun doesn’t stop once you’re in the taxi. Jesus Christ are they scary. Almost without fail they sound as though they might fall apart at any second, and then they drive like complete lunatics. Our best yet was the guy who did 70 down the “motorway” quite literally 2 inches from the bumper of the car in front, and then showing off with a few minutes of “no hands”, weaving between lanes using his knees, while playing with his phone. Of course, neither of us piped up just in case we looked like wimps.
And finally, eyebrows. I'm all for ladies who take time to look attractive, and that extends to a little eyebrow preening. But here, they've really taken it to the next level. Eyebrows are all pencil thin and give such a look of surprise i keep looking over my shoulder to wonder what it is that has shocked the poor women! The best are the ones where they've actually completely removed the dark brown/black eyebrows, and painted on red ones! Really special stuff. Sadly no pictures to share, so we'll leave it to your imaginations.
*Unlike Europe and the States where “fast food” is a term with negative connotations and hence avoided, here it is banded around liberally on shop fronts. Unfortunately it does not do exactly (or anything like) what it says on the tin!
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