The old Peugeot for the ride from Parakou to Natitingou in northern Benin didn't inspire much confidence. At least, my protests against putting a third person on the front passenger seat were successful. Four adults and two children were squeezed in the back. On the outskirts of Parakou, the driver of an oncoming shared taxi gave a hand signal and our driver turned off from the road to park the car behind a wall. He mumbled a few words and disappeared. After a while, I asked my front seat neighbour what we were waiting for and he explained to me that there was a police checkpoint which our driver, whose papers were not in order, wanted to have a look at. After the onset of a downpour, the driver returned soaking wet and in the best of moods. In a weather like this, he laughed, no policeman would get out of his shed to check the papers. The passengers were of the same opinion and we could continue. The limited visibility due to the rain (the windscreen wipers didn't work properly) and the horrible condition of the flooded road gave me an awkward feeling which wasn't improved by the fact that the driver kept singing in a high-pitched voice. At least he respected my plea to drive a bit slower. Due to the thousands of potholes we couldn't drive fast anyway. Contrary to our expectations, we were stopped at the checkpoint. With a sigh, the driver got out of the car and approached the two policemen with a huge laugh. These welcomed him stone-faced. I prepared myself for a long wait and thought that maybe it wouldn't be too bad if they'd make us continue in another vehicle. After a few minutes, however, our good-humoured driver returned, said something to the passengers of which I only understood "mille cinq cents" (thousand five hundred*) and we could continue our journey. The rear luggage cover wasn't properly closed because there was too much luggage so I did not have much hope to find anything in my backpack left dry on arrival in Natitingou. The heavy rainfall did not reduce and even increased when we had a flat tire. I didn't envy the two men who changed tires. In the next village, we stopped at a tire repair place situated on an island surrounded by rainwater-rivers. It took one hour until we could continue. The condition of the road got better and the driver got faster. I felt very uneasy and decided to get off the taxi in the next town to look for another vehicle to Natitingou. This wasn't necessary however as the driver stopped there anyway and made us board a relatively well-preserved Opel waiting there. Unfortunately, the rule that the better the condition of road and vehicle, the faster the ride proved correct. With 120 km per hour, we raced to Natitingou.

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* 1500 Francs CFA are about 2 Euros.