Perspiring in Benin

As we stepped off the plane the sweat began to trickle and the humidity of a new country hit us in the face, we had arrived in Benin!

We flew into Cotonou, the de facto capital and a city that makes Dakar look sedate. For new arrivals it is a sprawling urban nightmare hemmed in by lakes, lagoons and the Atlantic coast. With every step a new bead of sweat hits the pavement and crossing the roads is like running the gauntlet! Motorbikes rule supreme, outnumbering cars and inhibiting pedestrians. The frenzied sound of beeping horns and the smell of diesel overwhelms your senses and takes it’s toll on weary travellers. 

We did not instantly love this city! It is a place to get used to and when you have, one of the most fascinating sights is the Dantopka Market. A sea of tin roofs hides an absolutely enormous warren of a market. Narrow alleys of stalls piled to the brim with every good imaginable, run into each other and once inside it’s like a maze making it easy to loose all bearings. Women in fantastic cloths push past each other, some carrying loads on their heads as tall as themselves.

The hottest part of the day is a quarrelsome time, one where you may not feel welcome, however when it cools chatting resumes and amicable conversation once again flows. The tin roofed shacks surround a three storey central market building that is packed to the rafters with cloth. The endless variety is a sight to behold and a heaven for cloth lovers, although the expanse of choice can be mind-boggling! You can see this material transformed into all sorts of remarkable outfits as you wander the city taking both a traditional and modern form and sometimes even his and hers! Transactions spill onto the streets and out of the market district, it is a fast paced trading city, matched by the speed of the moto’s.

Cotonou does not have a great deal to offer the visitor travelling through. When we had had enough of the constant activity and cloying heat we headed to Porto Novo, the official capital. As you leave the chaotic city the heat lifts and intense tropical greenery replaces the urban grey. Porto Novo was the capital of the French colony of Dahomey and the faded colonial architecture makes it a beautiful place to wander around. We visited the Musée Ethnographique that the Rough Guide describes as superb, this is definitely a stretch of the imagination however it did feature some hilarious translations!

An exhilarating and cheap moto ride took us to the Songhai Centre, an agricultural project on the outskirts of town. The vast expanses of neatly planted crops were an unexpected pleasure, impressive in their lushness and variety. The Songhai is a training centre for young Africans, there are currently around 200 students and we chatted to two of them who were on an 18 month program. The farm has been established for 25 years and is a brilliant model of sustainability. It teaches farming skills and how to use available resources to make agriculture economically worthwhile. Design is key and the whole farm is set up to maximise efficiency. 

It was great to discover such a functional example of sustainable community farming. After two juxtaposing days, we knew we haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of this colourful and diverse country. Now acclimatised to the continuous sweating we look forward to discovering more of what lies beneath.