On our second day in Liberia, mom went to a meeting with a deputy minister and came back with a change of plans for our visit. She said that she had been invited to go to Harper, the easternmost coastal town in Liberia, with the deputy minister and that we were welcome to come along. So, just like that, we were packing for a six day long roadtrip through Liberia.
And it’s exactly like I read back in 2010, the regional geography course: there are few proper roads connecting coastal towns and cities in West Africa. All roads lead from the natural resources in the inland to the closest harbor. Therefore, getting from a coastal town to another requires a long detour inland. Not good for effective transportation, but wonderful for sightseeing.
A road from Monrovia in the west to Harper in the east is being planned, but as of now, we had to go almost all the way to the Guinean border, and then go back in a loop towards the coast along the Côte d’Ivoreian border. Combining that with the day trip to Robertsport by the Sierra Leonean border means that me and Hanna got to see almost all of Liberia. Such an uncommon but incredible opportunity. Because, Liberia is not really the most backpacker-friendly country, so to say. You need to know people. Traveling with government officials is such a luxury!
Church in Buchanan, a harbor town just east of Monrovia.
Buchanan. The influence from the American South is obvious everywhere.
The Chinese are building a road between Monrovia and Ganta.
Broad street, Toe Town.
Hanna using the recycled soap in our Zwedru hotel. 
We were not the only ones using the bathroom. However, the was a working air conditioner and a sturdy mosquito net above our comfortable bed. Watching My So-Called Life on my tablet made for a great nightcap. 
Morning traffic in Zwedru.
We visited a mine outside Zwedru. There, I got to pose with the portrait of president Ellen.
Some way outside Pleebo, it started pouring down. Serious, buckets of water. And the men at the bar where we stopped to visit the restroom started teasing me for letting Morris walk me from the car with an umbrella. Well, of course I had to show them that I wasn’t such a prude. I’m Scandinavian, used to weather! So I stepped out in the rain and started dancing, the red mud splashing around my flip-flop feet and leaving red dots on my new Liberian skirt.
Oh, how the men in the bar laughed. In a warm, appreciative way. The satisfaction of refuting people’s prejudices!
Katja Malmborg 