Djoum, Cameroon: A Sleep-Deprived Botanist's Rainforest Rhapsody (16°C, 93% Humidity)
i've been a botanist for twelve years, but this trip to Djoum, Cameroon, has me questioning if i even know what a leaf is. after a bone-rattling eight-hour taxi ride from Yaoundé over roads that barely qualify as such, i stumbled into this dusty border town with my backpack and a head full of caffeine dreams. the air hit me like a warm, wet blanket-16.44°C with 93% humidity, and feels like 16.57°C? someone's messing with me, but i'll take it. the barometric pressure's sitting at a cozy 1017 hPa, but down here on the ground it's 892, which means we're about a kilometer up. that explains the chill.
Djoum itself is a grid of red-dirt roads and corrugated iron roofs, but it's the gateway to the Dja Faunal Reserve, a unesco world heritage site that's basically a living library of plant species i've only read about in monographs. i pitched my tent at a campsite near the reserve entrance, and every morning i wake up to the sound of howler monkeys arguing about breakfast.
here's a quick map of where i'm camping, in case you want to avoid the leeches:
my guide, Pascal, is a lanky guy with a smile that could disarm a leopard. he knows every tree by its local name and by its Latin binomial. he pointed out a *Milicia excelsa whose bark is used to make traditional drums. he also warned me about the sap of the Manihot species-it's a nasty irritant. moral of the story: don't touch shiny plants.
the forest here is a different kind of high. the canopy is a tangled mess of lianas, and the understory is a Cryptostegia vine's worst nightmare. i keep running into epiphytes that look like they're from another planet-Tillandsia species with silver leaves that drink the mist, and Rafflesia buds that smell like rotting flesh (i heard they attract carrion flies for pollination, which is just rude). someone told me that if you whisper to the Gymnophiona (those legless amphibians) at midnight, they'll show you a hidden spring. i haven't tried, but i'm tempted.
the birdlife is insane. i must've seen a dozen species of sunbirds and hornbills, but these two white doves kept following me like i was carrying a trail of crumbs. maybe they're messengers of the forest spirits. i tried not to read too much into it.
later, deep in the reserve, i spotted a group of red colobus monkeys leaping through the Barteria trees-they're apparently one of the few primates that can eat toxic leaves without dying. nature's weird like that. i also found a patch of Xylopia trees with those star-shaped flowers that smell like pepper. the local healers use the bark for treating malaria, but i'm sticking to my prophylaxis.
there's a rumor on the internet forums that the Dja River has a bend where the water turns temporarily pink due to mineral deposits. i asked around in Djoum's market, and a grumpy old man with a machete told me it's bullshit-he said the pink only appears during the rainy season when the red clay washes in, and it's not worth the hike. i'm still going to check it out, because why not?
practical stuff: you'll need rain boots that can handle knee-deep mud, a headlamp with extra batteries (the nights are pitch black), and a hammock because the mosquitoes here are the size of small birds. also, get your yellow fever vaccine-customs will ask. and don't forget leech socks; those little bastards can crawl up your pants in seconds.
if you get bored, Bertoua is just a short drive away-like three hours of hellish driving on a road that will eat your tires for breakfast. there's a decent internet cafe there, and you can finally post those egoistic instagram stories. also, the border with the Central African Republic is close, but i wouldn't recommend crossing without a permit and a prayer.
i've been reading TripAdvisor reviews of the reserve's guided tours (some guy named Jean-Claude apparently knows where to find the African grey parrots), and i'm definitely booking one for tomorrow: check it out. over on Yelp, the highest-rated spot in Djoum for a plate of ndolé is Chez Marie, though i'm skeptical about the hygiene: see here. and the CameroonTravelForum* has a lively thread on recent sightings of forest elephants near the river: here. take these with a grain of salt.
i'm writing this at 3am, powered by too much coffee and the hum of cicadas outside my tent. the temperature has dropped to a cool 16°C, humidity still nauseatingly high. i've got a head full of Latin names and a heart full of awe. if you ever get the chance to come out here, do it. just remember: the forest doesn't care about your schedule. it'll rain when it wants, mosquitoes will bite, and you'll probably get lost. but that's the point, right?
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