We woke early, jumped on motorcycle taxis in the dark and by daybreak were cruising east and south on the ATT Busline. This bus had air conditioning and loud Beninese music — which I stopped hearing after a couple of hours.

“You’ve been in every region of Benin, Mom,” Suzanne said as we drew closer to Cotonou. And I have to say, I feel like it. Traveling cross-country here is not for the faint of heart. Come to think of it nothing much here  is.

It will take me days, weeks, probably months to digest the last seven days — and I had time to start digesting before we got home since we sat for more than 45 minutes in a traffic jam. Yep, they have ’em here, too.