November 2016: In pursuit of wildlife in Central Africa’s forests, and as part of a larger trip that included Equatorial Guinea-Camping for a Week with Scientists Studying Primates and Giant Leatherback Sea Turtles on Bioko Island’s Wild Southern Coast | Venture The Planet, I spent 12 days exploring Gabon with my friends Charlie and Jimmie. Our visit came just a month after an attempted coup to remove President Ali Bongo, which led to sporadic fighting and the deaths of a few soldiers. As a result, tensions were high, security forces were on high alert, and there was widespread anticipation of another coup attempt. However, this unrest worked in our favor in one unexpected way—the typically high-cost airline tickets to Gabon had dropped significantly, making our trip much more affordable.
Gabon, a country rarely visited by tourists, had drawn us in with its incredible wildlife. Our most memorable encounters took place in Lope National Park, where we observed mandrills, forest elephants, and gorillas in their natural habitat. We camped deep in the forest—at times dangerously close to forest elephants, which frequently charged at us, forcing us to run for our lives.
Beyond the wildlife, our journey took us to some fascinating and unexpected places. We stayed in a guesthouse at the historic hospital in Lambaréné, founded by Dr. Albert Schweitzer, and later camped at a remote Catholic mission in the jungle, hosted by a priest in the village of Sindara.
This is the story of my Gabon adventure—one filled with thrilling wildlife encounters, unexpected danger, and a glimpse into a country at a moment of political uncertainty.
About Gabon
- Official Language: French
- Colonial History: Former French colony
- Geography & Conservation: Gabon is predominantly covered in equatorial rainforest, with 30% of its forests protected—making it a leader in conservation efforts.
- Economy: Despite having large oil and timber reserves, making it one of Africa’s wealthiest nations, very little of this wealth benefits its citizens.
- Political History: Gabon was ruled for 40 years by Omar Bongo, one of Africa’s longest-serving dictators, until his death in 2009. His son, Ali Bongo, took over and has remained in power ever since, despite controversial elections marred by allegations of fraud.
My route in Gabon
Detained at Immigration
I arrived in Libreville, Gabon, alone on an Air France flight. As I waited in the immigration line, I quickly noticed that I was one of the few visibly foreign travelers on the plane. While standing in line, an immigration officer in a military uniform motioned for anyone who appeared foreign to step into a separate office.
I wasn’t concerned—I had everything officially required to enter Gabon:
✔ A Gabonese visa affixed to my passport
✔ A yellow fever vaccination card
✔ A return ticket
✔ An email confirmation of my accommodation with a Couchsurfing host, a kind French couple
I was seated in an office alone, and after a few minutes, a Gabonese officer with broken English entered, scowled at my passport, and said:
“There is a problem.”
I calmly asked, “What problem?”
He repeated, “Big problem.”
At that moment, I realized I was dealing with a corrupt official attempting to shake me down for money. With no real option but to remain calm, I waited as he took my passport and left me alone for 20 minutes.
I quickly texted my Couchsurfing host—a French expat engineer working in Gabon’s telecommunications sector—who assured me that I had nothing to worry about. He was well-connected with government officials and said he was on his way to pick me up.
When the official returned, I informed him that my host was arriving at the airport soon to receive me. He didn’t seem impressed and left me alone again for another 20 minutes before finally returning and, without a word, handed back my passport with an entrance stamp. I didn’t ask any questions—I just exited the airport as fast as possible to find my host.
When I met my host, he apologized, explaining that corruption is common in Gabon and that a little bribe money can “fix any problem.” In my case, he had paid the officer $20 to secure my release from airport detention.
I felt indebted to this stranger—not only was he generously offering me a free room in his home, but he had also personally picked me up at the airport and helped me navigate the corrupt officials. If that wasn’t enough, he and his wife later took me out for dinner at a beachside restaurant in Libreville—a meal I insisted on paying for as a small token of gratitude.
Lope National Park
When my friends Jimmie and Charlie arrived in Libreville, they were luckier than me—they had no immigration issues like I had faced. Once we met up, we arranged for a 4WD Land Cruiser through a local fixer to drive us all the way to Lope National Park, where we planned to go mandrill tracking, camping, and gorilla trekking.
While there is a train to Lope, it doesn’t run every day, and to ensure we had enough time for everything we wanted to do, we decided to drive to Lope and return via the train.
The Long Journey to Lope
The drive was long, and the roads worsened the farther we traveled into Gabon. We passed soldier-manned checkpoints, but surprisingly, we had no issues with them. However, we occasionally saw military convoys with heavy weaponry, likely a lingering effect of the recent attempted coup.
Another sign we were deep in Central Africa was the many roadside vendors selling bushmeat—often monkeys and sometimes crocodiles.
I’d like to say the drive was uneventful, but it wasn’t.
Tension in the Market
Our first problem occurred in a small village market. My SLR camera had died back in Equatorial Guinea, so I had bought a lower-quality replacement at a camera shop in Libreville—for a much higher price than I would have paid back home. But at least I had something to record my time in Gabon.
I wanted to test it, so I took some photos of fish stalls in the market. Suddenly, a Muslim man became furious, accusing me of photographing a woman—which I hadn’t done. He was angry and loud, drawing attention. I knew it was best to quietly remove myself from the situation.
Frankly, I hadn’t expected this in Gabon, which has a small Muslim population. But regardless of religion, I’m always careful about who I photograph and make sure to get permission when necessary. Later, I read about a foreign man who was attacked and killed with a machete in one of these markets—reportedly by an angry Muslim man along this same route. That thought stuck with me for the rest of the trip.
A Nightmarish Breakdown in the Jungle
Hours later, deep in the rainforest, far from any village, we faced another crisis.
The roads had become a muddy mess, and we found ourselves stuck in a deep rut. As we struggled to free the vehicle, the engine suddenly died.
Our driver, in true African bush mechanic style, managed to MacGyver a fix using rubber bands and metal coat hangers to reconnect the starter cables. But while the engine could now start, we were still stuck in the mud.
It was dark, raining, and the insects were relentless. Then, to our horror, the driver panicked, stopped trying to help, and began praying over the car. After finishing his prayer, he turned to us and said he was going to walk to the nearest village for help—hours away—leaving us behind with the vehicle.
Charlie was having none of it. He demanded that the driver stay and help us get unstuck.
We quickly cleared a path, adding sticks and branches to the muddiest sections. Then, while everyone pushed, I jumped into the driver’s seat and made repeated attempts to power through the mud.
The driver protested, fearing the car would get scratched on the rocks, but we had no other choice. After several tense attempts, the tires finally caught some traction, and we escaped the mud.
By the time we arrived in Lope, it was midnight. Exhausted and covered in mud, we checked into a basic wooden hut hotel—but thankfully, it had working air conditioning.
Bushmeat for sale
Sign on the road promoting Ali Bongo, President of Gabon
Our Hotel near Lope
Inside of our hotel
The dusty little town along the edge of Lope is where most people stay before entering the park. We spent a lot of time in the local bars, where we had a lot of fun dancing to local music and drinking beers with local villagers.
Tracking Mandrills
One of the main reasons I was drawn to Lope National Park was the mandrills—a giant, baboon-like species of monkey with vibrant, rainbow-colored faces and striking rear ends. I had seen captive mandrills before at the San Diego Zoo and always found them fascinating and beautiful. Seeing them in the wild and capturing them in photographs was a major goal of my trip.
Lope is home to a large population of mandrills, but they are notoriously difficult to spot. They move constantly, spend most of their time in the treetops, and inhabit dense jungle, where they share their habitat with dangerous animals like elephants and venomous snakes.
However, the park warden, a French conservationist, pioneered a new method to track them for tourism. He had fitted a GPS collar onto a female mandrill, knowing that she would always stay within a large group. This allowed him to lead tourists to their location, offering a rare chance to see them in their natural habitat.
My friends and I were part of the very first tourist group to attempt mandrill tracking in Lope. We spent an entire day trekking through the dense, unmarked rainforest, struggling through rough terrain where no trails existed. It was exhausting work, and at times, we had to retreat when we heard the warning rumbles of elephants ahead.
Twice, we managed to get ahead of a moving group of 10 to 20 mandrills and positioned ourselves beneath the trees, waiting silently as they approached. Before I could see them, I heard them—rustling the leaves, moving swiftly, almost ghost-like through the jungle canopy. Watching them reminded me of the movie Predator—they were lightning-fast, perfectly camouflaged, and nearly invisible until the moment they caught a glint of sunlight.
On a few occasions, I caught glimpses of their brilliantly colored faces, but by the time I lifted my camera, they had already vanished. Unfortunately, the cheap SLR camera I had bought in Gabon was not up to the task, and I failed to get a decent photo.
The mandrills were wild and unaccustomed to humans, and the moment they detected us, they sped up even more. Perhaps, in the future, as more tracking expeditions take place, they will become slightly more habituated and less wary of tourists.
While I didn’t get the photographs I had hoped for, simply witnessing these extraordinary primates in their natural habitat—a privilege few people have ever had—was an unforgettable experience.
Warden looking for sat signals of mandrills
Tracking the mandrills across the hills into gallery forest
Camping in the Forest and Being Charged by Forest Elephants
Our original plan was to visit Mikongo, a section of Lope National Park where habituated gorillas could be observed. However, recent heavy rains had washed away the road, making access impossible. Instead, the rangers recommended another forest within the park, where wild, completely unhabituated gorillas roamed.
We stocked up on food, prepared our camping gear, and set off in a jeep, driving several hours into the park. When we reached the forest’s edge, we immediately spotted a group of forest elephants and buffalo.
Gabon’s Forest Elephants – A Dangerous Welcome
Gabon is one of the last strongholds of the forest elephant, a species being massacred across Africa for its ivory. Lope is home to a significant population, making them a common but dangerous sight.
The rangers dropped us off with our guide and cook, then quickly sped away, leaving us alone. This was our home for the next two days, but before we could even think about setting up camp, we had a problem—we needed to figure out how to get past the elephants.
The ranger and I went ahead to scout a safe path while the others waited behind. Everything seemed fine at first—it looked like we could just go around them. But as we rounded a grassy hill, we suddenly saw another group of elephants feeding—and they were only about 100 feet away.
A Heart-Stopping Charge
The matriarch was already staring at us, aware of our presence. Before we could react, she charged.
The ranger yelled, “Run for the boulders!”
Downhill, near a swamp full of buffalo, there were large rocks that could offer some protection. We sprinted for our lives, and I could hear the thunderous pounding of the elephant’s feet behind me, accompanied by its trumpeting screams.
As I ran, I crashed through a shallow pond, startling a herd of wild forest buffalo that had been resting in the water. The buffalo scattered in panic, adding to the chaos, but I had no time to worry about them.
At last, I scrambled up the boulders, perched on top of the rocks, out of reach of the charging elephant. The ranger and I caught our breath, hearts pounding.
Of course, the elephant could have easily outrun us if it had wanted to—this was just a mock charge. But not all charges are.
As we sat recovering from the adrenaline rush, the ranger told me about a friend who had been killed by an elephant and a Japanese researcher who was crushed by one in this very forest. The danger was real—these were elephants that demanded respect.
We waited on the rocks for 30 tense minutes, ensuring the elephants had moved on before continuing.
Reaching the Forest
By the time we arrived at the edge of the forest, the rest of our group had made it via another route—one with no elephant drama.
Together, we entered the dense rainforest and found a clearing near a stream, an ideal place to set up our camp for the night.
Forest elephants
Forest elephants
Forest buffalo startled by my intrusion into their pond
Giant boulders in the grasslands where we ran to seek coverfrom the elephants
Deep rainforests of Lope National Park
The forest was a completely different world from the grasslands. While it provided cooler temperatures and shelter from the intense tropical sun, it was also far more humid and absolutely swarming with insects.
Every day, around sunset and again an hour after sunrise, we were tormented by stinging bees. Drawn to salt, they covered our tents, clothes, and anything that had absorbed our sweat. Most of the time, they were harmless if left undisturbed, but occasionally, they would sting if they felt threatened—and it hurt like hell.
One particularly unfortunate bee somehow found its way into my pants and managed to sting me directly on the testicle. The pain was excruciating. In a panic, I had to rip my pants off immediately, fumbling to remove the bee and its stinger as fast as possible.
Because of the relentless insects, we spent very little time outside our tents in camp. We even ate our meals inside to avoid being swarmed.
At night, we never wandered far—not only because of the insects but also because we could sometimes hear elephants approaching our camp, their presence just beyond the tree line.
Despite the discomfort and dangers, there was something exhilarating about being in such a wild, untouched environment, completely at the mercy of the jungle around us.
Our camp
Our Tents
Swarms of stinging bees
Jimmie protecting himself from stinging bees in camp
From our camp, we hiked for hours into the dense forest each day, following game trails in search of wildlife. We moved silently, listening carefully for any signs of elephants or other animals. Our ranger guide was an expert—he could spot monkeys we never would have noticed and hear elephants ahead of us long before we could, which helped us avoid accidentally stumbling upon them—a situation that could have been extremely dangerous.
The Constant Threat of Elephants
Despite our caution, we encountered elephants every time we ventured into the forest. No matter how carefully we tried to tiptoe past them, we often ended up triggering a charge. This left us scrambling to run and take cover behind the nearest large tree.
The elephants were extremely defensive, and for good reason—poachers are decimating their populations across Central Africa. Their fear and aggression were a tragic reflection of the relentless pressure they faced from humans.
An Unforgettable Gorilla Encounter
After about five hours of trekking, we entered a part of the forest where the ranger assured us there were many gorillas—and he was right.
Almost immediately, we heard movement on the forest floor ahead. We crouched down, holding our breath.
Then, it happened.
High up in the trees, a small female gorilla climbed quietly up a slender trunk, trying to get a glimpse of us. As soon as she laid eyes on us, she froze—her body completely rigid with shock, staring at us in disbelief.
I hurriedly raised my camera, desperate to capture the moment. But once again, it was too dark, and my camera failed me.
After a few tense seconds, the spell was broken—she let out a piercing scream and bolted through the forest. The other gorillas followed instantly, disappearing into the dense foliage.
And just like that—our gorilla sighting was over.
Crossing a stream
Monkey
Staying in a Guest House at Dr. Albert Schweitzer Hospitol in Lamborene
Leaving Lope and Taking the Train South
After our time in Lope, we decided to take the train south toward Libreville, where we planned to catch a bus or taxi to Lambaréné. My goal was to travel deeper into the forest and camp with the Gabonese Pygmies, a long-held dream of mine.
We arrived at the train station at night, fully expecting the train to be delayed—but, surprisingly, it arrived on time.
A Miserable Night on the Train
Stepping into the train car, we were hit with an arctic blast—the air conditioning was cranked up so high that the interior was freezing. Wearing only shorts and a T-shirt, I shivered through the night, struggling to sleep.
We arrived at a small junction town on the road to Lambaréné just before sunrise, an hour ahead of schedule. The train station was guarded, which made us cautious—especially when a few suspicious-looking men approached us. They offered us a ride, but something felt off about them. Their insistence and demeanor put us on edge, and we decided to stay inside the station under the watchful eye of the station guards.
Eventually, we were able to arrange a taxi through one of the train station workers, ensuring a safer and more reliable ride directly to Lambaréné.
Staying at Dr. Albert Schweitzer’s Hospital
In Lambaréné, we stayed at the hospital founded by Dr. Albert Schweitzer, a German missionary doctor who dedicated his life to bringing healthcare to this remote part of the world.
Dr. Schweitzer left behind a wealthy and comfortable life to move his family to Gabon, where he built a hospital deep in the jungle. His lifelong mission was to improve healthcare and living standards for the local people, and he died in Gabon, where he had spent decades serving the community.
To this day, his hospital remains one of the best in the country. We stayed in a guesthouse adjacent to his former home and grave, which has since been turned into a museum.
Train station in Lope
Train station in Lope
Advertisement for hemorroid cream
Piano that Dr. Albert Schweitzer played in his room
Portrait of Dr. Albert Schweitzer
Bedroom of Dr. Albert Schweitzer Overlooking His and his Wife’s grave
Family graves of House of Dr. Albert Schweitzer
Grave of Dr. Albert Schweitzer
Ruver near hospitol of Dr. Albert Schweitzer
Sunset over river in lamborene
Thanksgiving Dinner with a Catholic Priest in a Remote Jungke Mission
A Change of Plans in Sindara
Our original plan was to take a taxi to Sindara and then continue deeper into the jungle to find a Pygmy camp, where we hoped to camp for a few nights. However, when we arrived, we quickly realized that the cost of the taxi to the camp was too high, and we were running low on money.
Instead, we decided to stay in Sindara and camp for two nights at a remote, 100-year-old Catholic mission, where a lone Cameroonian priest was stationed.
A Crumbling Mission in the Jungle
The old, crumbling wooden mission, tucked away in the rainforest along a crocodile-infested river, was exactly the kind of exotic place we had hoped to find. It was located a few miles from a small village, which became our main source of food and supplies.
Each day, we walked into the village, where we ate at a tiny, humble restaurant and picked up whatever basic provisions we could find at the small village store.
A Thanksgiving Unlike Any Other
It happened to be Thanksgiving, so we decided to improvise a holiday meal in the Catholic mission’s kitchen. The selection at the village store was sparse, but we managed to buy some noodles and put together a simple meal—certainly not the grandest Thanksgiving feast I’d ever had, but one of the most memorable.
We shared the meal with the priest, who, despite only speaking French, seemed to deeply appreciate our effort to include him. With basic words and gestures, we managed to communicate, sharing stories, laughter, and gratitude in this forgotten corner of the world.
Despite its simplicity, this Thanksgiving was one of my favorites—proof that the best travel experiences aren’t always about luxury or extravagance, but about the connections you make and the places you find yourself in.
River we would have to cross by boat to find another taxi to take us a few hours into the forest to find a pygmy tribe
Catholic priest living alone in a remote mission in Sindara.
100 year old Catholic mission
100 year old Catholic mission
100 year old Catholic mission
Sindara village kids attending the Catholic school in the remote mission post
Graves at catholic mission
Village kids at school in the mission
Village kids in class at Catholic Mission
The priest from Uganda
Priest living at the Mission
Thanksgiving dinner with the priest
After our stay in Sindara, we took a bus back to Libreville, where we spent one final day exploring the city before catching our flight home via France.