Abuja Hotels' Review

Today I am starting a new feature that is long overdue. As a frequent budget traveller, I stay in all kinds of places! When you operate the often shoe-string budget I operate and still want good service, you usually have to search harder. I will be reviewing some of the smaller hotels in Abuja and environs as well as the places I stay on my trips. I will also welcome posts from my readers who have had good or bad experiences in their travels. The aim is make hoteliers more sensitive to the needs of their guests. I hope you enjoy and find it useful!

Our first featured property is LAKE CRESCENT HOTEL.

This hotel is set in a quiet neighbourhood in the Jabi  area of Abuja. It is about 5 minutes stroll from the popular Jabi Lake. The hotel passes our first test with flying colours; It is clean. The hotel staff are courteous, friendly and professional. They respond quickly to guests’ complains and attend to needs promptly. The rooms are equipped with comfortable clean beds and a good working desk. There is wireless service, though rather epileptic at the time we stayed there. The bathrooms, though tiny, are well supplied with good quality hotel-branded toiletries. The restaurant is one of the best things about this pretty property. It serves an amazing Nigerian and foreign menu. The local dishes are very well prepared and attractively served. It is one of the few places where you might have a challenge finishing the food if you are not a big eater! Their pounded yam “roll” and afang (green leafy vegetable) soup are my favourite. Worth trying any day! I hope the chef is well paid. The hotel boasts of a small enclosed swimming pool and adequate parking for guests.

On the downside, the property does not have grounds and there is no garden of any sort. It also had no functional business centre at the time we visited. Some of the rooms on the ground floor are a bit claustrophobic in their smallness.

The place is managed by a nice, mild-mannered Asian. It is not overpriced in in my opinion. All told, Lake crescent hotel gets a big pass mark from us! In our own rating, it gets a 7/10 and we recommend it highly

The Silent Hills

For millenia they have stood guard over this patch of Earth. They have witnessed the birth to death of millions of animals. The antics of the animals as they roamed freely, ignorant or perhaps careless of the watching silent hills.
They have watched men come and go and have watched them do all sorts of things on these hills, yet they remain silent.
Now they are threatened. Their very existence is at stake! The men have come and refused to go! Now they are hacking down the hills and mountains to build homes and hotels. Estates and residences are coming and the hills have become the building materials.

The Silent Hills of Abuja. Crying out for mercy and no one seems to listen or even hear. The Silent Hills are speaking, can you hear them? The Silent Hills are

weeping can you see the tears?

Death of the Hamdala

The date was sometime in 1995, the occasion was an official trip to several states in the Northern parts of Nigeria and Kaduna was the first stop.
We drove into the magnificent premises of the Hamdala Hotel to a very warm welcome. I checked into my room with my infant son and his baby sitter and lay down to gather my thoughts. The atmosphere was serene, tranquil and just what I needed on my first official  trip as a mother. My schedule for the coming week was heavy, packed full with training,  talks and seminars. I needed to plan how to manage my time between doing my job, pleasing my boss and taking care of my five month old infant. I was officially still on leave but the trip was so important it could not be postponed
I lay down for a while but sleep would not come; my mind was too full. I got up to take a shower which turned into a long bath and I looked around me in total satisfaction. The Hamdala was definitely a good start to this long week and gradually the beautiful surroundings set me at peace. All was well with my world. I finally fell asleep. A few hours later, it was time for dinner and I was directed to the Chinese restaurant where my boss treated me to a Chinese dinner so good that I almost begged her to let me remain in Kaduna while she continued the journey on her own.
Two short days later we checked out of Hamdala, totally refreshed and ready to take on the World. Hamdala had fired me up; we drove away and I took my memories of a beautiful experience determined to pay  a repeat visit. Then as usual, life got in the way and I never made it back to the Hamdala, but I kept my memories, fresh, alive and waiting for more...
Yesterday, seventeen years later, another official trip, I got my chance at the Hamdala or  more correctly, I should say my shock at the Hamdala. It was gone! stripped, bare, overgrown with weeds, hollow, not even a recognizable shadow of its former self. Hamdala was dead. A friend and colleague pointed it out to me as we drove past and I almost wept. I could not believe my eyes! Decay (systemic and structural) had killed my beloved Hamdala and I was sad. This hotel used to be the pride of Kaduna but something had obviously gone wrong and it had been allowed to die. The pity for me is that no investor would feel comfortable about returning it to its glory days, not with the prevailing insecurities.
As we drove on, I had no choice but to cling to my memories of those fleeting hours spent in the warm embrace of this warm edifice.
Hamdala Hotel, I was not there for your funeral ceremony but this is my tribute to you. You were good to me and I wish you had lived to make another happy as you once made me

Small town on Sunday morning

As we drove into the town I swung my head this way and that trying to take it all in. I didn’t know where I was going but I didn’t feel any sense of unease; partly because I’m quite used to visiting new places on my own ( I actually look forward to it) and more because I’m blessed with the born traveller’s ability to feel at home anywhere.

“please where is Ploy roundabout?” I asked the very pretty and buxom lady who had shared my seat in the bus for the past fours. She had intermittently used my shoulder as her pillow whenever sleep overcame her during the trip and I’d been very good-natured about it and now was payback time.

“ you will get to the last bus stop and then get a bike to take you there”

“Are there no taxis?” I asked with all the innocence of a Lagos woman in the countryside.

“ I don’t think you can get a drop”, she replied with a look that seemed to say, “welcome to the real world sister! I smiled inwardly. “If only she knew!, I thought to myself. I can make myself fit in almost anywhere and was only just checking out my options.

All the other passengers aligted at various points until there was just a young lady left in the the bus with me. We soon found ourselves in “go slow” which I realized was caused by a struggle between traders and motorists for right of ownership. We were literarily driving through the middle of a market. A few minutes later the driver stopped in the middle of the road and came round to open the door with barely concealed impatience and muttered, “oya, oya”, which could mean anything from “hurry up” to "get lost”! I got down from bus and pulled my three small but bookladen and very heavy bags towards me. My first order of business was to look for airtime as my phone that had credit was low on battery power and the one with battery power was without credit. “fat chance” I quickly found out as I looked around in vain, there was no recharge card seller in sight. I then crossed road in search of someone to ask directions to my Poly “wherever”. I noticed a young man and “yellow fever” ( local parlance for traffic warden) taking in the sights on a bench.

“ e ku ason, ejo nibo ni poly roundabout?” I inquired politely ( good afternoon, please where is poly roundabout).

“se new one ni abi old”? ( I had no idea there was more than one), “ I’m going to Afe Babalola University”, I explained.

“ah!, new one ni yen”. The trafiic warden got up and motioned for me to follow. He sought a bike for me and took the pains to describe my destination to the man. I shook my head in wonder, “small towns”. I couldn’t imagine a traffic warden in Lagos going out of his way to get you a bike and be this helpful. He would more likely arrest the bike for for having the audacity to pick a passenger in his presence. I balanced gingerly, bags and all and he rolled away at a pace the Lagos bikers would considerleisurely. When he coasted to a stop a short while later, I again shook my head. The only thing worse than arriving in a small town you’ve never been to is arriving Sunday at noon. There were very people about and all the shops were closed. I was hungry, tired, sweaty, and badly in need of a cleansing shower and a refreshing drink. I looked around and it seemed like I would get none of them.

Never mind, I consoled myself, I’m in a new town and there is always something to lean. I hoisted my bags and moved off in the direction of a sign that read, “Morroco relaxation and cool spot”. It was a beer parlour that appeared to be open. The verandah and sides had been extended to the road with metalbars and there were two men drinking beer leisurely.. “ se eni coke tutu?” I had to raise my voice to be heard over the blaring sounds from the Television set which was competing with the bike and bus sounds on the road.

“kosi coke o!, malt lo wa”. I gratefully dropped my bags and before I could sit down, the drink was in front of me. The bottle looked like it was coming from a barel of “yucky yuck” and I amost changed my mind.. The pack of straws resembled the pack of something designed for transmitting dysentery or something equally deadly. I touched the bottle and was comforted by its coolness. The girl opened it for me and I cleaned it as much as I could before lifting it to my lips. I ignored the straw completely and turned to watch the young lady walk away. She was heavily made up and dressed in form fitting multi-coloured top worn over a pair of black jeggings with “sexy” across her backside.. “small towns”, I thought to myself again as I settled down to enjoy my drink and update my travelogue on my BB. Ekiti Kete!

Summer is Coming

This is may, the month between the dry and wet season if you live in the tropics like me. It is also the month before the summer begins when airlnes and holiday resorts hike the prices and lick their lips in anticipation.
Summer is when most families get to go on holidays together because of the long break from school for the children. In the travel industry it is generally referred to as "high season". Almost every travel service costs more at this time; but is possible to save money and avoid losing all your savings simply because you want to holiday with your family

BOOK EARLY- it is a well known fact that the earlier you make your travel arrangements, the cheaper it is. When you book and pay ahead, you pay less for flights hotels, tours etc....to be continued

Ajala the traveller

There was a man in Nigeria called Ajala. It is reported that this man loved to travel so much, that e went round the world. He became very famous; songs were written in his honor and he was a legend of sorts. Till this day anyone who travels a lot or loves to travel is referred to as 'Ajala travel'.
Well I may not have travelled as much as Ajala, but I do love to travel. I love the excitement of meeting new people, seeing new places and realising that the world is bigger than me and my immediate environment. I want to share that love with you my reader.
In the course of my journeys and my life's work I havelearnt a few things about people and travel. i have found out you can actually make your travels more pleasurable. I will be sharing tips and tricks with you and hope you will share with me too.