Ciao Ciao, and a merry festive season to all ~ hope the weather is fine and hot if at the beach, or dumping down with fresh snow somewhere up in those mountains.. have a BLAST!
I am now in Bamako, Mali's capital. Crossed the border a few days back and just as leaving Nioro, a town up in the north just over the Mauritania border my pannier carriage broke, for the upteenth time. The first repairs came were in Dakhla, Morocco, when the whole carriage decided to snap - got it welded by a family of mechanics, but who didn't do the greatest of jobs because as soon as I got into Nouadibhou, Mauritania the same place snapped again - again, another job to be done there, but at almost a quarter of the price as in Morocco. That job was better and lasted me throughout the country but outside Nioro she decided to go again..EISH! So, standing there somewhat stranded on the side of the road unable to ride a convoy of french cars pulled over and offered to give me a ride into the capital - the repsonse was immediate!
The Road of Hope is what alot of French and Belgians do, it's basically the road from the Gibralter crossing, northern tip of Morocco, through Mauritania and into Bamako Mali where they sell the cars at ridiculous prices,compared to what they were bought for. Mostly Mercedez vans, Mercs are everywhere here in North/West Africa. Bought for about a 100 euros in France they can be sold here for four or five times the amount - thats if you know the right people. The convoy turned out to be a father and daughter combo, each with their own vehicle, and then Jean-Pierre, who used to be a drummer for well known band in France but is now an electrician, but has all the characteristics, or qualities rather, of a ''rocker'': thin as a rake, smokes Marlboro reds, and plenty at that, wears ripped and faded jeans and only seems to possess a t-shirt once the sun has set - mind you driving in this intense heat without aircon I'd do the same, but sometimes I wonder in these Arabic countries - Mali is still muslim.
We puyt the bike into the back of one of the vans and I hopped into the daughters car - Aude, her name, turned 18 in November and got her license three weeks before driving the 6500kms down Morocco, through the desert and into this mad hustle and bustle that is Bamako. Found it difficult to get comfortable in the nice Merc seats when the roads are filled with potholes and the driver still very wet behind the ear, but and I can safely say this now because we have arrived in the capital, Aude, like her father who has been doing this trip for the past 15 years has a heavy right foot, just to keep up with with her dad careering down thr oad in front of us, Jean-Pierre in hot pursuit. The trip takes them 8 days from France.
Now in Bamako. A big capital with the Niger river running through it. The chinese bombarded the market 2 years ago with this little KTM, not the original, bike, sort of like scooters, and every man and woman here drives one so the air in the city is filthy with most people riding around with something to cover their mouth and nose, even pedestrians doing the same. But the atmosphere is incredible, especially compared to that of Mauritania where the people are hard because the living is tough when in a desert. There are more people in this cty than throughout Mauritania, and the traditional dress one sees most often there is replqced here with more western clothing, but not your Dolce gaban fakes etcetera but t-shirts and shorts, although the women still cover their heads- but everywhere you just see colours, and against a very dark Malian skin makes it all the more striking.
I opted to go around Senegal due to some bits of pieces of info I'd picked up from various other travellers having come that way and decided to head east out of Nouakchott for the Mali border close to a thousand kilomteres away. There are placesd and villages where you can't even imagine to think that people could live there, and where they get their water. The food is as basic as it gets and hot as all hell, and this is the coller winter months. Days would go as follow: ride until it got too hot, around 10 and then find a home or camel herder with a tent to share his shade, and then wait the day away until 5pm and then back on the bike to do the main stretches throughtout the night, until about midnight and then find either a quiet little spot to set up camp or a home to ask to camp outside.. normally waking everyone up but not seeming to bother them, I think they were more intrigued with this foreigner popping out of the blue on a bicycle! The food is basic, lots of dried dates, bread called 'five fingers': little minin baguetts that come stuck otgether in a set of 5 and then some sort of cous cous but not.. still not sure what it was but it tasted good with the sauce, also not sure what from. Water came from wells scattered about, some reaching as deep as 20metres and here are these woman hauling up litres and litres a day.. power!
Mali has been short and sweet thus far. Loving the vibes, the people and generally peolpe are always smiling and wishing you a bonjour - most speak french or if not Bamara.
Sheizen, my hour is up and I must be off to go and see how my new team of mechanics are doing on my bike.
I know this is too short and very vague for all that I have seen, experienced and tasted, but I'd have to sit here for hours to try explain all the sights and sounds.. in a nutshell, just AWESOME!
Merry Merry from Mali!
