Part Three - The great Train Robbery
Well here we are in good old Bobo Dioulasso (Burkina Faso) and travelling a little lighter than last time we emailed from Nouakchott.
We cycled from Nouakchott down to the Senegalese border with two Belgian cyclists we met on the convoy. There were lots of small villages alongside the road and overloaded lorries whose drivers always waved to us. At night we free camped amongst the dunes and managed to draw crowds of fascinated Mauritanians as we pitched the tents. A lot of them lived in tents full time and didnt seem to find it strange that we were camping.
In spite of it being desert there were plenty of insects. One night was especially bad and grasshoppers and locusts the size of small mice flew into our soup as we tried to drink it. Jonny got a nasty shock when he turned around and saw a huge scorpion racing towards his backside. With a shout he leaped to his feet. He managed to jump on the scorpion and kill it but poor old Jonny didnt sit still for too long without looking behind him after that.
We had a great time in Richard Toll just over the Senegalese border. The Senegalese children didnt run away from us like the Mauritanian ones and we always had crowds of spectators. The four of us got a room at a flash hotel with a swimming pool and spent a couple of days lounging in the pool and eating melons.
After Richard Toll we continued to follow the river Senegal eastwards. There were lots of thorn trees and at one stage we got four punctures within 400 metres. The locals took pity on us when we decided to give up cycling for the day and put us up at the local maternity clinic. We shared a meal with the staff in the evening and got to meet lots of locals and their offspring.
Every few days a convoy of Toubobs (local name for whities) would pass. A lot of these cars were being driven down from Europe to be donated for charity.
After two very solid day of cycling (180kms on one day) we reached Bakel. Jonny developed a fever and got quite sick so we checked into the Hotel Islam for a few rest days. In spite of its name it was the best place in town to buy beer. Our balcony overlooked the lively town centre and there was always something going on. At one stage the Noxos (Maggi spice) van was doing a promotional giveaway of plastic buckets. Our landlady (wed fondly dubbed her BIG MAMMA) pushed her way to the front of the line with ease to claim her prizes.
Later on that day a madman bound hand and foot with rope was dropped in the square by a van. He ate dirt, rolled about; and made his belly button pop out for several inches. When he pointed at people they ran away screaming. Very interesting but we werent quite sure what it was all about. We also spent time wandering around the backstreet which were filled with interesting characters.
After couple of days of being sick, Jonny was feelng well enough to continue, so we headed for the local taxi area. After negotiating a fee, we settled down to wait for the other seats in the taxi to fill up. Three hours later and we were off. An hour later wed got to the border and passed out of Senegal. So far so good. Then bad luck struck us. Danny had a visa for Mali, but Jonny didnt as he was travelling on his french passport and the Lonely Planet reckoned that french citizens didnt need a visa for Mali - wrong Lonely Planet they do! The border guards should have said that Jonny could get a visa in Bamako, but they didnt, and being a sunday we couldnt contact any embassies to find out if it was true or not. They insisted that he pay an 18000CFA fine, plus 5000CFA for the visa (about 23 quid all up). He had no choice but to pay. Okay so we were in Mali, and the jury was still out on the country.
Next we caught a bush taxi to Kayes. We jumped in the back of a ute (pickup truck) that should have taken 8 people at a tight fit. Ours though managed 16. It was a squash but the crew were mostly pretty cool, so overall the ride wasnt that bad. Our plan was to continue on from Kayes to Bamako by train. All we needed to do was change money. Pretty easy youd think - Wrong. After two days of walking around the banks trying to change travellers cheques and US dollars, and constantly being told to come back tomorrow we were getting quite worried as the money situation was desperate. Then fate smiled on us. We were waiting in a bank hoping that they would get so sick of us, that theyd change our money, when in walked a freindly south african Toubob. He was working at the local gold mine and had come to the bank to get money for the payroll. The bank however didnt have enough money available (cest la Mali), so he was pretty pissed off. Luckily he was leaving the country soon and was more than happy to change 100US for us.
We left Kayes the next day on the train. First class because Jonny was still a little under the weather. The ride was comfortable, and the carriage was packed full of freindly characters. Amongst them was a german fella wed met at the border called Ue. He was trying to get to Ghana with no money or obvious possesions. Where do these people come from? Danny thought he might be an axe murderer, but Jonny thought he was probably just an escaped mental patient. Anyway, the journey was great. We passed lots of small viallages made up of rondavel huts, stopping at many of them. At one stage the train stopped in the bush and started to reverse to the confusion of all the passengers. After about 6kms we stopped. Everyone got off to have a look at what was going on. It turned out that three carriages had become disconnected and wed left them behind (the perrils of travelling second class ay).
Anyway, we arrived in Bamako after dark. Immediatly upon arrival, the lights in the train went out. Thirty seconds of confusion later and Dannys bag had gone walkabout. Bugger. Danny took off to try and find the thief while Jonny watched the rest of the stuff. It had completly dissappeared. We didnt bother filling out a police report because they wanted money for it, and were more than likely in league with the thieves anyway. We caught a taxi to the mission lebanese, a local hotel, where the other travellers were really sympathetic (Thanks to Pam, Tom, and Frederick for donating a bit of gear to get us back on track). What a night.
The next day we had to go back to the station to get our bikes. After a bit of a scare with them not finding Jonnys bike, everything was sorted and we bailed. We spent a couple of days in Bamako, getting gear and money (what is it with Mali), then bailed south towards Sikkasso and Burkina Faso. It was good to be back on the bikes, and we noticed immediatly a change for the better in peoples atttitude towards us. We were no longer regarded as rich white guys, but as crazy cyclists.
The ride between Sikkasso, Mali and Bobo Dioulasso, Burkina F. involved a bit of off road. It made a nice change from the norm, and also meant that there was heaps less traffic. Not that there has been much anyway. It was quite a scenic ride with the first hills in ages. Spent a night in the bush before getting to Bobo, where we are at present.
Next, were heading to Ouagadougou to get our ghanian visas, before heading to Accra to meet Steph (Jonnys sister) for xmas. Well try and do an update there, but if we dont we hope you all have a really cool christmas.
