Ouagadougou the noo!

Yo dudes - well, gosh its been a busy week or so. If I hadnt had Timmy the dog for company and lashings and lashings of homemade ginger beer, I dont know what Id have done. Actually, the only lashing Ive had was a verbal one from the customs official in Timbuktu for not having the paperwork for Naartjie in order, but thats another story.

So, whats been going on? Well, I escaped Nouakchott and got to Bamako in Mali in 2 long days with some more clandestine bush camping en route. Mali is ace, as we would have said in 1986. Here are 4 key things I observed there:

1. Mali is a nation of motorcyclists - which was a nice surprice. Everyone seems to have a bike of some sort, be it a Chinese copy of a CG125 or a metallic pink moped that isnt a copy of anything. Cool.

2. Beer is plentiful and quite cheap. Cool.

3. Claire will kill me for saying this, but Malian women are very beautiful. I dont think its so much about how they look, but the graceful way they glide along when either walking or on pink mopeds. They even look graceful when carrying a bucket of water on their heads. Cool.

4. There is a really big river in Mali that is confusingly called the Niger [which is also the name of a country]. Someone told me that it doesnt flow into the sea, and instead has an inland delta, whatever that is. Im not sure I believe them - its extraordinarily big, so the water must go somewhere!

Anyway, we [me and Naartjie] rode from Bamako on to Segou, Mopti and Douentza, before taking the hellishly-corrugated 200km piste up to Timbuktu. I have to confess that Timbuktu was a bit of a disappointment, though I did see the house were Gordon Laing, Queen Victorias envoy, stayed for 3 days in 1826 before the locals killed him. There was also a big mosque made of mud that they have to rebouild every year. And lots of souvenir sellers. And not enough tourists for all the souvenir sellers!

After that, it was a ferry back across the Niger [did I mention how big it is?] and home to Douentza, where I stayed at the excellent Chez Jerome run by an ex Paris-Dakar Rally racer called, erm, Jerome. On the way back to Doutentza, on the Tibuktu piste, where there had been almost no traffic, I met another British motorcyclist! His name is Paul Hurcomb, and hes also heading South. Bizarre. Anyway, were planning a meet up later this week to reminisce about mushy peas.

The next day, I did an awesome piste from Doutentza to Koro along the side of the Bandiagara escarpement and through Dogon country. The Dogon villages were amazing and the ride was a real high-point.

Now its Burkina Faso [formerly Upper Volta for the older reader]. Currently waiting for a visa for Ghana [wasnt in the original plan, but I quite fancy a change from trying to speak French]. The exotically named capital, Ouagadougou is pretty cool, though I did get lightly run over by a moped this morning.

Hope all is well and, if anyone is still reading, cheers!

(Btw, the pic here is of the result of some slightly over-zealous parking by a lorry getting onto the Timbuktu ferry.)