Janet's diary. Travelling with Ollie in Africa
Wednesday 21st January 1998. Leaving Mali entering Burkina Faso
Leaving The Dogon Valley behind us our next place was the town of Bankass. It was not far to the "main" road and from then on until Bankass the condition of the track was quite reasonable. Stopping in the centre off the town, Steve stayed with Ollie while I went to purchase bread and bottled water. Bankass was the usual ramshackle Malian town of mud dwelling and dusty streets and we didn't linger before striking out for the town of Koro. From Bankass to Koro the road became very difficult, extremely dusty, choking clouds of the stuff thrown up by passing traffic it was getting in our eyes, nose and throat and poor old Ollie was getting coated inside and out. We had been told that this road is often impassable in the rains.
Koro was our point of departure from Mali and into Burkina Faso. Entered the police post with some trepidation because this was our first border crossing using our emergency passports. But, fortune was with us and a helpful officer, after we had explained our predicament, completed the formalities without further ado and after that, at the customs post, an equally efficient officer stamped our Carnet and then it was time to say goodbye to Mali. We were sad to be leaving and even though we'd had some bad luck Mali had been a fascinating country and the people warm and welcoming. If we had not been pressed for time by the loss of our passports we would have stayed a lot longer.
It was another fifty kilometres on a rather bad road with some deep sand in places before arriving at the Burkina Faso border town of Tiou where once more, with trepidation, we entered the police station, not knowing how they would view our unusual passports. We needn't have worried as we were greeted by a very smart and pleasant policeman who spoke quite good English. He read the letter that Violet had written and got us to fill out entry forms. Once this was done he stamped our passports then shook our hands and wished us a pleasant stay in his country. Again, at customs with our carnet we were dealt with in a pleasant and efficient manner and after paying a tax of 4,250 CFA we entered Burkina Faso. This, even with our unusual passports had been one of the easiest and quickest border crossings since we started out.
Driving south we soon joined a good tar road which was a nice change after all the dust and bumping around that we had experienced over the previous days. At 3pm we arrived at the town of Ouahigouya where at a market I was able to buy 2 kilos of potatoes, a kilo of tomatoes a kilo of onions and a large cabbage for 2,000 CFA, a bargain, I also managed to buy bananas and mangoes.
The road took us south once more and the country-side here, although dry, was quite interesting. Most of the books that I have read described Burkina as having an uninteresting landscape, I would disagree. Wherever there was any water, vegetables were being cultivated in neat and beautifully tended plots of land. Men were constantly watering the crop, walking up and down the rows of vegetable carrying a watering can in each hand.
A further 40 odd kilometres and we reached the town of Gourci and on the outskirts a little roadside, restaurant, bar and disco. The entrance was through a hole in a fence which led into a dusty courtyard dotted around with a few rickety chairs and tables where we sat under the shade of an awning while a young boy served us with two large bottles of warm beer. We shared one and put the other in our fridge for dinner time.
Back on the road and heading for the town of Yako it was time to camp for the night. Finding a dirt track where we could drive off the main road and get well into the bush we then drove for about a kilometre through a dried out flood plain that had recently been burned leaving a blackened stubble of reed. The vegetation was mainly of shrubs and small trees.
Steve parked Ollie in a small thicket that concealed us from the road and then set up our awning for some shade, even this late in the afternoon the sun was still very strong. I made up our beds in the truck and then prepared a tuna salad while Steve had a spell on the laptop trying to catch up on the newsletter.
After our meal we sat at our table drinking coffee and listening to the world service on the radio before turning in at 8pm, both shattered as usual. At about 1am we both woke up dying for a pee, I nipped out of the Ollie, hearing something moving around in the bushes I accomplished this very quickly and was back in the truck at some speed, being a very dark moonless night I couldn't see anything. We really shouldn't drink so much before turning in. Day 69.Mileage from the start of the Falaise, 323 miles.
Thursday 22nd January.
The road to Ouagadougou was well maintained and for a change devoid of potholes. Considering this is one of the poorest countries in Africa they do appear to be trying to improve their country, which is a lot more than some of the countries that we have visited.nArriving in Ouagadougou at 10.30 we discovered another very busy city but one with nice wide streets and a much more laid back feel after frenetic Bamako and although traffic was heavy it was travelling at a slower pace. Because it was not possible to camp in Ouagadougou we decided not to linger and instead press on to the southern city of Bobo-Dioulasso.
Near to the outskirts of Ouagadougou we found a small supermarket and were pleasantly surprised at the reasonable prices and then nearby I brought a huge pineapple plus a large melon from a street trader for 700CFA. While loading our purchases into Ollie we were approached by a young man. He spoke perfect English and told us that he was a refugee from Liberia and had come to Burkina to escape the war in his country and was now making his way to Ghana. He asked us if we could give him a lift. Steve said this was not possible as we were heading for Abidjan, but he felt sorry for him as his tale was such a plausible one that Steve gave him a thousand CFA to help him on his way. We have heard so many sad tales, but which ones do you believe!
At a small roadside bar, in reality just a corrugated iron shack we shared a large beer while sitting in the shade and watching the world go by. A young boy came into the bar, he'd had both legs amputated above the knee and propelled himself along on a small trolley, he had such a beautiful smile, nearly all those in the bar put a few coins in his tin can but oh so many times Africa can break your heart.
It was around noon when we finally left Ouagadougou and headed south again. The road continued to be very well maintained which is more than could be said of some of the vehicles using it. Old wrecks of Lorries and buses coming towards us were "crabbing" so badly that it was impossible to tell which side of the road they were supposed to be driving on. Along the way we continued to see more wonderful vegetable gardens, each one a little oasis of green in the dry and dusty landscape.
Just before the town of Sabou I spotted, in the middle of a field, a group of around two dozen women and children gathered around a well pump. Steve Parked Ollie I went and enquired if we could have some water. They indicated that we were very welcome so Steve brought our jerry cans over and a couple of the girls helped him to fill them. While this was going on I collected a couple of empty water bottles, a bag of salt and a bag of sugar from the Ollie and gave them to the women while we sat and talked. With the cans filled everyone came back with us to admire Ollie, then before leaving I gave a packet of biscuits to the two girls who pumped the water and asked them to share them around. We thanked them all and waiving goodbye we took to the road again.
In the early afternoon we arrived at the town of Boromo.The further south that we travelled the hotter it became and we were now very hot, but acclimatising quite well. While driving through the town we saw some white people sitting at a pavement cafe. Now, it's funny, but when you see people of your own race in these remote places you want to know who they are and what they are doing, so we stopped Ollie and wandered over to the cafe and ordered Cokes. They had obviously spotted our licence plate as within a couple of minutes one of them came over to ask us if we had driven from Jersey. After introductions he told us that he came from Guernsey and was now living in Paris. He and a friend had been in Togo and were now on their way to Mali, it's a small world.
Saying goodbye, we left Boromo and began looking for a spot to camp for the night. Just past the oddly named village of Pa, finding a place well off the main road we set up our awning and enjoyed a cup of tea before beginning our preparations for the night. The chef's speciality for this evening was corned beef hash,not bad but it is getting a trifle repetitious. By 6pm our beds in the truck were made, washing up done and most of our gear loaded onto the roof of the truck. We then relaxed and enjoyed the cool evening air writing up our logs and drinking coffee before turning in at about 8.30. Day 70. Mileage 348.
Friday 23rd January
of bed at 6.30am another beautiful day in Africa. Our routine is well established now and by a quarter to nine we had eaten breakfast, washed ourselves and packed Ollie ready for the road.
On the way to the town of Houné. We deduced that it was market day as all along the way we'd encountered hundreds of people, some were carrying amazing loads on bicycles, some leading donkeys loaded down, others walking, carrying produce on their heads.In the town we saw, as we had in other towns along the way, small children, some looked no more than 4or 5years old, each carrying an empty tin in which to collect anything that people might give them. Many of these children are homeless because of AIDS with their parents dead and the extended family destroyed they have no one to look after them and have no choice but to live on the streets.They are a very, very sad sight something we westerners find difficult to cope with, it is a major problem that Africa must face.
Arriving in the city of Bobo-Dioulasso at about half past ten, a bustling city with wide sweeping streets roofed over by the foliage of huge Mango trees providing cool shade for the old colonial buildings lining the streets everything stained red with dust. Bo-Bo is Burkina Faso's second largest city and was long the countries economic capital nowadays life moves at a slower pace here in a city that still has great style and character.
We had the name of a campement but it took us a good half an hour to locate "Casafrica" it was well worth the effort. Casafrica a small guest house in the city's dusty suburbs had a shady walled garden in which to park Ollie. As we drove up the gates were quickly opened for us to drive into a small parking area where Steve tucked Ollie in beside a huge old blue German "Hanomag" truck and after a friendly reception we were soon enjoying a cold beer on the veranda.
Suitably refreshed we took a stroll into the town through hot and dusty streets; Bo-Bo is a very dusty city. We went in search of a famous patisserie, "La Bonne Miche", a legendry place among overlanders and reputed to sell the best "Pain au Raisin" in Africa. We found the shop, its shelves crammed with delicious goodies and after purchasing cakes we wandered on through the streets, Bo-Bo had a wonderful laid-back feeling and for once we weren't being pursued by touts. We came across a small cafe with a veranda overlooking the street that we liked the look of and now with tummies rumbling we sat down and ordered tea and ham rolls. This took some time to appear as someone had to be sent up the road to buy some ham! But, it was very nice when it did arrive, although expensive at 4,500CFA, probably the cost of the ham!
From the cafe we went to the Grande Marche a very large market in the centre of the city here you could buy anything from fruit and veg to all sorts of manufactured goods and crafts. Wandering between the tightly packed stalls we felt quite at ease, it was a fascinating place where we could buy at very reasonable prices without being hassled.
Back at Casafrica we had a reunion with a Swiss couple who we'd met at Layonne Plage in Morocco. Max and Marie-Rose were travelling in a converted ambulance and had recently been in Gao to see the Paris Dakar rally. It was nice to sit on the veranda sipping a beer and enjoying a natter about our experiences. Later in the afternoon we set up our tent and then had shower, truly wonderful, lots of water pressure and a very clean bathroom. It's interesting to note that after all these weeks on the road, one really appreciates the simple things in life. We had been told that the food at Casafrica was excellent and so had our dinner in their restaurant. I had a very nice mixed salad as a starter followed by beef brochette and chips while Steve had a steak au poivre; such a nice change from our staple, veggie omelette. We enjoyed our pan au raisin with a cup of coffee back at the truck before climbing up to the tent at 10pm. It was great to be sleeping in the tent again instead of inside the truck, much cooler, this was my first really good sleep in quite a while.
Day 71. Mileage 229.Saturday 24th January.
I got up at 6.15am with a plan to do some laundry. There was a proper laundry area at the back of the bar next to the kitchen and I decided that we would spend another day here and get all our laundry up to date. Steve didn't take much persuading and I set about rubbing and scrubbing in true native style for the next couple of hours only taking a break at 9am for breakfast in the restaurant, tea, bread, yoghurt and home made orange juice.
The day was getting hotter and it is generally getting much hotter the further south we travel. In reality I think that it's not so much the temperature but more the humidity that is rising. Washing clothes by hand was very hot and tiring work but chatting with a Dutch girl doing her washing at the next sink helped to make the work easier. She and a friend had travelled up from Ghana by local bus and, having seen the condition of the buses in this part of Africa I said that I thought that they were very brave. She told me that they had really enjoyed Ghana and they were now heading towards Mali and the Dogon so we were able to exchange lots of useful information. By mid morning I'd had enough of doing laundry and was more than happy to hand over the rest, our towels and sheets, to one of the girls from the guest house who'd turned up and offered to help.
While I had been doing laundry Steve had been catching up on the newsletter and now as I went back to Ollie to make some coffee Herman and Gunter, the two German lads from the old blue Hanomag appeared. They were just about to set off into to town to see a doctor. Gunter was suffering from Malaria and had been very ill for the last few days. He'd already had some treatment but was going to the doctor to see if he was taking the correct drugs as he still felt very ill, he looked really poorly. Day 72
Sunday 25th January.
We were out of bed early and packing up to leave, we would have loved to spend another day or two at Casafrica but the 30th of January, the expiry date for our temporary passports, was looming large and we would have to get a move on. After saying our goodbyes to Max and Marie-Rose and Herman and Gunter we took our leave of this little travellers haven in Bobo-Dioulasso.
Before departing the city we drove into the centre to purchase some supplies, it was market day and the town was really busy it was all so vibrant and colourful I was beginning to wish we could stay longer. Steve stayed with Ollie while I went to purchase fresh bread, fruit and veg. Making my way back with my shopping, picking my way along a crowded pavement, I came face to face with a very wild looking man. His hair was matted and filthy and thinking something about him was odd I looked down and with a shock realised that he was stark naked. He was the first of a number of these strange people that we would see in West Africa, I quickly stepped to one side of him and hurried on my way.
We reached Banfora just before 1pm and now realised that we had not seen the turning for Sindu a place we had wanted to visit. Now in the centre of the town on market day; Sunday seems to be a popular day for markets. The road was crowded with people and we drove along at walking pace, the throng parting to let us through. Realising our mistake, Steve turned Ollie around and slowly picked our way back through the crush of people and animals eventually locating the turning for Sindu, a fairly reasonable dirt road lined with huge shady trees which made for a pleasant drive. Our plan was visit a place called the Chutes de Karfiguela and to see if we could camp there, instead, as the road was better than expected, we decided to continue onwards to the 'Pics de Sindu' (rock formations) and see if we could camp there instead. Coming upon a split in the road and being unsure of which road to take, we asked a couple of lads on a moped, who were stopped by the roadside, for directions. They said that that was where they were going and we could follow them. Now the road deteriorated somewhat with potholes and some patches of soft sand. The youngsters seemed to be having some difficulty in controlling their machine when suddenly they skidded on a patch of leaves and both went flying. Luckily we were going slowly at a safe distance behind or we would have run over them. We could now see the reason why they were having trouble. The guy on the pillion was holding a car battery and an alternator in between the pair of them! They dusted themselves down and luckily had only suffered a few superficial cuts and bruises, the moped although a little bent was still rideable. Loading the battery and the alternator in the back of our truck we set off once more. Arriving in Sindu we returned their goods to them and I got out the first aid kit and cleaned and patched their injuries.
Spotting a small bar, which was just really just a few rickety table and chairs under a reed shelter, we joined some locals for a well earned beer, then little later we stopped Ollie by the road for a lunch time sandwich before going to find the 'Pics'. We came upon two guys sitting under a little shelter by the roadside one of whom told us that he was the guardian and that his friend was the guide to the 'Pics', they requested 2,000 CFA for entrance and a guided tour.
After paying our money we set off with our guide. The 'Pics; are a three kilometre chain of sculptured crags, the predominant sandstone having been eroded by the elements into spectacular towers and needles some as high as fifty metres, topped with precarious rocky crowns. Amongst the rocks we found the remains of an ancient village, just the floors and walls of the houses remaining, overgrown with trees, the ground scattered with shards of old pottery. We spent a good hour making our way to the highest point, a very hard climb in tremendous heat, but well worth it, and with spectacular views of the surrounding countryside.
It was 5.30pm when we thanked and said goodbye to our guide and set off to find ourselves somewhere to camp for the night. We passed several small villages set amongst cultivated fields their thatched conical houses drawing long shadows in the evening sunlight. We looked at various spots along the road but the bush was very thick and none were suitable for camping. We came to a junction and a sign to the 'Lacs de Tengrela' and went to see if we could camp there.
On the way to the lake we were driving through a small fishing village and now the sun was a huge red ball setting behind the houses, through the dust and the smoke of cooking fires it was lighting everything in a deep red glow, quite spectacular. The lakeshore was busy with people and didn't look like a suitable spot for camping. We drove back along the road for a short way and saw a sign advertising a bar restaurant pointing to a small mud-walled compound.Just then a young African lad popped his head through the gates and enquired if he could help us. We told him that we were looking for a place to camp for the night to which he smiled and said that we were welcome to camp in their compound.
The gates were opened and Steve just managed to squeeze Ollie in amongst the mud dwellings, which he seemed to tower over. Once inside the entire family came to greet us with their children and babies. With everything set up for the night we joined the chief and some of the older men in their "Bar", beer was brought and we tried to hold a conversation, which without a common language was rather difficult, but, with our poor French and much gesticulating we managed to be understood. We noticed that the women didn't sit with us but stayed at a discreet distance and didn't join in the talk.
The chief asked us if we would like to eat and said that they would cook chicken and rice for us. While this was going on the young man who we had met first asked us if we would like to visit his house. He showed us around the compound which was very clean and tidy, with the earth floor well swept, there was even a proper capped, long-drop toilet and a reed walled bucket shower room. In his hut we were introduced to his wife, a slightly built young girl who was suffering from a nasty cough. The hut was very clean and tidy but had little furniture just basic straw beds, rickety wooden chairs and a table. In one corner there was an open fire with a pot bubbling on it and some more pots stacked neatly. The few positions they owned were stored in another corner. Compared to us with our huge amount of possessions they live a very basic life.Back at the bar we continued our stilted conversion with chief and the rest of the men then, when our meal arrived the chief asked the others to leave us to eat in peace. A bucket of water and some soap was brought so that we could wash our hands before enjoying a very tasty meal of spiced chicken and rice although there was not a lot of meat on the chicken, but there never is anyway.
As soon as we had finished they all returned to sit with us again and continued our conversation in broken French. One of the men offered to take us in his pirogue to see the Hippo's which he said lived in the lake. We arranged to go with him before dawn the next day although we were a bit doubtful about seeing Hippo's as it appears that most of the wildlife of West Africa has already been eaten. Thanking our hosts for a very pleasant evening we bid them goodnight and climbed the ladder to bed at 10.30pm. Day 73. Mileage 91.
Week 12. Monday 26th January
I enjoyed a very peaceful night's sleep and was woken by the sound of movement outside the tent; it was 5.45 and still dark.Dressing quickly we climbed down from the tent and found our young friend, Abdoulay, waiting for us. As we walked down towards the lake the sky was just starting to lighten with pale glow in the east.Several pirogues were moored at the lakeside. Abdoulay pulled his in and we climbed aboard. It took a couple of minutes to get us sorted out, water had to be bailed from the bottom and the craft balanced. He poled us out from the shore through a raft of water lilies with huge flat leaves and beautiful blue flowers. It was so tranquil, the surface of the lake was mirror smooth disturbed only by fish jumping and breaking the surface into circular ripples. The sun was just beginning to peep above the horizon the mist still clinging in patches to the surface of the water and here we were just drifting along listening to the sound of the birds greeting the new day.It was one of those moments in your life that you will always remember and to make the experience complete as we drifted towards some tall reeds we heard the unmistakable sound of Hippos grunting. Abdoulay poled the Pirogue quite close to them and we were able to count about ten, wallowing about with just their eyes showing, not at all bothered by our presence, they carried on grunting and preparing to spend the day lazing around in the lake.By now the sun was rising, a huge red ball turning the lake a soft pink, these moments are so brief, the magic is soon broken. Abdoulay pulled a water lily flower from the lake and deftly snapped the long stem into inch long segments creating a garland that he then hung around my neck. By now the world was waking up and fishermen were coming down to their boats, it was time for us to return to the shore. We had taken quite a lot of Photographs so we should have some permanent reminders of a very special morning.
Back at the compound I made breakfast and a large pot of tea for everyone then after we had eaten we packed the tent and bedding away and prepared for the road. Finally as we had promised we took family photographs of proud fathers holding their babies standing alongside coy and giggling wives. We thanked them all for their hospitality and bade them farewell.
Issa, one of the chief's sons came with us to be our guide to the Chutes de Karfiguela. These water falls are located in a beautiful verdant setting about twelve k's from the lake. It was good that Issa came with us because we would never have found them on our own as the road took us along narrow dikes between rice paddies and through fields of sugar cane that we would never have thought of driving along. Finally reaching the base of the falls we parked Ollie and then walked through a cool shady avenue of the most enormous Mango trees I have ever seen.
The Cascades, as they were known locally, had quite a lot of water flowing over them although Issa said that after the rains they were a great deal more impressive. The day was really hotting up and it was quite hard work climbing to the top of the falls along a narrow path and over huge boulders, but worth the effort as it was quite a stunning view from the top. Leaving the Cascades Issa took us back through the sugar cane fieldsto visit some more rock formations, called the 'Dom', not as big as the Sindou Pics, but still quite impressive.
Our next visit was to a sugar cane distillery, Issa had a friend who worked in the laboratory where we were introduced to the technicians and the boss, a very pleasant gentleman who then called in a colleague who could speak very good English. He explained the whole process to us, of how they made spirits from Molasses extracted from the sugar cane. It seems to have been started ten years before and over the years they been expanding and improving their product range.They made two kinds of Whisky, two Rums, one light and one dark, Gin and Pastis. It was all done with very basic equipment, but they were hoping one day to attract some foreign investment and expand even more. The bottles that they showed us had very "Authentic" looking labels, but heaven knows what it tasted like as unfortunately they didn't offer us a tasting.
We drove back into Banfora town, arriving there at 11.30 and then took Issa to a Pharmacy to get some medicine for his little girl before dropping him off where he could get a bus back to his village. We paid him 7,000cfa for being our guide to the area which we had enjoyed immensely then we waved him goodbye and set out on the road to the Cote D'Ivoire.