Wednesday 16 March 2011

The first Lion is seen

The evening before leaving Bamako I met two Swiss cyclists. Jonas and Mark were on a 4 month tour from Morocco to Ghana. Our next country being the same we decided to ride together for a few days. I had initially planned to ride the southern road out from Bamako to Sikasso but they had interest in the easterly route, no real issue, easterly it was. We all had a good matched cycling pace, an important factor when cycling two or more. And yes, they are ski goggles that Jonas wears(!), something to do with eye problems from sand and grit. Riding with Jonas and Mark gave slight relief from the overwhelming solo attention that is received when filtering well-water, they used the same filter as mine. Not needing to reach their end destination until early April they decided to explore some of the Mali back-road routes before entering Burkina Faso and therefore we split after 5 days at the town of Koutiala. The previous day we left the main (red) road  at the town of Bla, as it veered east to Mopti, I was surprised to find this secondary (yellow) route we were now on was still tarmac, no complaints from me!

My next village destination was Kouri. Shown on the map at the junction where the secondary route I’d follow meets the main road again, heading into Burkina Faso. Unfortunately the afternoons pace wasn’t quite the same as the mornings. I was still following the same road, out of town, but after 1 mile or so the tarmac…sort of ended. I was now on a trail. Not sure of whether I was correct of not, but knowing the easterly route would have to eventually bring me to the main road once again, albeit a good 25 miles away. It’s not easy explaining what this trail was actually like, for all I new I may simply thin-out (if that were possible!!) into the vast open bush-like area of which is all I could see as far as the horizon. A few times the trail came to a ‘Y’ junction/split, here I had to use my initiative (and compass) and hope for the best as I pushed forward. 


 The only vehicles that could come down here were occasional mopeds, this at least gave me reassurance there would be villages, hidden from the trail by trees and dense bushes, of which meant water-wells, something that always plagued me. Stumbling across a few villages I filled bottles and pressed on, still unsure of what I was doing. The fairy on the right-hand shoulder saying “Mark, turn back”, the devil on the left-hand saying “Continue!” My speed was 6-7 mph of bump bump and bump. Certainly worse than the “Trans Gambian Highway” route I’d done, but a route I’d just love to do on my off-road trails bike, that would be 30 odd miles of pure bliss! With evening setting in and the stomach grumbling for food I could make out a village further down. On arriving I’d say I must have been the only westerner down here in a long time, possibly ever! I certainly caused quite a stir as I rode along their dusty ‘high street’. Spotting a large aluminium cooking pot at a stall meant this was a road-side (trail-side?) café, with the normal offerings of rice, along with a salad dish. Children and adults starring at me as I tucked into the dinner, something I had now got used to but didn’t mind, especially considering how little it cost, 100 francs (12 pence) and saved me all the hassle of cooking.
Cycling on a few more miles I pitched the tent in a suitable flat open space, I think this must have been the main intersection as three mopeds in half an hour passed by, waving at the drivers to show friendliness, greeted with a wave and smile back. Again, limited by words, the first 16 consecutive slideshow show pictures exactly what the route was like. Looking back now I laugh with 100% contentment, glad I listened to that little devil!!

 
Since first seeing this in Morocco I’ve been to show the ‘method’ by which roofs are supported whilst under construction.
 

Entering into Burkina Faso came with no hassle, apart from the new visa price, something to do with the French president up-setting the countries government last year. But the country not only gets the record for highest visa price but also the record for the largest gathering of kids flocking to see Toubab fill his water-bottles, all the kids cheering, shouting, excited… mind you, I do chase a few of them and make monster noises, this always makes them laugh, or scream, and see I’m funny, the parents like this as they see me as no threat, a few have asked me to take their children away!!


Each new country has slight changes, here the villages had round style huts, some large, some small, some with mud-brick walls built up along the side creating a fenced in family ‘compound’.
This tree looked quite out of place, really vibrant, lush green leaves, among the dry arid surrounding.

The greenery continues, paddy-fields en-route to Bobo-Dioulasso, the air
had a dense feel of humidity…something I’d soon be loathing.

Don’t ‘Oink’ your camera at me!

In Africa the bicycle is a major form of transport, here’s a few pictures showing typical usage.


The world largest bicycle manufacturer, Hero cycles (India).
Ouagadougou (pronounced wagadoogoo) is Burkina Faso’s capital. A relatively calm and tranquil city. From here I was tempted to go south and visit Ghana, mainly as English speaking and would be a good change, but the map shows this as quite flat, boring looking terrain, whereas Togo has a reasonable mountainous section, ok, maybe not as grand as the Atlas range but still a nice change, so east it was to Koupela, from where I’d take a right hand turn and drop south toward Togo.
It took only three days to reach the border, with crossing being simple enough, African country #7. The capital Lome (pronounced Lomay) was a good 7 days ride away, the same length of time on the visa before needing to be extended, this gave no allowance for any hick-ups or delays that may occur, with penalties should I be late. Having asked the border official to possibly give 10 days he informed me I could extend the visa in the town of Kara, 2 ½ day ride away, and for free…and issued 2 hours after applying. This meant not having to take a day off waiting, as normal.
The first night free-camping in Togo was the most uncomfortable night in a tent I’ve ever had. Mosquito’s, creepy crawlies, snakes? No, Heat! I had noticed the temperature the past few days creep up slightly. In the morning the sun generated winds start to blow, a comforting cool breeze, this helps for a good days ride. The hard and rocky ground after absorbing the day’s furnace like heat, is almost hot to touch. And once the sun drops the winds stop, no breeze, just heat, heat radiating back out from the sun baked ground.

Lying on my thin air mattress, no sleeping bag used, sweating from every pore…I should have bought that tent with the air-con. That was one nasty night, with no-doubt more to come.

The greenery of Togo certainly proved a good reason to cycle through here. Other cyclists books and blogs I’ve read all seem to ‘nip’ across the country from Ghana to Benin, I almost felt sorry for the country, so at least I was seeing what was on offer. At times it felt like I was in France, quiet, smooth roads with over-hanging trees and mountainous views.



I had to take a picture of this! Why didn’t they simply use a bit more dynamite and blow all the rock away? Surely it cost more money, and labour, to cut the lane through the rock? Was the rock cutting crew trying to prove their skills, or just make a large piece of art?

Occasionally finding a suitable free-camping spot can prove difficult, this night I asked if I could pitch behind a Catholic church I had seen, I was led to the village chief to ask permission (he's on the r.h. side), he said I could pitch behind either the church or school. The school turned out to be a good choice as it suppressed road noise from passing Lorries. That night I fell asleep under a lightening illuminated sky, not the slightest blip of thunder, or drop of rain, good job as I don’t use the tent’s rain-sheet, too warm for that!

The following night, after seeing another church I tried the same. (Note, mosques prove a bit too noisy at 5:20 in the morning for camping near “yahhhhhhhhhhhhhh”!!!!) An English speaking local man was called over and minutes later he tells me I can sleep at his. Mamminss led me to his family compound, as I start setting up my tent his sister says  I could sleep in here room, and she would use another bed, little did I know she would actually sleep outside on a concrete patio area. Later in the evening after a ‘bucket n scoop’ shower the mother cooks me a hearty spaghetti dinner. This is the sort of hospitality you can’t buy. It was a shame that Mamminss had no internet or email, staying in touch with people like this is something I like to do. He’d said to me the night before that we’d never meet again, but sometimes it’s the briefest of encounters with people like this and such acts of kindness that ensures they are etched into your mind for a permanent memory.
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Visa applications - the most tiresome process of the tour. Not wanting to be tied down entering countries on specific pre-arranged dates, almost impossible on a tour of such length, but obtaining visa’s at the border, where possible, is best suited, although this usually means trudging to the capital city each time for the 1 month extension. I’m presently in Cotonue, Benin’s ‘effective’ capital, now waiting for my Thursday appointment at the Nigerian embassy. I’ve drafted a ‘gold tongued’ letter explaining why I want to cycle through their country. Had the visa been obtainable at their border I’d have no need to extend the Benin [measly] 2 day visa, of which I collect Thursday morning.

Here’s what I’ve had so far;
Mauritania: £35 for one month entry, issued at embassy in Rabat, Morocco.
Mali: £24 border issued one month entry.
Burkina Faso: £58 border issued 7 day entry, free 1 month extn in Ouagadougou.
Togo: £12 border issued 7 day entry, free 1 month extn in Kara or Lome.
Benin: £12 border issued 2 day entry, £14 for 1 month extn in Cotonue.
Nigeria – let’s see!

Unfortunately Nigeria is a country still with a bad reputation based upon a previously high crime rate. Similar to how every westerner passing through Mauritania will be kidnapped I guess. Stories that are always passed on by people who have never visited the country, fuelling the fire of exaggeration. Let’s face facts, major cities in the UK have weekly youth gang stabbings, organised violence, pub brawls, theft, vandalism, car-jacking, and government corruption,….but people still go there and continue their day-to-day life, the UK is far from innocent. So hopefully as I cycle through Nigeria and report my findings I can refresh your views on the country and help polish its tarnished image.

Roar!! Here she is, my first Lion, what? Only you assumed it would be real!!
From now on I intend to update the blog at the end of each country, rather than squeese 
several into one post as I’ve been doing, hopefully you’ll enjoy the content all the same.

And remember to check-out the new slideshow pictures.

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