The Journey to Timbuktu...

Yes, Timbuktu really does exist - and what a journey to get there!
Despite all of the difficulties we would encounter and the bad luck we
would have along the way, this was an amazing trip - well worth doing!
Our bad luck streak started before we even left Canada! Each airline we
tried to book on went out of business, and when we finally found a solvent
one, we weren't sure that it would get us home, but we took our chances
anyway. We had nothing to lose and we really wanted to get to Timbuktu!
We arrived in Dakar, Senegal, but our luggage did not! It finally showed
up 48 hours later, after we had spent many hours and lots of money on clothing
and essentials (underwear was $25.00 a pair!) Our tour leader then informed
us that Air Mali was bankrupt and would not be flying us from Timbuktu
to Bamako at the end of our trip. We would have to travel by land - a 2-day
delay. Oh well! We would have to change the date on our tickets. All problems
aside, and the heat, our group (comprised of Americans, Brits and Norwegians
ranging in age from 34 - 76), enjoyed a lovely day touring around and seeing
the sights such as Ile de Goree, which, despite its sad slave trade history,
had a lively, colourful and very mediterranean feel. Dakar, once a beautiful
old French Colonial city, is now just full of deteriorated old buildings.
The city is a music mecca, a "must see" if you are a fan of Senegalese
music!
We departed Senegal on what we later nicknamed the "cockroach express".
The Dakar - Bamako train is scheduled to take 28 hours, but actually took
40!
I'm sure it has not been cleaned since the French gave it to them many
years ago! We set about disinfecting our compartment with detol, and although
it was no less grimy than when we started, at least it felt cleaner. (We
wore earplugs at night to keep out the cockroaches - ughh!). Among the
many things one could purchase at the colourful stations along the way
were lovely straw fans. These were as close as we came to air conditioning.
The open window on the 25km/hour train just didn't cut it! The dining car
had a set menu comprising of one dish only! It wasn't too bad considering
the kitchen conditions. Sometimes we dined there, and other times we bought
lovely French baguettes out of the train window, as we passed through mud/thatch
villages.
The first night on the train was eventful. I was robbed! We think they
came in through the window off the roof of the train, but no one actually
knows. Trying to sort this out in the middle of Africa, with little or
no e-mail, and exorbitantly expensive long distance rates, made this an
even bigger problem than normal. Thank heavens for Western Union.
2.00am - We finally we arrived in Bamako and were met by our local tour
guide, Telly. After 40 hours of hell, he was a welcome sight, as was our
lovely air-conditioned bus & the clean air-conditioned hotel rooms. The
next morning I had to sort out my life: money, credit cards, airline tickets,
camera, mozzy repellent, sunglasses (and the list goes on). Remarkably
I was able to replace almost everything in downtown (read little backstreet
mud paved alleys) Bamako.
Refreshed and rejuvenated, we set off in our mini-van to Djenne (via Segou).
Djenne is a UNESCO sight and one of the highlights of the trip. It houses
the largest mud mosque in the world, which is very impressive. You should
really try and make it there in time for the colourful Monday market which
takes place in the square - backdropped by the beautiful mosque. The sights
and sounds and colour really stand out against all the brown. We spent
our time wandering through the alleyways, and over the rooftops, looking
down on life below. We engaged a couple of local boys as our "personal
shoppers". They helped us bargain for mudcloth, batik, bangles, and organized
a tailor for us too!
Our next stop was Dogon country. WOW! We were driven to the middle of the
escarpment and descended on foot down the uneven, steep grade into the
valley below. It was incredible watching our porters snake down the rock-face,
laden with boxes, cooking and camping gear on their heads, and only flip-flops
on their feet - effortlessly! We finally made it down and arrived at our
first night stop. We were promptly offered cold beer and coke (we thought
they were kidding, but the Chief had a fridge in his mud hut!)
Our cook whipped up a wonderful 3-course meal in one pot, over an open
fire, in the middle of nowhere, for 14 people. He did this every day, 3
times a day. Incredible!
Our days in Dogon were spent walking to villages in the cool early morning
hours, then lunching and having a little siesta before continuing on to
our night stop. We constantly ran into inquisitive little kids or farmers
as we wandered between villages. At the end of each day we erected our
tents on the villagers' roofs or in a nearby field. The toilet was the
the closest corn (or thorn) bush! My friend and I were on a mission to
purchase Dogon souvenirs, and some hard bargaining got us what we wanted.
We procured masks, carved doors, indigo, and even negotiated the porterage
of these goods up the escarpment. The other highlight of our Dogon visit
was that we were treated to some colourful and traditional masked dancing,
performed by the young men of the village, and witnessed and blessed by
their elders. A truly unique and unforgettable experience.
On day 4 we finally made the journey up and out of the valley. It was steep,
and it was hot, but it was worth it, as it afforded us some truly magnificent
views over Dogon country below.
From Dogon we made our way to Mopti where we spent the night before heading
up the Niger River to Timbuktu. This was a 3 day/2 night cruise, although
I use the term "cruise," loosely! Our boat was a thatch covered pinasse
(dugout canoe), with hard wooden bench seats. The loo on board was interesting.
A little wooden compartment open to the skies, with a swing door that swung
open as you squatted over a little hole, rocking to and fro. To get there
you had to walk along the side of the boat, clinging to the thatched roof.
When you gotta go…! The life on the river was amazing. We passed fishing
boats, crowded local ferries & lots of little fishing villages (bozo villages).
As we docked at each of these, hundreds of kids ran out to greet us, shouting "ca
va', 'cadeaux' and 'bon bon' . We felt like explorers from a bygone era.
The locals thought we were such a novelty and we had lots of fun with them!
At night we camped along the desert shores. Beautiful and peaceful. We
saw no other tourists for the whole 3 days.
We reached the end of our river journey and were welcomed by our drivers
and made the final 30 minute leg of the journey to Timbuktu by jeep. We
settled into our Hotel Boctou and were soon informed of the next hiccup
on the trip. Just the day before, on the very road we were to take back
to Bamako, a convoy of Italian tourists had been ambushed. The driver and
leader were killed and the group was robbed. Our tour leader instantly
organized a private plane to fly us back to Bamako. This really is a testament
to Guerba (the tour company we were booked with). They paid for the plane,
and would not even consider putting us at risk. A truly first class organization
and a good reason to travel with a reputable company. We immediately went
in search of the internet café to change our airline tickets - once again!!
(Strangely enough, the only good internet in Mali is in Timbuktu. How bizarre).
Timbuktu has the feel of a frontier town, right on the edge of something
big, which it is! We enjoyed our day wandering the streets with our guide "Mohammed
Ali" pointing out the mosques, Koran schools and the homes of the explorers
that had first come there. It is dusty and brown, with the monotony only
broken by the vibrant dress of the women strolling by. We did the touristy
thing and rode a camel with the Tuaregs, out into the Sahara. It was beautiful
looking back and seeing Timbuktu in the distance, blending into the desert.
After boarding our privately chartered Russian plane, (with Kazak pilots),
we made our way back to Bamako, where we bid a sad farewell to the group
and leaders. Over the weeks we had learned so much from Telly about Mali
and it's people, and had developed a lovely friendship with him. We had
all experienced so much!
I departed West Africa with a range of mixed emotions. I was physically
tired, and by the time we had finished with the Bamako airport beaurocracy,
I was frustrated and truly happy to be heading home. We encountered even
more difficulties than I have written about (we lost more luggage, hotel
beds collapsed from under us and I was almost knocked unconscious when
a mud brick fell out of the roof and onto my head while I slept). All of
that certainly made for a challenging trip. Despite all of our bad luck,
when I think about the smiles of the kids, the colour and sounds of the
markets, and the warmth of the people of Mali, I am so glad that I made
the remarkable journey to Timbuktu.
We got back to Canada only to discover that we had made it out on Sabena's
last flight to North America! I guess we really were meant to make the
trip after all!
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