Mali! Plan for two days...stay for a week!!
Next morning I ignored my alarm and only got up around 8:00. I quickly packed up, loaded the bike, thanked the friendly staff and headed out. I filled up with fuel at a Total garage in town and bought myself a Coke and a chocolate bar. My GPS doesn’t work in this area but I consulted my maps the previous evening as to which route I’d have to take to reach the Malian border. If I took a wrong turn I could end up at the Burkina Faso border. In reality this wouldn’t have been a problem as I have an Entente visa which allows me entry into Benin, Togo, Cote D’Ivoire and Burkina Faso. So if I happened to take a wrong turn that would only mean heading through Burkina Faso a bit and then entering Mali from another angle. Though I found the route pretty straightforward, so chances of my taking a wrong turn was pretty much zero.
Forty kilometers outside of Ferke, you have a road splitting off to the left. They even have a sign up that indicates that this is the road to Bamako. Then from the split you have another sixty kilometers to the border. As a delightful surprise the road instantly improves and as soon as I turned left towards the Mali border I found myself on a superb tar road with absolutely NO potholes! If you’re pushed for time, good tar roads always help a great deal.
As I reached the border I rode right past the Senegal customs post, by accident of course. I somehow just didn’t see them and just kept riding. Luckily I was going at a slow pace and when I heard people calling from behind, I looked back and realized that they were calling me back! Oops. No harm done though. The customs officials were very friendly and I had a long chat with one of them who seemed very concerned about my safety in Mali. He asked me whether I was SURE I wanted to ride through Mali as: “It’s very dangerous”. “Do you have a map”? Yes. “Do you know the roads”? No. “But you know where you’re going”? Yes. “Good, go quickly”!
On the Mali side things went quick and easy. I was ordered to sit and eat peanuts with the customs officials whilst they went through my paperwork and stamped my passport. I didn’t argue. Had my passport stamped and then went to have my Carnet stamped. Here I was shown to a yard with a few busses and cars parked next to a building. Obviously the Douane building. I was left standing next to my bike as one of the uniformed officers went to have my Carnet stamped. This is the first time someone had something stamped FOR me! I felt rather spoiled! Whilst standing next to DAX, an array of people came over to have a look at the bike and to chat to me. Some guys gave me their numbers and told me to call them when I got to Bamako. Some offered me tea and others tried to sell me bracelets or clothes. A few minutes later the officer returned with my Carnet in hand. Luckily I checked and noticed that they had not stamped my Carnet, so I had to send him back. Once I had all the stamps in the right places, I greeted the crowd around me and pushed on towards Bamako. The officer who had my Carnet stamped shouted after me to be careful of the potholes in the road!
I am yet to find these potholes, as the roads in Mali are beautiful! Okay, I think I maybe saw ONE pothole on my way to Bamako. From the border I made my way to Sikasso, from here my GPS had information on routes again. The first thing that hit me upon entering Mali is how QUIET it is here! There’s this tangible calmness in the air. In stark contrast to the North! There aren’t as many people on the road as I’ve become used to in Central and the rest of Western Africa. On the contrary I noticed that mostly people are working in fields all along the roadside. You don’t hear anything. People just go about their daily lives, working in the fields. Whenever I stopped for a break next to the road maybe one or two people would walk past me. I would greet them and they’d shyly smile and move along. It’s like I’ve entered a completely different Africa now.
That’s until I reached Bamako! From Sikasso I made my way to Bougouni, heading west. Then from Bougouni I turned north towards Bamako. I underestimated just how big Bamako is and only arrived around 20:00. From about 10 kilometers outside of the actual city I could see long files of traffic snaking through the countryside, making their way in and out of town. I followed my GPS into town and then I got lost! Crazy traffic EVERYWHERE! I was trying to find a good landmark to phone my contact, Valerie, from so they could then meet up with me. But it became impossible and as soon as I found a gap to pull off to the side of the road I phoned Valerie and we agreed that I should make my way back to the “Tour de l’Afrique” statue you see as you enter Bamako. I would estimate the statue/ memorial to be about 12 meters tall, so it’s not like you can miss it! It’s situated in the middle of a big ‘rond-point’. (Roundabout) I found myself a spot within the roundabout and parked off to the side, waiting for Valerie and her friend to meet up with me.
Whilst sitting on my bike, watching the traffic playing ‘ring a ring o’ roses’, a guy stopped next to me on a scooter and asked whether I needed any help in perfect English. I told him that I was waiting for my friends. And so we started chatting and my new friend Ali, told me how he had to flee from Timbuktu with his family because of the violence and unrest in the North. He used to be a travel guide in Timbuktu and showed me pictures of many a traveler he had taken around. He stayed with me until Valerie and Paul arrived. It took them about an hour to get to me and in that time many guys stopped to chat to me. Ali just showed them away. At one point a guy insisted on wanting to buy my bike from me! He obviously loved my bike and hung around up until the point that I left; probably hoping I might change my mind! Sorry buddy!
I thanked Ali for keeping me company, greeted Valerie and Paul and then followed them to my hotel. Hotel le Campagnard. My original plan was to stay here for one night. I would spend the night and then carry on early the next morning to Kayes just before the Senegal border. Little did I know I would spend the next four nights and I’d never get to Kayes either!
The decision came the next morning when I woke up around 05:00 from the prayer calls coming from the surrounding mosques. I promptly turned around, switched off my alarm and went back to sleep. I was tired! I could feel it on the bike since the previous day. I don’t know why I am so tired. It’s not like I have any reason to be after over two weeks rest in Abidjan! But the little voice told me to stay and rest.
The reason would be revealed later that day by way of three strangers who ended up in the bar downstairs from my room, by ‘chance’. I went down to the restaurant/bar around 12:00 for a cup of coffee. Whilst sitting there Paul also arrived and introduced me to some of the people around the bar. The guy sitting next to me starting chatting to me and asking me about my route to Senegal. Whilst chatting to him three more people arrived. They sat down at the bar across from me. Whilst chatting to the guy sitting next to me I overheard the newcomers talking in English, and I recognized the guy’s accent. When I had a gap I leaned over and asked him: “Sorry, where are you from?” South Africa. Then I smiled and asked: “Ja, maar van waar”? To which they burst out laughing. Here in my little hotel I ran into Francois and Janita from Bloemfontein! They were on their way back to South Africa after a three months working on one of the mines near the Senegalese border. They work three months and go home for one.
This is the first time since Namibia that I got to meet fellow South Africans on the road. I know we are all over Africa, but I always seem to miss everyone! So I was very happy when I met Francois and Janita. This also meant I could speak my home language, Afrikaans, for the first time since leaving Namibia. Every now and then it really is a treat to bump into fellow countrymen.
With them they had Pat, a French born Aussie. Now there’s a confused accent if you’ve ever heard one! But an awesome guy! Upon hearing my story he immediately got to work on sorting my visas for Mauritania and Morocco. He phoned a friend at the Moroccan embassy, organized an appointment for me and put me in a taxi. Upon arriving at the embassy I was asked by the security officer whether I am the South African? I was shown to an office and told to take a seat. A few minutes later a lady arrived and handed me the application form to fill in and with that, two photos and CFA 20 000. I was so happy about the opportunity to have these two visas sorted in Bamako. I always feel much more at ease once I have the visas needed for the next country in my passport. Having the next two countries is a bargain! I don’t need a visa for Senegal, so that’s an easy one.
Though, sadly, after about twenty minutes the woman returned with my passport and my CFA 20 000. She told me that they could unfortunately not process my visa application and that I’d have to do it in Mauritania. From what I understand with my little French is that it was because I am not a citizen of Mali. A bit confusing and disappointing. You win some, you lose some. It was worth a try.
I headed back to my hotel. By the time I got back it was already very late in the afternoon and Francois, Janita and Pat had already left. I went to my room and checked my emails, Facebook messages etc. I had an early dinner and then went to bed.
I spent the rest of the week in Bamako. For no reason other than I enjoyed it! I would walk around every now and then, down the street to the bank to draw some money. Then stop off at the garage shop to buy a cold drink. Then explore the area a bit before heading back to the hotel. Downstairs from my hotel there’s always at least five guys sitting and selling their goods. They’ve tried flogging everything from clothes, to bangles (I did buy one…my Mali addition), sunglasses, shoes, cd’s, dvd’s. You name it, they’ve got it! Everyday when I came out of my room they would call up to me, greeting me and asking me if I had a good sleep? Persistent salesmen that they are, they’d throw out the bait to see if I didn’t want to bite and buy at least one CD or one T-shirt. I give them a ten for determination!
Francois and Janita had given me the contact number for one Derick du Plessis who is another fellow South African working in Gounkoto, right on the Senegalese border. Turns out Derick did a stint with his dad last year August/September from Mali to England. Yay, a fellow adventurer! And this is how the route change came in from heading to Kayes to rather heading to Gounkoto. You won't find the route on any map or GPS as the new road leading to Gounkoto only opened in December. When I told my friends in Sali (Senegal), that I’d change my route they told me that I would struggle as it’s a bad road and with all the rain recently I’d only reach Dakar in a month’s time!
Though I had faith that I’d been given the correct information, and armed with a hand drawn map that Pat had drawn me whilst we sat in the bar, I set off towards Gounkoto on Saturday 14 July 2012. And indeed, there is a brand new tarmac road leading all the way to the Senegal border! I phoned Derick on route to keep him updated on my progress. I must just say once again, I find Mali to be a very beautiful country! Beautiful landscapes, lush green grass and trees all over. It reminds me a bit of the Lowveld in South Africa.
I had no issues with navigation. Pat’s map drawing skills proved to be very good. I made great progress and landed in Gounkoto around 16:00 the afternoon. Yay, I reached a town before nightfall! Before you get to Kenieba, which is the town just before you get to Gounkoto, you go through a police control point. Just before this point there is a service station. I stopped here to fill up and as I was about to pull off again a white Toyota Land Cruiser just nicked me from behind, on my right side pannier. But it was enough to just push me over and have me drop DAX. Before I was even up on my feet, three of the attendants rushed to my side to help me pick up the bike. The first time I’ve put the bike down since Gabon! Grrrrr.
After I had passed through the control point a yellow BMW f800gs pulled out in front of me and I immediately knew it was Derick. He had ridden out to wait for me and lead me to their base. On route we saw a guy on one of those 100cc Chinese jobbies with a monkey as pillion!
When we arrived at the base Derick introduced himself and I also met Chrisjan. First things first, they invited me in, gave me a cold beer and we watched some rugby whilst they asked me some questions in between. I felt right at home. I also met another South African family here; Stefaans and Colette with their three children Jancke (10), Inge (8) and little Faans (2). I arrived just at the right time it would seem as Jancke celebrated her birthday on Sunday and the little one turned two yesterday. So we’ve been spoiled with potjie, steak and chips and lots of cake! Yum.
I’ve now been here for almost a week. The guys keep telling me to please stay as long as I want. In the meantime we’ve sent my passport back to Bamako to give the visas one last try. Once I have the visas in hand, I’ll head over into Senegal and on to Sali where I’ll spend my first night. Then it’s off to Dakar, St Louis and finally Mauritania and Morocco. I’ve heard SO many horror stories about the Rosso border between Senegal and Mauritania. I’ll post some here later. And then soon I’ll be in Dakar, with my BMW Dakar. And riding through the desert. Meeting up with friends in Morocco. So there’s still so much to look forward to! In the meantime, I’m enjoying the sights.
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