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Into the World - 2Up Romanian adventure through Africa and beyond
We are a Romanian couple of architects: Ionut, riding the bike and Ana, bickering in the back. Fuelled by Sir David Attenborough's documentaries, an Achilles tendon rupture and past travels to Sri Lanka, Hong Kong and South-East Asia, here we are, daring ourselves to make a dream come true. We've been thinking about this trip for two years and preparing for it for one and, after another freak motor accident that postponed our departure by over 9 months, we finally loaded our Yamaha Tenere motorbike in a van and left Bucharest on the 11th of June. A car broken down and a two-day "cruise" by ferry from Livorno to Tanger later, we begin our trans-Africa biking adventure with a warm up month in Morocco.
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1765.jpg With over 6 years of riding under my belt, mostly on street bikes, this time I have chosen the Tenere for our 2-up RTW trip, knowing that there is no perfect bike, only the will do do something like this. The soul of my first totaled Tenere is alive in the current motorbike, after I did an engine swap to a newer, but with higher mileage 2010 machine. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/giurgiu-1.jpg The first Tenere had just arrived. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/gps-3.jpg GPS mount and weather proof case. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/leocans-2.jpg First Tenere outside our garage. Custom Leo Cans just mounted. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/sprox&oiler-1.jpg Supersporx. Scottoiler injector. In the meantime the new bike has a touring Scottoiler and a custom dual-injector. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/suspension-3.jpg Upgrading the suspension to Hyperpro Combo kit. Thanks to HYPERPRO http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/suspension-5.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/suspension-6.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/tart-1.jpg Alu short brake and clutch lever. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/unifilter-1.jpg Unifilter foam filter. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/crash-1.jpg The CRASH. http://intotheworld.eu/xt660dotcom/crash-4.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/newten/newten-1.jpg The second Tenere just arrived. The soul of the crashed Tenere in the back, days from being transplanted to the new one. The bike has the following mods/ upgrades: - front + rear steel braided brake hose - high Givi windshield - GPS mount + direct battery charger with backup system - custom-made radiator protection - G-IT aluminum engine shield + crashbar combo (from AdventureSpec) - MK3 pivot pegs - Unifilter foam air filter - Kev mod (from xt660.com) - Renthal Dakar fatbar with KTM plastic handguards, alu short brake and clutch lever and rallyride foam grips - Hein Greike tankbag - custom made dual Leo Vince SBK exhausts (with custom dB killer) - 14 tooth JT front sprocket - touring Scottoiler - custom rack for aluTech 41l cases - Hepko & Becker Gobi topcase - 150W inverter for gizmo charging - Hyperpro suspension upgrade (front progressive springs with 15W oil and rear progressive spring) Also we carry loads of tools and parts, along with a change of knobbies for later. Fitness preparation aside, we are geared up with these essentials and geeky things: - The North Face Roadrunner 3 seasons lightweight tent - The North Face Twin Peaks -7 degrees resistant 2 person sleeping bag + MSR silk liner + Mammoth self-inflating mats - MSR stove for cooking, stainless steel pot, knife, 2x petzl + extra torchlight, binoculars, machete, compass, MSR pactowels, compression + dry sacks, water filter + purifying tablets - foto: 5DMKII + 20D bodies, 24 f/1.4, 70-200 f/2.8, Sigma 10-20 F/4-5.6; Polaroid Pogo printer; 13" Macbook; GPS - first aid kit (sterile bandage, scissors, sterile needles + anesthetic, bethadine, Baneocin, Clartec antihistaminic, Malarone, diarrhea pills, calcium, rehydratable powder, antibacterial gel, Siddhaleppa ayurvedic balm for pains/flu/insect bites, thermometer, 50% DDET mosquito repellant, 50+ sunscreen, eye drops, antibiotics, aspirin, Ibuprofen, talc, medical tape); moto wear: Arai Tour X3 + Shoei XR1100 helmets, Rev'It Offtrack jacket + Sand pants and Turbine ladies combo with Gaerne boots; other stuff: 3 tshirts each, swimming suit, moto socks + gloves, cotton Thai pants, slippers, 1 pair shorts each, 3 pairs knickers each, scarf, 1 bed sheet (very useful for picnics and as sun/wind shield), sunglasses, spare of clear visor for rider, lots of GPS maps, PDF books and guides. In Mauritania we started carrying a 5l jerrycan with gas and a 5l raffia-insulated plastic can with water (hint from locals). Usually we bushcamp, or stay in campings when in cities, from time to time stopping for a refreshing night or two in a auberge. We eat where the locals do, in markets and street food stalls and restaurants, but we love to cook when fresh produce is available. 7000km into the trip, we had little maintenance and servicing to do: a change of oil, change of chain (freak thing, a fairly new one, it got stiffer and stiffer with o-rings falling off), replacing the chain safetypin (fish-pin fell possibly due to offroading). http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0643.jpg Bushcamping in Rabat. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0749.jpg We miss our kitchen. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1066.jpg Our mule heavily loaded. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1160.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1243.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1265.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1762.jpg |
Morocco - A Warm Up
After loading our Tenere in a van that broke down 300 km from Livorno (where we were to catch the ferry to Morocco), we began our trans-Africa riding adventure with a bang. It's crazy how the 2008 VW Transporter timing belt gave up at merely 50K!
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/itw-1.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/itw-2.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0538.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0544.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0577.jpg EU citizens are allowed a 90 days stay in Morocco without a visa. We entered via the newly launched Tanger Med port, where the border formalities are a breeze; its a one-stop-shop, you get your passport stamped, then checked by the gendarmerie, then the duane officer issues for free a Declaration d'admission temporaire de moyens de transport (temporary import permit). http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0617.jpg For the customs you can apply online, using this form. The International Motor Insurance Card (green card) from your country of origin may also cover Morocco, you want to check this with your insurer (that is the case for Romania). Otherwise you can purchase insurance at the border. The Moroccan infrastructure is quite developed, with over 1145km of autoroute and good tarred roads even in countryside. Morocco is an offroad paradise, with adrenaline-pumping pistes zig-zagging the ever changing landscape. The gas (essence) is about 1 Euro/liter and widely available at gas stations or at hole-in-the-walls in small villages. There are ATM machines everywhere, but obviously the food stalls are cash only. Morocco boasts a diverse landscape, ranging from wild Atlantic coasts to 4K High Atlas peaks, from sterile desert to lush oases, from Sahara dunes to mudbrick villages. We rode through the north (Tanger, Larache) which is feeling the crunch of the real estate bubble, with ghost towns and suburbs that nobody can afford built in the middle of nowhere. We stayed in and around Rabat for a week, waiting for the Mali and Mauritania visas, camping on beaches and getting to know the local way of life. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0629.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0635.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0651.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0686.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0728.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0764.jpg While Rabat has an european feel, the shanty towns that line the coast and the lively fresh food markets are intensely moroccan, so is charming Mahommedia. East from Rabat we used Meknes as our base camp for a few days, visiting the Imperial cities (Fez, Meknes), the sacred town of Moulay Idriss and the ancient ruins of Volubilis. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0796.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0809.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0810.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0829.jpg The Medina, (the medieval centre of Fez) has not changed for centuries: a maze of narrow alleys housing hundreds of merchants and craftsmen, stalls with spices, dried fruits and nuts, fish, handmade copper items, carpets and musical instruments. A seat of Arab learning, a Holy City and a place of pilgrimage (when the route to Mecca was obstructed), Fez was a place of considerable importance until recently, being the depot for the caravan trade from the south and east of the African continent. A must see in Fez is the Leather Souq with the oldest leather tannery in the world, Chouwara. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0834.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0841.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0849.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_0863.jpg Even if Fez has a more intricate architecture in the beautifully preserved UNESCO World Heritage Medina, we found that Meknes has a more authentic feel, with few to no tourists and touts and a Medina where people seem to actually live and work (not just for show). Moulay Idriss is a little gem, a fairytale town on top of a mountain among olive tree hills, where life has a slower pace. |
Morocco - A Warm Up
Later we rode through Casablanca, heading inland toward the High Atlas. After sleeping in a millet field and after a villager gave us fresh cow milk in the morning, we climbed to the 100m high Ouzoud falls (in full swing at this time of year). You can pass the touts and faux-guides and ride your bike close to the pools where you can take a cold plunge or enjoy the free spectacle of nature; just take the right gravel road before the bridge for 5-600m.
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1019.jpg In the afternoon we stopped again in Azilal for a tagine, then continued on a breathtaking route among peaks ranging from 2K to 4K. The landscape kept changing every hour, from lifeless valleys, to cactus infested walls, from reddish soil and rocky forests to fragrant cedars and green canyons punctuated by magenta wild flowers. When the road appeared to end, we suddenly found ourselves at 2750m altitude, from where 50km of tarmac interrupted by gravel brought in by spring floods led us to Imilchil. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1076.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1081.jpg We slept a charmed night at the Gite d'etape run by a Berber family. Aziz has built the beautiful house himself and is a licensed guide. He also has a shop in the village, selling carpets hadmade by his wife, Fatma. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1147.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1084.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1117.jpg After eating some freshly baked bread in the morning, we left behind the Bhutan-like atmosphere of beautifully camouflaged Imilchil behind, heading to Gorges Dades via Agoudal. Enter the most thrilling piste so far: after Agoudal the tarmac turns to gravel, then just traces in the dust. For 5 km we rode through a riverbed that had erased the piste during the recent floods. Offroading with a heavily loaded bike proved difficult and we took a few tumbles, managing to cover only 100km in more than 4 hours. Apart from the riverbed crossings, the piste is a fun ride, climbing to 2700m then going down in hairpins and thrilling turns, with alternating gravel, rocky patches, sand and dirt. The piste ends with a 30cm deep river crossing, from where the road is all tarmac, interrupted by landslides that are easy to manage. As if the whole day ride wasn't enough, we crossed the canyon of Dades back to another famous set of spaghetti-like road. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1165.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1187.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1194.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1210.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1248.jpg The public demonstrations cheering the king's peace oriented decision to promulgate a new constitution (giving more executive power to the elected government) arrived from Meknes where we last seen them in Boulmaine de Dades. We bushcamped outside the town, then left at sunrise to see the place where Sahara starts. You can see the mighty sand dunes in two places in Morocco: the golden ones of M'Hamid or the psychedelic pink Erg Chebbi in Merzouga, which is where we arrived in a blazing hot weather. A weird afternoon rain in the Sahara and a pool plunge later, we woke up to see the sun rising behind the glistening foot-trace swallowing mirage that is Erg Chebbi, a dune 160m high, bordered by the village of Hassi Labied. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1350.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_5324.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_5363.jpg The beauty of the desert is magical, and we left the second day still reveling in it. As a technical problem that has been aggravating for a while become urgent, we rushed the 400km through desertificated Draa Valley from Merzouga to Ouarzazate, where after a few days and with the help of Peter at BikersHome, we managed to change our defective chain. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1379.jpg Marrakech was like a punch in the face: crazy, hot, bursting with energy. It's instant love or hate, and we left our bike in the parking behind the Koutoubia mosque, then dove into the UNESCO World Heritage show that is Djemma el-Fna, with its storytellers, musicians, artisans and food stalls selling Michelin star worthy plates of tangia, sheep brain and seafood. The next day visit to Ali Ben Youssef medersa was followed by a protein load in Mechoui Alley, then a cool walk in the Jardin Majorelle. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1526.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1499.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1506.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1514.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1556.jpg At 5pm when we exit town, the roadside thermometer read 53 degrees Celsius, but 200 km further, in Essaouira, the wind capital of Africa, we felt chilly at 22. We didn't stay long to enjoy the white and blue spanish influenced colonial architecture of the medina, as our GPS got stollen in the fish market, only to be retrieved later against a 30 Euro ransom. That's why we ate quickly our delicious sardines, fresh fish and squid grilled at the public grillades de poisson with possibly the best bread in Morocco, then camped some 200km later, near Agadir. |
Morocco - A Warm Up
South of this package tourism oriented town, we rode a 3 day marathon through Western Sahara, ending up in Dakhla. Along the almost featureless landscape we bushcamped on a nice beach near Sidi Ifni and on a golden dune near Tarfaya.
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1696.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1721.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1789.jpg We couldn't get to close to the soul of this country rich in natural resources (phosphate, fish abundant waters and oil) but with a difficult history, where the traditionally nomadic Saharawi herders are bribed with tout-compris homes to leave their identity behind (or are forced to live in refugee camps called ironically villages de peche), and where towns resemble M.A.S.H. movie sets, with their population of military personnel and UN workers. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1823.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1870.jpg After a month in Morocco where we rode over 6000km, the motorbike is in great shape and we experienced no technical issues, except for the chain problem. We took a few low-speed falls due to deep sandy patches and rocky pistes, the battery was drained two times while charging our laptop with the engine off and we had to send home a few spares and personal stuff in order to lose some 6,5 kg off the bike (which do make a sizable difference). So our first advice (not that is a huge novelty) is pack light, cause every gram counts. People in Morocco are friendly, sometimes aggressively trying to sell you something or guide you, are not easy to trust, which is a shame, because up in the mountains you will meet genuinely sweet villagers and generous men. Moroccans nurture close family ties and friendships, and we witnessed how they warmly greet each other for minutes. The caffe culture is a big deal here, with solo men filling up terraces from morning to dawn, at a chat over coffee with friends. Women are harder to meet, but they are highly educated and almost all speak fluent French. Some Arab and Berber will come a long way here; in Merzouga area English is largely spoken and understood. We bought a Meditel modem for Internet, but discovered that IAM has a better 3G coverage, so we suggest you get that one instead. Food is a reason to be here in itself. Produce is mostly organic and very regional: in Fez you have the famous fassi cousine with treats like b'sara (a soup made of fava beans served with a fragrant garlic olive oil), pigeon pastilla (a pastry spiced with cinnamon) and very spicy and hot sausage made of mutton and offal; in Meknes you can eat the freshest figs and delicious flat bread with thin crust and cumin spiced crumble; pure eucalyptus, almond or cactus honey is produced high in the Atlas; in Erfoud you will eat the best dates with the extraordinary sweet and creamy Medjool reigning supreme; Marrakech is home to sheep meat and offal delicacies like tangia (mutton or beef cooked slowly with cumin, ras-el-hanout, preserved lemons and olives in a dough-sealed clay pot), sheep brains and tongue and mechoui (whole sheep baked with spices in a vertical clay oven); the freshest fish is in Essaouira and other coastal cities - here you can follow our example, and buy your fish from the fihermen, then have it cooked for 5Dh/plate at the public grill, next to the market; in the Banana Village just before Agadir you can taste the local varieties of banana and suculent cactus fruits. All over the country you can find tasty veggies, mutton and beef kafta, gorgeous watermelons and melons, dried fruits and nuts, along with top quality spices like saffron, paprika, cumin and ras-el-hanout. The breakfast is usually bread with the best local olive oil or served with honey sweetened leben (local yoghurt), or couscous with cold sourmilk from streetside vendors. Bread is sold freshly baked along moroccan pancakes, which in Fez have a sweet spongy texture. At lunch people usually eat a tagine (a typical stew of meat or fish, slowly cooked on charcoal in a signature clay pot). Dinner is protein based: kafta or harira (bean soup with aromatic herbs, which in Agadir is served with a local twist - with dates, a boiled egg and a piece of hard caramel). Other signature Morocco treats available countrywide are freshly squeezed orange juice and green/black tea perfumed with fresh mint (called whisky marocain). Tap water is safe to drink and wild camping is possible in most unmarked places, even if locals may try to discourage you from doing so. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1858.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1838.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1641.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1629.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1521.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/morocco/IMG_1270.jpg Also, it will be difficult to leave the country without buying some good quality ****. |
Glad to see your back on the bike after the Crash.
have a great trip :icon_thumleft: |
that guys is an amazing tour an description not to mention the excellent pictures of quality. thanks. john in Scotland
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Sounds and looks
FANTASTIC well done. :applause::applause::applause:
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excelent story and pictures. glad you're back on the bike after the crash. enjoy. mult noroc si succes in continuare :clap::clap:
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Fantastic :Photos_3NT5BI: and great to read the report in English now, my Roumanian is a bit rusty :104:.
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Clutch Lever
Fantastic pictures , and great stories . Good to see the Tenere doing these journeys . Must say i am very interested in the clutch lever you have on your bike . Can you give more details of exactly what type it is and all the parts you need for it , and if it will fit on a standard perch . I have a 2009 Tenere .Thanks .
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So glad that you're healed and are both now able to enjoy the adventure. Look forward to following on your blog. Really pleased that you were able to use the engine out of my original 'whitey' - feels like part of me is with you!
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Just brilliant, :blob6:so very inspiring...those pics have made my day... probably some of the best photos I�ve seen on XT660.com... can you tell us what camera you were using please?
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Brian if you look at the exif of the picture it tells you what camera was used.
In this case it is a Canon EOS 5 D Mark II http://regmedia.co.uk/2009/06/05/can..._5d_mkii_2.jpg |
can always rely on you lovey.. thanx. :blow kiss:
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Great stuff, thanks for sharing your photos & story.
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Quote:
Yup... :tongue3: and worth more than my poor old XTX... Don't tell him that OK.. :Tongue_HKIM7O: |
Thanks for the nice worlds!!!
The 5D is just a brilliant camera... a bit heavy for our setup but we're just doing this once I think :) and our old 20D was not filming so it was time for a costly upgrade. For the levers you can search my thread "Tenere adventure preparation" you can find all the info there... they are form ebay... really cheapo and works just perfect. Keep you guys posted to the trip. A english post with Mauritania is coming pretty soon. (it depends on the internet which is starting to be pretty slow) |
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Has the camera in question got the new mark 2 smell sensor fitted as well cause I'm sure I got a wiff of that loooovely lookin food. Well not sure about the sheepy head thingy tho.:smilies0349: |
Cracking photo of the little girl in green by the way - worthy of publishing in something like National Geographic etc.:icon_salut:
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Mauritania - Stretching
Lonely Planet calls it "a place apart", "a Muslim country with a black African twist" and the new traveler's Shangri-la. With a population of only 3 million people (Moors of Arab descent ad black Africans) and with a surface exceeding 1 million sq. km, Mauritania is certainly a place we would return to sometime, well deserving more exploration.
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/capblancpano.jpg Only recently opened to tourism, the country is still largely rural and half deserted, with population concentrated in the capital of Nouakchott, the port of Nouadibou and a few more trade towns. The nomads with their camel herds and blue and black clothing unfortunately are history, but we caught glimpses of that past while riding the south roads. There the bobo (the mauritanian typical menswear: a cotton or silk robe, with huge folds and opened on both sides to ankle line) changes fashion, an indigo blue, reminding the blue men of the past, is preferred to the regular white or light blue. Also homes are rarely of brick and mortar and many people live or spend their day under an open or closed tent (which sometimes is actually a covered platform placed near the house). Entry to the country is not easy in any sense. The Mauritania visa is a bit of a hassle. We applied in Rabat and got ours 48 hours later, but be prepared to face unfriendly staff and long waiting hours. The one month visa/ one entry is 340 Dh (30 Euro), and you need 2 photos, a photocopy of your passport and the form given at the embassy. Applications are received M-F 9-11 a.m. and passports are picked up daily from 12 to 13. After the smooth exit from Morocco, we rode the no man's land that leads to the Mauritanian border, a dirt road with huge potholes and sandy patches, littered with car wreckage and exploded tires. A number of "helpers" assaulted us within minutes, offering to take care of the border formalities for us, to sell insurance or change money. We calmly refused or ignored them and walked straight to the police office on the left, cutting the line as everybody does, sure that we'll get noticed. The police officer introduced our passport data into the computer using a fiche, then we walked into the building on the right, which is the customs office. There we were issued against 100 Dirham the Autorisation de circuler de vehicule etranger valid for one week. After that we walked further to the left side of the road again, into another building, where we waited for our passports to be scanned and were asked to provide with a local address. Finally, at the barrier another officer will check the passport and visa. Mauritania is 1 hour behind Morocco, so little after 2pm we were off to Nouadibou. Try to make this border in time, it closes about 4pm. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1905.jpg Nouadibou lies on a narrow peninsula, in the beautiful Baie of Levrier, where some of the most fish abundant coastal waters in the world have generated a big fishing and industry operation. The road to here is crossing a former minefield which has been largely cleared, you are advised though to stay on the tarmac. The tracks of the longest train in the world, that carries iron ore - a major income source here, run parallel to the motor road. The last carriage of the 2,5 km long get quickly filled with passengers and make quite the scene. Exhausted after the long ride through blazing hot desert and a little stressed by the definite change in pace and atmosphere, we rolled into the main street of Nouadibou, Le Medien, under the strong impression of shabby garages and shops, the piles of dirt lining the street and the inevitable heat stricken dead donkey. Confusion once dissipated, also did all sort of internet rumors. Contrary to all information we could find online, there is a working ATM at the Societe Generale bank on the main street. Roaming did not work, but cheap public phones are everywhere, and soon we were talking to our contact in the city, a Romanian family residing here for 20 years. During the following week, the Romanians proved instrumental for our initiation into the mellow, chillout life of Nouadibou. The main shops, banks and activities line the Medien which leads to the fishing and industrial ports situated in the south. East of Medien is the stadium and the artisan port (with traditional wood boats being repaired or built, fish being sun-dried and fishermen going about their daily work); to the west you'll find the fresh produce market, the mosques and the main chinese supermarket. Fishing industry and mining are the main business here, so most vegs and fruits are imported from Morocco, Spain and France. We found a mango bonanza here, savoring delicous fruits from Mali. We sampled on the fresh Mauritanian dates, just in season in Atar and the south. Not so sweet and less suitable for drying, these are fiberless and tasty. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_2017.jpg Busy to get know better our new friends, we enjoyed a relaxing week, filled with fishing trips, a swim in the turquoise waters of the golf and with gourmet dishes. Our host cooked the most amazing meals, a fusion of spanish, french, asia, romanian and african inspiration. We ate trout ceviche, octopus spanish salad with smoked pimento, grilled camel meat, Romanian polenta, garlic squid, Senegalese tchebu chien and countless types of fresh fish fried or curried. To the end of the peninsula we rode through Cansado, a small dormitory-town built in the seventies, housing the families of the port staff. Mauritanian women in vividly colored transparent scarves were walking the quiet streets and at corners tons of kids were playing football. Further to the south, the very tip is reached is an offroad piste. After a triangular intersection you take the first right turn, than keep right as tarmac becomes a bumpy ride, with big areas of sand and some rocky plateaus. We rode this piste without the alu boxes, but still took a small tumble and lost the safety pin of the new chain somehere along the way. The mirage of white sand further behind the deep red ore-colored landscape is Cap Blanc, our destination. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1925.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1926.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1935.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1960.jpg A beautiful and tranquil place, the cape is both a magnetic field anomaly and an ecological wonder. Here sometimes birds get lost; also here the Canary current meets the golf current causing rich nutrients to infuse an extremely fish abundant water. The Satellite Reserve of Cap Blanc, with 4.2 km of coast and an area of 210 ha (including a fringe of 400 m sea water where fishing is prohibited), is one of the last 3 protected areas in the world that are home to the most endangered mammal in the world, the monk seal. The other 2 are the National Park of Banc d'Arguin and the Islas Desertas (Madeira). Our Romanian friend is one of the main people who work in the reserve. Here only about 180 monk seals live in a breeding colony that is isolated demographically and genetically. We weren't lucky to spot any seal during our 2 trips at the Cap Blanc, but we were rewarded with hoards of gulls and pelicans and privileged to see from 2 m a probably dissoriented Rupel's african vulture. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_5484.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_5488.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_5494.jpg Time flew by and soon we were saying goodbye, heading for the grueling ride through 500 km of scorching desert from Nouadibou to Nouakchott. The route is dotted by over 10 police checkpoints, ensuring safety after the past attacks and kidnappings that marred it. Everybody we met told us to never stop along the way, unless at a roadside tent that serves drinks and food or at police control. The most difficult part was indeed a 100km ride starting about 150km from Nouadibou. There the hot harmattan becomes unbelievably hotter and you can feel your own skin mummifying under the suit. At less than 1 Euro/l, gas is available in Nouadibou, 45 km outside the city, than 80 km further and finally at the 250km mark, where there is also the main pit stop, with a caffe and restaurant where we recuperated for an hour. The Fiche d'Etat Civil is essential in Mauritania, saving you time and hassle at the numerous police checkpoints. Looking like preserved lemons, we showed up in Nouakchott, where pools of water from the day before downpours were still rendering some street unpassable. The main streets are Kennedy and de Gaulle, with the market at the carrefour, where also many changers are to be found. The restaurant and street food scene disappointed us. Most places are westernized, selling fast food of fried chicken and fries, or shaworma and similar quick eats. The market is quite basic, with many imported fruits and a few vegetables on sale. Here we discovered that Guinea mango is superior to the Mali variety, with an orange and intensely flavoured flesh. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1977.jpg |
Mauritania - Stretching
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In Nouakchott we bunked at Auberge Menata, where we placed our tent on the roof and spend the days walking the streets or riding around. The must see in the capital is the fishing port (port de peche). We arrived there after driving through a maze of decrepit shanty towns (bidon villes), some still flooded. The tarmac stops in front of a large covered area called etalage de poisson, where fishermen unload the days catch or where other men are cleaning the fish. The image of the wooden fishing boats riding the waves in the afternoon soft light is what captures your eyes. It's a spectacle from another time, animated and colorful. Women and children are sitting on the beautiful clean beach resting or watching the show. On the sides are already arrives boats, piles of nets and weights, fishermen in rubber boots, wooden cases filled with crushed eyes for the fish and lots of people. Too bad we were a bit paranoid about freely shooting photos. From Nouakchott we drove the 600 km to Kiffa in one day, an exhausting ride that left me weakened and dehydrated, so instead of leaving the next morning to Ayoun el-Atrouss, we had no choice but to spend 2 nights in Phar du Desert, a scruffy but very expensive auberge. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1981.jpg Hitting the 20k mark. This part of the famous Route de l'Espoir is all tarmac, passing over 18 police checkpoints and the Pass de Djouk, where mountains interrupt the seemingly infinite dunes. In Kiffa gas is only available in one place and the next station is in Mali. 12 km outside Kiffa the tarmac stops and the road is a work in progress with multiple detours, which in some places are full of baking powder (so really challenging for our 2up fully loaded Tenere), but after 40-50km the road turns back to a potholed tar. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/pano_kiffa-1.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/pano_kiffa-2.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/pano_kiffa-3.jpg People in Mauritania are hard to get close to. We found the street vendors more friendly and honest in Nouadibou, whilst in some southern villages at every stop at gas stations hordes of kids surrounded us aggressively. Sometimes the begging becomes demanding, and sometimes they threw rocks at us. We were actually warned that kids can be more dangerous than adults. Many Senegalesa reside here, selling homeland articles; also Guinea and Burkina nationals are employed by Mauritanians or expats as servants or cooks. The society is strictly confined to a cast system and the two ethnic groups (black and white Mauritanians) rarely mix. Girls are not allowed to leave their home until they get married, around age 16, to a husband selected for them, and who seldom is a cousin. Outside big cities women dont go to school after age 12-13 and rely on men for food and housing. A men will offer his sister a room in their home and food to eat, and a married daughter can continue to live with her husband in her parental house. The bride's parents receive 2-3000 Euro for the wedding party. Men clothing is both functional and a social statement, the apparently simple bobo can cost hundreds of Euro. Women are draped in brightly colored clothing, that can be quite transparent, but do cover their hair. Mauritanian men greet each other with even more elaborate rituals than their neighbours in Morocco. Food in Mauritania is not a big event. Aside from senegalese women selling sandwiches, muffins, biscuits and small donuts, street food is nonexistent. In Nouadibou seafood is avalable, while in Nouakschott fast food are predominant. Snacks of peanuts and Adrar dates are offered everywhere. Fresh produce is imported, meat is available at scruffy butcher stalls. Bread in Mauritania is the french baguette. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_2024.jpg Our meal of choice in Nouakchott was the diminutive restaurant Chez Astou, where Astou herself serves everyday from 2 to 4pm a spicy thcheb, the national dish of Senegal. To find this not so spotless but yummy and authentic place, take left from de Gaulle at the grand market, then again left. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1971.jpg Tchebu chien is a rice and fish dish, with fish fried with spices, then curried with vegetables, while the rice is hydrated over the cooking vapor, then finished in the pot. We become friends with the family, discussing recipes and enjoying strong green tea prepared with great artistry by the Astou's father. According to the Mauritanian custom, one must accept the first 3 glasses of tea, but the subsequent ones may be refused. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1975.jpg Hedi is 25 and she helps her sister at the restaurant http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mauritania/IMG_1973.jpg Center image is Babs, one of the girls' brother, who runs a Senegalese shop and plans to go work in Burkina or Mali If you miss the 2-4pm tcheb interval, you can still pass by the restaurant, where in the evenings Astou serves sandwiches of baguettes with a beef stew, hot sauce, fries and salad for only 300 ouguiya. At the outskirts of the city we saw similar shops with senegalese food, but we didn't try them. Bottled water is selled in epicerie shops at 200 Ouguiya/ 1.5 l bottle. The general level of cleanliness is not great, the Kiffa hotel being the worst of the bunch. After seeing the kitchen there we strongly advice you to source your own food. A local treat is camel meat and fat, delicious grilled. A strong green tea is served after a meal, with first 3 glasses obligatory. Coca Cola and Marlboro are huge stars here, and most people dispay serious tooth decay (they clean their teeth with a special twig, sold by street vendors). We never bushcamped, and heard that police doesn't allow tourists to drive at nightime. SIM cards are available countrywide at 2000 Ouguiya from Chinguitel or Mauritel. We haven't bought a modem for Internet, and in Menata Auberge we used the hotel wifi connection. |
Thanks for the nice words guys!!!
We'll try to update things as we move foreword and the internet connection allows us... Cheers, |
Bamako - Street Food Bonanza
Sometimes borders are just lines on maps, but Mauritania - Mali frontier divides two very distinct worlds. The malian Sahel is vivid green and teeming with wildlife and cattle at watering ponds and instead of the bobo-wrapped touaregs and moors we meet ebony skinned people in Made in China footballers' thirst. Border control is smooth and fast, but we have to deal with the customs in the first malian town, Nioro de Sahel, where, because it's weekend (bad timing in Africa) the price for Laissez passes is double (10000 CFA)
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2027.jpg Later we save some money camping in the police station compound and of course using their backyard as toilet. Too bad our Morocco stash is already history. Overnight a very windy rainstorm shakes us dearly, filling our tent with dust. It merely cools the sticky hot air a bit, and in the morning we do our best to content our muddy misery and hit the road to Bamako. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/riding_mali.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2036.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2037.jpg We are rewarded with e wonderful ride throough a fertile hilly landscape, dotted with scenic villages and lush gardens. A group of Fulani people passes us by: the women are topless and have intricate hair braids and jewelry and huge moonshined packs of tree branches are tied to the donkeys. We are happy we have arrived here in wet season! Bamako is a sprawling metropolis, with scooters and cars entangled together in big traffic jams, with bridges thrown over the mighty Niger river which divides the capital in two. The shanty towns are on one side, immersed in a sleepy rural life, while on the other side of the water there are concrete and glass administrative buildings and offices and some expensive hotels (with good wifi connection). Here it rains almost daily and only some of the streets are tarred. Bamako is a welcomed pitstop: we rest, wash our pathetic scruffy riding gear, we go for a visa and ATM run and Skype our families. The Burkina visa breaks our bank: 80 euro/pers!, recently doubled cause of french propaganda. Bamako's heart beats in its colorful markets: near Place de la Liberte & Cinema Vox, in Grande Marche, in the fetish market we find innumerable stalls selling anything from fruit and vegs to clothing and plasticware made in Nigeria. Men are generally sporting generic Chinese designs, but the elegant women of Bamako wear traditionally inspired dresses and elaborate hairpieces and metes. People are warm and friendly, except for the usual guides, touts and beggars, with tricks that we are too familiar with from Romania. The sad thing is that they believe that "les blanc donnent des cadeaux", so who's to blame for that? http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2084.jpg A Malian lunchlady in a typical Bamako street restaurant: a wooden bench + many pots Bamako is famous for live music; as we are nearing Ramadan, women are celebrating and dancing in the streets. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2068.jpg A Malian hipster: different continent, different vogue Great street food is a no brainer in Bamako: rice with sauce, chicken in lemon and ginger sauce, fried fish, grilled goat or mutton (brochetes), yam stews, cow heart and liver sauteed in a spicy onion sauce, frufru (mini rice or millet pancakes), mango, local melon (meh, but excellent as a salad with lime, fresh chili and olive oil), corn on a cob. Many favorite snacks are black eyed peas based: doughnuts served simple or in a millet congee fro breakfast. Boulageries with fresh baguettes are widely available, so are breakfast stalls with eggs and instant coffee with milk or tea. In the evening the streets are filled with stalls with bubbling pots: fish or meat stews, rice, chickpeas, fried potato/yam/plantain or even couscous. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2082.jpg Rice with peanut & baobab sauce (rise arachide) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2083.jpg Rice with fish sauce and African eggplant http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2088.jpg Favorite soft drinks: lime lemonade, hibiscus juice (red) & spicy ginger lemonade http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2063.jpg Our usual breakfast: bread with soft cheese and savannah flowers wild honey (with a smoky, sunny flavor) and tea-tree tea http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2069.jpg Africa is crazy about mobile phones http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2072.jpg The intricate Malian hello takes minutes http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2072.jpg Flowers in the inner yard of Mission Catolique where we bunked for a few nights Soon we had to leave the buzzing Bamako behind to head south-east to Sikasso, the vegetable garden of Mali. |
Sikasso - Rural Mali
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My mom is venerated in this malian village :) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2103.jpg We stopped over for an African lunch http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2100.jpg Beef with onion and fried beans with chili http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2107.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2111.jpg A typical pirogue driven by less typical paddles http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2115.jpg Dragrace - 2 donkeypower vs. lots of diesel horses The first night in Sikasso we camp in the backyard of a local family. We quickly become the village attraction, every detail of our tent pitching and logistics being scrutinized, analyzed and discussed with load enthusiasm. Later at night we are invited to join the family (husband, wife, 3 boys and a toddler + uncle) for dinner: boiled yam with a dash of oil, eaten by hand from a big pot. We offer some almonds from Morocco and then enjoy the ritualic 3 glasses of African tea artfully brewed by the woman. Only Bambara is spoken so we cannot communicate easily, and under the star-covered sky the silence in this village where there is no electricity nor running water is broken by some music coming from an old radio. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2119.jpg In the morning we eat a typical breakfast: millet congee with bean doughnuts http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2121.jpg We are the village freaks: we have fun with the kids eager to mount the bike and we teach them some Romanian childhood games http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2157.jpg Sikasso is the center of the 3rd Malian region; here are grown for local consumption and export: mango, bananas, nuts, millet, rice, tomatoes, cucumber, onion, pineapple, avocado. The market is bountiful so we enjoy a fabulous fruit and tea picnic later, near the Burkina border. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2165.jpg The rear tyre is almost done and we have a nail in, so I m contemplating switching to the knubbies. Also rumors are that the roads to the north are not tarred so�We bushcamp in a cute little spot and rain falls the better part of the night and all morning, when I am happy that I haven't rushed into changing the tires, as the tarmac is excellent up to Koutiala and then to Djenne. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2172.jpg Breakfast served in bed, under the cover of rain: avocado and tomatoes salad http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2183.jpg This baobab was home to a large bird colony http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2184.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2202.jpg Morning dew in the field of our next day bush camping spot http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2200.jpg And on our tent http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2198.jpg Another memorable breakfast http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2207.jpg Critters http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2223.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2215.jpg |
excellent! we want more!:family:
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Djenne - Mall of Africa
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After the fertile landscape of the last 3 days palm trees start to show up again, the weather gets hotter and the mud-brick villages have only weekly markets where fresh produce is increasingly hard to find. Small patches of water are the only mark of the wet season. At the last left turn to Djenne, we pay the tourist tax (1000 CFA/pers) at the checkpoint, where the police are happy to chat about the bike. So far in Africa people are wildly enthusiastic about it, but the general idea is that our motorbike is more expensive than a 4x4, so that gets a bit in the way of making friends. We quickly learnt that we cannot explain what a personal and financial effort is this trip to us to people to whom the idea of traveling equals luxury (cause their priority is to survive). http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2232.jpg Cattle lazily crossing the plain http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2234.jpg Djenne is an island on Bani river, and also an island of medieval civilization in the north-west of Mali. Legend has it that a virgin was sacrificed to the water genie by the Bozo fishermen, and that the victim's blood was mixed with mud to make the bricks for the first houses in Djenne. UNESCO pomps serious money into the conservation of this gem of a town with narrow unpaved streets radiating from the famous biggest mud building the world - the mosque. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2241.jpg All buildings in Djenne are exclusively made from bank (mud). The iconic 1907 mosque is a replica of the XIII century original. At the end of each wet season a massive operation of retouching takes place. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2238.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2247.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/pano_djenne-1.jpg The Monday market in Djenne is legendary: this is the most important and biggest market in West Africa. Vendors and buyers travel from all regions to fill up the square in front of the mosque and to sell and shop everything from local art, bogolan - typical cloth decorated with mud mixed with medicinal plants, amber jewelry, food, spices, baskets, plasticware and livestock. As this is an authentic local market, the people are not fazed by tourists so we are taking a breather from the touts and faux-guides harassment to enjoy the unique atmosphere. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2332.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2342.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2345.jpg The mosque is just the decor for the real show that is taking over Djenne http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2348.jpg Sideboob http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2349.jpg Handmade baby sling http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2352.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2361.jpg Mama Africa http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2365.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2360.jpg Djenne teenagers Unfortunately Djenne is a way too touristy place to allow personal interactions and with inflated prices for the whites, so after 24 hrs we move on. |
Dogon Country - We go back in time
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http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/pano_dogon-6.jpg In northern Mali the sale scratches a sandy plain up to Burkina Faso. Here some 250 kilometers of falaise are home to the Dogon people, an ethnic group that lives generally undisturbed by civilization like they have been for a millennia, since they have settled here trying to escape Islam. Risking to be forced to shorten our trip later on, we decided to invest an initially unplanned and quite significant amount of cash in a 3 day tour through Dogon Country. We teemed up with 2 swiss overloading by 4x4 and hired a guide to one of the best preserved ethnographic regions in Africa. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/057.jpg First we had to survive the road to Mopti, through the most dramatic sand storm so far. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/067.jpg The particularly strong lateral wind was blowing in sequences, we rode at less than 50 km/h. The wind preceded the rain, which was lucky, cause keeping a steady balance on a very wet road would have been difficult. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/068.jpg In Mopti we stock on food and water for the next 2 days and we negotiate the guide's fee. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2387.jpg Mopti is a semi-industrial fishing town and a tourist stopover, with shady touts and an unpleasant vibe to it. Give it a miss, except for the scenic port http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/pano_dogon-1.jpg Our itinerary was: Bandiagara, Djiguibombo, Kani-Kombole, Teli, Ennde, Indelou, Begnimato, Yabacalou, with 2 days of trekking and 1 day on our own vehicles. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/pano_dogon-8.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2401.jpg All Dogon buildings are made of mud in the plain villages and of stone up on the cliff. The room on the right is the kitchen, the pots are actual chimneys. Spices are dried on the terrace. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2404.jpg Typical Dogon ladder Tree trunks are used for draining rain water. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2493.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2504.jpg The Dogon are a distinct ethnographic group, originated from the Siby area (Pays Mandingue) and settled here in the IX-XI cent., after the demise of the native pygmy population (the Tellem). The Dogon culture was first contactated by a french ethnologist in 1931. There is no Dogon alphabet or written documents, they record their history through elaborated mask ceremonies (the most important is organized every 60 years, the equivalent of a centenary, as the Dogon observe a 5 days week); the Dogon are animists and practice polygamy. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2420.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2423.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2478.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2500.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2503.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2581.jpg The Dogon elders enjoy chewing on cola nut (from Cote d'Ivoire); this is a bitter stimulant and appetite suppresser and the shape of the nut can be interpreted by the initiated. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2434.jpg Ropes are made from the bark of the baobab |
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http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2441.jpg Our guide in traditional attire, near a door decorated with animist symbols (the sacred animals are: the cayman, the turtle, the fox, the snake) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2567.jpg Some window blinds are decorated with elements from the Dogon cosmogony (the 8 ancestors, the fox divination etc) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2723.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_5573.jpg Traditional stool http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2574.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2577.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2578.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2812.jpg Dogon art is manipulated to ornate functional details or to mark a sacred spot http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2443.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2811.jpg Dogon kids http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2477.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_5553.jpg The Kani-Kombole mosque. Even if some Dogons have embraced Islam, they keep their fetishes and rituals swell. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2490.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2506.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2809.jpg The pot where women make millet flour. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2521.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2522.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2414.jpg The ancient Tellem houses are used for cereals storage. The Dogon women keep their valuables in the newly built grainiers. The number of these building indicates the number of wives one has. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2564.jpg The bushcamp - amazing view of the Bandiagara cliff |
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http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2596.jpg The traditional hat can be worn in 3 different ways according to use http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2597.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2609.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2582.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_5525.jpg Togouna - some sort of covered agora of the Dogon people, exclusively used by men to discuss public issues under the guidance of the eldest member of the village (the hogon). It is only 1,20 m hight, thus preventing any attempt to stand up and quarrel. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2619.jpg A Dogon pepiniere http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2643.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2659.jpg The house of the hogon in Indelou http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2660.jpg Sometimes the elders are just chillin' in the togouna http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2663.jpg Animist altar: the stone represents Amma, the divine god http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2674.jpg School in Teli, on th� board a quintessential African line: "Elle porte des oefs sur sa tete" http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2835.jpg Almost every village has a water source financed with European money http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/pano_dogon-7.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/pano_dogon-9.jpg The climax of the tour was arriving and overnighting in Begnimato, a magical village up on the falaise http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2707.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2714.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2729.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2740.jpg Natural togouna in Begnimato |
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http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2787.jpg Landscape artists are are jobless in Dogon Country http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2821.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2813.jpg Ana the hunter and his big guns. He has 20 kids, is a christian and the brother of Begnimato chief http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2762.jpg Our guide http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2773.jpg Nadine http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2770.jpg Ana & Roger looking into the abyss http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2785.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2625.jpg Food for the tourists: chicken with rice. The Dogon believe that the whites survive on a diet of canned foods and spaghetti. We had to insist to even taste their food: to (millet mash with baobab leaves) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2827.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/mali/IMG_2834.jpg We say goodbye to the fabulous Bandiagara cliff and set off to Burkina. |
How did you find good internet to post all these pictures there? You are probably posting this from Ouagadougou, no? Anyways, keep up the good work, I will be going back to Mali and Dogon in january with some friends, to explore the area a bit more on mopeds.It sure is a fantastic place!
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Going there on a moped is a brilliant idea as we found out the pistes connecting the villages are pure nightmare with our loaded Tenere. In the plane area (at the bottom of the falaise) is only sand... lots of it. Cheers, Ionut |
Sangha to Ouahoughyia - My Golgota
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We kicked off early from Sangha, northern Dogon Country. This cloudy day promised to be pleasantly cold, but it was a day that would end in misery. The first 5 km to Banani - a Dogon village with a picturesque waterfall - are similar to the Bandiagara - Sangha road: broken concrete patches interrupting the largely rocky piste, alternating with deep sand and pebbles. It steeply goes up and down through an amazing landscape that kept our spirits high for a while. But then we hit the plain and we were in no man's land: deep sand, pools of water from recent downpours rendering the road impassable, labyrinthian villages swallowing the piste that kept disintegrating into just an idea of going forward towards what we knew was Burkina Faso. 10 km further we turned right after Dougou and started the climb. Sandy hills kept on claiming our sweat and breath for hours. At over 400 kg load my Tenere felt uncontrollable from time to time (when the front end loses grip) and I rode it at sometimes 5 km/h, losing count of the falls as I was sliding and dancing in the uneven sand. Whenever the sand gave way to a superficial layer of grass I was riding along the road. We had to stop 2 times for about an hour each time, to rest and replenish the minerals lost through excessive sweating under the 40+ heat. I suggest you always carry some rehydrating salts and some calcium that you can drink with water. The alternate route to Burkina is gravel road from Bandiagara through Bankass. To navigate the sandy piste we took from Sangha, you should carry a GPS. The piste crosses the nomad territory, sometimes even nomad compounds. These elusive people are traditionally herders, men are always away with cattle and sheep, while their tattooed and adorned women are caring for the children. They live in huts made of twigs and dry leaves or in tents and carry all their belongings with when moving base. The 65 km to Koro, from where the sealed road begins, took us all day. We hit the sealed road by sunset and after a water refill we hastily set camp and fell asleep before 9 pm. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2864.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2865.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2866.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2869.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2871.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2872.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/burkina/IMG_2876.jpg |
North & Central Togo - Them Bloody Loud Roosters
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You may be crossing a modest border, where a rusty sign barely reads "La Republique Tolgolaise", but this is not a country you can miss. The diminutive Togo is loud and proud and it was to become one of our trip's highlights. At the border the police are half men, half con artists, half stand-up comedians and there is that joyful somewhat slimy feel of a route people place. A transit visa can be issued at the border (and later extended in Lome). We've got the Visa de l'Entente valid for 2 months for Togo, Benin, Niger and Cote d'Ivoire, issued at the Surete office in Ouagadougou. To apply go from 7.30 to 11.30 am to the building on Av. Kadiogo with your passport, 2 photos and 25000 CFA; the visa is issued within 8-48 hours. The Laissez Passer for Togo is processed in the pink building on the right, just behind the police station, and it costs 6000 CFA (5000 the laissez and 1000 laissez registration or the beer for the officer� we'll never know). The good news is that gas is cheaper in Togo, at 595 CFA/l. The 650 km long Route Internationale in the Togolese Autobahn, connecting West Africa to the Atlantic coast and the duty-free shipping hub that is the Lome port. This very important artery is heavily transited by innumerable hyper-loaded trucks, wearing off the poorly sealed tarmac. The first 50 km have huge potholes that could swallow a car, putting to shame the untarred section of Route de l'Espoir. After Dapaong, a dusty little town where we stopped for the first togolese lunch of pate and sheep head, the road is very good, so we were able to ride safely to Kara. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3220.jpg Pate - a corn based sticky polenta (the staple food in West Africa) with sheep brains and meat in a very hot sauce and a local beer http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3221.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3222.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3226.jpg En route to Kara we crossed the scenic Mt. Kabye area, covered in lush banana, millet and rice plantations dotted with karite trees. Arriving late in the evening in the town where the incumbent president poured significant cash into was a paranoia inducing experience. By nighttime the Togolese get their groove on: cars and scooters zoom by chaotically (many with no lights on), streets are buzzing with food vendors and smoking grills, fluorescent lit pubs are loudly broadcasting the local taste in music. To us, coming from the tranquil rice paddies of southern Burkina and after crossing muslim countries during the Ramadan, it felt like being swept into a very piney beach party. Togo is divided between two dominant tribes: the muslim Kabye control the north, while the christian Ewe inhabit the south. We decided to get a room to wash some stuff and dry our soaking wet tent and boots and on the way we grabbed a yummy street dinner: rice with beans, hot sauce, eggs and corn on a cob. The Togolese nights are long and extremely noisy, with people engaging in onomatopoeic conversations. Mornings though kick off with innumerable roosters giving a very loud wakeup call, so we barely got a few hours of good night sleep. In the early hours of the day Kara market is a lively beast. Breakfast joints sell rice and beans with sauce, meat, bread and hard-boiled eggs. Women carry boxes with doughnuts and bread on their heads like some kind of eccentric colorful hats. We bought a huge sweet pineapple and some uneventful grapefruit and later checked out the local dancing talents at a Maggi cubes sponsored contest next to the market. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3235.jpg Pate is sold wrapped in plastic or in banana leaves - 25 CFA http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3228.jpg The price of a Lipton Tea includes a bread roll; you can add scrambled eggs http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3229.jpg A local landmark http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/comparatie.jpg African beauty (left) vs. a Moroccan depiction of a woman http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3239.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3243.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3245.jpg The grass is as tall as a man along the road that crosses six geographic zones, from the Sahel in the north, to central rolling hills and dry savannah, stretching further to the plains that border the ocean http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3263.jpg We continued south to Bafilo, passing through the diminutive and postcard perfect Aledjo Fault and the many trucks and car wrecks that are sometimes left to rot in the middle of a turn. We rolled into Sokode - the second largest city of Togo - in time to stubble upon a group of girls selling freshly cut coconuts and to have lunch. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3269.jpg Lunch in Sokode: corn pate, okra, Guineea fowl with sauce and some mysterious bushmeat stew, gamey and delish. We cannot help but feel a little weird, as poaching is serious business in Togo http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/pano_togo-1.jpg Atakpame was our target for the night, en route we passed the village of Yomaboua, in Sotouba district. This was the first slave trading base from where people were herded to the river for washing, then hot iron marking and shipping by train to Lome. Every year African countries observe the world slavery day, to find out more visit We spent two nights in Atakpame at Auberge de l'Amitie, a chilled out place at an unbeatable price, where we took a shower and streched our bones. The auberge was a much welcomed rest, especially the second night, when we returned here after more than 200 km of potholed tracks, up on the coffee and cocoa planted hills beyond Badou. We arrived too late in the afternoon in Akloa to hike to the waterfall, but the ride was beautiful, if tiresome. The route passes with twists and hairpin bends through sleepy villages with hardly more than 10 mud houses with straw roofs, where the occasional local dj is blasting loudly some engaging african beats. As it's the rainy season, there are big water puddles and many muddy patches which are a bit of a hassle to cross. The beautiful panorama from uphill reveals rural fruit plantations and wild tropical forests, but also the heavily forested savanna below, where poaching and overpopulation are serious environmental concerns. That is correlated with the governmental lack of commitment for conservation; there is a swiss foundation working to repopulate with wildlife a small park in central Togo, but hunting is still allowed (we even saw a dead monkey carried by 2 men). We are amazed at how different this country is from its neighbors: people have distinct, more rounded features; they are very easy going and many don't even notice us, too involved in their daily chores to care about becoming impromptu guides. The few who interacted with us were genuinely nice and never asked for money or stuff. Maybe in Lome things will change. As we are in the month of Ramadan (Careme), the predominantly muslim northern half starts grilling it's spicy brochettes only after dark, so breakfast and lunch can be find only at street stalls: pate, rice, chicken, bushmeat, sauces, boiled eggs, avocado, corn on a cob. Beware of the local favorite sandwich: bread with mayo. Bread can be salty or sweet, almost like a cake, eaten with a millet porridge (boui) for breakfast. Weirdly, the ubiquitous unappetizing fried doughnuts are preferred by africans to the amazing fruit they have lying around. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3272.jpg Breakfast in Atakpame: avocado salad, rice & Guineea fowl in tomato sauce http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3280.jpg The breakfast joint where the girls have quickly become pals. As always, we are asked for our phone number and to help them come to Romania or Europe. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3287.jpg Up on the mountain on the way to Badou http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3292.jpg We found one tasty treat, loved by kids: sweet peanut paste with a dash of chili (Klo-kluoi) |
Lome - The Lingering Smell of Dictatorship
Wake up at 6.20sh, yoga with Tony Horton or do laundry, fix breakfast, say hello in Ewe to a gazillion people on our alley (all too familiar with our life story), negotiate the mad traffic to Lome (sandy deviation and bribes for the barrier people included), go to meetings, lunch at Maman's or at fufu bar, crash in our tent, repeat. This was our routine for the long 3 weeks we spend in the capital city of Togo. Lome is now like home. We have become familiar with life in this sprawling African city, most of which is under construction: streets are being paved or redesigned, sky-scraping bank HQs built, parks delimited. The major infrastructure operations are controlled by the Chinese, but the underpaid workers are Togolese, with wages starting at 800 CFA/day (1,20 Euro).
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3480.jpg Street workers are fancy Similar wages for the military personnel, a very conspicuous presence all over town, especially when the largely hated president passes through, stopping all traffic at very irregular and unpredictable hours. The president is the son of the former defunct chief of state who was a feared dictator and who messed up big time. Even if some reform has been implemented, the past is still part of the present. The president is serving for his second mandate, but it is likely that at the last minute the constitution will be altered so he can hold on to power for as long as he wishes, despite voters' choice. We witnessed one presidential escort crossing through downtown and the strong reaction it generated among the infuriated residents of Lome, who had to stop and wait at gun point for the shiny limousines to pass. Also while we were in Lome one of the many siblings of the president went on trial for conspiracy to organize a military coup about a year back. That again stopped all Lome for two days and tied people to their radios, but one can't help but wonder about a positive outcome. As our long stay allowed us to be close with a few locals, whom we spent time cooking, sharing our life and chatting till night would fall, we learnt some worrying details about what it means to live in a modern African dictatorship, something that us, Romanians, have almost forgotten. For example, if you would buy a nice car in Lome you might be asked to pledge it as a gift to the president and if you would open a new business you might get yourself arrested and held for inquiries about the source of your money. And I could go on. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3379.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3385.jpg Lome infrastructure developed and financed by the Chinese The suburbs are organized by districts or neighborhoods, controlled by a local chief who is elected during an elaborated ceremony from the "royal" family". People rely on their chief for all social matters, which makes them less aware of their power to elect and change governments they don't approve of and is allowing dictatorship to flourish. Preserving the tradition whilst living in a modern society is not easy. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3912.jpg Initially we were not planning to come to Togo at all, but here is Tony Togo, the only KTM dealer in the are where we could service the bike and repair our topcase, which had fallen off after kms of bumpy driving. . http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3332.jpg Our Tenere next to its older avatar We are staying at a well known overlander's joint, Chez Alice. As this blog is sharing our honest opinion, we are forced to badmouth the place. In a word, it stinks. Literally. The decaying huts smell and the communal toilets reeking of piss are unbearable; the monkeys, imprisoned in the name of love, are embarrassing to watch. Due to the ongoing street works, we were far from anything of interest and wasted a lot of time on dusty and sandy detours to Lome. First morning of our arrival one of the dogs bit me and teared my only trousers, Alice didn't care. But if you are like us, and decide to stay for the cheap camping (1000 CFA each), ask the lovely Yawo to let you pitch your tent in the second compound, which is quiet, clean and pleasant. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3299.jpg Now let's stop ranting about and focus on the food again. Prices are higher in Lome than elsewhere in Togo, but street food is spectacular. The Togolese are passionate foodies, with countless variations of sweet and savory treats widely available. We had superb lunches at this central street-restaurant, where a family serves on weekdays from 1 pm rice, beans, pasta and pate with various proteins in chili sauce. To find this gem, get in line with the business people on Av. 24 Janvier, opposite Boston Pub, near the French Institute. Also you will find here excellent homemade lemonade and bissap juice. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3488.jpg With Maman Victorine, the queen of Lome lunches, cooking some of the best rice we've had in years. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3410.jpg Ana with Beauty, the lovely daughter of the lunch lady and our new friend. She is beninoise/ togolese, spending holidays in Togo helping her mum http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3504.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3494.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3515.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3304.jpg Another popular street food: pate rouge (millet flour, corn flour, tomato paste, tomato sauce, onion, peppers, Maggi cube) with chicken wings and yam wedges Fufu bars serve a tasty West African staple, now in season: yam fufu with sauces (peanut and mackerel, tomatoes with onion or spinach and beef) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3332.jpg Boui, a millet porridge, is served with sweet bread for breakfast. We don't care so much for it (preferring to prepare our own guacamole with vegetable salad, or to eat chili beans with eggs in the morning) http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3294.jpg African Cola - a popular corn and caramel soft drink http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3296.jpg Togolese cheese is a delicacy made from cow's milk and wrapped in a leafy plant that gives it a reddish hue; is usual sold in the north and also at the Benin border http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3524.jpg Few days into our stay we settled for this hearty breakfast: beans with chili oil and cornflour. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3455.jpg And the inescapable African food fetish: sugar cane We were happy to see again the ocean after weeks of riding through desert or landlocked savannah. The beach is nice, but not unspoiled, whith houses and bars lining the ocean. The waves were too strong for swimming or for fishing and the seafloor is quite steep. When the sea got calmer we found great fish and seafood at local fishermen. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3359.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3379.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3530.jpg In Lome many locals grab a picnic or catch a game of foot on the beach that lines the Atlantic coast. |
We would have stayed in Chez Alice only as long as we needed to wash our stuff, but in Lome we faced the troubles of getting the Nigeria visa. After being rejected once, we thought we should attempt to obtain a letter of invitation and try again. The Sallah holiday pushed our next attempt at the visa one week later, as the whole Nigeria stopped to celebrate the end of Ramadan. This extra time allowed us to meet the mini Romanian community in Togo and the honorary consul, Mr. Alin Roman, head of Togolese Dacia/Renault subsidiary, and who very graciously assisted us with the visa. As always, the expats from our country who chose to live in Africa are not ordinary people. We were invited for a delish fusion dinner at Virginia's and enjoyed yummy traditional Romanian dinners at Stefan and Nicoleta's. Romanian cheese is nothing like its French, British or Swiss counterparts (we had smoked cow cheese and sheep cheese in fir tree bark); it is rustic, but still handmade in mountainous areas from fresh unpasteurized milk; quite tasty, goes nicely with a dry red wine. Eating this simple cheese in Togo suddenly felt exotic and we wondered again why the Romanians don't cherish their heritage more, while being more fair about our flaws.
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3554.jpg Together with Alin Roman and Mr. Dumitru at Dacia showroom http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3389.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3417.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3428.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3432.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3435.jpg Images taken inside Togo Bois, a teak factory headed by Stefan http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3521.jpg Lome was the place to fix another small disaster that hindered our travels since Ouaga. Our GPS - the one that we had to buy back from the thief in Morocco - broke there and proved impossible to repair. This time we decided we cannot be cheap again and went for the expensive but hopefully more sturdy Garmin Zumo, that we bought online, had it shipped to Paris, had a friend carry it to the airport where a contact of our consul brought it in Lome by airplane. Let's hope that we won't have to dig again this deep in our pockets or we may have to go home sooner than planned. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3533.jpg I am ecstatic for the new GPS http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3400.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3549.jpg We were lucky to find many like-minded people in Togo. They (Gaspard, Devine, Blondine, baby Lea nicknamed Chocolate, Nesto, Epiphany) were our daily buddies, happy to share a laugh, taste our cuisine, watch us exercise and listen to our travel stories spiced with pics and videos. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3359.jpg After 3 weeks we were settled into our own rhythm, eating and fruit shopping at the same ladies, moving about like locals, when we finally got the Nigeria visa. We happily packed our stuff and set off to Benin, not before ditching the very used tires that took us over 14000 km and after mounting the knobbies (fingers crossed that they'll last till Namibia!). http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3464.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3467.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3475.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3541.jpg Ready to make a move and gulping our last beans'n cornflour breakfast. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3555.jpg Exit Togo via a serene road that lines the turquoise ocean after the fetish center of Aneho http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3561.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3578.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/togo/IMG_3583.jpg |
BENIN - Fetish or Coconut Country
This wasn't at all what we expected. We chose to stop in Togo to service the bike and got stuck there for over 3 weeks for the Nigerian visa, so had less than 3 days left to see what we could from Benin. We created quite a sensation when we showed up at the border, where Togolese and Beninese crowds cross over on foot and where street-side stalls with brochettes and fried yam are catered for by Nigerian refugees arrived here at the end of the 90s. We already had a visa so we asked for a cheaper Laissez Passer that would allow us to transit the country. As there was no such thing, we took the custom officer's advice and set off without, only to regret the decision 3 days later, when we had to negotiate the price down from 20000 CFA to the original 5000 CFA. Gas is 540 CFA/l and roads are in poorer condition. We stopped over for a fufu after the dusty resort of Grand Popo, and rolled cheerfully towards Ouidah.
http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3587.jpg In the XVII-th century Benin was still split into several principalities, but eventually one chief prevailed and started in Dahomey (present day Abomey) a bloody dynasty of ruthless kings. Their leisure consisted in frequent invasions of the neighboring Yorubas in Nigeria and building bank palaces rumored to owe their red color to the blood of defeated enemies. Also they eagerly cashed in the gold from the very lucrative slave trade based in Ouidah and Porto Novo and run by the Portuguese, the French, the British and the Dutch. Between 1800 and 1900 over 10000 slaves were shipped by boat from the so dubbed Slave Coast to Brazil and the Caribbean, particularly Haiti. The slaves brought along a robust gastronomy, lively folklore and the voodoo tradition, which was formally recognized as religion only as recent as 1996. It's hard not to get emotional along the 4km that were the last walked by the slaves on their way to meet their destiny. Ouidah is today a sleepy resort with largely paved roads, but this lonely route lined with palm trees, fetishes and monuments was symbolically left untouched. The sandy piste passes by the monument of the Tree of Forgetfulness, the tree that once stood here was circled by the slaves to induce eternal oblivion upon their previous life in Africa and erase their home memories. At the end of the line we found ourselves in front of the Point of No Return, a monument that recalls the 1970's marxist regime rather than the emotional life of the African slaves. We gaze for minutes into the abyss of the horizon, beyond the forever blue that was once that last image on the retina of many people, before descending into the darkness of their implacable fate. Not far from the Point of No Return we enjoy a lovely chat with a bunch of youngsters who sell some meaty and fragrant coconuts. We choose to roll towards Cotonou on the beautiful Route des Peches. 42 of sandy piste, and the knubbies make the difference. Barely ten fishing villages are quietly lining one of the most romantic routes we drove on in Africa. Traditional vegetal huts, old boats carved from a whole tree trunk, we ride alone while digesting the heavy emotions from earlier. In the magically warm and long light of the sunset, the clouds of sand our Tenere leaves behind are shimmering like gold. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3592.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3595.jpg We find drinking water at some generous shy fishermen and later we look for a camping spot in the beach. We end up near the compound of a local chief, a very well spoken and dressed man, who welcomes us happily. We stay up late chatting life and food and in the background the capital lights up the night. In the morning we brew black Sri Lankan tea with milk for everybody, and they feed us the best coconuts ever. On the beach the fishermen have already formed a line and are sweating over the full nets. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3597.jpg Cotonou makes quite an impression on us: solid infrastructure, modern office buildings, a maze of a market, good street food but an insane traffic and kamikaze zemi-johns (motorcycle taxis) zooming from very direction. Benin was dubbed The West African Latin Quarter because of its people: loud, energetic and very chatty, always glad to start an intellectual or political debate. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3608.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3609.jpg We were meant to be heading for Abomey, in the heart of the Fon country. The 140 km of bad potholed tarmac proved a boring ride, along which we met just dilapidated trucks with hysterical drivers. This was the main road, so we decided to drop the idea of going back to Cotonou the next day on a secondary road, but we cringed at the thought of having to ride on this road not once, but twice. The historical capital of the bloody kingdom that shattered the peace over a huge chunk of Africa didn't impress us as much. UNESCO has pomped some money to establish the Dahomey Trail, along which the former palaces are scattered. But the buildings are either abandoned to ruin or so neatly restored that they appear brand new, and that doesn't help with the overall charm. The locals can't be bothered to cater for the old sites but are eager to collect any money they can squeeze from the tourists. We forfeit the pricey museum ticket and head to the market, to browse the voodoo merchandise on sale. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3613.jpg Voodoo comes from the Fon and Ewe word vodun, which means hidden or mistery. The present set of beliefs are an amalgam of traditional and catholic ideas that formed in the Caribbean. Voodoo is a daily aspect of life in both Togo and Benin. The fetish market is like a voodoo pharmacy, where the wood dolls and dead animals' parts (gri-gris) can be purchased at the indication of a juju man. The ceremonies usually revolve around the consultation of spirits of dead ancestors, who are offered the gift of certain aliments or domesticated animals. Unfortunatelly the voodoo religion has been harmed by the policy of the marxist government that abandoned it to the exploit of Hollywood. We let you enjoy the pics of dead gri-gris and of an unfortunate but very much alive chameleon that un unscrupulous fellow would have liked to sell to us for less than 4 Euros. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3623.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3625.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/benin/IMG_3622.jpg In less than 24 hrs we were to roll for the first time into the dreaded Nigeria we'd heard so much about, and nothing could have prepared us for what was to come. |
Lagos - Inferno and Paradise
First, we were reassured that we would get a visa, "no problem" said the nice visa lady at the Nigerian Embassy in Togo. "We cannot issue the visa for you" she said when we showed up to pick our passports two days later. "The UN headquarters in Abuja was bombed and 20 people were killed in the attack" emailed Rotila. And Louis who was the only one who could have helped us with an invitation from a Nigerian company for the embassy was in bed with malaria. Everything that could go wrong went. And yet, on the 14th of September, on our 93rd day of overloading through Africa, we arrived at the border with a stamp in our passports that had bought us the right to enter the dreaded Nigeria. This is a different country in a new and raw way we haven't encountered since crossing the No Man's Land between Morocco and Mauritania.
After lengthy bargains with the Beninese custom officers and socializing with border police who fetched a trustworthy moneychanger for us, the rusty barrier was lifted and we were finally in. We knew immediately that this was the second A heat haze was frying the horizon and our nerves. I parked and went to sort out the papers. There were many tall slender AK 47 armed Nigerian officials asking for many un-officials fees. I showed them a pile of papers while explaining why we don't have a Carnet and hoped for the best. "Your situation is very difficult", the tall slender AK 47 armed officer who picked me from the parking said. "You have to post a bond for your bike, that you may collect on your way out". After an hour and a half of intense negotiations we were friends. A friendship that cost a hefty 30 Euros (laissez passer plus stamps) and a headache. In the meantime Ana was busy chatting the other people off, while under the terrible suspicion that they were in no position to allay. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/lagos-2.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/lagos-3.jpg Road to Lagos - photo credits Nigerian media The next 80sh kilometers were a shock to the senses: after the pauper but healthy street life we got used to in West Africa, suddenly we were navigating a chaos of brand new Q7s and MLs with spinners and custom rims, drivers in white T-shirts and oversized sunglasses with rhinestones. It was like stepping through the magic mirror into an alternate universe, but soon the luxury cars with 3.5 l tanks merged along dilapidated cars and trucks into a suffocating flow of petrol-heads on their way to Lagos. Every other 500m or so people in all sort of uniforms or - more alarming - civilians with guns would throw a wooden plank with hooks in front of the cars, forcing them to pull over. Sometimes we had to stop and chat until they forgot about asking for money. We shook many hands and smiled many smiles and told our story maybe 20 times but we arrived at Mile 2 without paying any Naira. The price for petrol is shockingly low: 65 Naira/l, less than 40 cents. Rumor has it that it is artificially controlled by the government to prevent civil unrest, because there are no refineries in Nigeria and the crude oil is exported to other countries, then later imported back as end product. Nigeria is the most populous country in Africa and possibly the most diverse nation in the world, home to a vast array of people speaking an astonishing 840 languages. Yoruba, Hausa and Igbo are the 3 main languages, with english and pidgin widely spoken and understood. Immense natural resources, many untapped, coexist alongside sheer poverty. It is a country of extremes, where the rich are not in any Forbes statistics and where white people are constantly reminded by everyday life that they are no longer in power, but guests at a table where the best bets are up for grabs. Hardly explored by tourists at ground level, clouded by terrorist Boko Haram and marred by a dihcotomic fight for the black gold of the Niger Delta, Nigeria was before us: a mystery and a challenge. Within the next month we were to meet the fringe Nigeria, surely unable to comprehend its vastness, not to get nowhere near the heart of it. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/lagos-5.jpg Life for ordinary Nigerians is tough, so they have to be strong enough to survive it. Here if you don't wake up and go out there and work hard, you die. If you stop in the middle of the highway, you die. If you are afraid to ask what you need, you die. It's that simple. Especially in Lagos. To come all the way to Nigeria and miss the fastest growing city on the African continent would be crazy. By 2020, Lagos is estimated to become the third largest city in the world, with 24 million people, and these are the official numbers. The many that get by in the slums of the mega-city remain unaccounted for. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/lagos-1.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/lagos-5.jpg Lagos - Victoria Island http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/lagos-2.jpg The sand people: they can't swim, but they dive in the murky waters of the lagoon to collect sand in buckets, then they sell it for a few Nairas at construction sites. Most can't survive this job more than a few years. Louis took Ana on an introductory speed boat ride through the port and I plunged into an introductory ride through the rush hour traffic of a megacity of 14 million. It was exhilarating and insane. Kamikaze motorcyclists were shuttling clients through every inch available. They are the okadas and their life is expandable. 4x4s, limos, minibuses, trucks and cars hurtle through the okadas at computer game speed. Red light, roundabout, lanes, sidewalk, traffic police are utterly useless bits. The point is to move forward by all means as fast as possible. 90 minutes later I knew hell had set up serious business in the streets of Lagos. And yet, I was digging it. During the following 5 days we tried to look into the eye of this monster city. We fell under the spell of this unique, vibrant, mad, excruciating place of a million faces, born out of explosive population growth, a place that feeds on money and power. In their book "Last Chance to See", Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine wite: "in different parts of the world strikingly similar but completely unrelated forms of life would emerge in response to similar conditions and habitats." They talk about behavior patterns and about the gift shop "habitats of Spain or Greece" where "the local people cheerfully offer themselves up for insult and abuse in return for money which they spend on further despoiling their habitat to attract more money-bearing predators." Cities are immense organisms where, likewise, local inhabitants develop special skills to better adapt to the concrete and steel habitat. Dubbed the New York of Africa, Lagos has surely its Nigerian versions of the many life forms that populate every speck of one of the world's most intricate cities. In this complex and paradoxical context, we visited Marine's workplace, the Louis Pasteur French school, where we we become subject of study for a bunch of reasonably rich and quite smart kids. We had fun asking questions like: "How did you cros the sea?", "How can you have Naira when in Europe you have the Euro", or "How do you repair the moto", "What do you eat", "How do you wash" or "Why didn't you take the plane?". We had a brilliant time, followed by another mad downtown crossing with Ana trailing our bike with an okada. http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/IMG_3640.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/IMG_3643.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/IMG_3647.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/IMG_3652.jpg http://intotheworld.eu/blog/nigeria/IMG_3668.jpg These kids were screaming of joy when they heard the price tag for my bike. One said he's got the money to buy it and that he's going home to demand his dad to get him a bike asap. |
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