sévaré, mali
timbuktu is synonymous with the end of the earth. the dusty settlement at the northern bend of the niger and the southern shore of the sahara has a mystic calling to travelers, from those seeking its wealth or knowledge to those seeking its isolated existence. it was an immediate goal of mine to reach the ancient city when i decided to come to west africa, yet its with only slight disappointment that i decided not to pursue this destination.
one reason is the river. the mighty niger is an impressive sight, but she's not flowing like she will deeper into the rainy season, meaning that the pinasse trips there take about 4 days instead of 2. with about a week at my disposal, that means the next option would be a 12 hour ride in a land cruiser. the guide book calls the ride 'tough', and based on the rides i've taken that did not warrant the same description, i think i have enough of an idea.
the other reason is that i've been persuaded by something better, and importantly, closer: dogon country. the dogon are a people who've more or less eschewed modern ways and live in villages above, below, and within a massive escarpment. tomorrow morning i'll have my daypack ready and set off for 2 or 3 nights (fine print yet to be settled) of trekking through and sleeping in some of these villages. so while i will not get to say i've been to the famous name, i should return from the few days of radio silence with a story to tell.
snapshot of why the 7-hour bamako-mopti ride on sunday took 14 hours:
somewhere close to midnight ( we departed around 2 pm), the bus driver suavely dodges a long, thin, inanimate object in the right lane of the 2-lane road and gradually brings the bus to a stop a moment later. he gives some instructions in bambara to the attendants, two of whom descend from the bus with flashlights. we reverse slowly. the attendants shout at a certain point and the bus driver stops the vehicle, then descends himself. after 2 minutes, i decide to see what is going on. the object in question was nothing more than a thin plank of wood, i would guess that it would be an excellent canvas to paint the name of a lemonade stand upon. the attendants at this point were reshuffling luggage in the compartment below to accomodate the plank of wood so coveted by our chauffeur. up above, 30 passengers are in various stages of exhaustion and perspiration.
potential suggested slogans to the malian tourism board:
eat with the right, wipe with the left, that's the way we keep it deft!
come for the kora, stay for the escarpments
it's 120° outside but we'll never wear shorts.
favorite malian roadsign:
! literally, a triangular sign with an ! on it. i have no idea what it means, partially because the road does not curve nor does there appear to be anything remotely significant nearby.
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