He Says – Mali

09 – 10 October 09
We wanted to miss the heat. The thought of a hot sun and a border crossing was too much. We headed off from Ayoun el’Atrous at 0700H. We knew what road to take (cus we asked). We did not get lost. Stopping only at a roadside bread seller. We passed thought the first check point of the day and the land scape opened up before us and it was beautiful. Mauritania was the one place in my life that I have been that never ceased to stun me at every turn. We followed signs to Kobeni, a large town about 20k from the border, getting there was easy the road was in the best condition that we have seen. Save for a few potholes that could eat us whole without a problem. It was a fast 100k. We passed though several more check point on route and were not surprised when the douane (customs) checkpoint in Kobeni, did not even look up at us. There has been a history of these check point, which are in every large town only looking at lorries. We passed though Kobeni, with the expectation of the border to come it was only about 0900, it was still “cool” (only about 35° C). We though things were going great. We did notice that the police check points were getting more and more unfriendly though, we did not know why. The next police check point was manned by a surly gentleman that took our passports (first time in Mauritania) and walked into his office. 10 or so minutes later he comes back and hands us our passports and with out an other word waves us though. We set off thinking that the border must be all of 2k away and we would have to go though it again.

We pull up to the next check point which was, as predicted, 2k further down the road. The first thing we noticed was the uniform was the wrong colour. Then the flag was Red yellow green, not green with yellow crescent moon. Oh shit.. We drove right though the Mauritanian border with out knowing it. The Malian border cop just smiled when we said we had to go back for customs. It was a knowing and joyful smile. We must not have been the first!

We turned around. Arriving at the only place it could be the final police stop. We asked about custom. “No that is 20k back in Kobeni”.. Gee thanks.. So we shot off. Arriving in customs the guards did not know what to do with the carnet, but I point to the lines and it was filled out with no problems.

We jetted back though the 3 police checkpoints, until we reached the final one and they just waved us though like we were some kind of annoyance. Once again at the Mali border we were waved in with no hassle we handed over our passports and waited. No sooner was the police back in their office did a man approach offering to exchange money. It should be noted that it is against Mauritanian law to remove Oogs from the country. We currently had 80,000oog on us. But we were in Mali and it is not illegal to have them there. One of the police saw the guy offering us exchange and yelled for me to come over and him to bugger off. The border consisted of me filling out an entry form for us both and a welcome to Mali.

Next step or so I though was customs. I went over and a nice man who looked like Bill Cosby took my papers for about 2 seconds and told us “okay now go to the big office in Nioro du Sahel, its 65k away”. O’kay…Off we went no customs no insurance no proof that the bike or anything else is ours. We did get stopped and register with the army (an other 2 minutes and we were off).

It felt really odd to have waltzed though the border like that. But Mali was every bit as stunning as Mauritania. There are just as many birds of and many species as you can think of. There were also many people in colourful costumes (Mali being the more colourful) the land scape was stunning turn a bit more green then the bluegreen of the few days before. Fields and lakes stretching for as far as the eye could see. The only downside so far it that it was even hotter.

We arrive at Nioro du Sahel, felling good but hot. There were no signs, nor any indication but an other money changer ran up to us and told us that he will change our “euros, or oogs, over there at the customs booth”. Once again I would have never guessed, I arrived and the process was done with good grace and speed and not even the hint of a cadeux. The money changer showed up and offer again to change money. I needed some as we still need to buy local insurance. He offered 1250CFA for 1000oogs Tam had already estimated that the rough exchange was 1750per I knew that there was a lot of variation but I did not quite buy his offer. I said no. Buy this time the insurance guy was summoned, we were upto 1500CFA. My trap was set.

We went into the insurance office and western union office and they said they would exchange the money. They offered 1200 per.. I laughed and said I will go back to the first guy as he offered be 1600CFA, they knew I had them. They agreed to my rate reluctantly, to be honest I am not sure what the official rate was but I know it was close, and these guys had no fees. We purchased a Carte Brun which covers most of central Africa. Job done we headed in to the main section of Nioro du Sahel.

Nioro du Sahel, has five paved roads, four that are roughly in a rectangle bisected by the 5th, the now “officially dubbed worst guide book ever” told us that there was only 2 places to say, we could not find either. Eventually we found a bunk house but Tam was not allowed to say as it was full of men and they don’t do mixed rooms. The owner did however call the only other hotel and they sent someone to get us. He sat with us talking while we waited. He wanted nothing but a handshake. Mauritania and now Mali was making me love Africa, and they were undoing what Morocco had done.

Shortly after a young impeccably dressed man arrived on a 125cc bike. We were instructed to follow. Which we did, but he knew the roads and was fast. I had a hard time keeping up along some of the bumpier and sandier parts of the pistes. When we arrived at the hotel is was fine. No hidden bike parking but I was not too worried there was a guard. We relaxed in the room for about half and hour before joining the men at the front of the building to eat our lunch and watch the world go by.

World watching is a full time occupation in both Mauritania and Mali. The men where happy to have us and where as friendly as our broken communications could allow for. The shared their wonderful watermelon with us, with no stings attached. It was well just plane nice to be with people that do not just see you as a walking wallet. After the heat had broken a little Tam and I headed into town (about 2k walking). There we were treated like popstars the kids would flock around us and want to shake our hands. The men and woman all said hello. We were stared at and everyone wanted to say hello or shake my or Tam’s hand, but that was it. No other hassles at all. We saw Fulani woman walking around, this is finally the Africa I came to see. I was so excited.

While walking around I saw the British couple from the Auberge in Mauritania driving around with the look that I must have had on my face in Spain when the Columbian-British expat interrupted his afternoon coffee for us. It’s the of “I’m tired, hot, cant find a bloody thing.. and I unhappy”. I flagged them down. I was right, they where. I told them why I stopped them and they were all to happy too be shown the hotel where we where staying.

We wandered around looking for some dinner and quickly realised that there was not a restaurant to be found. Finally in a shop where we were buying our lunch for the next day I asked. It started a great debate, which resulted in one young man walking us around the entire city looking for an open place to eat. He failed. But he tried really hard. I actually saw one of the butchers had a BBQ and we told him that we would eat there. He was shock and surprised that the white people were eating like locals, but also happy. We ate our meal in relative peace the only beggar was a child that was begging from everyone. He was quickly shooed away by the butcher. Walking back to the hotel I ended up directing 3 other 4x4 travellers to the hotel as well (I should get a touts fee! Oh wait this is not Morocco). So far Mali has been great, and the people seem even happier then in Mauritania. The one thing I have noticed is that the woman are not required to be separate or covered. They walk around wearing anything they want from the covered look to a fitted traditional dress tank top thing to western styles with no hassles. I have seen men and woman holding hands, they co-mingle (not necessarily to the same extent as in the western world but as much as they want to). Tam commented on how she was surprised that I was smiling and letting the kids hi-5 me and shake my hand. This did not surprise me, it was something I was expecting to have happen and it was nice compared to the previous hassle we were getting. What did surprise me was how much of a feminist I am. I was happy to see woman being treated like equals something that really bothered me in Morocco.

We only spent one night in Nioro du Sahel, we woke early to make it to Bamako. When I got out to the bike the Alarm indicator told me that someone had messed with it. But the Guard told me this two seconds later. All was okay in that regard, when I turned on the bike the charger was gone again. I stripped off the panel to see that the same wires had cooked again. I stripped them back as far as I could this time and even sanded them down to make sure that there was not a poor connection and rewired it all up again. However instead of taping them in a bundle I have wired them out to increase airflow. I also decided to cut bigger vents into the side panel and see if this helps. For you XRVers out there the rally Reg/Rec for Electrex has survived two overloads (one with fire) and is still working fine in 50° Saharan heat. It you plan on travelling get one!!