Timbuctu - Desert City

Arriving late at night there was little to see of this almost mythical city - a shower was of greater importance to be honest; after 72 plus hours on a Pinnase with limited water in spite of the River n which we traveled, a shower was no longer a luxury!

* Sunrise in Timbuktu

The next day we toured the city, picking up on the way a stamp in my passport and a few trinkets - Tuareg crosses - seeing old manuscripts, hand written copies of the Koran centuries old, the autobiography's of long deceased holy men. walking amongst the alleyways of the older part of the city was like stepping back in time, it was easy to imagine that I was no longer in 2010 but in a place 200 yrs or more on the past.

* An ornate door

* Artwork on an ancient manuscript

* My first Tuaregs


Sadly, this year's festival was to be a let down in spite of the fact that it was its 10th edition. Up till now, since its inception the Festival au desert has been held 65km away in Essakane, a desert oasis further north which served as an annual meeting place for the nomadic Tuareg - a Berber nomadic pastoral people. They are the principal inhabitants of the Saharan interior of North Africa.

Citing security the Festival was moved on short notice to Timbuktu, to be celebrated in conjuncture with celebrations for Mali's 50th independence anniversary and 15 years if culture and tourism in the city proper - the end result was a chaotic event with poor crowed control on the first day, mismanaged sound on the second and music that, in my opinion, was more for city folk than the nomads it was supposed to be for.


* Arrivals

* The stage in the making

But, I was there and while I was not to experience the festival as it was, I would as it is - and I did! I had traveled for 5 days by car and boat, slept under the stars, watched life along the river as it had been for centuries, I was here in a city that many think does not exist, I was there, at the edge of the Sahara in Timbuktu!

Over the next three days I wandered happily around, camera in hand, listening to music from the likes of Tinariwen, Annane Sye, Rhissa Ag Wanagli, Tartit Mamar Kassey, Mangala Camara, Amadou & Mariam, Vieux Farka Toure, Oumou Sangare and more. I haggled with Tuaregs, sitting on the hot desert sands sipping minute cups of chai, sat on a dune at sunrise to watch the sun come up, thinking about one of my favorite books - The Little Prince - dosed away the afternoon heat sprawled out in a Tuareg tent, sipped a cold beer as the sun set, watching the shadows deepen and feel the temperature plummet


















































I had been to Timbuktu

Update from Bamako

This morning I needed to find the residence of the ‘Ambassade de la Republique de XXXXXX au Mali’ for I was in need of a visa to go there.

Stepping out on to the street, the first taxi driver was not too receptive, and I have grown rather cagey about such souls, harmless though they maybe.

Lady luck though was looking my way, for the next taxi to stop brought with it a driver claiming to be no less than a brother to his Excellency the Ambassador himself!

Obtaining visas in the region to travel within the region is relatively easy. The official fee, bolstered with a little buckshee does wonders and it is not unusual to get what you want in a matter of hours, a day at the most.

Well, we arrive with no further ado at the embassy; my ‘chauffeur’ accompanies me inside and seems quite lordly about it too. The Secretary to the Ambassador appears, I state my request, an exchange between my new friend and him and voila, in ten minutes I am in possession of the required document, signed and stamped! I am impressed.

There is a saying in these parts, ‘C’est l’Afrique’, the equal of ‘This is Africa’…. An exclamation that covers not only the good but the bad too, Murphy’s Law if you like. For anything can happen. A flight delayed due to the absence of jet fuel, luggage lost for a few days, only to appear in another country altogether…. The trick is in keeping a smile on your face, to walk in Africa, expecting the worst, hoping, praying for the best.

I am happy to be here, for I enjoy the opportunity to move with people, to have a hands on approach to what I do. I do not miss my office, the people I work with, I do miss my Lady, my friends.

There is a young man I know here. The first day we met, attired in an old t shirt, a pair of jeans and scruff ed boots. His office, a cramped, dusty dimly light room, cluttered desk….. The next day he was still attired as he was 24hrs before. That evening as we met for dinner, his wardrobe remained as it was. And yet, outside, his chariot a BMW X5 SUV.

He is bright, he is young and he is a star this man. But to see him on the street, you would not know him to be so. Yesterday I toured his new office, a warehouse downstairs, his office upstairs, it was good to see his success, his achievements.

Bamako

Well, the cave never materialised, but I did get up to 'Point G' above the city.

Point G above the city offers a panoramic view of almost the entire city of Bamako, on both sides of the Niger.

The drive from the hotel took about fifteen minutes, through the city streets, past the museum and the zoo, gently climbing up. Past the hospital, along a gravel road to see Bamako below, stretching ahead and to both sides.