Gathering of the three

Trying to help local with flat tyre

Guess who arrived in Bamako on my last day there? Morton.  He literary flew through Guinea to get to Bamako.  All three motorbikes on roughly the same time frame where now in the same place.  Weird if you think of the size of Africa, but good for us.  Our plans where different for the first few days, but we planned to hook up in about a week in Mopti and then all travel together for the next bit.

Friendly locals.

Morton needed to get some visas in Bamako and Dominique was going to go part way north with me.  There were quite a few security warnings issued by various governments during the last year or so about the area north of Timbuktu.  The Belgian government actually went so far as to request that all Belgians who are in the area leave it ASAP.  Ouch.  Because of these Dominique wasn't keen for the last bit north to Timbuktu,  he planned on heading east to a world famous rock formation, Fatima's hand.

Djenne's mud mosque

I was still very keen to go all the way to Timbuktu.  Not so much for the place it self, but the last 200km was supposed to be a really hard gravel road which I was quite keen for.  I am still desperate to put me and the bike through some rough travelling.  On my initial plans Timbuktu is also roughly the half way mark (calculated by distance not time), so a nice idea to celebrate half way in the legendary Timbuktu.  The part of the Niger river between Mopti and Timbuktu is also supposed to be stunning, so I wanted to try and put the bike on a boat and spend a few days lazily cruising to Timbuktu, and then tackle the gravel road on my way back. Initially, I was a bit worried about the travel warnings, but everyone I spoke to who was there recently said it was perfectly safe.  The owner of the backpackers in Bamako regularly travels the route and lots of the people staying there have been to Timbuktu with no safety issues.  So my mind was made up, but I couldn't convince Dominique to join me all the way there.  He was only willing to go north up to Douentza, from where  he would head east to Fatima's hand.  I didn't mind doing the last bit alone,  I have been thoroughly enjoying the parts that I have done alone.

Filth running down the streets of  Djenne

Travelling to Mopti was pretty straight forward.  A great little drive, with very friendly locals in the small villages.  Funniest bit was our accommodation for the night.  We wanted to camp but ran out off daylight playing on a beautiful piece of gravel.  We arrived at our camping after dark so tried to stay in the dorms.  The manager wasn't very happy because the dorms haven't been used for a few years.  We didn't mind.  Just wanted a bed for a few hours and a shower, so we convinced him to let us stay in the dorms.  On entering them they where filthy, with a dead bat and rat droppings on the floor.  At least the mattresses looked clean with fresh new linen.  When I tried to shower thick red mud came out off the shower.  Ironically the place had a huge big swimming pool with perfectly clean sparkling water.  Pure bliss after a day's driving.

The worst part was the mud mosque of Djenne.  It is the world's largest mud mosque and a World Heritage Site.  Huge on the gringo's trail, but because of the travel warnings very few tourists where there, and the area is massively dependant on tourists for income.  There where so many guides and touts following you around that they actually ruined the whole experience.  It was one of the few times I didn't feel safe leaving the bikes, so we just had a quick peek and left.  Djenne was a huge disappointment,  it could have been really nice with a gorgeous setting, mud houses and a beautiful mosque, but it was filthy and falling apart.  Funny how the people would rather chase the few tourists away than do something constructive with their town.  We even had to pay tourist tax to enter the town, supposedly to help with reconstruction, but I'm sure it all went into someone's back pocket.

No sunset in the desert.  Sun just disappears behind a haze of dust

Mopti's harbour

Mopti was a gorgeous place set right on top off the river, but we got completely screwed by the 'boat mafia.'  We had some guides help us find a possible boat to ship the bikes on, but in the end they just increased the price to impossible levels.  I was really keen to do a few days on a boat but at the prices the people where asking it was not worth it.  We decided to try and find a boat without the help off guides, a lot easier said than done.  It took us more than an hour to get rid of them, so it wasn't until the afternoon that we managed to go around on our own.  The prices for the trip was still ridiculously expensive, but at least the owners where willing to negotiate.

Fishermen unloading their catch

This lead to some fun and interesting negotiations. That is until the 'boat mafia' found us and then negotiations stopped or the prices went up again.  Aaaggghhhh, so frustrating, and in the end way too expensive.

Grandfather biker.  7 years on the road.

Mopti sunset

These guides made a claim to us because they saw us first, and wanted a cut of everything we where willing to pay for.  What we later figured out is that the guides are stuck in 'the good old days' when hordes of tourists would come and pay ridiculous amounts to get to Timbuktu.  Paying a fortune to hire a whole boat or plane to get them there.  With the world wide credit crunch and the numerous travel warnings this has stopped, but the guides refuse to lower their prices (law of supply and demand doesn't exist), and some even go so far as to make things more expensive.  The idea is that the few tourists who go there must make up for the ones who don't.  Even at the best of times as tourists we pay huge amounts more than the locals, but the guides would rather make no sale than lower their prices to more affordable levels.  It is phenomenally sad to see people so desperate for extra income, but they are so greedy that they would rather take nothing than lower their prices to something closer to local levels. Don't think that the people where scared of making a loss, even with the best negotiations we would pay more than double what the locals pay.

Greeting the village chief.   He's naked. Brilliant.

Even with the guides and touts trying their best to ruin everything I had a great time in Mopti.  It's a beautiful little town, with a gorgeous harbour.  Very colourful and very lively, but I couldn't stay long. Timbuktu was calling.  With the boat option not being viable I would have to do the gravel road twice.  I really hope it is not to bad.


 The next day Dominique and I drove to Douentza, but we didn't arrive there until lunch time.  I didn't want to tackle the gravel in the late afternoon, so I shot  through to Fatima's hand with him.  Was fantastic to see some mountains, and I am glad I did the detour.

The plan was to backtrack early the next morning and start the Timbuktu gravel road as early as possible in the day.  A decision I am very glad I made.  The road was 200km of HELL!!