7/8/9 February
Bobo-Dioulasso
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| How do they sell all this stuff? |
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| Bobo's lovely mosque |
Upon advice I’d booked the day before on the TCV bus – and it was a heavenly trip completed in less than 8 hours. Air con, clean, reliable – WOW . Even the frontier formalities were completed tout suite (how good is my french now!!) Now I’m in Bobo-Dilasso, a secondary city of Burkina Faso. With its sandy streets in the town centre and staying out of town a bit at Le Zion in a quiet neighbourhood, it’s a great few days rest up. I’m camping on the ‘terrace, comfy and snug in my little tent again. After a couple of days finding my way around town, and knocking back numerous guides, I enquire about renting a mobylette – think of a lawnmower engine with a seat and 2 wheels. Light and noisy they are ever so popular here. Le Zion has a couple to rent out, and I ask lots of questions about ways out to the places I want to visit. Staff are encouraging (or would that be disbelieving?) Wednesday sees me on a vividly decorated mobylette and immediately after buying the 8% essence the chain comes off. And of course this leaves me open to more advances of guide offers.. I get the chain on, get started again and get lost! All without leaving the neighbourhood I’m staying in! No one will tell me the way to Dafra ¸they'll only offer to accompany and guide me, which means I’ll end up paying double as well as paying Guide fees. I change plans, give up on Dafra (I mean who really wants to see fat chicken eating fish?)and start to head out to a small village, Koro . After negotiating Bobo’s version of the Geelong Freeway and quizzing lots of folk along the way I make it out there. I buy an ‘entrance’ ticket and and am immediately assailed by children who want to walk with me. Why didn’t I realise this really meant guiding me. But still here was a village set amongst huge boulders, with life going on as it had for hundreds of years,,, And as you climb higher amongst the boulders the view across the country side was amazing. Well worth the trip and the following tussle at the botttom of paying small children for walking along with me. Let alone a guardian fee for parking my bike under a tree!! Hmmm I set out back for Bobo, find my way accidently back to the city centre and lunch at eau d’vie – a restaurant run by a french order of nuns – heavenly. I had the best french onion soup and glace. Back out on the bike, I try heading out on one highway but after about 20Kms, I gather I’m on the wrong road. Back to the petrol station to fill up again, and try another road. This time I’m right and get to Koumi eventually. But it’s late afternoon now and most of the men there are tanked on millet beer – what else is there to do there? This village is renowned for its traditional 2 storey mud brick dwellings. I pay my entrance fee but knock back the camera fee and parking fees. Soon enough comes the tussle with locals about being guided. I reassure them that if they can produce an english speaking guide, then I will happily pay up. As they push a few blokes forward with ”he speaks english” the said bloke is pleading with me that “I don’t speak english” All a bit of farce really and soon enough after producing my ticket, I’m left alone to wander a very poor village with plenty of folk about, happy to say hello and chat. Back to town, then on to Le Zion for a relaxed evening knowing that I managed to get out on my own, tackled the traffic etc and lived to tell the tale! Woo Hoo!!
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