Lisa writes: So desperately thirsty – lets hope there’s a village soon. More shitty rocks and tracks – neither of us has much concentration. Countdown to Bafoulabé – 55km. Started marking it down by 10km at a time.

Simon was also worn out by now but he managed to keep going longer than me – thank God! We were both daydreaming of the sea and air-con!

Great! We see a village with a very good pump that had been put in by an aid project in 1996 – the water was good enough to drink direct with no filtering. Drank 3-4 litres each there and then and filled up our water bags. The entire village turned out and so we asked permission to take pictures – the headman was very happy that we liked his pump!

We both feel better now and Simon is more relaxed because we have water and are able to bush camp again if it’s necessary. The track began to get bigger but it still couldn’t be classed as ‘good’ – we had 19km to go. We stopped by the side of a huge flowing river just outside Mahina. Mahina is bigger than we’d expected and very busy. We located an encampment in Bafoulabé – not marvellous but we could put up the tent for 2000 CFA.

Simon writes: By early evening we had arrived in Bafoulabé and having ridden round it twice (it’s not a big place) we located an encampment. Dusty, pretty dirty but cheap. We’re knackered it’ll do. Before long a throng a children had gathered at the entrance to the compound attracted by the bikes and curious to see more. Their curiosity was soon replaced by fear as one of the camp staff flew at them, tree branch in hand for ‘bothering’ the new guests. Quickly catching one of the ‘slower to move’ kids he proceeded to beat him with the stick until finally the poor lad managed to pull himself away a run for cover. The guy walked backed towards us smiling triumphantly. We simply stood dumb struck still dumbfounded at what we’d seen.Although the camping was cheap we had almost no CFA left. We needed to change some dollars, easier said than done, as the only foreign currency worth anything here is Euro. After a little questioning we were introduced to…can’t remember his name. With his help I was directed to a Norwegian Mission only 2 k up the track. With introductions exchanged they happily helped out and soon our dollars had been swapped for CFA. Great, now we could at least buy some food and try to get some petrol. Before long I’d filled up the R1100 brought some bread and water and were back at the Campement, having also bought some beer for our friend who’d directed me to the Norwegian Mission. I was hot, exhausted, thirsty and very hungry…At this point things started to go sour. Our ‘Oh so friendly helper’ wanted paying, but that was no surprise. The fact that he wanted 5,000 CFA and wine for him and his five friends certainly was. Especially after he turned down the cold beer I’d bought for him stating, “it’s not good for me. It will make me fat…you buy me wine…NOW”. This was ‘taking the piss’. Explaining that I’d only changed enough dollars for food and fuel to get us to Bamako and that 5, 000 was too much saw his stance turn more aggressive. Now, normally I’m happy to play things down and diffuse the situation, but not tonight. My patience was running out. I was more than happy to pay him something, but I wasn’t about to be financially screwed just because this guy thought we printed our own money. He was adamant that I pay him and meet his demands. Standing toe to toe and with his hand now shaking mine we were both in striking distance and we both knew it. As calmly and as firmly as I could I told him what I was willing to pay and that the matter would not be discussed further…basically we were just squaring off. This was the first time on the trip that I was ready to punch someone. Having reassessed the situation our protagonist drew back, cursing me and I’m pretty sure my family and anyone I’d ever known, retreating and grumbling about how I wasn’t a gentleman. By now it 10:30pm and my adrenalin was pumping. After a quick conversation Lisa and I both agreed that to stay would be inviting trouble, so packing up the now erected tent and reloading the bikes we rode off to seek the help of the Norwegian Mission. Without hesitation they accepted us and before long the tent was back up and we were being plied with cold filtered water, tea, warm soup, bread, a shower, towels and good company. – Literally what a Godsend!Feeling clean, secure and safe, we slept well.

Lisa writes: We were aiming to leave but after gentle persuasion we decided that we needed more time to recover. We still needed to re-hydrate despite the amount we had drunk yesterday! Simon also has a problem with the bike cutting out and so after a breakfast, supplied by one of the missionaries, the bike was pushed into their fully equipped garage – ideal!

I rinsed our suits – they were so filthy with red dust, sweat and salt…mmm…lovely. We had a lunch of soup and pancakes – bliss. Water ‘on tap’ in the fridge – every one was so kind. Today was also the Missions bible-meeting day where all the other missionaries come and discuss ‘business’ – however – today was a fun meeting for the children and we joined in. Ruben (the son of the mission leader) and Simon juggled fire clubs and Simon relaxed for the first time in a little while. We will leave tomorrow but only have a short day of riding.

With both our helmets now having problems and after a very slow pack-up we finally left the Mission at 2:30 pm having said our grateful goodbyes to everyone we could find. What great people.

We were heading for Manantali, which we hoped to reach in about 2 hours? Riding back into Mahina, we picked up the railway lines, which led us in turn to the only bridge where we could cross the Bafing River. If we meet a train coming we’re screwed so crossing quickly seemed appropriated. Having crossed safely we easily picked up the wide piste to Manantali. However, with huge holes, water drain off trenches and a thick red dust haze hanging in the air concentration was still pushed –ah well…we’d been clean for a little while.

Reaching Manantali we booked into a small encampment (the only one we could find) and found a 15ft by 15ft bare concrete room with no windows but which had power and an electric fan. After wandering over to the main village for riz sauce and a coke, we returned for an evening of diary writing. With the fan on full blast and music from the laptop it had been a good day.

Destination Kita and surprise, surprise, a good tarmac road easing our departure from Manantali and up and over the mountain in front.

For the first 15 Km the road was good but before long dirt patches were appearing more and more frequently! The road continued to alternate between sealed and dirt and we managed to reach Kita with few problems although the condition did deteriorate rather than improve as we’d hoped, the closer we got to Kita.

Kita was our aim for today but as we entered we were disappointed. Just another dusty cluster of run down low mud buildings. We stopped for a quick drink but didn’t fancy the usual baguette and sardines so stayed hungry. We’d try and push on to Bamako. We had so many different estimations given to us as to how long it would take – 3 hours, 5, 2 or 8 – take your pick! With the route described as good, bad, very bad and up and down (whatever that means!) Mmmm…OK that’s much clearer now!

45Km outside Bamako and it was now almost dark and the lights on my bike had stopped working. This wasn’t sensible to continue. It was already dark when we finally found somewhere to pull off and bush camp. This made it difficult to check properly the place we had chosen to pitch tent. Only 30 metres from the wide piste and feeling rather vulnerable, Lisa cooked. A slow process as we turned off the stove and lights with every passing vehicle, for fear of discovery. With the numbers of vehicles finally diminishing and after eating what Lisa described as “one of the most disgusting meals I have ever cooked”, we slept surprisingly well!

An enforced early start as voices pasted close to the tent – they hadn’t seen us – that’s one good thing about our dark green tent.

Riding the last few km (about 15 I think) into Bamako we both kept remembering the ‘Lonely Planet book’ description of the city…that simply stated – “lacks the sophistication of Dakar”. Mmmmmm…Dakar, sophisticated it wasn’t?

Arriving in the city early we commenced battle with the local traffic, human and animal alike. Street upon street of ramshackle huts and market stalls. By mid-day we’d been going round for hours. We were also getting fed up with being surrounded and stared at every time we stopped to check where we were going. This really began to get to us today, normally we don’t mind its just part and parcel of the travelling but today we were hot, tired, knackered and thirsty and didn’t want to be stared at!

With the hotels found, all out of our price range, we set of to locate the old Lebanese Mission for which we already had the GPS coordinates. What a horrible dusty and dirty place. We thought that we might treat ourselves to a room until we saw them, Uughh! Eventually we put the tent up in a dusty small spot in between the stewing piles of traveller’s uncollected rubbish, which by now were rat invested. A walk seemed like a good idea, as we needed to find some air-con or fan-assisted spot –but nothing. (Later on we found a coupe of nice places). We’d had nothing to eat yet today but with a little hunting eventually stopped at a great African café (wooden hut) and had a good local dish, which took ages to arrive but was well worth the wait. By now it was 4:30pm and this was first food of the day. The incredibly hot, muggy and very polluted air of Bamako made it really difficult to get a good nights rest.

Not realising it was the weekend and that the Burkina Faso Embassy was closed, put our plans to get our Visa’s on hold…until Monday at least.

The idea of staying in Bamako over the weekend wasn't a good one.

There are so many market stalls in Bamako – the whole city appears to be made up of them, row upon row but also piled high with rubbish – you get filthy just walking. The heat was getting to Lisa and the need to lie down somewhere cool down was increasing. With the tent like an oven this simply wasn’t possible.

Lisa was suffering from mild heatstroke. She simply couldn’t cool down. The waves of nausea were increasing. Her slurred speech and pale sheen were worrying. Hunting out air-conditioned public facilities and fan-assisted places became the norm’.

Valentines day required a little celebration and the American run Tex-Mex restaurant 3 blocks from the mission was just the ticket. What a great place. An Island of Americana in a sea of strange cultures. A very welcome tonic. To our own surprise, we were really in need of a Western culture injection!

With Zane and Vinka (a great couple returning from Ghana back to the UK in their Land Cruiser) for company we enjoyed good food. The heat, and stress of Bamako could be forgotten for a while at least.

Things Lisa didn’t improve the next day as the stifling heat soared. Her only reprieve was lying in the tent and placing her water soaked silk liner over her in order to try to cool down. This helped a little. The very bad backache she’d been complaining about was in fact kidney ache!

Monday arrived slowly and we set off to find the Burkina Faso Embassy. With the formalities of our application easily completed we set of to explore the city South of the river and over the bridge. We didn’t get far, but instead waited the two-hour processing time in a wonderful patisserie offering everything from a huge selection of cakes to good and cheap menu choices. The Burkina Faso visa is very easy to get – 13,200 CFA for 3 months and given within 2 hours. (BTW – the Burkina Faso Embassy has just moved and thanks to Vinka and Zane for this new information. The new GPS co-ordinates are: …… N12 37.861 W8 00.912)

Lisa writes: Needed some work done on the bikes so the following day Simon went off in hunt of bits and bobs. Both my wing mirrors needed mending and Simons lights also. So, today was job day. Simon was washing everything in sight as things were filthy – I could do ‘little jobs’ but then had to stop and rest (don’t I sound like the old lady – but it was just the intense heat). The suits, which had already been rinsed, were washed and the water was thick brown soup. Our bags, water bags, tank bags etc. all the same! Back to the Tex-Mex as still needed a reprieve from West Africa. This sounds terrible but I think you have to now and again get a little of your own culture in order to be able to continue on a trip like this. The next day we really wanted to leave but still had things to do – plus Gary (Auzzie biker we met at Bonaba Café Lac Rose, Dakar) turned up at the site with his friend Tyler (American ex Marine exceptionally well-travelled). So back to the Tex-Mex where we had a fun evening. Its nice to be able to talk English (even though they don’t speak ‘real’ English – only joking guys!)

Funny thing – Simon’s bike just fell over and floored mine! Mmmmm – strange! Simon always checks that his bike is leant over enough when on side stand…it’s a big heavy bike. However, we think that someone had sat on it and moved it slightly (it can be moved even when chained unless its chained very tightly to mine). – so we are both really annoyed now as my pannier is bent (despite all the falls, drops etc I’ve had, I had not bent a pannier!) and Simons handle bars are broken. He now needs to get it welded. The guys who did my hinged wing mirrors (great job) did this. Big job – full removal of handlebars and all switch gear.So, now we can leave – hurrah!

The site is so expensive for the shit-hole it is – 2,5000 CFA each. You can tell I don’t like it. Tyler and Gary are also leaving tomorrow. Its been nice to have some ‘fellow bikers’ whose views and outlook on the roads, conditions etc is very different to those of 4x4s etc. Its good to talk to others who have experienced the same as us.

Lisa writes: Eventually managed to leave Bamako today and headed towards San. Unable to decide if we should go to Djenne and Mopti – we know we should but don’t know if we’ve got the stamina. Simon and I are in dire need of a ‘holiday’. Some of you reading this may find this strange and think ‘bloody hell, they’re on a continuous holiday!’ but the last few weeks have been tough. In fact despite that we had a break at Lac Rose we were both ill there. It’s not just the road conditions but also the shear lack of decent sleep and lack of enough fluids for a length of time.

Simon is also now really ‘flagging’ – he is always working or checking something on the bikes and organising repair jobs and this takes a lot of time and energy – especially when you are having to deal with the locals in a different language. He has actually said he just wants to get to Ghana and have a beach holiday and lie down for a week and eat fruit! Those of you that know Simon will now that this is not normal!

Advice: It sounds like recently we have been constantly ‘moaning’ about how hard it is – but we do want others to realise that this is not a holiday and that if you are thinking about doing this type of trip you need to be aware of the ups and downs. There will be exceptionally tough times and you will take out your tiredness and frustrations on your travelling companion(s). But as long as you are prepared for this and the need to have an injection of your own culture now and again you should have no problems in continuing.

Simon Writes: The road to Ségou and then San was a good, sealed road. For the first time in a while we could really clear the bikes throat and opening up the throttles the bike roared again, both much happier for the quality fuel we’d managed to pick up this morning. It felt great to be moving at speed again.

San is a little unremarkable and interestingly both Lisa and felt there was an ‘atmosphere’ about the place. Locating the only encampment and being the only guest also didn’t feel right. The initial excited and friendly manner of the camp manager were all too quickly replaced with grunts of displeasure and menacing scowl when after we looked at the rooms (we couldn’t pitch our tent) we decided to move on. So, we made our excuses and left. The ‘verbal’ abuse that rang in our ears as we left simply confirmed we’d made the right decision. A short ride out of town we spotted a kitted out Landy in the yard belonging to a World Vision project. So after pulling in and parking up and a brief discussion and a little grovelling we were offered a room for the night. For 2,500 CFA each with mozzie net and clean shower it was a good choice (the GPS co-ords are N13 16.693 W4 53.386) . The Landy belongs to a great Swiss couple that sponsor a child through the World Vision project. When we turned up they offered us a pasta meal and a good espresso!

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