What happens when a 4WD is driven by a Malian?

Some very sore heads, that's what happens. We started out with a couple of 4WDs. Our Mission: Make Timbuktu before the day ends. The road to Timbuktu was long and badly in need of a grading. But I was surprised to hear that it was in pretty good nick for this time of year, and that in the wet season it is an absolute nightmare. Scary. It was OK for a while........ until someone passed us. Then all hell broke loose. Our driver was NOT to be passed, under any circumstances! He made sure he got back past, and to him there was nothing else. Tash hit the roof so hard that it brought tears to her eyes. But we got there eventually........... butt sore and dusty as hell.

When we got to Timbuktu, I was hoping for something of a mystical place. The sort of place that the name conjures up in the mind. The reality is unfortunately quite different. I think I can be safe in the assertion that.... ITS A HOLE! Its dirty and ugly and our walking tour was something of a disaster. We were followed incessantly by toutes, taken to the wrong restaurant, wrong museum, wrong t-shirt guy, wrong everything by the kickback taking guide. Couldn't wait to get out of there.

Time to move on!!

A city name for the ages

After what was reportedly the fastest border crossing into Burkina Faso ever (its amazing what guys will do when its 15 minutes before break time) we headed to the capital city. What a great name! Ouagadougou (wagadoogoo). Just rolls off the tongue don`t you think? After being in the truck and bush camping for about a week, the beautiful pool and air conditioned bar were places to haunt at our rather plush camp site (attached to a hotel). After a couple of days of rest, recuperation, swimming and beer, we set off again for Mali and the next major stop - The Dogon Trek.

The Dogon people are an indigenous tribe who live at the base and on the top of an escarpment on the edge of the Sahara 200km long. They have a fascinating culture that includes amazing dances (if we tried what they can do, major doctors bills) with costumes and ornately carved wooden masks. Wooden carved doors and locks. After being sat in the truck for a while, it was good to stretch the legs again. The escarpment itself is beautifully picturesque. Unfortunately the Sahara is beginning to encroach on their land and the Hamattan, the wind that blows from the desert, produces a haze of dust. We slept out under the stars and drank river cooled beer and soft drinks. It was great to be out and walking again.

We all headed back to the truck (with some of our companions struggling a touch) to camp again on the hostel roof and rest some tired legs. Soon we head off to Timbuktu.

Accra, Ghana and a Truck called Madge

As we are major fans of red eye flights (no really), we arrived into Accra at 3:30am with a pickup arranged. But due to a miss-communication (I communicated-they missed) we were left stranded. It always amazes me how many helpful people there are at airports, ready to be your friend. A couple of guys were very keen for me to use their mobile phone (I want to help you!). After being advised by airport staff it was too dangerous to leave the airport in the dark we decided to go back inside and wait till light and get some much needed sleep. After some Tash heroics (I was utterly useless) we eventually got to our hostel.

Ghana is a very hot and muggy place that was quite a culture shock for me. Dusty dirt lined streets, people and cars heaving through the streets, getting hassled to buy or give. But the smiles are huge and the welcomes warm and friendly. The kids are great too. We met up with our truck group and met Madge. Madge is a Mercedes Benz truck (it gets shirty if called anything other than truck apparently) with a passenger cab on the back. Its quite comfortable, with everything unpacking out of compartments in the body.

Upon leaving Accra, our first stop was lake Botsamtwi which was caused by the striking of an asteroid. Beautiful camping spot. From there we rumbled up to Ghana's second largest city of Kumasi, where we checked out a huge busling market, and spent the night in a Presbetyrian church guesthouse under massive lightning strewn storm clouds.

We were heading for Burkina Faso, and spent the next night bush camping under the stars at a place called Fuller Falls. A nice little place. As Ghana is a God fearing nation, on the path down to the waterfall there were constant signs asking us if we were going to up (heaven) or down (hell); and were we really sure? Near the border I spotted some grey shapes moving to the side of the road: A massive herd of elephants! My first time seeing them in the wild. Next stop Burkina Faso

Essouira, coastal Maroc

We spent our last few days in Morrocco in the lovely coastal town Essaioura (that's essa-weera to you and me) . Not alot to do in this little town, but's its great place for a relaxing wander - alot more chilled than Marrakech. We visted the spice markets, got a henna tattoo and ate local fish. We also figured we couldn't leave Morocco without experiencing a traditional hammam. A little man turned up at our hostel and weaved us through the back passages of Essaioura until he pointed at one door for Greg and another door for me (aka ladies and gents). I wondered into a small dark room full of local women. A semi-naked women looked at me and indicated for me to take my clothes off (i'd already received strict instructions to keep my knickers on!) and then she escorted me into another room full of mostly naked women scrubbing each other down and dousing each other with hot water - welcome to a hamman! While the experience is slighlty different for men and women, the semi-naked and scrubbing bit is there (you should see the dead skin come off YUK). All in all a great experience, we came out clean and relaxed.

Now we head to our truck trip from Accra, Ghana. Where a very different Africa awaits us.

Tiznit, Tafroute and a very interesting man

We got a public bus to Tiznit from Marrakech and then took a grand taxi to Tafroute, a small town in southern Morocco. A grand taxi is an old Mercedes which goes to a certain place, and leaves when crammed full of 6 people, plus driver. Its a quick service but can take hours waiting for a full taxi. We were very proud that we worked it all out, but when we arrived there were about 100 campervans parked outside town! Our way was way more fun. Tafroute seems a popular place for grey French nomads.

Tafroute is at the head of the pretty Ameln Valley, which we wanted to walk through, so we set about finding a tour to take. It was here we met an interesting man. His name was Ahmed and he ran what looked like a very respectable guide/tour service. After some haggling and some good natured banter we decided on a tour of 2 days 1 night, staying with a family and with an english speaking guide.

The next day, ready to start the tour, we met Worrel and Gretha (not their real names - to protect their reputations, and our blatent inability with pronunciation, I hope they don't mind). As we began walking out of town, hopeful at leaving the Camper sea and satellite dish waves behind, cracks began to emerge in the tour experience. Our guide was fluent in French, which was Ok with some hand gestures and translation by our walking mates. The walking was ok but you really thought that we were walking along roads a little too much. We saw a rock formation which looks like the face of a lion, the locals say it keeps a protective eye looking out for the local women. That night we stayed in a big room, with freezing cold water to wash with, but our tagine meal cooked by the guide was brilliant and we had much fun just talking and joking.

The views in the morning were wonderful and the valley has a its reputation for good reason. Just after good lunch in town we again met our friend Ahmed (who hung around a lot and generally made a nuisance of himself) and told him we weren't happy and wanted a cheaper price. Unhappy was an understatement, he acted in a very childish way. We got a lower price, but that dummy of his was dusty from where it hit the ground.

The last part of the tour took us to a series of nice gorges, where we relaxed before heading towards a transport hub called Inezgane for dinner and sleep. We were grateful to have shared the experience with Worrel and Gretha as they made the experience a lot better.

ROAD TRIP!!!!!

Mustapha from our hostel told us of a tour that would take us to the mountains and the desert. 'A most wonderful experience, the sky in the sharan night is most wonderful' We were sold, and so joined the road trip tour that was to be defined by the music we endured in the hours of bus riding. From Marrakech we went to (insert Brian Adams here) Ait Ben Haddou. This old settlement has been used as a set of famous movies, the most famous being Gladiator (insert Mariah Carey here). Recent snow on the surrounding mountains was flowing down the river bed and so the enterprising locals were (over) charging for donkey rides across the muddy waters. (insert Hotel California here).

Later that day we made it to the beautiful Dades Gorge (insert Celine Dion here), where we spent the night. In the Morning (insert Richard Marks here) we explored the Todra Gorge. From here it was onto the Sahara (insert We Are The World, yes We Are The World here) Where we were to spend a night in the Erg Chabbi. But not before a 1.5 hour camel ride across the sand. With my ridiculous head scarf in place we began a lovely to look at, but butt and thigh tearing, trip. Tash couldn't get comfortable and I had the smallest and most nervous camel that jumped around alot. But that night the locals played drums and sang, we celebrated a 30th birthday in our party, and we ate well and had a great night.

Unfortunately one of our fellow countrywomen has let us down. Youcef, our tour guide, was absolutely great. Funny, full of information and very helpful. But a story he told us made Tash and I cringe. An Australian girl on a tour before us called our tour leader UNICEF, and didn't realise it, then went on to say that she needed to go to the Hamas. What she meant was the Hammam, which is a traditional Moroccan bath house, not Palestine.

Marrakech, Morocco - The capital of lost tourists

We decided to get picked up at the Airport and taken to our hostel located in the souks of Marrakech. It was one of the better decisions we've made, as it is absolutely impossible to find your way around without getting lost. There are no landmarks you can see and when asking people for help, as we did on our first day, you can end up at the tanneries near the edge of town instead of in the main square, like we did. But that's Morocco for you.

Marrakech is a wonderful place. We both really enjoyed ourselves and have extensive plans and shopping lists for our return visit. The old walled Medina joins onto the main square Djema El Fna. The main square is a really busy, loud, buzzing place that picks up during the evenings when snake charmers, story tellers, musicians, smoking food stalls, date sellers, orange juice merchants and henna artists take over. People everywhere. You can even play a game of hook the ring over the bottle of coke. Why? I cannot answer that one.Getting lost in the souqs (markets) of the Medina with their labrynthian roads and alleys is a great way to see things we wouldn't normally get to see. At point we went in complete circle and didn't realise it! There are souqs dedicated to leather, spices, cloth etc... Its really good fun to just wander through getting a feel for the place, just be ready for some attention if you even hint at looking interested at something.