Burkina Faso, Day 198

Since our tour group is such an experienced and mature bunch of travellers we are always ahead of schedule. This morning is no exception as we’re on the road and heading for Burkina Faso by 7:45am after a quiet night bush camping. As far as I can tell no one was pulled from their tent kicking and screaming by either bandits or wild animals last night. Consequently we’re all feeling rather proud of ourselves; we’re now hardened campers (albeit a bit smelly and in need of a shower!).

Negotiating the Burkina Faso border is refreshingly easy and thanks to Adonis we don’t even have to leave the bus. Instead, the Burkina Faso immigration officials come to us. I could get used to this! Several things change as we leave Ghana and enter BK. First the language switched from English to French and we hear phrases like ‘Bonjour’ and ‘Comment ca va?’ The currency has also changed. Instead of the Ghanaian Cedi it is now the West African CFA franc (or Communauté Financière Africaine [“African Financial Community”]), the euro of West Africa. The CFA is used by all the remaining countries we shall visit on this Dragoman tour (Burkina Faso, Mali, and Senegal). And amazingly enough my debit card works in the ATM machines. Unfortunately, I get rather carried away and withdraw CFA400,000 which I belatedly realize is US$800. I could probably buy Burkina Faso for that amount of money, but I certainly don’t want to be stuck with thousands of virtually worthless CFA francs when I leave West Africa. I beg Adonis to buy some CFA francs in exchange for euros – and he does. He’s s such a nice chap and personally I hope he’s having a wild time with Aphrodite.

We stop for lunch somewhere over the border in Burkina Faso. We think we’ve chosen an isolated spot, but that couldn’t be further from the truth and we’re suddenly surrounded by dozens of curious onlookers that appear literally out of the bush. We have French speakers aboard the truck and one of them Louise (of Thelma and Louise fame) tries a few phrases, but the people who live in this remote community do not understand. I’m sure these people have seen white folks before, but nothing quite like a Dragoman truck descending upon them. We do not see hunger in their eyes, merely curiosity. As usual the camera is a great way to connect and there are soon smiles all around. As we pack up and leave we give the curious and friendly onlookers all the food we can spare. They appear appreciative and then disappear back into the bush.

Our destination for the day is the second city of Burkina Faso, Bobo-Dioulasso. Personally, I cannot think of a more wonderful name for a town. I would be proud to say I’m from Bobo-Dioulasso. Could there possibly be a more charismatic name in the whole world? The only name that comes close also happens to be in Burkina Faso and that is the capital, Ouagadougou. Clearly the locals put a lot of thought into their place names.

We reach Bobo-Dioulasso by mid-afternoon and Adonis, my hero, upgrades our accommodation from camping in the suburbs to a hotel in the center of town (he’s dipping into the kitty again, but who cares!). Our room at the hotel L’Entente is rather basic: shower and fan, but no wash basin (at all) and a shared toilet. Christi and I luxuriate in the shower (which has seen better [read cleaner]) days and then prostrate our glistening bodies beneath the fan in our room. Sheer bliss.