Kayes, Mali, Day 214

Breakfast at 7 am after an unpleasant night under the stars. Take a quick group photo by a nearby Baobab tree, pack up the camp and deal with the bags (boy is this becoming tedious) and we’re on the road by 8 am. The temperature climbs rapidly and no one is happy at the prospect of another hot, smelly day on the truck. Adonis quells any insurrection by stopping at the village of Kayes to allow folks to find cold drinks and air-con.

In temperatures that again sit comfortably above 110^oF, a cold coca cola is about as close to heaven as it’s possible to get. It is a taste orgasm. And what the hell two orgasms are always better than one so I order a second coke and grasp the ice-cold bottle and savor the numbing feeling for a while before downing its contents. Somewhat refreshed, Christi and I then go on to explore the village, which is virtually deserted. Where is everyone? The answer is down by the banks of the Senegal River doing the weekly wash. A concrete platform extending across the river (and beneath a massive bridge) gives ample space for the locals (men, women, and children) to suds up. Radios are blaring and there’s a party atmosphere. Who knew doing the laundry could be so much fun? The locals either use washboards or simply pound their clothes on the concrete and stones. Not only are clothes being washed, but so are the goats. People are literally scrubbing their goats clean and I don’t know why. Is it for some religious ceremony or are the animals to be sold? Life in rural Mali, well away from the admittedly very limited tourist trail, is a mysterious affair. And Christi nearly missed all this. She gives me a withering look, although stops short of jumping in the river to bathe (or pushing me in).

It’s time to leave Mali – truly the gem of West African tourism – for Senegal. Our border crossing is a Diboli/Kidira. There’s nothing ahead of us but more driving to yet another bush camp. It’s another hot, dusty evening and tempers are becoming a little frayed. Remarkably the food continues to be fantastic; the bad news is that I have two cook groups to complete before the end of the trip in 9 days time. (My first cook group should have been during the time I went to Timbuktu). My least favorite aspect of bush camping is using the bathroom. On a Dragoman trip a shovel is placed a discreet distance from the camp and you take it with you to your own favored spot when Nature calls. After burying your nightsoil, replace the shovel in the appropriate spot so the next person can wander the Sahel in search of inspiration. So now you know. And don’t forget the hand sanitizer!