Hotel L'Auberge Bobo Dioulasso

... Delafosse street life.

One of the waiters came reasonably soon and took our orders. While we waited, every once in a while someone would come and try to peddle something on us – a phone card, a souvenir, a piece of local wood carving, a pair of sun glasses, anything. Naprisca had still enough credit in her mobile phone and at the moment I was not interested in buying anything. So we certainly didn't qualify for the title of best customers around. But I guess they all ...

... sight we were treated to was a few red-clay huts amidst some parched yellow grass, and surprisingly many trees.

And a lot of red, dry, dusty soil.

A few villagers were there, idling by the road and we seemed to be a welcome diversion to all of them. They instantly gathered around us and as soon as they established we were going to visit their village, everyone seemed to be pretty happy. Of course, my cynical self had a strong feeling that the reason to this profound ...

... the street leading south from Marina Market. So I could do it all in a handy and comfortable way, all in one go and in a short time. Much as liked this early walk, I didn’t want to leave Naprisca all by herself for too long back in the hotel.

But it was tempting to stay out. Climate here in Burkina Faso was hot, that was true. After all, wasn’t I in Africa? But it was not humid. On the contrary, it was quite dry. So this morning, while the air ...

... it. I pretended to be indifferent. But I did get upset. I knew that Burkina had used to be a country where the list of things you couldn’t take pictures of had been longer than the list of those you could. But most of those restrictions were lifted now. Every travel guide said so. Now probably only military installations and similar stuff was off bounds. But I didn’t care about military installations much anyway. I was not a war photographer. And taking a harmless picture of ...

... the only one there when we arrived as he is not well enough to work and all the others were in the field toiling away. Eventually, some others joined us, more of Sanga’s Uncles and some children. The first Uncle made and served tea and gave us unroasted peanuts to eat. We did eat the peanuts but just drank our bottled water as the village water and food preparation methods are not as sanitary as our ...

... to go back to Sanga’s wearing their swim suits rather than change.

After a shower to get the grime from the pool off (There is no filter in the pool so the water gets dust in it regularly) we decided to back to the first restaurant we went to in Bobo. Both Sanga and Dave were dreaming of the home made coffee ice cream. Dinner was again excellent. This time the owner gave us free shots of a lemon vodka; it was no where as nice or smoother as the rum from before.

... from the three wive’s quarters. Since Sanga’s dad died, the oldest brother, Moussa, is in charge. He now lives in the dad’s quarters with his family, one wife and five children. In the compound, there is a mausoleum where Sanga’s dad is interred. They want his spirit and body to be close to the family and to the little ones. His spirit still helps the family make good decisions ...

... we were on our way.

After getting gas our first stop was at Bazoule to view the sacred crocodiles. There are said to be over 100 in the lake and we saw quite a few. Ann tried to hold Dave back but he still went and touched one. He said that it was an experience he never had before or though he ever would. The largest crocodile was fed a chicken as a sacrifice from us. At Bazoule they also have a tortoise ...

... that I was completely exhausted after about an hour's sleep on that bus...). I was just not in the mood for being told to come to his shop and drink tea, or go dancing with him, or sit and 'discuter' with him, or any of his other less appropriate requests... perhaps I SHOULD have broken out my high school-acquired explicit French to get rid of him! I refused to tell him which hotel I was in (partly because I KNEW he'd be there in the morning waiting for me to start ...

... and singing) country I understood nothing but enjoyed seeing the locals getting into his music. It was an early night as I didn't feel like heading out for the rest of the night to other places. I was still feeling a little unwell with a tummy bug that most of the group have been suffering with. Unfortunately, when one person gets sick its almost certain that somebody else will get sick not long after. That's life on an overland truck ...