Travel Archives - Page 28 of 47

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

Arrival in Yogyakarta

I arrived in Yogyakarta from Jakarta by plane. A train is possible, but i am somewhat short on time. The taxi from the airport revealed a bigger city than i was expecting but with the usual billboards and shops. They really do have all the worst stuff from the United States here, however, i suppose if you happen to be in Indonesia and have a hankering for KFC with cheese dipping sauce, a cronut, or a hot dog from the Circle K, you’re in luck. My favourite of the ads i saw on that drive was a billboard advertising a children’s Halloween party which promised “magic show” “games” and…”baby shark dance”. Huh? I have not been able to stop thinking about what a baby shark dance entails and every possibility is unsettling.

Anyway, i’m staying at the Malam 1001 Hotel (1001 nights) on a narrow alley near the end of Malioboro Street (a main thoroughfare of shops, food vendors, ojek [moto rickshaw], and bekak [bicycle rickshaw] drivers). My hotel has a nice leafy courtyard and i have a private room, so i’m quite comfortable though i haven’t seen another guest.

The first day i just had the afternoon and the main sites in town were closed early so i just went for a walk to get my bearings.

The area around my hotel has lots of restaurants and tour operators, gift shops and more batik shops than any any country could possibly support. Seriously, who is buying all this batik clothing and fabric? I don’t see people wearing it and i can’t imagine every tourist stocking up on enough batik tunics and dress shirts to keep these places in business. Plus, as far as i can tell, most of it isn’t real batik anyway…fauxtik. (That term should totally catch on.) the good news is i haven’t seen anything i would like to buy.

I walked, politely declining offers of rickshaw rides and thanking people for compliments on my tattoos, eyeing the street side food stalls and trying to determine if there is any vegetarian food.

I sat under a tree and watched people setting up for a carnival/night market which is to open later in the week. Chatted with a taxi driver. Smoked cigarillos.

Walked back to the hotel, stopped to check out a supermarket called “Hero” (Super Hero Market?). I’m always fascinated by foreign supermarkets and have been ever since i saw a box of Rice Krispies in a market in Israel on which Snap, Crackle, and Pop were muscular superheroes…though i have come to question that memory over time. Bought a fresh guava juice and gawked at people lined up for a block for a coffee/doughnut/burger joint.

Also, i checked out some of the street art in the narrow streets around my hotel, which ranged from cute to political, and watched children playing with chickens.

There seems to be quite a lot of public art here. Much of it i spotted from the taxi on the ride from the airport but happened on a few statues as i walked around.

Dinner of super spicy green beans with rice at a pleasant restaurant. $3.00 cdn including iced tea. A cigar in the courtyard. Bed. A fairly uneventful day, but a perfectly pleasant one. Plus i had a 4am pick up scheduled for the next morning for one of the highlights of the trip…Borobudur. (Separate post.)

Asia Indonesia Indonesia Trip 2017

Jakarta

Indonesia.

I arrived in Jakarta from Taipei. A 5ish hour flight. Hit with heat and humidity. Glorious. Caught a taxi to Kota aka Old Batavia aka the old city. It seemed like the most interesting area, with now shabby colonial architecture, canals, and a big square. The city is large and populous; 10+ million people. I am only here for a day and a half and i didn’t have any particular sites or activities in mind. Much of what i read about Jakarta said “skip it”, but how could i? I’m glad i didn’t.

My driver got lost trying to find my hostel which i didn’t mind; it was like a little tour through twisty streets navigating the mad traffic with horn honking and the Imam’s call to prayer as the backdrop.

My hostel is the Wonderloft. A nice hostel. Great location for the area. I booked a private room which was about $18cdn per night but they have capsule style dorms for much less. It is clean and has good hostel amenities: pool table, foosball table, kitchen, and tv. Plus, it has a floor containing only beanbag chairs where silence is mandatory.

It is on a crazy busy side street with no lights or cross walk so every time i come or go i have to step out boldly and let the cars, motorcycles and tuk tuks swirl past me. Each time it feels like a conquest.

The people staying at the hostel Wonderloft are a good mix of travellers form SE Asia, Australia, and Europe. Young. Wearing the Asian backpacker uniform of baggy elephant pants and flip flops.

By the time i checked in to my hostel it was about 3 pm, so i just walked around to get my bearings. Around the corner from my hostel is a busy pedestrian street with cafes, buskers, jewelry makers, palm readers, and people in elaborate costumes posing for photos.

The street led to the square which was positively teeming with people. Sitting on the ground, eating and drinking, walking, and riding neon colored bicycles while wearing fancy hats that matched the bicycles. I thought there must be a festival, but have since found out it was just the weekend. It was great. I walked and had dinner on the square (vegetarian food is available but not in abundance). And i smoked a cigar on a patio.

With few exceptions the people i saw were locals. Women mostly dressed in colorful scarves and modest dress. Men dressed in jeans and t-shirts, smoking.

It was very pleasant and i stayed up too late. My sleep is a bit screwed up and i haven’t had enough of it. 3 hours last night. About the same the night before.

This morning, up early, i put on my other outfit (i have 2). I felt fresh and clean. Had some terrible instant coffee (seriously, the island is called Java, you would think they could do better) and toast with peanut butter and nutella. Heading out, i discovered i had peanut butter on my dress. Sigh. So much for being clean.

I spent the day wandering around the north of the city. Pretty white colonial buildings aside, the streets are shabby in a good way. Busy traffic, lots of shops, street vendors, tea houses, and markets. The canals are murky, smelly things but they add character. There are a surprising number of shops selling Christmas trees and decorations for what otherwise appears to be a Muslim city.

I had a coffee – a great one – from this terrific cafe which had a open lofty seating ares surrounded by trees. It felt like a treehouse. Enjoyed a cigar.

I then walked down to the Glodok neighbourhood, which is the traditional Chinese area where they had a great network of market streets selling produce, household items, herbal medicines, meat and fish.

Dinner of gado gado on a patio. Currently having a cigar and fresh soup sop juice inside at the elegant Cafe Batavia listening to live music (they just played a super funkified version of “My Way”) and smoking a cigar. That’s right…i can smoke inside! Heaven.

Asia Indonesia Trip 2017 Taiwan

Today: Taipei

Heading to Indonesia i decided to fly through somewhere i hadn’t been before and Taipei seemed like a good choice. It’s not a place i had ever thought about going and it didn’t look like a place i would want to spend a whole vacation, but a few days seemed perfect.

I arrived at about 5am after a 13 hour flight. Immigration, express train into the city, a quick map study, and 5 mins later i was at my hostel. The Bouti Capsule City Inn. I don’t usually do dorm rooms anymore but this one was so appealing and the price was right so i gave it a go. The beds are little cubbyholes stacked 2 high with a curtain at the end. When you close it, you have complete privacy. The cubby has lights, power, and is tall enough to sit up in. It suited me just fine. The place had facilities and common areas. I am looking forward to staying there again when I return.

At this end of the trip i was staying for only 1 day and 1 night, so i didn’t have time to waste. I set off at 7am or so, walking. At that time of the morning the city was pretty quiet. Nothing open or going on, but the temples were busy. I visited many that day, but particularly enjoyed the ones in the morning with people praying on their way to work and no other tourists. Late in the day they became tainted by selfie sticks and tours of people in matching shirts. But at 7am i was the only presence which sullied the otherwise peaceful vibes, surreptitiously snapping pictures and observing people in their chanting and incense burning.

The streets started to awaken and then everything became more interesting, but i have to say, based on my one day, Taipei is fine, but not fascinating or exciting to me. Many parts were just like any other fancy big city. Pretty clean and orderly with tidy shops and bike lanes, and traffic that functions familiarly.

Other parts were a bit more ramshackle, but not as interesting or bustle-y as, say, Saigon or Phnom Penh. Also, there are a lot of American chains, which is always a bit of a downer. But the strolling was pleasant. There were so many appealing looking eateries, inside and street side. The problem was the food was either soup or dumplings – both dangerous gambles when you are a vegetarian like me (who did not bother to learn any useful food-related phrases in Mandarin), so i just walked on until i finally broke down and got a rice triangle with mushrooms fro the 7-11. (7-11s in Asia do have remarkable selections of food at very cheap prices).

One thing i noticed was that every conceivable type of product and service will frequently be advertised with cute little Hello Kitty-esque characters. Transport, pharmacies, food items… you name it and there would be candy colored big eyed cartoons staring up at you. I love that stuff and started snapping pictures of some of the characters before i got overwhelmed. Adorable.

I walked through a lively pedestrian shopping area but was exhausted from jet lag ad general lack of sleep. And that’s when i saw a movie theatre with an ad for an American horror movie starting right that minute. It was just the respite i needed. An hour and a half later i emerged reinvigorated.

I took the metro, which is extremely convenient to the Chiang Kai Shek memorial, which was a grand square flanked by 4 impressive structures. There wasn’t much to see, aside from a large statue of the man himself, but it made for some nice pictures.

From there i wandered through a market area – fish, meat, clothes, and soup stalls mostly. Past more temples and then caught the metro up to very fancy shopping district, not for shopping, but to look for a cigar lounge i had read about.

The weather in Taipei was really nice for walking around; cool but warm enough that i didn’t need my hoodie. It was cloudy but did not rain. It would have been fine to sit outside and have a cigar but i didn’t really see any patio type cafes or eateries, but a posh indoor cigar bar sounded great. And it was for the most part. A lovely room, fine leather chairs, a great selection of cubans, and drinks (i has espresso). The downsides? It was quiet. Two guys smoking solo. It was expensive, so i had only one cigar. And the music was this awful, folky stuff that was just so dull. But i had an Asian limited edition Punch torpedo and was quite relaxed.

As i left the cigar lounge i found myself walking by the Taipei 101 tower, once one of the world’s tallest. It is possible to go to the top for the view but on such an overcast day it seemed like a pointless endeavour.

I took the metro and then meandered up the Museum of Contemporary Art. Small but good. It had lot of films and multimedia at the time and some films were truly weird and arty, i just sat on the floor and got lost in them.

Oh, and there was at least one large penis mosaic.

In the evening i just walked the streets around my hostel, which were positively bustling with shoppers and soup and dumpling vendors. I found a street side steamed bun vendor who had a vegetarian option. Success!

I went to bed very early.

All in all a great day. I feel like i saw a lot of the city and got a flavour for it. I will return in about 2 weeks’ time for 2 more days (which i feel like might be a day more than necessary, but there is more i want to see).

Currently on a morning flight for Jakarta. I feel like this post has been boring, but i just didn’t have any misadventures or interesting conversations, and while i had a good time, i wasn’t captivated. Well, we’ll see what’s next.

Belgium Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe

In Bruges and Back to Brussels

My trip to Burkina Faso is ending the way it began: in Belgium. I returned yesterday quite late after my day layover in Istanbul. I was knackered, but i couldn’t resist taking a stroll around the square and surrounding streets, which had been decorated for Christmas since i was here two weeks ago.

It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: Belgium is a world away from Ouagadougou. Sidewalks, trash bins, tap water, frigid and clean air, cafes that look like cafes, people that don’t pay a bit of attention to me. I love the noise and excitement of Burkina Faso, but right now i am really appreciating the more familiar environment of western Europe, partly because i got to have a very long, very hot shower.

This morning i woke up very early and caught a train to Bruges. An hour and a half past quaint rural areas and small towns. From the station in Bruges it is a short walk to the Market Square. The square is beautiful, like so many European squares, ringed with narrow, pointy buildings in bright colours, housing inviting eateries and tea houses, imposing and intricate state buildings and throngs of picture snapping visitors.

But this was a but different because the square was filled with a Christmas market. An ice rink, decorations, and wooden booths hung with icicle lights selling food and knick knacks.

I wandered around the area, and over to the equally beautiful Berg square where i visited a beautiful and thankfully warm church.

I then followed the canals, stopping for breakfast at the most charming tiny cafe, all aglow in candles and Christmas.

I walked around aimlessly down the picturesque cobbled streets, stopping to take a million pictures. Locals walked dogs and rode bicycles. Tourists consulted maps and gazed upward.

I visited the estate housing the small but very pretty Jerusalem church, where the ticket seller thought i was under 26 and tried to sell me a discounted ticket. (I think it was the hat.)

In the church was a tiny little room with candles and relics where people had placed pictures of people for whom they prayed, i assume. I don’t pray of course, but i happened to have a tiny picture of me in my wallet (i take one when i travel because sometimes you need them for getting visas at the border). I placed it there amongst the others, singeing the corners to make it look old and worn. So if you visit that church you might see my face looking pious and prayed for.
I stopped in at an inviting looking tavern for a bowl of turnip soup and discovered that it is apparently the oldest tavern in the world, being over 500 years old. It was charming and the soup exactly what i needed.

Another square had more booths and decorations and the most amazing carousel i have ever seen – sort of a steam punk miracle of creatures/machine hybrids flying and crawling as it whirled. Unfairly, it was limited to kids 12 and under.

I walked and sipped hot chocolate until i could no longer tolerate the crowds.

I leave for Vancouver, via London, tomorrow afternoon; sad because i wish i could stay in Europe or take off somewhere exotic. Instead i will head home to email, work, and plans for the next trip.

Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe Turkey

13 hours in Istanbul

I said good bye to Burkina Faso and flew to Istanbul, arriving at about 7:00 am and having a 13 hour layover. This was perfect. I love Istanbul, but had not been there since my 2009 Turkey trip. I paid for a visa and passed swiftly through immigration. Then i was on the Metro. I switched to the tram and about an hour and a half after landing i was in Sultanahmet, gazing on the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sophia.

The city looked in many ways as i remembered, and the basic layout was easy to navigate. I wandered around and found myself on a street that looked like a cleaned up version of the street on which i spent every evening seven years ago, smoking shisha. There were lots of restaurants and i seated myself at the one which most appealed. During my breakfast, chatting with the waiter, i learned that this was the street i remembered, and that it had just gotten fancier. I remembered that there is a picture of me on the blog from my last trip to Istanbul, standing with a hookah in front of my regular joint. I pulled it up and the waiter called the owner over and it was the same place. It had changed a bit, but was basically the same and i had gravitated to it without knowing. This earned me free coffee in exchange for the promise to return again someday.

Istanbul is definitely cleaner and more organized that i remember. Better street signs and more tourist infrastructure. More international shops. These things detract a bit from the atmosphere, but it is still a great city. I love walking the streets past all of the super appealing shops selling scarves, lanterns, hookahs, and pottery. I love the cafes and the ubiquitous cats. And the exquisite calls to prayer that echo out over the city.

It was chilly, especially compared to Burkina Faso, but the cool air felt so refreshing.

I got lured into a lengthy Turkish coffee session with a carpet seller, which was pleasant and i managed to walk carpet-less, which is a small victory.

I then headed for the Grand Bazaar, where i became wonderfully lost amongst the stalls of crafts, handiwork, spices, and sweets. I then had mint tea with a seller of meerschaum pipes. I did not leave empty handed this time.

I finished the day off down my the Blue Mosque again, with a hookah of double apple shisha and just relaxed until i felt it was time to return to the airport.

A delightful day. I hope it is not another seven years before i return.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

The Bazoule Crocodiles

After i returned to Ouagadougou from Pô i had two full days left and little on my agenda of things to see and do, having already wandered around downtown on my previous visit, so i committed to doing some serious relaxing at the guesthouse, which has been lovely. But i did take in a couple of worthwhile things.

On my first day back i hired a taxi to take me to Bazoule, which is about 30 km outside of Ouagadougou and is notable for its small lake teeming with sacred crocodiles. I can’t really comment on their sacred nature, but only on their abundance and fondness for poultry.

We arrived after a pleasant drive through the city and then the countryside. I paid a small admission fee and a bit extra for an ill-fated, live chicken. A man walked me to the lake and sure enough, crocodiles could be seen in the water. We walked to the shore and my guide waved the chicken in the air, causing it to cluck in what i can only assume was fear and some crocodiles came out of the water. (Yes, i felt like kind of a dick for putting the chicken through this turmoil, but i don’t think too many chickens here live long and happy lives anyway, their destinies being sacrifice or supper.)

The guide was not satisfied with these crocs, however, saying they were too small, so we went in search of larger ones. We continued walking and i discovered that there are people living in huts around the lake, notwithstanding that visitors attend there for crocodile viewing.

We wandered off to some greener area where there were bits of water here and there and again the guide called for the crocodiles. This was more unsettling as the crocodiles could have appeared from anywhere around us, but none did.

We walked to the other side of the lake where some men were farming and we summoned a large crocodile from the water. It came on shore and sat there. My guide asked if i would like to touch the crocodile. I nervously asked if it was safe and he said casually, “it is no problem.” Well, good enough then. If the man in flip flops carrying a small wooden stick says it is fine, then it must be. And so i stood astride the crocodile and then nearly sat on it, slightly afraid that it would turn on me. But it did not. As i posed though, another crocodile came out of the water behind me, causing me to leap up and seek safety a few meters away.

I then took the chicken by its feet and tossed it to the large crocodile, who deftly caught it in its jaws and gulped it down whole with a few chews and a swallow. Brutal stuff but quite interesting.

Having conquered the crocodiles, i headed back to the city, stopping for celebratory ice cream (“Americain flavour” aka cookies and cream) en route.

Last night was spent at the guesthouse with a cigar and dinner while enjoying a whole conversation in English with a new guest who had arrived from Ireland.

Today has been similarly leisurely, sans les crocodiles. After breakfast i decided to walk to the Village Artisanal for a bit of shopping. It was a long walk in traffic in the oppressive heat (made longer by my having set off confidently, but in the wrong direction), but the space was lovely. A series of open air shops selling art, textiles, and various crafts, with the people making them often right there. I picked up a few gifts, had a coffee in the shady courtyard, and returned to the guesthouse.

And here i now sit. Hours until my flight to Istanbul and no plans except staying cool and relaxing. My time in Burkina Faso has been perfect. I have enjoyed it and am ready to head off for a couple more stops on the way home.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Tiébélé: the painted village

I awoke in Pô rested and ready for my reason for being there: to visit Tiébélé. I went out for breakfast: Nescafe, yogurt, and bread, which cost about a dollar. I then met my driver at the hotel, a young guy named Patrice, who spoke no English and wore a knitted scarf in the 40 degree heat. He had a motorbike (and as usual helmets are not available) and we set off. We bounced down the dry and dusty orange streets headed south to Tiébélé past donkey carts, kids headed to school, and women washing clothes with washboards and buckets.

After about 15 minutes we spotted one of the common police checkpoints. Patrice said (in French) “Policeman. It is a problem for me.” And we turned around to take a detour. This is one of those times when my rudimentary French was not enough to clarify the situation. Why were the police a problem? Did he not have ID? Was the moto not registered? Was he wanted for murder? I would never know and simply said “ok”.

Our detour was pleasant, past little villages and large baobab trees, many of which were hung with ropes of sorghum to dry.

We stopped at a little lake and looked at the fields of potatoes, tomatoes, and peppers growing in tidy green rows.

After an hour maybe we arrived in the town of Tiébélé, which is small but had a few shops and cafes. There was a small hut with art and the painter showed me his work, which included pictures of Tiébélé, Che Guevara, and Thomas Sankara.

Patrice and i stopped and had a drink with his brother, who spoke a bit of English, and the the three of us headed to the old village.

Patrice’s brother gave me a tour of the village, which is known for its painted huts, which are covered in symbolic designs representing animist tradition. Geometric patterns, lizards, tortoises, and seeds were common.

The village was designed for protection from enemies and is laid out in a twisty maze, with tiny doorways into the houses to thwart invaders. I learned that round huts were for single people, square huts for married couples, and huts shaped like figure eights were for seniors. I was shown (but not allowed to photograph) the place where sacrifices are made for the village.
I got to go into one hut, which had three rooms, including a kitchen, each separated with tiny portals which one had to crawl through. People live there today and were all quite friendly, particularly the children who handed me peanuts while saying bonjour.

It was all very interesting and worth the journey to get there from Ouagadougou. After the village, we had coffee and took a stroll through the market, where i bought some oranges.

We returned to Pô and i killed time until my bus back to Ouagadougou. I watched some tv with the proprietor of my hotel and had a cigar while making some small talk in Franglais.

The bus ride back was mostly in the dark and was a bit nerve-wracking, as the highway was completely dark and the landscape disappeared. The security checkpoints seemed more ominous and for a while machine gun armed soldiers in full combat gear rode with us through an area known for attacks from bandits.

After about three hours we arrived in Ouagadougou and I made my way back to my hotel, where I fell asleep, too tired for dinner. A long but good day.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

On the Road in Pô

I did something i seldom do anymore, which is i arrived in my destination without a hotel/hostel reservation. I stopped doing this after i arrived in Prague during the jazz festival and found every conceivable accommodation booked aside from the worst hotel in Europe, which did not have a shower but did have a host of bedbugs.

Anyway, i arrived in Pô from Ouagadougou after a very pleasant three hour bus journey. Unlike previous bus trips, this one was not oversold, had highly functioning AC, and i had two seats to myself from which to enjoy the view of dry landscapes, villages, and cotton fields.

Pô is a dusty little town in south Burkina Faso, near the border with Ghana. There is no reason to visit it except that it is the jumping off place to view elephants etc in the Nazinga nature reserve and to see a little village called Tiébélé. I was there for the latter.

I left the bus depot, map in hand with three hotels noted. The first no longer existed, the second was full, but i got a room at the third. The Hotel Tiandora Esperance. It looked like it might have been ok once but now looked like a low rent motel that had barely survived a war. Dusty and broken with piles of garbage and junk. No place to eat or sit really. On the plus side, my room was clean and the AC worked well, also the guy working there, a young guy from Cote d’Ivoire with a slight mohawk, was very nice.

Getting to the hotel was a struggle. My map was a bit wrong and left me in circles on the super dusty roads, walking in a perpetual cloud of dust, like Pig Pen. The streets were mostly empty aside from donkeys, loads of pigs and goats, and lizards on every wall. It was blazingly hot and no shade to be found.

After getting my room though i felt a bit better and set off to wander after i arranged for a moto for the next morning. The town has one paved road through and the rest is just bumpy, dusty side streets. This made it easy to find things and there were a few decent places to eat, including one which had four vegetarian dishes on the menu. A miracle in a place where vegetarian usually means meat with vegetables.

As i didn’t have anything else to do, i walked a lot, checking out the businesses (mostly auto repair shops and hair salons) and people watching. In Pô i seemed to attract more attention that elsewhere i have been in the country. People called out “Nasara” constantly, which means “white woman” in one of the tribal languages. I don’t think it is meant in a derogatory way, as it is often accompanied with a friendly “bon arrivé”, but i don’t care for it. A lot of little kids ran out to say “bonjour” and shake my hand, which was always welcome.

I ate and smoked and napped and walked and smoked some more while finishing my book. There is no internet in Pô. I have been rereading “On the Road” on this trip for the first time since high school. I still like it though i found it sadder than i remember. Teenage me was captivated by the freedom and adventure. This still resonates with adult me, but so does Sal’s on going unhappiness in wondering if that is all there is: uncertainty and the pursuit of “kicks”. Anyway, i finished the book sitting in a chair i dragged outside, and slept well. The next day i was headed for Tiébélé.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Bus from Banfora, Burkina Faso

I left Banfora for Ouagadougou on the bus. I had hoped to bus to Bobo-Dioulasso and fly the rest of the way but there were no flights on Sunday, so i committed to a bus journey of indeterminate length. The buses here seem to leave punctually but the arrival times are vague. This is due mostly to the great number of security checkpoints, which i understand have increased. About every thirty minutes a couple of machine gun bearing soldiers will either board the bus or haul everyone off the bus to check IDs. No questions are asked. I can’t figure out what they are looking for. So this slowed down the journey a lot.

The bus was crammed with people and about half of the women had babies or toddlers on their laps, including the woman next to me. On the whole ride music and videos were played at a volume that was not extreme, but on the loud side. Decent African music in the more traditional or jazzy vein, as well as contemporary African pop music, accompanied by videos that showed women of all sizes shaking their asses, and men dressed as though they were in early 1990s rap music videos. At one point they showed the movie “Taken” in French, which i quite enjoyed; otherwise i listened to podcasts.

Every time the bus stopped women would appear and flock to the windows, selling fruits, bread, hard boiled eggs, chicken, fish, farina beignets, bags of onions, baguettes, and little sesame snacks. People leaned out of the windows, buying the food and before long the smell of body odour on the bus was replaced by a variety of food smells.

At the only stop long enough take a brief break, i dashed off the bus for the toilet, which was a squat thing which became immersed in total darkness once the door was closed. I’m fairly certain i peed on my own foot.

The seats had no legroom and i spent my time with my knees jammed into the back of the seat in front of me. There was AC, but it barely functioned, so i sat sweating the whole way.

If this all sounds like 9 hours of horror, well, while it was not pleasant, it wasn’t that bad. I was able to relax. The child and woman next to me where quiet. I slept a bit. And like i said, they showed Taken.

I arrived in Ouagadougou just before sunset and hailed a taxi to my hotel (the lovely Chez Giuliana). Once there i showered vigorously and had a vegetarian pizza delivered (as there are no restaurants in the immediate vicinity). I ate my pizza and enjoyed two cigars under the stars in courtyard before falling asleep. The next day i would be back on the bus.

Africa Burkina Faso Burkina Faso Trip 2016

Burkina Faso Village Hospitality

My final full day in Banfora started as did the day before: roosters and coffee. I made a little coffee at the house once i got over my fear of the gas stove, and then returned to the local corner cafe for an espresso. Today all of the men were filling out their racing forms. There are gambling kiosks here everywhere painted with pots of gold and horses head. People (men) bet on horse races in France hoping to win big. They din’t get to see the races, not even on TV. It seems to be a popular pastime. I was asked to assist with picking horses. The only one that jumped out at me was La Baguette Magique.

My guide picked me up on the moto and we headed on a dirt road through fields of sugar cane for Domes de Fabridougou. Similar to the Sindou Peaks i saw yesterday, but more round and less pointy. Still, it was nice to go on the hike. It was so serene and beautiful and hot, but dry. We hiked and sat on the top of a dome and took in the view and i had a smoke, trying to be in the moment as much as possible. On a dome, in Western Burkina Faso.

We left and, much to my surprise, made a stop in my guide’s village, near the domes. This is where he grew up until he was 15 and where most of his family lives, including his mother and daughters. About 25 people live in the small collection of tiny huts in the middle of the fields under a huge tree. Some smoke French, but all spoke in a local, tribal language (not Moore, something else).

This was some serious, rural poverty. Not all the kids has clothes and those they had were in very poor repair. No water or electricity. No phone, no lights, no motorcar. But they were very friendly and hospitable. They swept off a place in the dirt, clearing it from debris, and laid out a straw mat for me to sit on. Several of the women and children started making lunch for my guide and i. While they cooked i sat and watched women tend to the children and the women and children doing each other’s hair in braids. I tried to make some small talk, but mostly it was a lot of smiling.

After that my guide took me to two more unexpected stops. First was a visit to a ritual sacrifice area for the animists, of which he is one. Around a beautiful pool ringed with ricks and trees the ground was thickly carpeted in white chicken feathers. It looked like snow. The trunk of one tall palm tree was thickly hung with ropes, which were tied on to skulls, jaw bones, goat legs, and what looked like the skin of a cow’s face and head. From other trees and from the rock wall around the pool were more ropes dangling bones, skulls, and rocks. All for sacrifice and offerings or protection.

It was really interesting but it really looked like something out of a horror movie. Like if Leatherface and the Blairwitch collaborated on a little outdoor decorating.

Near the sacrifice area was the waterfall, which is a ridiculously picturesque series of small waterfalls and green, tropical pools. Had i been prepared i could have gone swimming. It was so beautiful it looked like something created for a film or Disneyland.

I usually don’t want a guide because i prefer to do things myself, but this was a time when i really could not have seen everything i did had i just been alone.

The ride back to Banfora from the village was terrifying. It was dusk to dark. The road was so bumpy that at times i bounced off my seat. We dodged small goats, a large lizard, and regular size pigs. We brushed shoulders with herds of cows. Not only was it dark and treacherous, but it was windy and the dirt road coughed up a haze of orange. I was certain that i would die, but was delivered to my lodging safely, and quite filthy.

I spent the rest of the evening chatting with Marion, the owner of the house at which i stayed and playing with the many kittens and puppies.

Banfora was delightful. Full of outdoorsy retreats and adventures. The next day i would return to Ouagadougou.

Wandering North

Tag: Travel

Arrival in Yogyakarta

Jakarta

Today: Taipei

In Bruges and Back to Brussels

13 hours in Istanbul

The Bazoule Crocodiles

Tiébélé: the painted village

On the Road in Pô

Bus from Banfora, Burkina Faso

Burkina Faso Village Hospitality