The road to Timbuktu

Day: 28
Location: Timbuktu, Mali
Weather: HOT
Kilometers: 450
Hours: 9
Health: good
Accomodation: Sahara Passion, terrace
Price, room: 2.5K CFA x 2 = 5K CFA
Price, petrol: 503 CFA
Price, water: 416 CFA each for 24 bottles
Shower: no
Morale: 9
Total spend: 91K CFA
Song of the day: "Salva Mea" Faithless

GB: The road to Timbuktu was described to us as "bad, but with a 4x4 you're fine". We were also told to expect the following breakdown:
- Mopti - Douentza 200K – tarmac
- Douentza - Timbuktu
part 1 - 100KM - dirt track, a few holes
part 2 - 100KM – bad
We were told to expect an average of 50Kph all included, for an 8 hour trip.

Going to Douentza was no problem. Once in Douentza, we stopped for lunch, checked the water level on the car and strengthened the screws on the forward bumper.

We then set off on the first "tough" part. The road was heavily corrugated (i.e. quite choppy) but as we discovered that you barely feel it at 80 kph or above, we started cruising. The occasional hole was of course surprising, but the car seemed to take it well.

At the end of part 1 we shifted drivers and Adam took the wheel. The real fun began. At that point everything on the road went south. The chops in the road seemed to be impossible to avoid by going faster (we tried, only to feel as if the car was going to disintegrate), and we regularly came upon deep sandy patches. We got stuck 3 times, and each time the 4x4 function on the car came in handy. Lock the front wheels into gear, engage the 4 wheel drive, punch the gas, and I could then watch Adam drive the car out of what seemed like a sea of sand. While we looked at each other in dismay the first time we got sanded, by the third time it had all become a routine. We are pretty happy with the car. The 1991 Landcruiser may have been quite a liability here - tough to say for sure.

We had to cross a ferry (7.5K CFA!), once again a great illustration of monopoly pricing. Since driving back was not really an option, nor was driving around the Timbuktu River, we caved. We finally entered Timbuktu the Mysterious after 6.5 hours of driving, exhausted but relieved that the car was still running. By that time we had tightened the bumper twice, and used duct tape from our guidebooks to hold the headlights in place, since they had gotten disconnected and started to wobble dangerously. We also found an oil leak since the bottom screw of the oil tank had suffered a hit. No apparent structural damage however.

Our chauffeur/chaperone proceeded to pray as we arrived, although it remains unclear whether he was thanking God or asking for one more favor: a safe return.

We started strolling about Timbuktu. Mud houses, sandy roads, 4x4s all around, and the feeling of being at the edge of civilization made for a very unique feeling.

As it was the last day of campaigning for local legislative elections, we got T-shirts of one of the candidates: Sandy. I hope he wins, and I hope he never turns out to be a dictator... We then went to the opposite side, but they only had one T-shirt.

We met there a local kid who took us in now darkening streets into an empty building and onto its roof, where a restaurant was operating in the moonlight. We sat with Sanna and had a good dinner. The conversation trailed off into the evening as we arranged through our friend for a 4AM camel ride into the dunes the next morning, all under an impressive desert sky.

AW: My favorite part of the drive was when all trace of the road ended near this field full of cattle. Guillaume came around the corner and hit the dead end at around 60kph. In a stroke of genius he cranked the wheel and turned a full donut before coming to a halt, and then continuing through the cows.

Timbuktu hadn't seen power in 3 days when we arrived. This made it difficult to complete the ritual chugging of ice cold Fanta after peeling off the synthetic leather bench seats. We eventually, in the midst of negotiation over the amazing Sandy shirts, found an Arabic version in a 2L bottle. Disregarding the diabetes risk, the three of us pounded the soda in about a minute, and then staggered around for another 30 minutes waiting for insulin levels to normalize.

Timbuktu was a little anticlimactic, but that was exactly as expected, so we didn't know quite how to feel. It was great to walk around in the sandy blocks, and note that cell phone reception was a little better than in my apartment in New York.

There was, very surprisingly, almost no hustle, possibly because people were so occupied with some guy cranking on an electric guitar at the political rally. I guess he lugged a generator along with his amp. This rally was more sophisticated than the other campaigns we witnessed, which primarily involved overloading a truck with people, and then rallying around honking and yelling at people.

Naturally, we had taken the cheapest option to sleep on the terrace (they swore there were no mosquitoes). The nights had been very comfortable in Mali, no deep freeze or anything. There was, however, a sandstorm followed by thunder, lightning, and rain. Eventually, we were drenched and had no idea where Modibo was with the car keys, so we busted into the one unlocked room to find shelter for the electronics in our pockets. The grand poobah proprietor was snoring loudly inside, but I found this bed made of sticks, and the others dragged in mattresses. Some Arab guy jumped in the stick bed about a half hour later, and was very surprised to find me in there too, but I didn't get up so he got uncomfortable and left. 2 Hours later, when we had to wake up for the damn camel ride, we realized that the snoring guy was actually Modibo. A crap 4 hour night, but I guess Timbuktu isn't legendary for being a cake walk.