Mali had some prior familiarity – the music, Timbuktu, the travels of Mungo Park – but I knew nothing at all of Niger, apart from a famine appeal a couple of years ago. But it looks very interesting, the people are friendly, and I’m sorry we don’t have more time to explore the country.
The road to Agadez is tarred most of the way, and passes through many villages. Dust devils, mini tornadoes, sweep across the fields which are stubble at this time of year. Many people have deep facial cuts. I asked a policeman about his four cicatrice – two at each side of his mouth, and he said he was a Maouri, and received the incisions at the time of his birth. When we told him we were going to Agadez he said we would have plenty of security, as President Gaddafy of Libya is visiting the town for the Prophet’s Birthday.
In the mornings and evenings we come across streams of people and animals going to or coming from market. We stopped at a couple, one of them near the town of Dosso. Activity was winding down, trucks and old Land Rovers being packed. But there was still plenty of people of diverse tribes, animals tethered under trees, mutton kebabs cooking over wood fire. I started with a couple of boys trailing me and ended with about fifty, swarming around and trying to jump into photos.
We camped undisturbed in savannah near the border with Nigeria, and continued to the town of Birniri-Konni. This turned out to be a centre for smuggled fuel from Nigeria. We were tempted to fill up at about 50c/litre, but were worried that it could be adulterated so went to the filling station and paid the usual 80c. We stayed that night in Tahoua, at what is listed as the best hotel in town. It looked basic but had the essentials: clean room and cold beer; plus some extras – air conditioning, and pretty good steak and chips. A cold shower would have been nice but the water comes roasting from the roof tank. And the night guard washed the car.
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