Mali Mali 10 – Mali-land!!!!

11 January 2009
12.31p.m.
Teriya Bugu
Weird place…

There is definitely a sense of just getting the trip over and done with now – from everyone really. Tony and Lisa are doing a great job of keeping spirits and expectations raised, but there doesn’t seem to really be too much to look forward to except a swim in Bamako and hot shower at home.  OK, so there’s a pool here in Teriya Bugu but we’ve all decided that Teriya Bugu isn’t really in Mali after all.

Lisa had decreed that once we were on the truck and out of Tombouctou we were officially NOT allowed to be cranky about not getting to the festival – now a swear word – and everyone had to perk up.  So, brave faces on, we set forth.  Our first destination was at the end of two-hundred kilometres of corrugated piste – according to Tony, a joy to drive but not really a joy to passenge – and a town called Douentza.  Apparently, everyone had the same idea as I did and thought this would be a great opportunity to stretch out and catch up on some sleep.  Seeing as we were eight members short, there should have been plenty of room – however, as we were passing through Sevare later tomorrow, the back seat was taken up with all the bottles (empties we had drunk) and empties Tony had swapped in Tombouctou when we realised we weren’t going to the f******l.  Didn’t really seem to keep anyone from sleep.

Even when awake, the two days seemed to disappear in a haze of half-wakeful-ness, punctuated by stops for lunch, wee breaks, and one delightful night bust camping.  Without Ruth, Kate and the funsters around, the conversation had become centred around a few people, and it seemed my tolerance for their expertise in all areas was running a tad low.  You’d think teaching would teach you patience at least!

Our next destination – one previously unheard of by Dragoman, let alone the guidebooks, was Teriya Bugu – not even on the map in Madge! – and just as the sun was setting, we entered this little slice of surreality about twenty kilometres off the main road between San and Bla (two other fantastically titled towns).  None of us were sure what to expect – the only information Lisa had gleaned about the place was that it operated as a kind of commune-based self-supporting tourist refuge – whatever that is.  we re-christened it Mali-land.

Plastic – or papier-mâché – casts of African animals lined the small lanes of what immediately seemed like an Australian family caravan park, themed in African style – only no caravans.  A basketball court, animal enclosures, banana groves, river flowing by – we looked around and at each other as if in a kind of twilight zone.  Had we left Mali?  Did we need a visa? Where was the nine-hole mini golf course? They even had a slippery dip into the swimming pool.

We pitched camp and the wonderful Naphi was into the cooking straight away – she’s a legend, although she does seem to have a preference for fried food.  As we had a day planned here tomorrow to check out the area and chill a bit, we all seemed to disperse to our tents rather quickly – well, I did at least, managing to finish the book that I had started earlier that day and lie back to ponder what on earth this place was.

A wonderful breakfast or prawn crackers that next day – fried, of course – and the day to ourselves to explore, swim, basically do as we saw fit.  After an extended sit around at brekky, I went for a stroll, armed with camera, and slowly came to grips with this bizarre place.  Apparently initiated by a Catholic missionary in the 60s, it had grown to function basically as a leisure refuge – we’re not entirely sure who for, but I don’t think it is entirely up Dragoman’s alley. There ain’t much to do here except go for a swim (haven’t yet), read a book, go for a walk or sleep…

Admittedly it is a lovely place to stroll – you have to double take to work out which continent you are on, such is the proliferation of eucalypts.  The smell as we droves here was quite powerful and comforting – reminded me of home.

The animal enclosures were a little pitiful – tortoises, deer, a python and some monkeys didn’t really seem to be having the best time, but I must admit I didn’t really get the impression they were particularly fussed either way.  Birds were abundant here – some beautifully plumed pigeons and doves shared with what Janet claims are blue rollers, and a gang of peacocks wandering around and causing quite a racket around dusk.

I wandered out the front gate – the running joke became ‘Did you need another visa?’, so unlike Mali was Teriya Bugu – to find a small fishing village nestled just outside – and the friendliest Malians we’d yet encountered.  Everyone waved or said hi, wanted a chat, beckoned me over, and none asked for a brass razoo.  All smiles and no worries.

I can’t shake the feeling that the fun has left this trip.  We’re making it up as we go now – apart from Sikasso and Bamako, we’ve no real idea of where we’re going or how it will go getting there.  Being the youngest person left also has me a little on the peripheries.  Don’t really fit this trip anymore – it’s no secret that I can be a little solitary at the best of times, but its getting more difficult to engage in some conversations.  Although I get on well with all the others, it’s difficult to connect with them in a meaningful way.  Still, I shouldn’t complain.  No dickheads on board, and Tony and Lisa are great value.  Note to self: pack Louise next time I do a trip like this.  If there is a next time.

I hope the guys at the f******l are OK.  Surely news would have reached us if anything had gone wrong.  I was talking with Lisa about how although we don’t wish any harm to come to them, we, who elected to stay behind, do want to feel vindicated in our decision not to go.  Just so we can stand assured we did the right thing.  Once that is secure in my mind, all will be well.