In addition to skipping breakfasts, Annette seemed to like indulging in a habit of sleeping in. So while she took time to really get going into the day, I slipped out and went into town. There was no need for her to follow me, say, to the post office. I had those postcards on me which I had bought back in Ouagadougou, they were now written and I just had to send them off. Then, as Marina Market was just a block or two away, I could drop by to buy some food and water. Besides, I walked faster when all by myself, so it was best like this.
So early in the morning, when the sun was not so high up yet, it was really pleasant to be outside. People were already there, of course, but you didn’t break sweat yet. OK, locals hardly seemed to perspire at all, regardless of the time of the day, but for me it certainly made a difference. I thoroughly enjoyed this early walk.
Main Bobo-Dioulasso post office is located just off the Avenue de la République, 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 Annette 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 temperature was still in the twenties, was really pleasant.
After my short walk, with postcards sent and food bought, I returned to „Le Cocotier“. The two of us had to check out. The day before, during our walk, right next to Marina Market, in the Avenue Ouédraogo, we had found „L’Auberge“ hotel. It looked OK, so I suggested we move in there today. As expected, Annette had no objections, so we got our luggage out and got ourselves a taxi. Annette claimed she was not hungry, so there was nothing to keep us in „Le Cocotier“ any longer.
„L’Auberge“ was a much more luxurious place. Probably the best one in Bobo. The building was much cleaner, the reception desk much more representative, room much better equipped, and with a nice balcony overlooking a spacious garden. In the middle of the garden there was a large swimming pool with a few white people already taking a dip, and all around the pool there were tables, chairs and deck chairs. Across from our ward, also by the poolside, there was a roofed restaurant. A nice place indeed.
We basically just left our luggage in the room and went straight out. Our plan for today was to visit a traditional village of Koumi and the forest called „Guinguette“, which were both inside the twenty-kilometre circle from Bobo. As none of them were accessible by bus, the only way to get there was to hire a taxi. And that was Annette’s job.
Taxis are abundant in Africa and there’s really no problem finding one. They seem to pop up out of every corner you turn your eyes to. They even seek you out of their own accord as soon as they see you’re westerner. So Annette started haggling with one of them, explaining them where we wanted to go. And while she was at it, a guy with a dark turban and a long white-and-orange patterned robe came up to me and started hawking his stuff on me. I politely smiled and excused myself for not speaking French. Well, he didn’t speak English, but managed to explain that he was a Tuareg. And he was selling their traditional trinkets. Which meant he’d come pretty far down south from what I believed was the land of his people. Anyway, I turned down all his offers, but asked him to take a picture with me. In a way, for him it was just another aspect of trade. He readily accepted. For a fee, that is.
The exact amount of the fee was obviously left to me. I took out a few coins, 750 CFA in all, and gave it to him. The transaction done, I was now free to take pictures of and with him all I wanted. Naturally, Annette eyed it all with suspicion. But miraculously, maybe even to her surprise, I came out of it unscathed. The Tuareg and I shook hands, parted ways and that was it.
And as for Annette, she negotiated the taxi service for twenty thousand CFA, which would include first getting us to the bus terminal where we wanted to buy tickets to Banfora. After that we would be taken to Koumi, then Guinguette and finally return to Bobo some time in the afternoon. It was fine with me.
Our plan for tomorrow was to go on to Banfora. I learned by now that it always seemed wise to buy bus tickets one day in advance, no mater where you go. Bobo-Dioulasso was the same as Ouagadougou in the sense that each bus company had its own terminal. The one we needed right now was „Rakieta“.
