For a first-timer in Sahara like me, I think it’s nearly impossible to tell whether there are landmarks to go by along the way from Tombouctou to Essakane. Or back. I’m not even sure if there is such a thing which you can with confidence call the way, in the first place. OK, on stretches there are tyre tracks and thereby you know that people pass there. But elsewhere you just cut the dunes – or at least terrain – without any visible orientation and there is nothing to indicate that you’re going anywhere.
So it was impossible for me to tell whether we went the same „way“ to Tombouctou as we had from there. Or maybe not. For someone who was not born in the desert, there was no way of knowing.
However, when apparently in the middle of nowhere we pulled over by a signpost reading Douekire, I knew I’d not been there before. At first we saw just two decrepit, low, mud-brick structures which didn’t even look inhabited. Guele got out of the car and we were having a few minutes to stretch our legs. If we wanted to.
But it was windy. And by extension the air was pretty full of sand. So the ladies chose to stay inside the vehicle. I was the only one to get out. Not exactly a blessing for my camera, but what the hell. Who could know when next I’d be coming to Sahara? And while Guele disappeared in the direction of a dimly visible little cluster of mud-brick huts just some way off the road, I took my pictures here at the edge of this Saharan settlement called Douekire.
Ten minutes later we were again on the move.
