We were definitely right about sleeping on the roof as we found it wonderfully cool and I slept very well. Inside Anne, Diana and Ebrima reported that it was very warm all night with little comfort from the stand fan that had they had been provided.

Sitting at the table on the terrace Sue told us that Chris was to sleep in as he was not feeling well so we were to go on ahead to meet Ali Baba – the young man who had shown us the way to the hotel and the friend of Alex – at the Artist's market in town to discuss transport out of Timbuktu in a few days time. We had been told that once you get to Timbuktu it is wise to immediately look at transport out since it is so difficult to get there. We had turned down Alex's offer of a 4×4 return trip when we were in Mopti since we were sure we would be able to arrange this in Timbuktu. In retrospect perhaps it would have been easier. We headed off on the long walk back to almost where we came from yesterday out of the bâchée and stopped at a local patisserie (thankfully, covered) for a croissant and coffee for breakfast (well, I had a “Jus de Pomme” not coffee). Eventually Alex showed up then after a bit of negotiation we agreed to meet with the driver and see the vehicle at the “Hôtel Bouctou”. We managed to haggle him down to 145,000 CFA for the trip from Timbuktu to Hombori (not Mopti since we thought Hombori might be an interesting place to visit with transport, according to the books, quite easy from there) since he needed to get the vehicle back to Timbuktu (though we suspect he would not be coming back to Timbuktu empty).

I have to admit at this point that I was not altogether happy with how Chris/Sue handled the negotiations and was in a bit of a “huff”. It was a bit of a misunderstanding (and perhaps a bit of being tired as well) that I eventually got over and we managed to smooth over. I acted like a petulant child for a while before coming to my senses and getting on with it.

After the car had been arranged, Chris and Sue agreed to move into this hotel instead of ours (because it was more central and also, I would suspect, for a bit of space of their own) while we did some further negotiation for a 2-hour camel trip tomorrow at 5:00 (PM). Eventually we agreed on 4,000 CFA per person. Finally, the last thing to arrange was a bit of a tour that Ali Baba arranged for us with his friend Mohammed for, also, two hours (split over two days). It might seem funny that we were arranging all of this but it seems to be the best way to do things in Timbuktu since nothing is formally arranged, you have to find the correct people and get things organised that way and, generally, well in advance. Anyway, all of our tourist stuff had been arranged and the next part of our journey was set so we headed out.

Anne, Ebrima, Diana and myself knew that since it was Saturday the tourist office would be open so we got Mohammed to take us there to have our passports stamped – we have to prove that we were here! Eventually we arrived at what looked like a normal compound (ok, a sign out the front but nothing else to identify it from any of the other buildings on the road) which seemed to be under construction though we stepped over the concrete forms and entered into the rather basic building with one room lined with Mali tourism posters obviously past their prime and curling off the wall then were directed into the attached office where we greeted the man in charge who was behind a desk (with computer) who took some of our details then very helpfully signed and stamped our passports “Tombouctou”.

From the tourist office we had Mohammed take us to the post office which turned out to be on the far side of town in the south, fairly close to where we had first come into the city yesterday. We stopped briefly to take pictures near a sign “Bienvenue a Tombouctou cite des 333 saintes” (Welcome to Timbuktu, city of 333 saints) before heading down the road to the rather modern (looking) post office. They had postcards for sale and it took a long time for us to sort out what we wanted to do, write the post cards, sort the postage and finally drop them in the post. I tend to try to get my money's worth for postcards so write very small and a lot so I took quite some time while Mohammed tried hard not to look bored sitting beside us on the bench along the wall.

After our hard work (it is tiring in the heat!) we headed to the other side of the road to a bar for a few, cold drinks. As we were sitting there we were joined at regular intervals by Tuareg attempting to sell us things (including a sabre, pipes, more jewellery, more boxes, etc, etc) one industrious man had set up a table complete with cloth to display his wares – just for us! We had to disappoint them.

We headed out back to the hotel but were followed by a man desperately wanting to sell us some necklaces though we continuously said “non” he followed us all the way back up to Place d'Independance dropping his price every 10 metres or so. He had eventually got down to about 4,000 CFA before he gave up (he started in the bar at 20,000 CFA). It seems that bargaining is quite a ruthless art here.

After walking back to the hotel along a number of back roads we relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. I lay down on my mattress in the big room in the middle of the hotel which is simply a large, concrete room that serves as alternate accommodation if it rains for those staying on the roof. It was much cooler than being outside at this time of day but a bit of a strange experience as I read a National Geographic I had picked up at the airport in Dakar (English version, yes) lying flat on my back in the large empty space.

At 5:00 Mohammed returned to give us part one of his tour of the city. We began by walking back into the centre of the city where we visited the Djinguereber Mosque (the “Grand Mosque” of the city) which, as with every other building (and every mosque), is made of mud.

Anne paid the 2,500 CFA to enter (the only mosque in Mali a non-Muslim can enter) and Ebrima joined him (free, since he indicated he was Muslim) to take a brief tour of the mosque. Diana and I sat down on some mud blocks on the corner to wait for them to return. From here we could see two sides of the mosque and some of the ovens used by local people to bake bread. According to Mohammed, many people have their own, bell-shaped oven for their compound. The flatbread here is formed then dragged through a bit of sand before putting into the oven. Don't know why, “just tradition” I have been told. As we were going around with Mohammed he seemed reluctant to talk so I had to repeatedly ask him questions to get him to say anything.

Eventually we were found by some local people who stopped to have a chat though, when the crowd got a bit bigger then took it upon themselves to try to sell us things. Ebrima and Anne then showed their heads on the roof of the mosque so a few pictures later they joined us back on the street and we were off again to continue our tour. They indicated that there was not a lot to see inside the mosque that was quite basic with a lot of small corridors though there was a door that was kept permanently locked. Evidently it is through this door that an unbeliever had been banished after being turned into a lion when the Imam shouted “Allah Akbar” (Allah is good) during a service in the mosque.

We continued around the core of the city visiting some houses declared as historical sites which were the homes of various explorers from Europe (and elsewhere) who had visited seeking the riches that were fabled to come from here. We noticed a number of low-walled (6 inches) areas attached to some buildings that we were told were the burial sites of some of the “333 saints”. Attached to another mosque we noticed a tomb that was not bricked up to the top where children were sticking their hands in looking for something. Mohammed told us that this was because the relatives of the person buried there will put alms for the poor on top of the grave of their departed and the children will go around to retrieve them.

Walking along a street lined on either side with small shops the street opened up to the central market area where we were confronted with the large, concrete, multi-story building that is the new market. Heading inside it was a large open area on the ground level with stalls set up along a few aisles with balconies wrapping around the space at each level above ground. Heading into the middle of the structure we climbed up the large concrete steps to the roof where we were able to see the whole of the city spread out in front of us.

On the roof there are three restaurants. Mohammed indicated that one was not too bad so we headed over for something to eat. Once we finally managed to talk to someone from the restaurant (enjoying the views in the meantime as well as the setting sun on the opposite side) it seemed he did not even understand French (not that any of us could really speak it all that well) but we eventually managed to order a half chicken and break (each). Two hours later (!) the food arrived but in the meantime a disco (very noisy music but no people, according to Anne who investigated) opened up and some of our French friends from the boat took up another table beside us. The chicken was quite good but the wait, by now it was dark, was not quite so nice. We warned our friends at the next table before heading back down and through the streets of the city to the hotel.

It is not as cool tonight as it was yesterday, particularly in the rooms. Today was incredibly hot in the sun and so much obviously cooler in the shade. Probably because of the dryness of the air.

I helped myself to a mattress and returned to my humble abode on the roof. Anne, Ebrima and Diana soon joined me as they attempted to escape the heat of their rooms.

⇒ Continue to Day 15 - Sunday, August 1st, 2004