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nions and we hit the road towards the West of the country, towards the town of Bobo-Dioulasso.<figure id="8e12"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*VipT-PZBsqCJBRxXo9SmTQ.jpeg"><figcaption>First dinner together, in the African bush. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>Bobo-Dioulasso was a hot and dusty provincial capital, with a very French colonial feel, in spite of all that.<figure id="0d08"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*GvrcttB0bC00-jz-s-LGQQ.jpeg"><figcaption>Vehicles and shops and baguettes in Bob-Dioulasso — all tres Francais. (And the bread was fantastic!) © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>Away from the cities and towns, we were immersed back into the “real Africa”, where people lived in small villages or communities, where everything seemed to be constructed out of mud and thatch, all in slightly different shades of brown, under a hot blue sky.<figure id="0d27"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*YodKalsCXJEKvURyVbkrTQ.jpeg"><figcaption>Grain (and presumably other food) storage, in little mud structures, suspended above the ground. Meat is kept alive to preserve it — as evidenced by the goat in the foreground. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>The countryside looks very dry, we were in the Sahel, on the southern edge of the Sahara Desert. However, there were a couple of large rivers to cross. The first one was the Bani river, on the way to Djenne.<figure id="119f"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*7gZXGAi9k0HU6RpV_OcpAg.jpeg"><figcaption>My offspring perched on our the Landcruiser, on the ferry across the Bani river. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure><figure id="50bf"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*0fUz1xjOuQc_-DjtKbSLcA.jpeg"><figcaption>The magnificent mosque in Djenne, entirely built out of mud and sticks. And surrounded by stalls where anything could be bought. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>Just about everything in Djenne was constructed out of mud, including that grans, famous mosque in the picture above, the houses and shops, and even the hotel.<figure id="606d"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*JwKTvkYagLRmG8zCm_dzng.jpeg"><figcaption>The hotel was very dark and hot inside, we obtained permission to camp on the roof. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure><figure id="ade0"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.r

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eadmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*AWrIgEwVTTpuTilBuEYigQ.jpeg"><figcaption>Vegetable and fruit shopping in Djenne. Check out that mountain of mangoes! © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>After departing from Djenne, we headed towards Mopti, on the Niger river, which also had to be crossed by ferry. Then onwards through the sand, towards Tombouctou.<figure id="afba"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*ooNifEfzmOAVKQrqKCiY-g.jpeg"><figcaption>How some of the locals travel and transport stuff. We actually saw one such caravan where the camels were all carrying huge slabs of salt. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure><figure id="9cc1"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*ZfYzjiFxCajYz4U-TFbbfw.jpeg"><figcaption>Navigating through the Sahel: One lady, two men, one boy, 3 GPS units, one paper map. What could possibly go wrong? Can I call this a road trip if there was actually no road for part of the way? © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure><figure id="4c5a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*u8ZfGyv7H_gLIh-gKZHdUg.jpeg"><figcaption>Stopped for lunch. It might look as if we were on a beach, but the sea was VERY far away! © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>And finally, we made it to Tombouctou. Some people that we’ve met elsewhere in the world, seemed to think that it was a make-believe exotic place that only exists in Donald Duck comics, but it is a place with a fascinating history, that I may discuss elsewhere, later.<figure id="a8f0"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*Va4o7m7Uv5SyQJ-S58XmOQ.jpeg"><figcaption>Evidence that we made it. My family and I, in Tombouctou. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure><figure id="d62f"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*U-zDYqSRR6XAvk3TE9Au-A.jpeg"><figcaption>Our team, somewhere in the desert. © Ron Smit, 1999</figcaption></figure>I plan to write a much longer story about this expedition one day. Perhaps a small book? But I need time, I need to decipher some of my scribbled notes made during the trip, and I need access to pictures made by fellow travelers. Perhaps it will become a joint effort, who knows.But I wanted to give a little taster of our trip to Tombouctou. Hope you liked the pictures! Can you almost feel the sun on the skin and taste the dust between your teeth? It all comes back to me when I look at pictures like these.</article></body>

Ten days to Tombouctou

- a safari through the Sahel.

Our traveling group, somewhere in Burkina Faso. © Ron Smit, 1999

Yes, I know that this is my third submission to the “Road trip” monthly challenge. But I promise that this one is very different. More of a photo essay. Apologies in advance for any photo quality issues. I had to scan prints, and later reduce file sizes to make this work. But this does give a nice “retro” effect :).

It was April 1999 and we were based in Accra, Ghana. Together with two other families, we decided to travel to Tombouctou.

Why? Well.., why not?

Stopping for lunch on day 1, still in Ghana. © Ron Smit, 1999

While still traveling northwards through Ghana, we stopped at Paga, famous for its crocodiles.

One of the tourist attractions in northern Ghana — a visit to the crocodiles at Paga. Out of the image to the left: A man holding a live chicken, to keep the croc’s attention. Yeah, not sure I would do this again with my family… © Ron Smit, 1999

A house in Paga — crocs are a popular theme there. Note the rooftop terrace for those hot evenings. Thick mud walls and small windows also help to keep the heat out of a house. © Ron Smit, 1999

Amazing to see how much you can transport with a bus in Africa… © Ron Smit, 1999

After crossing the border into Burkina Faso, we met up and spent an evening with some old friends who were living and working in Ouagadougou.

A street scene in the capital of Burkina Faso, Ouagadougou. © Ron Smit, 1999

The next day, we met up with our traveling companions and we hit the road towards the West of the country, towards the town of Bobo-Dioulasso.

First dinner together, in the African bush. © Ron Smit, 1999

Bobo-Dioulasso was a hot and dusty provincial capital, with a very French colonial feel, in spite of all that.

Vehicles and shops and baguettes in Bob-Dioulasso — all tres Francais. (And the bread was fantastic!) © Ron Smit, 1999

Away from the cities and towns, we were immersed back into the “real Africa”, where people lived in small villages or communities, where everything seemed to be constructed out of mud and thatch, all in slightly different shades of brown, under a hot blue sky.

Grain (and presumably other food) storage, in little mud structures, suspended above the ground. Meat is kept alive to preserve it — as evidenced by the goat in the foreground. © Ron Smit, 1999

The countryside looks very dry, we were in the Sahel, on the southern edge of the Sahara Desert. However, there were a couple of large rivers to cross. The first one was the Bani river, on the way to Djenne.

My offspring perched on our the Landcruiser, on the ferry across the Bani river. © Ron Smit, 1999

The magnificent mosque in Djenne, entirely built out of mud and sticks. And surrounded by stalls where anything could be bought. © Ron Smit, 1999

Just about everything in Djenne was constructed out of mud, including that grans, famous mosque in the picture above, the houses and shops, and even the hotel.

The hotel was very dark and hot inside, we obtained permission to camp on the roof. © Ron Smit, 1999

Vegetable and fruit shopping in Djenne. Check out that mountain of mangoes! © Ron Smit, 1999

After departing from Djenne, we headed towards Mopti, on the Niger river, which also had to be crossed by ferry. Then onwards through the sand, towards Tombouctou.

How some of the locals travel and transport stuff. We actually saw one such caravan where the camels were all carrying huge slabs of salt. © Ron Smit, 1999

Navigating through the Sahel: One lady, two men, one boy, 3 GPS units, one paper map. What could possibly go wrong? Can I call this a road trip if there was actually no road for part of the way? © Ron Smit, 1999

Stopped for lunch. It might look as if we were on a beach, but the sea was VERY far away! © Ron Smit, 1999

And finally, we made it to Tombouctou. Some people that we’ve met elsewhere in the world, seemed to think that it was a make-believe exotic place that only exists in Donald Duck comics, but it is a place with a fascinating history, that I may discuss elsewhere, later.

Evidence that we made it. My family and I, in Tombouctou. © Ron Smit, 1999

Our team, somewhere in the desert. © Ron Smit, 1999

I plan to write a much longer story about this expedition one day. Perhaps a small book? But I need time, I need to decipher some of my scribbled notes made during the trip, and I need access to pictures made by fellow travelers. Perhaps it will become a joint effort, who knows.

But I wanted to give a little taster of our trip to Tombouctou. Hope you liked the pictures! Can you almost feel the sun on the skin and taste the dust between your teeth? It all comes back to me when I look at pictures like these.