This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: A la poursuite de l'aventure 5

^{As my primary language is not English, there are probably some mistakes in my translation.}

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (@vcelier), but @terresco, a French guy.

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Mali opened to us after a series of formalities worthy of a book alone. In the discharge of the respective administrations it was neither in our name nor our nationality and of course we had not taken the precaution of making our visas for Mali before leaving. It was the country where we thought we would profitably sell our old Mercedes bought in Germany, reworked in France and which had been going for too long on the sandy tracks of southern Algeria (see previous article).

The arrival in Mali gave us a lot of hope to conclude this adventure as planned. We were tired. Tired of this complicated and sometimes monotonous progression; tired of the stress of the permanent breakdown always threatening; tired of the fear of getting lost in the deserts desert, tired of the heat and the daily privations.

* * * * *

Where we change ... without changing

The customs officer opening us the symbolic door of the country opened for us a period of euphoria, a pleasant state but as intense as brief. Changing countries would not change our lives immediately. The border, traced to the ruler on the map of Africa, so astonishing by its rightness, did not change the geography as a natural boundary would have done, like a mountain or sometimes a river. We realized it from the first silting up, we had done barely a kilometer and the routine regained its rights. Remove the sand plates, dig, move forward, add water to the radiator and start again.

It would be lying to pretend that there was not a little discouragement. How could we have been so naive, so misinformed? We had focused so much on this important goal, generating our daily motivation for achieving it that we had forgotten it was only an intermediate goal. However, we had little choice. No pause button to press to return to the starting point, no joker to leave the adventure, no satellite phone or other beacon. Going back was as complicated as continuing. By will or by force it was necessary to continue or to die on the spot.

We decided for the first solution which allows me to tell it today. It is in these cases that we are happy not to be alone but with a friend with whom to share the difficulties. If one was discouraged the other took things in hand and vice versa. The next objective has appeared over the hours, it has emerged as evidence of our worn road map of Africa. It was necessary to arrive to Bourem Cercle then Gao; we estimated the distance to about 500 kilometers.

Where we approach the Niger River

At this level of adventure I had lost count of days, all were alike, all were identical. It must be said that when you are a student you enjoy a long vacation and that, if you miss the start, this is not a tragedy either. At the Bourem Cercle, which we finally reached, we found a deserted hamlet, sorry. However, we were returning to the influence zone of the Niger River, making its long loop in the Sahara which will push it finally towards the south in a titanic struggle between sand and water. For us it meant that we had defeated the Sahara, where the Niger River had failed we had succeeded.

A gentleman showed up, even before we became aware of our arrival. He proposed to buy the car. The traffic was much more intense than we thought. Very friendly at first, he was threatened with our refusal. He claimed to control the car market coming from Europe from Gao to Bamako. He was threatening to make sure that no one would buy our car if we refused it. For our plans it was too early we did the hardest we wanted to get to Gao at a minimum. In addition the price offered did not satisfy us. Claiming to go as far as Togo, we managed, with great difficulty, to get rid of the importunate personage.

Bourem Cercle to Gao was a small step that we surmounted with the enthusiasm that you can imagine. Gao was a city, the first in a long time, nice for its geography. But Gao was a victim of gangs of armed thieves who attacked cars, the police advised to leave the car in their backyard for the night. It was actually especially true for off-road cars but we did as we were told.

Where we are separated from our Mercedes

We were approaching the decision, either to sell now or to go much further south by roads that are now easy and paved for the most part. The second solution was the most profitable, we could sell for a higher price and very close to an airport to manage our return to the university that was waiting for us. It had a disadvantage, however, we wanted to visit Timbuktu, still distant and inaccessible with our car. At that time, I was not at all wary of the often unjustified appeal of these mythical names, and even less so that I would have much later the opportunity to return to these regions.

Seeing our hesitation, a buyer who strangely had spotted the car in the police backyard offered us a price accompanied by a trip from Gao to Timbuktu and Timbuktu to Bamako via Mopti, Djenné ... The price, once fiercely negotiated, was obviously not what we could have hoped for but enough to pay for the end of the trip and the return tickets. We accepted after an evening of deliberation to separate ourselves from our Mercedes with a twinge of heart. The next day, money in pocket, or rather in the bag (there was no big banknotes and the amount represented a certain volume), we boarded a truck that left to deliver pasta, coming from Libya or Tunisia, I did not understand well, towards the mythical city.

* * * * *

We just had to follow the course of the Niger River, in the direction of its source so far away. We had to go back to Bourem Cercle where we made ourselves discreet to avoid a meeting with our rejected and aggressive buyer. The track was silted but we were no longer responsible for our vehicle. What a pleasure to let ourself live without thinking about all these problems of engine temperature, to put water, to refresh I know not what, to repair a puncture, to remove sand ... The vision of the river from afar was reassuring: water is life and instinctively we feel it.

Timbuktu was waiting for us and we were enjoying the trip.

Continue to Part 6

-- @terresco

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4