tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-155485362011-06-02T21:57:27.950-05:00Jonnoreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-31800453687236242007-05-15T11:48:00.003-05:002008-12-08T23:54:16.729-05:00

per usual we awoke at half five with the sun already up, though not yet hot. alex and i were keen to hike to the cliffs that were visible across a few verdant kilometres outside of douentza. we took off down the road, eventually settling on a dirt road that went in the general direction, between some houses and into the fields behind. the cliffs were of a size and at a distance so as to appear

Jonnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-6147919355236666672007-04-23T03:55:00.000-05:002008-12-08T23:54:17.152-05:00

we awoke restless in the desert - early, because we had booked seats in a 7am 4x4 (quatre-quatre, or cat-cat) to douentza, from where we would stage our trek into dogon country. we grumbled a bit about timbuktu's limited tourist potential when "sleeping under the saharan stars" meant being swarmed by beetles, scorpions and mangy (but cuddly) kittens as you huddled together for warmth on a plastic

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-30296351088221960342007-04-22T08:02:00.000-05:002008-12-08T23:54:18.064-05:00

i left off (ages ago) as we departed by camel into the sahara north of timbuktu, led by tuaregs in midnight blue robes. the sawing of the camel saddles chafed uncomfortably. in a way, i was glad we were only doing 2 of our promised 10km. flies swarmed around the camels ears, around your feet propped crosswise in the crook of its neck; its head yaws left and right and you creak back and forth

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160947461046968982006-10-15T16:12:00.000-05:002006-10-15T16:24:21.056-05:00

alex examines his mounteasy there, boy!we set off as the sun was setting, after a lengthy dispute about our return time the next day; in order to get a taxi out of timbuktu to get to douentza - a 7 hour 4x4 trek through the desert (well, the plains, anyway, but on a dirt road) - we would have to leave early in the morning - or so we were told; this meant, we would have to return earlier than we

Jonnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160693902023514712006-10-12T17:45:00.000-05:002006-10-12T17:59:20.376-05:00

alex and i woke up early to wander the town before the desert heat. the hotel at which we were staying - desert paradise, or something - was literally on the edge of town, before the brick buildings disappeared and a slim band of tuareg skin tents separated us from a practical infinite desert to the north. at this border, a monument, commemorating the cease fire between tuareg rebels and the

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160344954482805372006-10-08T16:57:00.000-05:002006-10-08T17:02:34.493-05:00

great sunrises on the riveronce we got further down river, we began to see some sail-pirogues, which were a change from the pervasive hand-poled pirogues.it more or less conveys the passage of time on the boat - cramped quarters (although relatively spacious) - reading books, watching the scenery, suffocating from theheat, trying to catch up on sleep, etc.after 3 days on the river, we finally

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160343892759973482006-10-08T16:32:00.000-05:002006-10-08T16:44:52.770-05:00

this is a montage of the second day of the journey, one of languid reading and attempted sleeping. we were mocked by the rest of the boat for putting up mosquito nets, although the real problem, as previously mentioned, was the total lack of thought that went into our sleeping arrangement. even though we had maybe 3 times as much space as the average african on the boat, i reckon we got about 1

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160343057276290852006-10-08T16:22:00.000-05:002006-10-08T16:30:57.290-05:00

so, the next three days in the series sort of blend together, as we spent them all on the aforementioned cargo pinasse in an area about 10' by 6' full of cement and millet sacks. in theory, the grain sacks are moldable and, carefully laid as they are, create something of a flat floor surface upon which you can sleep, eat, etc. in reality, they are a treacherous geography of crevices and pits in

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160336245536236982006-10-08T14:27:00.000-05:002007-05-21T18:36:53.540-05:00

djenne's an old town with lots of great muslim architecture, all in mud. it has a great big library of islamic texts and many large mansions as well, all of which bear windows and doors in the moroccan style - heavy wood with ornate metal fastenings and embellishment, for the unsafe times.one of the neat things we did in djenne was take a pirogue across the river (djenne is on an island,

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160334984484852672006-10-08T14:10:00.000-05:002006-10-08T14:16:24.490-05:00

1. mopti is sort of like a regional capital, a beautiful city situated on an inland delta of the niger river - the old quarter streets snake among substantial mud-brick mansions and dilapidated mud-brick compounds. the new quarter port is extremely active with small hand-poled pirogues and larger, motorized pinasses. besides walking around the town, we were in mopti to negotiate passage by

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1160334468472642372006-10-08T14:00:00.000-05:002006-10-08T14:09:24.603-05:00

taxi stand at ouahigouya: it's about the middle of the day, andwe've been traveling since 6 in the morning on a bus. now, because weheard rumors that roads were washed out due to rain, the bus hasdeclined to continue further and we have to catch the bush taxi!that's our taxi in the background, a mini van which will eventuallyhold 16 people + gear.sarah beset by vendors at the burkina/mali border

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1124456786302884592005-08-19T08:02:00.000-05:002005-08-19T08:06:26.306-05:00

san sebastian in the winter is a quiet city by the sea, large but not menacing. its buildings are of nearly uniform height and in the narrow streets of certain districts rise like delicately sculptered walls. walking through the parte vieja at night can be like navigating an ancient, deserted maze. the height of the buildings and angular streets disguise the relatively small size of the old city,

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15548536.post-1124378526289479482005-08-18T10:18:00.000-05:002005-08-18T14:32:31.160-05:00

I remember reading a travel narrative about dining in Spain and thinking The best job in the world is to be paid to travel, eat, and then write about it. The writing was bad, however. And an article I read later in the New York Times seemed to be more of a boondoggle for a well-known columnist and her sister than a true exploration of Aruba on $2,000 a day. I cannot make guarantees as to the

Jonnoreply@blogger.com0