Photos of Dogon Country, Mali

shower block



view down to a dwelling complete with tree

the village inn - I slept on the roof

grain stores, rainy season dwellings

the village

the best room in the village

walking towards the village

view across the planes

mud mosque and trees

tourist map

entrance to Dogon Country

Click here for aerial view

French in denial

In Bamako, being a big heaving market city, there are lots of people trying to get your attention. Generally one tries to avoid them but sometimes, one gets pulled into conversation. For example:

Passing young man: Bonjour, comment vous appelez vous?

Me: Je parle pas Français

Young man (with a grin) : Mais tu me comprends et peux dire "Je ne parle pas Français"

Me: Oui, c'est le seule phrase je comprends et peut dire.

Young man (bemused): Ah, okay.

French Speaking?

Speaking a little French, I enjoyed talking to the people of those central African countries where French is also the second language of much of the population.

I remember waking up in our tents in that part of Mali, where the soil is red and people infrequent, to learn that we were short of diesel due to a fuel tank leak. As we pulled onto the road from the bush, I spotted a young man walking along the road and it was decided that I should ask him where the nearest petrol station might be.

The conversation went like this:

Me: Bonjour

Youth: Bonjour

Me: Nous avons un petit problème et nous avons besoin de trouver de l’essence.

Youth: Bien sur, à 31 kilomètres

Me: Splendide, merci beaucoup

Youth: De rien, est ce que vous avez une cigarette?

Me: Non, désolé, nous ne fumons pas.

Youth: De l’eau?

Me: Pardon, nous n’avons ni de l’essence ni de l’eau. Je suis désolé

Youth: Okay, bonne chance

Needless to say 31 km later, we find a stall selling petrol; how he knew it was 31km away, I don’t know. Pity we didn't even have any water for him.

Memories after the event – The Niger in Mali

My first memory will be of the river trip that I took en route with my 2 Australian travelling companions. We took the boat from Mopti which is a heaving city/town on the Niger. Although Mopti is a long way from the sea, the river is surprisingly wide at this point considering it’s got a few thousand miles to go before it empties into the Atlantic in Nigeria. The river had started just 150 miles from the sea but headed first for the Sahara before turning east towards where our boat was waiting.
Mopti has hundreds of long wooden boats powered by outboards or teenagers with poles. Maybe 2 dozen of them are for tourists and ours has 2 crew and the 3 of us so there’s luxury in terms of space. It’s even got a toilet which is a cubicle at the front of the boat with a hole to the river below. It has a tin can on a piece of string, not to act as a telephone but to act as a receptacle for water for washing/flushing purposes. There’s palm weave flooring and a roof and curtains for shade. The boat goes slowly and quietly on the slow waters heading notionally down river but the flow is so slow you can’t really tell. We pass vastly overloaded boats and boats owned by individual families who live on board stopping for fishing or to wash clothes or trade

We pull into 2 riverside villages which are interesting for their mud mosques; the children there follow you around, holding your hand, but slightly erksome with their requests for cadeaux, bics or argent.

Our lunch stop location however is much more relaxing. We pull up onto the sandy Northern shore of the river. Little can be seen apart from some temporary huts that have been constructed by the nomadic people and which will disappear into the river when the rainy season arrives. Lunch has been cooked with vegetables being chopped with a machete and cooked in the pot on the onboard charcoal fire as we went along. It’s hot but the boat is low enough for hands to be dangled in the water and there’s a canopy to provide shade. After lunch we notice 5 boys of around 8 years old who are eyeing the boat from a distance. It takes them about 30 mins to get close enough to see that we are friendly. Joe gives one of them a boiled sweet (okay, not my idea of a good idea, but whatever). It is shared with his friends being passed from mouth to mouth – it’s going to last a long time as it’s still in its wrapper and to be honest, when they try it without the wrapper they don’t seem that much more impressed. Maybe it’s like me being given a sheep’s eyeball as a delicacy. After a while, the stares of the children become poses for the camera and then there’s swimming and acrobatics in the water. We don’t have a ball but an improvised game of “piggy in the middle” takes place using a filled water bottle.

When it’s time to go, after a few hours sitting in the still water, the 5 children push us off of the sand and back towards Mopti. More tea is drunk in a 5 stage process where the tea gets stronger and sweeter as the sun sets; silhouetting donkeys and more mosques as it does.

Memories after the event

I’ve been back for a few months now. I decided one Monday morning that it was time to return but as I boarded the next flight on the Saturday, I wished I wasn’t. I realise that when I was actually in Ghana, the experiences that I was having temporarily removed the thoughts of the experiences that I encountered on the way there. I’ve just found some notes that I made in various bits of Saharan Africa however, so, keen to recycle the paper and reduce clutter, I thought I’d commit the thoughts thereon to a couple of blog entries. I shall start with Memory 1.

Jungle Walk

Went for a walk out of the other end of the village today. It's about a 10 mile loop to go out to the next village and back round to come back via the other road but that was a bit far to undertake by the time I left. I'd knocked out a quick design for a new canteen before lunch (2 mono pitched "wings" with goat-slide roof since you ask. One "wing" joins the other at a jaunty angle taking advantage of 2 different floor levels so that one roof can oversail the other forming a porch for both; if that makes any sense. Perhaps I should enter it into the Hyde Park Pavilion competition). Anyway, the walk took me out past farms farmed by the community and into a rolling jungle landscape reminiscent of a never ending Winkworth Arboretum. Background noise was like a low level dawn chorus – nothing to be heard apart from the birds.

Back with the work gang

First day with a proper work gang today – 4 masons (who happen to be men), 4 masons labourers (who happen to be men), 6 general labourers (who happen to be women). Great to be working with people who know what they are doing when it comes to checking levels, digging trenches, marking lines (we are constructing a drainage channel). To some extent it's a novelty for these people to be working with a bruni (literally: white person but normal applying to non-Ghanaians so a black Londoner would also be a "white person"). They ask questions: about are clothes dried in the UK, do white people fish? When it comes to get the cement from the yet-to-be-stocked-with-books library it becomes apparent that all the cement is missing. Much exclamation on site about this "stolen" cement which is worth about 170 Ghana Cedi (equalling 110 1 litre bottles of Star Beer, 850 portions of rice and stew, or monthly pay for a teacher). The assembly man, who is my interface with the local people, borrows 4 bags from the village to keep people going. Things continue in a manner typical of construction world-wide when it is discovered that there is a wheelbarrow but no wheel. Man cycles off to next village with a wheelbarrow wheel in need of repair but by the time he comes back a complete wheelbarrow has magically appeared. By now it is 1pm so assembly man (in true construction style) is off to the woman who makes fresh doughnuts and returns with 25 of them – very nice too. Work carries on to good standard with me constantly encouraging, "less cement, less water, more mixing". By the end of the day, about 2 tonnes of concrete has been laid which is about a third of the way through.

Enquiries regarding the missing "stolen" cement lead to the suggestion from a child that the cement has been moved for safekeeping. Sure enough, but to my surprise, through the shutters of the primary school storeroom, I see 18 No. 50kg bags of finest Ghana cement.

Viper Day

On site again and due to recent rain, snakes are being found in the grass: a shout from a man pushing his bicycle through some undergrowth and suddenly men are running with clubs (well, hoes actually) suitable for flattening. Apparently the snakes are harmless, unless disturbed.

Sunday 26 April – oh what a lovely day.

Lovely day weather wise today here in Ghana. If only all days in Ghana were like this – dull, overcast, slightly chilly breeze coming off of the sea, no bright sunshine to burn the skin. Fantastic.

Vampirical Research

Noticed first hand evidence today that I'm only 6 degrees from the equator – when you walk at certain times of the day, you don't have a shadow because the sun is almost directly above you. This also means that unless you're bird spotting, the sun doesn't shine in your eyes.

the next land mass to the south of here is made of ice

The beach at Brenu, Ghana

Elders Meeting

Here's a photo (complete with bewildered onlooker) showing some of our party returning with the elders and other local people after the last Elders' meeting.  

Easter Monday Snapshot(s)

So, the Church do in the village square finally comes to an end after 4 days of amplified singing and dancing from 6am to, well, sometime after I've gone to bed. The speakers are packed away and the 30% of the village people who chose to attend have slipped back into their flip-flops and gone back to carrying things on their heads.

Snapshot 1 –

There's meant to be an Easter Beach party at the Brenu Beach Resort and it's been advertised along the coast. Apparently there are 2 chiefs of Brenu village which is a fairly poor fishing village that adjoins the beach resort. There's an incoming chief and an outgoing one. One is in favour of the party and one is not. Trouble is predicted so the 2 volunteers who are lodging at the resort whilst helping out at the Brenu school have been told that the resort kitchen and bar is closing and they should leave in case there is trouble. I arrive at 1030hrs with a view to the 3 of us walking towards Elmina. Indeed there are people dancing about in masks and frilly colourful
outfits. There's also 15 armed police. After a while there's a group of people shouting, "go away" at the dancing people and a bit of pushing and shoving. Police join in and there's a bit of hitting with battens and the pointing of guns. The 3 of us make a semi-casual exit along the beach. Palm trees and peaceful sandy beaches for about 3 miles.

Snapshot 2 –

Pass by the Coconut Grove Beach resort which is pretty posh with bars, dozens of staff, swimming pool, red brick lodges, etc. Obviously this is to be scoffed at as it's mainly for Brunis and rich Ghanaians. They do however have toilets that flush and soap and towels so closer
examination is warranted. Passing along the beach there's a strange sign that says that the resort ends in 300m and that we should enjoy our walk – somehow it suggests that it won't be enjoyable after the first 300m. After 300m the beach turns into the launching place for
fishing boats from the village but also unfortunately into a bit of a human toilet. We turn back after 1km or so and are passing by the Coconut Grove as the sky darkens in a 10 mile radius and there arespits of rain. A reintroduction to decadence is called for as we sit to order sandwiches and chips whilst we await the passing of the rain. 5 mins later the rain and wind is horizontal and everyone is in the corner of the semi-indoor restaurant. Staff are helping shepherd the elderly parents from one family group to the dry. The scene outside is one I've only seen on TV those scenes where one normally sees a hanging traffic light swinging to horizontal in the hurricane force wind. Luckily no one has told the kitchen about the mayhem outside so
our food duly arrives.

Snapshot 3 –

We hear that the party at Brenu was given the permission by the police to proceed so it's decided to go to a different resort as it'll be too noisy at Brenu to spend the evening there. Our regular driver, Osmanu (who picked us up from Mole in North Ghana a few weeks ago) picks us up and on the main road there's an awful lorry/truck accident in the rain and the dark. Reportedly, 15 people have died but it later appears that the number dead is 4. Osmanu – whose accent I'm understanding better now – explains all about Brenu riots and their
causes, the carelessness of the long distance lorry driver, the value of the rain to farmers, the number of women village chiefs (quite a few but no Muslim ones). Osmanu is a Muslim and was surprised to hear that there are Muslims in Britain.

Snapshot 4 -

In the courtyard to the Besease village guest house where we stay, there's a courtyard where I can spend some time, when not working, playing ball with JJ who is Ama's 4 year old brother. JJ is short for Joey Justice and he's the one who's a great drummer. He listens to Itunes on my Laptop if I'm working sometimes (it stops him trying to learn the AutoCAD programme that I'm normally using). He likes to drum along on the table – currently favourites of his are Jungle Boogie and also a Rush track. His brother's name is Rockman. He speaks in short sentences. He's pleased I'm not leaving this weekend.

Work gang update

The work gang is the local farmers who gather to help on local projects. The system is that the village elders decide when community work needs to be done and they instruct the men of the village to turn up on a certain day at a certain place. If a man chooses to go to his farm instead, he is fined a sum of money. In effect this becomes a local tax which can be paid by labour or by cash.

This week however, the elders have in effect announced a tax holiday by decreeing no work needs to be done this week – the reason being, I think, that the Easter week means that the farmers will want to spend the time at their individual farms.

The idea of us being here is to facilitate local improvements, not carry them out, so, as tempting as it is for us to just start digging, we will await the work gang.

A new home

Tuesday Morning as I type this having been awoken at 4am by something or other but now 8am having had breakfast and helped the school children that visit every morning to carry out our chairs which they borrow for school. Been here in Besease for 2 mornings now having moved in on Sunday evening. It's quite a bit noisier here but that's okay. I've set out the profiles for the kindergarten drainage channels and we now await a work gang – probably Wednesday morning.

The weekend

Saturday 4 April. Long time returning from the beach as the road was blocked by lorries carrying (illegal) loads of sand from the beach. The lorries having sunk into the road because of the rains overnight. Georgie, long term volunteer tried to negotiate our access through an
adjoining school but the pupils were adamantly against it, as they feared that the lorries would follow through too.

Nice morning sleep for an hour with fan switched on followed by nice afternoon sleep with beach breeze switched on.

Home for dinner and (first) game of Lexicon.

Saturday 4 April Easter Friday – or is it?

3 April 2009 I don't actually know if it is Easter Friday today as it appears to be here in Egyeigrem but not in Besease where it is promised next week – maybe the people of Besease are planning to be take advantage of out of date and reduced price hot cross buns by celebrating a week late. The other 4 of us here in Egyeigrem are today supervising a football match between this community and the next one plus when I left to walk to the main road at 7am there seemed to be hawkers milling around – these 2 things indicating a bank holiday, possibly Easter Friday.

After walking to the main road I got a TroTro to Kissi which is a biggish community – maybe 900 people - on route for Besease. It was hard enough to say hello or Good Morning to the hundred or so that I passed on my way to town and even harder on the way back to remember
to whom I had spoken. Exposed the foundations of the kindergarten that the drainage channel is being used and they are good, solid and not going to be washed away by rain from the small area of runoff that is to the rear. Nevertheless, a channel will be built. I had a wander around the community testing the GPS system – it will be fine for setting out a plan of the area but the elevation figure jumps in one spot from 20 to 40m above sea level so that's not going to work for
checking levels. Another way will be found.

Back for lunch as we are all going to the beach to camp overnight to celebrate Will's birthday. Should be good, and a bit cooler.

Friday Evening

Friday 3 April –

The afternoon was probably the best part with the 5-year-old brother of Ama – housekeeper at Besease – playing the drum for us on the bus on the way and Ama singing. Then some sea swimming followed by a bit of ad hoc beach volleyball.

Evening consisted of camping following a simple open-air buffet dinner but then having to get shelter when it started to rain in the middle of the night. Lying underneath the stars is great but when you realise that the moon has disappeared there's a chance that rain might soon by coming through the mosquito net. Met a chap, Ben, who I think described himself as British Ghanaian who is completing, with his partner, Suzie, a development of maybe 8 apartments for luxury holidaylets.

Been thinking about and discussing whether the long term happiness of the local people will be enhanced by our upgrading the schools towards Western standards.

Thursday Week 1 of being in Ghana, week 4 or something of being away from home.

2 April 2009 - Took the drawings that I prepared yesterday to a site in Besease (where I'll be staying next week). The drawings relate just to a drainage channel to protect a kindergarten that Sabre finished off for the local community. My only worry is that my specification is to a British standard and the local work force may be used to poorly mixed concrete strengthened by a high cement content rather than the more economical approach of a "well mixed but not too much cement"concrete.
The second part of my work at Besease is the continued examination of the community's drainage problems; these problems are due partly to poor maintenance and more importantly due to the fact that the village is built in a big bowl. Bowls of course are renowned for their ability to hold water: Besease is no exception. Initial hopes are that an area that is currently farmed may be suitable for forming a large lagoon/lake that could take the excess water during the rainy season. 2 problems in working this out: 1) not knowing how much water falls in one go and 2) it's such a vast area that I don't have the equipment to survey it all. I've got hold of a GPS system that shows heights on it, which I will try tomorrow. I'd be amazed if it is that simple – we shall see.
Went to the big town today that is Cape Coast. Came back from the TroTro station which are the 12-seater minibuses that leave to set locations but only when they are full. The station heaves with buses and with hawkers selling, water bags, boiled eggs, doughnuts, pies, packets of biscuits, bread, toothpaste – all being sold from the tops of their heads. It was my first solo trip so I had to find the right bus going to Ayensudu junction and work out which passenger is actually the Tro-boy who takes the money. Although Ghana has English as its official language, most people speak Fanti so there's lots of speaking "English as a foreign language" to work out what's going on. Everyone is friendly and the ones that speak English well use it in a relatively formal way as demonstrated by the chap who got on after me and said, "Good Afternoon to you, why do you not sit at the front?" Anyway, we had a little chat and I lean out the window and attract the girl who has a pan of bags of water on her head. I give her 10 peshwars for a 500ml bag of water, she gives me 5 peshwar back, I give her the coin back and take another bag as I thought they were 10 each. 10 peshwar is about 6p. Half hour later I get out of the bus and walk up a red dust track weaving through tall green palm and banana trees. 30mins later and half a dozen hellos from locals, I've drunk my 6p litre of water and am arriving "home". Feeling really good as I sit down to my lunch that has been saved for me by Mister Ofori.
An hour later, Alice, who is one of the 2 volunteers helping out at the school asks me to come to their newly-initiated Thursday 5pm reading group. Unfortunately for one reason or the other, the children have not been told about the group by the school. This is easily sorted by the 5 of us walking pied piper like through the village, not with pipes but with "Where's the bear" and "Bob the Builder" books. We settle in the community "hall" which is a 12m by 12m roofed but open sided building. About 60 children are there spread between the 5 of us who each have 3 or 4 books each. I get my group spotting animals or vehicles from the books and repeating the noises in the Dr Suess book. After an hour of constant attention from the 12 children sitting on each of us, we form a big circle so that everyone can clap themselves and we can leave for an early dinner on the veranda. The books came on the bus down with us and the children are fascinated by the bright colours and images therein as there is currently just one picture book in school - most of the lessons are just spoken words chalked on a board.

Vegetarian Meat Pies

Cornish pasty style but with a spherical bulge in the middle with shows the boiled egg that is inside. They don't however have any meat in them. Everyone seems to like them and the pastry looks good but I'm yet to be tempted.

Another Photo

Hey look - photos

Dwabor

Now safely in Ghana and after a relaxed induction – introductions to locals, swimming, food etc. I've this morning had my first assignment in what seems to me to be a jungle village of Dwabor. I've been using a site level to survey the levels of Sabre's construction site for a new kindergarten school. 50 to 60 men are clearing the undergrowth with machetes and picks so I had plenty of helpers when it came to set up the laser level that I brought from home. I started at 6.30 and it felt like 11 by the time I finished due to the heat increasing hour by hour.

Off to Besease tomorrow for the elders meeting at 8am where I'll be introduced prior to starting to look at drainage issues next week.

3 men in a boat (and us)

Back from a river cruise on the Niger yesterday - cool breeze - slow boat - Mailian music - women washing clothes - men fishing with nets from long boats - nomad children playing in water - relaxed interaction with locals vegetable stew for lunch - sunset over mosque made of mud. A good day. Writing this in an Internet cafe before we go off to Dogon country to sleep out over night. Lots of photos taken and more blogging to be done soon maybe.

Moubachok?

Where? It's the capital of Mauritania which is a very nice country - hot with friendly people. Currently sitting in a tent in a camping ground that's the car park of an auberge so we get to use their facilities. Just about to have dinner and hoping to find a wifi connections so that I can send this...........
All well but Internet connection difficult and signal but No Access on UK mobiles.

Towards Mali

All going well after being towed out off the desert last night by a giant lorry that stopped at 0200hrs: Should cross south towards Bamako tomorrow:

 

Still no mobile connection qnd not read any of your emqils but hope to soon:

 

PS Open Internet connection so expect spam pretending to be me

 

PS q = a

All going well - am at Tan Tan near West Sahara border

That big tower in Marrakesh

 

Marrakech sights

 

Gateway to the South

So here it is. The new Tanger station where I get to buy my £28 ticket to Marrakesh before climbing onto my couchette for the 8 hour journey ahead.

Integrated Transport Systems

The welcome to Tanger was as anticipated with numerous offers of something called Taxi Hashish. The railway tracks were removed from between the port, where it previously integrated with the incoming boats, and the now terminus station, Tanger Ville. Doing so, has released a swathe of development land running parallel to the beach. It means quite a long walk along out of the port and then along the seafront but on the plus side one gets to see the posters showing forthcoming developments, as you can see from the photo.    

Dire Straits of Gibraltar

Uneventful Wednesday evening stay in a hotel in Algeciras followed by very windy crossing to Tanger. The ferry captain may well have honed his skills in a dinghy judging by the angle of the boat at some points.

 

Good to be back to speaking French on the boat although everything is written in Arabic script too.

 

 

 

Pace of life

Windy morning here in Algeciras and off to Morocco now, well after breakfast. I expect the speed of travel will start to slow. 

pub del lugar anyone?

Where was I – oh yes, North France, mid France, South France, North Spain, mid Spain and now heading south from Madrid to Algeciras which is the port of choice for those Morocco bound.

As mentioned earlier, the best part of these Spanish trains is the bar that takes up most of a carriage (or coche). I was glancing through the provided newspaper there – which isn't really a good idea as the Spanish then assume that you can understand the language – when I came across the headline on the obituaries page: "Pauline Fowler: La actriz que batio la UEFA". Of course it's not Pauline Fowler who has died, it's Wendy Richards. Why a Spanish newspaper saw fit to dedicate half a page, I'm not sure but my own translation reveals that her parents ran a "pub del lugar" in Yorkshire before starting another venture in London in "el mercardo de shepherds" – or Shepherds Market as those that know that part of London would call it. Perhaps some of my Spanish speaking friends might advise on what makes a "pub del lugar".

The train in Spain

After my bocadillo de patatas y tea and pastry for breakfast at Irun station, I'm now on the train - very spacious and modern but the internal lighting is much too bright to easily see the Pyrenees slipping by outside.

The guard has been through with complimentary headphones but no complimentary "those black bits of cloth that Victorian photographers used to use" that I could attach to the window so I could see the scenery.

Since typing the above, I've discovered the train bar (for a cup of tea of course, it's only 10.30 am) The lighting is less harsh and the decor light and airy - stainless steel bar rails and granite type bar tops against the windows to lean on and take in the passing scenery. It's a lovely feel of
being on a modern 80% empty train on a weekday.

We'll always have Paris

Of course to get to Spain by train one has to get off of the Eurostar and change to a TGV. In Paris this meant getting the Metro to Gare Austerlitz.

I find that generally it takes me a day to remember whatever I know of the local language in order to be able to put it into use. This trip of course means that the 1 day delay is of little use as I'm moving from one language to another, then to another, then back to the second one (but with a North African accent). Explaining to the sous-chef de gare that I needed him to print my ticket as their machines were not accepting my code was fine. However, small talk with my fellow travellers once on the TGV was rubbish.

It almost didn't occur to me that I could pop out from Austerlitz to soak up some non-railway station Paris. The station is next to the Seine and the Eiffel tower was visible from the bridge - I like to think that the next bridge was the pont neuf from "Les amants de pont neuf" but no waterskiers were in the river so maybe not (it's from the film, you know)

Into the night

Well, the Eurostar was as expected: dated luxury and passengers returning to their allocated seats after a fresh lot of Paris bound travellers board at Ebbsfleet. Of course it was dark as I left London (in fact, dark all the way) so still don't know where or how the train traverses the Thames although obviously it must do so now it goes from St Pancras.

I've started having some thoughts about charity and different approaches but I'm trying not to formalise my thoughts on the subject yet as although this trip is all about my experiencing charitable and voluntary work at the coal face, as it were, it's only day one.

First Time Blog, First Post

Well, it's the first time that I've written a blog and next Tuesday will be the first time that I'll have set off from St Pancras looking forward not just to Pan au Chocolate but also to Couscous, the national dishes of Mali, Mauritania, Burkina Faso and ultimately Kenkey & Fufu. Kenkey & Fufu being the dishes of my ultimate destination of Ghana rather than glove puppets from Saturday morning children's television.

The first requirement before writing a blog is to come up with a suitable title. The first call is to look for cheesy puns or plays on song titles. Obviously.

I’ve rejected, "Morocco Bound" partly because not everyone is familiar with the film "Road to Morocco" (where, like Webster’s’ Dictionary, Bob Hope and Bing Crosby were Morocco Bound) and also, somewhat more relevantly, because I’ll only be bound for Morocco for a week of the next 8 and after that Marrakech will be but a distant memory. Also decided against a title formed by replacing the word "gonna" in various song titles with the word "Ghana" e.g. "I’m Ghana sit right down and write myself a letter/blog". As you will by now know, I chose instead the alluring alliteration that is "Gomshall to Ghana".

Anyway, the gist of my trip is that I shall be working with the good people of the "Sabre Charitable Trust" who are at this moment filling a second hand mini bus with donated school books, teddy bears and sports kit. The Sabre Trust works with local people to implement Ghana’s education strategy. I shall be meeting the bus in Marrakech for the 3 week trip to Ghana. The bus is then donated to a community so that the students can go on geography field trips to study oxbow lakes or challenge the next school at conkers or whatever. I’ll then be staying in Ghana to design or (at the very least) comment on improvements to surface water and other infrastructure for a community there. I hope to be able to devise something, infrastructure wise, so that there are reduced instances of children being sick because of insect carried infections – the insects currently making whoopee in the standing water.

I’ve tried not to research my trip too thoroughly, I’ll see whatever I see when I get there. However I’ve picked up snippets through conversation: I’ve been disappointed to learn that Timbuktu has got an international airport – a similar disappointment to learning that Outer Mongolia is on the Circle Line. I’ve learnt that African bureaucracy is inefficient: indeed the nice man at the Ghana High Commission told me that I’d get my visa in 4 working days but it actually took 3. The Sahara is apparently very cold at night and Ghana very hot at night; we shall see.