All my flights and connections worked perfectly, and my only slight complaint would be that both the window seats my travel agent booked for me were over the wings, so no view! The food was fabulous, and tho I didn't have any, there was free wine and beer with the meal! Unheard of in this day of parsimonious airlines!
The airport is tiny, only one baggage carousel, but they had buses to take us from the plane to the terminal! A really nice touch.
Exiting the terminal I was immediately swarmed by money changers and taxi drivers. Since I had no CFAs, the Central African Franc used in all 3 countries, I took advantage of their services and changed 70 Euros. The rate they offered, 650 CFA per Euro, turned out to be almost identical to the banks'. After a bit of an argument/discussion with the taxi driver over the fare (he wanted 20 Euros, but eventually settled for 5000 CFA) I was driven to the Chez Tatayi Hotel, where I booked an air-conditioned room for the night. I left my bag there and then my taxi driver drove me to the SNTV bus terminal to buy my ticket to Maradi for the next morning, 7300 CFA, before driving me back to the hotel. He promised to return in the morning at 4.30 am to take me back to the bus station, gave me his phone number, and refused to take any payment yet.
After a very welcome cold shower, I went to bed early. I didn't sleep very well, between nerves and the very loud (but effective) air conditioner, and woke easily to the combination of my wristwatch alarm and the travel alarm. I went and sat outside on the step with a man I took to be the night watchman, and my taxi duly turned up at 4.30 and drove me to the bus station. I gave him the 20 Euros he'd originally asked for, still an overpayment I know, but he had been very helpful. He seemed very pleased.
While waiting for the bus, I gave several little children the Canada pins that I'd got from my MP, Royal Gallipeau. I had noticed the previous day that all the women I saw were wearing head coverings, either hijabs or traditional patterned headdresses, so that morning I had donned one of the hijabs I'd bought, the one-piece light blue one. It made me feel more comfortable socially, tho it was very hot. When the bus arrived a young woman, the only one who'd arrived not wearing a headscarf, grabbed my hand and pulled me to the front of the line. She insisted I sit next to her. I had to put my knapsack under the bus as it wouldn't fit under the seat or in the overhead rack.
It took about 9 hours to reach Maradi. There were several stops along the route where people could get down, stretch their legs, buy food or drink, or pray. I started off in the middle seat in a row of three, squished between the friendly young woman, whose name turned out to be Latifa, and a large, older woman with a little boy of about 3. When we got back on after the first stop tho, Latifa insisted I take the window seat. The bus supposedly had air conditioning, but it fought a losing battle between the outside heat and the hot, sweaty bodies on the bus.
Talk about a real test for one's deodorant! The temperature was about 42 degrees Celsius. I had a bottle of water I'd got on the plane, and I had a cold can of coke at one of the stops, and a bottle of Fanta at another.
The countryside appeared fairly arid, but despite this there were men hoeing out fields all along the road, for millet Latifa told me. The round earthen or woven huts I saw everywhere were for storing the millet Latifa said. The actual villages were enclosed in red plastered brick walls, and were often quite substantial. Livestock was everywhere - goats, sheep, donkeys, long-horned cattle, chickens, camels and guinea fowl. Lots of donkey carts, and ox carts hauling just about everything. Bicycles and 125 cc motorcycles zipping everywhere. At every village the road was lined with tiny shanty-style shops selling everything from food and drink to scrap metal, furniture and much more. Every village also had a speed bump or two as well to slow traffic.
We reached Maradi about 3.30 and I got a shared taxi to the Hotel Larewa -only 250 CFA! I got an air-conditioned room, very basic, just a bed, air con and fan, with an ensuite bathroom (but no seat on the toilet, which didn't flush very well, either) no sink but a shower. I had a much-needed cold shower, got the receptionist to help me call World Vision to report my safe arrival, then went out in search of a bank and a cyber cafe. I walked back out to the main road and walked back in the general direction of the bus station. I found several Western Union offices, but they wouldn't change money. One suggested I try Eco Bank. I asked a policeman standing on a earby corner for directions, and he kindly did so. However, before I got to the Eco Bank I tried one last WU office, and they changed 100 Euros for me.
Since it was by now almost 6pm, I returned to the hotel for another cold shower and an early night. En route I stopped at a roadside stand and had a cold bottle of Pepsi.
In the morning I got up and had another shower, then at 9 went to the reception and made the (foolish) decision to switch to an un-airconditioned room to save money, and paid for my one air-con and two un-aircon night (15,500 plus 2x 7,500);I moved my bag to the new room and then went out again in search of a) a bus ticket back to Niamey b) a cyber cafe and last, but not least c) food!
I retraced the route back to the SNTV bus station and purchased a ticket to Niamey for Thursday morning - cheaper than the ticket out, only 6850 CFA and the bus leaves later, at 8 am. I found two cyber cafes, but both told me the internet was down. I asked another policeman for directions to a restaurant and he sent me to a nearby hotel where I was able to get a plain omelet and bread, for 1000 CFA. On my way back to my hotel, I bought a roll of toilet paper (none in my hotel), a bar of soap and a large bottle of water; I also stopped at a little roadside stand near the hotel and had a cold bottle of Mirinda orange soda and a little bag of water that I filled my AF bottle from.
I spent the middle of the day dowsing myself with lukewarm water from the shower and then lying naked under the fan, trying to stay cool. I almost passed out twice fom the heat, once in the bathroom and once in the bedroom. At 4.30 pm I got dressed again to go out to see if the internet was up at either of the cyber cafes, but didn't get far. As I was leaving the hotel I was waylaid by the receptionist who said WV had called, but hadn't left a message. After a little confusion, I got through to them, and Noel Laly Albert, my contact, said they would like to come and see me, and could I wait for them at the hotel. About 20 minutes later, they turned up in their white Landcruiser, and we went and sat in a lounge I'd discovered in the section of the hotel on the other side of the road. After an exchange of greetings and pleasantries, they asked me why I was staying at the Hotel Larewa, and not the Maradi Guest House as they had suggested. I said it was simple - I couldn't afford the Guest House. They were appalled by the Larewa, and insisted on putting me up at the Guest House, at their expense. Weakeded by the heat of the afternoon, I finally agreed, altho I fully intend to repay them once I get back to Canada. They told me to pack my bag and they would be back to fetch me shortly. While I waited for them I sat outside, and a school across the road from the hotel let out (it was now 6 pm). At first the children just wished me Bon Soir, but soon some got their courage up and I was surrounded by a swarm of little girls and boys all wanting me to take their picture. It was fun until a stern old man chased them all off.
Noel Albert soon arrived and whisked me off to the (comparatively) decadent luxury of the Maradi Guest House. My room had a huge canopied (with a mosquito net) bed, two arm chairs, an ensuite bathroom with sink, tub, shower, flushing toilet, and even toilet paper! After seeing me checked in, Mr. Albert said he would see me the following morning around 9 am. I had the cheapest supper on the menu at the hotel's fairly pricey restaurant, then went to bed.
The airport is tiny, only one baggage carousel, but they had buses to take us from the plane to the terminal! A really nice touch.
Exiting the terminal I was immediately swarmed by money changers and taxi drivers. Since I had no CFAs, the Central African Franc used in all 3 countries, I took advantage of their services and changed 70 Euros. The rate they offered, 650 CFA per Euro, turned out to be almost identical to the banks'. After a bit of an argument/discussion with the taxi driver over the fare (he wanted 20 Euros, but eventually settled for 5000 CFA) I was driven to the Chez Tatayi Hotel, where I booked an air-conditioned room for the night. I left my bag there and then my taxi driver drove me to the SNTV bus terminal to buy my ticket to Maradi for the next morning, 7300 CFA, before driving me back to the hotel. He promised to return in the morning at 4.30 am to take me back to the bus station, gave me his phone number, and refused to take any payment yet.
After a very welcome cold shower, I went to bed early. I didn't sleep very well, between nerves and the very loud (but effective) air conditioner, and woke easily to the combination of my wristwatch alarm and the travel alarm. I went and sat outside on the step with a man I took to be the night watchman, and my taxi duly turned up at 4.30 and drove me to the bus station. I gave him the 20 Euros he'd originally asked for, still an overpayment I know, but he had been very helpful. He seemed very pleased.
While waiting for the bus, I gave several little children the Canada pins that I'd got from my MP, Royal Gallipeau. I had noticed the previous day that all the women I saw were wearing head coverings, either hijabs or traditional patterned headdresses, so that morning I had donned one of the hijabs I'd bought, the one-piece light blue one. It made me feel more comfortable socially, tho it was very hot. When the bus arrived a young woman, the only one who'd arrived not wearing a headscarf, grabbed my hand and pulled me to the front of the line. She insisted I sit next to her. I had to put my knapsack under the bus as it wouldn't fit under the seat or in the overhead rack.
It took about 9 hours to reach Maradi. There were several stops along the route where people could get down, stretch their legs, buy food or drink, or pray. I started off in the middle seat in a row of three, squished between the friendly young woman, whose name turned out to be Latifa, and a large, older woman with a little boy of about 3. When we got back on after the first stop tho, Latifa insisted I take the window seat. The bus supposedly had air conditioning, but it fought a losing battle between the outside heat and the hot, sweaty bodies on the bus.
Talk about a real test for one's deodorant! The temperature was about 42 degrees Celsius. I had a bottle of water I'd got on the plane, and I had a cold can of coke at one of the stops, and a bottle of Fanta at another.
The countryside appeared fairly arid, but despite this there were men hoeing out fields all along the road, for millet Latifa told me. The round earthen or woven huts I saw everywhere were for storing the millet Latifa said. The actual villages were enclosed in red plastered brick walls, and were often quite substantial. Livestock was everywhere - goats, sheep, donkeys, long-horned cattle, chickens, camels and guinea fowl. Lots of donkey carts, and ox carts hauling just about everything. Bicycles and 125 cc motorcycles zipping everywhere. At every village the road was lined with tiny shanty-style shops selling everything from food and drink to scrap metal, furniture and much more. Every village also had a speed bump or two as well to slow traffic.
We reached Maradi about 3.30 and I got a shared taxi to the Hotel Larewa -only 250 CFA! I got an air-conditioned room, very basic, just a bed, air con and fan, with an ensuite bathroom (but no seat on the toilet, which didn't flush very well, either) no sink but a shower. I had a much-needed cold shower, got the receptionist to help me call World Vision to report my safe arrival, then went out in search of a bank and a cyber cafe. I walked back out to the main road and walked back in the general direction of the bus station. I found several Western Union offices, but they wouldn't change money. One suggested I try Eco Bank. I asked a policeman standing on a earby corner for directions, and he kindly did so. However, before I got to the Eco Bank I tried one last WU office, and they changed 100 Euros for me.
Since it was by now almost 6pm, I returned to the hotel for another cold shower and an early night. En route I stopped at a roadside stand and had a cold bottle of Pepsi.
In the morning I got up and had another shower, then at 9 went to the reception and made the (foolish) decision to switch to an un-airconditioned room to save money, and paid for my one air-con and two un-aircon night (15,500 plus 2x 7,500);I moved my bag to the new room and then went out again in search of a) a bus ticket back to Niamey b) a cyber cafe and last, but not least c) food!
I retraced the route back to the SNTV bus station and purchased a ticket to Niamey for Thursday morning - cheaper than the ticket out, only 6850 CFA and the bus leaves later, at 8 am. I found two cyber cafes, but both told me the internet was down. I asked another policeman for directions to a restaurant and he sent me to a nearby hotel where I was able to get a plain omelet and bread, for 1000 CFA. On my way back to my hotel, I bought a roll of toilet paper (none in my hotel), a bar of soap and a large bottle of water; I also stopped at a little roadside stand near the hotel and had a cold bottle of Mirinda orange soda and a little bag of water that I filled my AF bottle from.
I spent the middle of the day dowsing myself with lukewarm water from the shower and then lying naked under the fan, trying to stay cool. I almost passed out twice fom the heat, once in the bathroom and once in the bedroom. At 4.30 pm I got dressed again to go out to see if the internet was up at either of the cyber cafes, but didn't get far. As I was leaving the hotel I was waylaid by the receptionist who said WV had called, but hadn't left a message. After a little confusion, I got through to them, and Noel Laly Albert, my contact, said they would like to come and see me, and could I wait for them at the hotel. About 20 minutes later, they turned up in their white Landcruiser, and we went and sat in a lounge I'd discovered in the section of the hotel on the other side of the road. After an exchange of greetings and pleasantries, they asked me why I was staying at the Hotel Larewa, and not the Maradi Guest House as they had suggested. I said it was simple - I couldn't afford the Guest House. They were appalled by the Larewa, and insisted on putting me up at the Guest House, at their expense. Weakeded by the heat of the afternoon, I finally agreed, altho I fully intend to repay them once I get back to Canada. They told me to pack my bag and they would be back to fetch me shortly. While I waited for them I sat outside, and a school across the road from the hotel let out (it was now 6 pm). At first the children just wished me Bon Soir, but soon some got their courage up and I was surrounded by a swarm of little girls and boys all wanting me to take their picture. It was fun until a stern old man chased them all off.
Noel Albert soon arrived and whisked me off to the (comparatively) decadent luxury of the Maradi Guest House. My room had a huge canopied (with a mosquito net) bed, two arm chairs, an ensuite bathroom with sink, tub, shower, flushing toilet, and even toilet paper! After seeing me checked in, Mr. Albert said he would see me the following morning around 9 am. I had the cheapest supper on the menu at the hotel's fairly pricey restaurant, then went to bed.
Glad to here from you, we were a teeny bit worried! All is well at the homestead.
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