The previous evening, on my return to Niamey, I had been directed to the driver of the Ouaga bus to buy my ticket. The Ouaga buses were a different company, STMB. The driver had told me the bus would be leaving at 6 am, and I should be at the station about 5:30 am, when loading and boarding would commence.
This was the first and only bus to actually leave pretty much on time. Unlike the SNTV buses, this was a battered old veteran that made no pretence of being air-conditioned. It was also less than half full, so I was able to take my bag on board with me, and put it on the empty seat next to me. This time I sat on the opposite side of the bus, in one of the two-seat rows. Across the aisle from me the three-seat row was occupied by two well-built older women in traditional dress. After my sweltering experiences on the buses to and from Maradi, I had not worn the hijab this time, and now I wondered if this might have contributed to the attack that morning. Would the man have still tried to steal my bag if I had been wearing the hijab? I guess I will never know.
Several of the women on this bus were not wearing head-coverings, and in fact, once we reached Burkina Faso, over two thirds of the women I saw did not wear any kind of head covering, either hijab or traditional African headwraps.
We crossed the Niger border fairly soon after leaving Niamey and crossing the Niger River. We were told to get off the bus and hand over our documents to a soldier, who took them off to a nearby office. About ten minutes later, he brought back all the identity cards, but not the passports. Those of us with passports (about 3 other than myself) were directed to the office, where we were handed the passports and told we were free to go. We walked across the border and climbed back on the bus. It was at least another 20 km before we reached the Burkina Faso border. Here we handed over our documents and those of us with passports were directed to an office where a very pleasant man laboriously wrote out our details in longhand in an enormous ledger, before stamping our passports and giving them back to us. After reboarding the bus we drove a short distance to another post, where we were told to disembark with our luggage this time, and directed to a shed where a man in uniform made a very perfunctory search of our bags. This time, after putting our bags back on the bus, the bus pulled over and parked next to a row of other buses, and the passengers all mingled as they bought food and drinks from nearby stalls. Instead of buying anything, as I was very low on CFAs, I took some pictures of two vultures that were hopping around near some women and children.
This bus trip was very pleasant. The bus windows were dirty, so I couldn't take pictures, but several were open, creating a nice breeze, and the temperature generally was nowhere near as hot. The countryside gradually got greener than Niger, and I noticed several differences. I saw dogs for the first time, lots of them. In Niger, I occasionally heard dogs, but never saw any. In Burkina Faso, I also saw lots of pigs. The villages were different, seeming to consist of more individual compounds than actual villages. Mosques were less frequent, but generally larger and more elaborate. In Niger, I only saw men working in the fields, hoeing and ploughing, generally with oxen. In Burkina Faso, I saw women and children working in the fields, as well as men. Ploughing was generally with a donkey, rather than an ox, and consisted of a man steering the plough, which was pulled by the donkey, and a woman or child generally walked in front of the donkey. As we neared Ouagadougou, I began to see more and more bicycles, and mopeds as well as motorcycles. I didn't see any mopeds in Niger.
Ouaga is a large city, with a population of about two million, I'm told. There were many modern buildings, and we passed a park with traditional forest, a large hospital, a TB centre, and many government buildings. Of course, it was still a typical African city, with tiny businesses lining every street, and many rough dirt roads between the large paved thoroughfares. There seemed to be a lot of construction going on around the city outskirts.
When we arrived at the bus station, I was directed (by another taxi driver) to a taxi driver who spoke English. For 5000 CFA he agreed to drive me to where I could change money, bring me back to the bus station to buy a ticket to Bobo Diolasso for tomorrow, and then drive me to my hotel. In stead of taking me to a bank, he took me to some friends of his who changed 200 Euros at the 650 rate, then we came back to the station, got my ticke to Bobo, and then he drove me to the hotel I chose, Le Pavillon Vert. He agreed to come back tomorrow morning at 6 to drive me back to the bus station, as I didn't want a repeat of that morning!
I got a room with an overhead fan for 8700 CFA. It was a pretty basic room, with a shared toilet and shower down the hall, but the hotel was lovely and shady, with a very nice courtyard and its own restaurant, so I wasn't worried about being too hot.
I had a shower, and recharged my camera battery at a socket in the courtyard, since there wasn't one in my room. While I was waiting for it to charge, I had a look at the handicraft store attached to the hotel, and bought myself a new handbag, since it occurred to me that having an obvious bag, which didn't really have anything valuable in it, was a good distraction, and my ancient little handbag from Costa Rica hadn't survived the morning encounter. The bag I bought was larger, and actually more reminiscent of Ghana than Burkina Faso, as it has a Kente cloth design on one side. I also had a nice chat with an older Belgian man who was staying at the hotel. This was another difference between B.F. and Niger - other than at the Maradi Guest House, I didn't see any foreign tourists in Niger, but in Burkina I saw several at the bus station, and the Pavillon Vert seemed to be populated almost entirely by foreign tourists rather than locals.
I had a good night, and almost overslept, only waking abruptly at 5 am. I went out to wait for my taxi about 5:45, and had to wake up the receptionist to unlock the gate for me. There was already a fair bit of traffic on the road, and when my taxi hadn4t arrived by a few minutes past 6, I flagged another down that was parked across the street. He only charged me 500 CFA to take me to the bus depot.
This was the first and only bus to actually leave pretty much on time. Unlike the SNTV buses, this was a battered old veteran that made no pretence of being air-conditioned. It was also less than half full, so I was able to take my bag on board with me, and put it on the empty seat next to me. This time I sat on the opposite side of the bus, in one of the two-seat rows. Across the aisle from me the three-seat row was occupied by two well-built older women in traditional dress. After my sweltering experiences on the buses to and from Maradi, I had not worn the hijab this time, and now I wondered if this might have contributed to the attack that morning. Would the man have still tried to steal my bag if I had been wearing the hijab? I guess I will never know.
Several of the women on this bus were not wearing head-coverings, and in fact, once we reached Burkina Faso, over two thirds of the women I saw did not wear any kind of head covering, either hijab or traditional African headwraps.
We crossed the Niger border fairly soon after leaving Niamey and crossing the Niger River. We were told to get off the bus and hand over our documents to a soldier, who took them off to a nearby office. About ten minutes later, he brought back all the identity cards, but not the passports. Those of us with passports (about 3 other than myself) were directed to the office, where we were handed the passports and told we were free to go. We walked across the border and climbed back on the bus. It was at least another 20 km before we reached the Burkina Faso border. Here we handed over our documents and those of us with passports were directed to an office where a very pleasant man laboriously wrote out our details in longhand in an enormous ledger, before stamping our passports and giving them back to us. After reboarding the bus we drove a short distance to another post, where we were told to disembark with our luggage this time, and directed to a shed where a man in uniform made a very perfunctory search of our bags. This time, after putting our bags back on the bus, the bus pulled over and parked next to a row of other buses, and the passengers all mingled as they bought food and drinks from nearby stalls. Instead of buying anything, as I was very low on CFAs, I took some pictures of two vultures that were hopping around near some women and children.
This bus trip was very pleasant. The bus windows were dirty, so I couldn't take pictures, but several were open, creating a nice breeze, and the temperature generally was nowhere near as hot. The countryside gradually got greener than Niger, and I noticed several differences. I saw dogs for the first time, lots of them. In Niger, I occasionally heard dogs, but never saw any. In Burkina Faso, I also saw lots of pigs. The villages were different, seeming to consist of more individual compounds than actual villages. Mosques were less frequent, but generally larger and more elaborate. In Niger, I only saw men working in the fields, hoeing and ploughing, generally with oxen. In Burkina Faso, I saw women and children working in the fields, as well as men. Ploughing was generally with a donkey, rather than an ox, and consisted of a man steering the plough, which was pulled by the donkey, and a woman or child generally walked in front of the donkey. As we neared Ouagadougou, I began to see more and more bicycles, and mopeds as well as motorcycles. I didn't see any mopeds in Niger.
Ouaga is a large city, with a population of about two million, I'm told. There were many modern buildings, and we passed a park with traditional forest, a large hospital, a TB centre, and many government buildings. Of course, it was still a typical African city, with tiny businesses lining every street, and many rough dirt roads between the large paved thoroughfares. There seemed to be a lot of construction going on around the city outskirts.
When we arrived at the bus station, I was directed (by another taxi driver) to a taxi driver who spoke English. For 5000 CFA he agreed to drive me to where I could change money, bring me back to the bus station to buy a ticket to Bobo Diolasso for tomorrow, and then drive me to my hotel. In stead of taking me to a bank, he took me to some friends of his who changed 200 Euros at the 650 rate, then we came back to the station, got my ticke to Bobo, and then he drove me to the hotel I chose, Le Pavillon Vert. He agreed to come back tomorrow morning at 6 to drive me back to the bus station, as I didn't want a repeat of that morning!
I got a room with an overhead fan for 8700 CFA. It was a pretty basic room, with a shared toilet and shower down the hall, but the hotel was lovely and shady, with a very nice courtyard and its own restaurant, so I wasn't worried about being too hot.
I had a shower, and recharged my camera battery at a socket in the courtyard, since there wasn't one in my room. While I was waiting for it to charge, I had a look at the handicraft store attached to the hotel, and bought myself a new handbag, since it occurred to me that having an obvious bag, which didn't really have anything valuable in it, was a good distraction, and my ancient little handbag from Costa Rica hadn't survived the morning encounter. The bag I bought was larger, and actually more reminiscent of Ghana than Burkina Faso, as it has a Kente cloth design on one side. I also had a nice chat with an older Belgian man who was staying at the hotel. This was another difference between B.F. and Niger - other than at the Maradi Guest House, I didn't see any foreign tourists in Niger, but in Burkina I saw several at the bus station, and the Pavillon Vert seemed to be populated almost entirely by foreign tourists rather than locals.
I had a good night, and almost overslept, only waking abruptly at 5 am. I went out to wait for my taxi about 5:45, and had to wake up the receptionist to unlock the gate for me. There was already a fair bit of traffic on the road, and when my taxi hadn4t arrived by a few minutes past 6, I flagged another down that was parked across the street. He only charged me 500 CFA to take me to the bus depot.
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