Woke with very queasy stomach. Every smell turned my stomach so went without food. Feeling generally yuck although not violently off.
Shopped in small town again, half an hour all we needed. Then back into Algiers-where I fluked a lens cap the right size from a motley collection of second-hand ones in a tiny camera and processing shop.
Wandered around with Vicki and bought Geoff a great pipe to charm his snakes as a Christmas present. Then off to the Niger Embassy, where we sat around inside with the Guerbles (travellers on a Guerba Expeditions truck on the same route as us). Both trucks' passports were lumped together, and still being written in and stamped well after the 2pm collection time. After a well-dressed gentleman came and went, we were told that the ambassador was out and we had to come back at five.
Drove part way into town, where Nikki, Vicki and I were escorted to the local hammam, having been warned it wasn’t great. But it was wonderful: an old crumbling bathhouse, whose square dressing room Nikki aptly described as like a Fellini film set. All shapes and sizes of women in all manners of dress and undress around the edges-absolutely entranced by three Western women joining them. Wondered if it was the first time foreigners ever visited. Left all our stuff and headed into the bowels warily. Another boiling hot room, this time with small concrete basins on the wall with hot and cold taps each - there were women 3-deep but some basins free and other bathers made room for us. Soap, shampoo - a wizened old woman bullied us around, loufring and washing us with vigour. I was in seventh heaven and I think she realised that and gave me extra scrubbing, the heat and attention very relaxing. For the local women the whole washing process appeared almost ritualistic and I imagine they were very surprised by our coming and going in half an hour. Back in the dressing room there was a crush of bodies. This was a very different experience from Fez and I think this was a much older bath house. Far more like the Turkish baths although I missed the one-to-one workout of the Turkish ones - here I always feel not quite finished. Cost 21 dinar but worth every cent.
Eventually back to the Niger embassy to collect visas for the princely sum of 65 dinar. This time the process was unexpectedly painless, although, having gone on our way we found one of the Guerbles’ exchange certificates, and had to find them to give it back.
Long slow drive out of town at last, heading south, happy to be moving on and out of this godforsaken city. A shrouded woman, covered to her knees, waved at Markus, who waved back. She then pointed to herself at him and made sleeping signal. Didn't expect anything this explicit here or from a covered woman - what passions burn beneath those layers!I
Interminable time before we pulled off the track into another field, though this one was grassed and soft with few rocks. Kelvin really did us proud. Bob and my last night of cooking for this rotation and we made dumplings with the stew - appreciated. Looking forward to time off again. Stomach seems to have settled down.
Caption: Women of Algiers by Eugene Delacroix (French, 1798-1863)
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