Drove back into town to check visas and post: 150 French francs for our Mali visas, which is US$10 cheaper than we were quoted before.
Then to post restante where two searches of the B’s and one of the M’s produced nothing for me; want so much to hear from home that I burst into tears on the truck with Vicki and Jim. Suddenly felt cut off and lonely, sure that Mum would have written. Jim returned from the post office saying that he’d seen them pull out a new bunch of letters. So I raced back again and battled my way to the front, getting pushed and shoved from all sides. Watched them checking for someone else and recognised Mum’s handwriting on the back of a letter. Went berserk, jumping up and down claiming my letter; unsurprisingly, they refused to check for any more mail for me, and got stroppy and less cooperative which, given their lazy inefficiency, made me even more frustrated.
Devoured Mum’s note and four newspaper clippings. Then went for a drink with Vicki. (Writing this post reminded me how important news from home was back in those pre-email days, when our only link between Africa and the outside world was the BBC World Service on Geoff's shortwave radio. I just started reading some of Mum's letters to me, which often included cricket scores, bless her, and am now planning to indulge and read them all when I have a bit more time, and will post some of my letters and news from home.)
Drove out of town, stopping at an army base where we bought 90 eggs. Memorable ride to camp balancing trays of eggs as the truck bounced along the bumpy roads. There were several close calls and someone suggested that Kel was trying to make scrambled eggs! Would have been a fun video.
Fantastic wash at La Source (a natural spring), scrubbing myself all over then drying off in a chilly wind that briefly soothed the fierce, painful heat rash on my thighs. Washed few clothes then back to camp.
As I was writing on the truck, the sun set slowly behind me in a blaze of red and pink as the glowing moon appeared from behind a jagged mountain peak in front. There was a clatter of camera shutters as the ball rose into the sky.
Suddenly, over the last two nights, I’ve finally felt like “this is Africa”. What I’ve always imagined vast expanses of this continent would be. Glad to be here. Glad to be alive. Wish I could share it with someone special.
Getting my “special people” to write paragraphs of a letter to Mum and Dad for a bit of fun. Camel trek tomorrow afternoon.
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