On first sight it is hard to believe Bamako is a capital city. With mostly dirt streets, sheds that double as shops and a tiny airport where waiting is the norm. It took half an hour for our boarding passes to be printed out on departure!
However, amongst the dust and mayhem is a place of calm, the National Museum. It features traditional masks, ancient pottery and brilliantly coloured textiles in relatively modern buildings surrounded by trees and grass. Even a waterfall is at the entrance.
Leaving Bamako, it is straight into village life. Piles of striped watermelons beside the road, girls and women rushing up to the car windows to sell fruit, drinks or food whenever we stopped and petrol for sale in all sorts of glass bottles up to 1.5 litres in size. Then there are the markets where the parking lot is full of cattle and donkeys and the carts they pull. A man sews on a treadle sewing machine while women sit on the ground behind piles of oranges, bananas and tomatoes. A sweet smell emanates from huge cans of honey, fresh from the artificial beehives we see high up in the trees. Just in case sleep is taking over, the ever-present speed humps are a reminder that it is yet another village.
One of Mali's most well known attractions in the world's largest mud mosque in Djenne. Of course, as a non-Moslem I cannot enter it but it does form a stunning backdrop for the weekly Djenne market.
Listed as a World Heritage site, Djenne is a maze of mud houses bordering winding alleys, some with putrid grey drains down the middle. Even basic plumbing is still catching up here. This lack of colour in the town buildings contrasts with the vivid hues and striking geometric designs of the women's clothes, including scarfs. Market day is an ideal time to see this.
This is just a taste of what is to come.
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