Kayes, Mali

Nayé was a one donkey town frequented mostly by people crossing the border into Mali. We stayed with our new companions who showed us the way through the narrow dusty side streets to the small police shack near the railway station.  Whilst Matti volunteered to stay with the luggage in the shade of a makeshift shelter, Kalifa, Babansu, Margaret and I wandered into the one room police station occupied by two bored looking policemen.  We were treated politely and asked to produce passport photographs for an entry form and to pay 1000CFAs, about £1 each, to cover the administrative costs.  We didn’t know if this was a legitimate fee or a money making scam. But the request was polite, sounded official and the price was minimal so we paid up happily. It transpired that Babansu didn’t have a yellow fever certificate, so the policeman asked him for 3000CFA.  We weren’t sure if this was a rip off or just the policeman taking advantage of an opportunity.  We certainly weren’t asked for our yellow fever certificates although we did have them. After a prolonged and animated discussion Babansu persuaded the policeman that he didn’t need the certificate and would not pay up. This full and frank exchange of views was still in progress as we left the police hut. As we waited for him I stood the rest of our group a round of soft drinks. Eventually Babansu sauntered round the corner smiling and we were ready to go. Matti had chatted to a set place driver and he was waiting for us.  Standing in the mid afternoon sun we were a bit perplexed to see two people cramming into the front seat and Matti explained that in Mali set place cars regularly and routinely took nine people piled into the car’s seven seats.  The driver had assembled eight passengers and refused to proceed until the car was full.  So we bought the extra space and we all carefully slid into the hot car adjusting elbows and knees to optimise, though not necessarily achieve, comfort.  Our destination, Kayes, was still another 75km ahead.  

We got as far as the first police checkpoint, a few of hundred metres inside Mali, where our papers were checked again.  This time Babansu was not so successful.  His arguments with the officials led to his luggage being taken off the car and him being asked to stay. I don’t think he was arrested.  So the car went back to Nayé to collect another passenger and to get Babansu’s fare, which was returned to him.  After two hours back at the border we were on our way again.  The road was good after a short distance of road works. So the 75 km to Kayes took a little over an hour and we arrived at a bushvan garage about 2km out of the town.  Here we took a taxi into Kayes to try to find the Le Khasso hotel.  We happily gave Matti and Kalifa a lift into town. Kalifa was particularly grateful because he was heading on to Bamako that night and was keen to get to the bus station.  As we left them we exchanged mobile phone numbers and addresses scribbled on bits of paper.  Kalifa has actually kept in contact and phoned me from Senegal some months later.

The Le Khasso hotel was basic with several good clean bungalows, each with hot water, and air conditioning.  We met a Bob and Doris, a French Canadian mining engineer and his wife and had dinner with them in the simple restaurant.  The chicken and rice was tasty but the Malian chickens were definitely more scrawny and tough than their European cousins imported into Gambia. In the open air hotel bar overlooking the River Senegal we chatted over a cold beer about what we were all doing in Africa. They were a delightful couple who were in Mali to set up a gold mining operation. Bob told us that there had always been gold deposits in Mali.  Apparently in 1324 the Emperor of Mali, Mansa Kankan Musa undertook the Haj and visited Mecca, passing through Cairo on the way.  He was so delighted by the hospitality shown to him and his retinue in Cairo that on his way back from Mecca he was enormously generous to everyone who had helped him.  Musa parted with so much gold that the value of gold in Cairo was said to have been devalued for a generation.   This was one of the ancient stories about of the fabulous wealth of Timbuctu which made it so appealing to future generations of Europeans. This tantalising glimpse of a mystical city of gold held the European imagination in rapture for at least four hundred years, at least until 1788, when the African Association in London started financing ‘explorers’ to find a safe overland route to the city. Even today Europeans are still drawn to Timbuktu, as were we.  Bob said that the gold was still there in Mali in commercial deposits, as was manganese, iron ore, magnesium, chromium and uranium.  During the soviet era when the Russians were giving technical assistance it was rumoured that that they cast machine parts in gold, painted them black and smuggled them back to Russia.  Doris was planning to fly in a light aircraft from Kayes to Banako the next day, then fly from Bamako to Canada.  She explained that the route from Kayes to Bamako was extremely rough in places and the 600km journey was not to be undertaken lightly, even in a four wheel drive truck.

In the morning we breakfasted on the terrace and watched pirogues full of people in bright colourful clothing going up the river and people washing clothes, children and animals on the opposite bank. Kayes was not a particularly ancient town having been founded in 1880 as a French colonial town.  As the new regional capital, it grew and the arrival of the railway projected it as a major trading centre for gum arabic. Fortunes continued to smile on the town until the railway reached Bamako in 1908.  From then on it declined in economic importance and this accelerated in 1923 when the railway reached Dakar in Senegal.  Today Kayes is still an important regional centre with a pleasant bustling commercial centre of two storey shops and businesses.  The old French colonial buildings and cobbled streets are still there, many used by regional government departments, although they have faded from their former glory.  Kayes is reputed to be the hottest town in Africa.  According to the ‘Rough Guide’ the temperature reaches 50 C in the shade in May.  Some say this is because it is sheltered by the surrounding iron rich hills.  On the other hand it may be just a local boast that has stuck, and been repeated in guide books to the area.  We explored the town and the market buying a cocoanut and packets of Foster Clarks drink powder. Following the tips from Kalifa, the day before, we asked about a bus to Bamako and were directed across the high bridge, off Avenue Magdeburg, spanning the river, carrying the road east out of town and toward Bamako.  On either side of the bridge there were two pedestrian walkways giving superb views of the river and of men fishing, women washing clothes and children cavorting in the water which cascaded through the foundations of a previous bridge.   Being used to the anarchy of public transport in Gambia we were surprised and delighted that we were able to buy tickets for a bus run by the Sangue Voyages bus company that would leave for Bamako at 07:30 the next day.  We were advised to be at the bus at 07:00 to load our luggage on board.

This article is part of a series describing our tour of West Africa
Previous Page:  Next page:  Photographs