BURKINA FASO

Burkina Faso is the third poorest country in the world, but I'm not sure what factors are used to determine this. While it seemed no poorer to us than other poor African countries we have been to (for example, Cameroon, Uganda, and Malawi), we only spent time in the capital, Ouagadougou, and one night in Ouahigouya, also a large town. Hence, we did not see the "real" Burkina Faso, nor did we get the best possible impression of the country. Ouagadougou is a dusty, chaotic town, which is in a large part due to the central market burning down a few years ago causing the "central market" to be spread throughout the streets.

For me, Burkina Faso was a disaster from start to finish. After our frustrating and extended breakdown in Nigeria, waiting for parts and having nothing to do in the meantime, I was ready to enjoy myself and start getting through the thousands of remaining kilometres to Europe. The problem with the oil pressure switch in northern Ghana was totally disheartening, but since the bike was still rideable and the problem minor we did not think it would take long to fix in Burkina and be on our way again. After an uneventful border crossing we were on our way to Ouagadougou when Nick leaned back and shouted that his international driver's license expired March 3rd so he would have to get his parents to renew it and send the new one as the date was coming up. I shouted back it was actually March 15th and it had already expired. So now we not only needed a new oil pressure switch, but immediately needed the international license to avoid paying lots of bribes.

Thankfully camping at OK Inn in Ouagadougou is free because we would end up staying there for 27 days. Despite Nick's brother in New Zealand buying a new oil pressure switch the same day we asked him to, it did not get sent straight away because we decided to make things cheaper by sending the international license at the same time. Partially because of the Easter holiday and partially because AA New Zealand stupidly stamped the wrong expiration date twice (one stated the licnese would expire March 52nd) the package wasn't even handed over to DHL until we had already been in Ouaga 2 weeks. Then, instead of taking 4 days as estimated by DHL it took 10. We both really started to hate DHL, and had plenty of time to think about it with nothing else to do in Burkina's capital and money running low.

Ouaga is not a city with much to do, and the people are not the friendliest in Africa, not only according to us but all the other travelers we met found Burkinabes more aggressive and generally difficult to deal with. Our campsite was right next to a truck park, and every morning as soon we emerged from the tent, the truckers spotted us and would start coming over asking for cigarettes, money, or anything that happened to be in sight. It got less frequent the longer we were there, probably because we never gave anything to anybody, but was not a good way to start the morning. In town there were plenty of hassles as well, for example as soon as we were out of eyesight after parking the motorbike someone would put cardboard on the seat and push a bunch of other motorbikes around ours so we couldn't move it. When we came back they would demand crazy amounts of money for "protecting" the seat, and it took lots of arguing to get them to move the other bikes so we could leave. After about a week at OK Inn, one of the managers came over to tell us we were only allowed to stay for 4 days, why were we still there? I have never felt so unwelcome in a country, but we had no choice but to wait in Ouaga for the package to arrive. The trip became a test of endurance, and when the package finally did arrive no part of me wanted to see any more of Burkina Faso than I had to to get to the Malian border. My parting gift from Ouaga was spending the night on the toilet, hunched over a bidet at the same time while the nightly gathering of prostitutes at OK Inn clicked in their heels outside, banged on the door and yelled at me in local language and French; it's not like there were no other toilets. I couldn't even make it back to the tent before having to run for the toilet again.

Even once we left Ouagadougou, Burkina was not done with us yet. Since we could not find anyone with a torque wrench for Nick to properly install the new oil pressure switch, we had a few paniked moments on the way to Mali when we realized the oil was still leaking. In the end we had to spend a night in Ouiaghiya trying to find a torque wrech. Of course, a torque wrench was not to be found- it really appears that a torque wrench does not exist in the country of Burkina Faso, despite it being a critical tool for working on engines and other parts of motor vehicles (like oil pressure switches). So Nick tightened the switch a bit more and the next day we tried for the border again, this time successfully. I'm sure Burkina Faso has lovelier sides than this, but we did not see them.

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