Niger River Project

The expected rapids never materialise – or, at least, they don’t deliver. When we reach the section marked on the map, it’s obvious enough, and I’m sure when the river’s up it’s a different story. But with it so far down now, the so-called rapids are little more than short sections of choppy water. Shame, as we’d been looking forward to some fun.

Our penultimate night in the bush is dismal, a patch of scrub atop a muddy bank overgrown with thick bushes. We can’t even get into the river for a wash. Stinking we go to bed.

The next day we encounter the first signs of people we’ve seen for some time – a battered ferry taking cars, people, goats and cows from one side of the Niger to the other. The fishermen casting their nets from canoes stop and stare at us floating past. They’re agog, but still manage a “ca va” in true Guinean fashion.

We’re approaching Kouroussa now. Rather than get in late on in the day, we decide to camp a couple of hours out of town and make our grand entrance early the next day. We find a genuinely lovely camping spot above a sandy spit that provides excellent swimming (watch this space for exclusive underwater shots of Willis’s arse). As evening draws on, we watch as on the opposite bank several bush fires break out and set the evening sky alight with a bright glow.

We strike out for Kouroussa early. It takes longer than we expected to reach, but eventually two telecoms towers break the skyline, telling us civilisation is once more at hand. We round a corner and look for a place to stop. All along the river bank there are people, washing, playing, hanging out.

We opt for a stop where a group of young men are sheltering in the shade. The pungent tang on the air tells us they’re all stoned. This could be a mistake.

Nevertheless, stoned as they are they all set to and help us pack up Djoliba, an awkward task on the steep bank. One of them runs off to find us some transport to get us to the next big town, Kankan from where we hope to travel to Mali. We have the usual banter about where we’re from, which football team we support, do we know David Beckham etc etc.

The guy returns to tell us that because it’s Sunday the only way we’ll get to Kankan is by chartering a taxi. This is way more expensive than sharing transport, but we’re over a barrell. Unless we stay in Kouroussa until the next day,when buses will be running again, this is our only option – and to be honest, Kouroussa doesn’t look worth staying in, so we head off.

The group of young men help us up to the taxi. Laden down, Dan’ s unable to keep up with one who hops off with his camera bag. We struggle to catch up and do so just in the nick of time – as the chap is stuffing one of Dan’s cameras down his trousers. We foil his attempted theft, but it’s a close call – and another reason to get out of Kouroussa.

Tags: Travel

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