To evoke the atmosphere of that trip I have to mention that our roads were squatted by ever-receding mirrory puddles of sky blue that spontaneously evaporated in our approach, that our clothes and faces were thickly covered with dust which clung to us with the tenacity of a second skin, that our skies of course were nothing but naked blue and that the people who gave us lifts and invited us home had mouthfuls of white-toothed smiles which we strove to gratefully emulate ...
We took a somewhat round about way, starting from the town Gao whose camel market we had visited and choosing the route that only theoretically -from bird's view- was the more direct one, neglecting the much more frequented angular road leading to the same destination, and made our way along the river Niger, passing through the far away small towns of Bourem and Gourma-Rharous in the dessert-like North of Mali