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It was about 18C this morning and it felt really cool, fleece and hoodie weather! The days have been hot - 38-42C so the chill of the evenings and early mornings sends shivers over your skin.
Today was a long drive winding along a road from Hell to a waterfall just north of Kindia through the S bends of the mountaineous forest region Fouta DJalon. It is fairly remote here, the tourism of 20 years ago lost. Villages are simple and we are once again seeing the mushroom shaped mud huts with thatched rooves. Cattle, goats, and chickens roam freely through the villages and on the roads. Other villages with concrete houses and shops that are separated from the edge of the road by 2 feet gutters have a pair of vultures sitting on the metal rooves, hovering in the hopes of a tasty morsel. Motor cycle repair shops abound as do plastic bottles of gasoline for sale.
The drive took us through the Fouta Djalon highlands, a sandstone massif which is one of the major attractions here. Pretty purple flowers on skinny branches peeped through the trees. The area is rich in rivers and we crossed numerous narrow bridges over drying-up rivers with banks of effervescent green trees and bushes. Unabashed ebony black kids bathing naked scrubbed their skin in the rivers till it shone like the diamonds in the ground that could make Guinea rich but don't. We drove through wide grassy valleys with red dirt trails meandering over the steep sun baked valley walls. We passed through jungle with its tall trees and short trees with leaves tiny and big, long and narrow or fat and wide, some sparse, some with solid growth, some had crinkled edges, some smooth; all were adorned with vines and lianas and ferns growing abundantly at their feet, wrapping around their trunks, and others providing a swing for lazy insects.
We picked our left-right route through the pot holes and over the ruts and bumps moving at the pace of a tortoise and in complete opposition to the racing driver trip we did in Ghana. In some parts, the roads are sliced out of the forest so that the roots of the trees are bared in the red mud rock that rises steeply from the semi tarmacked surface. We came around a corner and a bunch of kids were filling in the potholes and begging for money from the passing motorists, so I guess my start up business suggestion of yesterday is already in full swing! Cars, motor cycles, SUVs and lorries navigated the same route. The roof loads on the cars and SUVs were at least as high as the vehicle itself and spilling over with sacks of grain, bikes, large plastic holdalls of goods, petrol cans, chickens. Horns were blown to indicate "I'm here", "I'm going to pass", "I hear you", "Go ahead", "You idot" and various expletives we can't explain. The people hung out of the truck cabs and shouted their welcomes punctuated by fullsome waves. Large lorries about 20/30 meters long sneek their way around the corners weighed down low over their chassis with oversized burdens protected with tarpaulins. We saw several turned over on their rooves or sides lying down the steep sides of the road no doubt toppling over as they take a corner too fast, lose breaking power on downhill S bends, or just lose control on the over crenellated roads. We saw several SUVs, cars and trucks broken down with dexterous drivers head stuck in the engine trying to sort out the problem.
We passed through Mamou with its Soviet style tenements in disrepair and fading signs for all the aid projects that have been conducted in the town. Here Jamie was entrapped by the littlest of women, dressed from head to foot in a colourful cloth of yellow, green,white, and blue, and then an extra white cloth covering her head. Her wiszened face beamed out from underneath the head ware showing two teeth separated by a black gap. She grabbed his arm and couldn't keep her hands off him as she tried to reach up to stroke his arms. He took her picture and she giggled and chuckled at the image she saw. This was the highlight of her day.
We had a fleeting view of a German cyclist fixing something on his bike. Linsan appeared to be the most Moslem town we have passed and we felt there were not as many waves, but more finger pointing, whatever that meant. In Tamisso or Sougueta we filled up the water tanks from the tired tap that streamed the water from the village well.
Our camp site for the night was at the beautiful Chutes de la Voile de la Mariee, a drop of 60 m, 13 km from Kindia. The Santa River tumbles over the cliff at two speeds; one giving a refreshing shower, and the other giving the skin a brisk massage. The base of the Falls was like a Roman Amphitheatre and rumour has it that there used to be concerts around the Falls. Rumour also has it that the rondavells at the base of the Falls were built by a former President, Sekou Toure for his weekly visits. Lonely Planet says you can rent the huts, and even eat there, but it all looked pretty deserted and deteriorated to us. A beautiful spot nestled in the tall broad leafed trees and a wonderful opportunity to clean up under the Falls.
It was about 18C this morning and it felt really cool, fleece and hoodie weather! The days have been hot - 38-42C so the chill of the evenings and early mornings sends shivers over your skin.
Today was a long drive winding along a road from Hell to a waterfall just north of Kindia through the S bends of the mountaineous forest region Fouta DJalon. It is fairly remote here, the tourism of 20 years ago lost. Villages are simple and we are once again seeing the mushroom shaped mud huts with thatched rooves. Cattle, goats, and chickens roam freely through the villages and on the roads. Other villages with concrete houses and shops that are separated from the edge of the road by 2 feet gutters have a pair of vultures sitting on the metal rooves, hovering in the hopes of a tasty morsel. Motor cycle repair shops abound as do plastic bottles of gasoline for sale.
The drive took us through the Fouta Djalon highlands, a sandstone massif which is one of the major attractions here. Pretty purple flowers on skinny branches peeped through the trees. The area is rich in rivers and we crossed numerous narrow bridges over drying-up rivers with banks of effervescent green trees and bushes. Unabashed ebony black kids bathing naked scrubbed their skin in the rivers till it shone like the diamonds in the ground that could make Guinea rich but don't. We drove through wide grassy valleys with red dirt trails meandering over the steep sun baked valley walls. We passed through jungle with its tall trees and short trees with leaves tiny and big, long and narrow or fat and wide, some sparse, some with solid growth, some had crinkled edges, some smooth; all were adorned with vines and lianas and ferns growing abundantly at their feet, wrapping around their trunks, and others providing a swing for lazy insects.
We picked our left-right route through the pot holes and over the ruts and bumps moving at the pace of a tortoise and in complete opposition to the racing driver trip we did in Ghana. In some parts, the roads are sliced out of the forest so that the roots of the trees are bared in the red mud rock that rises steeply from the semi tarmacked surface. We came around a corner and a bunch of kids were filling in the potholes and begging for money from the passing motorists, so I guess my start up business suggestion of yesterday is already in full swing! Cars, motor cycles, SUVs and lorries navigated the same route. The roof loads on the cars and SUVs were at least as high as the vehicle itself and spilling over with sacks of grain, bikes, large plastic holdalls of goods, petrol cans, chickens. Horns were blown to indicate "I'm here", "I'm going to pass", "I hear you", "Go ahead", "You idot" and various expletives we can't explain. The people hung out of the truck cabs and shouted their welcomes punctuated by fullsome waves. Large lorries about 20/30 meters long sneek their way around the corners weighed down low over their chassis with oversized burdens protected with tarpaulins. We saw several turned over on their rooves or sides lying down the steep sides of the road no doubt toppling over as they take a corner too fast, lose breaking power on downhill S bends, or just lose control on the over crenellated roads. We saw several SUVs, cars and trucks broken down with dexterous drivers head stuck in the engine trying to sort out the problem.
We passed through Mamou with its Soviet style tenements in disrepair and fading signs for all the aid projects that have been conducted in the town. Here Jamie was entrapped by the littlest of women, dressed from head to foot in a colourful cloth of yellow, green,white, and blue, and then an extra white cloth covering her head. Her wiszened face beamed out from underneath the head ware showing two teeth separated by a black gap. She grabbed his arm and couldn't keep her hands off him as she tried to reach up to stroke his arms. He took her picture and she giggled and chuckled at the image she saw. This was the highlight of her day.
We had a fleeting view of a German cyclist fixing something on his bike. Linsan appeared to be the most Moslem town we have passed and we felt there were not as many waves, but more finger pointing, whatever that meant. In Tamisso or Sougueta we filled up the water tanks from the tired tap that streamed the water from the village well.
Our camp site for the night was at the beautiful Chutes de la Voile de la Mariee, a drop of 60 m, 13 km from Kindia. The Santa River tumbles over the cliff at two speeds; one giving a refreshing shower, and the other giving the skin a brisk massage. The base of the Falls was like a Roman Amphitheatre and rumour has it that there used to be concerts around the Falls. Rumour also has it that the rondavells at the base of the Falls were built by a former President, Sekou Toure for his weekly visits. Lonely Planet says you can rent the huts, and even eat there, but it all looked pretty deserted and deteriorated to us. A beautiful spot nestled in the tall broad leafed trees and a wonderful opportunity to clean up under the Falls.
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