Got up early: 4:30. I'd been told that there was a very early taxi-brousse that avoided the agonizing waiting all day to be filled. Wrote a goodbye note to Jon and quietly left. Arrived at the autogare at 5am. The place woke up at 7-- eventually I found that there were no seats left for Ouagadougou. Worse, I met two Cameroonians who'd been trying for two days. I decided to try to find Jens' driver. On the way, I spotted an Upper Volta truck, found the driver and secured a ride-- only 4,000 francs, in the cabin, likely to be more comfortable and more direct than the bus. While I waited, he told me to lie down in his hammock, which I did, reading and munching dates-- must've been quite a sight. He said we'd leave at 4pm and I was astonished to see that we left at only 4:30. Three hours and three police checks later, we had to stop for the night, due to a police check-point that had closed early so that the village could make a profit from stranded passengers.
I heard that this road, although the only route between two adjacent capitals, is rough. It is. I had a good view though, and felt less bad about missing my trip to Ayrou, because I saw so many little villages and isolated huts along the way. Also enjoyed the fabulously, hideously fat and stubby baobab trees. The driver was a gentle, soft-spoken man, his mechanic-mate not so friendly to me and, to my regret, we'd taken another passenger, a middle-aged man, and the cab was packed. Slept outside the truck.PHOTO CREDIT
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