A man in his lacy colourful outfit. There didn't seem to be an obvious place to catch a ride out of Natitingou and a motorbike taxi guy flagged us down a ride. The 4x4 landcruiser was taking supplies back to the national park so we were some extra cash for the driver. He dropped us at Tangueta where we had to wait an hour an a half for the shared taxi to fill. John and I, and an elderly Muslim man, squeezed into the front seat and we were taken all the way through the border and into Burkina Faso.
The hills in the area were very bare as the large trees had been chopped down and burnt. It looked very dry and like the hills would never again be able to support large trees.
All along the road were dozens of petrol tankers taking fuel from Nigeria to Burkina Faso and even on to Mali. Some of the tankers were obviously leaking fuel through the joins in the tanks as they were so old. We saw several burnt out tankers off the side of the road and could see where the petrol fire had spread through the drains and into the shrubs.
At the border there were dozens of trucks in lines to clear customs. The drivers carry their fold up camp beds or home made beds made of small branches, strapped to the outside of the tankers. In the queue they set them up under their trucks and slept if they were not doing any maintenance on their engines.
The villages near Natitingou are famous for their two-storied round houses with thatched rooves but we only saw one compound with them. They are called tata somba houses. We couldn't stop and get any photos which was a shame. The animals traditionally are on the ground floor and the family sleeping area on the top.
Most of the small rondavel houses were built next to the fields that they tended with maize, manioc, and peanuts. The tribe in this area didn't build in a village like others, so there were lots of small thatched round houses joined by mud walls spread around the fields.
The small structures store grain. The elderly Muslim man took us under his wing once we got to the Burkino border post. He found us all a shady spot under some trees where we waited for the next minivan to take us to Fada N'Gourma, known as Fada by the locals. He bought some pillows of water and gave us one and then gave us some mangoes that he had bought in the market. He was very kind even though we couldn't understand a word he said. His bicycle with a small bag on the carrier was loaded on top of the minivan along with a motor bike.
At the Fada market we caught two motorbike taxis to the hotel. The hotel had three floors and was spotlessly clean and nicely laid out. From our window we could look down on a thick green lawn and garden with statues and fountains. It looked like something out of a European park and not an African backyard. The blue of the swimming pool contrasted with the green lawn and the grey earth yards of the neighbours.
The owners were from Syria and the wife could speak a few words in English. She had relatives in Australia and showed us her plants from Australia that she had growing in the garden. There were also posters of the Atherton Ranges in Australia in the corridors. The clock in the reception area was in the shape of the island as well.
There was not much to see and do in Fada but we had to get some more iodine as John has had a rash on his big toe that started to clear up but then got worse when he stopped using iodine. Usually pharmacists speak English but the depot we found was more like a distribution place. We were able to use our broken French and they used their broken English to have a bit of a chat. Burkinabes are pretty friendly. As we pass people say 'Bonne arrivee' to welcome us.
We managed to find a ticket office for a big bus and buy a ticket for the next day's travel.
We enjoyed relaxing in Fada, swimming in the pool and dining in the garden but it was pretty quiet as we were the only guests at this huge place with conference rooms. We had free Wifi in our room so were able to chat with our daughter and catch up on emails.
One morning we woke to hear shouting and gunshots in the street near the hotel. We saw soldiers on motorbikes with their rifles charging up the road. We turned on the TV and the only news programme we could find was French 24hrs and it was all in French. We read that there had been unrest and shootings in the capital city with the presidential guards. Apparently the guards had not been paid the housing subsidy they had been promised. A few weeks earlier students had protested about the rising price of basic food supplies as well. Unfortunately, for the land-locked countries of Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger, the transporting of rice, milk powder,sugar and cooking oil, has been disrupted because of the civil war in Cote d'Ivoire, and prices have soared.
We asked the hotel staff about the soldiers and they told us it was nothing and had been something that had been sorted last month. We accepted their explanation and got ready to head for Ougadougou the next day.
