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Welcome to my travel log! You will find here a lot more than in the travel reports, stripped from political correctness. Enjoy! 
May 23, 2005 02:00 PM Johannesburg (ZA) - Alexandra
A colleague of mine was very kind to drive me and another colleague into Alexandra, so we could have a look at one of Johannesburg’s townships. I am not sure if she was joking or not, but she said that since she had two guys in the car, it should be reasonably safe to drive there.
Well, the place looked calm to me, and I have to admit that I had seen much rougher towns and townships in Africa with poorer housing and infrastructure.
What is shocking though that Alexandra is adjacent to Sandton, which is simply another world where no-one is concerned about the problem of being there alone on the street.
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May 22, 2005 02:00 PM Johannesburg (ZA) - Hello Again
South Africa’s biggest city, with an estimated population of 8 million, is not homogenous. It is like a cluster of many smaller towns, and townships of various reputation and safety records. It is a fascinating city of major contrasts, which is often recommended by guidebooks to be excluded from South African itineraries, as violent crime is unfortunately quite common.
Not everywhere though. There are places like Sandton, where I stayed, which are modern and reasonably safe to walk around, even during the hours of darkness. The Nelson Mandela Square (pictured below) is very popular as it boasts many bars, restaurants, shops and a multiplex cinema.
Sandton makes an impression of a fully developed ‘first world’ town. However, on the other side of the M1 road, there is Alexandra. It a township with terrible reputation and if you are well dressed, or worse white, you do not even drive there on your own.
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Apr 09, 2005 02:00 PM France - Nice is nice?
I thought so highly about Nice. I really expected Nice to be nice. Well, it is relatively nice, but I expected it to be nicer. Well, the construction work that left the centre all dug out was not helping at all. I did appreciate the old town, the Provencal architecture. I liked the beach area (not too much) and the hills, which offered nice views. But I could not find the nice atmosphere. The ambiance of the city felt somewhat impersonal, artificial, or commercial. I really cannot explain it.
I took a long stroll across the old town. I stopped at a few larger and smaller squares. Gazed at some of the old churches. I climbed the stairs all the way to the hill. I do not know what I was looking for. I did not have a map. And I did not come prepared. This way, instead of visiting Nice, I was simply exploring. I thought that this could bring up the city's main qualities. Oh, well. I guess I was not looking hard enough.
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Apr 08, 2005 02:00 PM France - Cannes
If there were two or three the most famous places in France, Cannes would be one of them. For it is Cannes that hosts Europe's most glamourous film festival. But the town is rather nice and even it did not have all that publicity, it would be worth visiting it to see its qualities. There is a nice castle on the top of the hill. And the beach is good. And the marina attracts incredible yachts. But also, the architecture is superb. The seafront promenade and the main avanue is lined with palaces and grand mansions. And right behind them, there is a small maze of narrow, shaded streets and alleys, housing boutiques not from this planet!
Cannes looks also very nice at night. But I would enjoy the town more if it was not raining.
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Apr 08, 2005 02:00 PM Monaco - Monte Carlo, Monaco-Ville...
I knew Monaco only from postcards depicting the modern high rise buildings and the facade of the Monte Carlo Casino. I was not aware that the capital was virtually an open-air museum, dramatically perched on a hill overlooking the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. I came on a dramatic hot day, which combined sun spells intermittent between brief showers falling from low hanging heavy-looking grey clouds. Not a typical Mediterranean weather... But browsing through and about the narrow lanes among rather flamboyant mansions and palaces made my day. I spent a couple of hours exploring the capital, and then I moved to see also other parts. I was impressed with the lifts hidden inside the rocky mountains on which the country is built, transporting pedestrians to the upper parts. I used them, and then walked down, back to the sea's shores.
The tip of the hilltop, where the Princely Palace is perched, is one of the most spectacularly looking spots on the Mediterranean. The palace is a celebrated place of the country. The residence has been called "the guardian of an ancient tradition". Its setting suggests that it has been constructed as a fortress. The structure dates back to the beginning of the 13th century. It was built by the Genoese, and therefore its architecture, exterior and interior, is in such an Italian style. Famous room, open to visitors, include a main gallery with 15th century frescoes, the Louis XVth yellow & gold lounge, the Blue room (it also has gold decorations!), the Mazarin room covered with multi-coloured wood-panels, the Throne Room with a magnificent Renaissance fireplace, the Palatine Chapel built in the 17th century, the St-Mary's Tower, built from the white stones of nearby La Turbie, the Main Courtyard and the 17th century Carrara marble double staircase. A truly princely home.
Monaco-Ville seriously surprised me! I did not expect to see such a lovely little capital packed with magnificent architecture, with some buildings looking so classic, and yet not dating many centuries back at all.
The Palais de Justice, for example, was only built in 1924, by Prince Louis II. The sea tuff, a grey and porous stone, was used for its construction, which was also used for the country's ramparts and fortifications. As the stone contains many small pebbles, and sometimes mollusc shells, it makes the facade look irregular. Not enough? The bust of the Sovereign Honoré II, dating back to 1568, is there, too.
The Oceanographic Museum, not only an exceptional museum but a masterpiece of architecture with dramatic location, overlooking the sea on top of a breathtaking drop of 85 meters. About 100,000 tonnes of massive La Turbie stones were used to built it. The stone is naturally light brown but acquires a pale grey patina under the effect of water. It was built in 1910!
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Apr 07, 2005 02:00 PM France - Saint-Tropez
It must have been about twenty years that I have been wanting to see Saint-Tropez in my own eyes! It is to do with the film series about a certain, small group of gendarmes. And in fact, the one and only - le gendarme de Saint-Tropez, Monsieur Cruchot.
Ever since the series (I am not sure how famous they were across the world), Saint-Tropez grew to become a world-renowned summer resort for the rich and famous. I am sure it had been almost like that in the 1970s, as many French would descend to this coastal town in the summer. These days, however, the town might be one of the most glamourous spot on the French Riviera. The bars, restaurants, and the boutiques might carry the most expensive items in the whole country.
The town is pleasant in spite all of that! It has a few shaded parks and alleys. It has narrow lanes. Charming architecture. The buildings are tall and and narrow, their windows shutters are wooden and painted in vivid colours. And the harbour is positively lovely!
Uh, and I definitely visited the famous gendarmerie station! I seemed so surreal to me...
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Jan 10, 2005 07:00 PM West Africa - Dakar (SN) to Paris (FR) to London (GB)
From this holiday I came back home extremely happy. I managed to try new things in life, like the open-air cold bucket shower under the stars or taking a crap in complete darkness into a small hole in the floor in the room with no ceiling and no doors.
I met really interesting people, some of whom may became good friends, and whose warm-heartedness made me to go back to the area. I already bought my tickets!
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Jan 09, 2005 07:00 PM Senegal - N'Gor (on the way out)
For the very last night of the holiday, I chose a reasonably priced, comfortable hotel directly on the beach with great pool and restaurant in the village of N’Gor, which Samba showed me on my first day in Senegal.
The hotel was called La Madrague and it turned out to be an excellent hotel with remarkably good swimming pool and splendid restaurant serving hyper-delicious food.
I was staying in the room number 12, which was spotless and very comfortable. I am not sure if it was intended for me as there was a bit of confusion when I arrived four hours later than I thought. The security guard could not find my name on the reservation board (normally scribbled in pencil) and his manager was not much help either being woken up at 3 am. I had a short night but I felt that the bed was really comfy and the sheets were very pleasant.
I was not quite sure what I wanted to do on my last day there in this small fishing village. I was speculating in my mind whether it would be worth it for me to go to Dakar or maybe even the Lac Rose, some 40 minutes away by car, or not. Although I was running low on my cash, a cash machine was five minutes walk away from the hotel. So, paying some extra for a taxi to take me to the pink lake was not much of a concern and might have been a good idea.
However, I somehow decided to stay in the village, and I cannot explain exactly why I did. Maybe I subconsciously wanted to catch the last sunrays of the holiday before going back to winter-bound Europe.
I took a stroll on the beach watching kingfishers dive for fish and large hawks sharking for shallow prey. There were many of them, particularly the hawks. I was fascinated by the kingfishers’ skill to fold their wings and accelerate so rapidly in to the water and the ability to spot the potential victim from so high and at a considerable speed. I noticed that they actually look straight most of the time and only occasionally have a look at the water.
As soon as they capture the fish, they are very vulnerable, as they have to swallow it remaining in the air as the other kingfishers fold their wings into an attack to steal the fish. Is that jealousy? It must be. They cannot stand the fact that the successful kingfisher had more skill to capture the fish or that they are perhaps clumsy. It reminded me of people and the fact that the world could be an unfair place. Why would nature, and the Lord allow kingfishers to steal food, sometimes using violence, from other kingfishers, and forbid humans to do the same to each other? Hm…
The same day, I observed very similar situations with the hawks. It became clear to me that it is very natural, if even intended, that the world is an unfair, and full of violence and war, place. It seems to be like that for a genuine purpose, though – the survival. So, I guess Mark Twain was wrong saying that ‘The man is the only animal that blushes, or needs to’. I saw unmistakably that kingfishers and hawks had all the good reasons to blush, too and they should. But hey, do not quote me on that!
In the afternoon, I sat on large stones, creating a pier leading from the beach into the ocean. I sat down there and watched people go about their business. Many women poured waste into the ocean, right by the pier, where kids were playing.
Some of the kids started talking to me in French. Many of them demanded pictures to be taken of them, and I was not sure if I should take them or not, because I could not predict whether they would later also demand a payment.
Well, it turned out to be a great fun, as they started posing and pushing over one another. I think they actually enjoyed seeing the pictures on my camera’s LCD screen more than posing or being photographed.
One of the boys was a son of the chief of the village. I thought I should feel honoured to be the photographer of some sort of a local royal, or a member of royal family, since the chief of a village in Africa is like a king. The by gave me the address and asked if I could send the pictures by post. I did not promise anything but I probably should send something since I took the address. My problem is however, that I am not whether the kids actually expect to receive those photographs at all.
I was again watching lads kicking football on the beach that afternoon. It became very evident to me again, why the African football is so good, and in my opinion so much better than the corrupted and over commercialised European one. Try starting practising football on hot sand wearing flip flops (thongs) or no footwear whatsoever. Often, the ball falls into the ocean so it gets wet and unpleasantly salty, nevermind the sand sticking to it and painfully rubbing on the feet and ankles. That must actually be very nasty part of the game, and yet many boys have a great joy playing.
Some of the boys were very young so throughout years of practice in difficult conditions, they will develop excellent skills to manoeuvre any type of a round object with their feet. And something tells me, although one of my good friends would most definitely disagree, that one does not need to be black to play football so well.
When I came back to Senegal after having just been to Mali and Burkina Faso, I realised how expensive drinks are in Senegal. In bars and restaurants in this country, a 30cl bottle of soda (coke, fanta, sprite, tonic) is CFA800. In Mali, the exact same thing costs usually CFA500 or 450 and in Burkina – CFA350. So, Lech Walesa, the Nobel Prize winner and former president of Republic of Poland, would say that a bottle of soda in Burkina Faso is more than 100 percent cheaper than in Senegal. Well, right or wrong it is a large difference.
Just before I dragged myself to a taxi to take me to the airport, so I could so unhappily come back home, I had blown the rest of the money for the very last dinner.
Obviously, it had to be something special, and I could not think of anything else but proper seafood, i.e. lobster. In the La Madrague restaurant, it was the dish of the day, so it must have been very fresh.
I started with large ravioli stuffed with Lobster, which were indescribable leaving me speechless until my main dish arrived.
It was a gorgeous, large lobster grilled to perfection with garlic and pepper. The flesh was so juicy and tender that the orgasm of my taste buds must have been heard in Japan! And I am not exaggerating!
As a side dish, I ordered green beans, which I love. If I had realised earlier that it translates to French as haricot vert, then I would have eaten a lot more of it on this trip rather than sticking to petite pois most of the time.
I also decided to break the rule and I had dessert as well. It was three scoops of home made ice-cream, which I washed down with a nice, short, black and strong espresso. I could have been one of the happiest being in our Universe, as we know it. Many people in the restaurant (and quite possibly also those in Japan) were gravely jealous of me (and my taste buds) as my eyes and face expressions gave away the quality of my dishes, particularly the lobster.
Well, let me just express an opinion that I think there should be many more of lobster farms on the face of this planet, so we can appropriately give orgasm to our taste buds.
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Jan 08, 2005 07:00 PM Burkina Faso - Ouagadougou; day two - the last one
Ouagadougou boasts several interesting sights. They include curiously shaped roundabouts, with diabolical sculptures or monuments. There are also several streets, which are lined up with colourful buildings of weird architecture, like the Avenue Kwame Nkrumah.
The taxi drivers in Ouagadougou pissed me off so much by demanding ridiculous fare to the airport, which was just 950 yards away from the hotel I was staying, that I decided to walk. I think it was a good decision since I felt I had much too much for lunch.
The airport of Ouagadougou is even smaller than Warsaw's Okecie in Poland. There is one duty free shop featuring primarily alcoholic beverages (incl. Poland's Vodka Wyborowa for CFA 3,500, slightly cheaper than Martini) taking 75 percent of the floor space, fragrance 15 percent, tobacco 8 percent, luggage and irons 2 percent. Hmm... this is what people of Burkina Faso buy immediately before they get on the plane?
Air Burkina spectacularly failed to impress me. Half an hour after scheduled departure, they informed passengers that the flight was delayed by 200 minutes. Only the magnitude of the delay was impressive. In fact the plane was 247 minutes late. So I arrived in Dakar at 01:43 hours instead of 20:30 hours, which makes it 5 hours and 13 minutes late.
The food on board looked terrifying. The flight stopped in Bamako en route, which I did not think was planned. Otherwise, the flight was quite smooth and the crew was friendly, and one of them very pretty.
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Jan 07, 2005 07:00 PM Burkina Faso - Ouagadougou; day one
Finally, I went to Ouagadougou, the capital city. Not that I particularly wanted to, but I had my flight to Dakar from there.
I got up very early, again. On the way, I saw hundreds of people on the road carrying firewood. On their heads mainly, but also on bicycles and sometimes donkey carts. Firewood included all sorts of wood – from massive tree trunks and logs to tiny twigs, depending on people’s particular needs. That is a lot of firewood and the scale of deforestation combined with bush fires is unimaginable. Already today there aren't too many trees in the country, but since the government does not provide any alternative, people have to use something to make fire to cook their meals.
I am not necessarily an environmentalist, but I do enjoy nature and sights like that make me extremely sad.
The deforestation and degradation of the natural environment in the poor countries are the richest countries’ fault! Obviously the Burkinabè government cannot afford alternative means to provide heat under the cooking pan. So, the reach countries should help them. I know, I know, it is a complex issue, and the human race is not ready for operation or sharing on this scale.
The 360 kilometre road from Bobo-Dioulasso to Ouagadougou is no longer good. It is actually very bad. Exactly half of it is practically gravel. Well, there are visible remains of the tarmac but its bits are immaterial and they have uncountable potholes in them making the driving very dangerous. A few several-kilometre long parts are gravel or sand only. I am talking about the main route in the country linking the capital city with the second largest city in the country.
I saw a horrible accident on this road, where entire, very large lorry was lying on its side. That was on the sandy part of this very busy route. I could see the driver sitting by the road with his head buried in his hands. That accident can cost him astronomical fortune. The driver, travelling at a considerable speed must have been taken by surprise that this major national highway becomes all over sudden a sandy track.
Almost exactly on the 180 kilometre, which is precisely half way between the country’s two largest cities, the road becomes well sealed, however. Even the potholes are rare. The awful part is on the Bobo-Dioulasso's side.
Ouagadougou does not make a nice impression at the first sight. It is hyper noisy and terribly fumed. I came on a day when the Sahara dust brought by the Harmattan was very dense clouding my vision. Who knows, maybe it actually was making the city a favour obscuring the city's ugliness.
I am not quite sure how it happened that I chose the shabbiest capital of all the countries I visited on this trip for its culmination. Oh, pardon, I think Banjul is shabbier but at least it is close to some fantastic beaches on the Atlantic.
Ouagadougou appears to be in the middle of nowhere with the area offering least attractions of the entire Burkina Faso. The only positive flavour of the capital is its nightlife. Ouagadougou is not predominantly Muslim and therefore quite a large number of night entertainment establishments sprang around the city.
The central Yennanga street no longer boasts terrace cafes, as it is claimed by numerous, and obviously terribly outdated, literature. More than 95 percent of the buildings have been completely demolished.
I did not manage to collect my photo permit from the National Tourist Office so I had to be careful when taking pictures. I actually wandered to the Presidential Palace but a young officer (the Independence St is packed with ministries and governmental institutions) spotted me taking a picture of it claiming that it was wrong because the president was apparently sleeping.
It was 10.30 am. I ended up showing my pictures to a general who was passing on a moped and after deleting the shots of La Maison Blanche and a few others to demonstrate how it works with a digital camera, I was left to go free. Although I love my adrenaline, I was almost cooking there. Even if I was not showing it, I was not particularly willing to give up my sexy camera to any officer to confiscate it. Not even my memory card, packed with photographs of the lovely landscape of this wonderful country.
In Burkina Faso they called me Monsieur Tranquil. I am not sure why, but if I did make this impression, maybe this helped me keep my camera. Many people in the street, usually guys, who might have wanted something from me, or maybe not, were referring to me Monsieur Tranquil. I left it unexplained.
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