This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: A la poursuite de l'aventure 7 - Fin

^{As my primary language is not English, there are probably some mistakes in my translation.}

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (@vcelier), but @terresco, a French guy.

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We had finally reached Bamako. We thought it was the end of the journey that had taken us from Europe to Mali to sell our car. The sale of the old Mercedes (previous article), which had used its last strength in the sands of the desert, was to finance our return to Europe. Unfortunately the price of air tickets from Bamako, especially for a one-way flight, was prohibitive. Once again we had to change our plan. Senegal was a more tourist destination, there were more flights to Europe, we could probably do a better deal there. Yet it was necessary to go to Dakar from Bamako, by other means than air, it goes without saying.

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And now by train

We learned that there was a train that left a village, close to the capital. A village with the pretty name of Koulikoro. The train was going to Dakar by a track of more than 1200 kilometers. The duration of the trip was 36 hours. The prices were very cheap, especially in second class where we booked immediately. We had three days before the next train, we left on foot for Koulikoro. Finally a little further than what we had estimated on our only map of West Africa, the means of transportation had the advantage of being free. It is easy to find accommodation in the villages. We arrive, we ask to speak to the chief, we ask him for the news, we explain where we come from, where we go and why. An hour later, sometimes more, we are automatically assigned the hut reserved for passing travelers. Fantastic African hospitality.

We finally embarked. Like all public transportation the train was late and crowded. It was not a surprise, used to long bush taxi trips we no longer feared promiscuity. The atmosphere was very warm. It was as if all of West Africa was given appointments on this train. Each one gave the news of his route, prepared the following ones. Our short-term plan was clear in this Babylon we were already dreaming of future trips to these countries which we sometimes discovered to names.

The meal times were the best, everyone shared their food and as strangers everyone wanted us to taste their cuisine and specialties. The whole trip was not so gourmet, we took the opportunity to recover some weight so that we would not scare our parents back.

It was in this train that I met the first candidates for immigration. The first of a long series. The subject was not yet too much used by the politicians, and was not the subject of simplistic articles in the press. For me it was new. I was trying to understand this craze. I realized over the following decades that many things had escaped me. I saw it as an adventure of life, a journey like we did. Some had incredible paths in mind that I did not understand, not knowing the constraints. However, we had traveled along the possibilities and opportunities of our trip.

There is only a single track, so you have to stop to wait to be sure that the train opposite has passed. Other stops are more mysterious. The train stops without any explanation, as with SNCF. The passengers go down, to try to find some freshness and maybe a little space. The wagons become ovens and the promiscuity does not help. The area is semi-desert, only a few baobabs offer a fragile shade that we dispute with the rare grass fighting for its survival.

The fun part of it is that the train left without warning. No whistles like Western American trains in westerns. Sleeping for two, three, sometimes four hours, the passengers hastily gathered their belongings and ran behind the train in a magnificent mess. It was in the cries and laughter that everyone climbed doors and windows to find his place. Fortunately the train is not very fast at startup! Just installed and recovered from our emotions, it could happen that the train stops for two more hours!

Welcome to Dakar

Fun but long. Announced for 36 hours it took more than 5 days. We thought to take a break or two but we gave up, we landed in Dakar. One night on the beach at the Grande Corniche did not allow us to recover as much as we wanted. The next day heading to the Air Afrique office to buy the return tickets, it was absolutely necessary that we have enough money, asking for help to the parents would have been a terrible defeat. This was the case, tickets in pocket, we had two days left to enjoy Dakar. We explored the nights and days, our last days on African soil, our last days of a journey that, like the train, was to last one month and took more than four.

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The time of appraisal

Once back in Montpellier to our dear university we did not have much money, I remember to count the small coins for two ham sandwiches. The trip had engulfed the money from our work two years earlier and that of the sale of the car. Not good for budding economists but I think we never thought about it, we would have started again the next day under the same conditions. It may even be today, 30 years later, that I become aware of the financial situation.

From a human experience point of view, travel might have changed our conception of life forever. We had discovered the reality of a continent that made many adventurers dream. Concerned first of all with our simple project, after the sale of the car we were very interested in people, their lives, their little pleasures and their difficulties.

A love for Africa was born, slowly, sometimes painfully, Africa does not give itself up immediately, you have to know how to love it for itself. A love that has never failed, still alive today. Left to come back and tell, we came back different. Going as amateur adventurers, we returned travelers, our adventure was humanized. When dream meets reality ...

The End

-- @terresco

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6