The first clue Mali was different was that the border staff had music playing. I realized I had not heard music (except on a TV in a restaurant) since Spain! It was a very relaxed entry. I bought the “Yellow Card” insurance ($80) that provides cover for 15 West African (ECOWAS countries) and the next four countries I will be visiting.
This is what it looks like:

I needed money after border expenses and my big fuel purchase so I stopped in the border town of Nioro de Sahel. It took only minutes to meet a bank security guard who wanted to help (it was Friday PM and everything official had shut down early). A terrifying ride on the back of his little scooter/bike, a meeting with some Arab money changers and I had my West African CFAs (1$CDN=492 CFA (but not the lousy exchange rate I accepted).
It was now getting late and was very warm and the prospect of a few more hours on the road was enough to get me looking for a hotel. And find one I did, the “Auberge Yonki Jinu Palace” that is basically a large villa with a few rooms to rent and you live with the rest of the family. There was a huge, loud rain storm late that night with high winds that scattered most everything outside that was not tied down. They had to bring the portable generator inside as it was getting too wet (there was no municipal electric power that day). It was very loud but it kept the ceiling fan turning and I was happy.

Next day off to an early start with dark clouds on the horizon but they soon vanished and the hot sun took over. The road was slow but steady the 444km to Bamako. Petrol stations were surprisingly scarce. At one station that had “L’essence” had no power so they had modified the pumps to work by pulling manually on a long lever.

However the roadside scenery and activity was the most interesting of the trip so far. The iconic old Baobob trees were evident.

Also, I liked seeing the mud brick construction for all types of structures including mosques as well as houses.

Another type of mosque construction.

Some curious kids at a stop for a cold drink in a small Muslim village. The young girl at the left had to ask permission twice to be in the photo. The boys didn't.

Also, there was a lot of water standing in the fields and ditches and rivers swollen to overflowing their banks in many places. This resulted in a few shallow water crossings and young boys waiting to guide you across.

The human scenery was also lively. Malian women wear in colourful print dresses regardless if they are working in a field or selling in the market. They usually are carrying something large on their head, a pan stacked with fruit or vegetables, firewood or water container. It’s quite the feat to see especially in a crowded market where 4 or 5 women stand together chatting but somehow not knocking anything off each others heads! Also, just seeing women active in public is a big change from Northern Africa despite the fact about half of Malians are Muslim.

Bamako came as advertised with swarms of little Chinese made motorbikes surrounding the car and truck traffic in the big city of 1.7 million, I believe. A hot (isn’t it always?) late afternoon search for two guidebook camping/hotel spots found both of them out-of-business. It was disappointing because one place “Le Cactus” was a regular meeting spot for overland travelers and I was hoping for some company for a change.I was on my own now and cruised along the mighty Niger River when I spotted a sign for a hotel I recognized from something I read. The sign, of course gave no sign as to where the hotel was located off the main road. But I cleverly followed the back streets to get closer to the river and there it was!
It had a new name and, at first glance looked too expensive for my budget. There was a large swimming pool, patio and gardens overlooking the river. Some obviously well-to-do young Malians were playing volleyball in the pool and enjoying drinks on the patio. Better still, the non-climitese rooms were very reasonable (7000CFA). After a quick shower, I was soon admiring the fast-flowing Niger River with a cold Castel beer – the first since Europe.

Off early again the next day but due to some GPS confusion I ended up doing a circle tour of Bamako crossing the river a couple more times than necessary. It was Sunday morning and the roads were fairly quiet. I don’t like cities very much but was glad my enforced sightseeing gave me a better feel for this city.

After about 250km a very large thunderstorm appeared about 2:00PM as I neared Segou. The sky blackened and tremendous gusts of wind blew dust and sand that reduced visibility considerably. I was looking for some sort of shelter from the rain I saw a hotel with a big covered entrance and stopped just as the rain started. You can guess the rest, I ended up staying there (they had WiFi) for the night. This place was also on the banks of the Niger and just as scenic as in Bamako.

I was also broke. I spent an hour talking to the Royal Bank trying to find out why I could not get cash advances on my Visa (no debit cards most of west Africa). Nobody seemed to know anything and thought the card should work. A referral to Visa International produced no results. I know European visa cards do work here and it is the best way to get local currency. In the end I had money sent by Western Union and it “arrives” electronically within minutes.
I met an interesting old Dogon artist who spoke good english. Aside from trying to sell me some great artwork he said since the coup 2 years ago the tourist trade has all but disappeared in Mali. Not surprising but a big job loss to a lot of Malians.

From Segou, I headed due south to the border with Burkina Faso. It seemed as if the greenery became more lush with every kilometer and the air more hot and humid.

Then it started to rain, which was nice because it pulled the temperature down to about 25C. I almost felt cold!

The loading of cars and trucks provided a pretty steady source of amazement.

I had read that the border officials try to collect an unofficial departure fee of 10 Euros and I was determined not to pay it. So I had moved my passport from my wallet so they would not see it. Well by doing that my passport managed to get a bit wet from the rain. At the border, the official took my passport to another building and I thought here it comes! To my disgrace he returned my passport in a plastic bag so that it would not get any wetter. No fee.