"Where is it that you're going, exactly?"

An excellent question. I've been getting it a lot, unsurprisingly.

 When I hear it, though, I tend to bump up against my own little bit of reticence about travel. I do often feel that talking too much about my coming adventures - and I already talk a lot! - is a bit of a poke in the eye to those who aren't caught in the same swirl of good fortune as I am. 

When I get asked about my destination, I usually give a wave of the hand and refer to "West Africa", or at best give a mumbled response about Morocco, Mauritania, and then a general southwards ramble. I realize, though, that I'm unwillingly contributing to one of my pet peeves - the lumping together and shrinking of "Africa" into a peculiar little ball of preconceptions and remembered images. You know, that place with the black people. And the elephants. And the starvation - can't forget the starvation. Oi vey. When I answer "Where are you going" with "West Africa", it simply begs for the conversation to continue along oh-so-predictable lines. You know, the ones that run: 

"Oh, Africa! I have a friend/family member/pen pal/long lost rich dictator uncle in Africa. I'll give you their e-mail, maybe you can meet up!"

This conversation happens more regularly than one might suppose, even amongst Canadians who get noticeably peeved when asked if they know "Bob from Ontario" or some such.  Bearing this in mind, it's time for a bit of a detail festival.  Follow me for a moment as I draw out the vague mental map that I've sketched over a good many strenuous daydreaming sessions.

As many of you well know, I'm nothing if not a planner. Even when I'm ostensibly wandering aimlessly, my aimlessness generally encompasses some sort of agenda. I could never just wander off to Africa without some plan of action, and nor would I want to. Making the plans for a trip is just such a delicious part of the whole experience. I'm also fairly disciplined when it comes to these things. When I have a 30 day visa to a country, I'd rather use it efficiently than spend a week propping up yet another scruffy bar with the local collection of wandering white folk. 

That being said, low-budget travel, especially in its African variety, is all about uncertainty. Sometimes, you get stuck in a mud hut for a few days, waiting for the next truck to pass. Either you love it, or you find some other kind of traveling to do. I love it. I also love the freedom that the road grants me to make spontaneous changes to my plans. All this is a long-winded way of saying that every bit of my grand scheme should be taken with a huge hunk of salt. If I find something especially interesting to do, a project I can be of help to, or a job that can bolster my ailing travel budget, I'll likely stop and take up the opportunity, plans be damned. 

To have plans to rip up at a moment's notice, though, involves... planning. Who'd have thought? So, here goes, the grand hypothetical agenda for the next year-ish of my life:

May 1 - Fly out of TO. Land in England to see family and friends, swear at sheep, and hit my head on pub ceilings.

May 10th: Fly from London to Marrakech, Morocco.

May 11th: Meet the illustrious Mike Brown, fresh from his Sierra Leonean adventures, in Marrakech. Spend some time hiking in the High Atlas Mountains, exploring Casablanca and surrounds until Mike flies out on the 21st-ish.

From then on, I'll be rolling solo. The grand plan might look something like this: 

I'm planning to spend a month and a half, perhaps a shade longer, wandering Morocco. It's cheap, it's interesting, and my Arabic is pretty rusty. Somewhere approaching late June, I'll hitchhike the long coast road south to the border with Mauritania, on the other side of which I'll climb onto an ore car and ride the longest train in the world. 

After a month or so in Mauritania (during the "Very Hot" season. The other one is just "Hot"), it'll be time to make a choice as July rolls on: South or East? South takes me to Senegal and further points along the coast, while East would take me to Mali, the place I've dreamt the most about for many years. High summer, though, is an awkward time to be meandering about the region. In the desert, it's the hot season. On the coast, the wet. I have to choose one or the other for a few months.

Although from a traveler's point of view, mud is actually rather more annoying than heat, I'm leaning towards choosing the wet route. I'd rather brave the rain, experience the west coast in its greenest glory, and save the Sahara for October/November when conditions are ideal. That means that come July, I'll likely be on the road south into Senegal. There's much to see there, but word on the street is that things are pricey, which will probably take me on a bit faster of a beeline across the border to Guinea as July turns to August. 

From Guinea, the plan is to head South once more into Sierra Leone (Mike Brown's erstwhile home base), and thence to Liberia in all its utter historical oddity. After Liberia is the first place at which my plan becomes truly sketchy. My first choice would be to head overland into Cote D'Ivoire, but this border has been known to be both impassible in the wet season or caught up in political instability surrounding the troubles that erupted a few years ago on the Ivoirien side.  

My sources at the world's most useful messageboard leave me optimistic, though, that this will be a navigable journey. The hangover from the troubles, and the inevitable massive price inflation that the exodus of tourists and influx of aid workers and soldiers brings, will likely move me on from Cote D'Ivoire with some dispatch. If things work out the way I'm guessing, late  September or early October will see me enjoying a bit more beaten track in the rather more touristed land of Ghana.  

After that, the pull northwards will probably become inescapable as the weather in the desert cools down. The plan is to drift north through the wonderfully named, and apparently quite charming capital of Burkina Faso, Ougadougou, and from thence onwards into Mali.

Mali. I've been salivating about this country for years. The sheer amount of musical talent that emanates from this corner of the world staggers the brain, and I can't wait to park myself in Bamako, the capital, and spend a week just taking in shows. After that follows two more dreams of mine - to hike in the amazing Pays de Dogon, and to ride a barge up the Niger river all the way to Timbuktu.  I can think of few better places to ring in 2010 than under the Saharan stars, and that's exactly what I plan to do if my Malian sojourn stretches to the end of December - which it may well do.

From Mali onwards, my agenda gets fuzzier. My most likely route will take me from Mali east to Niger, then south into Benin. From Benin it'll be time to head east into Nigeria, where my e-mail tells me that millions of dollars in ill-gotten gains await me. Even without them, I may have a few friends hovering around Lagos then whom I will owe a hello to. In any case, by mid-February of 2010, I should be taking a pause to re-evaluate my cash situation and my energy levels.

If my starvation rations have left me a financial cushion, or if I've somehow managed to earn a couple bucks along the way (trust me, I'm scheming), then the next phase of the journey will start to take shape. With my fondness for lines on maps and epic overland journeys, I'm entertaining seriously the idea of spending a further 6 months or so making my way overland from Nigeria all the way to South Africa - a journey that would take me through Cameroon, Gabon, Republic of Congo, the DRC, Angola, and Namibia. It's not a trip for the faint of heart, but nor is it particularly suicidal - the Western regions of both Congos have been spared the worst of their countries' recent depredations. 

This would be a pricey proposition, which means it may not happen - I may run out of money and have to break for home,or I may decide to settle down and do something productive for a volunteer project. If the stars do align and my feet are still itching, then summer 2010 might find me in Cape Town. 

15 days and it's go time.

- Josh