Once I finished with Monsieur Guindo I caught the ubiquitous public transport of Mopti. In other words I was paddled across the harbour in a pirogue bound for Bar Bozo, where I am now sitting in the heat haze of the early afternoon with a cold Castel beer, digesting my omelette lunch and enjoying the gentle breeze which always cools this great spot.
Down below in the glittering waters of the Niger little wet liquorice boy bodies are diving and splashing around like dolphins or shoals of fish, reminding me of never ending summer days by the lake in a very different place: children laughing and diving endlessly into the deep dark water amongst tall pine trees- the same joy and I suppose the same suspension of time. Those days never seemed to end.