Ouagadougou Do

Ouagadougou, I can't help but feel a bit let down by you. I mean, you're great, and all, but you're called Ouagdougou, you're the capital of a country no one has heard of and you're the host of Africa's biggest film festival. I was expecting a whole heap of weird from you and, in all honesty, you haven't delivered. It's like you're not even trying.

Okay so I fed a live chicken to a crocodile yesterday but that was Sabou's doing - that was nothing to do with you - all you did was provide a bus service.

Even your little brother Bobo managed to put an ambulance on the roof of a bus for me.

Frankly, Ouagadougou, if that is your real name, you need to sort your weird out.

Bobo Come Back

I'm back in Bobo Dioulasso and I think I've got a new favourite mosque.

I've also got a new favourite method of watermelon transportation, but that's a whole other story...

Sunset on the Ivory Coast

I'm in Burkina Faso. Who goes there on holiday?

So far it's not disappointing, we spent a night in Bobo and that seemed like a proper city, a far cry from what I was expecting the seventh poorest country in the world to be like. I should probably qualify that last statement - the moment I decided that Bobo seemed like a proper city I was sharing the front seat of a taxi, weaving through donkeys on a dirt track, in the city centre so it could just be that Mali reset my benchmark to a lower grade.

We headed straight into the Burkinabe countryside, to Sindou Peaks, the country's premier tourist attraction. It lived up to the hype, we watched the sun set over the Cote d'Ivoire. The colours were something else.

In other news, I swapped my t-shirt with a random in a bar. As one does.