A shot of Neil, in a local publican, enjoying a drink. And we wonder why it's a tad blurred? :-)
On our first night in Sevare - prior to heading down the Niger - Glen and I were itching for a night on the town.
Alas, despite Barou's best intentions, the town was dead. Far too cold for the locals, and too late: everything was shut up. No music from any of the discotheques. No dancing.
With Barou disgruntled by not being able to offer excitement, he asked if we'd like to simply find a "local" bar for a drink. Would we, indeed.
The place with no name (adjacent to the army base) was glorious. Cheap beer and rum, spicy brochettes for 100CFA, a telly out in the courtyard with a couple dozen people watching that evening's soap, faded 70s rock tapes warbling inside, and a healthy amount of feminine commerce walking about - with quick sojourns through the door in the bar.
We loved it.
We stayed some time.
This pic is on our return through Sevare, where as you can see we were fondly remembered by a few of the locals... ;-)
I'm guessing this wasn't in the Lonely Planet Mali . . . ;)
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