Searching for horse games in Africa

6:13pm Thursday 16th October 2008

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Bamako, Mali. I arrived under a leadened sky which looked Like England in November, only the heat stepping out of the plane assured it was not. An ancient taxi driver in an almost equally old taxi negotiated his way along the dual carriage way avoiding the cattle and herders who crossed quite unconcerned. Before we reached the city the heavens opened and soon the road was awash. The driver peered through the scratched windsreeen while the wipers made no attempt to clear the water on it. As we progressed I noticed his right hand start to shake, at first I thought it might be Parkinsons disease, but the further we went the more his hands shook. We stalled twice; it took ages to start again because it involved joining three wires together to hot-wire it and his shakes meant he kept missing connecting the wires. After driving through several torrents sweeping litter and mud down the side streets, we got to the hotel and it stopped raining. It is then end of the rainy season and the showers are few and far between, but they do bring a welcome respite to the heat, dust and smog that make the mid afternoon almost unbearable. While organising my trip to the plains below the Dogon escarpment, I visited a racing stables at the Hippodrome in the North of the city. The seqson doesn't start until December, but the Trainer Abdou Sanogo kindly showed me round. The horses are all Maur, what we would call Moorish and were round the 14 hand mark. The best horses had the more dished face of the Barb. The jockeys are all between 10 and 14 and from 30 to 40 kilos. The races, depending on the class, are between 1700 metres for the novices to 3600 for the top horses. The champions were kept inside in cool stables with several fans, while the rest were tied by a rope round their pastern to stakes. Most were in the shade. Only stallions race and they looked well, whereas the mares were decidedly thin, though the foald looked well. The racecourse is a big circuit round the open Hippodrome; it is a rough well-used sand track with unexpected gullies, which do at times cause casualties. Before the season commences the whole area is cut back to allow the spectators to see the far side of the track. The thing that intrigued me was the feeding. For roughage the horses are fed Harricot Verts leaves, Groundnut leaves and coarse long-stalked wild grasses. The hard feed is up to 6 kilos a day of Sorgum or Millet which is steeped before feeding. On Saturday I move on to Djene to what I am told is the biggest horse market in the country. After that I hope to visit my guide's grandfather who, I am assured will be able to tell me something of the old equine culture;