Almost a year after publishing my first book about experiences in Africa, I’ve taken a little time to reflect on the project.  The book, Bamako Boom Boom, was written to chronicle the sights, sounds and emotions of visiting somewhere like Africa for the first time.  I hadn’t done much reading or research before leaving for the trip – if I had I would have known too much to present it as an initial reaction – previous knowledge would in fact have tempered the formation of my own views.

Reliving the experience by writing it down reinforced my interest in Africa, so much so that when the final manuscript was sent to be printed, I went on a reading binge – taking in all I could find on the subject.  The most notable findings were Blayne Hardens ‘Dispatches from a fragile continent’, Richard Dowden’s ‘Africa’ and various works by the Polish journalist Ryzard Kapusincki.  These comprised some of the most thoroughly researched, well thought-out, and incisive writings about Africa I could find.  I was worried that conclusions I had come to and expressed in my book, wouldn’t in fact be based on enough of a breadth of experience to be classed as anything more than naive.

I didn’t realise it before I went but Africa fascinates me.    It sits out there on it’s own, and is the continent that the world would miss the most – in a complete reversal of the value traditionally given to it in political and economic spheres.  It’s disparate collection of people, places and cultures, which never ceases to dumbfound, horrify and amaze,  is as thrilling as you’ll find.  For me, this has manifested itself into a long term interest in the continent; it’s unlikely I’ll stop thinking about it, and words and pictures are the product of the thought.  It would at least be nice to think that the first attempt at recording some of these thoughts didn’t produce something rubbish.  For the time being at least, I’m not cringing.