"Agadez" a Departement d' Agadez Travel Page by titti

I arrived in Agadez late in the night, after some 16 hours by car along the Niamey-Arlit tarmac road. I couldn’t feel any kind of excitement approaching that said-to-be magical city. I was too tired, too frightened by the weary journey. I hate traveling by car.
I just felt the need of a shower, of a bed. I got them and I went to sleep without even realizing I’d finally reached that so long dreamed destination.
The next day, early in the morning, I was out in a freezing wind, wandering around, trying to find my way despite the thin powder, coming from the desert, that was almost blinding me.
The city was deserted; not a soul in sight. It was Christmas morning. It seems that everywhere they celebrate Christmas.
I had all my senses sharpened to feel the atmosphere, to hear any sounds, to smell the place.
But nothing happened. The city was just a small city, like some others I’ve already visited: unpaved sandy roads, small buildings, mostly made of a mud mixture (banko), lots of stalls selling any kind of goods. And rubbish everywhere.
If I think about Agadez, even now, the first image that comes to mind is garbage. Any kind of no longer needed stuff was along the streets; spread across the streets or piled in small heaps at the corners, or filling not very deep holes in the ground. It was disgusting. It was sad.
I spent a few days in Agadez and I could see through the garbage. Thanks to the people I started to feel the magical atmosphere I’ve heard about, I had long awaited.

According to what I was told, Agadez is packed with rather annoying street vendors; they spend the day, and part of the night, walking the main roads, trying to get your attention with the most incredible subjects and, sometimes, just with their beautiful appearance. Then, when you’re a bit involved, they carefully extract something from their pocket, their bags, and start making business. Same with regard to shop sellers: they walk tirelessly in front to their shops inviting tourists to have a look “just for looking, not buy!”.
All this could be very tiring but, sometimes, among the others, you can find very lovely and helpful people, who soon forget they are there to sell something to you. I remember Issouou Hassane, from Talak shop: he never asked me to look or to buy any of the stuff his tiny shop was packed with; he was there when I left for the desert; he was there when I came back. Always very helpful and caring about me and my luggage.
I suppose you can also make good business, if you’re looking for it. I bought one of my best necklaces in one of the myriad of small shops spread all around the town. Wonderful white agate; the old shop owner, looking at my glittering eyes realized immediately I wouldn’t have resisted. I bought it at my third visit!