When I was younger and the world was larger, I heard Timbuktu (with various spellings) mentioned much more often, generally in the context of the back of beyond, the ends of the earth, a place so far away that you would have to travel into and out of the heart of darkness just to get there. Now, the world is much smaller, there are fewer blank places on the map (not counting a section of New Jersey) and if you want to visit Timbuktu, just go to Google Earth, type in "Timbuktu, Mali," hit "enter," and Bob's your uncle.

In To Timbuktu: A Journey Down the Niger, Mark Jenkins and his three companions (two of whom are there for all the wrong reasons and are lucky to have survived their ignorance)go out of their way to get to the fabled Islamic city the old fashioned way. By kayaking from the headwaters of the Niger to Timbuktu and into the Gulf of Guinea, they travel from the darkness of the unknown into the twilight of legend and on into the light of the modern world, for until their journey the headwaters were unknown (well, the natives knew, but natives worldwide rarely count in the annals of civilization) and no one had ever mad the journey from beginning to end.

Jenkins' account of the preparation, journey and aftermath is brutally honest and candid, with equal portions of foolishness, heroism, terror and naivety. He also includes generous helpings from the accounts of past explorers, from the Greeks and Romans onward. One might think that the river and its dangerous fauna (hippos, crocs, people) might be the greatest perils, but he shows us that bureaucracy can be an even more formidable foe, deceived only by forged travel papers and placated only by bribes, especially in areas where one local warlord is more powerful than the entire country.

Jenkins is a perceptive observer, both of the land through which he travels and the people whom he meets. He documents poverty, injustice and despair with the same sensibility that he uses to record ancient lifestyles, wisdom and joy. While his account often makes the reader glad he is not there with Jenkins, for example when he kayaks through an "impenetrable" wall of river debris after a storm or when Jenkins realizes that being so low in his kayak his butt is in a perfect position to be chomped by a crocodile, we are always glad he is there, telling us what we missed.

Very little of the book is actually about Timbuktu, or Africa for that matter. It's an adventure story, plan and simple, but the author respects the countrymen so much which is so often lacking in these types of books. I'll read this a few more times, no doubt.

Well written and and interesting read. I like the way the author incorporated some historical information about travelers down the Niger River, as well as an account of their own adventure. I want to read more of his books. I heard Mark Jenkens interview on an NPR show recently. He is a fascinating gentleman.

Terrific, personal narrative writing. Totally absorbing. Good story. Young men (then; in my own generation) have an adventure finding the source of any kayaking the headwaters of the Niger River.

This book has been on my "to read" list for many years. I'm so glad I finally got to it. It is the story of one adventurous man in his 20's who has traveled the world the hard way: walking, climbing, kayaking, by boat, motorcycle, bicycle, and on foot. This time he and 3 boyhood friends from Wyoming travel to the source of the Niger in Sierra Leone during war and tribal conflict. They kayak through sieves of vines and fallen trees, shot waterfalls, bribe every guide and chief, fight the worry of disease, insects, crocs, hippos, and hunger. Finally, the group splits when the Niger is over a mile wide. The author continues on to Timbuktu (a disappointment), then home to a pregnant wife. Part of the book reads like poetry, part like journal. I moves along quickly. It is the first book in a long time that I wanted to reread immediately.

The adventurer/writer showed a good understanding and Africa and its cultural heritage. I love that he incorporated the cultural aspects into his team's journey along the Niger river.

just finished reading this excellent travel account of a man and his friends' explorations of the dark continent. After many years have passed, they again return to reclaim the original goal of reaching the unreachable: Timbuktu. What he learns along his journey is that it is not only the destination that matters but what is attained along the way... excellent read!

I gave this two stars ( meaning 'it was ok') because there were some interesting moments, and I did actually finish the book. But most of the time I was either angry, cringing, or laughing at things that weren't supposed to be funny. The guy isn't shy about being top-dog.

I would love to travel the river between the Fouta Dialon in Guinea to Bamako with a series of local guides. It wouldn't have been that difficult to arrange and you wouldn't need to smuggle guns into Guinea to do it. But then I guess you wouldn't be able to claim that you were the first to do it in your own kayak. So to me it really had the feel of a stunt rather than a genuine exploration. And I was left with the impression that the author wanted everything to seem/be riskier than was necessary.

I happended to live as a Peace Corps volunteer in one of the Mali villages at the same time he passed. I spent a lot of time on the river, but I didn't have the luck to see these guys come through. I'm sure I would have enjoyed talking to them about what the river was like upstream across the Guinea border.

I see that the author has several books about great adventures he's been on. If you enjoy these kinds of books, maybe it would be better to start with a different one than this. With that much success as an author, maybe his more recent books express a little more humility. However, I can see how people would give this book five stars because stuff happens when you set out to make stuff happen. But for me it was an uncomfortable read.

This book comprises several adventures: two expecting dads and their 2 friends kayaking the Niger in Guinea and then the author motorcycling in Mali along with reminiscences of traveling through Morocco and Algeria as 20ish-year-olds. It’s written well, and the interspersed tales of ill-fated European explorers is fascinating.

But the good stories and good writing can’t overcome my distaste for the author’s arrogance, irresponsibility, and disdain for two of his fellow travelers.

Actually what bothered me most was his casual description of stealing from Moroccans as a young guy without a hint of remorse. Later everything is stolen from him (by Moroccans or Algerians, I can’t remember), and he’s angry.

Also irritating was his frequent generalisms about Africa. It didn’t have to be negative, but whenever he said something beginning with “In Africa…” he came off sounding like he was too ignorant to realize how little he knew. (How much can anyone know about an entire continent, let alone someone who hasn’t lived there for any significant portion of his life?)

There are some real great moments in this book that makes me crave the kind of whole hearted adventure that Mark is known for. There's a paragraph in the book that describes the youthful adventurer which I found revealing and also slightly disheartening. Wondering whether I am no longer able to travel freely and spontaneously as I once did in my youth.
"It was January 1977. Mike and I were both 18. Of course we didn't know it then, but there are only certain times in your life when you can do certain things. If you don't do them at that very moment, they pass you by forever and you and your life become something else. Lighting out to see the world is one of those things. If you are too young, you will be hurt by the malformed people who prey on innocents, and never again feel safe or trust humans. If you are too old, the seeds of cynicism and fearfulness have already taken root and you shall be a loathsome traveler. You must be young enough to believe in your own immortality in a mysterious, ineluctable way, but old enough to understand that you could die if you get too messed up."

Two stars because there were some good sections of nature/adventure passages. Otherwise, if you wonder whether you have yet read the most asinine, self-centered piece of travel literature written by a middle aged man and his best friend who both want to act like adventurous 15 year olds, well, this just might qualify. The author and his best friend since childhood, Mike, recruit two other acquaintances for an epic kayak trip on the Niger River. Before the trip even begins, the author is backstabbing their two companions. Throughout the trip, The narrator and his bestie behave like a couple of teenagers with an obsession for unnecessary risks and a desire to show how “manly” they are. Both have wives in late pregnancy back home and the narrator spends chunks of the book explaining why his “special” relationship with his wife makes this a logical time for a risky trip to a remote region. Local people throughout are props, especially African women who are mainly described in terms of their sex appeal.

This is more of an adventure story than a book on the culture of Mali, despite its title. While the author's goal of being the first men ever to kayak the Niger River from source to end is extremely impressive, I had a hard time liking the author himself. I felt like he took some really stupid risks that would only cross the mind of a 20 year male (the problem is, of course, that Jenkins is not that). The writing is very fragmented, and I couldn't figure out why he kept flashbacking to any earlier trip through the Sahara.

Something else that bothered me was that Jenkins often painted Africa as something exotic and sexualized -- the mysterious and dangerous "dark continent". I don't think he intended this, but maybe therein lies the problem.

It's an interesting read -- not a bad book for a plane ride, but if you're looking for a good book about Mali, this isn't it.