| We pass through the large village of Tissili and into the Tissili Gorge, which will lead eventually to the Tessaout river valley. Fifty children run barefoot beside us in the village, as if we are their first ever visitors. Clearly we're not. They ask for gifts: "Stylo, stylo!" they cry. Do they understand French? If we had a supply of pens with us it would be tempting to distribute them, but would it upset the local economy if we give them presents? Better perhaps just to buy fresh food. |
