Niamey: Where Paint Meets Desert Dust

just got back from niamey and my hands are permanently ochre. like seriously, scrubbed them raw and still got that *great market residue under my nails. this city breathes different - hot, dry, and buzzing with creative chaos that makes your soul itch to grab a can. weather's right now feeling like a crispy 27.84°C desert hug, hope you like your air crackly and your water bottles sweating bullets.

crashed at this hostel run by a french-algerian dude who collects vintage aerosols. told me niamey's street art scene is wild because the police don't care about tags but flip out if you paint government walls. heard this over breakfast:

“someone told me that if you wanna find the real underground stuff, follow the goats near the grand mosque. they know where the freshest drips are.”

the humidity's at 8% meaning my paint dried before the nozzle left the can. pro tip: bring water bombs instead of beer - locals will trade you for a sketch. if you get bored of the ochre dust, agadez is a bumpy 8-hour bus ride north and ouagadougou's just a skip over the border. both have walls begging for love.

“i heard that the embassy walls get repainted every moon cycle, so time your midnight session carefully or you’ll be chatting with armed guards.”

ate this insane millet porridge called fura da nono near the riverside - tasted like fermented sand but gave me energy to tag for hours. check the market food stalls but ignore the yelp reviews, locals say they're written by aid workers trying to sound woke. instead, this travel forum has legit gossip about secret spots.

pressure dropped to 977 mb yesterday - felt like the sky was holding its breath before a sneeze. perfect weather for sticky bombing walls. just wish i’d brought more vallelunga* caps. the great market sells everything except decent art supplies. weird vibe where capitalism and street poetry collide.