01 The water tower

The mechanism is simple and sits in the neighbouring pillar: it rains enormously here. The coast receives 3,729.9 millimetres a year, and although the figure drops inland it remains a huge volume concentrated between June and September. That water falls on a high plateau and from there it distributes in every direction.

What makes the Fouta Djallon special is not only that it rains but that it holds. The plateau's soils and formations work as natural reservoirs that fill in the wet season and release water through the rest of the year, which is what keeps the rivers flowing once the rain stops.

A narrow path cut into the rock running along the base of an enormous overhang of pale, cracked stone that closes over it like a roof; on the left the vertical wall drops sheer and the path advances in worn rock steps; on the right, dozens of threads of water fall from the top of the cliff forming a curtain of fine cascades that break apart among ferns and hanging vegetation in vivid green; at the far end of the path, under the overhang, a tiny figure in yellow clothing gives the scale of the whole.
Cascades falling down the wall of a Fouta Djallon canyon. All this water ends up, kilometres later, in three different rivers.Haypo / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 2.0 FR·CC BY-SA 2.0 FR

02 Three rivers and four countries downstream

The list of what rises here is what turns the fact into more than a geographical curiosity. The Niger, which then draws an immense arc through Mali and Niger before reaching the sea in Nigeria. The Senegal, which marks the border between Senegal and Mauritania. The Gambia, which gives a whole country its name and its shape. And smaller courses such as the Corubal.

The river that names the Gambia, the one that separates Senegal from Mauritania and the one that crosses Mali all rise on the same plateau, a day's drive from Conakry.

Put that way, the expression makes sense: what happens in these mountains is felt thousands of kilometres away. Irrigated farming in the Senegal valley, fishing on the inner Niger or the ferries of the Gambia depend, ultimately, on how much water falls and is held on a handful of Guinean plateaus.

A mountain valley seen from height, covered in very intense green: in the foreground and middle ground spreads a mosaic of dense woodland and cultivated plots, among which four or five round huts with conical thatched roofs and a rectangular building with a pale metal roof appear; tall maize fields and scrub grow around the houses; towards the back the ground rises in successive lines of wooded hills and, above them, a band of low white cloud rests on the slope; the sky above is a pale blue-grey.
An inhabited valley in the highlands. These slopes and these soils are what absorb the wet season's water and release it afterwards.Aboubacarkhoraa / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0·CC BY-SA 4.0

03 What it looks like on the ground

It is worth adjusting the mental image, because it does not look like what you expect of a river's source. There is no signposted spring with a plaque and a fountain. What there is is an undulating plateau, high and very extensive, cut by canyons, with wooded slopes and large expanses of bare rock.

Those bare rock surfaces have a local name: bowé, laterite plateaus where barely any grass grows and where water runs across the surface instead of soaking in. They alternate with very green, cultivated valleys. The combination of the two — what holds and what sheds — is precisely the hydrological system the figures are talking about.

A laterite plateau in the heart of the dry season: the lower half of the frame is stony ground in a deep reddish brown, with blocks of rock breaking through clumps of grass burnt entirely to straw; towards the back, a line of low flat-crowned green trees stands out along the plateau's edge, and beyond it the ground falls away into a wooded valley fading into bluish tones; the cloudless sky fills the upper band in an intense blue that pales towards the horizon.
A bowal in the dry season: bare laterite and burnt grass. In July this same surface sheds water into the valleys at full speed.Fantabinta224 / Wikimedia Commons / CC0·CC0

04 What to do with this

First, do not go looking for a specific point. Here you do not visit "the source of the Niger" the way you visit a monument: you travel a region, and what you see is waterfalls, canyons, streams and plateaus. The experience is one of landscape and route, not of reaching a sign and taking a photograph.

Second, choose the month with this fact in hand. The same water that makes the Fouta Djallon what it is turns the wet season into a serious logistical problem: between June and September the tracks break up and the streams rise. From December to April the ground is dry and passable, and the waterfalls are still there, with less flow but reachable.

And third, use it to read the whole trip. Conakry presents itself as a coastal capital, cramped and difficult, and it is. But it stands at the foot of the region that supplies water to half of West Africa, and that is why almost everyone who comes to Guinea ends up heading inland. The city is the door; the water is the reason.

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Lucía Montes

Worth Knowing editor · Flowtravel

Lucía chases the fact that changes how you look at a place.