22nd December 2012

We are now in Senegal.  I have no wish to create any jealousy, but, as I write we are settling down for the evening in this wonderful tranquil surrounding of the Parc national de la Langue de Barbarie. It's an ornithologists' paradise. Cormorants, pelicans, hornbills and loads of other exotic birds are all around us.

We’ve had a day where the high temperature  was up at 45c.  There are people somewhere over in the distance enjoying a Senegalese sing song. The Imam has just called the faithful to prayer, the evening air is warm and fragrant, the beer is cold and the company of other travellers delightful.

It has, however, been quite an experience getting here.

Gone Fichen!

High Street Noukchott

Try driving through that!

We had spent a couple of days on the Atlantic beach in Noukchott the capitol of Mauritania where we set off from the city which is like the biggest cowboy town in the world. We headed out of town amidst dense traffic, chaos and grinding poverty.

 As we drove down the highway we encountered frequent police road checks. One of the things that we were advised to have with us is a supply of a document known as a’Fiche’ This is a sheet with all our details laid out together with copies of passport etc. the idea is that it saves the need to write them out long hand each time we go through formalities. However as we encountered increasingly frequent police checks we found that each one asks for a fiche. It seems that they collect these pieces of paper to prove that they are doing their job.  It has now become a routine, we see the road check coming up wind down the window we hand over the fiche. The officer would take it, ask a clever question in a dialect of French which we don’t understand, we would act embarrassed and they would then send us on our way. Since we Entered Western Sahara we have got through 25 of these papers.

We were heading for the border with Senegal, we had read a lot about the area of the border. It is reputed to be full of corrupt officials, thieves, vagabonds and ‘helpers’ all deeply committed to getting money out of the innocent traveller , as they have what they believe is a captive audience. I was particularly anxious to avoid this really difficult hassle.

We had been told of an alternative route but still with the proviso that there are spotters with binoculars who if they see travellers avoiding the frontier they will send out ‘guide’ to bring them back to the fold.

Lost in the Desert

 

The alternative route is not sign posted. We had explicit directions from a professional guide. He told us that this was a good road easily passable and it is easy to find. We should drive 140 km from the capital and the road would be on the right. It is plain to see, no mistake, a good road. Well, we drove 145 km and there on the right was a wide road it was not macadamised but it was quite well graded. We drove this road for about 10km and it became a difficult drive. I stopped a guy driving a camel, he has a kid under his arm who was bleating in protest, presumably having formed the view that he was destined for the pot…… who knows. I asked the man ‘Is this the road to Daima?' he looked surprised and told me that it is the road for the Atlantique. He was less convincing when he drew me a map on the sand, showing that we could take a side turning that would take us to the border which we already knew was about 80 km away. We drove on and eventually saw a very rustic looking road going off left. We asked a driver for directions and I really could not understand his reply but he seemed to think it would be a good idea to take the turning. So we took it. After a while it became less of a road and then became a sandy track.  We know it was sandy because for the first time we got well and truly stuck in a trough of sand!  I engaged the 4 wheel drive we couldn’t get free. I engaged the diflock still no joy. We got out the sand ladders eventually using both sets and we were still stuck. With hindsight I am sure that our inexperience was a real factor. But nevertheless stuck is stuck.

 

Our friends at the Zebrabar said that's not stuck - it's nothing!

Before we left I had deliberated long and hard about whether or not to have a winch fitted, very expensive and not so simple to use. In the end I had a winch fitted on the simple basis that if we need it once only it will have been worth it.

Back to the desert we were stuck in I felt I had explored all options  I payed out the winch cable and fixed it around an Acacia bush and we winched ourselves out. Fantastic! As we drove away I noticed that I had dropped one of my diesel gloves, oh never mind.

Ping then said ‘I dropped a loaf of bread and I forgot to pick it up. Oh well.

Off we went it was a really difficult drive lots of loose sand and steep inclines we then came to realise that we were losing a clear track, now dodging around the numerous thorn bushes. I am still picking out thorns from my clothing and I am unable to wear my shoes as the soles are full of steely thorns that come right through.

On we went and as the sun started to go down we had to stop for the night and we realised that we were pretty uncomfortably close to being lost in the bloody desert. Despite having 30 gallons of diesel and about the same of water and plenty of food we started to fantasise about calls to Falmouth Coastguard!

Overnight we decided that we could either continue on in the belief that it would eventually pop out somewhere useful, maybe........... Or go back. We opted to retrace our steps in the morning.

Morning came and I made a recce on foot to find that our tracks were barely discernible, but managed to find them retracing our steps was ok for a while. We had travelled about 20km into the desert. Travelling SW so we found what tracks we could and used the compass, after a while the tracks disappeared altogether and we had to rely on the compass.  It was clear that we had to find our way over a ridge which was very sandy at the top and so impassable,  constantly making foot recce we eventually found a way over it was quite difficult and we really didn’t know where we were. Suddenly we saw some tyre tracks  and as we got close, Ping noticed they were our tracks from the night before. It was an amazing feeling. Then it dawned on us that we would encounter the same trough that we had been stuck in the previous day.  Sure enough Ping spotted it just in time for us to stop. This time I was able to drive around it but not before I sawed down a couple of bushes. As we passed the trough, Ping said ‘I see the bread is gone'.

By this time we kind of knew what we were doing and easily used the track. Just before we reached the road I heard a loud whistle and could see a shepherd on a ridge waving vigorously at us.  I stopped got out and went to greet a strange man who was unmistakably wearing my diesel glove! He said in in a language I don’t understand. I think he said "Excuse me but I think you dropped this mate"!

                                                    
                                                           The Shepherd who found

                                                                         

                                                                     the glove

And handed it back to me amid much hand shaking and back slapping we drove on back on to the road and then back to the highway. We decided that this time we would just brave the onslaught at the first border.

As we drove on after about 20km we found the correct road much further on than we had been told it was not easy to spot and was till a quite difficult drive for about 70 km. We reached a town and then drove through about 50km of National park with a truly awful road and suddenly we were at the border.

Here were a couple of cars passing through no hassle just a few officials to bribe, er sorry pay taxes to pass. And we breezed out onto the Senegal side.

 

Then onto the highly praised Zebrabar where the camping is well managed the beer is cold and the family who run it are so pleasant helpful and good company. We plan to stay here for Christmas before we move on to The Gambia and beyond.

Happy Christmas!

 

We did give Christmas greetings in our last entry, but as we write this on the 23rd December it seems right to just say Happy Christmas and very best wishes for the New Year.

 

Do please keep your emails coming It always so good to hear from home even trivial waffle is appreciated.

noelbow51@gmail.com  pingbow54@gmail.com

 

Lots of luv

 

Noel +Ping