Category: route

We did one of the obligatory tourist trips in Dakar, a day trip to Goree Island. This tiny 900 m by 350 m island is a UNESCO world heritage sight just off the coast of Dakar and is primarily of interest because it was used during the slave trade but also because it still has so many (reasonably) well preserved colonial buildings and is really very picturesque.

There is a bit of debate as to the extent of slaving going on from Goree but it was undoubtedly one of the places used by the Portuguese, Dutch, English and French to trade slaves. The museums on the island certainly hammer this shocking point home and I felt a bit dirty by the end of this being a white man in this place with such a bad history of abuse of Africa.

The islands history may also have had an effect on some of the locals on the island as one in particular insisted vociferously and almost violently that we pay a 10% tourist tax to be on the island! He held Keith’s arm and wouldn’t let go until we physically ripped him off! We are pretty used to being bothered now but this was another level, the guy was insisting he was official but he was in plain clothes and was flashing a badge at us that I could have printed out when I was 13. Of course he only targeted the white people arriving by boat and the 400 other people on the boat didn’t get any attention at all.

This encounter somewhat soured our visit of an otherwise idyllic and beautiful island with a past and a message to tell still. I can’t help feeling though that rather than treating the place in the right way people seem to be out to exploit the place in every way possible, including making toobaps (white people, or literally “converters”) pay more than 3 times what the locals have to pay to get a boat or museum ticket.

Many of our friends and family had expressed concern when they heard Mauritania was to feature on part of our route. Four French tourists had been killed there in late December. This attack precipitated the cancellation of the Dakar rally. The Israeli embassy was later bombed and there were reports of another French tourist being murdered close to the border as we were in Western Sahara.

Sadly it would seem that most people have decided to heed their friends advice and skip the place entirely. Apart from other overlanders like ourselves the country is void of tourists. This is a shame as Mauritania and its people are pure gold and those skipping the country are missing out on a rare gem.

While in Mauritania we were treated with great hospitality. The guy who ran our hotel in Atar, Bouha, went to great effort to keep us topped up with tea. This is no small thing. Making tea in Mauritania is an art form and a time consuming activity to boot. Bouha also invited us to his family home and cooked us up a great cous cous. This kind of hospitality was very unexpectedly extended to us again by the Mauritanian border guards at Diama. Normally the border guards are your enemy. Hassle is quite often their specialty and they tend to dish this out in large quantities. We saw this in great effect at Rosso where we were held for two hours as the police attempted to scam us. Rosso has been rated as the worst border crossing in Africa hence our attempt to avoid it. The Diama guys however invited us in for a great meal and even gave us a room at their border post for the night.

The African surfers recently put up a post which included a Moroccan quote which translates to: “Those who do not travel do not know the good of men”. I’d never heard the quote before but its meaning I have come to know as this trip has unfolded.

We both feel a bit like our time in the Adrar region has just been a taster for future trips we will make here. The Adrar is a high plateau above the desert, up to 1000m. It’s rocky and sandy but supports a lot more life than the desert normally would. We’ve seen lizards and birds and even a hare, though we haven’t seen the elusive antelope that are supposed to be here too.

On Friday we traveled out to Chinguetti up on the plateau. After a relaxed start we got underway, refueling the bikes and re-inflating the tyres after their ordeal in the desert crossing. We used about as much fuel as calculated so it was a relief to have gotten things right despite some worries at the time in the dunes when you know you are using a ton of fuel to keep the bike moving through the soft sand.

We took the Amugjar pass up to the plateau, amazingly this used to be the main road to Chinguetti until they opened up the much faster and direct Ebnou pass.
It took us a couple of hours to do the pass, much faster than the supposed three hours in the Sahara Overland guide book, but I guess we were on lightly loaded bikes and we were blitzing it because it was just such a fun piste!

We still stopped quite a bit to just admire the breathtaking vistas and to take pictures (which fail to do the scenery justice) and take on water (we didn’t take enough for such a short ride) in the 35 degree heat.

It was sheer pleasure to be out in the wild with the bikes running well and a fantastic piste to open up on. There were times we nearly over did it and had to reel ourselves in a bit, but we had fun and really enjoyed ourselves.

The only casualty was the end of Keith’s clutch lever which broke when he over did it trying to drift the bike around a sandy mountain hairpin. Not too serious and easily filed down to a nice smooth end that won’t break again! We had contemplated cutting them off anyway so it was a bonus!

On the way up the pass we saw the shell of Fort Saganne, which was actually made for the film of the same name. It’s not huge or impressive, but it’s location is. Sitting astride a commanding view on the edge of the plateau.

Once we made it to the top of the pass it was an easy burn on an arrow straight but corrugated dirt road to Chinguetty where we spend the afternoon being assaulted by the “Donnez moi un cadeau” brigade yet again.

We walked around the ruins of the old town, most of the buildings were shells and had been turned into rubbish pits and toilets. The only old buildings still standing are the famous libraries and the old mosque. We gave the ancient libraries a miss as the guy there wanted way too much for us to see some of the ancient scrolls – and as it felt a little underwhelming we gave it a miss.

Chinguetty is special in one other way, it’s where we saw our first truly beautiful Mauritanian girls. Here the women are wrapped from head to foot in brightly coloured clothes with only their face or eyes showing. One of the girls was selling trinkets she carried on a bowl on her head and she was so captivating she held Keith in a long conversation in French that definitely exceeded the where are you from and would you like to buy this trinket, though she was cunning enough to still try and sell him a keyring for the bike halfway through! When Keith showed her his current keyring she laughed and said hers was far better and I think we both agreed, though we still didn’t part with any money. These two girls were black Mauritanians – formerly slaves of the Moors (Arabs), they have since taken on Moorish culture and language.

You know you are being given the eye here when a girl walks by with her friend and as they pass she and her friend cover there faces with their robes and look you directly in the eyes with a smile on their covered faces!

After a bit of refreshment and a stroll around the town we left Chinguetty heading back to Atar via the new Ebnou pass. It took us only an hour to get back, so fast is the new road! There was even tarmac on road, but only for the mountain pass itself. Though the tarmac hadn’t seemed to stop some car’s and trucks going over the steep edges! Quite a sobering site to see a ball of metal at the bottom of the canyon that used to be a car or the bed of a truck!

On Thursday we arrived in Atar on the Adrar plateau in Mauritania after a two day ride through the dunes of the Sahara. The ride was one of our most exciting yet. We embarked from Nouadibou on Wednesday morning after a large night with the African Surfers. Stone managed to discover a forgotten bottle of Cameroonian whiskey which had lay dormant in the back of their 4×4. It had been destined for a village chief, luckily forgotten, and somehow managed to make itself appear again in Mauritania. This is just as well as alcohol is also forbidden here and unlike Morocco it’s not legal for non-Muslims to consume the stuff. It was an excellent evening and a fine way to part company.

The ride through the Sahara was blistering but beautiful. There were no roads so we were following trails and plains, navigating the easiest paths through. The directions are pretty simple, follow the train tracks east to Choum always keeping them to your left. Never go north of the tracks because the whole border between Mauritania and Morocco is mined! Once you get to Choum turn south and head along the heavily corrugated piste to Atar. Simple really!

The train tracks in question are the rails of the world’s heaviest and longest train in the world, the Nouabhidou to Zouerate train which carries iron ore from Zouerate to the port at Nouabhidou. Cars (and bikes) can be carried on the train, either on top of the ore carriages or on their own flat beds, passengers just sit in cars or on top of the train! There are no passenger carriages!

We actually saw the train pass as we were setting out and it is a sight to behold as it comes into view. Even as it trundles past you it continues right into the horizon as far as you can see!

Once we left the tarmac and headed for the tracks we hit the first obstacle, and it’s one we should have expected, soft sand! Our bikes were heavily loaded with our normal baggage as well as a combined 80 liters of fuel for the 590 km journey. We immediately got stuck in the sand, much to the amusement of the locals who came out to watch the spectacle. After a fair bit of sweating, pushing and swearing in the 30 degree heat we managed to get both bikes onto firm ground and lower the tire pressure to something which would give us traction in the sand!

After this it was much easier going and we soon got used to the tricks of sand riding. Keep momentum and don’t stop in soft sand or on uphill slopes is the trick!

By evening we had made some good progress despite a late start and we had burnt enough fuel that we could empty the 30 liters we were carrying on the back of the bikes into our tanks, moving the weight forward and making the bikes much more agile and even fun in the sand.

We made camp a kilometer from the train tracks in a secluded and untouched part of the desert next to a large rock to shelter the tent from the desert wind, we didn’t need to worry though because as night falls the wind stops and a peace and calm descends on the desert like nothing you have ever felt before. You really do feel the peace around you and sounds travel for miles. It was a wonderful feeling to be out in the remoteness of the desert cooking noodles on our stove with just each other and our thoughts for company! Such a departure from the hustle and bustle of city life and so much of what this trip is about for the two of us. Getting away from it all to listen to our own thoughts uninterrupted.

To our surprise we found some remote villages scattered along our route through the Sahara. These folks are in the middle of nowhere with no real connection to the outside world except the train. However they still manage to harbour some of the ‘Donnez moi un Cadeau’ (Give me a gift!) brigade. One crowd of villagers surrounded Keith and the leader came forward before the others carrying his baby girl. He handed Keith his child and the kid was gorgeous but then came the ‘donnez moi un cadeau’ line. It kinda spoiled the moment. What had appeared as a warm hearted gesture was only really a ploy to get money.

The desert crossing alternated between pretty hard ground and well defined tracks to dune fields with no clear way through. It was exciting and challenging for the two of us, particularly on the second day which found us both going through the dune fields wondering if our calculations on our fuel consumption would be correct.

As we approached Atar, mountains appeared in the distance and then approached. Then more trees started to appear. All a welcome sight after the clumps of grass and dunes we had been riding through all day.

Eventually we climbed up a pass onto the Adrar plateau and started to see more signs of civilisation before we rolled hot, sweaty and very dusty into Atar. The first thing we did was head to the closest restaurant for some real food and the most refreshing fizzy drinks in a long time! Parts of the journey had been so sandy that Keith managed to empty half the desert out of his boots outside!

More pictures have been added to the Mauritania gallery.