update 6.
sahara crossing: 2000 kilometers of solitude, sufferings and surprises
18 September, 2006
Guilmine, Western Sahara to Nouakchott, Mauritania
days cycling through the desert: 14
longest day: 198 kilometers


'Would we do it again?'
'Only for a very large sum of money or several thousand camels.'
Our first desert surprise came in the form of cloudy and foggy weather which made riding comfortably cool. Cool, that is, in comparison with the 40+ temperatures we had endured in the Moroccan interior. The road out of Tan Tan followed the coast closely and we often hopped off the bikes to peer over the edge of steep cliffs that dropped quite spectacularly into the breakers of the Atlantic. The tang of the sea was


Warm croissants got us off to a good start the next morning and by noon we were in Western Sahara's main city, Laayoune. The ongoing conflict in the region means there is a strong United Nations and Moroccan military presence in the town . Several police checks before entering the city (they seemed most interested in our professions), loads of Toyota Land rovers speeding past with UN emblazoned on the side and expats hanging around the internet cafés. As Eric was checking in at the main post office to see if a package he was expecting had arrived (it hadn't) he got into a heated debate about Saharan politics with a fellow client. Later that afternoon we ran into the gentleman again just outside our hotel and, as we were chatting, a police van pulled up. After a brief exchange of words, the officers whisked the man away despite Eric's assurances that everything was in order. Maybe all those UN Observers should spend more time checking out what's going on in the streets and less time observing what's happening in the city's posh hotels.

Down the coast and through the desert we continued, stopping three days later in Dakhla for a rest before the final stretch into Mauritania. There were lots of vehicles with European license plates heading in our direction, but these were not your typical tourists. Cars are a lucrative business in these parts and a late model Mercedes can command a good price in West Africa. We met many French people who made a living this way, driving down through Europe and Morocco several times a year and then selling their auto in Mauritania or Senegal and then flying back home. Supplemental income, we were told, could be made by hawking a few bottles of wine on the side or other hard-to-come-by items such as perfume or even deodorant.



It was Africa overload for us and we took refuge in a quiet auberge run by Senegalese immigrants Momo and Fanta and didn't venture out until the following afternoon when we went looking for lunch. At the restaurant recommended in the guidebook, we were told to take a stroll through town and come back in an hour or so (it was 12:30 at the time) when the daily meal would be ready. Taking a stroll through Nouadhibou (to see the sights???) was the last thing on earth we wanted to do. Sensing our hesitation, one of the employees offered to lead us to his sister's restaurant just around the corner. It was a little hole in the wall, but spotlessly clean and cheerfully decorated and the simple meal of spicy rice and fish was delicious. When we went to pay, however, we realized that we had 'invited' our guide to dine with us and that 'sister' was used in the loosest of senses.
As we left town the next morning the smell of fresh bread overpowered that of rotting rubbish and in the soft light the town took on a calmer aura. Maybe it wasn't such a bad place after all.

We had been relying heavily on Luke and Anna's (www.africabybike.org) detailed account of their overland crossing for information on the availability of food, water and accommodation. The Mauritania section mentioned several auberges (guesthouses) and lots of restaurants along the way. We briefly envisioned hot showers, soft mattresses and hearty meals. The 'auberges' in question were nothing more than canvas tents with mats on the ground to keep out the sand and a few pillows for comfort. All that was required to open a 'restaurant' was to get a sign made and

Our first night was spent camping chez Ahmed, who used to make a living guiding foreigners on the treacherous piste between Nouadhibou and Nouakchott and whose source of income had dried up with the completion of the highway. Being an industrious young man, he decided to use his navigational skills (the best GPS lies in the head, he says) to transport 'unlicensed vehicles' to the capital via the off-road track, thus avoiding customs officials and police roadblocks. Apparently he makes quite a good living this way, earning the equivalent of 500 euros for each vehicle brought to Nouakchott.

Cheir, an astute businessman masquerading as a simple camel herder, and his family welcomed us the next night. Since the completion of the highway, life had changed a dramatically for the family. They had moved four kilometers inland from the old piste and opened up a shop and a small restaurant beside the new highway which supplemented Cheir's income from selling camel's milk. He had been able to set aside 13,000 euros and was looking for a business partner in Europe. !3,000 euros seemed like quite a large amount for a country with a GDP of just 345 dollars per inhabitant, but when one charges seven times the going price for a meal (as we found out when it came time to pay up) profits must add up quickly. But he was an affable


Continued headwinds and stormy weather meant our planned 3-day ride to Nouakchott turned into four. We treated ourselves to a stay in one of the 'Auberges' on the final evening as the damp and smelly tent hardly sounded inviting after a tough day battling the winds. Luck was with us for the last 100 kilometers. The wind had changed and we rolled effortlessly into the capital in time for spicy rice and fish for lunch. The goats were out at work cleaning the town, but they weren't doing a very good job with the plastic bottles which were accumulating in large mounds by the side of the road. Nouakchott won't make it into the top 1,000 tourist destinations in the near future, but it is a step above Nouadhibou in terms of cleanliness and calm. It' not an easy country to survive in. 50% of the population lives under the poverty line, the economy is vulnerable to fluctuations in the price of iron ore, overfishing has depleted stocks and given the very limited industry and arable land, almost all products and many foodstuffs are imported. But based on purely anecdotal evidence, the parallel economy is thriving. Mauritanians are go-getters with a keen sense of business and a desire to improve their situation. And things are looking up these days. The new government --under pressure from the IMF- has opted for economic liberalization and oil has been discovered offshore.
Mauritania, unlike Morocco which is so European in many respects, feels like Africa. It moves to a special beat and there's a feeling of hope in the air despite the overwhelming poverty. It's painfully clear to us that there are many facets to the continent and we've only just begun to scratch the surface.
The worst of the lonely desert is behind us now. Just 200 kilometers and we'll be in the fertile region surrounding the Senegal River. New challenges await us. The rainy season is in full-swing, so surely we'll have reports of downpours and dampness in our next update.
If you'd like to help educate African girls, please consider making a contribution to our charity of choice, CAMFED. African girls have fewer opportunities for schooling than any group on earth, yet without an educated generation of females the continent will never be able to put an end to poverty and dependence on foreign aid. CAMFED supports girls and is in the process of creating a virtuous circle of education and opportunity. Contributions can be made online here.
