Gambia

Don’t worry......be happy !

We had heard that the border crossing at Karang from Senegal into Gambia and the ferry across the River Gambia from Barra into Banjul could take a few hours. So with that in mind we were at the border post in good time, although the crossing was already busy with people.

On the Senegal side we found the gendarme, customs and immigration and were through within 45 minutes. We then exchanged our CFA’s into Gambian Dalasis and drove a further 100 metres where we found the Gambian border. It was nice to be able to communicate in English again and we found the officials friendly and helpful. Within 45 minutes we were also through the Gambian side and headed down the road to look for the Ferry ticket office, which is about 18km from the border, immediately after a customs check. There were a few stops on the way as per normal but we were not asked for anything. Having heard from others that the Gambians are bad for pestering travellers we were pleasantly surprised to find none of this. The guys at the Ferry ticket office were either Man Utd or Chelsea fans and we spent some time talking and joking about the prospects for the world cup and the upcoming Championship final. They printed the tickets and told me that they could not be paid for in Gambian Dalasis, which I found a bit strange. The tickets were printed in CFA’s, and I joked that the Gambians had told me on the border to change everything into Dalasis, so I didn’t have any left. They then agreed that I could pay in Dalasis, which I did and left the office. As we were leaving one of them ran out and told us that his brother, a Man Utd fan, would meet us at Barra village and help us get quickly onto the ferry.

We found consistently that it is always better to set a friendly tone as soon as possible, whether with ticket officials, police, customs or military. So far it has worked for us.

The drive to Barra was hassle free and when we got into the village we were approached by the brother and ushered through some gates and into the ferry queue. There were a few others trying to get into the act with helping us, but we managed to deter them and as soon as the next ferry off-loaded we were told to start the engine and jump the lorry queue to the front, along with a few other cars.

We pulled out of Barra and headed across the river. The journey took around 1 hour and on the way over I got chatting to an employee from the Parks and Wildlife Department. He offered to show us to the main road towards Serekunde, which was near Sukuta village and our intended destination, Sukuta Camping. I was please for his guidance as Banjul’s road system is a complete mess. The main road is superb and, once on it, we reached Serekunde in good time. When we approached we found roadworks meant we had to take a number of detours. We were also surprised that there were no signposts to Sukuta Camping. Surprised, because we had seen a few of them as far north as Morocco. After a few wrong turns we eventually found the campsite and pulled in at around 3.30pm. The campsite is run by a German couple – Joe and Claudia - who have been there for 10 years. The campsite was functional and had good internet connectivity. The camp lies between the very old Sukuta Village and the Banjoli beach area. It is also a few km from the tourist hotspot of Senegambia.

The following day, after giving proper Job a thorough clean, we decided to head to the Banjoli beach area and find a cold beer at La Pirogue bar, which was recommended by Sukuta Camp. The tourist season is at its low at this time of year so the beach was deserted, nice. La pirogue bar is owned by a Lebanese/Belgium couple and is very nicely laid out. It has lovely gardens and a great swimming pool. The staff are exceptionally friendly and we learned that this is where the expatriates in the area come to, avoiding the Senegambia tourist trap. We tried the local beer called JulBrew, and found it to be very good. Seems it has won a load of gold medals at various beer festivals. After a couple of these we headed back to camp, which takes about 40 minutes by foot.

That evening we went for a short walk along the dirt road and met a chap riding a bicycle that we had met the previous day on the beach. Anyone who has been to Gambia will know that the locals are extremely friendly. We asked him if he knew any real African bars, as we were keen to see these rather than the tourist bars. He took us into Sukuta village, and we observed village life at night. I was surprised to learn that Gambia is 80% Muslim, so there were not any bars in the village. We hopped into a taxi and after about a 10 minute drive we came to a dark compound which he assured us was an African bar. I asked why there were no lights on and suggested it was maybe closed. I was assured otherwise so in we went. The compound had a number of rooms, and indeed in one of these was a lady who had beer. She got seats out for us and we sat under the starry sky and enjoyed another JulBrew.

The following day, I caught up with family and friends via Skype and posted my Senegal journal on our blog. Back in Perranporth the second Ashanti Kids reunion was underway with 30 people attending from all over the UK. I was assured that the weather was good and the beers were flowing by the sound of it....I hope they all had a brilliant time. Let me know, when any of you read this update.

That evening we headed into Senegambia, having heard there was a great Lebanese restaurant there. The tourist area is small but packed with bars and restaurants....not really what we were looking for. After a while we gave up on the Lebanese restaurant and instead opted for a meal at La Paradiso. The food was really good and I doubt we will get a better pizza before we get to South Africa.

We planned to leave the following morning towards Tendaba, which is about half way along Gambia on the south side of the river. That day however happened to be Settal day. This is a day set aside during each month for road clean-up and no one is allowed on the roads anywhere in the country between 9am and 1pm. This delayed our departure but gave me more time to get on the internet and do some research on Mali and available ATM machines. At 1pm we left and the first 120 km of the road was new tarmac. We were stopped a few times by police but they only wanted to chat. The road deteriorated though, and our progress was rapidly slowed. It looked like it would take us the full 4 hours to get to Tendaba. The dirt road section was scenic and we travelled through many traditional villages. It was a very hot day and I joked with a military soldier at a checkpoint that he needed someone with a big banana leaf to keep him cool. He was sweating profusely in his combat gear. We laughed and on we went. We were on the main road so I was surprised to see a perfect tarmac road join it. I later found out that this was the way to the President’s village and residence. A few kilometres down the road there was another military checkpoint and again we were stopped. This time the soldier was not so friendly and asked a lot of questions and wanted to search the vehicle. No problem, although all the other vehicles seemed to be passing without a second glance. The rest of his troop were idly listening to the FA Cup final and didn’t seem interested. After showing him around and explaining what the equipment was for he asked if I had anything for dry skin. Luckily I had a bottle of moisturiser which was almost finished so I gave him that and told him to apply that to his skin. The discussion went on and on but eventually we were told we could leave. However, not before one more request for food for the rest of the troop. I told him I had given him the special cream (and he should not tell the others he had it) and a postcard of Perranporth. I emphasised that if I gave to everyone I would have nothing left for the long journey to South Africa. At last this seemed to do the trick and we were on our way, arriving at Tendaba Camp 15 minutes later. I must say though that this was not the norm for what we had experienced so far in Gambia.

Arriving at Tendaba Camp, we were met by staff who declared they knew Proper Job from previous English travellers. They told us that the couple had camped for the first night on the river front as there were no available rooms and then moved into a waterside cabin for a couple of nights. I am sure this was Will and Hannah....please confirm. The staff pass on their regards to you both anyway.

That evening I walked down to the village to find an eco guide called Burama that had been recommended to me. I was told to follow the track to the big cotton tree and turn right to where his home was. With no lights on the way I was assisted by a couple of woman filling up water containers and arranged for an eco tour through the bush the following day. Whilst in his compound another chap called Faye came by who had a boat and he could take us on a tour to the wetlands. He owns the only restaurant in Tendaba village called Bouywallow and does boat trips along the river as far as Georgetown to see the hippos and Chimpanzees. He is a really very funny guy and a great character and is dead keen on marketing his product. He serves excellent food and has a couple of cabins for hire at his waterfront restaurant. Both these people had been recommended to me by an English ex-rock-n-roller drummer that we had met at Sukuta.

The following morning we headed out on a 2 hour trek in the bush towards the airport. Well airport is a bit of an exaggeration as I don’t think any planes had been there for years. We found a Terminal 3. Somehow I don’t think 1 and 2 ever existed. From there we made our way to an area the locals called the garden. It was basically a mango plantation and had a lot of birds. Walking around we came across a baboon head on a stake. Further enquiries revealed it had been shot yesterday after attacking the guard who had failed to frighten off a troop of mango loving baboons.

Later that afternoon we went on a boat trip with the owner of Bouywallow Restaurant across the river and into the wetlands and mangroves. It was a relaxing way to spend a couple of hours.

The following morning it was time to exit Gambia and make our way to Mali. We decided to cross the border at Farrefeni as it is supposedly fairly hassle free. First we had to drive along 30km of rough road before meeting the tarmac Trans-Gambia Highway to Senegal, or so we were told.

Ummm....who said it was tarmac. It took us a lot longer than we expected as the road was red dirt all the way to, and past, the Senegal border for another 50km. I think Trans Gambia Highway is an over-statement, although it is a work in progress. Another thing to remember is that when taking any river crossing in Gambia the ferry ticket offices are never at the ferry itself. We were not warned of this, and had to back track a few kilometres to get them. Once at the border, the formalities on both sides were very quick. There was only one half hearted request from a Senegalese immigration official for 1000CFA. I told him it was not necessary and all payments had been made at the Customs Office. He shrugged and waved me through.

We entered Senegal and quickly remembered our French phrases for the gendarme check points. Once you get within 30km of Kaolack you reach the new road and from there it is a smooth 300km drive to Tambacounda, where we arrived at 6pm. The whole way the winds were very strong and very warm and there was much dust in the air. I suspected these winds were the fore-runners of the rainy season. We planned to stay overnight in Tambacounda before our final 200km push to the Mali border. We stocked up with more CFA’s and found a nice place to stay called Niji Hotel. The manager speaks excellent English and there is a swimming pool and WIFI.

Senegal

Ou La La !

We left Auberge Sahara at 9.30 am and headed southwards towards Senegal. The main road to Senegal goes through Nouakchot but is not easy to find as the route is different than that shown on Tracks4Africa. Other travellers had advised us not to go through the notorious Rosso border crossing but to take the road to Diamma, some 50km before Rosso, and cross there. The signpost to Diamma is not that obvious but some locals soon put us on the right track. The unpaved road is quite rough although there are roadworks underway so this route will improve soon. Once you reach the Senegal River the road improves as you head westwards towards Diamma. The drive is quite nice and we saw a large number of warthogs....so I guess there are not many predators in this area.

Approximately 15 km before the border a small national park fee is payable and there is also a bridge toll as you cross into Senegal. Going through the Diamma border was hassle free and took us under two hours to complete both sets of formalities - including a polite request from the Senegal customs to wait 45 minutes whilst they finished lunch. Once through we drove towards St Louis and were stopped by the police a few times for checks on car insurance, fire extinguishers, warning triangles, and for some general chit chat. We reached St Louis after about a one hour drive and stopped briefly to withdraw some cash from an ATM and then headed southwards towards Zebrabar. Mindful of the corrupt policeman just south of St Louis that we had been warned about by other travellers, we proceeded carefully. We were indeed stopped by him at the turn-off from the main road towards the Zebrabar, but to our surprise he didn’t ask for anything. We figured he must already have been fully loaded with cash from other cars earlier in the day. We later found out that he stops all drivers, not just foreigners, and the normal payment is 1000 CFA.

Zebrabar is run by a Swiss couple, Martin and Ursula, and they are a good source of information. The camp is set amongst trees and sand and is a short walk from a small village where vegetables and fresh bread are available. It is also very close to local fishermen who sell fantastic fresh fish and 'gambas' (which is like a giant prawn 25cm long). Our plan was to stay for 3 or 4 days then head south.

I struck up a good relationship with the accordion playing Martin and he offered to help sort out the driver window which had seized in a shut position. First we opened the door panel, removed the motor and stripped it down. The diagnosis was that the rotor brushes were worn out and needed replacing. Great, now to find the correct brushes. We went into town on Sunday to a spares shop and were given a set of brushes (not sure which vehicle they were for) which had been lying in the shop for years. The fact that they were not the right ones didn’t faze Martin who declared we would adapt them to make them fit Proper Job. He also showed me where a good air con specialist was.....yes the air conditioning failed yet again!

Back at camp we got stuck into the task of adapting the brushes and an hour later, after some hack sawing and sandpapering, we had a set of brushes that fit. However, Martin’s solder had packed up so we had to wait until the following morning to join some wires together. Once soldered, we put the motor together and refitted it. To our relief it worked, so I guess that was a good lesson in ‘bush mechanics’.

The following day we headed into St Louis to look around the old French colonial area and then had lunch at a local patisserie. The old town is nice but the hassle from the locals gets on your nerves after a while. We also found a Toyota garage run by an English speaking Senegalese. Great, so I booked up a service for the following day as we had now done almost 6000 km since leaving Cornwall. That evening we went to a live Djemba music concert with Rene, a German friend we had met in Nouakchot who was on his way to South Africa for the World Cup. Djemba is a traditional drumming and is very catching. Senegal has good music and I bought a couple of CD’s from a local music shop to play on our long journey ahead.

The following day we headed back into town for the service, giving Monika, a German lady who had been staying at Zebrabar for 5 weeks, a lift. I had also discovered that the car import certificate you are issued when crossing the border into Senegal (they dont accept Carnet du Passage here in Senegal) is only valid for 15 days, after which you must extend it by going to a Customs Office (found in the main towns only). There is one in St Louis so we had it extended. I was taken aback when the official personally made up the 300 CFA shortfall rather than chase down change for my larger notes. Must say, so far, I have been impressed with the Senegalese. On the way back to Zebrabar, we decided to visit the air con specialist to see if, for once and all, we could find a solution. The specialist, Babacar, is probably close to 65 and is an ex-professor at the local university. The time was 3pm when we met him and we were about to get a lesson on African time. Fortunately, there was an English speaking Senegalese man also at the garage and I was able to explain what we had already had done in Morocco and Mauritania. Babacar then proceeded by methodically looking through the system and instructing two young mechanics to carry out some tests. I decided to watch like a hawk as I didn’t want them causing any further problems. Every now and again Babacar would return and give them further instructions, just like a teacher to students. After some time, he decided there was a block in a valve and this had to be removed for testing. This meant removing the air compressor and although I was concerned with this, I was re-assured that they knew what they were doing. Anyway, to cut a long story short, they apparently did find a fault in the valve and cleaned it out then replaced the air compressor. By the time they had finished it was 9 pm.....six long and slow hours later. Poor Monika, she must have regretted coming into town with us. I found the whole ‘African process’ very frustrating and was way too wound up to leave Zebrabar the following morning to continue our journey south. Hence we decided to stay an extra day to chill out. Who knows if the air con has been finally fixed, but we were keen to give it one more shot before we go to Mali, where the temperature is currently hovering around 50 degrees.

Whilst at Zebrabar we met some interesting people, including a Norwegian who had travelled around Africa on his motor bike and a German couple, Kim and Tanya, who have been travelling around Africa for 3 years in a Toyota Landcruiser. I spent quite a few hours with Kim going over maps and routes and found him very helpful. I am sure we will benefit much from his advice and information. We also found out that he had met Will and Hannah, the previous owners of Proper Job, in the Congo.

Whilst at Zebrabar we were told about a small camp on the Petit Cote called Thiossane which is jointly owned and run by a French man and a Senegalese lady. The camp is close to the village of Mbodiene, 40km south of Mbour. We decided to give it a go, so the following day, after saying farewell to the folks at Zebrabar, we headed southwards for about 4 hours to the Petit Cote. There is a road in the town of Thies (just after the Shell garage) that cuts out having to go anywhere near Dakar, which suited us fine. Just before Mbour we were struck with the abundance of Baobab trees and I have never witnessed so many in all my African travels...there is literally a forest of them. We passed through and made our way to Mbodiene and followed the ‘tyre post signs’ to Thiossane. There is no camping here and consists of 6 or 7 cabins set on the dunes overlooking a lagoon and peninsula. The area is rich with bird life. We were also told that the food at the camp is excellent, and we were not to be disappointed. The camp co-owner Alicia and her staff prepared some very tasty Senegalese dishes......and the portions were large.

We took an instant liking to Thiossane, and the area, and recommend others come and visit. The peninsula and beaches are quiet and perfect for long walks followed by a cold beer in the evening watching the pelicans fly back from the ocean in large numbers. There is a lot to do along this coastline, including a few game parks and a baobab climbing park, which apparently is the only one of its kind in Africa.

During our 5 day stay at Thiossane we took day trips to Joal Fadiout (south of Mbodiene) and Bandia National Park (north of Mbour). Joal Fadiout is an interesting village which has merged over time to join the predominantly Christian Fadiout to the predominantly Muslim Joal. Fadiout is an island accessible by footbridge or boat and is literally built on shells. We took a boat to the cemetery and an old ‘granary’ where the villagers used to store food just in case storms wiped out their annual harvest. Here they built small huts on stilts surrounded by water so that vermin could not raid their stored food. Today, the local community has a project to restore the granary to its former state. The graveyard is also interesting as it has an area set aside for Christians and an area for Muslims. There is a special grave of an African American nun who traced her ancestry back to Senegal’s ‘island of shells’. She spent 30 years here in the local community and was buried in the cemetery of Fadiout. This village is also famous for its wrestling, and has boasted a long line of national champions. It is well worth visiting the shell island and wandering the narrow streets observing the local culture.

Bandia National park has a fair variety of animals, most of which have been imported from South Africa. The two prized animals are a pair of white rhinos and you can literally walk up to them and pat them. Having been to many other national parks in Southern Africa I would not particularly recommend this one, although the restaurant was in a great setting overlooking a water hole full of crocodiles.

Eventually we had to move on and we said our farewell to the French co-owner Alain, Alicia and her staff. We really enjoyed our stay and would like to return one day. Next destination was Simal, a small village in the Saloum delta along a sand track from the village of Fimela. To get to Fimela you take a dirt road from Joal Fadiout to Samba Dia. The route is sign posted and it takes about an hour to reach Fimela. Once you reach Fimela you turn left at the junction and take a small sandy track on the right hand side past a large mosque. Look out for a sign post saying Amoul Solo and follow that to a bridge. Go over the bridge and drive through Simal village to Camp Simal. You can also stay at Amoul Solo, which is run by a French lady who apparently is a superb chef. We opted however for Camp Simal as it offers fishing and horse riding included in the accommodation. The camp consists of a number of round traditional huts which are very comfortable. The staff are very pleasant and helpful and there is a great deal of bird and fish life in the area. We went fishing a couple of times with the local fisherman and caught a number of fish which were later on the menu!! It doesn’t get much fresher than that. During our three day stay there was a Muslim wedding in the village which we decided to visit. We were made very welcome and spent a couple of hours observing the traditions and manic dancing.

We then made our way southwards via Koalak to Toubacouta, stopping in Koalak to load up with cash from the available ATM’s. We have found on our travels that it is a good tactic as you generally only find ATM’s in the larger towns and cities. The road from Koalak to Toubacouta is very poor and it took us a couple of hours to cover the 60 or so kilometres. The scenery alters the further south you go and becomes progressively thicker bush and forest. Our intended destination was Sipo Island within the Saloum Delta Marine Reserve. Upon reaching Toubacouta we asked a local to guide us through the town to Keur Bamboung Eco Camp. Upon arrival we met Charles, the French manager, who arranged the 30 minute boat journey to the island. There is a small secure area for vehicles so we grabbed the gear we needed for the next three days and departed to Sipo Island and the Keur Bamboung Eco Camp. When w arrived on the island we were met by a horse and cart. Our luggage and camp stores were loaded onto the cart whilst you head off on foot for two kilometres along a sandy pathway to the camp. We were told it is advisable to book rooms here as accommodation is limited. However we were lucky that the high season had not yet arrived. The reserve was created in 2003 by a local Lebanese environmentalist who managed to get the mangrove delta protected from all fishing and hunting. According to the camp manager the project has been a great success with many fish species returning and the average size of the fish increasing. The mangroves provide a safe breeding ground for the fish and the success here has greatly benefited adjacent villages that rely on fishing. The camp offers hikes along the mangroves and surrounding forests and canoe trips into the mangroves. The area is also safe for swimming, although I did ask myself the question as to why the crocs in Aussie have adapted to estuarine waters and the crocs in Africa have not.....hmmmm food for thought.

After staying for three days we moved southwards again towards the Gambian border. We stopped at Bandiala Camp on the way for a day so we could prepare to hit the border during the morning. The camp is set in a fairly dense forest and is managed by Eric, a French man who has been running the camp for 20 years. The following morning we headed towards the border which is only about 20 kilometres away. We have heard various stories about the border, some saying how difficult a crossing it is and others saying how easy it is. We will have to see what awaits us !

We really enjoyed our time in Senegal having found great places to stay, great food and friendly people........ou la la !

Mauritania

When your sinking in sand....stop driving

Throughout Morocco we have heard a few different opinions on Mauritania, ranging from ‘get through as fast as you can’ to ‘stay as long as you can’ from two French girl campers.

We stayed at a hotel near the Moroccan border to ensure an early arrival at the crossing the following day. When we pulled into the Moroccan customs, the Africa maps on Proper Job attracted some attention from the border police. Why; because they still showed the Western Sahara as an independent country. Clearly it is a sensitive issue in these parts, and eventually we settled the matter by allowing them to write Morocco over Western Sahara.

Formalities on the Morocco side took almost three hours and once completed (plus one request for money) we proceeded in convoy for about 5km over a rough road through no man’s land to the Mauritania border. Here the formalities took only ninety minutes and we found the personnel helpful and professional. Once through we got car insurance and headed to Nouadibou to find a camp site and to obtain permits for the National Park Banc D’Anguin. On the border we met a local who offered to show us to a recommended campsite and to help us with the permits. Being a Friday we had to move quickly as all things close at 2.30pm for the day. Once we arrived in Nouadibou we obtained the permits after a trip to two different tourism offices and then headed to Camp Abba, which is nicely located down town. We thought we would also pick up the Carte Bruin and SETA which would cover us all the way to Angola.

The following day we headed southwards towards the national park, having been told to drive approx 160km to Chemi at which point, turn right into the national park. We followed the main road but found the right turn as indicated on the GPS not exactly accurate. After asking some military officials where the turning was we headed off in the general direction of Camp Arkeiss on Cape Tagarit. Believe me, these desert tracks are very difficult, if not impossible, to follow and we were soon ‘off-piste’. We negotiate our way for 40km through a desert like landscape, stopping after only 8 km into the journey when Proper Job overheated after a particularly difficult stretch. I had a nagging feeling that this was not going to be an easy drive. We decided to lower the tyre pressure considerably to help us navigate the thick sand. We persevered and eventually found Camp Arkeiss where five other groups were encamped. All were Mauritanian except for one French group. I was intrigued by the presence of a goat by one of the Mauritanian tents and assumed it was brought along for milk. The camp site is in a very nice setting on this remote coast which has only two or three fishing villages. Bank D’Anguin is a UNESCO site because of its prolific bird life. Millions of birds stop here on their migration from Senegal on their way to Spain. Unfortunately, they had gone before we arrived. I met some locals fishing from the rocks and found out that this coastline is extremely good for fishing....darn; I wish I had bought my rod. Casting out 20 metres they were catching nice tuna and other fish. This coast is also windy, so we set up camp in the most sheltered spot we could find. It did not help that much....but there was worse to come. The area is very picturesque and untouched because of its remoteness which, means it is only accessible by 4x4. The following morning we planned to head southwards along a route marked on both the official park map and Tracks4Africa. I casually looked for the goat and saw that it was now strung up and was being skinned....so much for the milk. We set off and yet again after a while the track disappeared under a sea of sand and the going became quite tough. We eventually came across a sign post indicating a left turn towards Mamghar, our intended destination at the southern end of the park. We took this route for about 3km before we plunged into a deep sand-drift and became well and truly stuck. It’s now that I started to realise how isolated we really were out here. You don’t see any other vehicles or people, just a few old tracks now and again. After a few attempts in low range with front and rear diffs locked it was time to open up the roof box and use the shovels and sand mats. Luckily, there was a hard patch of sand a few metres in front of us and I figured if we could get to that then we could use it as a launching pad to gather momentum back along the 3km to the sign post. Now for the digging – very glad I joined the Perranporth Life Saving Club for swimming training to get fit ! The sand-mats again did the trick and we got back to the sign post and turned southwards to follow the longer coastal route. Eventually we came across a village and asked for directions to Mamghar and a local hopped on his quad and took us to another signpost and pointed us in land again. Ahead of us lay another set of low lying dunes which stood between us and the eastern side of the peninsula we were on, and needed to cross to resume our journey southwards. We made quite good progress over this stretch when we just missed a left turn and once again ploughed into a deep sand drift. Dam......out with the shovels and sand mats again. Sometime later and after sweating buckets, we were ready to try getting unstuck .We were still probably only about half way to our destination and I had visions of many digs ahead. Ummmm, and I gave up my comfortable life in Canada and Cornwall !. There must be a reason for it, or is it just the ‘Mad Dogs and Englishmen Syndrome’. This time though, there was no back-tracking so we had to do enough digging to be able to pick up enough momentum to get through this section. Again Proper Job was starting to overheat, but we got through and pulled over on the coast for a breather.

Another 40km of driving along the coast and we arrived at Camp Mamghar, having driven a total of 150km in 6 hours. There was little shelter from the wind at this camp and after some discussions with the camp manager on the best route to get out of the park and back to the main road to Nouakchott, we set up camp. The manager then asked for payment for providing this information, which I refused and told him it was his job to help guests. I must say though we did not experience much of this in Mauritania and generally found the people very helpful. That night was pretty much a sleepless one with the wind rattling the tent to the point that I wondered if it would be damaged. With my very limited understanding of French, I had gathered from the camp manager that we should leave at 5am in the morning because the final 50km route was along the beach and you could only access it at low tide. I pondered our two options; either we turn back along the route we had just come knowing that we could eventually get out or give the beach route a go early morning risking getting seriously stuck. I was up at 5am and it was still pitch black. It was hard enough to follow tracks in day light and there was no way I was going to try it in the dark. With a glimmer of sun rise at 6am we decided to push off for the beach route, following a track around the small fishing village towards the general direction we had to go. Soon we came across an ominous looking sandy stretch which led to an impassable sand dune. We turned around and headed back towards the village looking for another track nearer the beach. The sun was now rising and we found a track that led onto the beach. Here the sand seemed quite firm, and after checking how far our wheels were sinking in we headed southwards down the beach into the rising sun. There were millions of crabs on the beach, which was about 15 metres wide. There were also many birds and turtles along the way and photo opportunities were numerous. Unfortunately, as we had lost time we had to push on so did not have time to stop. We drove at speed down the beach along the water line, passing only one fishing village along the way. The sand was firm and driving at 50kmph we made good progress towards the village where a road headed inland towards tarmac. Surprisingly we had no issues along the beach and made it to the tarmac to great relief. It is along this stretch that travellers have lost vehicles to the sea by getting the tides wrong.

Having reached the tarmac road we turned south towards Nouakchott and Auberge Sahara, which had been recommended by a couple of French travellers we had met in Morocco, and is run by an extremely helpful lady called Kania. We were both quite tired from the last two days on the remote Mauritanian coast and were thankful for a nice hot shower and an omelette breakfast. We then cleaned Proper Job as best we could, re-arranged the roof box and swept out the tent and aired the sleeping bags. Auberge Sahara also has a washing machine so we decided to give our clothes a thorough wash in preparation for our excursion into Senegal in a day or so. Auberge Sahara is a popular stop-over for overlanders, and we met a Danish couple who had been teaching in Liberia and were driving back to Europe. They had been through Mali and said how hot it is there and how they had had problems with their car air conditioning. This got me thinking again about our own problems so I went to a local Toyota garage that Paul at Footloose 4x4 had emailed details of to me. Arriving at the garage, I stressed that we needed R12 gas, and they pointed me to a mechanic shop. To my surprise they had R12, and after some help with translation from English speaking Malian, we all went back to Auberge Sahara with the gas to sort the problem out. The mechanic checked the system, much more thoroughly than any of the mechanics I had gone to in Morocco and said the problem was low gas pressure and the filter. Back down town for the new filter and within an hour he had it fitted and filled with R12 gas. He assured me that it was now fixed and I learned that he is the mechanic for the Mauritania President’s vehicles.....so who am I to doubt him ! Anyway, we will see, but I have now done everything I can to prepare for the heat of Mali and Burkino Faso.

Next thing was to go to the Mali Embassy to apply for our visas. The staff was extremely helpful and told us to return at 3pm to pick them up. Visas in hand we were ready to head to Senegal. We left early morning driving 150km along the main road then turned westwards for 80km along a dirt road to the Diamma border crossing. Our plan was to cross and drive to the Zebrabar beach camp just south of St Louis.

Morocco - Part 2

Deserts and wild flowers

The route from the Gorges de Todros to Nekob took us through the Sahora mountain range. The geology here was very different from the sedimentary structures seen further north. These mountains are formed of igneous intrusive and massive banded iron stone. The journey took us five hours to complete and was over the roughest roads I have driven on...period. The roads were basically rocks, and they were sharp and big.....not good for tyres or anything else. This took my off road driving experience to a different level and being conscious of the great distances we still have to travel I drove with caution, rarely able to drive at even 5 miles per hour. As with most out of the way places though, we got to see sights that only can be accessed by 4x4 vehicles. The wind was quite fierce and there were frequently sand whirl winds moving across the landscape. As you can imagine, Proper Job was a real mess when we arrived at the campsite in Nekob. The campsite even had a swimming pool, with water in it, but was way too cold for a plunge. Keeping equipment and Proper Job clean is a constant challenge with adventure travel but something that you need to keep on top of. The winds thankfully died down at around 7 pm so we were able to cook dinner and have a solid nights rest.

The following day we travelled further south towards Zagora, which is famous for its dates and figs. Unfortunately, this is not the time of year for them...darn, as I was looking forward to feasting on them ! We stayed at a good camp site called Auberge Palm Oasis. Conscious of the distances to be travelled to the Mauritania border and the time it takes we decided to spend one night in Zagora and keep moving south. The interesting part of Zagora is the old town, as the new part of the city is not much to look at. The following morning we headed south again to the end of the road.....a place called Mhamid. This is the last town before the real desert and the road literally ends there. Beyond is the realm of 4x4 off roaders and desert nomads. It was here we noticed the air conditioning in the car had stopped working, and in Mhamid discovered the main Toyota garage was back in Zagora. There are not any good campsites in Mhamid itself, but there is a good one in Oulad Driss, a small town a couple of kilometres before. Luckily there was a small garage opposite, and the mechanic specialised in Toyota’s. We were told the problem was gas pressure and that the ‘gas man’ would arrive at 10pm to fix it. I had my doubts but he turned up and fixed it.....or so we thought !!

Enquiries with the camp management regarding the potential crossing of the desert and Lake Iriki were positive and we were assured it was no problem and the track of approximately 100km to our next destination, Foum Zguid, was good. So the following day we packed up by 10am and headed into the desert. Within a few kilometres we realised that what the Moroccans call good roads is relative. Here you basically navigateby GPS to ensure you are going in the right general direction. The track went through stretches of thick sand and a rock strewn landscape. The landscape here is bleak with only a scattering of small desert trees and the very occasional oasis. We ploughed through the sand, engaging the centre diffs for the first time, and drove as carefully as we could over the rocks to minimise impact on Proper Job. Over the next few hours there was only one occasion, coming across a large compacted mud flat, that we were able to reach 40 mph. The rest of the drive was at less than 15 mph. Because of the poor conditions the going was painfully slow and we realised we would be driving like this for quite a few hours. This would be a real test of Proper Job’s reputation of reliability. Six hours, a few 4x4 vehicles and two military check points later (one who told us we had strayed in Algeria....luckily only a joke), we hit tarmac and with relief drove into Foum Zguid. First task at camp was to give Proper Job a thorough check over. Luckily, it seemed that there was little damage. I forgot to mention the air conditioner; it seemed that it had not been fixed and was starting to play up again. That evening we watched Arsenal get slaughtered by Barcelona in a local cafe full of avid Barcelona fans. It seems that literally everyone in Morocco supports Barcelona....no wonder it is one of the richest clubs in the world if it can capture a whole countries support.

The following day we headed towards Tata, which would take us mid way to the coast. On the way, we picked up a Moroccan who was managing a group of Belgian quad bikers. He needed a lift to Tata so we obliged. When we arrived we asked him if he could take us to a refrigeration engineer. We spent the next 3 hours with an engineer (who put more gas into the air con system), a mechanic and an electrician (who installed an override switch to the air conditioning heat exchange). They were confident the problem was now fixed.....the problem being not enough power to the system. We drove off, and I decided to test the system.....and surprise surprise it wasn’t working properly. After returning to the mechanic for another hour, I decided to cut my losses as enough was enough for one day. That evening we watched Man Utd throw away the game to Bayern Munich, albeit there was a very dodgy sending off which left Man Utd one man short for the second half. Oh well, no English clubs in the semi finals of the Championship this year.

Having been told over the past couple of days that there was a large Toyota garage in Agadir, I decided we should make a detour and give one last shot at fixing the air con before we get to West Africa where the humidity and heat will be oppressive. Up early, we headed west 400 km to Agadir, a thriving tourist destination. On arrival, we stumbled by accident on a Toyota garage, who after an hour advised us that the other Toyota garage in town would be able to help as they didn’t have spare parts. So on to Toyota garage number 2. Here I spent an hour trying to explain to a mechanic (who had no English) the problem. He seemed to be suggesting going to another Toyota garage. I then asked if one of the other mechanicscould speak English, and lo and behold one could. Very frustrating. Anyway, after a brief conversation with the English speaking mechanic, we were told that there could only be three things wrong, the most likely being there was not enough gas in the system. However, Proper Job needs R12 gas and another Toyota garage dealt with that. So it was on to Toyota garage number 3. We eventually found this one and after an hour waiting for the air con technician to arrive, we were informed that the problem indeed was there was not enough gas in the system, but they did not have the R12 gas. In fact there was none in Morocco. After some further investigation, it appears that this type of gas has been banned worldwide (I think) as it is damaging to the earth’s atmosphere.

Anyway, so that was that and we will have to live with an underperforming air con. Stayed overnight in a hotel in Agadir and the following morning sent an email to Paul at Footloose 4x4 to see if he could come up with a plan, then drove southwards to Sidi Ifni, a small village on the coast. The weather is noticeably cooler here so back out with the warmer clothes. Nice campsite on the beach, with WIFI so was able to connect up with family and friends whilst sitting under Proper Job’s awning....cool. Had a long chat with Will (the previous owner ) to get the low down on travel through Western Sahara and dealings at the Senegal border....thanks again for your assistance Will.

The following day we stocked up with some food stuff and headed along the coastal road towards Tan Tan, which we estimated was about a 3 hour journey. The drive is quite scenic although the sea mist was quite thick so we did not get the full advantage of taking the ‘scenic route’. We drove through Bou Jerif and that is where the tarmac ended. I then recalled the part in Will’s blog about a terrible route past Bou Jerif towards Tan Tan, so not wanting to put Proper Job through another mauling, we turned around and headed back to Sidi Ifni and the tarmac road inland. Two hours wasted we arrived at Tan Tan at around 5.30pm. We were warmly greeted on the way into town by a friendly policeman who pointed us towards the camp site 25km away at Tan Tan Plage. We set off towards the camp site and then discovered that the round-abouts in Morocco are sometimes not all they appear to be. Some you have to stop at certain points whilst traversing around the round-about. We didn’t, and a policeman noticed. Traffic fine number two, and this time there was no negotiating the price down, so the full 400Dh. That episode over, we found the camp site, which was undergoing major works, and probably the worst from an appearance point of view that we had stayed at so far.

The following day we headed further south along the coast towards Tarfaya, and the landscape became more and more desert like. The towns and villages became smaller and more run down, and fishing seemed to be the main industry and pastime. As we approached Tarfaya we noticed a small fishermans house on the headland and three touring vans besides it.....looked like a good camping spot. We decided to check Tarfaya out first. After a quick whiz around, it became apparent there was nothing much in the town and it seemed the sands were slowly but surely reclaiming it. We headed back to the fisherman’s hut and parked overlooking the beach. With my keen interest in fishing, and after showing some of my pictures of fish caught in Canada and Cuba, we were warmly welcomed and promised fish tagine for dinner. Great, no need to cook tuna and rice tonight....and it is a bit windy. The fisherman lived up to their promise and invited us into their hut for dinner, and it was delicious. A local policeman turned up and produced a bottle of French red wine, which was not that good but ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ as the saying goes. We swapped stories and tales as best we could with the language barriers, but I think they got the gist of the huge fish I have caught ! Eventually we called it an evening and headed for the tent, drifting to sleep with the sound of the waves crashing on the beach.

The following day, I got up at 7am to find the fisherman had been out to check their nets and had a bunch of fish to sell at the market. I made them coffee and they headed off to the market. They did not ask for any payment for the camping or the dinner so I stuck 50Dh into a box of sugar I had given them earlier. Once again we are impressed by the friendliness of the Berber people.

We then drove southwards through the Western Sahara to the Mauritania border. We plan to stay 6 days in Mauritania and my next post will be after that !!

Morocco - Part 1

A land of olive groves and sand

Arriving in Santander, we then had a pleasant drive through Spain, staying overnight in Salamanca, and onto Tarife the following day. We found a campsite conveniently close to Tarife and enquired about ferry schedules for the following day. We learned that the ferry that day to Africa had been cancelled due to the very high winds. Fortunately, overnight the winds died down slightly and we caught the 11am ferry to Tangier, Morocco. The crossing itself took only 35 minutes, and during this short period we met a couple from the UK called John and Bridgette. Having both been off-roading in North Africa many times they gave us the low down on the customs ‘formalities and oddities’ to expect upon arrival at Tangier. Their advice was well heeded. The customs was a shambles, although I am sure we will get much worse elsewhere on our trip. We were clear of customs in 2 hours and after purchasing car insurance we headed eastwards towards Chefchoen. We arrived at the campsite, which is up in the hills overlooking the town. After setting up camp and having dinner we headed down into town. The old part of town is great with small winding passageways hosting numerous small shops. Later that evening we learned that the heightened police activity we had noticed along the way was due to the arrival of the King of Morocco the following day. Not sure who his potential enemies are but the police turned out in large numbers.

After a pleasant night we decided to move on the next day, figuring it would get pretty hectic around this area when the King arrived. In hindsight we should have stayed a couple more days as Chefchoen is a nice place. We then drove southwards towards Meknes and planned to find a campsite along the way. The region is scenic and abounds with olive groves and wild flowers. Life around here appears to be relaxed and laid back. Pretty much what we are looking for. A couple of hours into the drive we came across a village called Ouazzane and decided to stop for lunch. This turned out to be quite fortuitous as the market was in full swing and we stocked up with some food items. Soon we were approached by a hotel worker who offered to show us around the old medina. We told him we didn’t have much time so it had to be no more than an hour. Again this turned out to be a good move as the old part of the town was very interesting and was well worth the detour.

We then carried on south towards Meknes and found a very conveniently located camp site centrally located between Meknes and Moulay Idriss, and the Roman ruins at Volubilis. The owner of the campsite is called Abdul and he is a friendly helpful person. The campsite is set in an old olive plantation and is full of bird life. The following day we headed to Meknes as it was market day. We also wanted to check out the campsite in Meknes, which we found was closed. We spent the day looking around the old city and palace before heading back to Abdul’s campsite.

The next day we went to the picturesque hill town of Moulay Idriss where Islam was introduced to Morocco. We wondered around for a while then tucked into another tasty Moroccan lunch. The food in Morocco is both delicious and healthy. After lunch we decided to walk to the Roman ruins at Volublis. The walk took 35 minutes and luckily the weather was cool. These ruins are well worth a visit and are screaming out for World Heritage status and the appropriate funding for renovation and reconstruction. There is so much to see there that one could spend hours roaming around. I was surprised that the numerous mosaics - open to all elements – are still in such good condition. Be warned that the car park attendant who will arrange a taxi for you is running quite a scam. If you have the energy then walk back to Moulay Idris and get a taxi. We didn’t, so ended up with a taxi that after negotiations directly with the taxi driver was reduced by over 50%. Later though, we found out from Abdul that the fare we negotiated was still way too much. We enjoyed our three nights at Abdul’s campsite, but it was time to move on so the next day we made our way towards Rabat to get our visas for Mauritania.

We heard there was a campsite near Rabat at a place called Sale le Pelage. However, upon arrival we could not see any sign of a campsite – open or closed! Thus we headed down the coast a few kilometres to Telage le plage and found a small hotel called Hotel Panoramic. Besides a secure car park, the hotel also had Wi-Fi so we were able to connect with family back home. The following day we headed to the Mauritanian embassy where we had to get help filling out the forms as they are in French. I wish I had taken languages more seriously when I was at school. Forms filled, we were told to come back at 3pm the same day to collect the visas. Great. We spent the next few hours looking around the old walled town and the Kasbah overlooking the harbour.

We picked up our visas at 3.30pm and headed back to the hotel. These big coastal cities though are not really my cup of tea so we were keen to head back east to the rural hinterland. The last night at the Hotel Panoramic was quite funny though, as the owner, who was completely drunk owner, decided to take over from the hired singer. I suppose it was his version of Moroccan karaoke....it wasn’t good.

The following morning it was time to head back east with Fes being our destination. Leaving Rabat, I got the first fine for a traffic offence – going through a not-too-obvious red light. After some good humoured banter with the policeman I managed to get the fine reduced from 400Dr to 200Dr. The bottom line here is that if you infringe the police will jump quickly and you will pay. It definitely pays to be very diligent when driving.

We arrived in Fes and eventually found our way to Campsite International. It is not that easy to find, but if you get lost then ask for the Sports Complex which is adjacent to the camp site. We arranged for a guide to take us around the old medina the following morning.

The Medina which was built in the 14^th century turned out to be every bit as good as we had heard from others. When you look down from above it looks completely dead and lifeless, but when you enter it is buzzing with activity. Throughout is a web of small alley ways connecting numerous mini souks with their specific artisanal trades. Wondering the alley ways one can observe much about the Moroccan way of life. There is so much to see that one day doesn’t really do it justice. Hence we decided to stay an extra couple of days.

We then headed southwards towards the Atlas Mountains, choosing to take a secondary road which went through some picturesque country side. Estimating travel times when taking such roads is difficult as they are typically not in good condition. However, if you have the time, they are worth taking as you get to see more. Our destination was a campsite outside Midelt called Hotel Timnay. It is sign posted well in advance of arrival so it is hard to miss. Midelt is the centre for minerals and fossils in Morocco. It is also the gateway to the famous Mbladen mine from where the world’s best Vanadinite specimens came from. We also wanted to visit Aouli which is an old ‘art-deco’ French lead mining town.

The track to Aouli is poor in parts as the river has eroded sections away. It will likely disappear altogether in a few years. These were the roughest roads we had yet driven on, however we expect much worse on our travels around Africa. The drive took a couple of hours through a gorgeous landscape of gorges with multi coloured faces and structures. A great place for a geologist to visit. Aouli itself is striking as it is now a ghost town. It stretches along a river and one wonders how difficult it must have been to build this in such a remote and challenging place. The only people we saw were selling minerals and fossils, which they undoubtedly scavenged from the old mine dumps and workings.

The following day we drove south west towards Benni Mellal and then onwards and upwards to Ouuzoud, where one of Africa’s highest waterfalls is located. The climb up into the mountains to Ouuzoud takes at least an hour and is simply stunning. You see swathes of wild flowers, picturesque villages and shades of green that gleam. This is probably the nicest scenery we have seen so far in Morocco.

We camped at the Hotel France which is conveniently located for the village and the falls. The following day we hiked along the river through shady olive groves to the source of the falls. We then went to the falls which was crowded with Moroccan teenagers who had just broken up for holidays. They had a party going full swing – Moroccan style. Ouuzoud is well worth a visit.

The next day we left camp and drove to Cathedral Roche which was further up into the Atlas Mountains. The drive took about 4 hours, much of it upwards. . The Roche or Rocks were so-so but the drive to them was scenic. There are no camp sites up here and there are also few places to pull off the road and wild camp. We marked a couple of potential spots on our way up and so pulled off on one of them and set up camp. Soon a young Berber boy appeared and we offered him some of our dinner. He accepted, but didn’t finish his food and then departed. Shortly after we were visited by his family who were extremely friendly and offered us tagine and couscous. They probably heard from their son that our food was not that good and felt sorry for us !. We were amazed by the hospitality of the Berber people in the mountains and wonder whether we will meet another tribe as friendly on our trip around Africa.

The following day we set off to Imochil. On the way, we stocked up at the super market in Benni Mellal and gave Proper Job a deserved jet-wash clean at a gas station. A local told us the drive would take two or three hours. Not sure how they drive, but it took us almost five hours on some rough winding roads through mountains and dry dusty valleys. Approaching Imochil through a dry landscape you are struck by the sight of a deep blue lake on the outskirts of Imochil.There is also a small campsite on its shores, so we decided to stay at for a couple of nights and do some hiking. The climate here is cold and that night our Four Seasons sleeping bags were tested to the max.

The following day we hiked 7 km to another lake which forms part of a local legend where a young couple, who were not allowed to marry, shed enough tears to create the two lakes. They both died of heart break and since that time the elders in the villages in the area decided to allow their children to choose their own partners. This happens during a big festival each August and we were told that this is the only place in Morocco where the parents don’t choose partners for their children.

The following day it was southwards again towards the Gorges de Todros. Again we took a secondary route which took us a long time and it is fortunate that Proper Job has strong suspension. The drive through the mountains was again spectacular. After five hours we were through the step sided gorge and pulled into a picturesque campsite called Auberge Atlas which is set amongst date palms. The following day we decided to hike up into the Gorge to take some pictures. The walk took about 2 hours each way and follows the river through fig and date groves irrigated by a network of channels. There is clearly a lot of interest in these Gorges as there was a lot of people visiting, both Moroccan and foreign.

Tomorrow we head south again....leaving the mountains and heading into the deserts !!