Sand storms, No Mans Land and Landmines. After I left Abduls house. I headed for local town Naouadibou. I changed some money and loaded up with 10 litres of extra fuel and 5l of water in preparation for taking on the route through Western Sahara. This would be the most remote section of the Sahara I would have to negotiate, with long distances between fuel stops and no guarantee when I did make them that they would actually sell me less than 20 litres . I figured the 10 extra liters would be enough to get me to the town of Dahkla about 400km away. The funny thing was I was nervous as hell. It was September 11 the militants were reportedly looking for American targets to kidnap to further their aims and while I had lots of information to say everything was now safe in the area the experience with the police man the night before keeping me unnecessarily long at the station examining every detail of my Irish passport and taking particular interest in the fact I was born in the United States had made me very wary. He wanted to know my exact itinerary and exactly what time tomorrow I would be crossing into Western Sahara and I just found it very strange. It was unlike all the other straight forward stops you get throughout Mauritania. That night i slept well at Abduls home but in a semi dream state i had been thinking of my route for the next day and irrational thoughts started to enter my head and by the time I woke up these seemed to have manifested themselves into genuine plausible fears. So when the time came to leave I had this awful feeling about what lay ahead I felt like I was about to ride into trouble. I decided to listen to my gut and not to pass the border that day but instead to ride into the town. In town I met some more Saharawi guys. They approached me inquiring where I had come from on the bike. They addressed me in Spanish. And apart from just being great to chat in a language I understood they were a great source of information and I relaxed a lot. In a nutshell ththe disputed area of Western Sahara used to be Spanish territory but 1975 they decided to give it up and leave. Morocco decided that this territory was now theres and moved in their military and claimed it. This sparked a war between Mauritania as they fought over their respective claims to the area. Mauritania eventually abandoned their claim to Western Sahara and that left Sahawi people now under Moroccon control which they were not happy about. They wanted their right to their own self determination. They have now largely been marginalised and pushed further into the desert and into Algeria. The Morocan military have built and giant sand berm in the desert to try keep them to the western part. So now this area which you will see as called Western Sahara on Google maps is actually administered by Morocco and its borders encompasses it. It is not unanimously recognised by the international community being part of Morocco but all Morrocons say that it is and they get offended if you refer to it as Western Sahara. As a result of this in order to cross from Mauritania into Western Sahara / Morocco you have to negotiate a 1.5km stretch of lawless No mans land that is landmined. Some folk live here and spend their lives hiding from both Militaries. NO mans land is up to 5km wide in places. When I arrived at the border that night I wasnt sure what I would expect to find there. I thought it would be a few small huts and some gates and somewhere I would find a place to camp and try cross first thing in the morning. What I found was a bunch of lined up trucks and some largish concrete buildings consisting mainly of not so inviting looking restaurants and motels. I spotted one traveller sitting beside his bicycle so I figured in would go on up and have chat with him. And he turned.out to be a genuinely nice guy which was a surprise. One because he was French and the other he was a cyclist. He was just a normal person. ;) In my experience some cyclists seem to have an air of I am the superior traveller as i travel on a bicycle, and all tend to have very large beards. His name was Victor he had a very relaxed way about him. He looked as if he had found himself on a long distance bicycle trip by accident, kind of like Ben my old travel buddy. He didnt have typical bicycle attire. But very casual long pants and jumper and big arty type neck scarf and hair defied gravity in all directions. He was full of chat laughs and enthusiasm. He seemed to be a bit of a rouge bicyclist. A good looking and charming chap that gave me the impression he was cycling around the world having love affairs with women where ever he went.. We hit it off quite well and we decided to share a room instead of camping. That night the conversation turned to women as they inevitably do. I told him in passing of beautiful looking Emirates air stewardess on the flight over that I had exchanged details with and he sat up in his bed and his french romantic mind excitedly wandered. Thats it he said you must ride to Casablanca and marry her. You must do it. He lay back down on his bed put his arms behind his head and seemed to day dream. Ah the Emirates air hostesses are the most elegant, so beautiful. Its my dream to meet one. I am so happy for you. You must find her and bring her back to Ireland on your moto... And marry her and you can put cans and a just married sign on your bike.! Its perfect!. Ah you are so lucky. I laughed at his romantic notions. Despite all the talk about the french being romantics I had never met one but Victor was one for sure. The next morning I arose early to make a start at the border formalities. Victor was travelling in the opposite direction and had already passed the border the previous night so he stayed in bed to catch some needed rest. I spent a long time at the border sorting the usual border non sense. Though it was a realitvely stress free crossing it just took a long time . And it was after 10 am before I made it through the Mauri side. Now I just had to cross the landmined no mans land and into Western Sahara/Morocco. I suited up and followed in the tracks of large truck. The area was a mixture of exposed rock and gravel and sand. It was impossible to drive more than a few kph in places because the surface was so broken and rough. Destroyed cars lay all around having been stripped down or burnt out. How they met their end in No Mans Land is anybodies guess. Tyres were strewn about the place. It had strange an eerie aire to it. It brought to my mind images of a mixture of Mad Max and Star Wars. I felt i was in the desert scene in Star Wars and those weird little scrap merchant desert folk would appear over the dunes and immediately dismantle my bike should i leave it umattended for any length and throw it in a large truck just like they had done to poor R2D2 and C-3P0 on Tatooine. When Victor had crossed by himself the previous evening the sun was going down and people were calling after him and following him trying to exchange money and sell him things. He felt nervous and exposed where no laws exist. While at the morrocon side I met an Austrian traveller traveling on a Honda Shadow 650. He was a teacher and traveled in shorts and flip flops. I winsed at his blasé attire particularly his flip flops. I wear shorts from time to time but flips on a 650 is just down right dangerous. He was a lovely chap and had a great carefree attitude. All his stuff was just thrown on to his motorcycle and left dangling about the place but it worked for him and he didnt care. We parted company once the formalities were cleared as he had a time table to keep and I was wanted to nap in the shade on what was a scorcher of a day. Eventually I got going and made maybe 260 km. The wind was extreme and kicked up sand storms sand blasting the front if my visor. The wind off the Atlantic was actually cold now as I skirted along the coast. That night I reached a gas station and the police urged me to sleep there. I slept with the grubby but very welcoming workers inside the station. In was happy enough with my progress but it was a very tough ride with the heavy head winds and i slept well that night..
Posted on: Mon, 15 Sep 2014 09:40:50 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015