Clips of video from Ghana, Togo, Benin and Nigeria.
Clip of a day out on the KTM 450 of Stefan
woensdag 21 maart 2012
maandag 19 maart 2012
Lovely Nigeria
As it turned out, the border at Chikanda, from Niki was indeed very easy, with Thomas and Anita getting a free 'laissez passez' and the officials on the Togo side not seeing that I passed through Togo without one or any Togo visa whatsoever.
We used our visa cards in the first bank and were surprised the Naira's just flowed out like that, in Parakou,Togo the 4 ATM's refused my visa and mastercard just the day before. The road however turned into a difficult piste just 20 km into Nigeria continuing for about a hundred km, which was very tiring. Apart from a few aggressive immigration officials, we found the Nigerians to be very welcoming and friendly.
It also seems a lot cheaper here, eating streetfood at half a euro or less, drinking a cold coke for the same price and even having a litre of fuel for that same 0,5 euro. Diesel unfortenately is twice the price and pretty hard to find too, our convoy needs to drive into about 10 fuel stations to find one with diesel. Because of the badly potholed roads it took us 4 days to reach Abuja, bushcamping every night, preparing our own food while fending off the irritating small flies, that had the habbit to go inside your ears. Once we got to the busy cities of Mokwa and Bida we also experienced the famous Nigerian driving style, on one car I read 'My security is God', another read 'Take care, God is on my side', which sums it up nicely.
In Bida, we noticed Anita's car was a bit low on the rear and found a big piece of the frame was broken on both sides. In only 2 hours they managed to weld it (very badly), and we were on our way again before noon.
As it was saturday we decided to bushcamp once more and drive into Abuja early sunday, to find the person which Thomas was in contact with, and who had a 'nice big place where we all could camp'.
The contact proved to be Stefan, a german, who works for a big company here and lives in Abuja with his wife Dagmar and 2 kids. As overlanders and bikers themself, they knew exactly what we needed after 4 days in the bush. I'll just list what these hospitable people offered to us , campsite with swimming pool, internet, free beer, complete kitchen to use, workshop for the car from the company and they will wash our clothes and help with the visa. Never in my life I was welcomed so overwhelming, from our bushcamp in the morning, it was like returning to all the comforts of europe. So, now we will use our time in Abuja to get the visa and plan our route to Cameroun. While we are at it, we may also try for the elusive Angola visa, but our chances are slim. And oh, the welding on Anita's car is allready starting to crack and another piece of the exhaust broke off, seems like her car is in permanent repair, but then again, it is as old as she is.
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| Anita, Thomas and Regis |
It also seems a lot cheaper here, eating streetfood at half a euro or less, drinking a cold coke for the same price and even having a litre of fuel for that same 0,5 euro. Diesel unfortenately is twice the price and pretty hard to find too, our convoy needs to drive into about 10 fuel stations to find one with diesel. Because of the badly potholed roads it took us 4 days to reach Abuja, bushcamping every night, preparing our own food while fending off the irritating small flies, that had the habbit to go inside your ears. Once we got to the busy cities of Mokwa and Bida we also experienced the famous Nigerian driving style, on one car I read 'My security is God', another read 'Take care, God is on my side', which sums it up nicely.In Bida, we noticed Anita's car was a bit low on the rear and found a big piece of the frame was broken on both sides. In only 2 hours they managed to weld it (very badly), and we were on our way again before noon.
As it was saturday we decided to bushcamp once more and drive into Abuja early sunday, to find the person which Thomas was in contact with, and who had a 'nice big place where we all could camp'.
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| Sterilizing water as Regis makes dinner |
Togo & Benin
Our last days in Ghana were spent with my motorbike friends in Roots Yard near the border of Togo in the mountainous region of Ho. The day before, Heidi en Jens (Enfield diesels), Tony & Charlie, Max & Marjane and Hubert (Ural sidecar) put their bikes in Tema into a container to be shipped to Walvisbaai, Namibia.
As a result they where now bikeless and took a tro-tro (minibus) to Roots Yard to meet up with us and Matt, who we met in Bamako and who was celebrating his 30th birhtday. Before me and Anita were leaving for Togo, we decided to visit a waterfall. As we decended without guide ( I took a sneaky picture of the guide's map) and only 15 minutes into the walk, the path narrowed and wasn't clear annymore leading into the cascades. I told Anita to wait, while I took a look at where to go, but although standing on dry rock with my climbing boots, I slipped and fell. I recovered, only to slip again, and again, and again, now on the slippery green wet rocks sliding deeper into the cascades on my belly to arrive in the waterpool at the end with a splash. Luckily I didn't hurt myself too bad and with wet sigarettes and money (camera is waterproof, yes!) we arrived at the waterfall a bit later with the rest of the group.
This wasn't the only mishapp of the day, Anita spotted a cashew tree full of fruits, with the cashew nut in a protective shell under the fruit.
The fruit was edible, she knew, but when she tried to get to the cashew nut by biting the shell, a strong acid burnt her tongue and lip. As we went back to Roots Yard, a real tropical thunderstorm forced the group of 7 into Anita's car for the ride back.
Next morning we left our friends to take on the rest of Africa. First was Togo, we crossed the easy border and after taking refuge for a 2 hour downpoor which left the car and my bike luggage wet, we arrived in the dark at the Benedict monestary of Dzobegan.
Just as we were in the shower, the bell for diner went, exactly 7u25, everybody was expected in the dining hall. While we were still eating, a servant took the rest of the food that was still on the table and served desert. It was clear that we needed to eat faster and as soon the desert was finished we were summoned to help with the dishes. In the morning we attended the morning mass, after which I left Anita to take on the rough mountain track towards Atakpamé, all in all a fantastic experience.
By now, I noticed the rear tourance tire, that was still on since I left home more than 3 months and 12000 km ago, had a strange bulge on the side, so it was quickly changed for one of the spare tires that I now keep on the roof of the landy (handy, having a girl with a landy). Togo is just a small country and so the border of Benin was soon reached using a bumpy track that at one place was blocked by a broken down truck, I squeased through while Anita took a detour through the village.
In Benin we made our way to Savé that night to meet up with Thomas, a 21 year old Swiss mechanic, traveling in a 4x4 mercedes van and on his way to Tanzania to work as a 'bush mechanic'. We met with Thomas in Bamako where he already had to work on Anita's clutch.
As we arrived at Savé, and got Thomas on the phone, we saw another overlander in a Toyota landcruiser. Regis, a French national, stepped out and asked: 'are you also looking for Thomas?'
So now we were 4, and after making bushcamp, we decided to spend one more day in Togo to get to the more safe entry North to Nigeria at Niki .
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| Slid some 20 meters before ending here! |
This wasn't the only mishapp of the day, Anita spotted a cashew tree full of fruits, with the cashew nut in a protective shell under the fruit.The fruit was edible, she knew, but when she tried to get to the cashew nut by biting the shell, a strong acid burnt her tongue and lip. As we went back to Roots Yard, a real tropical thunderstorm forced the group of 7 into Anita's car for the ride back.
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| Matt, Tony, Parisa & Bahar |
Next morning we left our friends to take on the rest of Africa. First was Togo, we crossed the easy border and after taking refuge for a 2 hour downpoor which left the car and my bike luggage wet, we arrived in the dark at the Benedict monestary of Dzobegan.
Just as we were in the shower, the bell for diner went, exactly 7u25, everybody was expected in the dining hall. While we were still eating, a servant took the rest of the food that was still on the table and served desert. It was clear that we needed to eat faster and as soon the desert was finished we were summoned to help with the dishes. In the morning we attended the morning mass, after which I left Anita to take on the rough mountain track towards Atakpamé, all in all a fantastic experience.
By now, I noticed the rear tourance tire, that was still on since I left home more than 3 months and 12000 km ago, had a strange bulge on the side, so it was quickly changed for one of the spare tires that I now keep on the roof of the landy (handy, having a girl with a landy). Togo is just a small country and so the border of Benin was soon reached using a bumpy track that at one place was blocked by a broken down truck, I squeased through while Anita took a detour through the village.
In Benin we made our way to Savé that night to meet up with Thomas, a 21 year old Swiss mechanic, traveling in a 4x4 mercedes van and on his way to Tanzania to work as a 'bush mechanic'. We met with Thomas in Bamako where he already had to work on Anita's clutch.
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| Drawing a crowd as we come into Benin |
As we arrived at Savé, and got Thomas on the phone, we saw another overlander in a Toyota landcruiser. Regis, a French national, stepped out and asked: 'are you also looking for Thomas?'
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| The organised chaos in Anita's car |
So now we were 4, and after making bushcamp, we decided to spend one more day in Togo to get to the more safe entry North to Nigeria at Niki .
woensdag 7 maart 2012
Driving South
We quickly made our way south towards the Burkina/Ghana border to leave us enough time to deal with the border customs because we knew that without a carnet, Anita would have a hard time getting the car into Ghana. And that was how it turned out, I got through in 10 minutes with my carnet and getting the car sorted took us the remainding 6 hours of the day, driving to Bolga and back to the border, with some customs officials in the car. She ended up paying 50 euro for an insurance on a bond, basicly the same system as the carnet, but locally. Also they took the official car papers, and sent them to the border where we were exiting the country.
Then it was on to the main goal in Ghana, the beautifull coast, and although Anita was a bit sick, and me having problems with the extreme heat of North Ghana, we made it down in 2 days. On one realy bad road I got stopped by one of the many police checkpoints, and upon being asked 'how the road was', I replied that it was realy bad. The officer threatened to arrest me if I didn't take it back, he said it was a perfectly fine road and remembering my previous arrests, I quickly and fully aggreed.
When arriving at 'the green turtle' it turned out exactly as all the guide books described it, a picture perfect beach heaven.
The temperature was a bit lower here and stayed the same day or night, which made for a realy relaxing 4 day camping experience, diving into the huge waves, having long morning walks or just having a cold beer while reading a book, it was a holiday into a holiday.
We also met up with Charlie and Tony again, who just happened to be here too, and had a discussion about the shipping of the bikes from Accra to Namibia.
As I'm typing this from Cape Coast, we are by now pretty sure we are going to drive, rather than ship, but as the rainy season is already starting and some visa's are next to unobtainable, it will be a tough challenge, but then again, nothing is easy here in Africa. Nobody I know even attempted it in the rainy season, but I'm sure it has been done before. Are we being naive, ignorent or stupid, time will probably tell.
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| Anita forcing a truck off the road |
Then it was on to the main goal in Ghana, the beautifull coast, and although Anita was a bit sick, and me having problems with the extreme heat of North Ghana, we made it down in 2 days. On one realy bad road I got stopped by one of the many police checkpoints, and upon being asked 'how the road was', I replied that it was realy bad. The officer threatened to arrest me if I didn't take it back, he said it was a perfectly fine road and remembering my previous arrests, I quickly and fully aggreed.
When arriving at 'the green turtle' it turned out exactly as all the guide books described it, a picture perfect beach heaven.
The temperature was a bit lower here and stayed the same day or night, which made for a realy relaxing 4 day camping experience, diving into the huge waves, having long morning walks or just having a cold beer while reading a book, it was a holiday into a holiday.
We also met up with Charlie and Tony again, who just happened to be here too, and had a discussion about the shipping of the bikes from Accra to Namibia.
zaterdag 25 februari 2012
Lost and found
"Here I am, sitting in a police office again"
That's what I thought when I went into the big police building here in Ouaga. The story started like this, last sunday Anita and me split up in Segou, Mali. She was driving with 2 other overlanders towards the Dogon country, as it is so beautifull she couldn't miss it, and I would go to Ouaga, Burkina, to get my visa for Ghana and do some work on the bike. Nothing set in concrete, just 'we'll meet up in a few days to a week, I'll call you'.But already the first night in Bobo, Burkina, I couldn't call her with my Malian number and also with a new Burkinabe number I had no luck in contacting her. The following days I sent her some e-mails, but I was well aware that in Dogon country, there is no internet and in big parts, no telephone reception. So, by thursday, I started to get a little nervous. I had no contact details for Thomas or Matias, with who she was traveling, and I knew the piste from Dogon to the border is hardgoing, because I did that track last year.
So by friday afternoon all sorts of scenarios were playing in my head, especialy since I knew this was the last day her visa for Burkina was valid, she had to cross today. I felt I needed to do something, so there I was, in the central police office, asking them to phone the border post to hear if they saw her pass. After a few phonecalls, they informed me that she had not crossed the border, and they would keep me informed if she turned up.
Back in the auberge, Guillaume, the owner and also a biker, called his contacts in the Dogon, and found out she had been spotted on wednesday, together with the two others, this was a huge relieve, but the big surprise came one hour later, when my phone rang and it was Anita, saying she was at the border and she coudn't realy talk now, but she would be in Ouaga the next day. What had happened: turns out that with the troubles in Mali and with huge numbers of refugees coming into Burkina, there was actually a great amount of police and armed forces around the border, and they went out to search and found Anita camping in the bush near the border. How they found her so quick is a mistery, but I guess it's their job, right. It certainly must have been quiete scary, she on her own, somewhere in the bush, sudenly surrounded by police with machine guns, they took her to a safer place and let her call me on their phone. . Next day she arrived here by noon, telling me another chilling detail: on the way down, she hit a bump in the road too hard, and spun her car 360 degrees around. Too much information for me at that time and I was just very glad she was here safe and with me.
maandag 20 februari 2012
Burkina Faso
I got up early to drive to Ouagadougou trying to beat the midday heat.
Even though it rained for a while, by noon it was brutally hot again, but luckily the toll road from Bobo to Ouaga is in good shape so I arrived safe and well in the capital, where I will spend the rest of the week taking care of the bike and trying to arrange my visa for Ghana and Cameroun.
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| 8 o'clock in the morning |
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| 11 o'clock in the morning |
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| Fitting the new chain |
vrijdag 17 februari 2012
Things are clear!
Remember I told you all how I believe everything happens for a reason. Well, now everything has become clear. While this thing just kept on going, and the police and procureur just kept me waiting, last week a girl with a landrover drove into the auberge, and immediately I was lost. One week later, me and Anita are a couple and she has realy got me through this ordeal.She is traveling to Namibia and as this is where I'm going we will take on this adventure together.
This morning, it was my last chance to get the bike back before she had to leave, and after waiting for 2 hours at the 'tribunal' the miracle happened. They said I would get my bike, camera and gps back.
This morning, it was my last chance to get the bike back before she had to leave, and after waiting for 2 hours at the 'tribunal' the miracle happened. They said I would get my bike, camera and gps back.
Now I'm sitting in the auberge and still it hasn't sunk in, I'm free. In one hour I will pack my stuff and leave the place where I stayed for 5 weeks and then we're off to the Segou festival and monday towards Burkina. Bye bye Mali.
Thanks for all the support! Next blog from Burkina!
Update: Just arrived in Bobo-Dioulasso,Burkina Faso, tomorrow I will be in Ouagadougou to arrrange some visa, work on the bike and wait for Anita, Thomas (Swiss in a 4x4 van) and Matias/Matea (Slovenian in a van) to arrive. I'm just very glad to be out of Mali, and in the next weeks will travel downwards towards Nigeria and Cameroun.
vrijdag 3 februari 2012
Arrested
After my friends left the auberge for another bush excursion to a waterfall near Sikasso, I thought it was time to make that instructional video of 'how to pack the bike for overland travel' that I was planning for a long time. For that I needed a peacefull and quite place outdoors preferably without people staring at me. This prooved very hard to find in a capital of millions, and the day before I didn't find such a place around the auberge at the riverbank, there's always people around, lots of people. So today I drove 15 km out of town towards the airport. It still took me an hour but finally I found a reasonable spot behind some trees in a field. The video only took 15 minutes to make and just when I was packing the big tripod and camera, a complete delegation of military personnel turned up.
This is a link to the video:
how to pack your bike
About 10 people, with different uniformes and even some white people with big camera's. They didn't looked too surprised to see me and the whole group kinda ingnored me, but the big chef 'de la gendarme de l'aeroport' immediately confiscated my passport and camera, telling me I was in a restricted area. He sent an armed guard on the back of my bike to escort me to the gerdarmerie. There followed 4 hours of interrogation, me trying to explain the term 'instructional video' in vain, and then they escorted me to my auberge, as I told them I was sick and needed my medicine. Next day I reported back to the station at 9 am, to be told at 1 pm to come back the next day, my camera was still being examined by the technical labo and my passport still conficated.
Today it took a turn for the worst, after waiting for 8 hours going from one high ranking official to another, they actually locked me up. This was at the ' service investigation judicielle'.
The only reason I was able to type this is because I convinced the doctor I got a medical problem so they had to bring me back to the auberge for my medicine.
I have to present myself tomorrow at 9, hopefully I can contact the Belgian embassy by then.
Update: almost 1 week later and still no real solution, they keep telling me I don't have to worry, because I didn't commit any serious crimes, but even though the consul of the Belgian embassy does a good job, and me turning up every day, things just seem to take forever. For somebody like me, who was impatient all off his life, this is a big lesson and I'm trying to look at it from the positive side as I'm a strong believer that 'everything happens for a reason' in life. Things will become clear very soon.
how to pack your bike
About 10 people, with different uniformes and even some white people with big camera's. They didn't looked too surprised to see me and the whole group kinda ingnored me, but the big chef 'de la gendarme de l'aeroport' immediately confiscated my passport and camera, telling me I was in a restricted area. He sent an armed guard on the back of my bike to escort me to the gerdarmerie. There followed 4 hours of interrogation, me trying to explain the term 'instructional video' in vain, and then they escorted me to my auberge, as I told them I was sick and needed my medicine. Next day I reported back to the station at 9 am, to be told at 1 pm to come back the next day, my camera was still being examined by the technical labo and my passport still conficated.
Today it took a turn for the worst, after waiting for 8 hours going from one high ranking official to another, they actually locked me up. This was at the ' service investigation judicielle'.
The only reason I was able to type this is because I convinced the doctor I got a medical problem so they had to bring me back to the auberge for my medicine.
I have to present myself tomorrow at 9, hopefully I can contact the Belgian embassy by then.
Update: almost 1 week later and still no real solution, they keep telling me I don't have to worry, because I didn't commit any serious crimes, but even though the consul of the Belgian embassy does a good job, and me turning up every day, things just seem to take forever. For somebody like me, who was impatient all off his life, this is a big lesson and I'm trying to look at it from the positive side as I'm a strong believer that 'everything happens for a reason' in life. Things will become clear very soon.
donderdag 26 januari 2012
Update from Bamako
After returning from Bandiagara, camping on the piste near Segou, I discovered the open wound on my foot was infected, and worse, this had triggered an allergic reaction in the skin of my hands and feet, called dyshidrosis. It was like every finger had 20 mosquito bites, and it was very itchy and painfull. The next day I could hardly close my hand and found the rash spread to my arms and feet, so I was of to the hospital. After being treated with anti-biotics, anti histamine and some other stuff things are looking better now, but it will take the rest of the week to fully recover.
In the mean time, I met up with some other Belgians here in Bamako, Max & Marjane, who are driving a KTM motorbike and are on the same route southwards as me. I was in contact with Max for months now and was quite surprised to find hilm here in Bamako, as he left Belgium six months ago. This newly wed couple sure take their time and I will be happy to travel together with them when we meet again in Burkina or Nigeria.
My other travel partners, Tony and Charlie, will go their own way in the next few days, driving towards Accra, Ghana with Heidi and Jens on their diesel Enfields, to catch a freightship to Namibia, effectively skipping the most dangerous and hard going part of Africa.
In the mean time, I met up with some other Belgians here in Bamako, Max & Marjane, who are driving a KTM motorbike and are on the same route southwards as me. I was in contact with Max for months now and was quite surprised to find hilm here in Bamako, as he left Belgium six months ago. This newly wed couple sure take their time and I will be happy to travel together with them when we meet again in Burkina or Nigeria.
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| Max & Marjane |
maandag 16 januari 2012
donderdag 12 januari 2012
Getting things sorted
'Nigeria closes borders after unrest about fuel prices and Boko Haram attacks'
This news got the overlanders here in a bit of panic, as a group of Australians were already waiting for a week for their Nigerians visa's, to no avail. I got my visa application in the day before, and was not expecting much when I went to the embassy today, but to my surprise, I got the visum in 20 minutes, after I explained I was only transiting Nigeria on my way to Cameroun. Maybe the fact I got my DRC visa already, made them give it to me, but there is no logic to it, like there is no logic in Africa anyway.
My friends, Charlie and Tony, were already planning another route, invalving container shipping their bikes from Ghana to Namibia, but I prefered the road option, and today it seems, the Nigerians are going to let me have my way. One happy Tony!
Yesterday was a succes also, with me and Tom going into town and buying a new chinese BT 125 Super Nr 1 motorbike.
Now we are ready to get going for an adventure through the villages and sights of Mali, at the pace of the locals, eating their food and sleeping where they sleep.
The night before we left the owner of the 'sleeping camel' had a special treat for us, roasted pig.
This news got the overlanders here in a bit of panic, as a group of Australians were already waiting for a week for their Nigerians visa's, to no avail. I got my visa application in the day before, and was not expecting much when I went to the embassy today, but to my surprise, I got the visum in 20 minutes, after I explained I was only transiting Nigeria on my way to Cameroun. Maybe the fact I got my DRC visa already, made them give it to me, but there is no logic to it, like there is no logic in Africa anyway.
My friends, Charlie and Tony, were already planning another route, invalving container shipping their bikes from Ghana to Namibia, but I prefered the road option, and today it seems, the Nigerians are going to let me have my way. One happy Tony!
Now we are ready to get going for an adventure through the villages and sights of Mali, at the pace of the locals, eating their food and sleeping where they sleep.
The night before we left the owner of the 'sleeping camel' had a special treat for us, roasted pig.
maandag 9 januari 2012
Exit Sandland
After spending a few days in busy Nouakchott getting things sorted, it was time for me, Charlie and Tony to get on the road towards Mali. But first we needed to navigate the gridlock traffic of Nouakchott:
The road Eastwards is one of the few tarmaced roads in Mauritania and basicly connects one dusty desert town after another. First there was Aleg, where we stayed in the least dilapitaded hotel we found, eating safe things as bread and cans of sardines, as the street stal food was not trusted. Then it was onto Kiffa, but as we drove out of Aleg, there was no fuel to be found.
They assured us there was fuel in the next town, but as things go, this was ofcourse not true. We had a discussion on what to do, as we could drive on for about 100 km before we ran out, but we certainly wouldn't get to Kiffa. For about an hour we searched and questionned the inhabitants for the precious liquid and in the end the solution came in the form of Mr Idoumou , the 'grand chef du tourisme' in the south of Mauritania, who rolled the window of his mercedes down and greeted us in perfect English, asking what we needed.
He offered to send a taxi with fuel from Nouakchott, but luckily found some fuel from the army within 20 minutes and we were left with no choise but to pay the 60 euro for 20 litres he had on offer. This fuel just got all of us to Kiffa, where I put 23.9 litres in my 23 litre tank at the one gasstation that had unleaded fuel. The problem here is that everybody drives diesel cars and the are no mopeds, so no need for unleaded.
We stayed at 'Le Phare du Desert' but left the breakfast untouched as the water for the coffee had the same merky taste as the night before, and with our tanks full we set of to the last stop in this sandy hell, Ayoun El Atrous. Because I couldn't care about looking for another hotel, we just stayed where I stayed last year, again having dinner in the form of bread and sardines,as the chicken we ordered in the plastic flower restaurant was lukewarm and wisely refused.
So next morning I was in good spirits to leave for the border with Mali, and after 130 km we checked out of SandLand dodging the bribe attempt at the customs office and repeating it one the Mali side, as they too asked for money to put the stamp in the passport. Cheap it was not going to be as we had to get the 'ecowas' insurance for 2 months and a pretty expensive 'laissez passer' which had to be stamped by the police, and guess what, they also wanted our money. When Charlie insisted on a receipt, we got into an arguement as they were claiming they had no receipts because it was sunday. In the end we payed up and drove to our first stop in black africa at Diema.
In Diema we paid a visit to Pam and her Village Ventures programme and it was nice seeing she was doing well. She build a couple of new houses and was busy with some other projects too.The village of Diema is very lucky with such a dedicated lady.
We spend the night in her new luxerious hut and in the morning I was anxious to get to Bamako where I would meet up with my Belgian friend Tom. For months now, we had the plan to buy a moped in Bamako and drive around Mali for a couple of weeks going from small village to village, and expierencing the real Africa. So early morning I was on my way to meet him, driving very slowly, cause my motorcycle chain was about to break.
The day before I noticed one link of the chain was damaged, but the bike was still driveble. At a steady pace of 70 km/u I purred toward the capital to arrive just past noon. My friend was waiting for me at 'the sleeping camel' as promised and I was glad I was able to keep my promise of getting there in time after 4 weeks and 6800 km of driving. Moreso, he had all the presents with him that I told him to take. He managed to check in with Brussels Airlines with my back tyre, 4 litres of motorcycle oil and loads of other stuff.
It felt like a late christmas and now we are here in Bamako, sorting out what little bike we can buy for him. It's probably going to be a Chinese one, I'll post a picture soon.
The road Eastwards is one of the few tarmaced roads in Mauritania and basicly connects one dusty desert town after another. First there was Aleg, where we stayed in the least dilapitaded hotel we found, eating safe things as bread and cans of sardines, as the street stal food was not trusted. Then it was onto Kiffa, but as we drove out of Aleg, there was no fuel to be found.
They assured us there was fuel in the next town, but as things go, this was ofcourse not true. We had a discussion on what to do, as we could drive on for about 100 km before we ran out, but we certainly wouldn't get to Kiffa. For about an hour we searched and questionned the inhabitants for the precious liquid and in the end the solution came in the form of Mr Idoumou , the 'grand chef du tourisme' in the south of Mauritania, who rolled the window of his mercedes down and greeted us in perfect English, asking what we needed.
He offered to send a taxi with fuel from Nouakchott, but luckily found some fuel from the army within 20 minutes and we were left with no choise but to pay the 60 euro for 20 litres he had on offer. This fuel just got all of us to Kiffa, where I put 23.9 litres in my 23 litre tank at the one gasstation that had unleaded fuel. The problem here is that everybody drives diesel cars and the are no mopeds, so no need for unleaded.
We stayed at 'Le Phare du Desert' but left the breakfast untouched as the water for the coffee had the same merky taste as the night before, and with our tanks full we set of to the last stop in this sandy hell, Ayoun El Atrous. Because I couldn't care about looking for another hotel, we just stayed where I stayed last year, again having dinner in the form of bread and sardines,as the chicken we ordered in the plastic flower restaurant was lukewarm and wisely refused.
So next morning I was in good spirits to leave for the border with Mali, and after 130 km we checked out of SandLand dodging the bribe attempt at the customs office and repeating it one the Mali side, as they too asked for money to put the stamp in the passport. Cheap it was not going to be as we had to get the 'ecowas' insurance for 2 months and a pretty expensive 'laissez passer' which had to be stamped by the police, and guess what, they also wanted our money. When Charlie insisted on a receipt, we got into an arguement as they were claiming they had no receipts because it was sunday. In the end we payed up and drove to our first stop in black africa at Diema.
In Diema we paid a visit to Pam and her Village Ventures programme and it was nice seeing she was doing well. She build a couple of new houses and was busy with some other projects too.The village of Diema is very lucky with such a dedicated lady.
We spend the night in her new luxerious hut and in the morning I was anxious to get to Bamako where I would meet up with my Belgian friend Tom. For months now, we had the plan to buy a moped in Bamako and drive around Mali for a couple of weeks going from small village to village, and expierencing the real Africa. So early morning I was on my way to meet him, driving very slowly, cause my motorcycle chain was about to break.
The day before I noticed one link of the chain was damaged, but the bike was still driveble. At a steady pace of 70 km/u I purred toward the capital to arrive just past noon. My friend was waiting for me at 'the sleeping camel' as promised and I was glad I was able to keep my promise of getting there in time after 4 weeks and 6800 km of driving. Moreso, he had all the presents with him that I told him to take. He managed to check in with Brussels Airlines with my back tyre, 4 litres of motorcycle oil and loads of other stuff. |
| My friend Tom |
It felt like a late christmas and now we are here in Bamako, sorting out what little bike we can buy for him. It's probably going to be a Chinese one, I'll post a picture soon.
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