I left a flooded Nouakchoot, Mauritania, two days ago. A good foot of rain fell over night. Le foot,for those of you who are European. :)
My tent is getting well worn,I've been sleeping in it 95% of the past 6 or 7 weeks. It has the odd hole in it now. Which I have patched up,as best i can, using my puncture repair kit.But under those conditions, it did leak a bit. My sleeping bag getting wet and some kit. Then the sand of course making a lovely comfortable combination. But that doesn't bother me,there is always a solution.
The storm was a complete freak of nature and almost unheard of. ( check the photos. Not easy to ride off road, in water and take photos. But gave it a go. ) :))
The 'road' had turned into a mud bath. Cars stuck everywhere. My back end wanted to spin to the front. In the end I went for the flatest ground. Which happen to be in the middle of the water. Just went for it at about 15 mph. Not wanting the water to cover the electrics. Worked fine and I got into the town.
Floods we have all seen. But in a 3 rd world country ? They couldn't cope. Simply a lack of infrastructure. The water was above the curbs and you now couldn't see all the pot holes. So I decided to ride on the pavement and gently drop off the curbs. I don't have a sump guard, but will sort that in the English speaking Gambia. :)))
Traffic was mental, and there wasn't one single road sign for Senegal or Rosso. But used my poor French to ask. Totally drenched, I decided to try out the Islamic belief of ' helping a stranger '.
After some 100 km I pulled over and into a tiny rural village. Half a dozen traditional tents,goats and chickens. I asked if I could camp the night. To the oldest male I could see. He noded and off I went to pitch the tent. Not 5 minutes later,a smartly dressed Muslim, in traditional clothes approached. Speaking in English, ( wow ), he asked if I had a problem ? I explained the rain etc. Turned out he was just passing and saw me. He told me it was important for Muslims to look after a stranger in need. And no problem with staying in the village. He returned to the slightly bemused villagers. Where upon they all prayed together. Im guessing, for me. How privileged was I ??
What it gave me was a chance to dry my kit by a fire. Dry ish,some food and a brew. All I need. Sorted. :)
Following morning I said my thank yous. And headed to the notorious Rosso border crossing,to Senegal.
I rode for another 100 km or so and decided to test the locals response, when I stopped for water,in their villages. Everyone was inquuzatative and friendly. One young lad spoke to me in English. Two on the trot !!! The other kids all were scared of my camera. (See covered faces on pics )
He invited me to tea at his house. Loving the local fused brew. I was up for it in a flash. We sat on the floor in his house. Speaking English, as he told of his opinions of his country. It's problems and his desire to join his brother in America. What a pleasure and privilege.
Two sides to Africa. I've actually edited this. But it's that sort of experience, that is my payment in all this.
You will read in the next blog, the other dark side.
All good with me. Bike has been asked to do what some say is impossible for a commuter 125. Yer here we are in Saint Louis. Senegal.
Have a heart and donate by clicking the Help for Heroes logo. Top right.
Will.
