Africa. Two sides. The good.

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.

Nouckhout

Update. Just got to the capital. Did 285 km today. Hot, humid and solitry.Knackered !! For the distance, the most tiering ride so far.But i found a place to camp, right on the beach. I had expected to pitch up at a Gerndarme check point. This place is run by a French guy, called Nicolas. Food is very pricey. More than European prices, but it's only €5 to camp. The beach is white sand and has few people using it. By all accounts, wealthy Mauritanians and Embassy personal come here.

Apparently the capital is an absolute dump. Rubbish everywhere and full of mosquitos. So I'd say I got very lucky. What a contrast. 99% of the country lives in either home made wooden shaks or nomadic tents. Yet here I could be in Barbados.

Just had a German guy come over. We spoke at the Morrocan border. Small world.  He sells cars from Germany in Mauritania. Makes a profit and then lives the good life in northern Morocco.

There seems to be a little industry doing this. In particular selling in The Gambia. Where there isn't any import documents. Going to take a look at it myself.

Well, long day. Very humid. Drank 4 litres of water today, whilest riding. All good though. :) Going to have a quick swim in the morning. :)))

Speak soon.

Will

Mauritania. Day one.

Having done around 450 km yesterday. And now some 170 km into Mauritania. I got up at 6.30 am and boiled some water, with a view to showing my appreciation to the Gerndarme National. ( Mauritanian Police.)

I gave one of them a anglais tee..
He was polite, had a sip and returned the glass. Not ten minutes later one of the Gerndarme came to me with a glass of tea.  Wow !! Talk about a nice cuppa. ( well glass.). Tasted familiar somehow. 10/10.Loved it. I'm actually at a petrol station having one right now.  :)

I had a right giggle with the Gerndarme this morning. Neither of us truly understanding each other. But they were definitely taking the mickey out of one of their team and his hair.To which I pointed and said " Micheal Jackson ". ..and did a rubbish moon walk in the sand. Well, their Kalashnicovs nearly fell over with laughter.

Funny how a laugh and a moon walk can cross language and cultural barriers. :)

It's hot here. And it's only 10.30 am.The very strong wind makes for some interesting riding positions. But that's all part of the fun.

Infrastructure wise. The road is narrow but in good order. The people live in wooden shaks, without electricity or running water. ) That reminds me, im down to my last 3 litres).

So far at least, the Mauritanian people have been friendly. I don't know if they are over charging me. But things are not cheap, cheap.4, 000 local currency, bought me 10 lt of fuel. About £1 a litre. A tiny tea is 100 Ouguiya. ( 25p.) Ciggerets are 600 Ouguiya in the desert. ( £1.50 ) But things like Fanta and chocolate are Uk / western prices. ( If you can find them. )

So far so good. Feeling a tad tiered. The Gerndarme check point was busy all night with trucks. And I didn't get done writing the last blog till gone mid night. ( Check point was a squalid brick building and.....a caravan )!!!!

Aiming for the capital now. And will see if I can repeat camping at a Gerndarme check point near there. Leaving me 200 km to the Senegal. Rosso border crossing point. Which is meant to be very corrupt. But I have my Visa already, which leaves the importation of the bike and buying more extortionate insurance. The rough figure per border is £100, for me and the bike. And i have 16 countries to do.Plus bribes of course ! There is no way my money will last to South Africa. Fingers crossed for the odd ' Fuel Tank ' donation. (Right hand side. ) :))))

Well. Took a few photos. Saving these  blogs to Draft and publishing at suitable moments.

Mauritanian border

I wild camped in the Sahara for the last time, some 150 km south of Dakhla.

I quite enjoy the whole wild camping. Finding a decent spot. Out of view from anyone. I fry the luncheon meat and pop some cheese on the frizzby bread. Have a brew and watch the stars. I've not actually watched a TV show since March. Due to living in the ' bunk waggon ', on the Extreme Stunt Show for 26 weeks. And being on the road doing this challenge, since September 14 th. Can't say I've missed my 42" tv or most of the rubbish on it.

I packed my camp away this morning and was back on the only tarmac road for 11 am. I had about 240 km to the border. From my research, I'd read of bribery on both sides of the border. Hassles and long delays.And definitely a 4 km stretch between Morocco and Mauritania, creativity known as ' No Mans Land '. 

No Man's Land is not tarmac or asphalt. It's desert and rock. Either side of this invisible track is a mine field. I mean that literally. Apparently from a previous war the two countries had. ( Check the photos out. )

One couple blew themselves up recently.  But normally it's just camels that tred on a mine. And proceed to throw themselves 50 meters in the air. And scatter themselves over a half block radius.!!!!!!!

I got to the Morrocan border. A bit tiered , but more annoyed than anything.  At the prospect of being told to pay a bribe multiple times. I decided I would play dumb. ( " Me no understand French. ").And also become a charity worker for African children for the day. :)

Morrocan Police first. Got shouted back, as I rode straight through their check point. " Oops!! " Had to fill a form in, in French. Did it, amazingly, handed it in and got my first passport stamp. All whilst I rattled on about being a charity aid worker in Africa.

Customs the Army and then finally the Police again. All understood I was an aid worker for les enfant african...

It worked. 30 minutes and all done !! A que of folk still waiting, all of whom were ahead of me. Result.

The barrier lifted and the Morrocan tarmac road ended. Into No Mans Land. Loads of annoying people milling about. 'Misuer '...'misuer'....shook my head. Stood up on my bike, put my bum on my rolled up doss bag. And went for it, following the tyre marks in the sand.

Cars were on their roof left and right of me. Stripped out and gutted. (Bit like their owners, no doubt.) Tv sets were stroon everywhere. No idea what that was all about. All while some 'no mans land' man, waved at me. So I took a photo and waved back.

4 km later..." What's all the fuss about " ? Pleased to write that. :)) It obviously can be dangerous. Follow tyre tracks. Say "non" to the dodgy looking men in 'no mans land'. (Name change to 'Loads of Mans Land' , mighty be in order.)

Into Mauritania. ...the border looked decidedly poor, compared to Morocco. The army were scruffy. And the supppsed soldier booking my passport in, spent 20 minutes waffling on his mobile to his Mrs or someone !! ' oy '..I said.Pointing at his computer. I then smiled and went back to being a charity aid worker, for African children. 

Eventually I was met by a lad from The Gambia. A mini con man come Hawker. He filled all my Import paperwork in for the bike. I then paid €10 bribe to Mauritania Customs. And gave the lad €5 for removing all the hassle. €15 and no stress, to get through both borders ?? Happy at that. Paid for my bike insurance €20 for seven days.( No con there.) Changed some Dehram into Mauritanian currency and was off. It's desert, hotter than the Sahara and very, very windy. It's like riding a bike in an oven with a sand blast machine in your face. Liking that a lot. :)))

I've done about 200 km this side. And as I write, am laid in my tent.
Along side a Mauritanian Police check point . They have been just great. Very friendly and helpful. All in French of course. So im utterlizing their security and also gas cooker. Lol. ( They brought it over when they saw my hexi blocks).

All in all, a great day.  Enjoyed it. Mauritania is noticeable hotter. And the desert here has way more bugs and snakes. Ive seen plenty already.One of the pics is a snake I nearly camped next to. You can see the markings in the sand. " ooow snake trails.....ooooow snake "!!! Check out the caravans, that was someone s home and repair business. And look at the local restaurant. Hhhhmmm....yummmy !!!

Early one in the morning, before the sun gets too hot. Heading for the capital, Nouchkot.

I've ridden 450 km today on a 125cc bike. Through deserts and a 4 km long minefield. It's hard going. It's expensive. And it's dangerous. Northern Mauritania, where I am. Is an Al Queda strong hold. I'm doing this to draw attention to the plight of wounded servicemen. Most of whom have lost arms and legs. If you like what I'm doing. Have a heart and click the Help for Heroes logo. Top right. It's direct to the charity. I personally pay for the costs of this challenge. You can then leave me a little message too. :) I like a few words to have my feel good factor.

Please help me out here, so we can help wounded servicemen.

Will