Wednesday, 30 September 2009

He Says – Jumpin’ the gun one more time.

30–09-09

I woke up at about 3 am. Nervous and itching to go. We had been sitting around for 3 days, the entire time me thinking about a 400km ride with bandits, no fuel and no water. On a bike that seems not to be living up to its reputation. In all fairness Anubis is fine, but after three days of sitting there worrying about Tam, the mind start coming up with things.. the speedo may not a be a broken cable (yet we know it is cus I have had the 2 pieces in my hand) the squeaky noise may not just be the faring (yet I know it is cus I can stop it by resting my hand on it). This is the problem with idleness you have nothing to do but come up with the worst possible scenario.

I let Tam sleep as long as I could then I packed the bike letting her just sit there nursing a dry and stale bit of baguette. By 8am I was packed and ready to go, it took Tam about 30 min more to get ready but we were on the road early. Dakla is big enough that I did no worry and jump in to the first petrol station I saw. But then I did not see any more so of course I jumped in the very next one I saw. This turned out to be the right decision because in the first 80k there was only one more. We hit the road prepared for being stopped every 50m like the day before, and had 10 pre-filled fiches ready. The first check- point we did come to seemed to recognise us and asked only if we had registered in that check point a couple of days a go. As we had we were sent on our way in seconds. We only hit one more all day and they only did a cursory glance at us. So much for all the work Tam did filling in the fiches.

The ride was actually quite easy, there was fuel and water available about every 100k (give or take 50k) and the road for the most part was in good condition. The landscape went from true Sahara, to rocky desert to sandy beach, to the oddest moonscape you have ever seen. There was a ½ metre of rocky crust that was under pinned by sand and when the sand was blown away it would collapse. This made for a series of “bad land tables” that were unnervingly close to the road. It was also a little disturbing that in many ways the road we were riding on was the same and you could see that in the not to distant future some of the road would fall to the same fate.

We made it to Barbara’s at about 1130h, both feeling quite good, in a spur of the moment decision we decided to go for it and get to Mauritania today. 80k later we pulled up to the border.

Now hungry we stopped for some lunch of stale bread and tuna, well the very idea of this turned me off of the food so I simply drank a coke. Refreshed we headed to the customs gate. Tam was feeling off. For some reason we did not even discuss leaving it day and headed in. The Moroccan border was slow. They take your passport, go hide in an office for 20 min call you and ask all the same questions that we have been asked a million times, and then point you to the next window, about 1 1/2 hours of little hassle but lost of standing around later, we though we were done. During this time we met a couple of British women, one in a 4x4 the other a large lorry delivering housing material to a charity in Mali. They knew the deal and were a bit faster then us. They offered to drive Tam across the no-man’s-land but I refused. Besides we had just found out that we now had to go through the military check point as well. Luckily this did not take long. While I was dealing with this Tam asked around to see where we could exchange our Durhams to Oogs, and we were told no-man’s-land is best or in Mauritania. We both thought it was illegal to bring out Durhams but as this was the official’s advice so I guess not.

Finally we were done. We drove out of the custom compound to ”no-man’s-land” and in to a sea of car carcases, landmines (no-joke), and black market money (and anything else) sellers. We passed by the black market and headed in to the rough track. It was bumpy and slow going, but we were doing okay, well that was until I chose the wrong side of the track and instead of getting though I bogged Anubis to the bash plate.

Tam was feeling very ill by this stage and was not happy about the delay, and we started to have one of the (more rare but) legendary “your not listening to me” fights. We got out by brute force and continued on. The track in ”no-man’s-land” is not really a track but a series of them, there is not one clear route so you kinda just have to pick your path at every turn. At one point the choice was up and over the hill or around it, up and over was obviously the shorter route, but something told me that if the other one exists then the up and over must be hard. We took the around the hill route. Except for one small back tracking at this point it all went smoothly. When we finally came around the other side of the hill I was proven to be correct, the British women were stuck on the hill. Well the lory was. As I pulled up to the side of the track on to see if they were in trouble I saw then drive off in their 4x4 (presumably to get help for the lorry). I had to decide then if I should try to help as well. Tam was increasingly feeling ill, and there was no clear (mine free) path to them, I would have to go all the way back. This would risk a bogging of our own. I am sorry to say that I decided on self-preservations and did not go back to help. I knew that they would get what they needed as there were too many able bodies around for them not to. For them it was a matter of time (and possibly money) for me it was a risk and a sick Tam. Only a few minutes later, as our speed and confidence grew on the track we reached the paved section of the Mauritanian border. The no-mans land was not 50k or even 5k but an easy 2.3k.

The border was closed. There where people milling around but nothing was happening. If we were the only ones I would have been worried but a few Mauritanians were there too and did not seem concerned. We waited there for almost an hour before they let us in one at a time. By this stage Tam was like a wilting flower and I was kind of worried. I kept asking her if I should just ask them to let her sit out of the sun but she refused. We got to the military checkpoint and they took the same details that the Moroccans did but they did not want the fiche I handed them. It was Moroccan! “phaaaaah”. Oh well more work for them, paper work completed I was told to give them a “present of 1€” (by them).. yeah some present. I explained that I had no euros and they told me the durhams, dollars anything is fine and had the prices for all of them.
As I was leaving I saw the two British vehicles arrive, my conscience was cleared of worry. I may not have made the nice choice but I think the right one (for us).

Once that was done we some how got in to the clutches of a tout. It happened so quickly that at first I did not even see it. However, in this case I think it was worth it. He cut me though the lines at the police check point. Where I went up with both passports and was told to “call over your woman” (Tam was guarding the bike and trying to be well). That check went smooth and no issues and no bribes.

I then had to go get the Carnet Du passage signed and sealed and if it where not for the tout I would never have guessed that the plank shanty shed was the official customs office. The tout, once again, brought me to the front of the line, and the paper work was take from me immediately and filled out immediately. I may have missed out of a cup of tea, but Tam was standing in the sun by the bike. However, she no longer looked green just a shade of grey. Here I was told the price for the carnet was 100 durhams I am not sure if this was another bribe or if it was legit but paid it anyway.

The tout then hustled me in to the insurance office, where I had to buy Mauritanian insurance this turned out to be cheaper then I thought it should be, but he only accepted Oogs. Well as luck would have it our tout friend just happened to be an official exchange officer,,, wow no kidding, what stroke of luck (yeah right!!).. None the less he actually gave me a good rate and I exchanged all the money we had. The insurance office was also a good place to do the exchange too, the border post was a very windy place and I ended up getting 91,400 Oogs, so a lot of paper and much easier to count in an office, then in the windy street.

We were done in less then an hour, and it was all done correctly. We were now free agents again. I did tip the tout 200 Oogs (about 0.75€), I think he did actually speed the process up believe it or not.