Still in one piece and across the Sahara

13 December 2006

The road across the Sahara

With over 1000 km still to cover before we get to the Mauritanian border we pack up camp and leave for Laayoune at 7:45. The downside of this is that nothing is open and we have to hang around before we can use the Internet or grab something for lunch. Back on the truck by 10:30 after topping up with several hundred litres of fuel and 10 Jerry cans of water – for cooking, washing up etc. We are stopped for speeding on the way out of Laayoune with the police saying we are doing 56kmh. A fine of 400 dirham is threatened which is a bit harsh when we were going much slower; this is a classic con trick to line the wallets of the rather corrupt officials. Stuart says ok and asks for a receipt. At that point the charge is dropped, a handshake offered and we are on our way.

We spend the whole day on the road but progress is again limited due to the regular road blocks for passport checks. Unfortunately, Dave is spotted taking a photo of one of the guard posts and is taken off the truck and questioned. We are now in the Western Sahara which is still a disputed territory so such things are frowned upon…..however with the Moroocan flag flying, a giant dolphin on a pole and nothing but sand for miles it was a good photo. After showing his passport, apologising profusely and deleting the offending photos he is released without charge.

We stop twice in the afternoon as the engine is overheating but Robin identifies the problem as a leaking hose and after making repairs we are back on our way. Bush camp is made in the middle of nowhere. Robin, who is increasingly making Ray Mears look like a sofa loving nancy and has now been nicknamed McGyver, somehow finds some firewood and supplements this with a bin liner of camel dung. The resulting fire is crucial as the temperature drops dramatically once the sun goes down with high winds forcing us to shelter behind the truck.

The twisted fire starter.....

With nothing for miles there is no light pollution whatsoever and the clear night sky is hellishly impressive with thousands of constellations visible to the naked eye!

14 December 2006

Awake in the small hours to the sound of excessive giggling from Michelle and Francesca’s tent. We find out at breakfast that this was due to gerbils fighting and trying to get into their tent. Michelle also accuses them of attacking her shoes. No evidence is provided and the group remain somewhat sceptical! 600km to do today if we are to cross into Mauritania early tomorrow morning so we are once again away before 8.

The roads are a lot better today with fewer road blocks and we make excellent progress, crossing the Tropic of Cancer line (23 degrees 27 minutes) reaching our target – yet another bush camp – some 20km shy of the Mauritanian border. Parking up in the Saharan dunes. Unfortunately, Claudia announces that she will be leaving for home in Austria. She has not been well since we left Spain and has barely eaten. While this is extremely sad news it is, under the circumstances, the right decision, as the journey only will get tougher and her condition is showing no signs of improving.

With the border crossing scheduled for first thing in the morning we need to consume any remaining alcohol on the truck or stash it well enough to get through customs (as an Islamic Republic Mauritania fines anyone trying to import alcohol!). In the end we manage a halfway house and quite a few of us pop off to bed a little worse for wear; especially Tom who only makes it half way into his tent! His excuse being that he was looking at the stars and fell asleep…..mmmmm!

15 December 2006

Arriving at the border crossing at 9 it takes us some 6 hours before we are on the open roads of Mauritania. Rather bizarrely it is the Moroccan side that takes the longest. The general principal being that you will get through quicker if you pay bribes to the corrupt customs officials. Heavy bartering, a tough stance and four hours later we are heading across several kilometres of potholed no-mans land – strewn with wrecked cars it is like a scene from Mad Max - we are thrown to all sides of the truck eventually reaching the series of sheds that make up Mauritanian border controls. The first one is the Police who take almost an hour to look at our passports, we then see Immigration who give the truck a cursory once over and finally we sort the paperwork for the truck and are on our way – a mile down the road we are stopped by Police again who start to search the lockers. Miraculously they fail to find the various stashes of liquor that John R, Cindy etc have tucked away! The entire border crossing has cost us 2 packets of biscuits, 4 pens and 100 dirham (£7) in bribes – not bad really! Stunning views of the Mauritanian coastline which seems to go on forever….not surprising that the beach is huge really….it’s all part of the Sahara. We drive into Nouadhibou and are greeted by a large sign warning us of minefields (still in the much disputed Western Sahara). Welcome to Mauritania!

Nouadhibou is relatively new and is nothing much to look at being a series of low rise breeze block buildings and shanty hamlets. The town is surrounded by the world’s richest fishing area, the rights to which have been sold to the EU to finance the national debt – as a result there is a distinct smell of fish in the air. Goats wander the streets which are lined with battered vehicles which somehow still run, albeit with plumes of smoke coming from engines and exhausts. Arrive at the campsite – red hot and not a cloud in the sky. We are greeted by several men keen to exchange money – (320 Ouguiyas to the euro) one of which is wearing a Man Utd shirt - is there no escape? The other two are more flamboyantly (and respectably) dressed in blue and white robes! After 3 days bush camping it is great to get a shower, even if it is cold! Have a walk round the town although there is nothing much to see and by 4 in the afternoon everything is pretty much closed! Early to bed. Completely bushed and obviously far too much excitement for one day!

16 December 2006

Leave Nouadhibou with the original intention of Bush camping in the Sahara. We see little on the road apart from the odd truck crammed full of people, a range of Bedouin tents and the odd nomadic herdsman and accompanying camel train. In the end the heat and driving winds persuade us to press on for Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania.

Covering 485 km across the desert in a day takes some doing and it is past 5 when we arrive at our campsite which is slap bang on the Atlantic coast. Rather oddly they have taken the decision to site the town some 4 or 5 km inland with a buffer zone of ripe smelling landfill site between the city and our campsite (well at least it would be landfill if they took the time to bury it). Pitch my tent on the top of a small dune looking out over the Atlantic Ocean.

Nouakchott....

17 December 2006

Nouakchott market

The camp site is relatively expensive so we ship up and move in the morning, stopping for a look round Nouakchott on the way. Unfortunately our short cut takes us through the landfill site and across the driving range of the Nouckchott golf club ????? much to the surprise of 4 would be golfers. The road into town proves that it is no longer a dog eat dog world but dog eat donkey as one hungry canine tucks into a donkey that has obviously died under the strain of carrying such heavy loads and has simply been left in the street. Nice.

The town was hastily slung together at independence in 1960. Originally designed for 250,000 people there are now close to 1 million living here many of whom are the nomadic tribesmen who made up 90% of the population back in the early 60’s. There is not a lot to see, the town is generally a sprawl of low rise breeze block buildings on a larger scale than Nouadhibou and thousands of shacks or sheds all of which seem to have a satellite dish or TV aerial. As you might expect, being on the edge of the Sahara, the streets are buried in a grey sand. Many of the vehicles would appear to have been here since independence with a vast majority looking like they have been through a scrap yard at some point in there lives.

The city itself has little to offer to the keen shopper. One road is devoted entirely to mobile phones (over 40 shops in 150 yards). Elsewhere the market place is a mix of shoe and watch salesmen, second hand oil drums, Osama bin Laden wallets, ropes, string and freshly slaughtered goats. I choose to keep my money in my pocket on this occasion.

The midday sun takes it’s toll and we all head for the limited shade offered by the new campsite. Evening meal out with my half chicken being two legs (suspect the full chicken option might have had 4 legs).

18 December 2006

Spend the morning in Nouakchott, sorting laundry and dropping some people in town while the rest of us try and find a supermarket. With a population nearing 1 million you might think such a large city would have a choice of supermarkets but it takes us half an hour to find anywhere and even then it is microscopic compared with your average UK supermarket (more on a par with a large corner shop). Still, it sells Brie and decent baguettes and with a bit of spam thrown in I have a lunch that’s fit for a king. Leave Nouakchott about 1 o’clock passing the goat market. We spend the afternoon driving across the South Western tip of the Sahara where the yellow sand slowly turns a golden orange before giving way to a relatively green patch of Savannah that surrounds Lac d’Aleg, our bush camp for the night and an absolute oasis of bird and plantlife when compared with the barren desert we have been used to for the last week or so. As ever our journey is not without the odd police, camel, cow or goat road block. Camel stew and dumplings for tea….you can tell I am not on cooking duties…..

19 December 2006

A day on the open road…. We are trying to minimise the number of bush camps we have to do, so are trying to cover as much ground as possible and get across the Mauritania/Mali border by 20 or 21 December. With Christmas looming we need to get to Bamako (the Capital of Mali) in time to get Visas for Burkina Faso and do the Dogon valley trek. Anyway that’s for later in the week. We manage to cover 450km travelling from the Savannah type plains of Mauritania up into the Massif de l’Assaba (range of hills in South Western Mauritania). The landscape is dotted with rocky escarpments and as we climb into the hills we can see for miles across the plains below. We stop in one of the larger villages to pick up water etc and the truck is quickly surrounded with smiling children running to greet us. The welcome is fantastic after some of the rather grumpy encounters we experienced in Morocco.

At about 5 o’clock we pull off the road and drive over sand looking for a bush camp for the night in the shelter of a large sandstone escarpment. Unfortunately the depth of sand sees the truck get stranded and we are forced to use the sand mats/ladders to give the back wheels some grip and continue our climb. The best bush camp yet, great views from the top of the hills, roaring fire, beef stir fry with prawn crackers, no mosquitoes and a Gin and Tonic to round off the evening. The only slight down side ….. the area is littered with thorny little burrs…..and we are visited in this most remote of landscapes by a van of German travellers looking for a place to camp. They depart as quickly as they arrived but not before stopping to laugh at Alan who is crouched some 400 yards down the hill with only a toilet roll and spade for comfort.

20 December 2006

We are closing in on the Mali border and the roads are relatively good so confidence is high and we get a lie in till 8. Breakfast is interrupted slightly by a herd of cows being driven past the campsite by a rather bewildered looking herdsman. Not sure he is used to the sight of a big green truck and 5 foreigners on his patch first thing in the morning. With food and water running low we to stock up as a matter of some priority. Unfortunately, the ramshackle assortment of villages on our journey east provides very little. Even the relatively large town of Ayoun el Atrous provides little relief as there is little in the shops apart from tinned tuna and pilchards. Still, the bread is good and after lunch we continue our journey east. Dylan’s reactions are tested to the limits by a suicidal camel which is lying in the middle of the road. Not quite sure how he missed it.

Plans to go and visit Koumbi Saleh (ruins of what used to be the centre of the Ghanaian empire) are abandoned as the road is a dirt track which is not possible or sensible in our green machine (although Brigitte, our German OAP clearly thinks otherwise). Instead we head back on the road east and make camp short of the Mali border. Alan is on cooking duty for the first time and admits that he has never used a tin opener….suspect the plat du jour could be a trifle limited (not to be confused with a limited trifle which would still be beyond his reach) for the next few days.

We have now done over 5000km since the start of our trip. Only another 4000 or so to Cameroon so reassuringly for Dylan the driving should get a little easier from here on in…..

21 December 2006

Also entitled ‘8 hours in a 40 degree blender’

We get an early start as we want to get to the Mali border as soon as possible. The trip notes from previous tours advise that the border crossing at Nema is a little troublesome with bribes being a pre-requisite if we are to get across. So we follow the notes, and in the absence of anything even resembling a road, head south on a series of dirt tracks with the aim of cutting the corner and reaching the border at Adel Bagrou. The track is anything but smooth. For the next 8 hours we are in the back of a truck doing an average speed of 25km an hour. We drive over a range of terrain, from what looks like volcanic rock to open savannah, ploughed fields and open scrub. It is very difficult to describe exactly what the journey was like but imagine a cycling 180 km over cobbles without a bicycle seat and you may be getting close. Being sat at the back the vibration is such that the back of your eyes hurt as your brain is constantly rattled around your cranium. Every minute or so the truck lurches from one side to another sending cool boxes, books and people across the truck. We are all regularly thrown from our seats and Michelle even manages a full 360 degree turn while in mid air above the back seat. By the time we reach the border town we are all completely exhausted and covered in bruises, scratches and dust. All of us admit that it was the most amazing and painful journey of our lives. Still the journey is not over. Adel Bagrou is an incredible place. We arrive in the centre of a town made up entirely of mud huts. The centre of town is a busy, narrow street that we somehow have to navigate the truck through. Various bread and fruit stalls are clearly under threat with the truck close to wiping out the livelihoods of half the villages. In anywhere else in the world this would be greeted with howls of derision and a very angry mob of stall holders. However this is Africa and all we see is smiling faces and welcoming waves as people clear a path for us to get through. At the end of the road we have to negotiate a sharp right hand turn and an entire bread stall and accompanying donkeys are moved so we can squeeze round, missing the corner of the house by a matter of centimetres. The actual border post is slightly more relaxed than the formalised con trickery of Morocco. A small hut houses a smiling border guard who checks our documents while we grab lunch or play football with the local children. We are quickly on our way to Nara on the Mali side of the border but first have to negotiate the remaining 46km of our journey over the same terrain as the first 140km. On arrival at the Mali customs post (a straw lean-to with a bed and a kerosene lamp) a rather flustered looking guard is raised from his slumber running after the truck asking to see our documents. Separate documents are needed for the truck and while both these are organised we see what can only be described as the world’s first group mirage. On the border with little or nothing else around is a campsite selling cold beer. In a scene similar to Ice Cold in Alex we leave Stuart to organise passports and paperwork for the truck while we all get a well earned drink. I doubt the campsite has seen anything quite like it. The entire place is little more than a mud enclosure with a straw roof covering the bar area. The owner, Miriam, is incredibly helpful and we somehow manage to squeeze tents and trucks into the space next to the bar. The toilet is a hole in the ground surrounded by a 6ft mud wall, the shower is a similar arrangement with a great view of the bar area some 5 yards away. With no running water available showers are taken using a bucket. While it might normally be tempting to pass up the opportunity to stand naked washing in a bucket of cold water while being heckled from the bar there is very little choice and after 4 days bush camping we all certainly need it! Our ability to concentrate on the serious issue of quenching thirsts is somewhat distracted by the owners daughter, Aouita aged about 4, who wants to pull faces and torment each and every one of the group. Dave decides to teach her how to Sumo wrestle doing the full routine including sand throwing etc. She takes to it very quickly but the competition is slightly one sided as she is giving away about 15 stones.

Two chickens are despatched and at 10 o’clock with the majority of the group the worse for wear (not me of course – strictly Tea Total) Miriam produces chicken, egg and chips and goat stew for us all. A fantastic effort being made in a pot on a coal fire set on the floor and with the added bonus that the cockerel slaughtered will not be on hand to disturb our sleep first thing in the morning.

A tight squeeze, football on the border and Aouita

22 December 2006

Perhaps dog stew would have been a better idea. The campsite dog wakes us all at 6 in the morning barking it’s head off. Still we all have to be up and on the road and we leave at 7 heading south to the Capital Bamako. The road takes us through a series of mud villages where locals pump water from wells or herd cattle, goats etc. Everyone we pass, whatever their age, greets us with a smile and a wave and this, together with a lush green of the countryside, is a wonderful welcome to Mali. Unfortunately progress is slow as abut 100km of the journey is over a rutted red dirt road, the dust from which invades the truck. Those sat at the back get the worst of it and by the time we stop for lunch Alan looks like an Oompa Loompa from Willy Wonka with a bright orange face. I myself look like I have been the victim of some freak fake tan accident. We arrive in Bamako at 4 crossing the stunning Niger river – it seems strange to see such an expanse of water after the Sahara and luckily we get to see it three times as the campsite we planned to use is closed so we criss cross the river in search of a substitute. After dismissing the option of the Lebanese mission we find a campsite used by other overland companies which is right on the river and provides relative luxuries in the opportunity of an upgrade to a single room and a bar. I take advantage of both! Air conditioning……aaaahhhhh!

The River Niger (early a.m)

Marrakesh to Laayoune

9 December 2006

Right, where were we? Oh yes, fit and well and off to Marrakesh! I have not bothered with the usual tanneries, mosques etc. as having lost a day yesterday I want to concentrate on the main attraction – Djemma El-Fna, which the Lonely Planet guide describes as ‘the soul of Marrakesh – a huge atmospheric square in the heart of the Medina and the backdrop for one of the world’s greatest nightly spectacles’. The best way I can think of describing it is like a medieval Covent Garden on a vast scale – think times 50 and you may be close. On one side of the square there are a hundred or so open air food stalls selling everything from Gin Seng tea and orange juice to kebabs, chips and cow pancreas (Tom’s choice for tea!).

Djemma El-Fna

Around the outside of the square is an array of typical Moroccan stalls selling carpets, carvings, leather etc. but it is really the rest of the square that is the real draw. Circles of men gather round small bands playing a range of music or performing magical or acrobatic feats. Elsewhere, hooded men sit huddled over their wares which can range from dried and stuffed chameleon skins, second hand false and real teeth, herbs, spices, dried fruit etc. Herbalists sit poised to prescribe a range of dangerous looking potions for anything that may, or may not ail you. Add to this a liberal sprinkling of snake charmers, fortune tellers, hustlers and benign lunatics and you can start to get a gist of what the square offers. You really could spend a lot of time here. An absolutely mind boggling place. Oh I nearly forgot, it’s the Marrakesh film festival so the Witches of Eastwick is showing on a huge screen at one side of the square….this in itself gathers a crowd of probably 1000+. I mentioned earlier in my blog that some 90% of visitors to Marrakesh don’t come back. I really fail to see why. The square is worth the air fare alone.

Alfresco dining Marrakesh style ....

Head home about 9, cold and raining!

10 December 2006

Leave Marrakesh at 9 and slowly make our way down the coast to Essaouira (Esa-weera). Cold and very windy and feels like a typical British seaside resort (at least weather wise). It’s a very quiet place after Marrakesh and with a population of only 43,000 is a nice change. The place is a haven for wind surfers and it is easy to see why with the Atlantic waves relentlessly pounding the 10 km beach. A relaxed mooch round the old town which is a quaint mix of Berber, French and Portuguese architecture. Burgers (home made) and ale for tea!

Essaouira .....

11 December 2006

Head south to Agadir. Much more arid, with the landscape a mixture of scrub, cactus and acacia. Just discovered that goats climb trees. Seen one acacia with 5 or 6 goats sat at the top! How on earth they manage that with hooves is beyond me! The mountain roads that cut across the southern tips of the High and Anti Atlas ranges provide the odd glimpse of the Atlantic as well as 1 or 2 deep ravines with a coach at the bottom serving as a useful reminder how badly things can go if you don’t have Dylan at the wheel!

We stop to pick up provisions at the Hyper Marche in Agadir. Not the most architecturally pleasing of places since it was completely flattened in 1960 by an earthquake which claimed the lives of 15,000 people. So severe was the destruction that the decision was taken to bury everything (bodies included) and start again.

The afternoon sees us run out of diesel – not ideal as we have to sort the siphoning out again and jack the cab front forward to pump it through and get the engine started. This takes almost an hour while two lone, hooded elderly Berber men sit outside their remote shacks taking it all in. Luckily, thanks to Robin’s knowledge of engines, we get back on the road and continue our journey south.

After almost a full day on the road, we set up bush camp; our first of at least 3 nights as we are still more than 1600 km from our next main target, the Mauritanian border. A couple of beers round the campfire with Cindy doing a hour or so on the guitar covering everything from Eels and Sheryl Crow to Johnny Cash and AC/DC; even throwing in a couple of tracks of her own. Eventually call a halt at 9.30 as we are at 1700 feet and the temperature is dropping rapidly. The only problem with bush camping is that facilities are limited to a shovel and a jerry can of water! The timing of one’s dumps becomes crucial from here on in!

12 December 2006

Wake early as Brigitte is crashing round at 6 setting up breakfast so I dig myself out of bed and stick the kettle on (2 pans of water) before realising just how early it is as we are not due to break camp till 8. Cold mineral water shower – relatively expensive but worthwhile. Sunrise over the fringes of the Sahara makes everything worthwhile and luckily there is still some heat in the campfire to counter the single figure temperatures. Back on the road south after a few misleading signposts!

Breakfast in the desert....

Witness a great gerbil fight while stopped at the provincial border by the Moroccan Gendarmes. Rodent boxing at it’s finest. No holds barred! The landscape switches from scrub to the classic desert stereotype of erg (dunes) and then back to scrub as far as the eye can see. The only change being the view of the Atlantic coast and a couple of shipwrecks.

Our original plan to reach Laayoune by nightfall changes as various road blocks and a stop for lunch delay our progress. We stop at 5 to set up bush camp in the desert 20km short of Laayoune. My turn to cook so it’s bangers, mash, gravy and sweetcorn for 15. The 15 becomes 17 as a Berber man and his son, Mohammed and Ali, appear from nowhere with firewood and we invite them to stay for tea. Conversation is a tad limited as they don’t speak any French and our Berber is none existant. Manage not to poison anyone and with a little assistance the meal is a huge success. The evening ends round the campfire with the usual songs and a rousing rendition of Two Little Boys! Magic!

Fez to Marrakech

2 December 2006

A lie in till 8, absolute luxury! Quick trip to Internet Café and then into Fez for lunch and a walk round the Medina (Fez old town – 9400 twisting alleys and 350 mosques crammed into the walled city). Very different in daylight but still get lost time and again. We are taken to see one of the tanneries…. A steep climb up a winding staircase leads onto a rooftop and a view that almost feels biblical. The stench is incredible because much of the process uses animal excrement and body parts (by the vat full). We are all given a sprig of mint to counter the urge to wretch (and we came on a good day as it is relatively cool). Also taken for a view of the city (another staircase climb) but well worth it for the view. Starts to pour down so head off back to the campsite for dinner and a few drinks in the bar which is packed as there is a Moroccan band on. Great atmosphere and reassured that an entire nation can have as little rhythm as I have!

Fez

3 December 2006

Wake with a bladder the size of Barbados and end up getting up relatively early to help set breakfast up. A bit of a bombshell at breakfast as Dylan gets up to a note from Owen (our so called team leader) to say that he has left for London (various excuses in his note but the fact he has not had the backbone to let anyone know face to face speaks volumes). Luckily, we have plenty of people left on the trip who have been here before and, to be quite honest, possibly know more about travel in this part of the world than Owen did. Really galvanised the group who all took it in their stride, including Dylan who, as driver, has really been left in the lurch. Anyway, Overland Club are trying to find a replacement for Owen and in the meantime someone will help Dylan with navigation, organising Visas etc. Think we are all relishing the challenge which says a lot about the group. I am now tasked with sleeping on the truck at night, not a bad role as the bed is very comfy and I don’t have to set a tent up every night.

4 December 2006

We have a new man on the way. Stewart or Stuart, who wanted to lead this trip in the first place and is currently in Nairobi will fly to Casablanca via Dubai (slightly long way round) meeting us in Rabat on Wednesday (Monday today). Set off early for the Roman ruins at Volubilis, the

largest in Morocco. After travelling south for an hour we realise we are heading the wrong way and eventually head east reaching our destination just before lunch. Impressive ruins but not Fountains Abbey or Angkor Wat. Still it’s sunny and life is good. Four hour drive to Rabat, Morocco’s capital where, after a failed attempt to set up bush camp in the sand dunes of the Atlantic coastline we decide to head into town and use the camp site. Unfortunately I leave my wash bag and towel on the spare wheel after reorganising my locker. Miraculously my washbag is still there but the towel has long gone on the journey back into Rabat…… grrrr! Here in Rabat till Wednesday or Thursday as we have to get visas for Mali (get the Mauritania ones at the border).

Observations of Morocco so far…..

Possibly more donkeys than humans

Moroccans don’t yawn

You can buy a camel’s head for 5 Euros (not sure what you then do with it but it may be an idea for the Secret Santa as the financial limit is, rather coincidentally, 5 Euros)

Favourite attire is a Jabbala (pointy hooded cloak) as worn by the Sandmen and Alec Guinness as Obi Wan Kenobi in Star Wars

They like their flags

The King is a keen surfer and wears shades on all his photos

Only 10% of the people who visit Marrakesh ever choose to come back.

5 December 2006

A Grande taxi into Rabat (large clapped out Mercedes), a quick haircut from Halibdah, a geography and economics student from Marrakesh – a bargain at 30 Dirham (£1.80 ish). Much wider lanes than the hectic Medina of Fez and a lot more relaxed. Tour of the Casbah (walled residential area of the city) with great views of the Atlantic coastline. Trip to hypermarket for a football, bits and pieces for tea and to stock up on beer as it’s pretty much dry from here to Mali (2-3 weeks, several thousand kilometres and the Sahara desert).

The group has been split into 4 groups – Cooks, cooks helpers, cleaning and security. As team B, Linda, Cindy and I have been cooks helpers for the first week which involves getting up and helping with Breakfast (early starts as it takes ages to set up gas bottles, tables, various washing and disinfecting bowls, boiling water for flasks) and helping with Dinner (tea for us northern types). Anyway today is our last day as helpers as tomorrow we go onto cooking duties. Slightly daunted by the idea of cooking for 15 on a camp fire stove but luckily my incompetence was identified when the groups were organised and Cindy and Linda are both confident and capable.

6 December 2006

Dylan is taking the truck to Casablanca airport to pick or new team leader up so some of us have blagged a lift (not originally on the itinerary). Poured down in the night much to Alan’s surprise as he left his tent open and woke up in a small lake!

Casablanca the most western city in Morocco and the biggest. Not a great deal to see apart from the now standard Medina and the Grand Mosque (the second or third largest place of worship in the world depending which version of the Lonely Planet guide you read)^.

^{Costing $800 million dollars it was built 10 years ago and holds 25,000 and is most notable for the 200 metre minaret. Quite impressive really but the cost is pretty offensive when you see the conditions that the vast majority of the city live in. Back to Rabat on a train that smells of camels. The new man Stuart has arrived. Mid 40s from Melbourne so all cricket conversations are banned. Seems very well travelled and keen, which is perhaps the greatest attribute after Owen who quite clearly did not want to be here.}

7 December 2006

Up early to collect Visas form Mali Embassy…. Usual scenario with African embassies. You get there early and then sit around all day waiting for them to write a couple of words and stamp your passport. This time is put to good use though with Dylan, Robin and I trying to siphon diesel from the 600 litre reserve tank into the tank the truck runs off. Nothing like the taste of diesel in the morning….still nicer than petrol though (previous rather unpleasant experience from Tembe in South Africa). The Embassy fails in it’s commitment to complete the visas before 12 and with the discovery that we can get Mauratanian visas in Casablanca for 300 dirham (30 Euros) less than at the border. Despite having only just arrived, Stuart kindly agrees to stay behind and organise everything with the Mali and Mauritania embassies while we head on for Marrakesh. 5 hour drive not made any easier by many of the crew dropping like flies with some strange D & V bug. By the time we get to Marrakesh most of the van has taken to their beds. Still, it makes cooking easier and the few healthy ones amongst us stay up feeling fairly chuffed that we have not been stricken with the mysterious lurgy.

8 December 2006

Wake at 2 with a desperate need for the toilet and an urge to throw. Rest of the day in my tent. Cindy also been taken ill our so only 4 fit people left. Still, at least I get out of cooking tea. Was going to insert a photo of a tent with my feet sticking out of the bottom but never got round to it....

9 December 2006

Fit and well and off into to Marrakesh…….

Southern Morrocco and the Sahara await so may be a while before the next update.

Marbella to Fez

MARBELLA, SOUTHERN SPAIN

28 Nov 2006

Up relatively early and off in a taxi to the campsite. Met by a few of my fellow travellers and one large green Scania truck with 492,000 kilometres on the clock. This will be our home for the next 3 months as we travel down to Cameroon (we pick up a different truck for the Ethiopia to South Africa leg of the trip).

The truck is pretty basic and consists of lockers for our stuff round the sides and underfloor storage for food etc, fairly large windows and 16 coach seats with plenty of leg room and a large seating area at the back, fairly handy for the taller members of the group and for catching up on kip (sure you can all read between the lines on that one). With cool boxes and a freezer we can cope with most eventualities and the recent addition of an amplifier, speakers and a mains supply while on the move means Ipods etc can be played and Cameras, lap tops charged. The only worrying feature is the tin roof which I am sure will be a blessing as we cross the Sahara – Owen (team leader) was there a couple of weeks ago and the temperature was 45 degrees in some parts, that’s 113 in old money…..nice!

15 of us in all for the journey ahead….hopefully I will get them all to write a couple of lines to introduce themselves but for now the list is as follows :

Alan – from London travelling to Cape town

Bridgitte – from Germany, travelling to Mali

Cindy – from Australia travelling to Cameroon

Claudia – from Innsbruck, Austria travelling to Cameroon

Dave – from Edinburgh travelling to Cape town

Francesca – from Italy but living in London travelling to Cape town

John – from the Orkney Isles – travelling to Nairobi

Linda – from New Zealand travelling to Cameroon

Michelle – from Bedford travelling to Cape town

Robin – from Cambridge travelling to Nairobi

Sue - from London travelling to Cape town

Tom – from Newark travelling to Cape town

Owen – team leader from Manchester (to Cameroon)

Dylan – driver, mechanic, handyman etc. from Llanelli (to Cameroon)

Really good group, nice balance of ages, backgrounds etc. Had a meal together on the first night and ended up in the bar until 1 which made yesterday quite a long day.

MARBELLA AND GIBRALTAR

29 November 2006

Day one of the journey and we travel down to Gibraltar, quick wizz round the town, a trip on an open top bus and a cable car to the top of the rock to witness John getting mugged by a few apes who ripped his carrier bag apart and ran off with his biscuits and crisps. Stunning views across to Africa and round the coast.

Back to camp after eventually managing to round everyone up (the campsite we had intended to meet at was closed) for Spag Bol and a relatively early night. 1^st night of a potential 182 in a tent…..lordy!

CROSSING THE MED, CUETA AND MOROCCO

30 November 2006

Down to Algeciras for the crossing to Ceuta (Spanish enclave in North Africa). Sat on the ferry trying to make sense of Spanish TV. It would appear that the Price is Right has gone global! Morocco in time for tea and Casbahs.

Stayed at the Al Boustna camp site on the Mediterranean coast. Beer, stew and bed! Rang old Moony….40 this very day and still able to get up the stairs by himself. Happy Birthday Harvey!

1 December 2006

8 in the morning, had breakfast and on the way to Chefchaouen - literal translation is look at the peaks. Famous for lots of blue and white houses in the hills. Good news is the speakers are working and the Ipod is on. No sign of Rock the Casbah yet but Billy Bragg’s Saturday Boy is playing as we arrive much to the bemusement of my fellow travellers!

Chefchaouen is an amazing little place. Dropped onto the side of the Rif mountains it is a labyrinth of streets leading up to the old Mosque. Locals all very friendly and fascinated by the arrival of a huge green truck. Steep hill walk through the maze of shops and houses rewarded with a great view of the town and the Casbah below. Got caught by Abdul the carpet salesman who tried to sell me a carpet for 200 Euros and insisted showing me his book of glowing recommendations written by previous customers, including one by the Queen who, having bought loads of his carpets on previous visits, had done a sketch of herself in biro as a thank you??? Great patisserie, Danish, Croissant, two samosas (not sure what the contents were) and a vanilla slice….

On arrival back at the truck Owen and Dylan are busy repairing the wing mirror and indicator after a not so near miss with a bus. Set off on the road for Fez….200km, 4 to 5 hours!!

Arrive in Fez and after pitching tent for the next 3 nights (so nice to set up camp for a few days) 5 of us head off into Fez. Scary taxi ride in a clapped out Fiat Panda with Francesca (4 ft ten inches) blagging the front seat…..entertaining to say the least. Spent an hour or so walking through the Medina…..a bit like the labyrinth of Chefchaouen but on a much larger scale. Round every twist and turn is a warren of side alleys, bizarres selling everying from dates and spices to knock off CDs. Amazing place which really invades the senses. Suspect it has changed very little since the 8^th or 9^th century. Really feels like we have arrived. Fantastic day, topped off by Cindy singing camp fire songs and playing the guitar (Michelle Shocked and Paul Weller – the girl is clearly blessed)….. if only we had a camp fire….it’s freezing!

PS Not easy posting a blog or photos when the keyboqrd is Arabic and the screen instructions French......hi to all!!! Internet access supposed to be much easier than we first thought so plenty more to follow. A few more replies would be nice!