A lovely ride South through the desert today
Gael warning on the Ivory Coast
- Thread starter Drumacoon Lad.
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We aim to be at that service station in the middle of Mauritania on Friday. My success rate on getting petrol there is 75%
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This was the coffee stop that I rode past[the one with the 2 dogs), but Simon spotted it and saw
it's inner charm. We were ready for a coffee.
it's inner charm. We were ready for a coffee.- Joined
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Before leaving Dakhla, and couple of things to note. As we approached Dakhla we needed petrol and Simon spotted a nice new Shell garage but I pulled into a tatty old garage instead. This garage has been here for ever and a welcome sight to many overland travelers. My first experience wasn't great. On a trip 11 years ago I passed this station as I rode to Dakhla, making a mental note to use it to fill up in the morning. I got up before dawn and pulled into the garage, there were a few others hanging around but no petrol, as the keyholder was still asleep. I asked if there was petrol on the road south and was told there were 3 stations within 70km.
I rode off confidently, the first station had no petrol, the 2nd was closed, but to my great relief the 3rd had petrol. This taught me a valuable lesson about not passing a chance to get petrol while riding in Africa. So, to lay the ghost of that visit years ago, I had to use it this time.
One memorable experience on the hotel in Dakhla was using the lift. It always played music, in fact it always played Louis Armstrong, and he always sang the same phrases from the song 'What a wonderful World. I felt sorry for Mr. Armstrong trapped in that lift for eternity
I rode off confidently, the first station had no petrol, the 2nd was closed, but to my great relief the 3rd had petrol. This taught me a valuable lesson about not passing a chance to get petrol while riding in Africa. So, to lay the ghost of that visit years ago, I had to use it this time.
One memorable experience on the hotel in Dakhla was using the lift. It always played music, in fact it always played Louis Armstrong, and he always sang the same phrases from the song 'What a wonderful World. I felt sorry for Mr. Armstrong trapped in that lift for eternity
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The ride today from Dakhla to Guergarat is through the most isolated stretch along this road. Traffic is light and petrol stations are not frequent. There is one stretch where it's 100 miles between stations. Before that long stretch, we filled our auxiliary tanks for the first time.
The desert here is quite bleak and empty. It has a certain magic however in it's bleakness. When we stopped for coffee, realised we had been having similar thoughts about that it would be like to have a bike failure on this road. It's a scary thought, I for one was reluctant to voice it as we rode along. At home we both live safe predictable lives and experiencing that sense of danger here, in such a beautiful place, is partly why we travel like this.
Some views along the way...including a beautiful isolated beach we passed by.
The desert here is quite bleak and empty. It has a certain magic however in it's bleakness. When we stopped for coffee, realised we had been having similar thoughts about that it would be like to have a bike failure on this road. It's a scary thought, I for one was reluctant to voice it as we rode along. At home we both live safe predictable lives and experiencing that sense of danger here, in such a beautiful place, is partly why we travel like this.
Some views along the way...including a beautiful isolated beach we passed by.
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One of the highlights of today was riding into the tropics. We were watching out for the Tropic of Cancer sign and it always feels exciting passing these signs. The actual sign is covered in stickers testament to many visits by previous travellers.
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This was me trying to be artistic with the bike, the desert and a sliver of the sea beyond.
As we move south we are getting a more West African vibe
One of the great things about overland travel, the gradual change - culturally, climate, landscape, food and people. From leaving the UK it all develops as you go south, no dramatic cultural shock like you get when you fly somewhere exotic.
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After the wonderful ride through the desert yesterday we stayed in a hotel right by the Mauritania border at Guerguerat, called Al Shmokh. It was modern, had basic food and was 200 meters from the border entrance, which was helpful to us today.
Guerguerat is your typical border town. We went for a stroll before settling in for the night and sand and the took in the sights. The sand sweeping along the main, and only road, sum the place up well.
While Simon was chatting to a couple of guys I spotted, Trigger's Moroccan cousin, as he tried to sweep the sand up along the pavement. He began with a broom with a wide head, one half broke off, but he carried on sweeping up manfully.
Just close to our bikes was this scooter frame. It wasn't a runner, but with a bit of TLC, it'd fly through the MOT.
Guerguerat is your typical border town. We went for a stroll before settling in for the night and sand and the took in the sights. The sand sweeping along the main, and only road, sum the place up well.
While Simon was chatting to a couple of guys I spotted, Trigger's Moroccan cousin, as he tried to sweep the sand up along the pavement. He began with a broom with a wide head, one half broke off, but he carried on sweeping up manfully.
Just close to our bikes was this scooter frame. It wasn't a runner, but with a bit of TLC, it'd fly through the MOT.
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With our hotel so close we were able to join the queue for the Mauritanian border before opened, but there were over a dozen vehicles in front. A helpful policeman ushered us up to the front. We had heard worrying stories of long delays on leaving Morocco and exhaustive searches on the Mauritanian side. None of this happened but both sides are confusing, particularly on the Mauritanian side. No-one was unhelpful but it took our full concentration and patience to get into Mauritania in 3 hours 20 minutes.
The other issue with the border is the 5km strip of know-mans-land between the two countries. The surface if this area is a mixture of rocks and sand, but the Moroccans have put a tarmac road over half of it, the Mauritanins, not so. The strip is also rumoured to be mined. The mines are the least of your worry while choosing between rocks and soft sand. This was my 5th crossing.
I had chosen this time to ride mostly on the rocks but at one point my path was blocked by a large truck, so I deferred to him and went for the sand. The sand was so deep and soft, my bike decided to take a rest in it. Thankfully, a local guy stopped his car and helped me get it upright, also with Simon's help. No damage done to bike or rider and the rest of the journey was uneventful.
We have stayed in Nouadhibou as the next ride needs to be done in one shot and we needed to be rested and prepared. It will be 480km and fuel availability will be an issue. This one of the great desert rides, Nouadhibou to Nouakchott and we are both looking forward to it, but with some trepidation.
A photo of the famous ore train that runs from Nouadhibou into the desert to collect iron ore. Some people travel in the empty ore buckets, some sand riders, go alongside the train. It has many stories, and was a privilege to see it
The other issue with the border is the 5km strip of know-mans-land between the two countries. The surface if this area is a mixture of rocks and sand, but the Moroccans have put a tarmac road over half of it, the Mauritanins, not so. The strip is also rumoured to be mined. The mines are the least of your worry while choosing between rocks and soft sand. This was my 5th crossing.
I had chosen this time to ride mostly on the rocks but at one point my path was blocked by a large truck, so I deferred to him and went for the sand. The sand was so deep and soft, my bike decided to take a rest in it. Thankfully, a local guy stopped his car and helped me get it upright, also with Simon's help. No damage done to bike or rider and the rest of the journey was uneventful.
We have stayed in Nouadhibou as the next ride needs to be done in one shot and we needed to be rested and prepared. It will be 480km and fuel availability will be an issue. This one of the great desert rides, Nouadhibou to Nouakchott and we are both looking forward to it, but with some trepidation.
A photo of the famous ore train that runs from Nouadhibou into the desert to collect iron ore. Some people travel in the empty ore buckets, some sand riders, go alongside the train. It has many stories, and was a privilege to see it
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Great stuff, I am following along on Google maps.
That bloody crossing across no-mans land Jim!! I still have nightmares about it. Must have dropped the bike close to 20 times in the deep sand. Not helped by a "guide" who on reflection was pointing me to the deeper areas so he could claim his fee......which incidentally, he didn't get!
Once arrived in Nouadhibou, we settled into our rather nice hotel apartment (massive living room, 2 bedrooms, kitchen bathroom…and a very secure underground garage so we can check and prep the bikes. After unpacking and eating a vegetable soup we set off to find the next necessity….money. Fuel has to be paid for in cash so we need red to stock up on Ouguiyas.
After an early failure we settled on Societe Generale o downtown as our best bet. After rejecting Jim’s cards and mine there was a flicker of hope when it recognised my bank Mastercard and allowed me to choose 8,000 Oug…..only to dash my hopes and go ‘Hors de Service’.
I sought help in the branch itself, and to my surprise they did (help). A tall and very dark Mauritanian (there seems to be a mix of Arab and African people here) came with me and he told me that the ATM needed ‘alimentation’ (ie feeding…with notes) but if we could wait 15 minutes it would work. So we sat happily in the AC branch and a little later were rewarded with money from the wall. A kind lady I had been chatting to even offered us her place in the queue for the ATM so Jim could have a second go!
So we were all moneyed up and were able to buy fuel. As Jim may have said we are now each carrying an extra 8 or 10 litres above the 10 litre CRF tank capacity so that we are prepared for the eventuality there is no fuel on the route south.
After an early failure we settled on Societe Generale o downtown as our best bet. After rejecting Jim’s cards and mine there was a flicker of hope when it recognised my bank Mastercard and allowed me to choose 8,000 Oug…..only to dash my hopes and go ‘Hors de Service’.
I sought help in the branch itself, and to my surprise they did (help). A tall and very dark Mauritanian (there seems to be a mix of Arab and African people here) came with me and he told me that the ATM needed ‘alimentation’ (ie feeding…with notes) but if we could wait 15 minutes it would work. So we sat happily in the AC branch and a little later were rewarded with money from the wall. A kind lady I had been chatting to even offered us her place in the queue for the ATM so Jim could have a second go!
So we were all moneyed up and were able to buy fuel. As Jim may have said we are now each carrying an extra 8 or 10 litres above the 10 litre CRF tank capacity so that we are prepared for the eventuality there is no fuel on the route south.
We decided early this morning to have a rest day before the long haul. I decided to take advantage and explore outside Nouadhibou. I headed south for Cap Blanc but was turned back, but consoled myself by visiting the iron ore train line to Atar and then the charmingly named Cansado village (meaning ‘tired’ Spanish 
). A few holiday snaps follow I hope 
). A few holiday snaps follow I hope 
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