Desert, Fish & Uno, Mauritania 4th Dec 09

Date: Friday 4th December, 2009 | Country: Mauritania | No Comments »

Reka: If getting into Morocco seemed like a hassle, try getting out of it! We spent about 4 hours between the two borders filling out endless paperwork and convincing numerous officers that we have no guns, alcohol or hidden goodies that they could make use of. The road between Morocco and Mauritania for about 5 km is non-existent and once you get to the Mauritanian border, it is nevertheless impressive. The car in front of us represents the general state of 99% of Mauritanian cars perfectly (yes it has no windows, just bin bags to keep the sand out!).

Top Gear eat your heart out!

Mauritania’s Iron Ore train, if you’re late, don’t worry, you have time to catch it!

Top: Fishermen in Nouadhibou, Bottom left: Local attire, Bottom right: Mohammed

Noel: We found a great camping spot in Nouadhibou which is the first major city 60km from the border.  It had been a long old drive to get there and after all the border police,army and other officials it was nice to sink your feet in some sand, Mauritania has plenty of sand by the way, it’s basically one big desert

We took a walk to a place where we were told we could buy some fish and we found a place where fishermen were pulling in nets of lobsters literally 50m from shore, some were massive and all were being exported.  I spoke to a guy also watching the fishermen and Mohammed told us that Mauritania exports the majority of its fish to Mali, Europe, USA, China and Japan.  He explained that this is a serious problem as the coast is being overfished from many countries and the fishy population could be destroyed in a matter of years if it continues this way.  Mohammed then took us to a local port where many locals came to buy their fish suppers.  It was quite a spectacle and a smell to go with it, we bought a popular fish for a couple of pounds and a few pence to a guy that de-scaled it for us, the fish after frying it for a few minutes with some aubergines was lovely.  The meat was soft and chunky and you knew it was fresh by how good it tasted.

Nouakchott

After Nouadhibou we headed to the capital Nouakchott which in the lonely planet guidebook said ‘a must see place, plenty of things to do, its Mauritania in one city, blah de blah blah blah’, well all I can say is don’t believe the hype, we have both discovered the Lonely planet can be useful at times but so no on others as the reviews of cities can be quite rosy of damning depending on what the travel writer experienced themselves.  After driving through endless desert roads with the odd tent stuck in the middle of nowhere, 300 km later we arrived in Nouakchott.  I am so glad that I was driving a landrover with good suspension as the roads…oh the roads, more like roads that were designed for quadbikes to enjoy, full of sandy holes and mini hills which made driving more like an obstacle course, the trick was to follow the driver in front as they twisted and turned and crossed the wrong side of the road to avoid spending weeks at a mechanic.

Left: The road and plenty of desert Right: Traditional Mauritanian outfits

Intimate camping in Nouakchott

My very first accident (with a stationary post)

We found a nice campsite called Auberge Menata which was literally in the centre of the city, it was a tight squeeze as many overlanders stop off here with their vehicles, we saw an old German fire engine with a family that are travelling through west Africa, many Spanish and French travellers.  We met Mohammed there who is working on a documentary filming the life of Bedouin’s, he gave us a lot of good information about what it is like to live here, this loony scot had lived for a few years in the desert with a camel and a few possessions, he knows everyone there is to know in Nouakchott and knows all the good cheap places to eat.  He took us to a Chinese restaurant which wasn’t that obvious from the outside, there we had our first beer in a longggggggggggg time and it felt good!  I also kicked some guy’s arse at pool there so that was a bonus.  Mohammed showed us a great place to eat Sharwma’s a kind of wrap with mince, potatoes, chillies and mayonnaise, all I can say is..Thanks Mohammed, they were great.  He also took us another day to a small cafe with enough tables to sit 5 or 6 people at a time, they served the most amazing fish and rice dish there, very simple but extremely tasty, if you ever get to Mauritania soon (unlikely I know), look Mohammed up, but make sure you bring him some goodies from home, scottish oats was high on his list of things to have!

Left: Reka and the lady who issues Senegal Visas Right: Mohammed the scot

On our first night here we met Kirk and Dale who we all hit off from the start with as soon as we met them.  These crazy cats are travelling big time…London to Durban, then after a months rest shipping to South America, then upto through North America with a potential end point at Alaska (maybe!), they are planning a couple of years and have started almost the same time as when Reka and I left the uk. It was nice to meet likeminded people that you could relate to and not struggle in conversation due to language constraints.  It wasn’t long before the cards came out and after I cleaned up all the rummy games I was introduced to the painful game of UNO (bloody Italians!).  Never having played this before it was clear that this game is addictive but also leaves bad scars if you happen to sit next to someone that constantly makes you pick up (Reka!).

Reka: Dale, you know it’s not true and I meant every SORRY…Noel: Rubbish

Reka, Moi & Kirk and Dale

What I learnt from the last few days in Mauritania is that the country is a tough place to live but people make a living from whatever they can be it fisherman or working a small stall in a market, It is also full of battered cars that somehow still manage to work, plenty of Mercedes 190’s from the then east Germany that are now used as taxis here.  I also heard a few stories about child abduction for slavery that goes on in certain places here and there are a few people/organisations that are looking to at least prevent this occurring as much as it has been, but as you can imagine, this isn’t always easy, for some it could be a cultural way of life and it can also be dangerous to try and interfere.  There is no infrastructure for tourists to come visit this country but in a way it makes it slighter wilder because of that, its a case of talking and finding the right contacts if you want to eat in the right places and sleep in accommodation that is reasonable.  It’s a massive country but only a few major cities, the rest is one big sandpit with many camels and many nomadic people that live very different lives to what we are used to.

After a couple of days in the capital Reka, Kirk, Dale and I headed off to check out Senegal, we were all heading in the same direction so it made sense to travel together.  Kirk needed to exchange some of his Ugiyas (Mauritanian currency) into West African CFA’s and amazingly we have found that the better rates are found on the streets by street kids rather than currency exchange shops that charge a commission on top.  It is normal to haggle the rate with these street kids, and normally after a lot of oooo’s and no’s, you can normally exchange at the going rate (by the way, Euros are the best currency to bring with you to exchange, dollars and pounds are not demanded).  Oh and a note of advice, each country requires you to have car insurance in-case you get into an accident, if you buy this at the border as we did to get into Mauritania it is only valid for that country for a short period, for a relatively small increase in price, we got insurance which covered our arses for most of west africa for 3 months and you can get that in most large cities.

The road to Diama, check out the fire engine on the left!

There are 2 routes into Senegal, the common border that most people use is called Rosso and many people along the way have told us how bad that border is and could be a painful and potentially expensive one, and the alternative called Diama which is more of a dirt road that is not so well travelled.  We all agreed to try the alternative route.  Although the picture above doesn’t show it, the road in general to the border is pretty awful so only those with good shock absorbers and suspensions need drive that route, it isn’t clearly signposted so you end up asking many people that lead you into all sorts or roads which sometimes are wrong, but eventually you’ll get to the border.

Milly, these shots are just for you

Please note that at after crossing the Mauritanian border and paying the equivalent of £5 to £10 pounds for police and vehicle “tax”, you get to a bridge that is no more than 20 metres in length, there is one old chap there that “requests” you give him £10 for a bridge toll, the funny thing is that not all cars that came through the bridge of doom were being asked to pay the toll, i.e locals seemed to get away with a handshake.  I know it’s only £10, but it goes along way and if someone is taking the mick you don’t just give him what he wants.  We left the vehicles on the bridge and the bridge keeper got so peed off with us he went off in a huff locking the gate!  The Senegal border officials that checked our passports were also after their own ‘Cadeaux’ (presents) and unless I am going to be locked up, I try to avoid giving anything where possible, unfortunately this guy was not having any of it, so Kirk ended up giving him a cap, and I pulled out a crappy t-shirt that we gave to him.  Bridgeman had to be paid and then you are through, bear in mind that each country has it’s own official document that you get when entering their country, this paper is vital when you are stopped by policeman or traffic cops (together with the car insurance and your drivers licence!).

Reka – HUN: Marokkoba bejutni sem volt egyszeru, de a kijutas kb. 4 oran at tartott es vegellathatatlan papirmunkaval. De vegul is atjutottunk Mauritaniaba, amirol igy utolag csak annyit tartok erdemesnek emliteni, hogy eszmeletlen nagy tavolsagok vannak es a ket varos kozotti ut, ami esetenkent kozel 300 km, eletem eddigi legunalmasabb utjainak szamitanak, mert ugyan a sivatag szep es jo, de nem 5-6 oran keresztul.

Igazabol csak a szenegali vizum miatt maradtunk itt 3 napig, mert ugyan az utikonyv szerint EUs allampolgaroknak nem kell vizum, amikor megemlitettem a nagykovet asszonynak (akivel a foto is keszult), akkor kozolte, hogy ez igy van, de Magyarorszag az mas… na erre varjal gombot!

A kempingben (ami a varos kozepen levo haz udvara tulajdonkeppen) megismerkedtunk egy del-afrikai parral, Kirk es Dale, akkikkel aztan egyutt indultunk keltunk at a dijamai hataron Szenegalba…

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