Flying Snakes and the kindness of strangers...

Edventure · May 13, 2009

I had a fairly madcap idea to ride my bike solo down to Nigeria. I was born in Port Harcourt nearly 50 years ago and as it’s my birthday in June I thought I would go and see the place of my birth 50 years.

I had a few weeks of frantic activity, kind of planning but really just buying more kit to overload the bike with. I have a 1200 GSA.

I set off on the 3rd of May took the ferry down to Santander then blasted down through Spain.

After a fairly uneventful crossing I spent the night in Tetouan, half an hour south of Ceuta. I started the next morning heading for Casablanca, the main road out of Tetouan towards Tangier was fairly interesting, beautiful countryside but major parts of it were under construction and that gave me my first real taste of Moroccan driving. Might is right! If you’re bigger then you can just barge past. That’s all well and good but I’m on a bike. I had a few interesting moments diving into the verges!

Edventure · May 13, 2009

Flying snakes and the kindness of strangers...

Picked up the Toll road to Casablanca, great tarmac so was able to make good speed. There I was idly cruising and thinking of nothing in particular when I saw something wriggling across the road. Aha, a snake, I think. With that the van in front runs over said snake and before I know it, the van’s back wheels have flicked up the snake and it’s winging its way to me at head height! The first instinct was to swerve and duck at the same time, an interesting manoeuvre at 90 mph. I managed to get my heartrate back to normal within a couple of miles!

All’s well and I carry on along the Toll road till it diverts to Kenitra. At this point it’s one almighty traffic jam, nothing’s going anywhere fast at all, the temperature has reached 39 deg, I don’t like it and the bike doesn’t either. The oil warning light comes on, gauge is showing the top of its range so I pull over and turn it off to cool down. There I am sitting under a tree on the pavement and I get called over by a young lad who is in the office opposite. They invite me into the air-conditioned office and give me cold drinks while I attempt to converse in my crap French, that is until we all agree that speaking English is slightly less embarrassing for all concerned. I am touched by their kindness.

Onto Casablanca. Arrive in rush-hour, made marginally worse by the fact that I have no idea at all where I’m going. A Honda Varadero pulls up and the rider asks if I’m lost. Yes, I reply in my crap French, again a silent mutual agreement is made to speak English to save the French language from my mutilation. He asks if I need a hotel, I think, here comes a scam but instead he recommends the Ibis as it’s quite cheap. He starts pointing it out on my map but then figures quite rightly it’s going to be easier to show me. Hicham, as he turns out to be, is a top bloke, not only does he take me to the hotel but he invites out for dinner that night and refuses to let me to buy the meal. I pondered over this later that night. Would you do the same in the UK if confronted with a lost foreigner?

Edventure · May 13, 2009

The world falls out of my bottom!

Casablanca to Tarhazoute. Fabulous road winding down the coast overlooking deserted beaches, through mountains and groves of Argan trees. The countryside is becoming much more arid as I head further south.
I stop for lunch at the filthiest café in the world. Just think of the toilet scene in Trainspotting and transpose that to a Moroccan café. It was kind of a butchers shop and café combined. Fly blown sheep and cow carcasses hanging up and a chap serving tea and food next door. I was starving and figured if the locals could eat there then so could I. I was partly right and that evening I paid in full for my folly.
Tarhazoute was a bit of a dump but I figured it preferable to staying in Agadir with the tourist hordes.

Edventure · May 13, 2009

Tea will get you anywhere.....

Further south to Laayoune.

The road is incredibly scenic and the transformation from fairly arid countryside to desert is quite startling.

Going through the small town of Guelmim I am struggling to find the right road when an old boy of a moped pulls up and asks me in perfect English if he can help. I then follow him on the right road. What follows has had me in stitches for the last couple of days… Abdul, my guide introduces me to Mohammed, his Mauritanian mate who is a car trader. For car trader read trader in stolen cars which then get driven down to Nouakchott and sold. Mohammed tells me the border crossing to Mauritania can be tricky but there is a good way to get through…Cue the Tea. They tell me tea is extremely expensive in Mauritania so if I take some tea to give to the border guards I will sail through. Strangely enough there was a shop selling tea just across the road! Well, I though it sounded plausible enough until I ended up buying 3 kilos of tea (€40). At this point I’m starting to feel like a mug and it’s not as if I had any spare space on the bike to begin with and now I have to stash 3kgs of tea. More of this later…

Edventure · May 13, 2009

Western Sahara

Close to Laayoune the first sand dunes appear and sand starts getting blown across the road. This caused me a few bum clenching moments! Imagine the scene if you will; heavily laden GS, off road chicken, sand, bends – not good!

There were numerous police checkpoints along the way, passport out etc. However most of the gendarmes just wanted a chat. How far was I going? Nigeria. What! Are you mad?!! By the time we had played this charade 20 times I started to think perhaps they know something I don’t and I am mad.

There isn’t a huge amount to Laayoune, a dusty town that has a load of new houses being built. I arrive just after dark and start looking for a hotel. I find a tired old place with a stack of UN 4wds outside. In the morning I end up chatting with a bunch of UN diplomats from Togo, Tanzania, Croatia and Ghana. The verdict is unanimous. You are riding THAT to Nigeria on your own?!! You must be mad!!
Sanity no longer in question I set off through the desert again.

Edventure · May 13, 2009

Dahkla

The road to Dahkla is long and featureless, just desert either side though you do come close to the sea for long stretches. It looks stunning, white sand, blue blue sea and no people.
Dahkla itself is on a long peninsula, it’s also popular with Kite surfers and windsufers, mostly French. There isn’t much going on in the town itself so I settled for a nice hotel, the Calipau Sahara.
The next morning it’s the push for the Mauritanian border. Will the tea see me through?

Edventure · May 13, 2009

The road to hell!!!

The border post itself is pretty desolate. I arrive, wait for paperwork to be completed then wait some more for good measure. I have a chat with and English chap, Colin, who lives in Dahkla, he tells me to watch out for the sand traps on the crossing and try and follow a car. I then get waved through into no man’s land.

Oh my God! There is no road! Just 3 Kms of desert, sand and rocks. It takes me all of 4 minutes to get stuck in deep sand and fall off. The bike must weigh close to 300kgs, I manage to dig it out and start again. I fall off again. By this time I’m sweating like a rapist in the 40 degree heat and it’s all I can do to get the bike upright. I went on the BMW Offroad course two weeks ago and I’m desperately trying to remember what to do. I bounce from rock to rock trying to keep out of the sand and eventually make to the Mauritanian side. I have a Papal moment and fall down and kiss the tarmac.

Now for the formalities. The first kiosk is the Police, I hand over my passport, fill in a fiche, so far so good. No need for the tea! Next stop is the immigration, they ask me for €20, with a flourish I whip out a kilo of tea. They look at me blankly, Non, €20. Ok, I hand over the cash and put the tea back in my rucksack. The next hut is customs, I proffer the tea again, I’m met with blank looks again. Bugger! I’ve been had with this bloody tea. I buy insurance and am on my way, still carrying 3Kgs of tea!

david a hall · May 13, 2009

To be continued i very much hope.

Mandylicious · May 13, 2009

Great so far, looking forward to more :thumb2

Mr K · May 13, 2009

Thanks Ed' I like your writing style...

:beerjug:

Edventure · May 13, 2009

Nouadhibou

My first night in Mauritania is spent at Camping Abba in Nouadibhou. Avoid this place like the plague. The Lonely planet guide obviously reviewed the place last century. I had one of the better rooms but I still wouldn’t let my dog sleep there.

MMC · May 13, 2009

Splendid! More! More! :thumb2

Edventure · May 13, 2009

Running on empty...

It’s approximately 460 kms from Nouadibhou to Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania. I set off early to try and avoid the heat. In my haste to get away I obviously leave part of my brain behind, the part that says fill up with petrol before you go anywhere….

After about 70 kms I get stopped at a police checkpoint and do the usual formalities. At this point I notice a fuel station, I go over to fill up but there is no petrol at the pump, instead they have petrol in 20 litre plastic cans. I poo poo the idea of filling my nice shiny bike from a dodgy can and plan instead to go onto to the next filling station which is midway between Nouadihbou and Nouakchott.

2 hours later, it’s 41 degrees and I arrive at the petrol station. As I park the bike a young lad tells me “rien d’essence” No petrol. What!! My computer is telling me I have 79 miles of fuel left, Nouakchott is 235Kms away, Nouadibhou is 235Kms back. I’m in the crap! I sit in the shade and try and work out what to do. I mentally kick myself for both not filling with fuel first thing and also being too precious to fill my bike out of a dodgy can.

A couple of Austrian guys arrive in a beat up Merc, they don’t have any petrol but they agree to follow me back towards Nouadibhou in case I run out. This felt like the longest drive of my life. I finally pulled into the fuel station running on fumes, gratefully filled up out of the dodgy can and vowed never to do this again!

bobsayshello · May 13, 2009

love it!!

GreatScott · May 13, 2009

.....and ? Don't stop there. I'm enjoying this. Good on you fella

Edventure · May 13, 2009

The road to Nouakchott

So it’s back on the road to Nouakchott. The wind has now picked up and it’s bloody strong. The bike is constantly at an angle trying to fight the wind and now the sand is really getting blown hard across the road. I feel like I’m being sandblasted, my mouth, nose and eyes are getting full of sand and I’m hitting patches of sand in the road which are sending the bike into a weave. I try to figure out whether to slow down or keep going. Stopping isn’t an option, there is no shelter anywhere, it’s baking hot and I need to get to Nouakchott before nightfall. The thought of riding this road at night scares the crap out of me and spurs me on. I reach Nouakchott an hour before dark. The streets of the capital are sand strewn, it’s bloody nervy trying to weave through the chaotic traffic and not get into deep sand. I decide to sod the budget and stay in a decent hotel. Am in need of hot and cold running service tonight!

My plan for tomorrow is to head towards Mali, it should take a couple of days but I have no real idea.

Dahoum · May 13, 2009

Wow

what a fantastic trip :bow

Thanks for the report so far

Were here waiting for the rest :popcorn

EasySushi · May 13, 2009

Nice one mate, keep us posted. A trip of a lifetime indeed....... :JB

See you when you get back

Ty

Tractorpilot · May 13, 2009

like it

:popcorn

More soon please!
:thumb2

TP

ebbo · May 13, 2009

Oooh yes! keep it coming, great read!

Flying Snakes and the kindness of strangers...

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