Gael Warnings in West Africa.

Crumbles: I did say earlier that Jim is a great guy to travel with. Now you know why!

Did my own tour of Nouakchott whilst the solder master was preparing bundled mentally for the task ahead.

A few snaps:

Rubbish collection
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Local version of a red triangle, in middle of a busy junction:

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At least 2 tyres gone AWOL
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Whilst finding insurance was a nightmare, finding the alternator belt specified by Steptoe was a doddle.

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That's not actually Neil BTW although you can see the resemblance


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After 3 days it was time to leave Nouakchott and head east. Our time here had been partly enforced by my illness and a Mali visa which had an entry date some days ahead. Breakfast was to be served from 6 so we went down around 6.20 but it was still being set up so we put some more things on the bike. It was not yet fully light, but would be by the time we left. We didn't get away as quickly as we might as I was still sluggish after my illness and not operating on all cylinders. We wound our way through the traffic, now used to the fact that cars will appear from odd angles, taxis stop without warning to pick up fares and traffic sometimes stops at red lights. We avoided any collisions also eventually made our way out of town. The road was not wonderful. It was tar mostly but was potholed in places and some of the surfaces were very uneven, so speeds had to be adjusted. As my concentration was not the best I was happy to have Simon lead and he was doing a fine job.

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As we left the hotel the temperature was 26C but we knew it would not remain so low for long. Not far out of the city we has sand on each side of the road, not a barren desert but with trees and later some vegetation. The villages seemed more like central African villages than those in the desert and we saw more cows too, as well as the odd camel and lots of goats.

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We were making steady progress being stopped regularly at checkpoints and handing out finches. It was getting warmer too. The road was undulating as if we were traversing a series of valleys. As you came over the brow of a hill you would see a slope down of maybe half a mile and a similar rise to the next brow. It made for interesting riding.

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There were cars and trucks to overtake and the occasional coach to overtake us. With the slopes in the road overtaking needed some planning, even with the bikes. Typically the traffic was bunched together so you had to overtake a group of cars. Some of these cars also wanted to overtake, so the horn got used a few times to keep them in line. Both our bikes have a loud deep horn which sounds like a much larger vehicle than a bike, so has a deterrent effect.

We were making steady if not fast progress until we came upon some trucks parked on the side of the road. We weren't sure if this was a major checkpoint or other problem but overtook the trucks and got up to a point where the road was blocked with cars and trucks and a few army guys told us to stop. It seemed the road was blocked.

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The scene was disorderly chaos but good humoured. We threaded our way through as best we could on the road. The edge of the road was firm and we could have ridden on it but the trucks had parked in the fringe and beyond that was sand, deep soft sand.

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The locals thought could just head off across the sand like the Dakar Rally riders they thought we were. That was not going to happen, at least on my part. Simon did venture through the sand and did well, making some progress but it was hard on his clutch. I contimued with the road option, occasionally using the fringe. Having wide metal panniers does not make "threading" easy.

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At one point when Simon was ahead he asked over the headset how I was hetting on and I had to report that as well as being in the middle of the cars and trucks I had discovered my front wheel was flat. Understandably I was delighted, this was all I needed. However, my St Christopher badge seems to still work because the truck to my side had an air line and was pumping up the tyres of a car and promptly inflated my tyre too. One problem solved. While all the chaos was happening on the road, in parallel many cars were overtaking the melee by racing across the desert, some more successfully than others, and some got badly stuck. Some deflated their tyres to help in dealing with the sand.

Anyway, back to my predicament, I was in the middle of all these cars, with a now inflated tyre and looking for a gap to continue forward. I headed for the verge again and came across cars blocking my path, the only option was to go back on to the road but I had to wait till the guy to my side replaced his wheel on his car, all done quite calmly. Once the wheel was done I was back on the road for more threading. As I mentioned, everyone was good humoured and helpful. Hardly any honking of horns and people would move it it helped your passage. Simon had come back again to help me make progress and we found a route, quite tight though. I made my way through till I came to a space between a truck wheel and a car. I edged forward, scraping the truck wheel rubber but still would have hit the car. Could the car be moved, well not without a driver. A few people were watching this and a shout went out for the driver to return the car. He came back edged forward and I was through. This allowed us to get up to the source of the problem.

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A truck had overturned sideways spilling its load of bags all over the carriageway, blocking not just the road but the verges too. Either side of the truck was of course sand. So there was nothing for it we have to go through the deep sand, Oh joy, I thought, but probably said something stronger. We looked at both sides and decided the right hand was the best and shortest route and as we were thinking about it, a car attempted that route and got stuck, and dug a bit hole in the sand. It did not seem so attractive now. We looked at the other side again, it was possible but required sweeping around in a big arc on a narrow ledge. We looked again at what the car was doing. He had reversed a little and there may be a way through past him. Then he decided to have another go and I helped to push. He got through. So now it was my turn and I started tentatively, which is not the best in sand, but with help I got through and back on the road past the obstruction. Simon managed more easily with just a short push from me near the end. This had all taken well over an hour and we were exhausted and had only covered about 100km from the hotel. We rode forward to a place we could park and have a drink and ready ourselves for riding further on.

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We did remind ourselves that we have come looking for an adventure and we certainly had one that morning. During all this the heat had crept up to 40C which explained why we were drenched in sweat. I checked my tyre and it seemed to be holding pressure and we headed off. The next town was about 70km away and we planned a stop and review of plans.

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We checked all the service stations in the town and none had petrol in pumps but some had in cans. We decided to carry on to Aleg and review things there. At Aleg we checked in a few petrol stations and were directed one which had petrol in a pump, many had petrol in cans, and we filled up. Then we found a shop selling cold cans and Simon bought me a delightful Fanta. Over the Fanta we enquired about hotels in Aleg and further along the road. We had no confidence that there were any hotels short of Life a, 330km away so decided to stay in Aleg. The first hotel was full but the guy led us by car to the other one which was basic but workable. We unpacked and rested up. Later we got some of our precooked meals-in-bag food out and ate in the courtyard being watched by the cats.

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This was my first sizable meal since being ill and the food was spicy, in retrospect maybe not a good choice. We later went back out to the courtyard in the dark to wonder at the milky way. The hotel owner and family were out too and it was a special moment.


Sadly I was awake at 05.00 feeling unwell, thinking it may be the spicy food I had eaten. We carried on with our plan however and began loading the bikes in the dark. While doing this I became quite weak and sit on the courtyard to recover. It became clear to me that I was still suffering the symptoms of the earlier food poisoning, and was not up to a heavy day today. I didn't fancy staying in this hotel another day and decided it was best I return to Nouackchott and Simon continue east. He protested and wanted to come back to the city with me but I felt confident I could do the 260km OK, starting early in the cool. So with a heavy heart I waved Simon off and finished my packing and started to retrace my steps.

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Leaving just after dawn the temperature was cool for a few hours. I felt OK on the bike and had enough petrol on board, not to need a refill. I kept drinking and continued to feel OK. I had a better view of the road this time too, seeing it from a different angle and not being under too much time pressure, apart from the rising temperature.

Goats, cattle and camels.

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Also a lot of people standing by the side of the road, taken with my helmet camera.
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And this lady who wanted to be noticed.
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Examining the remains of a dead camel.
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And this well balanced lady.
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I looked out for the scene of the lorry chaos and when I found it everything had been cleared up. All went fine until we approached the city. My GPS said I'd be parked up at the hotel by an out 11.15 so was looking forward to that. The first delay was roadworks which had increased since yesterday, probably cos its Monday. This meant an extended spell off-road including some wet sand, delightful. Of course the temperature was now close to 40C. Once clear of the roadworks I noticed a lot more cars around, it was sluggish getting through. Sluggish then became impassable and I was stopped for long periods not able to move. Did I mention the temperature? It was taking 15 minutes to get across a junction. Cars were cutting in and causing gridlock, and there wasn't much humour evident. I had my panniers clipped by a car.

After about an hour of this, when I'd been on the road for about 5 hours, I was still some way from the hotel. I stopped to remove my jacket and in my heat induced confusion, almost rode off without it. Back into the fray. Having had little food it knew this was not good, but abandoning the bike was not possible also. Finally I had to stop again and leave the bike and seek shade by the roadside. I was exhausted and ended up lying on the pavement for a few minutes. A guy near me spoke and I asked him for some cold water. He went to get it from a shop and another guy gave me some too. I drank the shop water and poured the other water over my head and clothes. I carried on doing this for 15 mins or so but still was not up to riding. One of the guys who had given me water, invited me into his air conditioned shop and gave me a chair. It felt good and I began to recover. Then I looked around the shop and saw it was a mobile phone shop. I wondered if they could get my Mauritania sim to work with the internet, which had failed me so far. He was happy to oblige.

As I left, recovered, he gave me simple directions to the hotel, straight on to the 4th light and turn right. Great! I rode off up the road soaking in water but the road was blocked by police, due to some official function and all traffic were directed down a sandy side street. I gritted my teeth and followed the cars and got hit again, this time nearly knocking me over. Anyway 15 minutes later I was parking outside the hotel, not at 11.15 but at 13.30. They had a room and it is very comfortable.

Some other photos from today.
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I've just heard that Simon has arrived safely at his destination but has no Wi-Fi.

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Great write up Jim. Sounds like the adventure is in full flow!

Hydrate much more than you think you should, it's crucial in those temperatures.
 
Firstly, I've heard Simon has arrived safely in Mali.

As I have some time on my hands I've had a chance to reflect on Nouakchott the capital of Mauritania. The last time I passed this way I stayed one night in the Auberge du Sahara with some Irish guys in 5 Land Cruisers that I'd picked up crossing the Sahara, but that's another story. So I hardly left the auberge that time and I didn't get a positive impression of Nouackchott. On the way back north I bypassed it completely only stopping for fuel. The Auberge Sahara of course has the authentic feel of an adventure accommodation and I was bitten by authentic mosquitos while staying there and the electrics were a risk to health.

This time Simon and I we booked in to the Wissal Apartments which are on the side of the Wissal Hotel.
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On arrival we were put into the hotel as they had a 2 single bed room. As I'm not on the bike I thought I'd explain why we stayed here and what is around. Firstly it is about 15-20 mins walk from the Mali embassy.

It has good bike parking with your own security guard, who mostly has his eyes open.
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There are supermarkets, pharmacies and a great French bakery a minute walk away. The pharmacies are well stocked and I was able to replenish my supplies of Imodium, redydration powders etc.
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The cost is about 25 euro per person sharing and can be booked on booking.com. At the moment there is a UNESCO meeting going on here. End of advertisement, but hope the info is useful to some.

On the city, apart from the rush hour traffic which I've already covered, the people are very friendly and helpful. I know Simon has visited some of the markets and even bought a spare alternator belt suitable for his R1150GS. After the crossing of the desert it is good to have a place to relax and chill out.

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Still in Nouakchott I got a bit of energy back today and decided to get a few things done early, before the city heated up. I was keen to get the slow puncture sorted, get access to the internet on my spare phone for the next few days, fuel up, and get some cash out. If possible I'd like to thank again the 2 people who gave me water when I nearly passed out a few days ago. I started by asking the security guard at the hotel where I could get the tyre fixed. He pointed to a place about 200 meters away, so I rode down. It was small tyre place with about 4 lads around. One of them took control and I got the wheel off.
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The behaviour of the tyre was strange. I had it repaired in Marrakech where it needed 2 patches. It seemed fine on the ride down here but it became suddenly flat about 90k after leaving the hotel last time, in the middle of the road block, going to Aleg. Again sitting outside the hotel the last few days it was holding pressure. However with the prospect of heading off into the desert again, I wanted to know what was wrong and have it fixed, so decided to get them to put my new spare tube in the tyre, but also have the old tube tested and repaired, as a spare. I explained what I wanted to the guy doing the work, who seemed quite switched on. He took the tube out and tested for leaks, there were none. There was however a blister on one of the patches from Marrakech, so we suspected this may have been the issue, so we would have that repatched.
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First he tested the new tube which looked OK but was much thinner than the old one.
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Then he installed the new tube in the wheel and I measured the pressure. All was done quite efficiently, except I did not see the patch repair as I was installing the wheel, in hindsight it seemed a bit quick. Everything was done in good humour up to this point. Some of the guys helped me taking on and off the wheel. Asked me where I had been on the bike, how much it was worth etc. However, when I asked how much the guy wanted for the work, it got more interesting. He said a figure which I could not believe and asked him to type the digits on his phone. It was what I thought, 30,000 Ouguiya, about 70 Euros. I laughed, he was having me on but continued to insist. I started to put my gear on and went to my wallet and gave him 2,000, about 4.5 euro. He continued to ask for 30,000 but then reduced it to 20,000. By now I have my helmet on and a few of the other guys are taking an interest. I continued to get ready to leave and he reduced the price to 10,000 but I shook my head and took the bike off it's centre stand. By now the other 3 guys are gathering around and I wondered if it may get awkward. So I told him I was making a last offer and went to my wallet and took out another 1,000. He was still unhappy but I mounted the bike and rode off. I'm still sure it's one of the best mornings he's had in a while and I was glad to get the problem fixed for about 7 euro, but it was a pity it had to end that way. I don't mind bargaining but trying to rip off a traveller is a bit much.

After the tyre place I rode back to the phone shop, where the guy had given me cold water when I had to abandon the bike in the heat of the gridlock a few days ago. They recognised me and made me welcome and I thanked them again for their help. I also asked for their help with my second phone so I can have credit loaded and how to activate it before heading off into the desert again. They explained again what needs to be done. For info, to connect to the phone network here you buy a sim, but to get on th the internet you need to load extra credit, and there is a process for loading the credit. Once it is loaded, there is another process for activating the credit, which is measured in time(day, week or month) of internet access. If you get the right guy, you can get him to get the Mauritel automatic voice to speak in English to you, as they did for me. So now I have some credit loaded and I need to key in some digits tomorrow, for 1 day of internet access, and the same the next day. The guys were very helpful and as I thanked them again one mentioned an interesting fact as we were talking about the heat. He confirmed that it was hot for them too and that a few days ago it had hit 50C, which may go some way to explain my heatstroke outside their shop a few days ago.

The phone shop was located near the market and I left the bike out side the shop, left my helmet and body armour in the shop, and went for a stroll in the market. It really is a market for locals, not for tourists. It sells practical things, footwear, clothes, cooking equipment, sunglasses, watches etc. I had a good walk around but was able to resist the various things on offer.
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The machete was tempting but last time I went into Morocco they asked about knives and also x-rayed the bike.
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It was good to get the vibe of the market though, there was no hassle and I felt very safe. The only people approaching me were wanting to change money and they were not very persistent.
This guy was selling everything from thin thread up to thick rope.
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There were dozens of men operating treadle sewing machines.
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These chewing sticks are popular here, apparently used for dental hygiene.
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On the way back to the bike I passed 2 petrol stations which I visited and found one of them had petrol. I also passed a bank and got money out on my Visa bank card. Worth noting that Visa seems to work everywhere here in Mauritania but Master Card and Maestro hardly work at all. I've not succeeded with my Maestro card as yet, although it has worked in Morocco. So I returned to the bike and said my goodbyes again and went to the petrol station to fill up. I was surprised how much fuel I'd used up fighting my way through the gridlock earlier im the week. When I returned to the hotel I checked the oil, as the poor engine had suffered that hot day too, but the oil was fine. I've put in about 120cc of oil since I left the UK, about 2,700 miles(4,300km) ago and the chain has not needed adjusting. So I should be all set for a departure tomorrow and more on that when I get access to the Wi-Fi again.
Was amused at this windscreen. I wonder if it would pass a UK MOT, marginal I'd say.
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Great report Jim and glad you are in better form. Just a brief update from me as I have patchy internet access here in Kayes, Nali in the midst of a tropical rainstorm and the first internet since we went our separate ways


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When I left Aleg to head East in Mauritania I felt regretful to leave Jim and hoped he would be OK (as I now know he is, albeit after a hard trip back to Nouakchott).

I made food progress East and at 0930 wondered if the heat was less than earlier days.
How wrong I was! The day grew hotter and hotter and with a distressing absence of petrol stations as gasoil (diesel) is the norm here.
About the middle of the day it got so hot that I stopped outside a hut selling stuff and bought cool Fanta. Had a good chat with the lads minding it and then, as they left for the mosque, I Kay down and snoozed until I recovered the strength to ride again.
I may have said that it's very like riding into a hairdryer and you have to drink constantly and seal your body from it.

When I finally found petrol:

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And no, I don't have a little blue man sitting on my saddle!

When I got to Ayoun I tracked down an auberge which was closed...But had an 'annexe' 50! yards away.

I felt the price was excessive and negotiated it down by a third to 10,000 CFA (15€) but still felt badly done by.

But once I had the whole walled courtyard and building to myself I felt better, and making mint tea with my Jetboil improved the evening
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And then I discovered I also had a luxurious sitting room all to myself which made it even better
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But I had a ride across to Mali the next day so had an early night. My negotiations had not yielded breakfast so I knew I needed to buy that before heading south on the goudron (tarmac) which I was assured was very good.

There was no petrol in Ayoun and I had already done 154 miles on that tank but the easy 100 kms to Kobeni and the border should yield essence I had on good authority (at least two of them!).




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I left about 0730 despite my landlord suggesting it was better to wait until 8 because of all the doubtful types who lurked out there.

I stopped at the junction of the road South and bought 2 excellent mini baguettes of bread from a vendor who carried them in a long board.

Keen to make progress, and also being hassled by a local tout, I stuffed the baguettes half into my jacket and set off.

Within 5kns the tarmac disappeared and I was riding pistes which occasionally alternated with strips of tarmac. My petrol calculations began to seem fanciful as I would use much more navigating a rough piste in 3rd gear than my tarmac average using 6th gear and 3000 rpm where I seem to get 50-70 mpg.

At keayI had my 5 litre jerrycan and kits of water for myself. But range anxiety is something you dwell on as you ride along and more so when I got to Kobeni and the promised essence was not there.

So when I got close to the border and found petrol available in jerrycans in the Marche I picked up 5 litres which I used to replenish my own jerrycans which I emptied in the tank - partly because I was not confident of the quality or the quantity measurements if what I was buying.

Awaiting arrival of essence after a phone call
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Entering Mali was very easy albeit with lots of steps (despite having a visa already), some of which I had to go through 80kms later in Nioro.

No one asked about insurance (which I had) or available CFA money (despite some warning us we would be asked).

Already it was beginning to seem different with visible grassland and trees.IMG_8106.JPG

This bike was 'en panne'
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It's water melon season

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When I location room at the centre d'acceuil the concierge gave me a lift in his motorbike up to the town (for which read 'crossroads') to have a bite.

It was a lively place including this young vendor
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I think my bike became the centre of the outdoor/World Cup watching/water melon eating crew yesterday evening
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Great to read the update Simon of your adventurous ride. Sorry not to be with you of course, but I know that ride to Ayoun would have finished me, with how I was feeling. Good that our planning has worked for one of us. Keep taking photos and updating the RR. Ride safe!

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Today started with an omeluand bread at the crossroads. I watched the food vendors start their fires and preparing the meatIMG_8115.JPG

Fortunately my breakfast was. Ot spoilt by foreknowledge of what was about to happen...


A few days earlier the bike had stopped inexplicably...And started off a minute later.

Well, this morning as I set off it died completely with no resurrection. With help I pushed it off the road and into the shade. Then I took off the panniers and other luggage, lifted the saddle and tank and removed the battery. The level inside was very low and I realised my check in Nouakchott had not been thorough enough! The heat had also undoubtedly played a big part.

I started to fill the cells and was delighted to find out my one knowledgeable helper was in fact the battery man whose 'premises' were 10 ft from where I had pushed the bike.

Strategically placed plank to support the tank
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Refilled battery sitting charging
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Like watched pots, so batteries. So I accepted the comfortable reclining seat and the beautifully brewed cup of Malian tea, and had 40 winks while some part of my agnostic brain was hoping the battery would ride on the third day (or preferably a bit sooner!)


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After 90 minutes we put the battery back and after a bit of tinkering the ignition cane in. Wary of disappointment I set off to ride around the block and was delighted to find all was good.

Monsieur Les batteries wasn't saying what I owed him and said it was up to me...But said he was very happy with CFA 2000 (€3) and the London postcard I gave him.

So I rode off gently, well equipped with water in case the problem recurred.

The Malian countryside was delightful along with the sensation of being on a bike with a sorted battery. It was also pleasing to have sorted a problem and to be reminded that most villages in Africa have people who are good at repairing things be cause it is a necessary part of life.

I also had a very full tank of essence so life was good again!

I stopped late morning to have a cold Fanta and eat my baguette whilst some local travellers admired the yellow peril
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These chaps had the good sense to stay inside and chat with me rather than stare at motorcycles and dream

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In the early afternoon I felt I needed to stop and during the mint tea I had made that morning (the British flask tradition lives in even if in the hands of an Irishman).

So I pulled up near a shady roadside tree where the elders sat. I asked if there was space in the shade for me and I was made very welcome and we had a good long chat about Mali, Africa and the rest. The obvious senior chap had travelled widely as a negociant but now settled down as he was old - which turned out to 56! We compared our two white beards and had many laughs. An enjoyable interlude before I climbed back on to brave the heat and head for Kayes. We took a joint picture
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Along with his buddies
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Arrived in Kayes I eventually found a hotel with internet and both a very high price and the lead contender for Arsehole Hotel receptionist of the year!

Admittedly I was a little on the warm side but he was an officious shit. After I decided to pay the price and stay, I had in a couple of occasions to tell him to 'leave me in peace' (polite translation). Unfortunately smartish hotels like bikes well out of the way but I was having none of it as the group was uneven and strewn with rubble.

He had another try later when I was checking the battery connection and I explained that if he wasn't going to help me he could 'ficher moi la paix parce que il me faisait chier et j'en avais marre !'

That seemed to do the trick and I am delighted to report his absence from reception this evening.

Oh and remind me to tell you later about Malian peage rules which are arcane!

But this made the whole day perfect
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First beer since Spain 27 September!


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Brief update from me now in Senegal .

The ride from my battery fuelled incident in Diema to the order of Senegal at Djiboli was a very pleasant one, albeit tinged with anxiety that the battery might quit on me again.

The countryside was fabulous- I feel like the timing was good to arrive here, if too early for the Sahara crossing with its extreme heat in Mauritania.

Leaving Mali evoked only the comment that 'you have only just arrived!' so I promised to come back soon. Like any frontier here it involved multiple visits and stamping and cross checking of forms.

So goodbye Mali and before I o ew it I was over the Senegal river and I to the next wave of bureaucracy...again, friendly and unpushy with no requests for gifts - just lots of different people to visit and of course through the mud
But the bike stayed upright and I was escorted to the Commisariat de Police for another round of form filling.
I was slightly disconcerted to see s young mans arm reach out from the bars of a cell beside the desk where my 'passavant ' was being prepared - but he was soon released to join the other weeping folk who were having a bad day with their papers.

Throughout all of this and the entry to Mali no one asked about the Carte Brune insurance I had purchased at great expense!

Two loads of old iron by the road from the Mali border
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But the real challenge of the day was the next 180kms which was bike swallowing, truck overturning potholed goudron.

I was warned by a few people and spent at least half the time on the pegs like a Dakar rally rider, trying to thread a way through the vestiges of Tarmac.

It was a great day to be on a bike as I could cut through and find a few inches of Tarmac where cars and trucks had to halt and grind through the massive potholes.

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This truck had just overturned. The guys offloading its load got quite excitable about me taking a photo and tried to stop
Me as I passed by. As you can imagine I didn't stop to discuss their tea-leafing!


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While Simon covers the exciting and colourful stuff down south I'll content myself to describe my divergent path.


As left the hotel in Nouakchott for the 2nd time I had to weave a path through the array of Spanish bikes which had just arrived.
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I'd not seen the riders in the evening so was pleased to meet one of them that morning. I had one key question for him, which was, had they got petrol at the Mauritania service station and they had. That sounded promising for my call there today. From this you will have deduced that I'll be heading back north. This was a hard decision to make. I considered the options, one was to follow the road Simon and I had taken, looping around into Mali to allow an easy border crossing into Senegal. Simon was now 5 days ahead so no chance to catch him before he flies back home on Oct 21. Also from Simon's feedback there were some hard riding days which I would find tough, as I was still recovering my strength. The other 2 options were direct border crossings from Mauritania into Senegal, neither were attractive crossings. The Diama crossing has had some bad reports recently of scams to get entry permission for vehicles and the route there can be tricky after rains, and there has been a fair bit of rain recently. The 2nd more direct crossing is Rosso and the access road is good, but that is the only good thing about it. Rosso is the worst border crossing in Africa and I went through it twice 3 years ago. It is corrupt, expensive and the people are very aggressive. I promised myself I would not go through it again in my own, which is why we had planned the Mali route. So my only option is to turn around and retrace my steps. This first day north was also going to be a long tiring day but it just involved riding the bike on a straight quiet road, getting through a border and find a hotel. OK, it's a long straight road across the Sahara, with one fuel station in 500km but I felt confident the pump would have petrol, and that I would be up to the journey.


Although disappointed at having to curtail the trip and not stick to the original shedule, this route will mean I'll have crossed the Sahara twice, this trip, once alone, making 4 crossings in total. The Saharan crossing was one of the high points for me when planning the trip. On the way down it was great to share it with Simon and realise he was as enthusiastic about the beauty and the vastness of what we were riding through. However I was also looking forward to this ride across the desert on my own, which was how I experienced it first. I did wonder if the desert would still have the magic I experienced in 2014 and was not disappointed on the way down, we'd see how it would be on the solo ride north.


The ride out of Nouackchott was fine and the first thing I noticed when I got on the open road was how different the bike felt. The whole front of the bike seemed smoother, much less vibration. This must be down to the fitting of the new tube and I now wished I'd done it earlier. As expected, after taking to the spaish biker, the fuel station between Nouachchott and Nouadhibou had petrol, so my averages at this service station are now 75% with petrol, 25% without petrol.
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I have to admit a small part of me was disappointed they had petrol, as I'd have enjoyed the challenge of getting to the border with my fuel reserves, and be able to dine out on the story of making it, or not. The first half of the journey was cool as I left at 7 but had warmed up by the middle and cooled to about 36C when I got to the border. On the way there were many camels and a little sand and I was keen not to rush past these features of the desert, as I was not sure when I'll be back.
Firstly stopping in the desert on your own is different to being with someone. There is just that moment when you return to the bike hoping it will start.
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I've been passing sand dunes and never stopping, trying to capture them from the road with the camera, so decided to stop and have a closer look, in fact to go play in the sand. Who knows when I'll have the chance again.
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There were quite a few camels this time, much more than I saw in 2014 so here a couple from the crossing north of Mauritania.
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And then this fellow rider.
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The Mauri side of the border with Western Sahara(Morocco) was easy and quick, took less than half an hour. Ome of the officials, some senior guy who we had chatted to on the way south, recognised me and asked where mu friend was. This recognition eased my path a little. Rememnering I was Irish he mentioned Gerry Adams, and referred to him as the Irish Nelsom Mandela. I'll make no political comment here but was happy to nod in agreement if it got me an easier passahe through the border. Then of course there is the no-mans-land.
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It wasn't too much of an issue to navigate the rocks and sand, except when I headed for some gravel which turned out to be soft sand and I was in danger of sinking into it, but kept going and reached the tarmac successfully. The admin on Morocco side was a pain and took ages. Everyone was polite but you have to see lots of people, 12 I believe and of course in the correct order and it is a building site and you have to fit in having the bike x-rayed. What they are going to see inside my metal panniers I can not imagine. Anyway, after about 2 hours I had completed all, apart from seeing the police and customs at the exit gate, which I did and then headed for the petrol station just outside the border. Loud shouts behind, so I stopped and another policeman was following me, he must have stationed himself just outside the gate. He had to see passports and take a fische, give me strength!

Anyway soon I was heading for hotel Barbas which I discovered on my last visit. It is a wonderful cheap place, where you ride your bike into the foyer, rooms cost about £16, they do food, next by a petrol station and are very friendly. What else would need after a long day in the desert, well a beer would be good, but you can't have everything. The next question was, would they have a room, cos I'd not booked, in case I didn't make it. They had, so all was well. I had a coke, ate a pizza and rested well.
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This one's for Edventure, Ed this is the Moroccan side of no-mans-land now. A but different to when you rode it.
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The next dilemma when staying at the Barbas is where to go next. Crossing the Sahara you have to go from place to sleep to place to sleep, unless you want to camp. The nearest option is the camping place Simon and I used on the way down at Dakhla, but it's only 3 hours up the road and is expensive and basic. The next major town Boujdour which does not have any hotels listed, so I aimed to go to Laayone, where there are a number of hotels. The only problem with the Laayone is that it's 750km across the desert, which is about 10 hours of riding. Simon and I worked out, we were doing well, if we could average 80kpm overall, with fuel stops and check points. As I started off one thing in my favour was it was overcast and cool, in fact quite misty. To start with the road was good and I was keeping good speeds. It was very boring though as there wasn't anyone about, not even camels, or I couldn't see them in the haze. I had one visit to a petrol station that didn't have fuel, another where they guy had to be woken up and switch on the generator to power the pumps and lastly a guy who refused to serve me because the pump attendants were having lunch, just what you need when you are in a hurry. This was all eating into my time.

When the sun appeared I noticed I had a riding companion. He's been with me before in Africa and in Iran, early in the morning or just before sunset. Strange I had not seen him when riding with Simon. Good to have him back.
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Then I hit the roadworks just after Dakhla, major roadworks with detours offroad and slow riding, coming down we weren't rushing, so this time the roadworks they seemed worse. I was now getting worried about making Laayone before I got too tired, and a headwind was not helping. I decided to put Boujdour in the GPS and have a look for a hotel. I rode through but didn't see any, and there was only a campsite listed in the GPS. I stopped at a cafe, which had rooms and ordered a coffee. I asked the waitress about the rooms and she shook her head and suggested it was not a good idea. I got on to booking.com to check on the Laayone hotels and now, none were showing rooms. This was not good, I might have to ride on and hope to get a room in Laayone which i did not think was wise, as I was quite tired, so decided to look at the campsite in Boujdour first. It was down by the sea and I asked if they had rooms and they did, simple ones for about £8 and bigger ones for £12. I decided to splash out. So got in a room with 2 beds, no en-suite though, a veranda and the bike parked outside, perfect. I went up to town and bought some water, got money and bread and cooked a meal.
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A nice relaxing evening and I can hear the Atlantic as I write this.

It was a nice relaxing start today with breakfast on the terrace watching the sunrise.
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I had decided on Tan Tan as my likely destination a mere 500km up the road, so was not going to rush away. What a delight it is to have the bike parked outside the door of the room, making loading so much easier. I did have a problem with the bike when I arrived in Boujdour last night when filing up. When I unscrewed the cap of the spare Acerbis tank, the rubber tube connecting it to the main tank split, severing the tube. This was not critical but would limit my range, as the fuel in the auxiliary tank would not feed automatically into the main tank. I had some self amalgamation tape and did a repair that evening and was hoping this should fix it. The tape should form a leakproof seal, even with petrol and be strong enough to hold the tube together. I'd find out today if it works.

On the way out of town I picked up a bread, for less than 10 cents(€) for lunch. Once on the road I had the headwind from the right again making riding hard work. This lasted for a couple of hours but the road was generally good and I was making reasonable progress. The hardest feature of the wind was in overtaking trucks. Approaching a truck I would be leaning into the wind, then as I neared the rear of the truck, the side wind died and the bike had to be upright and as I finished the overtake the wind hit me, harder for a few seconds, so I had to suddenly lean into it, to maintain stability, all good fun!

I had taken trouble to make sure my fisches were correct before leaving and this seemed to be helping me with the many checkpoints. One thing which was not helping was that my entry stamp into Morocco had been done on top of the Mauritanian visa and made it difficult for the checkpoint police to see. Once I knew what they were searching for I would point it out, to speed things up. After a couple of hours the headwind changed to a following side wind which was much better. I was now cruising at a good speed and the road was generally good, but not perfect, as there were occasional bad potholes and I hit two of them, clipping one of them as I tried to avoid it, but no damage done.

At one checkpoint the Gendarme came over to me and said I was Irish before I had a chance to say anything. I confirmed I was and he then asked where my friend was. In had to explain that Simon was in Senegal, that I had got ill etc. So it seems the Gaels made an impression on him too on the way down. With the side wind I mentioned, sand was encroaching on to the road and a couple of times it was quite dangerous.
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Anyway, I got to Tan Tan in one piece and the one hotel in the GPS had a room. I asked how much and the lady quite rightly asked would you like to see the room before she told me the price. I had a look and it was large and ensuite and when i came down she told me it was £16, an excellent result. After resting I had a walk around the town. Just 100 meters from the hotel was a service station with a shop attached, named "Things to buy for cars", so I went in and asked about petrol tubing and am now the proud owner of a meter of plastic tubing. The main activity on a Saturday night in Tan Tan is watching football. I saw Watford beat Arsenal and later Barca draw with Athletico. I asked what was on the menu at the hotel restaurant and ended up talking to the chef. I explained I wanted a simple tagine and explained my food difficulty in Mauritania, so the chef proposed he would send out for some meat and make me a tagine. He did and it was delicious, almost as good as my cooking last night.




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Jim: great account and glad you are finding new and good places to stay as you head North. Stay safe!


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