Mauritania to Western Sahara / Morocco

The penultimate blog of the trip as we head to Marrakech tomorrow where my journey ends…

We’ve covered a lot of ground since my last post from Mauritania, through the Western Sahara and now in Morocco. Leaving Mauritania, we drove through a few miles of a true no-mans land with no actual road and an area littered with unexploded land mines and abandoned rusting vehicles before we reached the official Western Sahara border. Controlled by the Moroccans, this was the most officious border we have crossed with the truck even being put through a scanner to check no one was concealed on board. A far cry from the piece of string across a dirt road and the hand written ledgers of earlier border crossings…

The Western Sahara provided us with some beautiful drive days and bush camps. For much of the journey, we followed the coastline with the turquoise blue ocean glistening beneath the jagged cliffs, stopping occasionally to take photos of the views or slow down for camels crossing the road. We stayed one night in a town out on the peninsular called Dakhla which seemed to be a mecca for kite surfers. Hundreds of kite surfers in the bay did look spectacular and so colourful after miles of empty desert landscapes. A highlight of our time in the Western Sahara was staying at a bedouin camp and hiking across the salt pans (which appear like snow), climbing rocky peaks and exploring sand dunes.

Eventually we reached Morocco, although without fanfare as there is no border crossing as such since the Moroccans unofficially control Western Sahara, albeit that this is not recognised internationally. We have visited a number of historic towns in Morocco - Tarfaya, Tafraoute, Tan-tan, Tiznit, Taroudante and are now in Essaouira (pronounced Essa-weera). Lots of exploring the medinas, the old towns contained within the city walls, and wandering through souks. North Africa could not be more different from West Africa. Very easy travelling now as hot water, electricity, wifi, etc are fairly standard. Tafraoute was a beautiful sleepy town in the Anti-Atlas mountains and we did a great day long hike there. Today will be spent exploring Essaouira which is on the coast and is known as the “windy city”. I am being slowly eased back into European climates as the last couple of weeks have been markedly colder as we’ve headed north. The final drive day tomorrow into Marrakech where I will be spending three nights before flying back to the UK!

Senegal to Mauritania

Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania, and perhaps one of the most bizarre and random places I have ever visited - certainly the most dusty and sandy. A city that was born not much more than 50 years ago and set just 5km inland. It doesn’t have the most attractive climate given that 200 days a year, it is subject to a sand storm and the temperature is topping 40 degrees today. A day when one would prefer to be wearing minimal clothing, but given this is the Islamic State of Mauritania, quite a lot of clothing is required so as not to offend. I can’t honestly say that Nouakchott is in any way a beautiful city, but it is still quite exciting to be here. How many people can say they’ve been to Nouakchott. Indeed, who even knew that Nouakchott was the capital of Mauritania? I didn’t, but it might come in useful as a quiz question one day….

Since leaving Dakar a few days ago, we headed into northern Senegal which could not be more different from the southern part. Getting ever closer to the Sahara desert, the land is very dry and barren. Vehicles are replaced by horses and carts which seem to be the transport of choice. Most of the horses are in good condition despite the lack of grass. The Senegalese, for the most part, seem to value their horses and treat them well as it is common to see them resting with their harnesses off and their heads in a nose bag of food. 

Our first night after leaving Dakar took us to the town of Touba where we visited a large mosque. We then headed out of town to find a bush camp for the night. As there were lots of villages and people around, we didn’t find a particularly quiet spot, but despite quite a few people trotting past on horse drawn carts they didn’t seem to be the least bit surprised or bothered by a bunch of white people setting up camp for the night. I’m fairly certain that 20 Africans setting up camp somewhere in the UK without permission would not go down so well!

The next day we had a fairly short drive to the peninsular where we camped by the beach at a great campsite which even had hot showers. You may not think that noteworthy but Dakar was the first hot shower after over two months on the road so a hot shower is still very much a high point for me! Our next stop was the city of Saint Louis which was formerly the capital when Senegal was a French colony. The city is spread over the mainland, an island and the peninsular which are connected by bridges. We arrived at midday and pitched our tents in a sandstorm. Sand is very much the theme of this section of the trip and we are growing accustomed to the fact that our bodies and possessions are permanently covered in a layer of sand. Travelling on the truck in the heat of the day with the windows open is akin to having a hot hairdryer blowing in your face continually. Despite the sand storm, Saint Louis was a very pleasant place to explore with some attractive crumbling buildings, nice restaurants, and lots of fishing boats.

An early start the next morning in preparation for a long day ahead. We needed to cross the border into Mauritania and then get to the capital in daylight hours, so we had a lot of ground to cover. Large parts of Mauritania are very much off limits due to the security situation in this country so camping other than within the grounds of a hotel isn’t really an option. In any case, Mauritania is basically a desert so we would more than likely get stuck in the sand if we tried to drive off the road. To make life a little bit more challenging, we had been unable to obtain Mauritanian visas in Dakar as the Embassy were changing systems and weren’t able to issue them. Getting them at the border would be fine but would inevitably take many hours. Many, many hours….

First challenge was to get stamped out of Senegal and then join the long line of trucks waiting to board the ferry to cross the Senegal river to get to Mauritania. Some palm greasing was required if we were ever going to get on that ferry, especially as it stops for three hours over lunch time. Once we got to the other side, more palm greasing if we were going to get 17 visas issued that day without the officials taking breaks for lunch and prays. Several hours later, we were finally on our way driving through the desert landscape - lots of sand dunes, lots of camels, and lots of police checkpoints. We made it to Nouakchott only to discover the hotel we had planned to stay at was now a building site. Plan B worked just fine though and we found another place to stay (the appropriately named Auberge Sahara). Another long drive day ahead of us tomorrow as we leave Mauritania and cross the border into the Western Sahara, a disputed territory but currently under de facto control by Morocco.

The Gambia and back to Senegal

After two nights at Paradise Beach, it was time to pack our bags and explore some more of The Gambia. We definitely could have stayed there for many more days with its perfect climate of sun and gentle sea breezes, delicious freshly squeezed juices, and fabulous fish each day. 

We went further north to the city of Serrecunda as we wanted to visit Abuko Forest Reserve which was nearby. Serrecunda is basically the transport hub of The Gambia and not really a tourist destination, but it made sense to us from an ease of transport and cheap accommodation perspective. After finding somewhere to stay, (a cheap hotel which quite possibly doubled as a brothel as well!) we took the bus out to Abuko Forest Reserve where we spent a really pleasant afternoon wandering around seeing lots of birds, monkeys, crocodiles and duikers (small antelope). It was incredibly peaceful despite being near the city. Particularly memorable was getting really close to a troop of red colobus monkeys and seeing a kingfisher catch a tilapia.

It was something of a struggle to find somewhere to eat in Serrecunda. We found a local restaurant where the lady produced a bucket of pre-cooked chicken and fish as the menu options. Despite the questionable hygiene and length of time the food may have been sitting there, we had a decent enough meal of chicken, chips and salad. 

Thankfully we suffered no ill effects and were able to continue with our travels the next morning. It was quite a mission to get to our next location, Jinack Island. A local bus from Serrecunda to Banjul, then a shared taxi to the ferry port, and the ferry across The Gambia River from Banjul to Barra. That was the easy part. We then needed to get from Barra to the island which according to the website could be done by taking a shared taxi from Barra to Kayang village crossing, then getting a boat and finally a donkey cart to the lodge itself. Well, in Africa, nothing is ever simple and so far our transport had been going suspiciously well…  On reaching Barra, it seemed to be impossible to get a shared taxi and we were repeatedly told you had to take a 4 wheel drive vehicle at inflated tourist prices to get to the island. Once we finally managed to sort out transport at a reasonable price, our driver suggested that if we waited an hour, he could take us all the way to the lodge because it is possible to drive across to the island at low tide. You can probably guess where this is going… 

After having lunch, we set off an hour later only to arrive at the crossing to discover the tide was not yet low enough. Therein another hour and a half of waiting. Africans have an amazing ability to sit around and wait, and Gambian men even more so because they seem to spend their entire lives sitting about smoking weed and talking about the greatness of reggae and Bob Marley. Finally, after wading out into the river to test the depth, and numerous suggestions from us that we just take the longer route and get the boat, our driver in his infinite wisdom decides it will be okay to cross. If he had a decent vehicle and the ability to drive it, then yes it would no doubt have been fine but as neither of those boxes was ticked, we inevitably got stuck half way across and the engine cut out. Luckily by this stage, we had a couple of other guys in the vehicle so between them they got out and pushed it across to the other side. Miraculously, they got the engine going again and we finally made it to the lodge. It would have been a long walk otherwise!!

Jinack Lodge was an interesting experience. Billed as an eco lodge on a paradise island, it could have been that and may well once have been. However, like so many places in West Africa, it had rather gone to seed. We were again the only guests and if you wanted somewhere to get away from it all in basic surroundings, then it would certainly fit the bill. The island technically lies half in Gambian waters and half in Senegalese waters, although all the people living on the island speak Mandinka. 

After two nights on the island, it was time to make the long journey from their to Dakar and rejoin the rest of the group. It took the best part of ten hours to do that so for those of you who think travelling is all lovely and beautiful beaches and sunsets, sometimes it is really very far from that!! By 10am in the morning, we had not only crossed the border from The Gambia to Senegal, but were on our sixth different mode of transport. A 15 minute walk from the lodge to the river at 6.15am, a boat, an overloaded four wheel drive being attacked by sandflies, a local bus, a motorbike across the border, and a supremely uncomfortable sept-place for the remainder of the journey. I could bore you with the logistics of trying to balance remaining hydrated whilst also ensuring that you don’t need the toilet for long periods of time - suffice to say, it is a challenge! Still it is all an adventure with equal elements of frustration and amusement along the way. The Senegalese immigration was particularly entertaining. The police officer seemed most concerned as to why I wasn’t married with children. We had quite a chat, in French, I might add, about this! 

A long day, but we are now back with the rest of the group in Dakar in a surprisingly nice hotel for three nights. Dakar is rather more modern and cosmopolitan than any of the other West African cities we have come across. On the whole, it is quite clean with actual pavements and sewage systems, tarred roads, nice restaurants. Some of the group will end their trip here and some new people join for the next leg of the journey from Dakar to Marrakech, through Mauritania and the Western Sahara. Bring on the desert!

Senegal and an escape to The Gambia

From Guinea-Bissau where I last wrote, we crossed the border into the south western corner of Senegal - the Casamance, described by guide books as Senegal’s “most seductive region”. Our first stop was the fishing village of Elinkine where we spent two nights camping on the sandy banks of the Casamance River, and took a pirogue (wooden canoe type boat) over to the island of Karabane. From Elinkine, we headed to the rather more touristy resort of Cap Skiring - very popular with French tourists. We had a day here to shop and lunch in the many French restaurants before heading off to the smaller village of Diembereng where we camped for two nights. A 15 minute walk from Diembereng took you to miles of virtually deserted beach, perfect for long beach walks where you might bump into a few fishermen pulling in nets or some cattle sunning themselves on the sands but no tourists. Senegal has certainly provided a reprieve from the heat with a breezy coastline and much cooler nights - in fact we have complained of being cold a number of times!!

After four nights in the southern Casamance, it was time to cross over the river into the northern part. Here we stayed in the village of Abene, again close to a windswept beach. Evening entertainment at camp came in the form of a kaumpo dance, a “kaumpo” being an evil forest spirit, and some amazing drumming. We also visited the town of Kafountine nearby which has a huge fish market. Hundreds of colourful boats line the shores, and as the fishermen bring in their catches, the fish are gutted and then dried and smoked. It is a massive operation with thousands of fish smoking away, and lorries lined up to transport them away. Fascinating to see but the smell is quite intense as you can imagine!

The plan after our week in Casamance was to head into The Gambia, a tiny little sliver of a country that splits the north and south of Senegal. However, the Presidents of Senegal and The Gambia are currently locked in a war of words (which is not uncommon for these two countries) and have closed the borders. This happened a few weeks ago and varying reports have been heard as to whether it is just closed to commercial vehicles or whether tourist vehicles are able to cross. Understandably, OWA decided they could not risk taking the truck into The Gambia after reports of some other overland vehicles being allowed in but then not being allowed out the other side! So the trip has had to bypass The Gambia and take a 1000km detour around it to get to the northern part of Senegal. 

However, as it doesn’t seem to be a problem for small numbers of tourists on foot to cross the border, Lexi (my tent mate) and I have decided to leave the truck and do The Gambia anyway. A rather more appealing option than long drive days through Senegal and given we have been on a truck for over two months already… we will rejoin the group in five days time in Dakar.

Consequently, I find myself writing this under some palm trees on a beautiful Gambian beach after a fun filled journey of local transport to get here. It felt somewhat liberating to be making our own way after two months of decisions being made for us. We left the truck in a town 15km from the border where we hopped into a minibus which took us to the border, got out, walked through Senegalese immigration / customs, got our passports stamped, hopped back in the minibus to drive through no man’s land, then got out again for The Gambian immigration. Visitors passes stamped in our passports, we purchased some Dalasi (the local Gambian currency), and then found a “sept-place” taxi (a seven seater taxi that leaves when it is full) to take us to the next main town. From there, we got on another bus to take us west to the beach. We thought the bus was full when we got on but it turned out that our definition of full and the Gambian definition of full are somewhat different. Packed to the rafters, we reached the village of Sanyang, where we had a restorative cup of tea, before taking a bus to the beach along with the ladies taking lunch to their fishermen husbands. Three hours after leaving Senegal, and having spent only the princely sum of about two British pounds, we found ourselves on a beautiful stretch of Gambian beach eating freshly caught fish for lunch. The Gambia is a seriously small country because our journey on a map looked like it would take all day, but actually took no time at all.

The Gambia has something of a reputation for being rather tame compared to the rest of West Africa given that it is a popular British package holiday destination. However, the beaches to the south of the tourist areas are delightfully quiet and we are in fact the only guests at our hotel. There is one other hotel next door where we had dinner last night and were also the only guests! We feel as if we have our own private resort and a bargain at less than ten pounds a night each for our room and breakfast. Will have a couple of nights here before exploring some more of this little country…