october 2001
in the morning, after spending the night at fort guergarat, a military officer returned our passports and sent us off across the border. here the tarmac ended and we were on the old spanish road, which today is a sandy and hardly visible desert track that leads into the dunes. driving on sand had always been a subject of my nightmares but here, there was one more problem to deal with: landmines! the whole area between the border of morocco and mauritania was full of them and leaving the track, even for a meter, was no option. some burnt out vehicles, in spitting distance from the track, served as grim reminders.
it is in such situations, where 'murphy' is at his best… and my bike broke down in the middle of it all. the back wheel suddenly blocked and there i was, stuck on a minefield and not even sure that we were on the right track. to start working on the bike was no option as it was getting late and our water supplies were few. so i left the bike behind and climbed on the back of thomas' africa twin. i still admire him for driving the both of us with his unsuitable tires through the sand to nouadhibou. here i hired a driver who drove us back into the desert with his pick-up. we found the bike untouched. it was way past midnight when we arrived back in town. the rescue had cost me dearly but i was happy that everything had turned out well.
the problem with my bike turned a minor one. i repaired it in the spot ('african style') and hoped it would last until dakar where i would find a mechanic who could fix it properly. after a few days in nouadhibou we put our bikes on the famous iron-ore train (longest and heaviest train in the world) and drove to choum. we didn't stay in this dusty little desert town and continued directly to atar. that piste was gorgeous, leading us through a big dusty plane and over two mountain passes. after atar we were back on a tar road, going all the way to nouakchott, mauritania's capital city.
mauritania is a funny country! the people are nice but quite reserved. i could never figure out what they were thinking. one thing seems to be sure: in mauritania everything is possible if you have the money; and every official seemed to have his price. we left nouakchott quite soon and drove south to senegal.
the infamous border post at rosso lived up perfectly to it's bad reputation. but once inside senegal we were rewarded with the countries beauty. everything was green, the air was moist and the scent of plants was overwhelming after the weeks in the inhospitable and dry climate of the desert. it felt good and a broad smile spread over my face. i had arrived in sub-saharan africa, the 'real africa'.
i admired the colorful dresses of the women who were carrying their goods on their heads and the babies on the back. people here seemed much more lively than their serious neighbors to the north; they laughed a lot and there was music wherever you went.
we met several travelers in senegal and when we arrived in dakar we were quite a big group. everybody was on the way to ivory coast and we decided to travel together. it took us almost two weeks in dakar to get all our visas and to fix our motorbikes which had suffered quite a bit in the desert.
thomas left us in dakar, returning to a job and to winter in switzerland. he had been a great travel companion and i was sure that i would soon miss him.
the desert
trying to climb a dune
the senegal river at rosso
the germans are crossing the river
northern senegal
andys' bike broke down
andy and robert at the repair shop
ile de goree, senegal