Western Sahara

 

Leaving the spectacular location above the Legzira Arch I missed the chance to say goodbye to Bibi but hope he will be there on my return north in 4-6 weeks. I rejoined the main road at Goulimim (or Guelmim) having avoided the temptation to stay at the remarkable Fort Bou Jerif and after a couple of steady hours with the usual caution over speed cameras and friendly police stops I arrived at Tan Tan and turned towards the coast for an overnight at a largish campsite at El Ouati. This was busy with dozens of European vans on long stay overs and a fair few vans, 4x4s and overland trucks all mostly heading south. One Brit couple were heading north having failed to get through to South Africa where they were hoping to start a new life. Plan B is to ship their van and fly themselves and their dogs instead, the later sounding like an expensive pavlova. Apparently in Guinea diesel was almost unobtainable having been largely seized by the military.

Anyway there were good hot showers enabling me to wash clothes and body, the necessary waste point for the loo and a potable water top up point so it made a useful service stop for under a fiver sans EHU. I joined another Brit couple, ex publicans from Dartmoor, for a useful evening of exchanges and conversation.

Leaving by 11 I did a small amount of shopping but failed to find any insect repellent in the pharmacies and was soon on my way for another shortish hop down as far as the Naila Nature Reserve where the usually arrow straight road loops around a vast lagoon. A mile of tarmac brought me out on to cliffs above the lagoon where it was OK to stay - there were already perhaps half a dozen other rigs stretched out along the tops with a jumble of perhaps half a dozen semi derelict block huts making up the village. Down below a few small fishing boats were moored up alongside a wooden jetty and a large heron stood silently at the water's edge. Eventually he flew offshore a couple of hundred yards and landed on a submerged bank - herons cannot take off from water and he obviously knew his stuff. 

 

Later Hassan a friendly soldier from a military blockhouse came over to take a photo of my passport but generally I
hunkered down for a couple of hours as the strong northerly was creating a dense sandstorm of the finest and finest Saharan sand. The wind eventually abated and I took a walk out along the cliffs to nose at other rigs and enjoy the remarkable views. On my return an old guy appeared from one of the shacks and asked for 20MAD to stay - absolutely fine by me in such a unique spot.

 

After a very quiet night under an amazing starscape I moved on for another relatively short hop to Tarfaya where overnighting on the promenade (as such) was allowed. It was a great spot looking out across to the Casa Del Mar, a fort built by the British in 1882 but now cut off at high tide and slowly crumbling in to the sea. After walking the short distance in to town for an excellent fish tagine I sat and read in the shade of the harbour wall for a few hours waiting for the tide to surround the fort. Back at the van a young German couple in an ancient T3 were on a fairly ambitious journey to reach Dakar and get back to Berlin, all in a month..... Later that evening the usual group of excitable kids came round in search of sweets or pens but seemed happy enough with one of my cards each to show their teacher. One lad was an absolute whizz on his rollerblade, and no that's not a typo. Earlier I'd walked past the military post and looked round what I think had been intended to be a new military complex - all the empty block buildings were inundated with sand and the project seemed to be at an impasse.

 

 

 

New roads took me through acres of new infrastructure with streetlights, utility boxes and so on but no actual development and would probably have put me back on the new 4 lane RN1 but I chose the old coast road and was rewarded with the dramatic sight of a wrecked ferry that had come to grief in 2008 whilst crossing to the Canary Islands some 80 miles away and thus quashing the idea of a regular link to promote tourism to over here. A few miles further south I technically crossed in to the disputed Western Sahara - this issue being the main reason why every 2 kilometres saw a small military hut, many with a demountable living cabin tucked away out of the wind and a solitary bored looking soldier keeping watch. I passed for the second time and I think travelling separately, two cyclists, one on a recumbent and the other later on with a bike packing set up - the strong, sand laden southerlies must have been something of a challenge but both were OK for water.

So Tuesday saw me arrive at remote Layounne where again overnight parking was permitted in front of a hotel development that had not been finished. The long promenade and wide sandy beach was cleaner than El Ouatia which had shown Morocco's ever increasing and heartbreaking plastic waste problem at its worst. The place was deserted but along the beachside road there was a guy sat in a hut every 200m in an approximation to lifeguard duties but with no one on the beach let alone in the water. I bought some basics at a small shop and returned to the parking lot for an excellent chat with Alan from New South Wales who had shipped his Land Rover with camper box on the back to Southampton and was doing the UK and Europe. He'd just finished a Portuguese organised rally to Dakar but felt the mad dash across the Atlas and through Morocco had been too intense and caused some issues with his vehicle and his intention was to head slowly back to Spain to get various problems resolved. He was keen for tips as to where to go on his return journey so I traced out a rewarding itinerary that included many of my favourites from the last decade. He'd been in the navy for 35 years but even so was finding his camper box a bit confined and enjoyed a look round my comparatively sumptuous quarters. Later another couple from California arrived - they had shipped their van over as well and the young Polish couple doing it the hard way in a Mercedes estate car added to the UN atmosphere.

South of Layounne even the map abandoned all pretence of scale and jumped to 50 miles per inch but the sat nav, apart from changing to Mauritanian time a bit early, continued to do the necessary as I picked up the long route south through barren landscapes broken only by comms masts, a line of pylons, the regular military huts and occasional HGVs heading in both directions. Fresh water had been available at the park up and remarkably at the huge LPG complex on the edge of town I was able to get both my CG907 European cylinders filled for 80p each giving me enough gas for the countries beyond Morocco and until my return. 150 miles further south below Cap Boujdour I turned off on a dusty track, crossed a huge expanse of limestone and stopped to talk to a UK plated van occupied by Ken from Oz and his young lady friend Claudine. He'd already stayed a couple of nights and assured me it was fine to stop so I pulled over a few hundred yards further on looking down across a jungle of huge parts of the limestone shelf that had become detached and fallen away to the beaches below. Remarkably in amongst these vast chunks of rock various families lived with the menfolk earning a very basic living from fishing out beyond the breakers sitting in large lorry inner tubes. Two vans were loading up the day's crates of fish and octopus and later another van drove along the cliff edge stopping at each shack to sell bread, water and other essentials. Apparently the police come and burn down the shelters to discourage the fishermen so they have now resorted to digging caves in the soft sand beneath the limestone edge. As the sun set I watched tens of thousands of gulls flying north - Ken said they had been non stop for his two days so at a conservative guess there would have been over 2 million passing through, but even with binoculars it was difficult to ascertain the species.

 

 

 

This morning I took the first of my antimalarial tablets, an antibiotic in effect that also treats syphillis so covers many eventualities, and counted perhaps 80 inner tubes out at sea and another dozen or so attempting to get out beyond the breakers - absolutely humbling -  before joining the road again where within half an hour I saw two guys hitching for the border. Fabi from Germany and Anthony from Canada had met up back at Sidi Ifni and were heading through to South Africa eventually so they jumped in for the long empty run south crossing at one point the Tropic of Cancer almost unnoticed as we flashed past the single rusting sign. Later we passed three cyclists spaced a few kilometres apart - an older German couple and a young German lad, all were fine for water but we stopped anyway after a few more miles at the only cafe we'd seen for miles. It didn't provide food but the tea was welcome and I produced oranges for everyone including the owner which seemed popular. The younger cyclist arrived soon after and said he was intending to ride as far as the Gambia and then fly to Turkey before cycling back to Germany from where he had left in September.

After another two hours and only one friendly police checkpoint we arrived at the Morocco Mauritania border just an hour before it closed so I decided to call it a day and stay the night at the Shell fuel station as my crossing would no doubt, and according to information gleaned en route take longer. The guys decided to try for it so I walked the last km with them to get a feel for the place and bid them farewell with a loose plan for us all to meet up in Nouadhibou and try for the infamous iron ore train together. As they have not returned I assume they have made it so will hope to meet up with them again in a day or two - I believe the campsite is OK about leaving the van there for what will be a couple of days of torture.

Really pleased to get here 2800 miles after leaving Sheffield five weeks ago (plus the Biscay mileage) and touch wood the van chugs on giving a steady 45+ mpg, using no oil or coolant and providing a comfortable refuge at night in some amazing places. It also today passed the total of 90,000 miles since purchased just over 6 years ago with a total of 120k on the clock. I've got 7000 miles until the next scheduled oil change so that should get me back to Spain but I carry the oil and filter anyway so at a push could get it done over here - all the Shell garages have a lube shed adjacent to the lavage.... stop sniggering at the back...

So tomorrow should be - drive 1km to Moroccan border formalities, complete: drive 1km of nomansland to Mauritanian border and then probably spend a few hours getting my visa, the van's TIP, insurance cover, a working Mauritanian SIM card and money exchange - the various blogs and chats seem to imply that with adequate French a 'fixer' is not necessary so we'll see. It's hard to guess the accuracy of information obtained as I'd been led to believe that military checkpoints were every few miles on the way down here, I've seen none, just the one friendly gendarme , and that a pre printed 'fiche' with all one's basic info would be advantageous : printed off 30, haven't used one. Just chatted to 5 adventure bikers from the Czech Republic who said it took 3 hours in total so we'll see and I've plenty of books.

No idea how much data or connectivity to expect in Mauritania so the next post may be a while, thus piccies  HERE will have to do.