Hotel Halima Nouakchott

Arriving in Atar at dawn, we didn't take in much of our accomodation and conked out although we had it on great authority it was amazing. Surfacing in a sweat, we soon established our amazing abode. After a suitably sticky sleep, this would be our last one indoors for a while as we took to sleeping under the stars like the lovely locals. The Bab Sahara is an oasis of calm and quirkiness set in the small but sweet town of Atar. In it are a series of thatched huts, a cute ...

... asleep and a bit taken a back though relieved to run into Majit right outside our accomodation. A Morrocan businessman cum mafia man in our opinion as it later emerged, he casually offered us a lift across the desert from Dakhla to Nouhdibou. As there is almost no organised transport out here we had a hazy chat but soon snapped up his offer and agreed a small fee for his troubles.

Taking to the road, we realised ...

... us over the whole trip. We had a nice English lunch in a nice English pub, although not the cock and bottle pub which was another great English name!! Day 4 was a rest day as we lazed around the house before Paul came and we went into the city for a night out. We went to a few different bars and had a lot of fun, although Sarah did manage to spill some beer all over Paul's lap...luckily he employed ninja like hand-eye coordinating to catch both the two pints, rescuing not only the ...

... of running out of water on the drive as we miscalculated the amount of water we would drink during the day. The town itself is quite a messed up town that just seems to have been thrown together with very little planning.


We stayed in a hotel for the night which was right across the road from a mosque. The sounds of ALLAH, ALLAH at 4.15am and every 30 mins after that is enough, considering its coming from a loud speaker ...

... br>Upon reaching Nema, the plan was to drive to Ouolata, and drive back to cross the border into Mali. Ouolata provided the allure of being on an ancient trade route, on which it was the last stop for the camel caravans before Timbuktu. Our fate was revealed within the first 5 minutes of trying to find the road to Ouolata - our tarmac road disappeared and the truck bogged for the first time. This was promptly followed by another bog in which we all ...

... only to hover in the hope of pulling out a few from your feet before continuing on and repeating the process throughout. By the time I made it back to the road the soles of my flip flops were covered in a 1cm thick layer of prickles. Back on the road for another long afternoon drive (we did a record 560km today) we were pleased to pull off, find another camp spot and have chicken once again for dinner. This time the ...

... Due to lack of road signs we were treated to a lovely tour of the city whilst trying to find the campground. Succeeding we pulled into a tiny tiny place. Where an earth are all our tents going to fit???? It was then we clocked the rooms - those desperate for a bed raced from room to room trying to claim one as there were limited numbers. Oliver and I, comfy in our little tent, opted an outdoor stay, as ...

... que passaria dai a um mês e meio e traria o devido « cadeau ». Acabou por ter de vender o telemovel que comprara em Marrocos por quase nada, mas o suficiente para pagar o seguro. Enfim, mais uma viagem tensa, mas depois de outros tantos controles e mil estorias para convencer os religiosos corruptos que também são policias, la conseguimos. Chegamos as 4 da manha. Dormimos. Muito calor, muitos mosquitos, muito incomodo. Dormitei. No dia seguinte conhecemos o primo ...

... Derek and I have avoided holding hands or snogging ferociously in pulic, though.  But again, the rebellious teenagers who hang out around Marrakech's major mosque, Koutoubia, are fairly open in their displays of affection. We wonder daily how such apparent differences in the conduct of the younger generations sit with the more traditional older Moroccans.  It is not odd to find a girl walking arm in arm with her mother, and perhaps even grandmother, both of whom are wearing ...

... we even went to one with a swimming pool). But anyway, more of the specifics since our last update:  We left Nouadihbou on the longest train in the world.  It is a train built to transport the country's natural supplies of iron ore from the mines at Zouerate back to the coast at Nouadhibou for shipping elsewhere.  The train we travelled on comprised 240 carriages for the iron ore.  Right at the back of the train were two passenger carriages.  The train crosses the country ...