Sudan

1st June 2004

With slightly dizzy heads due to the diesel, we awake and brave the cabin away from the masses until early afternoon. We meet a friendly Sudanese man, currently living in Miami, visiting family in Wadi Halfa – he invites us to stay with him that night. After the Captain fails to operate the radio and contact the port, the boat stops, is boarded by port police and we dock into Wadi Halfa. We are immediately met by our next border help, Kamal Osman, who cracks on with the vehicle paperwork until the border closes at 6pm – no news of the pontoon. Along with Martin, George (a large man from Cameroon) and ‘Japan Man’ (Kimura), we are carted off to Hisham’s family home for a big hearty meal and then our first piece of Sudanese culture – a Nubian wedding. In the walled area, the men and women dance separately in lines facing each other to the rhythmical Nubian music being produced by a keyboard and various singers.

2nd June 2004

Off into early to hear that the pontoon carrying our vehicle has not arrived during the night and there is no communication with it to find out its whereabouts; all we know is it has left Aswan. We are told 11am, then 2pm, then 4pm. We prepare ourselves for another long wait and get the registration with the police out of the way; another dreadful system. We sit in the market eating lunch with the others who wait for their 9pm train to Khartoum before deciding a change of scenery is required and head for the port. When the port shuts at 6pm, we are told the pontoon will arrive during the night. With heads down, we limp back to Miami man’s house for food and are fed popcorn whilst watching satellite TV – again, we have been so lucky to meet such friendly and accommodating people; the Nile hotel in town looks grotty!

3rd June 2004

After the usual English tea, biscuits and orange cake brought to us on a silver tray and served in the best china, we head into town early to hear the dreaded four words, ‘it’s broblem, big broblem’ – still no pontoon!! To have communication with it would be too sensible but then we are told it has arrived! Then it hasn’t, then it has! We decide to see for ourselves and are told it has broken down and is waiting for an engineer from Aswan at the side of the lake somewhere. Back to the house for reading, diary, lunch, films and more popcorn while the family listen to Nubian music on the computer; seeing a Sudanese man in a full length white robe tapping his feet to Nubian music blasting from Sony headphones keeps are spirits up.

4th June 2004

The cake and tea are polished off quickly in anticipation of good news which doesn’t come – the pontoon is fixed but will arrive in a day. We are invited on a family outing in a 1970’s Landrover to see a cousin’s farm on the edge of the lake and then later another, where we eat watermelon and drink tea. Miami man is planning on bringing trees, cattle and equipment up from Khartoum next week to start a farm of his own for his family and friends. Whilst we chat about his plans near the water’s edge, I see my first scorpion, running along an irrigation pipe. We head back to the house, the mother immediately jumps to her feet and brings us popcorn as we watch Henman lose the semi’s of the French Open. Before the match finishes, we are chucked in a pickup and whisked to the port; the pontoon has arrived only four days late!! Customs has closed so the car must be left at the port until morning.

5th June 2004

We race to the port early and after some paperwork and customs, it feels the nuts to be back in our vehicle. After more tea, biscuits, lunch, some family photos and goodbyes, we head off to continue our journey south. At the first check-point out of town, we are asked to drive a man 100km en route to his home town; he unfortunately lost his daughter the previous day - we obviously oblige to repay some Nubian kindness. The road south to Dongola is unreal consisting of severe corrugation of varying frequency which, at any speed, sends extreme vibrations through the suspension resulting in an average speed of only 20km/h. We then hit deep sand, then sharp rocks, then more corrugation – this continues for hours. We drop off the man who immediately breaks down in front of his friends – his daughter apparently drowned in the Nile, aged 12 - we leave. We pass our first Acacia tree in a sandy clearing surrounded by red rock faces…..we now feel we are in Africa! We eventually reach halfway and decide to camp outside a small town called Agri on some farmland next to the Nile. We munch popcorn and watch the sun melt into the water whilst herons skim the surface – magical. After a good pasta and our first fire, we hit the sack, still shaking from the shocking journey.

6th June 2004

The farmer brings us dry firewood and drinks tea with us. We head off on the dreadful road passing through villages waving at all the locals who shout ‘welcome, welcome!’and the kids chase the car either on bike or foot. We stop in a village for lunch and hear hissing – our first puncture! After a very sweaty wheel change in the heat, we press on. We lose the track and after crossing boulder scattered desert and asking villagers for hazy directions, we continue on and decide to camp on the river after a ridiculous 9hrs driving. After managing to only catch the bottom with our sugarcane fishing rod, we eat and stare into the campfire after a very long day on what cannot be called a road.

7th June 2004

We awake to the sounds of a young man and a donkey circling the vehicle. We hop down from the roof tent to be escorted to a rear wheel; we felt as deflated as the tyre. After another quick wheel change in front of the increasing crowd of locals, we head off to find the river crossing at Argo (Michelin map wrongly indicates Kerma en Nuzl). When it finally returns from the opposite bank, we reverse down the steep bank to join the donkeys on the pontoon and cross the river, hitting only one sandbank! The road starts to improve and then tarmac – the feeling is heaven - we arrive in Dongola at 4ish and track down Hisham’s cousin, Ahmed, head of the local tax office. He takes us to repair the two punctures and then his house to meet his wife and two delightful young children. After hunting down a prehistoric internet café, we eat, shower and sleep in yet another hospitable family home.

8th June 2004

We leave Dongola early and head down the tarmac road towards Abu Dom, the junction with the road south to Khartoum. The first 40km of tarmac quickly disappeared into deep sandy track, frequently rising over the axles, rocky road more suited to a quarry and corrugation through villages for the remaining 140km. Passing the tarmac turnoff to Khartoum, to continue on to Merowe to see the small but apparently spectacular pyramids, was a tough decision. We stop early in farmland surrounded by palm trees, erect the hammock and chill for a little bit too long and struggle to eat and shower in the dark; a not uncommon event!

9th June 2004

To avoid the afternoon heat, we leave for Merowe early at 7am and cover the 50km of corrugation and 50km of tarmac in good time. On reaching the town, it took us over 2hrs to eventually cross the river, and then on reaching the pyramids we were too skint to pay the 10 USD to see them up close and resorted to a photo from 100m! The pre-planning for an early day’s camping at the pyramids was turning into a disaster not helped when we realised we had no money for the return river crossing! Oops. The decision to head slowly back to the previous camp site was made and after arriving back there early evening, we ate a huge meal and tried to forget about the complete waste of a day!….and we managed to chuck out our plates with some rubbish….doh.

10th June 2004

Up early again to avoid heat and drove the 350km south into Khartoum. We hunt down the Acropole Hotel, written about in many books and guides and a home for aid workers and journalists from around the world. We are immediately met by the Greek owner, George, who very kindly helped us with our Sudanese visas before the trip could begin. When we learn that a double room in the Acropole costs 150USD we almost collapse and have to unfortunately explain that this is unrealistic for our budget; he still charges us 100USD for his visa services! We hand over the cash and leave for the less expensive Blue Nile Sailing Club consisting of a car park and shower for 11USD; the clubhouse being one of Kitchener’s old gun boats. We hunt down the internet and eat beans from the back of the car. Later, we sit on the terrace and share experiences with two Dutch lads driving back up to Holland from Cape Town.

11th June 2004

Morning was spent cleaning the old car and writing the update on the terrace of the sailing club overlooking the river. In the afternoon, we tag along with a German couple and the two Dutch lads to the whirling Dervishes of Omdurman, a religious dancing group of people, which is apparently worth a look. After some tea waiting for the madness to begin, we are suddenly hit by a huge sandstorm and torrential rain so all dive into the back of the landy. On deciding it’s safe to venture back to hopefully see some action, we are invited to meet the ‘head’ Dervisher. We accept and after a history talk of the mosque etc. are asked to pay 100USD or leave…we obviously opt to leave immediately, a little bemused, and agree we had just been chucked out before even seeing any dancing! Back at the sailing club, after a good pasta, we watch the lighting in the distance and are hit by another sandstorm, rush to the tent and batten down the hatches for the night. Due to the delays in Egypt and Wadi Halfa, we must visit the Ethiopian Embassy tomorrow to renew our now expired visas before heading towards the border….

To see the pics, click here!-------> Photo Link!