Return to Europe

This is the last post for our West African travels as we have arrived back in Europe for a short stay in Roquetas de Mar with Charles, Montse and Rebeca.

Our journey north from Mauritania was not uneventful. We delayed our departure from Nouakchott on Sunday, 4th to go to the Port de Peche. It was still very windy so not many boats were in from fishing – lots at anchor and even more on the beach but it was still a colourful scene. Much activity unloading baskets of fish from the tide line, groups of ladies sorting and selling fish, and on the quayside were the preparation areas. We toyed with buying either a lobster or fish for the freezer but decided against it as we would be travelling from then on.

We had intended driving straight for the border as with strong winds, visibility would not be good to visit the Parc National du Banc d’Arguin. However, when we reached Chami we noted a piste towards the coast, one of the entry routes to the Park, 40 kms to the beach, and decided to try it. With a lot of wind blown sand the going was hard and having become stuck once and reducing the tyre pressures we thought better of it, mainly because we had only enough diesel to reach the Moroccan border. As it was, the 6kms in then back again were greedy on fuel. With sunset approaching we thought it wise to stop at the Chami service station for the night. It turned out to be very entertaining – buses coming in, disgorging their passengers for prayers at the mosque, tea, toilets and the shop, which Chris discovered sold mainly biscuits and cake. Every so often the shop closed up for the shopkeeper to go off to the mosque. The women travellers were mostly swathed in scarves and ‘sheets’ and tended to waddle. However, 2 stood out from the rest: a tall, attractive Korean looking woman chicly dressed in black jacket and jeans, and a young companion to one of the muslim ladies. She fascinated me most as she was wearing a sleeveless top (which the wind whipped aside to expose a bare midriff), skirt and matching turban in red and orange fabric and she swayed provocatively as she walked about the forecourt. After the mid-evening rush the traffic was very light and we would have had a peaceful night had we not parked next to a water tap. It was amazing how busy it was – people coming to wash, drink, hawk and spit ad several cars pulling in to fill multiple water containers, one of them at 4am!

We did not buy diesel before leaving as it would be cheaper in Western Sahara so unsurprisingly we had to use both cans and were close to empty and worried about not making it through the rough 3.6 kms of ‘no man’s land’. The Moroccan entry was very slow mainly due to a big queue for the X-ray scanner and the usual to-ing and fro-ing for passport/paperwork stamping and searches. As we have proved in the past, it’s best to arrive at the border within an hour of it closing rather than in the middle of the day.

A Frenchman in the queue recommended a campsite at Dakhla but that was too far for us to drive and we found the first easy looking track close to the sea to pull off at. All was well until the last bit which took us by surprise and we were stuck again. Out with the spade, move a little and stop …  We were soon joined by an army guard from his post who came armed with a spade and fetched old fishing nets to lay on the sand along with our waffle boards. Once onto firm ground he was happy for us to stop for the night and took our details. We went for a breezy walk along the beach which was littered with cuttlefish shells. At 8pm we saw headlights approaching along the track, which we were almost blocking. A 4x4 vehicle came roaring past us but the following two both stuck in the sand and the first, when returning to help, ended up stuck as well. It took a while in the dark, using us as a winch point, to free them. The next morning with lowered tyre pressures we had no difficulty driving out again.

We have driven past the turn off to the Dakhla peninsular 3 times already so on Tuesday we had time to drive the 40km south again to have a look. The more sheltered beaches of the bay side are ideal for the less experienced kite surfers and is a mecca for surf camps and schools. The multicoloured kites littered the beaches and the waves were alive with surfers. This area also attracts the ‘snow birds’ – retired Europeans (mainly French) with camper vans. We drove on in to Dakhla to find an ATM and buy bread. Most of the Moroccan army are stationed in Western Sahara and there are large army camps from Dakhla to Laayoune together with UN personnel. It is a strange place – a seaside resort with big hotels, restaurants and promenade combined with a strict muslim small town. Chris bought small fried fish straight from the market for our lunch. Returning to drive back the peninsula we thought we would take a quick look at the Ocean coast about a kilometre across, and found a lovely bay with easily accessible beach and rocks overlooking the sea where we could park. There were the more experienced wind and kite surfers out on the waves to watch and so we stayed. It made for a very relaxing interlude – lazing, reading and I had the time to paint a seascape for Chris’s birthday gift. We ‘popped’ into town to buy vegetables, a fresh chicken and charcoal from the covered market and had a real feast for the birthday meal, plus strawberries and cream. We had to light the Cobb barbecue inside as the wind was so strong. We were afraid it would blow away but it cooked the chicken well, giving it a smoky flavour.

The drive to Laayoune was windy, the air full of sand and visibility very poor so we couldn’t see the coast. We stopped at a windswept campsite with 2 other ‘travellers’ vehicles because we needed to fill our water tank. It was a desolate place in the murk but a pretty fishing village we imagine in the summer sunshine. Fortunately the following day was clear after early morning sea fog and we reached the first autoroute services near Agadir that evening for the next overnight stop. From then on it was easy driving all the way to the northern coast. We had fortunately been persuaded to buy return ferry tickets when we did the outward journey and we reached Tangier Med port in good time for the midnight ferry crossing.

The weather here in Spain is clear and sunny as expected but we woke up on Sunday morning on the outskirts of Algeciras to a cool temperature of 5.5C. What a contrast to the heat of Ghana!