Mauretania, our adventure of life

rkpl (57)in #photography • 8 years ago (edited)

https://steemit.com/travel/@rkpl/africa-after-the-gambia-our-adventure-of-life

continued story....

MAURITANIA. There is nothing here.

We pulled into the strip of no man's land. Frightening, sad, depressing. One could make a successful no one horror. The first 4 km looking like a battlefield. Everywhere wrecks, half-dismantled cars, signs warning of mines. We jump on the roof of our van and light surf horror seeing the mess in advance. Here begins the "savagery". Drive through no man's land is not easy. There is no road or asphalt. To the numerous ruts cross and do not give any guarantee passage. Passive locals can not help to point the way because just waiting until we bury
in the sand dunes, to be able to milk you for 50 euros for the help. Welcome to Africa. We caught by the Spanish lorry and go after him.

On the border surprisingly we meet in Mauritanian border police working together with the Guardia Civil - the Spanish police. Edifying. Because Mauritanian police do not inspire confidence and like terrorists in balaclavas look at you suspiciously. Because as long as the passport control went smoothly with a small facilitation fee, Customs went from nervous episode.
We were afraid of finding hidden alcohol, because it can not officially bring in Mauritania. Masked police let in the dog, who nervously running around our busie. Inspection ended positively, but those few minutes in their surroundings were very nervous. Only the presence of friendly Spanish police reassuring. Then, still on auto insurance and 5 hours of customs formalities where he managed to utargować only 20 euro discount. It was not worth the wait. Group confirm.
The whole operation przekroczania border took us 17 hours. In the end, happily we move delighted that we managed to do it for the day. Lying near Nouadhibou, it is not the highlight of the trip, but a visit there I think is an interesting lesson in architecture makeshift. It seemed to me that we, Poles, Grandmasters construction corrugated and persists to anyone. Besides Mauretańczykami. We do not spend the night there, bathed in a small lake in the desert and moved on, as long as the Nouakchott.

Every now and then we pass signs warning of mines. How can you make pee farther than a car?

Endless checkpoints continued where reflexively pull prepared in advance, in dozens of copies of your data. The police suggested we leave and spend the night next to them, but take risks, because the vision of the night in a real bed
at Auberge Sahara, after a few days on the road, shower and WIFI done its job. The place umordowani, dirty, but happy, we arrived before midnight. From this description it can be concluded that awaited us great luxuries. What you see in the pictures below, for us that was actually. No matter in which the bathroom, it's important that the shower running hot water. In fact,
it was one of the last places where we had contact with her. Each bed, no matter how it looked, each is a million times more comfortable than sleeping in the car. So the question of what we felt seeing a place to sleep, so different from European standards? We will respond to you, it felt like a mega lucky, who have just won the lottery. Not only that, a few weeks later sleeping on the sidewalk at the station in Dakar, tired to the limit, after a 5 hour journey in a cramped African taksóweczce, we felt like we were the six won the lottery twice. Happiness of traveling.

In the morning it turned out that the consulate is right next door, so we filed applications for visas Senegalese. With flushed face move
in the direction of the legendary border with Senegal. Feel that it Sahel. In the distance you can see the dunes, 'stray' herd they go the way
you least expect it. Goats and oxen on the road is more than dogs.

In places the road sand buries the nave by the wind. From time to time we pass bulldozers prepared to desanding road. More or less at this stage of consolidation of our group reached its apogee. After so many days and 20 hours a day in a car, we became close, like the participants of Big Brother. Jokes we sharpened and you could see clearly how well we play with each other, which believe me 8m2 is not easy. Your town, question or challenge (for example, do push-ups in a car)
and remind us of all the games of childhood.

The boundaries in Africa are generally open until 18:00. We had very little spare time, and we still have a great unknown, which is looking at the road border crossing at Diama. Mauritania is Senegal two passes. Rosso, where there is no bridge, and in addition to the border is still a ferry and Diama. Rosso is a true African circus corruption. At all costs I tried to avoid this passage, but the Diama hit is not easy. There are no signs, a local asked for directions to indicate the direction of Rosso. After careful researchu I had a photo of the place where you turn on the 97-kilometer Pista (dirt road),
which leads through the swamps and the National Park to the border border posts. Strangely enough, we came across a few dozen kilometers before a new, wide asphalt road, which is close to Keur Macena ends and turns into piste big holes on 30 km long dyke amid the swamps of which at the moment pops up a pumba (haha seriously these little wild with manes like nothing resembled the cartoon character). I will not describe what I thought while driving 60 km / h after these potholes.

It was after 18 when he arrived at the police checkpoint. It was not a boundary, but seemingly kind police officers called to the border, we're going. They called also for a certain individual, who in the uniform of a few hundred meters away, pulled us another 50 euros bribe for entry into the National Park. Then there were many. Apart from the uniform was still the subject of fees for the bridge, the subject of Municipalities, szlabaniarz ... and 6 posts of customs, police, gendarmerie times two because it is the boundary between two countries. The border was closed from the 18, so we had no choice and had to corrupt. The problem appeared
exactly as I expected. Senegalese customs officers wanted us to issue a document to enter conditional only 72 hours and it's imperative driving straight to the passage of the Gambia in Farafeni. Our plan was different: Dakar, Pink Lake. Tension grows, the tax collector pulls his boss from Saint Louis himself afraid to make a decision. Another hour passes, there is a boss, while behind him a taxi. It's raining proposal to leave the bus at the border, we we enter Senegal without a car and in the morning a taxi back
to the borders and get the car. The proposal of those substrates, and we are with you wysssssiemy with every cent. We are well aware of the fact that in the morning with the bus would not be even one screw. It is therefore absolutely refuse such a "solution."
Thanks guys consciousness demand the issue of a transit document for 72 hours with all the restrictions.
We know that the Dakar and so we go. Finally we end with a bribe of 550 euros (!!!), because the boss had private time, private car to arrive at the day when the game Champions League. So instead of sitting on the couch with his wife went ass and we came to "save" and 50 euros to just be. It's that the confirmation of the toll bore amount CFRA 2500, which is about 4.5 euros. It costs us exactly 550 euro. I do not know what time these procedures has in the minds of the team, which was waiting for me
in the bus, in my seethed. It was the most frustrating moment of the expedition.

View this limit we would not want to watch anymore.

After driving to Senegal all felt relieved. Also changed the landscape, there are more towns, villages, street lighting, shops and finally 3G coverage. And here it is no longer even manic scrolowanie facebook or instagrama. In this wilderness "contact" with the world it is sometimes beneficial. We spend the night in St. Louis in a wonderful location, found in the Internet Zebra Bar cliques , created by a German woman, Ursula. We arrive at night, because only in the morning, the Senegalese lush vegetation, we see a magical oasis of peace and quiet on the banks of running hundreds of charming krabików.

We move towards the Pink Lake, which wanted to see Skurka on his 30st birthday, because I really dreamed about this.
But there is nothing more beautiful than to fulfill someone's dreams. We're going to the national road. They begin with the magic baobabs,
which we love to watch. There is something comical, yet dignified. Wonderful great trees remind us of the story of Stas and Nel.

Over the Lac Rose we arrive just after sunset. We sleep on the shores of the lake, the bungalows. Finally the bed. In the morning it turns out that our place is even more beautiful than we thought. It is already a tradition, we arrive at night and in the morning only place enchants us with its charm. But to our surprise the morning pink lake is not pink. Only when the sun comes out and tighten them illuminates appears pink color. Unusual color is due to the presence of cyanobacteria
and minerals at this point.

This time limit was a nice experience. Gambijscy cops are very talkative, we exchanged Facebook and glad we went toward Jinack Island. We got to the moment of leaving the Gambian flag and play the anthem. We were reprimanded that during the national anthem, do not move, talk, and you have to be in a place where you are currently happen. Yes, we did.
When several kilometers in the great euphoria, glad we were driving along a sandy road, our minibus suddenly stopped. We buried in sand up to their armpits and realized that the euphoria was not a good advisor. It was a little personality test team. Since the majority decided to celebrate, zakrapiając alcohol, the fact that so no problem managed to pass through the border,
willing to dig the car was missing. And in the darkness, the African forest was looking for help in vain. In the distance you could hear the waves, the ocean, the sound of bass being carried across the water. There took place a party, and even though we were so close we could get there. Karma. With the help of our snow shovels (!), Hands the key to the wheel bravely we dug auto. It was a few hours of hard team work, which cemented our busikową family. Around 5 am, after an overnight fast digging, exhausted, very dirty, we got to the ferry at Barra. There we stood in line and waited until morning sleeping at random.