Sudan

Sand Storm

 

 

SUDAN A LAND SHROUDED IN MYSTERY

Sudan is the largest country in Africa, covering over 2.5million sq. km. Southern Sudan is hot humid and tropical while northern and western Sudan are vast desolate areas of stunning desert. Due to the war in south and eastern Sudan, travel is restricted and getting a Sudanese visa is extremely difficult and for many impossible. On entering Sudan, one is also required to register and get a travel permit in order to drive north through to Egypt.

The Sudanese people are known for their generous hospitality and friendliness and the Nubian people of northern Sudan are some of the most amiable people we had met on our trip.

We were asked two questions when crossing at the Sudan border. Are we from Denmark and what did we think of Sudan? The answer to the first question was simple, the second more complicated. My mind was racing as to what might be the politically correct answer. I replied, “I have only been here for 10 minutes, so I had not formed any impressions yet.” He smiled and informed me that Sudan was a very safe country except for the Darfur region, where the problems were caused by the presence of too many foreign armies. I breathed a sigh of relief as he signed the carnet, stamped our passports and we were on our way. It was too late to travel to the next town of Gedaref so we bushed camped at the border.

Dust in My Eyes

LEAKING FLUID

The mullahs calling the faithful to prayer, braying donkeys, and barking dogs woke us up, in the early hours. We were hoping to make it to Khartoum, the capital, but many kilometers of bad roads lay ahead of us. As we packed up to leave, a local came over to inform us we had an oil leak. It seemed we had a developed a differential oil leak. The nearest town where we could have the leak checked was a five hours drive away.

The road was as bad as rumoured and we were nervous; would we make it before the differential seized? I kept stopping to check the fluid level and felt relief when the town came into view on the horizon. On stopping to fill up with gas, the garage owner asked my nationality and when I told him Canadian, he burst into a broad smile and informed me that he was looking for a Christian Canadian wife who should be 25 years old. He gave me his name and address, heartily shook my hand and we were on our way. Quite the introduction to Sudan.

Sudanese Entrepreneur

A LOCAL ENTREPRENEUR

The first order of business was to get the leak repaired. After booking into a hotel, I embarked on what yet another adventure in finding a qualified Toyota mechanic. Help was freely offered and before too long I found myself surrounded by wrecks and friendly Sudanese men of all descriptions. After a quick examination, the mechanic said he could repair the leak, and while he worked, I got to know some of the locals, whose English varied from non-existent to quite good. A rather well dressed man approached me saying that he would like me to come over to his workshop and see his manufacturing operation. I said that I would be happy to once the repairs had been completed. After paying for the work and bidding warm farewells to all my newfound Sudanese friends, I walked over to meet the man as I had promised earlier. What followed was quite fascinating and inspiring. It turned out that he was a teacher, and in an attempt to supplement his meager teaching income as well as develop local skills, he had designed and was, manufacturing presses to extract oil from sesame seeds. He had been successful enough that he could expand his workforce and purchase a rather expensive lathe. I was truly inspired by his story and felt very privileged that he took the time explain it all to me. Once again, I had had the chance to experience the creativity of third world entrepreneurs and artisans, who struggle in difficult conditions to improve their own as well as the lives of those around them.

I returned to the hotel to find Janet looking miserable and killing fleas, “This is the worst flea infestation I have experienced in Africa,” she muttered. We moved on.

Time for a Break

THE DESERT

The road north to Khartoum was extremely busy, with numerous very long trucks ferrying goods to and from Port Sudan. Driving is both challenging and dangerous, but there was little to see so keeping one’s eyes on the road was not difficult. Khartoum is a large sprawling city, which appears to be enjoying something of an economic boom. It is one big construction site, probably due to the fact that Sudan is now a significant oil producer. At the National Camping Site, we were pleased to find Heidi and Kuhn, overlanders from Belgium who we had previously met in Nairobi. We needed some emotional support after Ethiopia and it was good to be with friends. Khartoum is perhaps best known as the place where the Blue and White Niles meet, but has little to offer tourists, so we decided that we would leave as soon as we felt ready to tackle the desert road to Wadi Halfa where we would catch the ferry to Egypt.

Whilst preparing dinner a large (7ton) MAN truck pulled into the campsite and out jumped a couple from Germany, Henning, Anna, and their dog Aisha. We all agreed to travel across the desert in convoy. After discussing various routes, we decided that we would take the most direct route to Wadi Halfa. We would follow the Nile north via Dongola. We were pleased to have traveling companions for the trip and their dog Aisha would be fun and different. We were especially relieved after hearing what the road conditions were like from an exhausted Dutch motorcyclist who arrived at the campsite after just completing the grueling 5-day drive from Wadi Halfa. Completely spent, he said how badly he had underestimated what “Africa had to throw at him.” He commiserated with a biker from New Zealand, Campbell, who was trying to repair his suspension that had blown up on the same road, and forced him to hitch a ride on a Sudanese truck. It would be interesting to see how this road compared to the infamous Moyale Road in Northern Kenya. I was full of nervous energy and ready to get going.

Clouds

Before heading into the desert however, we needed to get the air conditioner fan belt replaced, since it was making weird noises and we did not want to tackle the desert without a fully functional air conditioner. Henning and Ana were to follow us to the Toyota dealer and once we had our conditioner fixed, we would start heading north. They lost us in the maze of traffic and alleyways as we tried to make our way back to the main road we ended up driving amidst some protesting in the street. Packed cars, trucks, hundreds marching, banners, and flags blocked our route. It appeared peaceful but we were essentially unable to move as the police were blocking off roads to keep all the protesters contained to certain roads. Janet and I just settled in and as we made our way in the midst of all the protesters we had no option but to move with them. After several hours, we managed to “escape” and head for the Toyota dealer. By now, over 3 hours had passed and we had no idea what happened to Henning and Ana. It was dark by the time our car was fixed so we headed back to the campsite. We knew that Henning and Ana would be going slowly and we would catch up with them tomorrow.

Ferry to West Bank of Nile

Getting out of Khartoum the following morning turned out being a complicated affair. The city centre itself was completely choked with traffic and nothing was moving. Once again a large protest about the UN presence in the Darfur had turned city streets into a giant parking lot. Since all the banners and shouting was in Arabic, we had no idea as to what the issues were. The crowd seemed friendly enough but one can never be sure what might cause that sentiment change when you are the only white face in the crowd. We were relieved when after an hour or so we found ourselves moving towards the outskirts of the city and over the Nile towards the ancient city of Omdurman.

GPS coupled with “tracks for Africa” navigation proved itself extremely useful yet once again. Without them, we might still be trying to find our way around the maze of crooked and narrow streets and alleyways that weave their ways around the souqs, mosques, and houses. Eventually we were staring at a strip of tarmac road, which sliced the red desert sands in half for as far as the eye could see. We were finally in the Sudanese desert heading towards Egypt. It was spectacular to drive through. We felt like we were flying over a Martian landscape. It felt strangely freeing and exhilarating, it was wonderful.

THE RIVER OF LIFE

Nubian Camel Herder

After travelling for about four hours through this vast sandy emptiness, the fertile banks of the Nile came into view. Palm trees and green fields lined the shores of the river of life. The road unfortunately also degenerated into a sandy corrugated and potholed track. This slowed our progress considerably, but it was not too long before we discovered that one of the clouds of dust ahead was Henning and Anna lumbering along in their large MAN truck. There were lots of high fives as we reconnected and we decided to start looking for a nice place to camp for the night. Camping in the desert was something we had been looking forward to for some time, but unfortunately, Mother Nature had other plans as vicious sand storm blew in.

Visibility was reduced to almost zero and sand wisps flew all around us. We were glad that we had a “snorkel” filtering the air that was entering our carburetor. The only way we could follow the road was by using the GPS for guidance. We stopped early to find a site to camp. Henning and Ana disappeared over the dune in search of that special spot. They did not get far before they were bogged down in sand and the task of getting them out began. With spades, sand ladders and lots of sweating we were able to finally to free the truck and set up camp.

Desert Camping

The storm was still blowing the following morning, but worse news was soon to come. On doing my daily vehicle inspection, I noticed hydraulic fluid leaking from the rear left wheel. This was the same brake I had fixed in Zambia, the repair had done well to last this long. However, that gave me no comfort since I was in the middle of the desert, miles from any kind of garage. The only thing to do was drive slowly and carefully the remainder of the way and use the brakes as seldom as possible. This would make the desert drive even more of a challenge. Africa was indeed throwing all it had at us.

At the village of Dongola, we took a ferry from the west to the east shore of the Nile River, where we would remain until reaching our destination of Wadi Halfa. It is difficult to describe the majesty of this river. We had seen both its sources at Jinja in Uganda (White Nile) and at Lake Tana in Ethiopia(Blue Nile), but seeing the river here in the middle of a sea of sand made it all the more spectacular. It is wide and powerful and supports many villages and communities along its journey to the Mediterranean. I really grew to love this ribbon of life as we drove its banks. It was like having a shoulder to lean on. Often we would be travelling down roads where one side of the vehicle was sandy and barren and the other lush green fields of wheat, fodder and other crops. The Nubian style villages had enclosed courtyards to protect the interiors from the blowing winds and they seemed strangely deserted since the inhabitants were mostly closeted in their courtyards.

Nile River Valley

For the next four days we bounced, rattled and jarred our way north through the desert. The road sometimes hugged the river and other times it veered so far east that the river was not visible at all. The road was challenging to drive. The corrugations threatened to shake every bolt loose. Between the corrugated portions, the road was either covered by deep soft sand or sharp rocky scree. It required continuous attention and it was slow going. We could only cover about 80-100kms a day, which meant that it would take 4-5 days to cover the 500kms from Dongola to Wadi Halfa. The beauty of the desert and the river was fair compensation however. Around every bend were spectacular vistas. Reds, blacks, whites, browns and greens all arranged themselves in enchanting patterns, a photographers dream. We camped amongst the dunes and enjoyed the clear starry desert nights, the crimson sunsets and the gentle dawns. Often curious Sudanese children would sit quietly around us, observing our every move and then slip away as if they had been a mirage. One group of children who engaged us found themselves getting an English counting lesson from Janet. They were probably hoping for some treats but they were keen and thrilled with their success of now being able to count to ten in English.

Wadi Halfa

The road was very desolate and we came across only a very few travelers. We met a cyclist who was cycling from Mongolia to Uganda, two retired Germans in a fancy camper van and local Sudanese transport trucks. We knew our friends Mark and Blanca were somewhere ahead but we still had not caught up with them. We were all getting tired, and the vehicles where starting to pay a price. Henning’s MAN truck had to be dug out twice more and it had broken suspension so we had to reduce our speed to about 20 kms/hr. The road seemed endless, and we thought certainly more difficult than the N. Kenyan Moyale road, which has the worse reputation.

We camped about 80kms from Wadi Halfa and there we heard from passing overlanders that Marc and Blanca where camped about half an hour ahead. They had run out of gas. Blanca was in charge of gas and prided herself on getting the last mile out of the last drop. The desert had aced her. Driving in sand always uses more gas than driving on the highway. Fortunately, they were travelling in convoy with some other overlanders, Ivan and Rachel, who traveled ahead to Wadi to get a couple of Jerry cans of gasoline. Blanca is still getting teased about that episode.

Cement Barge

WADI HALFA THE END OF THE EARTH

After five days of rough desert travelling, the blue sparkling waters of Lake Nasser came into view. The sight of so much fresh water in the middle of the desert takes ones breath away. The lake is approximately 400kms long and was built by the Egyptians with Russian financing in 1967, and the small Sudanese village of Wadi Halfa lies on its western shore. The dam’s main purpose is to control the annual Nile floods and generate hydroelectric power. The dam has caused all kinds of environmental problems, buried countless Egyptian temples and displaced thousands of Nubian people, but it is still very impressive. The significance of the dam to overlanders is that travelling by boat up its length is the only way to cross into Egypt from the Sudan. There is no passable Sudan and Egypt land border crossing.

Preparing Ramps

The logistics of this crossing are a real challenge especially when there are vehicles involved. Ferry service is weekly and cargo goes separately. It is expensive (US$500-$600) and the vessel’s conditions are dodgy. Fortunately, we were given the name of an agent, Mazaar, in Wadi-Halfa who could reportedly assist with arranging all the necessary paperwork required to make the crossing. On contacting Mazaar he informed us that a privately contracted cement carrying barge was returning to Aswan on the following Thursday and that it had room to carry the three cars and one truck that made up our party. We were thrilled, because not only could we travel together, but we could also remain with our vehicles, something that is not possible if you use the regular passenger ferry. The price was agreed to and all the necessary business associated with the crossing commenced. The cars had to be measured; customs cleared, carnets processed, tickets purchased etc. Every evening once our business in Wadi Halfa was completed we returned to the shores of Lake Nasser to camp for the night. It was a stunningly beautiful site, with towering sand dunes on one side and the blue waters of the lake on the other. Fishermen gave us some of their daily catch, which we barbecued for dinner, and camel herders grazed their camels on the sparse vegetation close to the shore. It was an idyllic time, a well earned rest after the arduous desert trek.

Finally, Thursday dawned and we arrived at Mazaar’s office at 8:30am to begin the process of boarding the barge. Well this being Africa, nothing happened until 2:00pm, when we were instructed to proceed to the harbour. After a few hours of paperwork, we drove to the loading dock, and our collectives jaws just dropped when we saw the vessel on which we had booked our passage. It was certainly not built to carry cars and passengers, and looked as if it was about 100 years old. It had no safety rails, was barely wide enough to fit a vehicle on and was covered in fine cement dust. It stood about four feet out of the water and two old rickety planks served as ramps, the only means of driving aboard. It was insane! This boat would have certainly been condemned and the crew fired for even thinking of undertaking such an unsafe operation in Canada. However, this was Africa, and to them this was simply another trip and the cargo would be just fine on their barge, of which they were duly proud.

All Aboard

I was informed that my vehicle was to be first on. Climbing into the car I felt a pang of anxiety. Janet turned and walked away, refusing to watch. I turned the key and with the help of Henning lined up the cruiser at the base of the rickety ramps. I did not inform the crew that I had only marginal brakes. I put the cruiser into low range and slowly made my way up the ramp. I could hear the wooden boards creaking as they took the strain. After what seemed like an interminable time, I was on the deck with only inches to spare, and I brought the cruiser to a halt. I’m sure that my sigh of relief was audible to the others on the jetty. We only had to do this three more times.

The most difficult maneuver was getting the oversized 7-ton MAN truck onto the barge. If the vehicles had only inches to spare there was certainly no room for error on the much bigger camper. We were not even sure that the ramps would support the weight. However, in the end Henning did a fine job of deftly driving his vehicle onto the barge and stopping with both the front and back just over the edge of the barge. The only problem was that his vehicle now blocked the way to the toilet, which was located at the stern of the barge. We would have to crawl under or go through the drivers cab if we needed to go. And for this, we paid $US600 each.

With all the cars secured only by handbrakes and sturdy ropes, we commenced our northward journey towards the Egyptian border. As we steered out into the calm waters of Lake Nasser, everybody busied themselves with setting their gear up, which turned out to be trickier that first thought. There was too much wind for us to put up our roof tent, and getting access to the rear of our vehicle was a death-defying event. A second barge then pulled along side, which they lassoed with ropes to our barge. The gap between the barges was large enough room for a person to slip overboard and never be seen again. Rachel and Ivan could not get their tent up either so they pitched a small tent in the hold after trying to sweep out most of the fine concrete dust. Aisha (the dog) was terrified and stayed inside the camper the entire trip.

3 Days Crossing

Once again, the scenery and starlit evenings made up for the rather primitive living conditions. As the miles slipped away, surrounding desert shorelines changed colors as the sun moved across the sky, magnificent Egyptian temples appeared in the distance and the gentle swaying and creaking of the boat hypnotized us. We even managed to stir up some appetizing meals. The crew was friendly and despite having only basic common language skills, we managed to learn something of each other’s lifestyles. The sweet Arabic mint tea they brewed was delicious, but it didn’t quite make up for the lack of a good chardonnay, which we could not have since Sudan is a dry Muslim country.

Early Saturday morning the Port of Aswan came into view. I felt a tinge of excitement mixed with some sadness. Excitement at knowing that we had made it safely to Egypt and sadness that this was the last country we were visiting in Africa. There was little time to reflect however because the daunting task of disembarking and entering Egypt was about to commence.