Market scene, NBD
Thursday, February 02, 2006
The long train wait
I had breakfast with everyone looking on in astonishment at me, I was still concerned that I shouldn't really be catching the train out today - out to the middle of nowhere. My eye was massively swollen as was that side of my forehead. However, they all agreed it was an allergic reaction to the bite, so I found some paramol in my bag that I had left over from when I took my godson, Kurt, to Morocco previously. He's allergic to wasps and these anti-histimines might do the trick. Still unsure, I did something I've never done before, I rarely travel with my phone, but I got it out and dialled New Zealand and spoke to Kurt's mum who's a nurse in Invercargill Hospital. After a short 40second phone call, I popped a paramol and continued to do so every 3hrs during the day, by the next morning I was back to normal.
Alex left with Gianni carrying her pack for her to go and meet Massimo whilst I got organised. Going out to the market with Gianni to get provisions for the train, I wore my sunglasses everywhere to cover the bite!! Julian went off to write his website and unbeknown to us hadn't done any shopping for the train, just as well we had more than enough to see us through, or so we thought!
We eventually found a taxi to take us out to the station for 50UM. The previous day we'd paid 80UM to go out to Kosando a few kilometres past the station, all the taxi drivers suddenly saw a window of opportunity and wanted between 200-300UM to take us to the station, it took a while to find an honest one!
On getting out there at 1pm to meet the 2pm train, we found ourselves strangely alone, apart from two guys loading up a donkey cart with empty barrels. Just before 2pm the 'station' started filling up with other passengers and a few soldiers, four women came along to set up their stalls with food & water. Julian went up to the ladies and asked them in English for some bread, as had been previously pointed out, no one understands English so Gianni and I acted as interpreters. The ticket seller was nowhere to be seen, things were looking a bit grim ...
It looked as if we were in for a long wait!
Alex left with Gianni carrying her pack for her to go and meet Massimo whilst I got organised. Going out to the market with Gianni to get provisions for the train, I wore my sunglasses everywhere to cover the bite!! Julian went off to write his website and unbeknown to us hadn't done any shopping for the train, just as well we had more than enough to see us through, or so we thought!
We eventually found a taxi to take us out to the station for 50UM. The previous day we'd paid 80UM to go out to Kosando a few kilometres past the station, all the taxi drivers suddenly saw a window of opportunity and wanted between 200-300UM to take us to the station, it took a while to find an honest one!
On getting out there at 1pm to meet the 2pm train, we found ourselves strangely alone, apart from two guys loading up a donkey cart with empty barrels. Just before 2pm the 'station' started filling up with other passengers and a few soldiers, four women came along to set up their stalls with food & water. Julian went up to the ladies and asked them in English for some bread, as had been previously pointed out, no one understands English so Gianni and I acted as interpreters. The ticket seller was nowhere to be seen, things were looking a bit grim ...
It looked as if we were in for a long wait!
It got worse ...
We waited, saw most of the men pray at least twice during our stay on the concrete benches, a few locomotives go past and then finally the train came - going the wrong way, but a good sign was that it was loaded up with iron ore (complete with passengers riding for free on top). This was about 4pm so we decided it would be a good hour or so until it came back.
There was nothing to do, it was a little frustrating as we could have spent more time in NBD, but the risk of going back into town and then missing the train was too great.
Eventually the ticket seller turned up just before dusk, sold us a seat each for 2,500UM and we felt a little more relieved that the train might just come before the morning!
The worlds longest train, operated by the Anglo-French mining company SNIM, turned up at 8pm, there was a sudden rush of passengers to it, everyone dying to get on, police were at the door trying to calm the chaos. I climbed in (it was a climb to get up to the carriage from the sand below!) and grabbed a seat in the first compartment opposite a couple of men, Gianni soon joined me and we held the final seat for Julian.
The stench of the carriage was unbelievable, I've been on a few trains across India, the Trans-Siberian and other locales but this was incredible. I had been warned that if we got a train with couchettes to have something to lie on as the couchettes were filthy dirty. As long as we got to Choum I thought I could put up with it and dozed off to sleep against the window. Julian did the same at the other end of the three seats and Gianni went out into the aisle to join some Mauritanian mine workers for tea all night. By 2am I'd given up on sleep and left Julian dozing in his chair whilst I went out to join Gianni and chat to the guys. The train had an awful sudden heaving motion, which was what woke me up, probably because of it's length. Just having been handed a glass of tea, not holding onto any of the rails it did it again and I threw my tea over my hosts and with them went flying about 3metres down the aisle.
There was nothing to do, it was a little frustrating as we could have spent more time in NBD, but the risk of going back into town and then missing the train was too great.
Eventually the ticket seller turned up just before dusk, sold us a seat each for 2,500UM and we felt a little more relieved that the train might just come before the morning!
The worlds longest train, operated by the Anglo-French mining company SNIM, turned up at 8pm, there was a sudden rush of passengers to it, everyone dying to get on, police were at the door trying to calm the chaos. I climbed in (it was a climb to get up to the carriage from the sand below!) and grabbed a seat in the first compartment opposite a couple of men, Gianni soon joined me and we held the final seat for Julian.
The stench of the carriage was unbelievable, I've been on a few trains across India, the Trans-Siberian and other locales but this was incredible. I had been warned that if we got a train with couchettes to have something to lie on as the couchettes were filthy dirty. As long as we got to Choum I thought I could put up with it and dozed off to sleep against the window. Julian did the same at the other end of the three seats and Gianni went out into the aisle to join some Mauritanian mine workers for tea all night. By 2am I'd given up on sleep and left Julian dozing in his chair whilst I went out to join Gianni and chat to the guys. The train had an awful sudden heaving motion, which was what woke me up, probably because of it's length. Just having been handed a glass of tea, not holding onto any of the rails it did it again and I threw my tea over my hosts and with them went flying about 3metres down the aisle.
Choum's 13 seater Landcruisers
Now the fun really started, here we were at 5am,in the cold. We had quite a few vehicles come out from Choum (in the distance) to meet the train, they drove us back to Choum, a dusty little place, if you've never been here, you've not missed much!
Then we started negioations to get a seat to Atar in a taxi. There was a Land Cruiser being loaded up with luggage etc, I helped out along with Gianni to get everything in place ready to go. We got a place each organised, then climbed. Taller than both Gianni & Julian at 5'10, I found it difficult being seated in the boot of a Land Cruiser with 5 men sharing the space with me, there were 3 women and a child across the back seat and a couple sharing the front passenger seat. Space was an issue and my knees were already starting to give me hell and my head was trying to dent the ceiling with each bump we went over.
The driver was trying to be the next Schumacher in his Land Cruiser, so overloaded with people with cargo and luggage on the roof, there were a few scary moments in between our breakdowns every 3km. Having completed no more than 25km in 2.5hrs we were suddenly exposed in the desert with nothing nearby and not a vehicle in sight of course. A pick up suddenly came into view and helped our driver with the mechanics .. we did another 2km when the driver had had enough and asked the pick up driver to take us all to Atar. So, with 10 already on the pick up with twice as much cargo as we had, we became 22 on a pick up with luggage and cargo, including a plastic bucket filled with fish someone had brought from NBD! I sat at the back on top of my pack fighting with the bar that was jerking into my ribs with every bump. After an incredulous 6hr drive (normally 3hrs) we finally saw Atar!
Then we started negioations to get a seat to Atar in a taxi. There was a Land Cruiser being loaded up with luggage etc, I helped out along with Gianni to get everything in place ready to go. We got a place each organised, then climbed. Taller than both Gianni & Julian at 5'10, I found it difficult being seated in the boot of a Land Cruiser with 5 men sharing the space with me, there were 3 women and a child across the back seat and a couple sharing the front passenger seat. Space was an issue and my knees were already starting to give me hell and my head was trying to dent the ceiling with each bump we went over.
The driver was trying to be the next Schumacher in his Land Cruiser, so overloaded with people with cargo and luggage on the roof, there were a few scary moments in between our breakdowns every 3km. Having completed no more than 25km in 2.5hrs we were suddenly exposed in the desert with nothing nearby and not a vehicle in sight of course. A pick up suddenly came into view and helped our driver with the mechanics .. we did another 2km when the driver had had enough and asked the pick up driver to take us all to Atar. So, with 10 already on the pick up with twice as much cargo as we had, we became 22 on a pick up with luggage and cargo, including a plastic bucket filled with fish someone had brought from NBD! I sat at the back on top of my pack fighting with the bar that was jerking into my ribs with every bump. After an incredulous 6hr drive (normally 3hrs) we finally saw Atar!
Atar & the evil Karim
Reaching Atar at 1pm, it was hot, very hot. No one was outside and it gave a creepy appearance to the town. The pick up left us in the taxi rank and a driver offered to take us out to Chinguetti for 12,000UM we tried to bargain him down; he wasn't having any of it. We knew the price should be 2,000UM a head to get out to Chinguetti another 2hrs away.
We walked to a house where we were told there was a pick up taxi usually waiting to go out to Chinguetti, it was behind the little street market. On arriving there, no one was around and there certainly wasn't a pick up. Armed with a bottle of water each we walked down the main street towards the roundabout and found a little restaurant run by a Moroccan guy from Larache. A good omen for me, I love Larache, a town on the NW coast of Morocco about 2hrs south of Tangiers. We decided to stop there and get something to eat. I was desperate to get my jeans off which had a pair of three-quarter length cotton trousers underneath so I was incredibly hot with the extra layer that I'd donned in NBD just before the train came to keep me warm overnight.
Chilling out at a table in front of the restaurant, Gianni & I were chatting with the owner, Julian had told him that he came from Canada as he was feeling a little insecure to declare himself an American in Mauritania .. with lots of banter going on we didn't see the Mercedes taxi pull up beside us.
Suddenly a large man sat down on the table next to us and starting talking to Gianni, he had a friend with him and a young guy who he told us was 'his driver'. Karim asked us if we wanted to go to Chinguetti, we asked how much and were offered 2,500UM a head with only 4 of us in a taxi. I agreed that if we could have the taxi as a '4-seater' rather than the normal 6-seater then I was prepared to pay the extra 500UM to get out to Chinguetti.
We piled into the taxi ... despite my tiredness I could still count .. there were 5 of us, Gianni had offered me the front passenger seat to give me some leg room, but in the back there was Karim & his friend making the back seat rather squashed for Julian & Gianni. I took umbrage abou this, I told him in no uncertain terms that we had agreed to pay the extra to give us room, Karim's friend suddenly got rather upset with my comments and an argument ensued between him, Karim and I. Gianni joined in as he was in the middle between Karim & Julian and exhausted from not sleeping on the train and was upset I was getting all the flack; Julian of course didn't understand a word of what was going on and was ready to sleep off his lunch. The friend told the driver to stop and jumped out of the car storming off into the dusty streets of Atar.
The whole way to Chinguetti, Karim sat crosslegged on the seat, still making it rather tight for Gianni & Julian, I was feeling rather guilty having the front seat to myself but Gianni wouldn't let me move into the back. We past the police check point with the minimum of fuss and whilst Gianni was gone I suggested that Julian take the middle seat and let Gianni get some sleep beside the window, the retort I got was 'why should I give up my seat?' despite my pointing out that Gianni had been in the same predicament on the train, hence he hadn't slept!
We walked to a house where we were told there was a pick up taxi usually waiting to go out to Chinguetti, it was behind the little street market. On arriving there, no one was around and there certainly wasn't a pick up. Armed with a bottle of water each we walked down the main street towards the roundabout and found a little restaurant run by a Moroccan guy from Larache. A good omen for me, I love Larache, a town on the NW coast of Morocco about 2hrs south of Tangiers. We decided to stop there and get something to eat. I was desperate to get my jeans off which had a pair of three-quarter length cotton trousers underneath so I was incredibly hot with the extra layer that I'd donned in NBD just before the train came to keep me warm overnight.
Chilling out at a table in front of the restaurant, Gianni & I were chatting with the owner, Julian had told him that he came from Canada as he was feeling a little insecure to declare himself an American in Mauritania .. with lots of banter going on we didn't see the Mercedes taxi pull up beside us.
Suddenly a large man sat down on the table next to us and starting talking to Gianni, he had a friend with him and a young guy who he told us was 'his driver'. Karim asked us if we wanted to go to Chinguetti, we asked how much and were offered 2,500UM a head with only 4 of us in a taxi. I agreed that if we could have the taxi as a '4-seater' rather than the normal 6-seater then I was prepared to pay the extra 500UM to get out to Chinguetti.
We piled into the taxi ... despite my tiredness I could still count .. there were 5 of us, Gianni had offered me the front passenger seat to give me some leg room, but in the back there was Karim & his friend making the back seat rather squashed for Julian & Gianni. I took umbrage abou this, I told him in no uncertain terms that we had agreed to pay the extra to give us room, Karim's friend suddenly got rather upset with my comments and an argument ensued between him, Karim and I. Gianni joined in as he was in the middle between Karim & Julian and exhausted from not sleeping on the train and was upset I was getting all the flack; Julian of course didn't understand a word of what was going on and was ready to sleep off his lunch. The friend told the driver to stop and jumped out of the car storming off into the dusty streets of Atar.
The whole way to Chinguetti, Karim sat crosslegged on the seat, still making it rather tight for Gianni & Julian, I was feeling rather guilty having the front seat to myself but Gianni wouldn't let me move into the back. We past the police check point with the minimum of fuss and whilst Gianni was gone I suggested that Julian take the middle seat and let Gianni get some sleep beside the window, the retort I got was 'why should I give up my seat?' despite my pointing out that Gianni had been in the same predicament on the train, hence he hadn't slept!
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