I Told You So !!!

HaHaHa! Sorry but I just couldn't resist it... Following on from my post yesterday, having left Banjul at around 2pm, an hour os so later my phone rings and it is Anita informing me that as expected Emily and Co have had a puncture just the other side of Soma (about and hour ahead of us) and are stranded by the roadside as the driver has no spare wheel... I didn't laugh... well not too much anyway!

Arriving on the scene we find the ladies looking a little hot and bothered with the car now repaired but heading in the wrong direction... The driver didn't even get out of the vehicle. Looking at the tyres I am amazed to find that the vehicle is fitted with three Scandinavian metal studded snow tyres! Hmm! snow is something we don't encounter in Gambia very often !!!

Our new passengers travel light so it took but a few minutes to transfer their bags to the back of our vehicle and we were away. With a little over 2 hours of driving left before arrival at Bansang we relaxed in the intense heat of the afternoon whilst Sutay, our driver, did his usual magnificent job at the wheel. We dropped them off at Paradise and I then headed home for a much needed shower before popping over to see what, if any, progress had been made during mu absence. I was fairly pleased to find that two of the new aluminium doors were fitted and working smoothly, the lights along the central walkway were all working and the fourth shower was tiled, although no attempt had been made to rectify the problem with the two poorly fitted units. So I think today I will be on site all day, pushing, cajoling, bullying and generally harassing Morro to try to get things moving a lot faster....

We are not Amused!

So Near yet So Far !!!

Whilst Bansang may be on steroids under the dynamic leadership of new CEO BaBa Jeng, Morro’s merry men appear to be on a go slow. So before leaving for Banjul yesterday I had to sit down with him and read him the riot act! I‘m just hoping and praying that he continues to work at the pace he was going when I left at lunchtime !! I left with Morro a list of items which I wanted either completed or in a few cases  (i.e. removal of building rubble) at least started. I really had hoped that the children would have all been back in the newly refurbished section before Anita left for home but it wasn't to be.

I’m not really sure what the problem is but his team of workers seems to have shrunk by over half and the frenetic pace of the early weeks of the work has become more akin to the pace of the maintenance guys and it is sooo frustrating as the first phase of the work is so very nearly complete. Apart from the work on the showers and toilets there are only very small finishing bits to do, which whilst easy with an empty ward, become almost impossible once it is full of children… And speaking of full; the top section of the ward is now just about full to bursting point with the bays which usually contain 6 beds each now holding up to 9 beds each; it is utter chaos, but through it all the nursing staff keep smiling and I still haven’t heard a word of complaint from them. 

So this morning I after a leisurely breakfast with head of theatres, Sulayman, who is coming across from the University to see us, I head into the commercial heart of Banjul to find builders merchants and electrical stores before trying to meet up with a potential new window supplier. Yes, we have finally had enough too of Ahmed and his lame excuses as to why he never returns phone calls or turns up when arranged to fit windows so I’m kicking him into touch and voting with my feet for another suppier.

Last nights meal at Luigis, was, as always when Anita is involved, a working dinner with the Project Manager and Audiologist from Sound Seekers joining us to discuss their Gambian project and more particularly their proposals for the new Audiology Unit at Bansang, which at the moment sits empty and forlorn at the hospital. Today, they too head up to Bansang although in transport that they have arranged with driver ( an Audi A6 !!!) After much negotiating and changing of minds they ended up with a slightly better price that the hospital’s, I just hope they don’t live to regret the decision as the driver did not appear to have the faintest idea of where or how far Bansang was relative to Banjul. However, as I cruelly commented to them at least as they are leaving much earlier that Sutay and I, we could pick them up enroute if they encounter problems. LOL

Another reason that I am now redoubling my efforts to push Morro along is that my deadline for departure from Bansang is approaching rapidly! With the first of the full meeting of the 2013 Scoots team scheduled for the first weekend in July and much organisation and preparation for it still to do, I really need to be home by the end on June at the latest. Ideally I am hoping to make the return trip at a slightly less hectic pace; not that I was riding fast, I was just doing too much mileage every day and want to start getting back to the “Joel Philosophy “ of travel in readiness for my trip to Poland with Allie straight after the Scoots meet ! I am also hoping to spend a couple of day at the Zebrabar working on the second chapter of the new book… However, I don’t then need to spend too much time in Morroco and can if need be head straight up the coast or even, God forbid, hop onto the motorway all the way from Agadir to Tangier… but I’d far rather head along the desert roads through Erfoud and run along the Mediterranean  coast through the Rif mountains to get to the coast. But it all depends on Morro as I really don’t want to leave once more with the work unfinished… so I feel a lot of stress heading my way over the next two weeks…. But then I guess that’s the role of a Project Manager for you !!!

But it's not been all work, as Sunday saw Anita and I join the merry throng for the final part of Abdouli and Halima's wedding, the opening and display of the "wedding suitcase" containing the wardrobe of clothes, perfume and make-up that the groom has to provide for his new bride (at least we think and hope it is the final part !!!) The revelers from the hospital all arrived at Anita's house, complete with the drummers, to collect us. Anita and I in our newly made traditional Gambian clothes., at which point all 25 of us piled into one of the Ambulances for the short ride to the Brides compound. I'm not sure if 25 in an ambulance is a record but it must be pretty close... and all the while the drummers drummed and the women sang! It was an incredible experience and with the intense heat and humidity i am amazed that nobody fainted with heat stroke.... Once at the compound the drumming, singing and dancing intensified, as dis the heat! In the confines of the compound walls with no trace of a breath of wind, crammed in with over 100 other guests the heat was almost unbearable, but stoically we stuck it out with Anita even joining in the dancing at one point. 

Once the formalities were over and we felt we could safely escape we grapped a bush taxi back to base and a nice cold shower...

Bansang's on Steroids !

What a difference 3 weeks makes…. Yes, that’s all I’ve been away from the Hospital (in fact, that is the longest I’ve been away from here this year !!! ) And I arrive to find the new CEO Baba Jeng officially installed and wasting no time in getting the place ship shape and Bristol fashion! In just a few days the amount of changes and new initiatives he has introduced are quite staggering. To say that we (Anita and I) are impressed would be a massive understatement! And that is just his opening volley… WoW ! I don’t know where the Ministry of Health have been hiding him (well I do actually it was at Farrafenni !)

The only problem we have with him is his energy… I think Anita may well have to find a younger , fitter, faster Project Manager to keep up with him! In a day and a bit we have been whisked around the hospital at break-neck speed; had meetings with heads of staff teams, met with Ministry officials, watched as the maintenance team actually worked on Friday afternoon! And stood in awe as he tackled problem after problem, most of which had needed sorting for years… and that’s just 36 hours, Phew! I think, no, I know Bansang Hospital is in for a big a wake up call!

So what of the building work I hear you cry… Well, if I’m to be brutally honest,  I’m a little disappointed with the progress. I feared that it would happen but hoped it wouldn’t, but it seems even Morro’s Merry Men slow down somewhat when my beady eye is not on them. Certainly there has been quite a lot of progress; all the block work is complete, the floor tiles in the newly built shower block is all done; all the windows in the lower section are installed but many still need gap filling. Tomorrow, Morro heads off to Banjul to collect doors, sinks, toilet pans and a variety of other bits required to finish at least the lower section completely (hopefully!). By Monday night he should be back on the job, but you can be sure I’ll be watching progress like a hawk! Our aim is to have the children back in the nice, shiny, refurbished part of the ward by the end of the coming week. That will then leave just two weeks to get the top section sorted before I head home… and believe me, it WILL happen. 

At the other end of the hospital grounds on Project Mite House, once more progress has been somewhat slower than I would have liked, but then I’m an impatient bugger at the best of times… again, all the block work is very nearly complete, most of the openings that are needed for doors and windows have been made, so progress should now be a little more rapid and apparent! Today will be a quite day as Morro heads off to the coast this morning on a Gella Gella, so we will also be taking the chance to hopefully (there’s that word again) have at least part of the day off.  It’s hard to believe that it is two weeks today since I set sail from Plymouth, and other than the 24hrs on the boat, I haven’t stopped since! Once I had finished my recce in Morocco I just pushed on down to Laayoune to try for the higher entry into Mauritania, which in the event proved to be a non-starter as the road (and border) have been sealed. So short of riding through the actual mine field… well, I’m sure you get the picture! With that option off the agenda I had nothing else to keep me on the road and just point the bike south and pushed on.

However, I think I was still in Western Sahara last time I posted so I’d better fill in the last few days…

My last stop in Western Sahara was about 100Km north of the border at a rather strange desert hotel which was of course full of people in transit. I left bright and early, which gave me my first opportunity to try out my nice new LED spot lights which I had fitted just prior to leaving the UK. Dawn was about half an hour away as I pulled out of the hotel car park and headed south for the Mauritanian border and the dreaded no man’s land of the minefield crossing. The road was almost devoid of traffic and the temperature was perfect. In fact I arrived too early as the border didn’t open until 9am but I still managed to ride right to the front of the already fairly long queue and was first through the gate as it opened… not that it did me a lot of good! I’ve realised that I’m just too British when it comes to queuing African style and I ended up way down the line at the first customs window with my passport. I’d forgotten about the odd system whereby you put you passport on the window cill and watch it get slowly shuffled along to the tiny gap where a hand occasionally pops out to pick one up or of course to return it to it’s waiting owner. Once through that little hurdle which is in fact immigration, you then head across to the Customs office where they have a cursory glance at the bike and stamp it out of the country. Next come the Police, another look at the passport and I’m away… well almost! Just one more check as I actually go through the exit barrier and say goodbye to Morocco (yes, I know that you and I still call it Western Sahara, but to the Moroccans, it is most definitely now Morocco!)

And this is where the fun starts as you head of into the “Mad Max” world of no-man’s land, a strip of land  about a quarter of a mile wide, cleared (?) of mines  but littered with just about everything else you care to think of. It appears to be dumping ground for old vehicles, possible stolen, all burnt out and stripped of anything that could conceivably be of use to anyone. Add to that heaps of broken TV’s, stereos, computers and various other detritus of modern life. Through this chaos one has to try to find a route missing areas of very soft sand, stray mines (only joking!) and the “chancers” that all trying to scam a few dirhams from you.  All was going really well, it’s really not that difficult to find the way through, until I hit some soft sand. I gave the old girl some welly on the throttle to pull it through, when suddenly something sort of went “pop” and she dropped one cylinder. Just what I didn’t need at that particular point. Anyway she did me proud, still having enough grunt on the one remaining cylinder to pull out of the sand.

Stopping on more solid ground I did a quick check and discovered that the throttle cable to the right cylinder had broken. Not too big a problem as I always carry at least one spare along with a clutch cable and various other odds and sods. My dilemma was simply whether to fixe it where I was or to get through to Mauritania first and then sort it… I decided to chance my luck and push on, it only a couple of Km between the border posts and I was already nearly half way through.  It’s not a place where you can rush anyway, so speed and lack of power really weren’t a problem so I just picked out a 40ft Artic unit which was ambling through and followed at a discreet distance knowing that he wouldn’t be liking soft sand any more than I would. As the comms mast at the Mauri border came closer I heaved a sigh of relief and set to on another round of “pass the parcel” with my documents to another set of miserable, offhand border officials. I know I’ve said it before on posts, but why oh why do we always get greeted into a new country by such a morose, humourless, miserable bunch of border police and customs people. Admittedly, the UK is generally far better in this respect that even the best of the rest, but even ours could sometime do with a personality implant not to mention a little “common sense” training…

Once through with all the formalities I headed off to the main road in a sand storm to try to find a bit of shelter under which to work on my little problem. In fact, much to my surprise the cable hadn’t broken as I had thought , but the twist grip end had slipped from its little holder. However I had known it was frayed for some time so made the decision to change it anyway. As with most “little” jobs it took about 4 time as long as I would have thought mainly due to wear on the little holder into which the ends of the two cables have to sit. I was wary of squeezing it together (which is what it really needed) just in case it broke, now that would have been something of a bigger problem, although I’m sure I’d have cobbled something together. Eventually I got the cables fitted snugly into the right place bolted everything up, adjusted the card ends of the cables to get the card balance correct and off I went with the old girl running better than ever! My only problem then, was that between the border crossing and the repairs I had lost about 4 ½ hours of my day so getting right through Mauritania in a day, which had been my original plan was simply not going to happen. Oh well! I’ll just go with the flow and see where I end up for the night. I knew that once south of the capital, Nouakchott wild camping spots were plentiful and I was confident that I could clear the capital without too much of a problem.

I kept a steady pace all day long on the mainly arrow straight strip of tarmac that runs the length of Mauritania, around 90 to 100kph is plenty on these road as you never know when the surface is going to suddenly deteriorate and break up, or you may come across deep sand blown across from the dunes, or of course the odd, stray camel may wander into your path as you drift along. And besides, what’s the rush?, the faster you travel, the less you see, so a nice steady pace does me very nicely thank you… and of course ir was still way faster than we usually cross it on the C90s !!! In fact the area of Mauritania below Nouakchott has seen an awful lot of development over the past few years, so contrary to expectations finding a good wild camp was not at all easy, then I spotted an Auberg so decided to take the easy (soft?) option. At least allowed me to get another early start for the border to cross to Senegal… that was where I made my first, and hopefully last, big mistake.

Over the years we have always taken the Diama crossing point, putting us in easy reach of the Zebrabar. However, Moulay, the customs guy has got ever more greedy with his demands so against all advice I thought I would try the dreaded and much maligned Rosso! What a mistake to make! It was everything I had been warned of and more. If you add the chaos of the Banjul-Barra ferry to the mayhem of the Moroccan border crossing, mix in  more Del Boy scammers than you can shake a stick at, you might get some inkling of an idea of the scene. Suffice it to say that my mistake cost me plenty, in both time and more importantly, money! One thing is for sure I won’t be using that one again…. In fact my initial reaction was that I would NEVER be coming through Senegal borders again. Oh well, I guess I’ve always been a little prone to over-reaction! But the time wasted here meant that yet again my plans were to be thwarted, as there was now no chance of me making Bansang by nightfall, and I had another border to cross on the way.

The riding through Senegal is always good, with lots to see and mainly good roads, so my mood gradually lightened as the day progressed inspite of suddenly finding that I had no map of Senegal with me and my GPS routing wouldn’t take me where I wanted to go, but I’ve been through the country enough times to know roughly where I was going and so it turned out that I pushed on South East to find the road to Faraffeni and The Gambia. Late in the afternoon I started looking for camping spots, not wanting to stop too early, nor to leave it so late that I would be searching in the dark which is never easy. Once south of Diourbel the countryside opened out to give lots of places to camp and I pulled well off the road to settle down for the night. Sleep came easy in the peace of the Senegalese countryside inspite of the heat radiating through the base of my tent, which turned it into a sauna! As usual I was up as the first light of a new dawn crept towards the horizon. Breakfast was a cup of water with a little rather dry bread and a Laughing Cow cheese triangle, meagre maybe but it got me on the road faster and heading on for The Gambia and of course Bansang. I crossed the last border without incident (or payment) and started the last leg of my ride along the North Bank road. This proved to be a little slower than I would have thought as every police check point wanted to look over the bike and talk about the trip. So I finally arrived in Bansang at about lunchtime to the usual incredible welcome from my “Gambian family”

To summarize the ride down, I must admit that it was not quite what I had reckoned on. Whilst the Airhead performed faultlessly (apart from the clutch cable) It didn’t make the trip any easier than it is on the C90, and being back to traveling alone is as always something that takes  little time to settle into.  Added to that was the self-imposed pressure of wanting to get to Bansang and see just what had, or had not, been done in the Paediatric ward in my absence which definitely detracted from the joy of the ride.  Will I be doing it again on the big bike… probably not if I’m really honest although I wont completely rule out the possibility of doing it in some other way….only time will tell!

Dispatches from the Western Sahara

The entrance to Tan Tan

With a run of 788Km that puts most of Western Sahara behind me and also makes to longest run of the trip so far… Intent on not only getting through the border in the morning but also running through most of Mauritamtia, I needed to get fairly close to the border before I stopped for the night, The wind has been blowing really strongly all day and as you might guess, right where I didn’t want it, in my face… On the odd occasions when the road swung around a bit it was a great ride, but for most of the day it was a case of hang on and grit your teeth!

Last night was spent at the wonderful Camping de Bedouin camp site just above Laayoune which Debs found for us in Camping Maroc on our return trip last year. It really is quite a special place. To get there you turn right off of the main road along 4.5Km of piste which winds it’s way across the desert to end up overlooking a dry salt lake. 100metres from the site is also a calcified waterfall which is quite spectacular. Already on site were Tils and Carmen from Austria in a wonderfully converted old Mercedes truck with an ex-military pod on the back. 

I’m nor sure how long they had been on the road but the list of African countries they had visited was very impressive; and also Alain, a Frenchman of even greater vintage than I, traveling alone with his dog in a 4.2lt V8 Lancruiser prepped to  a standard that would put many a few Dakar Rally entrants to shame. It was encouraging to see that neither his age nor diminutive stature in any way dented his enthusiasm for travelling the Pistes of Morocco, or anywhere else he

fancies by the sound of it. The evening spent in the company of these incredible people brought home to me why it is that I enjoy travel so much. As I said the other day, sharing a journey with someone special makes all the difference to a trip. Meeting special people on the way also adds an incalculable aspect to life on the road. The one thing all these people share is a zest and an enthusiasm for life which is most definitely contagious! Whilst Alain was on his way almost before I had finished breakfast, Tils and Carmen were staying put today and oh how I would have loved to tarry a whilst to listen to some more of their adventures… but the road was calling. Anita has a last minute change of plane and is even now probably enjoying dinner at Luigi’s in the company of the new CEO from Bansang, Baba Jeng, so having completed what I wanted to do in Morocco it is time to get my skates on and see what Morro has been up to in my absence. I only hope he has done me proud and the results satisfy “The Boss” !

So where am I tonight I hear you shout! Well, I’m in the Hotel Barbas in a tiny little place that isn’t even marked on any of my maps but is about 150Km short of the Mauritanian border. As I said at the start the wind is howling and a full blown sand storm was raging as I pulled in. It seems to be abating a little now but I was a little afraid of being whisked up in the air on the wind and hang-gliding out to sea still wrapped in my tent so took the soft option; at 200 Dirams or about £18 it seemed a good option. I’ve just stuffed myself on Chicken Tagine (at £3.00) and I’m about to order a coffee as no alcohol is on offer… Drat!

It also works out well being in a hotel for the night as I’m after a really early start tomorrow to get through the border ,and if that goes OK it will be another long day riding through most of Mauritania. Look out Bansang, I’m on my way!  

Funny how the mood takes you some days; Today was probably the day I was most looking forward to on this trip. I’ve done the run across the Atlas mountains many times but doing it on the Airhead  is something I’ve long wanted to do, but…. Well I don’t really know what the “but” is to be honest. I awoke early as usual but in what I can only describe as a bit of a melancholy mood. Every other time I have been to Marrakech and the High Atlas it has been with friends, wives or lovers (not necessarily in that order!). Going right back to my first ever visit in 1969 the trips have always left me with many, many happy memories, but now, this trip, on my own…well that something (someone?) special is missing and far too many old memories are being stirred. My next  mistake was to try some music, a first for this trip, but Celine Dion was definitely not a good choice as I just sunk further into the blue funk! Sitting now at the little café right at the top of the Tizi n Test pass, my thoughts turn to years gone by, so many, so fast, and the euphoria I had on starting the trip seems to have just drained away. Oh well! Perhaps I’ll just slip back into “the groove” later in the day.

I eventually stirred my bones back into action, after all there is only so much mint tea one can drink, and headed down the southern side of the pass. The sun was shinning, but the temperature wasn’t too hot, there was some traffic coming up to meet me but not too much, the scenery was great but… well I’d seen it all before and I was still finding the riding just hard work. Finally I got to the bottom and the road straightened and flattened, I pushed on. Waymarking the spot where we tend wild camp, I stopped to check the map to make sure that I knew where I was heading ! GPS is great, but I still like to know which towns and roads it is going to send me along… just in case! I still had about 170Km to go before I reached Tafraoute and I was still hadn’t found the “zone” . I stopped for an ice cream and a bottle of ice cold water, thinking that a bit of dehydration might be the problem, although with the amount of mint tea I had taken after lunch I didn’t really think that it cure my problem, however , at least it was an excuse to stop for a few minutes.

I removed my heavy jacket as the heat had increased considerably now that I was at a lower altitude. I guess it was still the effect of my minor spill on the C90 a couple of weeks ago but I felt unusually vulnerable, quite strange  seeing as I spent the best part of 3 months riding in Greece in just jeans and teeshirt!  I turned left off of the main road heading more or less due south, it was a good road without too many twists and turns and I started at last to settle down into the ride. At the little desert town of Igherm I turned right oto a very much small road, the line on my map was so faint it was almost non-existant. I just hoped it didn’t disintegrate into a gravel track, I was in no mood to go “off-roading”. My luck held though and it was once more, up and over, on a beautiful little road that I wouldn’t have contemplated taking from looking at the map! Today my GPS was being benevolent and showing me her good side, but just like the lady she undoubtedly is, you can never tell how long that will last !!!!

As I closed on Tafraoute, I spotted a sign on my right indicating a cam site at the rear of a hotel, it wasn’t the one I was looking for, but it looked good enough to me… and I was the only camper! As I was being greeted by the Patron, I nearly fell of my bike as an English guy appeared and said “hello” who was the absolute doppelganger of one of my friends back in Wales. He and his wife were also bikers, but staying in the hotel rather being cheapskate like myself and camping and of course they were riding…. What else but a R1200GS, you just can’t get away from the damn things… However I spent a very pleasant evening with them talking all things Morocco and bike. Amazingly they were Londoners but now living in Pembrokeshire and we had a mutual acquaintance in the form of my old IAM instructor John Codd. And so to bed, lets just hope I get up on the right side of the tent tomorrow and find my mojo….