Day 145: It’s Gonna Cost Ya…

25.05.09: And so my journey took me to the most expensive country so far. More expensive than Japan, Norway and London PUT TOGETHER. I am talking, of course(?), about Senegal. The Sept-Place taxi that took me to the border (as any who half a brain cell should be able to work out) is designed to take seven passengers. Mine took FOURTEEN. After a good few hours of that (and the fact we stopped every few seconds to pay some corrupt policeman a bribe), I was ready to kill, kill and kill again, but now I had the border to negotiate. Sorry mate, it's closed until 3pm. What? Yeah, closed. What for? Lunch? I looked at my watch. 12:15pm. A calculation in my head - if I wait until 3, I'll get into Dakar about 11 at night. Dakar, first time, by myself, at 11pm. Hmm... Okay,…

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Day 144: Er, Why Are You Here?

24.05.09: I stayed in Auberge Du Sahara camping in Dahkla and would thoroughly recommend it. It only cost about a fiver and they even made me dinner. In the morning, twas another bit of shared taxi malarkey to the border. There I met Michel, a French guy heading to Dakar in his van. He took me the killer 3km over no-mans land, and there we waited. And waited. And waited. We had arrived at the border around 11am. By 4pm we had finally got our passports stamped into Maur-f-ing-tania. Seriously. Was the border very busy? Was it hell. I've seen more people at a pro-paedophile rally in a sink estate in Croydon. There is an old Moroccan proverb, A guest is a gift from God. I think there's also a Mauritanian proverb. A guest is about as wanted as blood in your stool. Can I recommend…

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Day 139: The Mauritania Disaster

19.05.09: Yawning and creaking, I staggered off the bus. It was still dark in Dahkla. After a particularly weird conversation involving the local police and a desert taxi driver (implying I would have to wait three days for a shared taxi to the border), I parted with 130 Euro [CHINNNNG! See those gold rings fly!] to hire all six places in the desert taxi. It's four hours drive to the border, so I kinda justified the cost - there is no real public transport, it's shared taxi or nothing, and if you ain't got nobody to share... Only (I found out later) I think the cop meant that I would have to wait three hours, not three days. Heures and Jours aside, it was a looooooong trip. Then I had to wait in the baking sun OF THE SAHARA DESERT NO LESS for an hour to…

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