The Elusive Cap Blanc (Nouadhibou, Mauritania)

Nov 24^th, 2010 – Rolling into Nouadhibou under the afternoon sun felt a little like entering the set of Black Hawk Down and might as well have been a billion miles from population centers like Casablanca and Rabat in Morocco. A dusty desert road lined either with half-finished or half-collapsed concrete buildings, broken down vehicles strewn about haphazardly, piles of rubbish on every corner, and a distinct forlornness welcomed us to Mauritania. 

Just to punctuate the mood we saw a young half-naked boy on the side of the road executing what appeared to be a quasi-downward facing dog while spraying diarrhea into the air like he was practicing for a competition based on distance. Awesome. Although I've been to some extremely poor countries in the past there is something about the desert setting that intensifies the desolation and sense of desperation. And the contrast between Nouadhibou and the Moroccan cities we'd just visited was stark in the extreme.

After some signature indecisiveness on our part we finally settled on an Auberge (French for 'inn') but not before our driver ferried us around town longer then he might have hoped. My sympathy evaporated when I discovered he screwed us bounteously before parting. He was kind enough to exchange our dirhams (Morocco) for ouguiya (Mauritania) at, unbeknownst to me at the time, a preposterously low rate. I suppose that is to be expected when you change money with a taxi driver. Not knowing the exchange rate and arriving on a weekend did nothing to assist our cause. The fact the driver had full knowledge of our monetary pickle sealed our fate. After spending a few minutes telling us how money was of little importance to him he then asked for an additional 2000 ouguiya for carting us around town in search of lodging. Like a douche I gave it to him not knowing at that time he'd bent us over sideways on the exchange rate. Thank you sir, may I have another? Please?

To the Hinterlands (Dakhlet Nouadhibou, Mauritania)

Nov 29^th, 2010 - So we were off! Into the unknown! Into the desert! Into the chaotic abyss of Ahmed's mind! Buckle up. We covered roughly 300 km the first day, the majority of which was spent driving straight through the desert. Roads are for pussies...or pussies without a chauffeur. If you like the desert then you'll love Mauritania. About 75% of this country (roughly the size of New Mexico or Egypt) is either desert or semi-desert. 0.2% of the land is arable (able to grow crops) and only 0.01% has permanent agriculture. 

It's Old Macdonald's worst f***ing nightmare. On top of that there aren't so many folks living there, approximately 3.2 million (40% of which live in urban areas). I will be making numerous comparisons to the apocalyptic nature of Mauritania's landscape. It will probably get old. Get used to it.

If 'nowhere' is on your list of places to visit I must believe northwest Mauritania is, at the very least, on the way there. It is a land of enchanting desolation where even the 'nothingness' that surrounds you still has a 'somethingness' quality. This probably explains why I was not even the slightest bit bored sitting in a vehicle for hours on end staring into the desert void. Mesmerizing, captivating, and a whole slew of other adjectives that don't quite do it justice can be applied. Just plain awesome. It gets the highly coveted Rich Plumadore 'Fuck Yeah!' stamp of approval.

Love & Al Qaeda (Ben Amira, Mauritania)

I'm not from here

Dec 1^st, 2010 - Listening to the desert wind sounds eerily similar to the inside of a seashell…….The next morning we made our way to the small village of Tmeimchitt for our first gendarmerie (civilian police) check-in of the day. Whenever entering and leaving a city or village it is necessary to provide passport information to the security forces so they know how many tourists/foreigners are in a given area. Supposedly, it is for our own safety. And what are they protecting us from? Hmmm.

According to Ahmed the commander of this particular outpost was a bit ornery which explains the two hour delay for no good reason. He was apparently upset about us not camping next to their office the previous night as opposed to outside the village where they could not keep a protective eye upon us.

Finally, we were released and began our drive toward the monolith of Ben Amira and the small village of the same name. Ben Amira the monolith is reputed to be the largest of its kind in Africa and second (in size) only to Uluru (Ayer's Rock) in Australia. There are a bunch of similar outcrops dotting the horizon as you approach but Mr. Amira is by far the most significant. The landscape (monoliths, desert, dunes, etc.) combined with the ramshackle village is the stuff of surrealistic dreams, the kind that haunt you long after you wake. Hard to describe but breathtakingly beautiful.

The Road to Terjit (Adrar Region, Mauritania)

Dec 9^th, 2010 - (Nov 11th-12^th, 2010) I see people living in this part of the Saharan Desert and think: If the world were to end I'm not entirely sure these folks would notice.  I had a dream the other night that I was discussing taxes with Newt Gingrich. He told me I was naïve because I said we should tax people who can afford it. At some point in my dreamscape a giant tree came alive and started to chase me but a woman came out of her house and shooed it away. Thanks. Later, I was collaborating on a movie with Matt Damon. Finally, I published my own book by merely hitting 'print' on my computer. Out popped a book in hardcover format. Busy night.

Remember how we had an electrical problem with our vehicle (fuse) and how Ahmed told us everything was kosher? It wasn't. After packing the truck and saddling up we were delighted to discover that the battery was deader than a fargin doornail. Great way to welcome the day.

So Ahmed made his way back to the village of Ben Amira on foot to see if he could round up another vehicle to give us a jump. He told us he'd be back in five minutes. That's five minutes of 'Ahmed time', of course. In Ahmed time five minutes equals anywhere from twenty minutes to two hours. We never did quite decode his formula.

Terjit-Chinguetti-Tanochert (Adrar Region, Mauritania)

Dec 12^th, 2010 - (Nov 12^th) Vexation. Frustration. Cerebral constipation. Anti-cooperation. This became the nature of our relationship with Ahmed. He was confusing the living bejesus out of us. We floated the idea of having our Dutch friend (Yoris) join us for at least part of our journey. He had hopped on the ore train from Nouadhibou and ended up hitchhiking his way to Terjit afterward. We had space in our Toyota Heliux, Ahmed would incur no extra cost that we could foresee, and Yoris' fluency in French would assist Ahmed as much as it would us. No problem, right? Wrong. 

Ahmed resisted. First he said something about insurance, claiming if something happened to Yoris he would be liable. Alllllriiiiight. Liable to who? Was he not already liable for us? What if Yoris had been with us from the start? What is the difference? I was mustering all my powers of empathy to see his point of view. He was not helping.

He mentioned phoning his sister in Nouakchott and asking her to speak with somebody for some reason to accomplish something (She was chummy with someone important). Then he mentioned a tax that had to be paid. As I tried to clarify and understand his position it slowly eroded until he finally told me it would be no problem. Huh? Tax you say? We were willing to pay it but he then claimed it was no problem. In the course of ten minutes he went from 'No F'in Way' to 'Ain't no thaaang but a chicken waaang'. Yes, I was bewildered. What else is new? It was impossible to accommodate him because it was impossible to determine what the hell he wanted.

Ahmed Kerfuffle of '10 (Ouadane & Guelb er Richat, Mauritania)

Dec 15^th, 2010 - (Nov 13th – 14th) We left Tanochert in the morning and continued through the desert to Ouadane, a desert outpost once a staging point for trans-Saharan trade. No one was particularly chipper. Ahmed was no exception. Had it not been for the consistent mesmerizing nature of the landscape I should think I would have been much more somber. However, not even Ahmed's relentless prevarications, protestations and bitchinations were enough to dampen my mood when presented with scenery that truly defies adequate description. Still, our cheerless leader gave it his all.

We arrived in Ouadane around 10 am in the morning and were under the impression that we would then be headed to the Richat Structure (Guelb er Richat). In fact, it was Ahmed who suggested this itinerary days before. However, after arriving in Ouadane he told us it was too late to head to Richat. According to him he normally leaves around 7 am to visit the crater and returns sometime around midday or early afternoon. Keep in mind that he once told us he never gets moving before 8 am. Why would he?

He was worried about going alone (i.e. one vehicle). He was also worried that the sand would be too hot making it difficult to maneuver through. Are you f***ing sh**ing me????!!!!! We had been driving through the 'hot' sand for six days. Not a word about this before and as far as the time of year was concerned November is relatively mild in relation to temperature. What the friggin hell was he talking about?

Lolly Gagging & Large Women (Nouakchott, Mauritania)

Dec 21^st, 2010 - (Nov 14^th – Dec 5^th) We arrived in Nouakchott after our desert extravaganza weary and depleted. Notwithstanding the 'Trials of Ahmed' the trip was truly extraordinary. The constant struggle with our desert sherpa was disappointing but not enough to spoil the experience. Although an antagonistic relationship with an individual you are paying to guide you is not ideal it does make for some comical and enduring moments. Really it does.

We spent over two weeks in Nouakchott doing very little. A week of that was spent waiting around for a package from the states. Inside was a shiny new ATM card to replace the one I lost via a pickpocket in Tunisia. So far I have to yet to find an ATM that accepts my card. Yes.

We also spent a fair amount of time planning our next move. We considered going to Senegal but decided to skip it as what we had read did not seem particularly appealing to us at this juncture in our journey. Mauritania is a hard act to follow. We knew we had to be in Mali for the beginning of January in order to attend The Festival in the Desert on the 6^th, 7^th, and 8^th so we decided to arrive early to check other parts of Mali along the way.

The Bag of Life (Nouakchott to Bamako)

Jan 5^th, 2011 - (Dec. 5th-6^th, 2010) We definitely hit a low point. A claustrophobic bus tour has a way of taking it out of you. A few sluggish days of feeling poopy followed. Ahhhh the vicissitudes of long term travel. Nobody is immune. Some may the claim to be but I will be the first to call bullshit. I should know. I'm full of it.

It really all began when we left Nouakchott on a bus trip that would span no less than 40 hours. Bamako or bust. We came close to busting. Nothing about what we learned relating to this journey prior to leaving inspired us. For one we could not even determine whether or not safety was an issue. Just like Mauritania, caution levels ranged somewhere between 'no problem' and 'you'd have to be out of your f***ing mind'. I suppose if you cannot determine whether safety is an issue then it is probably safe to assume that safety is an issue. At that point it boils down to effective rationalizing and reality dodging.

Of course, we had the option to fly but decided against this for two reasons. For one it felt like cheating and we could not justify spending an additional $300 to avoid the inconvenience of a shitty bus ride. And, more importantly, the safety record of local airlines is less than stellar. In fact Mauritanian Airlines has been blacklisted by the USA and European Union. So our choices were to either risk getting kidnapped or crashing into dirt at 500 mph. Potatoe. Potato.

We went with kidnapping. Were we really that worried about this? No. We'd spoken with some folks that had made the trip and others that told us that on a bus full of passengers no one was likely to have the balls to abscond with two foreigners.....probably. In the end we had no problem, at least with religious radicals or kidnappers.