Mauritanian Visa Hunt (Rabat, Morocco)

Nov 18^th, 2010 - We flew from Tunis to Casablanca in furtherance of our Mauritanian visa quest. For some inexplicable reason we were upgraded to business class. Guess we just look important. I know my shaggy appearance screams debonair. Upon arriving at the airport in Casablanca I was delighted to discover that my ATM card did not work. It is Mastercard. The machines accept Mastercard, just not mine. Damn me all to hell.

I received a variety of error messages to include one referencing the expiration of my card. It is true. My card expired months ago but I was under the impression this would only be a factor if I tried to use my debit card to make a purchase. I had been using the expired card to withdraw money in Tunisia without problems. And even back in the good ole USA I never had a problem with an expired card at an ATM. Admittedly, I just started using this card after the recent purloining of my wallet. I was hoping I could find a machine that accepted my card in town somwwhere. Wish in one hand, shit in the other. I was forced get a loan from the International Bank of Leslie. I had a cosigner.

We hopped a train and made our way to Rabat, as this is where we believed we could get our Mauritanian visa from an existing embassy (as opposed to an imaginary one). Mauritania apparently likes to play 'musical visa office' as over the past few years it has moved the location from the embassy in Rabat to the consulate in Casablanca and then back again. While researching this I found a picture of a guy flipping the bird at the consulate sign in Casablanca. Not such a good 'sign'.

The Tweedles (Dakhla to Nouadhibou)

Nov 22^nd, 2010 - The next morning our driver collected us around 7 am and drove us to a café for a morning nibble. It was here we were introduced to the other passengers in our vehicle, two brothers from England. We were being dropped off in Nouadihbou while they were being driven all the way to the capital, Nouakchott. They were merely planning to whiz through Mauritania on their way to Senegal for a bit of camping. Camping vacation in Senegal? Okey dokey.

After some cordial exchanges I began telling the story of the Frenchman who traveled all the way to the border of Western Sahara/Mauritania sans visa and was summarily rejected by immigration officials. The jolly ole English blokes suddenly began looking a bit like the Brothers Grimm. They did not have a visa. They believed it unnecessary. At first I stuttered and then reiterated my 'you never know until you try' philosophy but also shared what I knew of the current situation. The policy on the border of Western Sahara and Mauritania is currently somewhere between 'No F@#$ing Way!' and 'Go F Yourself Furiously!' according to current intel. Not quite how I put it but I did try to gently bring the point home. After all, better to turn back at that point rather than plod on for five or six more hours south. They (as in Mr. Dee and Mr. Dum) were willing to take that chance. Please reference this post's title.