Casablanca to Dakhla (Western Sahara)

Nov 20^th, 2010 - Nothing more titillating then the prospect of spending thirty hours on a bus from Casablanca, Morocco to Dakhla in the Western Sahara. I suppose we could have split up the journey into legs and taken in a bit more of Morocco but the clock was ticking on our Mauritanian visa so we decided to put our heads down and soldier on. It wasn't a pleasure cruise but it could have been a hell of a lot worse. The bus was new and reasonably comfortable so in many respects we were fortunate. Still, thirty hours on a bus will deplete your lifeforce considerably. My chi was fading in and out.

Our marathon bus journey took us through the western edge of southern Morocco and into the Western Sahara. WS is a disputed territory and has been since its decolonization by Spain followed by the Moroccan invasion in 1974-75. Both the government of Morocco and the Polisario Front lay claim to the territory, although the majority of it is controlled by Morocco. The Polisario has actually gained recognition of its Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic (SADR) from 81 different countries to include its closest ally, Algeria. Morocco finds this all vexing, very vexing indeed.

This vexation turned violent in the city of Laayoune just a few days after we passed through. From what I've read Moroccan security forces invaded a tent city outside of Laayoune that was established months ago by the Saharawis in order to protest sub par social conditions in Western Sahara. Riots broke out and it all went to hell in a hand basket from there. The truth has been hard to come by as Morocco has attempted to put a tight lid on the details. Or have they? For an update check out “Waiting for the Arab Spring in Western Sahara.”

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.