We set off early “5.30am” from the Western Desert town of El Farafra to get the sunrise over the white desert with all the amazing sand hewn shapes. The big red ball welcomes us to a landscape of wonder and beauty that later in the day would become a glaring furnace. The rocks were hard but like tailors-chalk so I could whiten my face as the billy boiled.

When I got to the next (there are lots) police check the first two bikes had got through (surprise tactics) but the police had three men and assorted drums and cones blocking the road for me. They all just stood and stared at my ghostly white face. “Haven’t you seen a white person before?” I asked and they fell about in laughter before taking down the number plate details and letting me proceed.

Then into the black desert and the decision that it was so early in the day that we should go all the way to Cairo, a big day of 560km, rather than having another evening in a beer and night-life free oasis town.

As we rode on we saw them ,,,,,, clouds the first for ages, fluffy and pretty and no doubt heralding the onset of a European winter.
Woke this morning in Cairo -Giza to be precise- it is cool and smoggy

Sex tourism center for the older or “feeling un-wanted” woman would have to be Egypt. The local men are quite blatant about their desires for a quickie.
One charmer when asked what his wife would think replied “She is resting and I won’t tell her”. The same man told me he “very loved me” so I told him I was leaving the next day. He wasn’t worried about my departure as he wanted to be my husband “but just for today” and he would “very miss me”.

As I hunted for a nice belly-dancer costume the store owner suggested a dress rehearsal “out back” so he could check if the outfit would make my husband very happy. And so on I went continuing the shopping but not buying (lack of space) expedition in Aswan and Luxor.

I returned to the accommodation feeling like the most desired woman on earth.

As we fueled up to leave Aswan a man raced up to me in a beat-up car and jumped out shouting “remember me ‘I’m Abdol’ “. He wanted me to stay longer so I could go for a family picnic with his clan and all my “brothers” could come too. Gareth rolled his eyes with that look of “what have you been up to” .
Abdol was a guide at the Nubian museum and had guided me to the only lunch place open in the area, everything else closed until sun-set for Ramadan.

I think that should be my new name as I didn’t fall off in all the Sudan sand. Maybe I only fall off in unexpected sand, like a few of the un-named others.

On the “off” score sheet I think the boy’s team has drawn with the girl’s team. Also I think they don’t tell me all.

It is the most amazing feeling heading off into a vast desert following a compass setting and an assortment of previous travellers trails that meander around looking for an easier way. The extreme flooding that had been in the Sudan and Ethiopia areas just prior to our arrival there meant some roads were still under water or mud and detours the were often an adventure.

We arrived into Aswan off the Wadi Halfa ferry needing a shower. The pushing and chaos as we tried to disembark was to be marveled at and Dave left the boat by the cabin window to avoid the crush (or was it to avoid the immigration check). I was pleased to be off the ferry as our cabin was next to the toilets. The only good thing about the toilets was that there was a big lip at the door that stopped the swill going down the hallway.

It is Thursday, the bikes arrive Friday night on a barge, but can’t land until Saturday because Friday is a prayer day. Saturday has become a “sort of ” public holiday but some of the Christians will work as they are able to eat during Ramadan. Sunday is a public holiday as it celebrates a past war (?). We know it is a two day process to get number plates and legal for Egyptian roads and have read horror stories of long delays due to paper work.

I’m finishing this a bit later as the nightmare of the Customs has to be told by Tony and Brendan who acted as our reps for most of this saga. They are still receiving counselling on an hourly basis until the urge to punch all Egyptians has subsided

The heat means you need to drink gallons of water. Most days you sip through 5 litres of the warm stuff on your back and more if you are riding in the heat. But where does it go to. Several of us got to the end of hot days with no pee. I did drink 7 litres of water with no pee one day (that is almost a bucket full) so it is a good thing not to have the temptation of cold beer or wine at the end of the day– alcohol is a diuretic.

Yes the Sudan is “dry” and the “no beer here” policy is strongly enforced (prison sentence). We will sip the beer in Egypt as it is only at the overpriced bars of the 5 star tourist hotels

The rule of an Indian Guru I once knew still holds true “You can’t have a beer until you pee clear” so part of the daily health check in the heat is “What colour do you pee?”

Travelling in Africa brings people together, whether these are the locals from the country you are travelling in or whether they are fellow travellers on the same route.
While looking through the photo archives I discover a photo of a couple that seems familiar. Does anyone know who these two fine gentlemen are?

There are a few days to look back on now from the comfort of Aswan in Egypt. Our last night in Ethiopia was in Gondor where an ancient castle of the kings of old graces the centre of the town. Lying outside the magnificent walls was a wrapped person with a chubby baby crawling over her, I have since wondered if she was alright or was it as we have found so often someone having a siesta after lunch.

When we got to the border with Sudan the pace of entry processes meant we were riding into the sunset. The huge red ball set over a field of sunflowers and shortly after as we were checked yet again by another police post we encountered the first of many offers of Sudanese hospitality. This was the police wanting us to joint their “break-fast” of the Ramadan fasting season, having a date with a local took on another meaning.

The roads became less travelled and the hotels more communal with dirt floors and no walls. Just rows of beds under the sky trying to catch every breeze. In one town our beds were pushed aside and the TV was turned on LOUD until 3 in the morning while all the locals gathered around for the only entertainment in town. They perched on the side of our beds (as we tried to sleep) totally unaware of the personal space we are used to. I was the only woman at a couple of these places and the local lasses were quite invisible so I wonder what the men thought. Sudan is a place to experience fantastic hospitality, there is no beer or alcohol either.

Africa yields the oddest stories about people’s experiences when traversing not all of them full of the splendour and wonderment of the Dark Continent. Here’s a couple of tales that made us less than envious of their subject’s experiences.

Our fix-it man in Wadi Haifa was keen to relate to us the story behind his own motorcycle as he organised our papers for transporting ourselves and our bikes from Sudan to Egypt. “I too have a BMW”, he offered.
“Mine belonged to a German who had stopped along the Nile to take photos of hyenas as they returned to the desert from drinking the waters. He dismounted his bike and had become so engrossed in his photography as the animals approached he forgot reality. They ate him”
“After several days somebody approached the bike standing alone and discovered his skull. How they found out the tale was they developed his film and there were these magnificent photos of the dogs of death. Eventually as the bike was never claimed from Germany, it went up for auction and I got it”

This reminded me of an earlier tale I’d been told about a young Japanese honeymoon couple in one of the game parks of South Africa, when they happened in their vehicle across a lion sleeping off the noonday temperatures. So entranced were they by the magnificence of the beast, that she suggested he get out of the vehicle and go and stand by it for the perfect shot.

The lion awoke in for lunch.

They found her still sitting frozen stiff in the vehicle later that night, her new and now late husband’s bones lying where the lion had finished his meal.

In one of the outer and poorer suburbs of Khartoum, Sudan lives a Kiwi hero – Barbara Gouldsbury who for the last 15 years has been looking after some of the city’s street-kids. She runs an impressive operation that includes a prep school for the youngest of “her boys”, houses older lads who go off to one of the local secondary schools, runs a soccer academy for older street boys who then spend their afternoons on study, has a Drop-In centre that provides meals and company for those still on the street, and has just constructed a bakery that will provide work for some of the lads and income for the centre.

It’s an exhausting list of achievements and Barbara, who now calls Khartoum home, shows no sign of flagging energy. It must be what’s in that Nile water but she and her support staff of teachers, cooks and cleaners provide a safe and congenial base for these boys who would otherwise be on the street. And her successes are significant – one of her protégés, James is completing his degree in business and accounting, another wee fella has been brought back from near death to be living a full life in Barbara’s family.

We salute the work and dedication of Barbara Gouldsbury – and many thanks for the hospitality and welcome shown us during our visit.

After completing 3 days in a row and exceeding 1600km we are hoping for a days rest but this is not to be. We have caught up with the main group but we must push on as the pressure of possibly missing the Wadi Halfia ferry drives our group decision. Once again we are up early for team departure, the target being Wadi Halfia, the port town where we will ferry down the Nile on lake Nasar to Aswan in Egypt. No one knows how long this journey will take? Some say three days and some say five?

It is fair to say that there is a lot of contradiction flying as we discuss at the last minute which way to go, should we do the desert route (telegraph route) or should we take the Nile river route. We wade through the various blogs from previous trips, we gather data from others who have travelled these routes and we are certain that the Nile route is the better option. Overnight email comes in saying “go the desert route”. We have chosen the Nile river path, have we made the right decision?

We stagger our way out of Khartoum, the Zumo’s (Navigation Unit) tracks do not align them self with the roads surrounding Khartoum. This is evidence on how little people travel in this part of Africa. Soon we are in some market trying to find our way back on to a main road and north to the Nile road. After an hour we are on a newly formed tar sealed road heading north toward Dongola. The road is excellent but the temperature is building. It is 9:00am and it is already 32 degrees.

After crossing a main desert section we intercept the Nile then travel down the Nile again on a well formed tar sealed road arriving in Dongola at 14:30. The temperature is now 46 degrees and we all welcome the cool of the Hotel room and some cold water. (No beer in this country) We have completed 535 km’s in the heat of the day.

The next part of the route requires the crossing of the Nile to ride the eastern side of the Nile from Dongola to Wadi Halfia. We are assured that the ferry will run to time but as normal this is not the case and we cross the Nile one hour later than anticipated. We enjoy 10 km of tar seal road then we are into sand riding on a track that has been disturbed by recent flooding from the Nile. This causes great confusion as we back track around water holes. Fortunately we have the GPS to fall back on when we wander too far from the track. Brendan seen here deep in the sand:

After about 40 km’s of sand the road settles into a mixture of hard packed sand and gravel with corrugations. The riding is hard as we wander our way through many of the villages that dot the Nile. We stop at many a watering hole to wet ourselves down in the 45 degree heat. Brendan seen here wetting down

Finally we arrive at Abri at 17:00 we have been riding all day and have completed 240km. We settle in for a nights sleep at the local hotel (Elfagr Hotel) in Abri.

The next day we are up early to catch the cool of the morning and the sunrise. We have 180km to run to Wadi and the promise of improved conditions. The road is much the same, gravel with corrugations that shake the bike severely. Being used to the heat and road conditions we begin to enjoy this section and stop half way for a local lunch of liver, mushroom, beans and bread:

We push on to Wadi getting there around 13:00 again in the heat of the day. We have made it and the fear of missing the ferry fades into the background. We settle into the Nile Hotel to enjoy two days wait for the ferry departure.

We gather again with others who we have met previously at embassy offices and compare notes on our journey. Most have arrived early for the same reasons. It appears that we have chosen the correct route as the desert route has deep sand tracks that deviate from the main telegraph poles making it hard work to stay on track.

It is Wednesday morning and our agent races around Wadi completing all the necessary paper work for immigration and customs clearance. 13:00 we are off to the ferry terminal where we leave our bikes, they will travel separately to Aswan on a barge. We clear immigration and customs, armed with our paper work and a change of clothes we board the ferry for the 18 hour trip to Aswan.

Next stop is the bureaucratic processes of the Egyptians in Aswan and the wait for our bikes?

Tony A