15 - 21 November 2009 Aswan to Khartoum (Sudan)
The 15th November was the BIG day – JC spent four and a half hours on the dock with Robert and Pim to load the vehicles and do the exit paperwork. First delay was 1.5 hours waiting for a pass to get onto the dock, next delay was waiting around to pay money for the shipping, and final delay was waiting for customs officer who eventually arrived by taxi which the boys had to pay for. Apparently he was on holiday and unaware that they would need his services at the port that day, as the ship would not be leaving until Monday. Whilst completing the customs check, Faye’s sunglasses caused quite a stir as JC put them on and entertained the customs offices with one of his pantomimes involving the small axe in the back of the vehicle and shaving!
The loading of the vehicles was completed with help from the many dock hands who were all waving and gesturing the right way to the boys – in other words total confusion as usual and involved Pim doing a seven point turn on the narrow deck of the barge with an open cargo hold to his side. Then JC and the Captain had a competition as to who could tie the best rope hitches to the amusement of the rest of the dock team. I really don’t know how he gets away with it – must the the air of authority and the grey hair which seems to generate respect.
One step more towards Sudan we were just hoping that it would not take us 4.5 hours to get on board the following day. That night we savoured our last alcoholic drink for a few days. Sudan is strictly dry with the threat of forty lashes for anyone who breaks this rule.
The following morning we were at the port by 9am amazed at the number of people and the cargo waiting to be loaded on to what looked to be a fairly small vessel.
At the shipping office we had also met Charlie and Rick in their Landrover, Joost and Alex in a Toyotal and Roland on his motorbike. Their vehicles were all to be loaded on a barge as the ferry was loading. Going on as foot passengers was no problem and all of the customs officers that JC had met the previous day remembered him and politely directed us through the system. Already there was a more relaxed friendly feeling. The Nubian people from Northern Sudan have a reputation for being very friendly and this was very apparent in their smiles and greetings to us. A short queue had formed at the gangplank and we waited to be allowed on board. One minute we were standing joking with the Egyptian policeman and the next there was a huge argument going on which threatened to explode into a full blown fight any minute. Our laughing policeman had clearly become very upset when someone had tried to push through. With the shouting going on in our faces we backed off hoping that things would calm down. A short while later we were on board and there we waited until after 7pm that night before the boat departed. We found our way to our “first class” cabin” - the only thing first class about it was the air conditioning unit which, despite its loose wires, was puffing out cold air. The bunks were made up by a cabin boy who with a little baksheesh and promise of more to come in Wadi Halfa “found” us a key so that we could lock our small packs inside. On deck the others had begun to arrive early too. Robert, Anna, Pim, Ghit, George and Roland would spend the night on deck and had quickly rigged up a couple of tents and some shade from the sun. As the day went on the people and cargo just kept on coming, some cargo going on the barge moored alongside but piles and piles of stuff going into any space they could find on the ferry. The guys with the vehicles still waiting to load had to wait until all of the cargo was loaded onto the barge and then, with the ferry passengers as their audience, finally got to load up around 6.45pm. What a day for them, just sitting there on the dockside waiting to see when and if they would finally leave. As we left, there were passengers and freight all over the place, in all of the corridors below deck, on the deck, in the cabins, in the “dining” areas. The toilets were already awash and I wondered what state they would be in 17 hours later when we should arrive in Wadi Halfa. The sun on deck was very very strong and I was glad to be able to escape to cabin for a quick blast of air con and away from the staring eyes of the locals who, not used to seeing bare arms and uncovered arms, were fascinated with the European girls on deck.
As expected the bathroom facilities quickly became appalling. So far on the trip this “first class” experience has been the worst with the smell from the bathrooms, the slamming of doors and people shouting until late in the night – not a pleasant experience.
The next day, on the front deck with a breeze and the sun shining the world looked a better placed particularly when we passed by the spectacular Great Temple of Abu Simbel. The four famous colossal statues of Ramses II sit majestically facing east, looking glorious in the morning sun even after thousands of years and being moved to high ground when the plains were flooded by the construction of the High Dam. Each statue is over 20m tall and at their sides are smaller statues of the Pharaoh’s mother and his wife Nefertari. Alongside was the smaller Temple of Hather guarded by a further six statues of Ramses and Nefertari.
I don’t want to keep on about the toilet facilities but I looked on in amazement as the Sudanese women washed and cleaned their teeth whilst a baby crawled along the floor in this confined space that smelled like a cess pit, where I had to hold my breath and get in and out as fast as I could.
On board our passports we had had our temperatures taken, completed a form for the ministry of health – we think – and handed our passports over. Having docked at 1pm, we eventually got on land at around 3pm as unloading went on around us in the usual chaotic manner.
Jumped into a landrover taxi and made our way to the Nile Hotel where we would all stay until the vehicles arrived on a barge the following day. Well I thought the boat was bad but I think that this was the lowest point for me so far. JC and I had four metal bedsteads in our room and had paid for all of them to ensure that we would not have anyone else sharing with us. The bedcovers didn’t look like they had seen a washing machine for a long while, the carpet was the sand floor, no windows, washing facilities outside in a trough with a water barrel above it! The only redeeming factor was that we were all there together, keeping our spirits up as best we could. There was nowhere else to go and we couldn’t even drown our sorrows in the bar so we all retreated to the market square for pepsi and food.
Check out the carpet........... Yes,that is me in that shroud...... We waited ........................ and ......... we waited....
Modern Sudan is situated on the site of the ancient civilisation of Nubia, which pre-dates Pharaonic Eygpt. The people in Wadi Halfa are proud to be Nubian and the town was founded by a handful of people from the original town of Halfa which was buried under Lake Nasser and who refused to be relocated by the Government of the time. On first sight it appears to exist simply to service the incoming ferry and the train which runs from here to Khartoum but the locals live up to their hospitable reputation. No one has pestered us for “baksheesh” and all are very interested in us. Using their limited English to talk about their country and ask where we are from or where we are going too. The three restaurants in the square are always busy with elegant “chai” (tea) ladies preparing tea with mint, cardamom, or cinnamon, coffee and even hot chocolate on small fires alongside of them, washing the glasses in boiling water from their kettles and elegantly delivering the chai with a smile.
The next morning after a bad night in our “prison cell” we started our registration process at the immigration department. What a pantomime – it took us a couple of hours and we just seemed to keep going backwards and forwards to the same “captains” for stamps and signatures. They are obviously used to a load of foreigners coming off the ferry as no one batted an eyelid as we twelve or so Europeans followed each other around collecting stamps along the way – no computers here or at least none that appeared to be working. Lucky George – once he was done there he could escape Wadi Halfa on his bicycle – for the rest of us it was the usual waiting game for the barge to arrive with the vehicles and the agent to sort out the paperwork. As we sat in the square we saw many vehicles coming in from the port loaded with cargo so we assumed our barge had arrived – it was 3pm before we were called to the port and then the first barge had arrived – fortunately the Toyota was on it!! Bad news though, by the time the barge was manoeuvred to the off loading pontoon, it was time for customs to go home. No persuasion could get them to either stay a little longer or even allow us to sleep in our vehicles on the dock until the following morning so much to our disgust it was back to the Nile Hotel for another night!!
Once again, it was the camaraderie of the whole group which kept us going. As JC said, at least we had the same room in the hotel – at least we knew what we would be getting. As we sat watching the football on the TV, in the street with the locals I am sure many of us were imagining George off somewhere, camping along the Nile in his tent and wishing we were in his position – maybe the next time we will come by bike!!!
The following morning, we sat enjoying our tea when we were joined by a local man who, although he could not speak any English and we had no Arabic, spent a pleasant half hour showing us photographs of him, his home town and his family on his mobile. We were disturbed only by the singing and stamping of what turned out to be what looked like a bunch of army recruits out for their early morning exercise. As usual, JCs grey hair seems to attract people and he was invited to inspect one of the local’s sword. I have to admit he looked a bit worried when a policeman came in and JC was stood in the middle of the room trying it out for size.
and JC makes some new friends......................
No problem, everyone was laughing at this strange Englishman who always makes them laugh! It’s obviously his friendly bluff manner which attracts them to him – one of the customs officer’s offered him some of his food again yesterday!! I suppose they don’t see many like him around here. They must think we are strange, the rest of the “gang” are all in their twenties/thirties and we must look like their mum and dad. On the boat JC even said to me “we had better go up on deck and check that the kids are all OK”.
After spending five hours or more at the port importing the vehicle, we could all finally get on our way. Despite the wonderful people in the village, it was time to get moving and sleep in a decent, clean bed even if it is in a tent. With a distinct air of hysteria in the air we all headed South out of town, forming a small convoy. The old sand road has been replaced with tarmac now and aside from a few bits of “off roading” where construction was still going on we were making good time. Sadly the camp site that we were heading for seemed to have disappeared with the sand road, so before the sun went down we all set up camp on the banks of the Nile. With a campfire, decent food and our own beds we were all a great deal happier, despite still not having toilets, showers or beers. As soon as we got our tent sorted JC boiled some water and had a good wash and shave. He hadn’t been able to shave for three days and was starting to look like Captain Birds Eye.
With over 700kms to go to Khartoum and only bush camping available along the road, we decided to leave the convoy behind us and get as near to the city as we could that day. We were badly in need of somewhere to get laundry done and have a hot shower, so with cries of “see you in Khartoum” and exchanging telephone numbers, we left “the kids” behind and set off once again through the desert landscape. The river here is indeed the life blood of the people with settlements huddled along its banks whilst, away from it, the desert stretches on for miles into the distance. Most homes we saw were single storey as usual and surrounded by walls to keep out the blowing sand. We saw some small patches of farming going on but at 34C everywhere was very very dry. We were back to many police checks. In most places the “officers” were not in uniform and I guess it could be quite disconcerting to be waved down in the middle of nowhere, particularly in the dark but everyone we meet, as usual, was very friendly and interested in our trip. We met up with George along the way and promised to “recce” the last part of the road for him which didn’t appear to have any villages at all – not good for someone like him who has limited space to carry water and supplies.
We reached Omdurman, on the opposite side of the Nile to Khartoum, as the sunset. It was Friday night and the streets were a seething throng of cars, people, tuc tucs, donkey, market stalls, and camels – everyone seemed to be out for the evening. With no street lights and the dust constantly swirling around us we both peered into the masses looking for a way through and trying to find the Blue Nile Sailing Club where we hoped we would camp again on the banks of the Nile. Khartoum lies at the confluence of the White Nile and the Blue Nile but that meant little to us or Gloria Garmin on a busy Friday night. Just to top it all we got to the correct side of the river, only to get caught up in even more traffic heading for the football stadium. It was after 8pm by the time we pulled in, both exhausted and still not hot showers or hot water at the Blue Nile Sailing Club where the office is located in Kitcheners old gun boat, so we decided to move on again the next day to another site which allegedly had all facilities. Who writes these recommendations – I don’t know – after traipsing half way across town to find it and ending up in yet another dust bowl in the middle of nowhere – we headed straight back to town and found a hotel. It was definitely time for a little bit more TLC.
For anyone following us on the route South, we had heard that you could obtain dollars from the Byblyoss Bank in Khartoum against your credit card. This is no longer possible. Also we believed that we could pay for the Kenyan visa in dollars – this has also changed and you will need 60 SD pounds per person – visa issued on the spot.