Mind the Gap…

We are entering the true Africa. Egypt still has a lot of western influence, and is Arabic in essence, but now we have entered Sudan. Who goes to Sudan as a tourist? Almost nobody. At the visa agency in Holland (the expert on all visas worldwide) getting a visa for Sudan is rare and most of the time visas are denied after weeks or months. The boat trip over Lake Nasser, from Aswan to Wadi Halfa, says it all. But first let me backtrack to some crazy days before…   From Luxor we drove to Idfu, halfway along the way to Aswan and by the Nile. The Nile cruise ships stop here, making the hassling of the local people a bit annoying. It’s a normal cycling day. We are getting the hang of it, and arrive early. The campsite is on a fenced off soccer field, and the toilet facilities are the most disgusting I have seen so far. The town is also a bit greasy and dusty. We walk around to find a falafel restaurant. While crossing the very busy central road of town, congested with cars, people, donkeys and the like, I suddenly feel myself hanging by my elbows about 1,5 meters down. What happened? One of the sewer puts [manholes] didn’t have a lid, and while I was looking the other way searching for a restaurant, I stepped into it. In a reflex I must have opened my elbows, which prevented me from falling down three meters deep, and would have certainly meant a major injury. TIA: This Is Africa. My buddies see me crawling out the hole, and it looks like I have only scratched my leg and broken my slipper. At camp after cleaning it’s a little more serious, two small holes close to the chin bone, so the nurse cleans it properly, puts on a bandage and gives me antibiotics for the next 5 days. In the morning it’s a little stiff, but cycling is OK. I kind of miss the race start, and try to chase the group, but while crossing the Nile there is a perfect picture opportunity. I decide that this is a sign to take it easy today. I arrive in Aswan half an hour after the race group but fully relaxed; there is a lot to arrange for the border crossing. The overland trucks already left the day before with a part of the luggage, and my passport photos that I need, so I have to make a few new ones which is an experience on its own.   We drink our last beers (Sudan is a dry country) on the floating restaurants along the Nile and on Monday morning we leave in convoy to cross the Aswan dam to go to the ferry. It still early and a few people are waiting by the ferry. We go through customs relatively smoothly with our bags and bikes and load the stuff on the ferry. The TdA has reserved all cabins, but there are only 22 (two person) cabins. The remaining people have to sleep on the deck, which has a romantic appeal at first but as the day progresses things change radically. The boat is slowly stacked with passengers, TVs, fridges and other big piles of bags. Now we understand while the whole docking procedure takes so long. At the end of the day the roof is completely stacked, and people have started to build small secluded areas by building walls of TVs or tucking themselves under the life boats.   Taking a tour on the boat with my camera makes me grin from ear to ear: its one big mess of yelling people, carrying around big bags and trying to claim the small corners of the boat that are not covered. I am glad I have a hut. Although, when I return to my hut, I see that a mouse already had a bite of my food stash, and lifting the mattress makes a few cockroaches crawl away… TIA. I decide to sleep on the front deck, although I am warned that it’s a flood area for the ballast tanks on the ship. A few times that night when I hear the water start to run I jump out of my sleeping bag on top of one of the crates. For the rest, it truly is romantic: the moon, the stars, the breeze, the smell of water. I see the sunrise; we pass by Abu Simbel and dock at around twelve noon. It takes a couple of hours before the 500 people, fridges, bags, microwaves, TVs and other stuff leave the ship and we can take our bags and bikes through customs, where everything is checked, re-checked, stickered, and checked again. Welcome to Sudan…   It has a totally different buzz. Sudan is something you would not expect after all the news reports the last few years about war. We discover this on our first night and first riding day in Sudan. People are overly friendly, interested, welcome you everywhere you go, walk around camp to look at our bikes and us (being of a different colour) and ask questions. Also, it’s much quieter than busy Egypt. We have the newly paved road almost all to ourselves, it is warmer (but still comfortable) and doesn’t cool off as much at night. It almost starts to look like a holiday. The camp after the first riding day is next to the Nile, and we have a swim guarded by a security officer, armed with an AK47 against the crocodiles. He even gets a go at a small crocodile swimming by.   -Frans Smit (rider)