Storms in Africa

With the longest train in the world chugging into the Sahara, why would we ever choose any other form of transport? It was about 1pm when we wondered out of town back into the desert to find a small gathering of people waiting around in the sand beside a pair of railway tracks. The train is an iron ore train, typically about 2.3 km long, consisting of around 350+ open air iron ore wagons and one passenger carriage. We decided not to take the passenger wagon.. An iron ore container sounds so much more appealling and afterall, it's free! As the train pulled up we legged it down the line of wagons, found an empty one, jumped on to the link, threw over our backpacks, climed a small ladder and clambered in. The inside of the wagon was pretty grim, black iron ore, dust and sand... not the best place for a couple of white boys. It was a gruelling journey. We headed back East into the heart of the desert again and as the train gathered speed it created a sand storm and the inside of our wagon became a whirlwind of soot and dust. Whenever the train changed speed, a sort of shock wave would pass down the line, causing the wagons to bang into each other, crashing with such force that we were sent reeling across the wagon, or sliding along the floor. Most of our bones were jard from their sockets and sleep was impossible. With no toilet on the train and no schedule of stops, I found myself climbing out of the wagon and riding on the link unit between two carriages, as the train continued to storm through the dunes. Clinging on for dear life, I managed to drain onto the tracks.... But still poisoned by a Moroccan Tajine, I had to make a second toilet excursion -this time climbing two wagons down the line to make a tidy little iron-ore litter tray in the corner of the container!.. And still the desert flew by.

At 3 am we arrived in the desert somewhere outside a town called Choum. with so many layers of soot and sand on us we were as black as the locals under the midnight moon. Toyota pick ups were waiting to collect people for the ride south to Atar. We piled into one of them and just as we thought that it was full the driver crammed another five people in. So once again sleep was impossible!! I found myself wedged between a blind man who kept slapping my leg and a big Woluf woman with about a hundred children... still no sleep..

We got to Atar at about 6 am and squeezed in a couple of hours of sleep on the ground before taking a Peugeot 504 for the next leg of our journey. Personal comfort in Mauritania means nothing, so when we finally moved off, the car was fuller than a fat ladies socks, with three people in the back, four in the middle and another three in the front... and a driver! So on we went thought miles and miles of still more desert, huge dunes, some of them creeping across the road and past little nomadic camps in the middle of nowhere, eventually arriving in Nouakchott, (capital of Mauretania), at six pm. I celebrated with my first meal in five days, (guts feeling better), followed by a solid poo before shuteye!! HORRAY!!

And what a town!!