We caught a bus down from near Agadir to Tan Tan. The ride was fairly uneventful except for street vendors trying to sell us bananas and a guy in a sleazy looking white suit who whispered to us "wanna buy some Egyptian Porn". Tempting as it was we declined.

In Tan Tan we brought ourselves two old walking sticks in the market to use in our war against angry mongrel dogs and headed out into the desert. It was great to be biking along the coast with waves crashing in from the Atlantic and lots of wrecked ships rusting on the shore. The were huge lagoons with lots of birds including some odd looking flamingos. Every now and then we passed herds of camels that watched us with interest but we never saw any cows despite the numerous cow crossing signs. We reckon they got a cheap deal on some second hand cow signs from Europe.

We flew along as there was a constant wind behind us stopping at the infrequent roadside petrol stations for a warm coke and a yarn. Everyone seemed keen to buy things off us but we are travelling pretty light and only had a map of Spain. We made a great deal though and got an omlette and bread for it.

We arrived in Laayoune about half way through the third day from Tan Tan and had our first shower (well for a while anyway). There was a big U.N. presence here as this was the start of the Occupied Western Sahara. Morocco occupied this part of the country after the Spanish left in 1975, but the local Sahalien people wanted independence. They set up a resistance group called the Polisario and were fighting up until the early nineties. The U.N. brokered a ceasefire agreement and are now monitoring it.

Anyway, we met a young lad called Abdelatif who took us to the local circus. Youve got to have something to do for kicks when youre stuck in the desert a hundreds of kilometres from the nearest town. It was great fun. We pressed through the crowds to get onto the Ferris Wheel and got a great view over the whole area. There were tents around the sides of the circus area selling awesome food and an abundance of household items.

We tried to catch a bus down to Dahkla but they mucked us around so much we cycled off into the desert and caught a lift with a trucker called Mohammed. He was going down to pick up a load of squid and was a real laugh. He also introduced us to a Foula (desert headwrap) seller and taught Jonny how to tie his like a Tuareg.

Dahkla was a hole and we raced around the next day trying to get onto the convoy. It finally left a two in the afternoon, only four and a half hours late. It was a big affair with a hundred cars, vans and motorcycles assembed for the trip across the desert. Our bikes were conveniently stashed in the back of a German van. The driver Michel had a great music collection and managed to make us laugh with his few words of English. He was also a excellent driver after spending his German military training driving trucks through the sand in Russia.

At the end of the first night we'd reached the border. We set up camp next to the road in large sandy area (there were alot of them around being the desert). The next morning we awoke to the sounds of everyone packing up their stuff. Not wanting to be left behind, we packed up and jumped in the van. Got to the border and the road abruptly stopped. From here on in it was sandy tracks. Drove through no mans land. The only reminder of the mines laid all about were the odd sign, and the wreck of a french car that had driven off the track last year and been taken out by one.

We got to the Mauritanian side, and waited for ages as all the passports were processed. At one stage Jonny was asked to act as a translater for a russian couple who couldnt speak any french but had a bit of english. They were trying to go through africa without any money, and their visas had expired. The guard wanted 300FF each for a new visa. People who try to get through africa without any money are beyond help, so had to leave them there wishing them luck.

The track to Nouadhibou was hard packed sand at best, at worst it was dunes. We finally made it after Michel had a bit of fun sliding the van around en route. Nouadhibou was pretty exciting. Zillions of people everywhere of all different races, sizes and colours. We changed the last of our Moroccan dirhams into the local currency. For some strange reason we couldnt get our heads around the name of it (its called ouguiyas we think), so started calling it wogadogas. The name caught on and soon everyone in the convoy was calling it wogadogas.

The next morning we bailed for Nouakchott. Our group now consisted of the two german vans, and two 4x4s. We also had a guide to get us there. He was quite good but very bossy. The german lads started calling him the fuhrer! Anyway, he proved his worth more than once by guiding us past deep sand patches where other cars were getting bogged down. We only got stuck a couple of times, but even so it was tough digging the cars out in the blistering heat.

Spent the next couple of nights in the desert. One of them camped on the beach. The sea was fantastic, warm and great for swimming with lots of fish and the odd dolphin around. We followed the beach all the way down to Nouakchott. We're still there now sorting out visas and having a bit of a chill. The plan is to head out to Senegal tomorrow arvo, then follow the river Senegal all the way to Mali.

Western Sahara Photos