There are two parts to this page: the
Travel Facts section, and the
Diary section.
Key Travel Facts - Details that other overlanders might like to know
(back to
Top)
Check that the chasis and engine number on your car’s paperwork (vehicle registration, carte grise, carnet) match exactly with those on your vehicle. Not just on the manufacturer’s plate (placed inside the bonnet) but also on the numbers etched onto the chasis and engine block. It is worth cleaning these etchings up to save some time as the traffic police will need to make rubbings from them.
Plenty of (fairly) secure car parks in Cairo, so should be easy enough to leave the car in one of them and stay in a budget hotel (parking 6EPs = 60p per day)
Don’t be put off by the rather miserable Lonely Planet. Things are much better than they sound!
We got our Sudanese visa issued at the Sudanese Consulate in Aswan in less than one hour, without the requirement for a letter from the British Embassy. Cost 100 USD.
The ferry from Sharm-el-Sheikh to Hurghada has very restricted height clearance (1.90m) and is therefore not really suitable to overland vehicles – we wish we had known this!
Mr Salah in ASWAN (tel 097 2262736), Nile Shipping Company, is extremely helpful (and honest) in organising the ferry for passengers and vehicles from Aswan to Wadi Haifa
Not much camping in Egypt, but did manage it at Luxur – Rezeiki Camp popular with overlanders (N15deg42.607 E32deg38.905)
DIARY - How we're getting on, and what we've been up to
(back to
Top)
Nights spent sleeping in proper buildings: Almost all – not much camping opportunity in Egypt.
Number of punctures: 1
Number of cock-ups: 0 – well, not on our part
Treating ourselves: Cairo’s most exclusive club, courtesy of our friend.
Slumming or Adventuring it: Twenty five hours at Egyptian customs.
(11.2 Egyptian Pounds = 1 UK Pound. I’m only mentioning it since money makes Egypt go round.)
A little late since we’ve not had a chance to use an Internet Café for a while, but from Khartoum, here it is…
EGYPTIAN CUSTOMS LIVES UP TO ITS NAME
At 3 O’clock on Thursday (this is significant) we arrived at the first Egyptian border post. I think the first words spoken to us (well, to Gina really) were from a friendly young gentleman sat at the roadside and called over “Welcome”. Perhaps spurred on by the absence of obscene gestures in return, he took this as a positive sign and promptly followed up with “I love you”. Yeah right, now arse off.
Parking our car to enter the Egyptian passport hall we were mobbed (I think that word must have been invented for that particular scene) by money changers and other ‘helpers’. One of them presented himself as slightly more respectable (with a good grasp of English – we must never be fooled again) and lead us into the hall and gave us the correct forms. God forbid that we should have had to take them off the racks ourselves. Forms completed we were instructed by our ‘helper’ and two Police Officers who were now in tow, to sit and wait. Eventually as a second counter opened, our officers skipped the queue and tried to get our passports processed. The clerk didn’t know how to process non-Arab passports (even with our Arabic translations). Minutes later our Officers returned, this time with some Big Wig (we could tell from the weight of brass hanging off his shoulders and chest, and from the way the crowd parted to let him through – Moses and the sea springs to mind). The Big Wig processed our papers, and we were led on behind a hut where our ‘helper’ and officers explained that they needed thanking. We had no Egyptian money, but thankfully our ‘helper’ was a money changer. We left 50 Egyptian Pounds poorer (5GBP), having skipped a 2 hour queue – this seemed like an OK deal, but not a great way to start. We moved on to sort out the vehicle’s paperwork.
This time another ‘helper’ approached, and though we treated him with suspicion progress was clearly going to be impossible without a translator. He explained that he liked UK and US, and (very quietly and nervously) that he had worked in Tel Aviv and that he must help us tourists since we spoke no Arabic. He was genuine. He helped us to get some of our paperwork in order, and left us at the Traffic Police office with clear instructions before rushing off to start his work. If you are reading this, thanks; it was a truly refreshing experience to be helped by an Egyptian with genuine motives.
[Note that all names have been changed to protect specific Egyptian Officials from potentially unfair abuse and slander on the internet following a truly horrendous experience, with the exception of one particular gentleman who we will freely abuse and slander in the hope that others can be prepared for him.]
The traffic police spent an hour or so removing grease from our chasis and engine in an attempt to make a rubbing of the etched chasis and engine numbers. Eventually Gina’s charcoal helped get the rubbing clear enough for the Miserable Git behind the counter to accept the work of his Useless Git workers. Our Traffic Police form was completed and we headed back to customs (on foot) to find Mr Customs. Mr Customs frowned, we felt disheartened. Mr Customs went off to fetch his senior. Mr Customs Snr explained that the numbers on our etchings did not match the numbers on the Traffic Police form and that this was a problem. Ah, we understand… a problem that you have just introduced and will need a little money to get around? As he showed us the etchings, and Gina read them out, the problem was in fact (as he had said) that our chasis and engine numbers as shown on ALL of our paperwork were indeed different to those etched onto the car. Shit. Thankfully, Mr Customs Snr quickly explained that they have a custom in Egypt called Ramadam (for his information, this custom is also practiced in Libya from where we had just arrived) and that they do not eat during the day, but then enjoy a large Breakfast at 5.30pm and that nothing would happen for that time. This was not (as I hoped) an invitation to join them for this feast, but rather an indication that we could leave and return two hours later to find Mr Sala (whose name we are freely releasing, but who should not be confused with Mr Salah of the Nile Navigation Company in Aswan who is a thoroughly helpful chap) who would be able to help resolve the problem. We spent two hours sat by our car beginning to feel nervous.
Three hours later (Mr Sala turned out to have longer Breakfast breaks than anyone else), at about 9pm, we found Mr Salah. He was the border representative of the Egyptian Automobile Club and, though looking at great pains at our problem, would be able to help us. Through pains that must have originated from his hernia (I am only guessing, but from the expressions on his face something was causing extreme amounts of pain) yes, he could change our carnet to the correct details, and then we would be able to complete customs. But it would be a difficult procedure (are we back to the hernia operation?) and therefore we would need to pay for it. 250 Egyptian Pounds to be precise. Still, this was evidently our only option (he told us so), so we would have to do that. Also, at 25GBP this didn’t seem too outrageous.
With forms amended, and money paid Mr Salah took us outside to Mr H Flick from customs (he spoke clear English but in a bellowing German accent rather like Herr Flick off ‘allo ‘allo). Herr Flick explained our problem, what Mr Sala had done to help us, and confirmed that “So now you zee, zis problem is completely soluted.” With jubilation bubbling inside, Mr Salah took us inside to visit Mr Snr Snr Customs man who would complete our form. Or would he… ? Sadly not, since he confirmed that our Carnet was not worth the paper it was written on. Evidently Mr Salah was not quite as important as he believed. Instead we would need a fax from the RAC in London to confirm the changes.
By now it was 11pm and the officers found it difficult to understand that the London Office would be closed (without even considering time zones) but we assured them that it would. We left a panic message on the RAC answerphone and decided to head into Salum to spend a night in a hotel. Forbie was to go nowhere. Fortunately the kindly Mr Salah offered to drive us to the hotel and to collect us in the morning. Mr H Flick humourously commented that “Yes, Mr Salah is a very generous man and he will take lots of your money too”. To be honest, at 11pm after eight hours of bureaucratic nonsense we decided to take our chances with Mr Salah (but did check the price of a taxi).
The hotel was good (Hotel Sert – strongly recommended if you must stay in Salum) and we ended the night with Mr Salah demanding 100 EGP for taking us to the hotel. With the knowledge that a taxi would have cost us 4 EGP I laughed hilariously, smiled broadly, and gave Mr Salah 20 EGP and a hearty pat on his back for his troubles. We parted company for the night.
The hotel staff were friendly and we spent some time chatting in the morning. It turned out that the manager had been to London with his father who was having a heart bypass operation (the operation was successful and his father is well if you are wondering). Anyway, the point was that Dr Mousif Hamed from London did the operation and I had to blush through my ignorance for not having heard of him. So I was told, most people in London know this famous doctor, so I thought it worth a quick check with this readership audience. Know him?
We spent the morning at the hotel speaking to Sue Collins and Paul Gowen from the RAC in England. They were very reassuring on the phone, explaining that such problems had occurred before (nearly always in Egypt) and that they would be able to send through a fax correcting our numbers and effectively revalidating the carnet. Thanks! Some nausea lifted as visions of us trying to ship back a possibly stolen car (how was the paperwork wrong?) to England from an Egyptian customs compound began to clear. We headed up to the border with Mr Salah to collect the faxes. The faxes were collected, and he explained that the company had charged 60 EGP to receive them. We laughed hilariously again, looked incredulous, and gave him nothing.
Eventually we completed the paperwork and received our Egyptian Plates, and at 3.30pm on Friday (24 ½ hours after arriving) we were ready to head out. We had our final dispute with Mr Salah who now began to protest that the 250 EGP was not for him but for the automobile club (though he would not be able to provide a receipt or any paperwork), and that we should thank him with further payment. The saying that he had told us about earlier “In Egypt we do not pay a man for doing his duty” seemed to have been forgotten, but fortunately I was able to remind him, and we had another laugh together before we headed off on our way. Though Mr Salah was undoubtedly enormously helpful throughout (we would have struggled without his assistance) he is as crooked they come and needs watching like a hawk.
[Written laid back on the ‘hippie style’ sophas at Dahab as the water laps up at the restaurant. The owner has just commented that ‘this is your job’ since a peak at my Passport has revealed “Business Consultant” – that apparently involves computers, so ‘this is what I do’. So, for those of you who have always been a little mystified (Mum et al) that should clear it up.]
MARSA MATRUTH
Leaving Egyptian customs we decided that we needed a holiday. 24 hours at Egyptian Customs meant that we deserved one. Masah Matruh is a largely (almost entirely) Egyptian holiday resort on the North Coast not far from the border, so that sounded perfect. As we arrived and checked out the options, Gina put her foot down. Thankfully I was driving, so no-one was hurt, but we would be staying in the rather nice Belle Beach hotel rather than the self-catering option down the road. This would be a real holiday.
As it turned out, we later met Charles and Patricia, an English couple who were driving down to Uganda, hoping to arrive at Christmas. They had left UK one week later than us, and had already caught up. Clearly they would be moving at some speed, though to look at their aged Landrover one wouldn’t have thought so. Anyway, we enjoyed some English company (the first we had since UK actually) and discussed Tea. No, seriously, we did – Charles and Patricia had a tea project underway, so it all felt very British. It was good to chat, and we also shared information about the route ahead, so useful stuff. A great couple too, and we hope to catch up again in Uganda.
To pass a lazy afternoon, I (Nigel) decided to swim across to the other side of our small bay. I had had a look earlier from the balcony, and gauged the distance to be OK – probably for a return swim, but should this turn out to be ambitious I would always be able to walk back around the bay. Striking out, it all felt good and I was soon leaving our shore behind and making good progress. I noticed the bottom suddenly shelve away (perhaps a reef-edge, or possibly even a dredged channel?) and continued on. It was only on reaching the other side that I turned round to notice that it was not in fact a bay, but rather an opening to Marsa’s harbour, and I had in fact just crossed the shipping lane. I wouldn’t be walking back (it was a very large harbour), so timing in between ships (actually there were very few) I headed back across.
Other than that, Marsa Mutruh involved nothing but beach and lazy time. Perfect.
ALEXANDRIA
Driving on from Marsa Matruh towards Alexandria, the only point of any note to us was Bourg el Arab where my Grandad had been positioned during the war. As we passed through I noticed a large Hilton, and made a mental note to ask whether that was where he had been put up. With lovely beaches, and plenty of resort villas and hotels it did not seem to bad a place to be stationed at all. Of course it may not have been like that forty years ago. We did notice some gun fortifications that probably did pre-date the Hilton however.
Alexandria turned out to be all that the guide book promised. Bohemian café culture. Sadly, being Ramadam all of the cafes were closed. We made do with the hussle bussle and enjoyed a fantastic Chinese restaurant on the roof of the Cecil Hotel – one of the grand colonial hotels at the heart of the city, placed on the sea front. We stayed in the rather less grand, but fine, Union hotel almost next door.
Before heading on to Cairo, we decided to do the ‘Alexandria Archaeology Adventure’ (our name). This involved a fairly unusual dive around the recently discovered ‘hidden city’. Until fairly recently, historians had been searching for the hidden city, convinced by various texts of its existence. Discovered around the mouth of the modern harbour, the dive offers two sites: one of various Pharonic, Greek and Roman remains around the old lighthouse that was bought down in the second world war; the second around Alexandria’s Palace and a WWII fighter plane. It was only really later in the Cairo museum that we realised the significance of the Ancient Greek vessels that our dive master had encouraged us to throw around, and the Pharonic Sphynx that we ‘rode’. We also made a fairly impressive ‘swim through’ through a narrow cave that Gina was pleased with.
CAIRO
A brilliant city. Go there when you get the chance. The buzz down-town is like nothing we have ever experienced before. The closest I can describe, is that from about 10pm – 2am EVERY NIGHT, Down Town buzzes like Weymouth does for the ten minutes or so around midnight on New Years Eve. Exhausting!
Our start was slightly less ‘brilliant’ though. An hour or so, stuck in a seemingly inescapable loop. We simply could not get away from that bloody ‘Babys Things’ shop. Eventually we found the hotel that had been recommended. Too expensive but it would do for one night.
Having moved into our cheaper Down Town hotel we headed for the Cairo Museum. It was, and surely still is, an incredible collection of remains. The displays are not as bad as some make out, but there is quite a lack of information to put things in context – but a Loudly Speaking English Guide will rarely be far away. The Mummies Room was well worth the extra entry fee, with the level of preservation being quite incredible – small pox scars, braided hair, ear piercings still intact. We stayed until the Officials began to bark, hearding the tourists like sheep. We stayed a little longer, if just to annoy them.
A friend of my dad’s (Achmed) who worked in Weymouth as a locum on a regular basis, then met us at our hotel to show us Cairo by night, and also to comment that our hotel resembled Hospital Accommodation. We decided that this was not a proud statement about the quality of Egyptian hotel accommodation. We were shown around the main sites, with the highlights being a trip up the Cairo Tower to view Cairo by night (brilliant), and also a drive out to see the Pyramids by starlight – again, quite amazing, and as our first glimpse of the Pyramids we were both blown away. Even bigger than we had imagined.
Viewing the Pyramids the next day was just as incredible. We had been warned of every imaginable scam, so arriving well prepared we only fell for two of them. Wandering around the pyramids was quite breathtaking. Their size and the incredibly precise architecture is amazing. Especially when entering inside and exploring the perfectly built passages running up to the burial tombs. Even the Sphynx, which Lonely Planet cheerfully reminded us had been described as ‘not as exciting in the flesh’ by Alan Bennett, was fairly amazing.
Our first shopping of the trip was supervised by Achmed as he took us around one of Cairo’s bazaars. We did some Christmas Shopping. That evening Achmed took us back to his house for Breakfast (ie the end of the day’s fast). Souso, his wife, had been busy cooking (evidently for weeks!) and we enjoyed a true Banquet. Every imaginable Egyptian dish, including a selection of meats and just about every vegetable, all perfectly stuffed. Souso and Achmed complained in unison as we failed to finish everything!
At 10pm it was time to go out to the Club. We went to Cairo’s most exclusive, and as promised (or rather jestfully suggested) Achmed’s Power worked as they allowed us in as guests even though it was a Friday. The club was quite amazing, and completely in contrast to the rest of Cairo. Tranquil in the extreme. We were shown around the outdoor TV areas, the ‘walking’ track, the football and games courts, the swimming pools, the tennis courts and stadium. We never saw the Golf Course and Riding Area.
Sadly Cairo has no public green space so those not privileged enough to be members of a club have nowhere to escape the manic frenzy. In a city like Cairo, this is a real luxury and it made us realise how lucky we have been in London to have access to the likes of Hyde Park – in all honesty these parks are equal to the Clubs.
Our visit in Cairo was a great mix of sightseeing and buzz, yet we left feeling relaxed. It was great to be shown around by Achmed, and spending time with his family made it all the more enjoyable – so Thanks, and we look forward to seeing you in England.
MOON BEACH
Stopping off on our way out of Cairo, having passed under the Suez Canal (yes, the boats do look like they are gliding through the desert, and yes, Gina did a fantastic job at hiding her excitement as I talked with enthusiasm about what a truly remarkable engineering project this was) we found Moon Beach. About 40km south of Ras Sudr we enjoyed a great day’s windsurfing. Teasing us until about 11am it looked like there would be no wind, but then it kicked in. We both had good days – Gina getting back into it after a long break, and I (Nigel) eventually getting that little bit closer to Carve Gybing after getting pretty frustrated with various board / rig combos. Flying Fish following along in the wake proved interesting too, until I hit one and went arse over.
Getting off the water, we headed for St Katherines to arrive shortly after darkness.
MOUNT SANIA AND SAINT KATHERINES
We stayed at the Monastry Guest house, and had intended to set off at a leisurely 6am for the 2½ hr summit hike the following morning. The owner almost keeled over at this suggestion – apparently the walk starts at 2am, and that would be when we would set off. Protesting wasn’t an option, and we set the alarm for three.
Having got over the Gina Grumbles [Gina – that is having been woken up at 3am and in pain from the first windsurfing that I have done this year, Nigel did not moan but admitted to be suffering in silence as he too felt exhausted from windsurfing. He is now claiming to have only been saying that to humour me but I know better], the walk turned out to be most enjoyable, and despite our lazy departure we arrived in plenty of time to watch the sun rise. We even arrived early enough to reserve a decent plot of rock, where earlier observations of German Beach Towel Tactics paid dividends.
We enjoyed the sun-rise and scenery, both of which were spectacular, and joined the queue to head back down.
DAHAB
Dahab lived up to its reputation as a great place to relax – a good escape from the hassle and hussle-bussle of other Egyptian towns. Staying at the ‘Divers House Hotel’ we got persuaded into slightly more diving than we had planned, signing up to the Advanced Divers course. That said, the coral and marine life was superb, and with visibility of 25-30m we had the best dives ever. The highlight for me (Nigel) was one of the dives on a enormous ‘wall’ – about 70m of sheer vertical, and swimming along at 30m it really did feel like flying. Unfortunately Gina had a migraine for this one, and missed out. We did have a great night dive together though, spotting a Giant Morray resting in amongst the coral.
EGYPTIAN NONSENSE (Boat from Sharm to Hurghada)
Arriving at Sharm el Sheikh as planned for the boat across to Hurghada we bought the vehicle ticket. Yes, we confirmed, our vehicle (that we were standing by) was two metres and thirty centimetres tall. Ahhh, but having gone through a detailed search at the Egyptian border in Sharm el Sheik we headed for the ferry, which was obviously far too low for the full height of the vehicle with the roof rack and tent on it. A five minute discussion with the people at the boat and following an incident with a tape measure, it was finally confirmed that we were indeed too big. Out worst nightmare then became true as we were told that we would have to take the roof rack with everything on it off, if we wanted to board the ferry and that this needed to be done ‘quick, quick’. Of course they were happy to help for a small fee. With a few porters, and one accompanying passenger who had responded to Nigel’s “plea to the balcony”, the roof rack was pulled / yanked / scraped off the roof, and everything was loaded onto the boat.
Ninety minutes and lots of vomit later, we arrived in Hurghada to face a reversal of the escapade. Again, a small group of porters were gathered and the roof rack was heaved onto the back of Forbie, from where with a bit more grunt it could be slid along the roof. (No carefully placed roll-mats here, Ging.) More war scars for Forbie.
So, with that out of the way we drove through towards the exit. I mean, the second search. Despite having just arrived in Egypt, from Egypt, it was deemed necessary to thoroughly search the car. The entire contents were removed and passed through an X-ray machine. Again, porters were happy to help.
CONVOY
Convoy driving is all that it’s hyped up to be. Rendezvousing at 7 O’clock in the pre-assigned car park were shocked to find 40+ coaches, and probably the same number of mini vans. At 7 O’clock sharp, our police convoy pulled out of the compound, to be followed by this five mile cavalcade. Sirens screaming, lights flashing, everything was cleared from the road as we tore off into the desert.
The whole charade seemed like complete nonsense until the compulsory coffee / toilet / tourist tack break emerged and the local entrepreneurs descended on the tourist crowd. Is this why they organise them?
LUXOR
We were pleased to be camping again in Luxor, and also had the chance to hook up with a few other overlanders who were also using the campsite. In particular Esther and Al(??? – sorry!), a Norweigan couple who were travelling up our route from South Africa. They were full of enthusiasm and great stories, in particular raving about their journey up the Nile through Sudan – full of hospitable remote villages and perfect bush camping. We began to get excited.
The Valley of the Kings was quite amazing. Just so many tombs dotted amongst the hillsides, with so much detail in each. Timing entry / exit between various tour groups meant that it was not too crowded, and we had a great time. The Karnak temple was also quite amazing, in particular the ‘Temple of Pillars’ (our name, not theirs) and the ‘Wall of Records’ engravings showing how ‘Fair and Just’ Rameses III was to the civilisations that he conquered – lots of wine and maize as gifts if the carvings are anything to go by..
Whilst Egypt can be challenging at times in the context of tourist hassle and overcharging, the sites and rewards cannot be faulted.
ASWAN AND ONWARDS
Aswan for us, saw the start of our efforts to get out of Egypt, but first the drive from Luxor down. Our ‘convoy’ left at 3pm, and with only three cars at the touris police (well, us and two tour buses) the pressure was on. Well, we ignored the pressure, the two tour buses sped ahead, and we continued with our own rear-marker police car only occasionally blasting the siren to encourage us to go faster. We were only slightly disappointed at the sparing use of the flashing lights.
The Lonely Planet informed us that we would be able to get our visas from the Sudanese Consulate in Aswan, but that we may need a letter from the British embassy to confirm their acceptance. So, we phoned through to ask about the letter, only to be told (quite certainly) by the British embassy in Cairo that “There is definitely no Sudanese consulate in Aswan and the only place you can be issued with a Sudanese visa in Egypt is in Cairo”. Our hearts sank as we began to make plans for how we would spend our next week in Egypt (beside the four day return-drive to Cairo).
Fortunately Mr Salah from the Nile Navigation Company was far more upbeat. There was indeed a Sudanese Consulate in Aswan, and yes they could issue Sudanese visas. How could we have possibly doubted the Lonely Planet in favour of information from the British Embassy? That would teach us. In fact a large overland group (30 of them, who we met at the Sudanese consulate) had booked the entire vehicle barge, and we would buy space off them. Anyway, an extremely productive day saw us prepared for Sudan – visas, Egyptian plates returned, food and provisions stocked, water filled, reserve water filled, diesel coming out of our ears. We felt cautiously excited about our prospects for getting to Sudan!
As instructed, we arrived at the port for 9 O’clock (well, fairly close to anyway) and started to get the paperwork squared away. This went remarkably easily, and soon the carnet was complete, passports were done, and small blue pieces of paper with Arabic writing were swapped for similar yellow ones. Now off to load the vehicles (all four of them) onto the vehicle barge, which would travel separately to us on the passenger ‘ferry’.
Of course loading the vehicles was not as easy as that. Despite the ‘new’ addition of a loading jetty it was still clearly quite an effort to get the large overlander’s truck on. A large eighteen-tonne truck, with a big rear overhang it was having problems reversing onto the ramp for the barge – the angle was too steep and the rear of the truck simply caught. The solution offered by the port handlers – Faster – was clearly not going to help either. So, the alternative was to remove the rear of the truck (or the locker holders anyway) so time to set to it with a grinder. An hour or so later and enough truck was removed to get it onto the barge (by 1” – I was guding, so I know). We both admired Matt’s calm (their driver) in doing things as he wanted and not being pressured into wrecking things by the port staff. We got on without any problems, and having triple locked everything and left a key with a german driver for the customs inspection, we were off to the passenger boat.
Entering the passenger boat was like walking into an asylum fishing boat. Packed to the brim with families, elderly, screaming babies, every imaginable type of goods (this was evidently a cargo-come-passenger boat) and no doubt some livestock, we escaped upstairs to our First Class cabin. Yes, we would be travelling in luxury. Now, having seen Michael Palin’s “Pole to Pole” recently on video (the series was ten years old) we had an idea of what to expect from our cabin, and it lived up to these expectations. Basic but fine probably describes it quite well, and it would offer a hugely appreciated respite from the squalor emanating across the rest of the boat for the following thirty hours or so.
In fact, I am guessing at this time since I currently write sat on the top bunk, having spent four hours watching the port before departure, and with a ‘planned sailing time’ of twenty hours. Still, we have our meal voucher to look forward to, and I clearly recall that the restaurant was one of Palin’s high points so we are both quite excited about this prospect. We also have thirty or so other overlanders to chat to, and we have been enjoying a bit of a change of conversation, so the voyage is looking rosy. So they say.
Our feelings as we move through Lake Nasser towards Sudan are best described as Excited. We have heard so many consistently good things about Sudan, have good research on the route we will be taking, and are well stocked up and prepared, that we are now really looking forward to entering True Africa. We just hope that Forbie will arrive safely to share in it with us!