To Africa!!!
Did not reach 100 km. to the Strait of Gibraltar, decided to rest, rented a hotel room for 28 euros (because Portugal). Came by ferry to Africa, the weather is warm + 20 degrees. Beauty. Spent the night on the Spanish territory in Ceuta. In the morning civilization ended at the border with Morocco. And it began… everything like the usual – border, customs, robbery. It seems that all the documents are in order, made according to the law, but still "unwound" for 100 dollars. I came to Morocco and immediately wanted to go back. The roads are terrible, everyone comes up to you, asking for money. I decided to give some souvenirs and change. Almost got ripped up. I got out in time. I exchanged 200 euros for local darhams, other money was not considered currency here.
Arrived in Tetouami, my mood improved. The road towards Rabat and Casablanca is good, but there is a speed limit of 100 km/hour. The cops didn't stop me. They salute me, they see that bikers on the Paris-Dakar highway are recognized and considered as normal people :). I reached Casablanca without problems – the road was good, there were signs in Latin. In Tangier I saw the local president, he laid the first brick in the construction of a temple. Tried not to stop, or else, immediately to avoid an attack from the side. There are no hotels on the highway, only in the towns.
In Casablanca, a hotel is $20 with a view of the Atlantic Ocean. I did not like the local cuisine.
At Sinus's "Facing the Ocean" festival in 2006.
Mostly eat something like hamburgers with barnina and fries. I decided to go to the famous Paris-Dakar highway. That's where it all started… The signs with Latin letters disappeared, only hieroglyphics remained. I had to get the police to show me the way. Business cards, like travel cards, allowed me to quickly establish contact and get the information I needed.
I drove out to the ocean again. I reached the border of Western Sahara, which is Morocco's territory (they did not even ask me anything there), and gave them souvenirs. But an hour later I got a flat tire. I had to go off the road on the Paris-Dakar highway. With a flat tire on my K1200LT motorcycle it is impossible to ride, first of all, it is heavy and the rubber is different.
We passed by guys on quad bikes from Italy with an escort. It started to rain, we need to leave this highway urgently or we will have to spend the night on the street. Reached the customs with Mauritania. Here the road ended. I drove along a well-traveled path for 200 km, thank God it stopped raining.
Arriving in the capital Nouakchott, took a hotel. For a night in which I paid 150 dinars for hot water and a TV with one channel. I left my motorcycle right at the entrance. Ordered an omelet and shrimp. It's 300 kilometers to Dakar (Senagal). Then it will be Black Africa or Guinea or Mali, we'll see. For now, a huge hello to all readers. Gotta think where I can buy new rubber!
The second part of the circumnavigation continues…..
So, I'm in Senegal. I spent the night in Bok-Sabudi. At my hotel, I met some bikers from Sweden. They have
There were 4 motorcycles, 2 ATVs and 2 small trucks traveling from Algeria through Mali to Dakar. They showed me on a map how best to get to West Africa on my motorcycle. Their route did not suit me: from Dakar to Mauritania, to Morocco and home. There was no one to tail me. The weather was good, +23, but the wind was freezing. I ate some "crap", a kind of Chinese soup with Siberian sorrel flavor. I'm afraid to eat meat here. I got to a grocery store, bought water, coke, buns, a muffin, and canned duck mince. I had no appetite, I hardly eat during the day.
You have to choose a route for a day and a week. On the right is Guinea, which is only accessible by jeep. Behind is Dakar, the capital of Senegal. Straight ahead is Mali, the country that divides North Africa from Middle (Black) Africa. I decided to go as the Swedes advised, especially since the map indicated a good road. I approached the border, Senou Debor.
French is also spoken in Mali. The border guards could tell from my appearance what kind of "fruit" I was and what I wanted. I had a map and route through Mali on my gas tank, so they didn't ask a lot of questions. The money was the same as in Senegal.
It was 1500 kilometers to Algeria, almost 3 days on the road. They took 55 francs for entry, in return they gave me a paper in Arabic, visas and motorcycle insurance. I wanted to go straight to the capital Bamako on a short road, but there were no normal routes on the map. I decided not to try my fate and took the highway. Roads and vegetation remind the highway Karaganda-Balkhash: sheep, camels. The temperature is 25-28 degrees. It gets dark at 8 pm. I drove at an average speed of 100 km/h. I followed a jeep with Dutchmen and got acquainted.
I reached the town of Nioro. At the service station I bought a rear tire for 50 Euro, they put it on, but did not balance it. I did not throw away the old tire: all bikers-travelers always had 2-3 wheels in reserve. I stayed here overnight. The hotel costs 7 Euros. I ordered eggs without seasoning and herbs. I ate them already on the highway in dry meat. It's all right, I can't complain about my stomach. The weather is good, no rain, no sun, just dry weather. I wanted to bypass the capital Bamako, but it didn't work out, I had to go through the center. It feels, that there are a lot of foreigners here. There is no smell of desert, the Niger River spreads before my eyes.
Still waiting for the jungle. The road led along the river. I decided to drive to Segu. It was very beautiful, I had never seen such vegetation before. Camels disappeared, elephants and domestic animals appeared, from afar I could not understand whether they were buffaloes or cows harnessed to carts. There are small villages all along the highway, 5 kilometers apart. Segou is very similar to Bamako. The city is as crowded as a bazaar. A lot of foreigners. Then I realized, foreigners come here for the exotic. They go down the Niger River to hunt crocodiles, like to wander through the jungle in search of adventure, and then tell their stories to their friends over a beer.
I stayed the night. Hotel 20 dollars with breakfast. In the evening I went for a walk around the city. All the cafes and restaurants were full, but I still found a place to have dinner. I ordered, I don't know what, but the waiter appreciated my choice and hurried to bring the order. It was a fish platter. Kind of tasty. My tablemates tried to talk to me, thinking I was American. When they found out that I was a biker from Kazakhstan, they were very surprised, we took pictures and exchanged business cards.
GAO is like being on another planet. The road is terrible, it's deserted. No people, no cars. It's horrible. I can imagine what it's like here in the summer. You can't hide from the heat and the stuffiness. Now everything is fine, but it's scary that there are few people and no cars on the highway. There are 300 kilometers to the border with Algeria. Arrived in the town of Bordi. I approached the sign, the information that in 200 km you can get to the country of Burkina Faso in Niger, and on the map road is not. I followed the road to Algeria. Again camels, donkeys and no vegetation.
Before the border I was overtaken by Germans on 3 motorcycles. These 3 types passed right away. They demanded a Green Card, insurance for me and the motorcycle. I bought insurance from them – 30 euros. No mafia, they gave me a multiple entry visa for 10 days transit (minimum) visa. I spent the night at the border of Bordi.
Honestly, I'm sick of driving down this road. I want to go to the people, to the people. At the border with Morocco, I called our ambassador to Egypt – the only Kazakh ambassador in Africa. He said that he was waiting for me in Cairo at any time, and if I needed anything, our diplomat could meet me in Tripoli (Libya). He said if there were any problems, to call immediately. Back to Morocco again. Now I change Euros into dirhams. From the border I wanted to go towards Libya and Tunisia, but I was told that I would not pass there on this bike. I had to go towards Fez, it is the only highway, and then along the Mediterranean coast, again through Algeria to Tunisia, Libya, Egypt. I reached Fez without problems, except for a flat front tire. I have one tire inflation bottle left, I need to buy more urgently. Temperature +10 at most, very cold at night, no heat in the hotel. Had breakfast in the morning, drove quickly to the coast. I think, what a class, I will go along the Atlantic Ocean along the Western Sahara! But it turned out to be the opposite. The beautiful road on the map is a complete deception.
I took this road, hoping for a pleasant ride. If I had known what lay ahead, I would have returned to Europe via Gibraltar and driven home. It turned out to be mountains, steep slopes, a tough road. A test of strength. It feels really good that I passed it, and frankly, I'm proud of it. I've noticed that hardships and mistakes on the route don't scare me anymore. Two years ago I would have been exhausted. And now I'm different, I try to take everything easily, because I'm not at home and I have no one to express it all and complain that it's hard for me! I have never seen such mountains in my life. I thought that Tien-Shan slopes are the most dangerous roads in the world. It turned out they weren't! I was driving at an altitude of 4000m. All serpentines, no barriers. How they poor Moroccans live here. They should be given awards for driving cars on roads like this. I will say at once that for the whole way along this highway I did not see a single foreigner in a car from Europe.
On the way to Nazor, I saw two cars fly into the abyss. It was horrible! I was too embarrassed to take pictures, or maybe I was afraid that people would misunderstand and that this was not Paris-Dakar! Here they look at me like a miracle. I gave out trinkets and toys to the children. If I don't give them anything, then they ask for money themselves. It must be a poor country! Men stand on the roads and offer anasha for money, calling me to their homes, to visit them. I think they have enough drugs too. They have a lot of cars. Mostly Mercedes from 1979 to 1985, diesel. The people herd sheep. The women in the fields grow something. The main thing for me on the road is to find a good place to sleep. If you don't get a good night's sleep, it is impossible to ride a motorcycle, I realized this from the experience of the first part of my round-the-world trip. I reached Al-Hosseim. The city is beautiful, stands right on a hill, and below is the sea. It's great! In the morning I had breakfast in a restaurant, almost like in Europe. After breakfast I decided to drive to Oujda (Algeria). I reached the town of Nazor, the inhabitants say that it is impossible to drive further, it snowed in the mountains. It is necessary to wait 2-3 days, even cars do not go. I thanked them for the information, otherwise I would have gotten stuck somewhere on the road and most likely would not have waited for help. After 24 hours I went with the cars. The snow was cleared, but the road was not sprinkled with salt and sand. The cars went with ease, but I had a problem. I drove like a stuntman, 70 km/hour on the colliery. Who thought it would snow in Africa? Moroccan drivers cheered me up, honked, waved and smiled.
I could drive no more than 300 kilometers a day. In Algeria, the mountains are lower, but also without any signposts. I changed money for dinars at the border in Oujda. Changed the spare tire. I lit the clutch on fire, adjusted it to keep it from slipping. But it still sticks! I have to look for a service station, and it is time to change oil, I have already passed almost 8000. There is almost no difference between Algerians and Moroccans. The only thing that seemed to me – in these countries live only men and children. Finally, a good road began. From Bildy to Boyle is 350 km. I drove up to Tabarka and wrote "AFRICA" in big letters for Tunisia. I thought that there is no simpler country in Africa! But it turned out to be the opposite! I didn't have a visa, of course. The firm that handled my African visas said that Tunisia is a visa-free country. The border guards took my passport and persistently asked me for a visitor's invitation.
On my way to Tunisia, I made friends with some bikers from Italy. They were on their way to the Libyan desert (to ride their BMW GS and KTM motorcycles like Eldos Ametbay (aka Askar Akayev). True, they also had a jeep with them. They passed the border without any problems, waited for me for an hour and didn't wait.
