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Traveling Africa Overland

a travel blog by afrikawasbeer

My 2 friends and I are traveling from Tangier to Cape Town over the next 3 months. We travel via public transport only because we want to be a part of the pulse as much as possible.

Dakar and Bamako music scene; Dogon valley; Gold coast; Forest people of Cameroon; hiking Mt. Cameroon; kayaking the origin of the Nile river; Tanzanian plain; Mozambique coastline are only some of the things I look forward to.

Please drop in occasionally to see what we are up to.

Bon Voyage!
Walter
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The Crew

Cape Town, South Africa

The Crew:


Neill Goosen
Neill Goosen is from Maclear, Kwazulu-Natal originally. He went to Stellenbosch University after school and completed his masters in Chemical Engineering. Neill's passion for fisheries will culminate when he applies himself to doctorate studies in Sustainable Fisheries in 2010. I have known Neill for about 2 years now and he's a swell guy. His head is screwed on right and he knows what he wants from life. Neill is a born adventurer and was always looking for the off-the-beat-track trips while still living in London. I think Neill will be a solid crew member because of his street savvy mindset and keen adventure spirit.


Iakovos Dimitriades
Iakovos Dimitriades was born close to Thessaloniki, Greece. He moved to Greater Durban area in his teens and finished high school in SA. He then moved to Bloemfontein where he finished BAcc (Hons) and got educated in the finer ways of Afrikanerdom (I think if it wasn't for the Afrikaans influence in his life, he would have been a bum today ;) Iak and I got on really well since day 1. We shared a room for about 4 months before he hit the South East Asia routes for 4 months. Iak has been a great friend of mine and I think that his culturally sensitive heart will add great value to the crew. He counts others higher than himself and is always keen to get to know and understand others. He also has a wicked sense of humor which will surely be welcome at times!


Walter Fieuw
I am from a town called Paarl in the Western Cape originally; lived here all my life. I finished high school here and then was faced with two options: Theology of Business Management. I decided to follow my passion and completed my studies in Theology in a town called Wellington. I then moved to London where I've worked in finances for the past two and a half years. I am expecting that I will learn the African continent first hand on this trip. I intend to return to SA to study Development Studies at UCT in 2010 (insh'Allah) and therefore a understanding of the people will be greatly beneficiary. I've always wanted to do an adventure trip of such proportions (maybe the start of many!) and going through this with a open mind and heart is a given to me. I hope to add some culture to the crew by having a bit of exposure to West African music. I also hope to document this trip by photo and video to have these awesome memoirs!

Bon Voyage!

permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on September 28 from Cape Town, South Africa
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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Northern Cape Escapades

Cape Town, South Africa

I have been home for the past month and loving every moment of it. During this time, I had the chance to travel the Northern Cape of SA, a landmass that can be cruel to its people with drought and desertification always a fear. A few 100km's past Springbok is often called the Boesmanland but no one really know its boundaries. Salt mines are a common thing here. Legends circulate these lands and Borrie and I had the chance to chase some of these stories.

Before I met Borrie, I had the chance to visit a good friend from London days at their farm close to Garries. Stella is a keen photographer and teaches for a living. She told me so many stories about the farm and the Namakwaland people and so visiting them seemed natural to me. Oom Gert is also a renowned writer and the author of two excellent books, Vonke uit die Koeroeklip and As Murasies kon Praat. These are real stories of real people going about their peculiar lives. The evening we ate the Bushdoves that Nelis shot accompanied with sheep heart, liver, udder, kidney and other delicacies. I also had the opportunity to shoot my first of 5 Steenbok and went through the blood drink and raw kidney initiation. Great success!


Catholic Church, Pella, Northern Cape, SA
So I met Borrie in Springbok and after some sundowners on the N7, we drove through to Klein-Pella for the night. Waking up to the smell of fresh coffee gave us inspiration for the day. Here we had the chance to visit one of the most legendary SA religious landmarks found by a the gravel road town of Pella. Imagine this: The little cathedral was built from a photograph and none of the builders had adequate experience at the time. But it stills stands strong after 127 years and hopefully will do for some time to come. We drove along hundreds of kilometer's gravel road passed town and farms with the most bizzare name. These included: Keep Faith, Hope Lost, etc. We crossed some picturesque passes studded with the remains of the wild flower season that attract many nature lovers to these remote areas. Now there was this legendary guy, Johnny, hanging around in Vanrhynshoop. He is as Afrikaans as they come, but he tried to convince Borrie and I that he was from Durban and he wanted money to meet a relative. We offered that we will help him if he can find the missing registration plate (which we lost on the gravel roads) and he was quick to roll under the bakkie and examine, only to reply that he couldn't find it! We agreed to settle the beggar/ giver relationship by given him two oranges for lunch.


Walter and Johnny

Unwelcome morning sun

But before me looms the past 6 months' planning and the idea that it is now just 7 days ahead of me is kinda scary. Its all well and good to have this time mapped out, but the fear of the unknown can be quite overwhelming at times. I think that the best way to get past this fear is to live between the parameters of sensibility but also not to be prejudice in my view of the land and people.

All in all; an adventure of a lifetime lies ahead and I can't wait to get my teeth stuck into it.

PS: Any suggestions for good, entertaining reading material? I had in mind to read Tolstoy's War and Peace but wondering if it wont be too deep :|

permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 1 from Cape Town, South Africa
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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Great Start?

Cape Town, South Africa

So last night I arrive well in advance for my 19:00 flight to London via Doha, Qatar. On checkin the lady advises that there are massive delays in the J'burg - Cape Town transfer. So I see the new expected time of arrival is 22:00. Now what would you do to kill 3 hours? Listen to the latest Putumayo albums? I did so too. But while I was being swept away at the mystery expressed in African music, the PA system calls me with great urgency. Only once I layed my earphones down I hear my name being called.

'Will pasanger Walter Fieuw please reported to checkin desk 16'. I immediately knew something was wrong as the QR586 flight is no longer on the notice boards. So in my dazed condition, I run back past the passport control on my way to the front of the airport to get to checkin desk 16. However, I was stopped by an ACSA staff member advising me that I am illegally in the country as I was already checked out. After trying to convince the Police at the Passport control that I have already been checked in, I rush to find a Qatar representative.

'Naomi, what has happenned? Why are you looking for me? Where is the QR586 flight?' I was frantic. She told me that I missed the flight that was re-routed on BA and therefore missed my flight. 'But what does this mean Naomi? Am I stuck here now? I need to get to London Naomi; I really need to get to London!' So she put me on the KLM flight and I reached London via Amsterdam today safely... I hope this is the first and the last that this happens!!

permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 6 from Cape Town, South Africa
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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Morocco

Tanger, Morocco

(This is an arabic keyboard and its blerrie tough to get these keys right!)

Inside Djemaa el Fna
We arrived in Marrakech on Wednesday. Djemaa el Fna, the large square in the middle of the old city, was pulsating with energy as its well known for, even in off-season. The last time I was here, it was really a baptism of fire with over zealous vendors pushing to make a sale. But this time round, especially with a low tourist season, it was much more bearable. Djemaa el Fna is a gem. Every night the restuarants set up their scaffolding and they charm their guests from the square. There are dedicated people that just go out and hunt for people to eat at their stand. During the day, The square is littered with snake charmers, crazy head-swinging-clapping dancers, monkey tamers, etc etc; everything that makes an African market place, just more commercialised. Street culture here is something to talk about. I sometimes wonder if crime was less in South Africa, if we could also have what these people have. Crime really steals from culture - lets work to eradicate it!!


Djemaa el Fna from a terrasse


Walter and Ryan; July 2009
We didnt hang around to long and took the night train to Tangiers which is right in the north of Morocco. We were met by Ryan and Haitam. I have known Ryan for a while now and we have had some cool times together. He is an American doing his final thesis in cultural studies. In many ways we have so many thoughts in common so hanging out is always a joy! I met Haitam last time I was here with Emma and he is such a swell guy. We have never met before at that time, and he treated us like royal guests. The fabled genoristy of the Arab culture is personified in Haitam (so Haitam if you ever read this; you are a legend!) Anyway, so Tangiers is really a cool place. We joined Ryan to a meal with volanteers from the Streetchildren NGO where he works. We had some awesome seafood paella with Belgians, and a French- and Spanish guy (thanks for the crash course in Flamenca, Camil!). All in all, Tangiers is such a rish place. The Spanish coast is 20 odd km from across the bay and clearly visible. There are so many immigrants here all whishing for the better life of Europe. Just outside this internet cafe is a wall called the lazy wall. In the evenings its packed with people just taring over the coast and schming plans to get there but everyone is too lazy to get there. I was wondering whether the West is partly blamed for creating this flase illusions that everything is nice where we come from. I wonder how many people who successfully (and it will cost you 3,500 euros) crossed the straight will confess that the grass is not ,uch greener on the other side.

At 15:15 we will get on a 36h bus that will take us into the heart of West Sahara. We have decided its time to push on to get to Nauochott, Dakar and Bamako!



permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 11 from Tanger, Morocco
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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46 Hour Bus

Agadir, Morocco


I wish you were here
The last few hours in Tangiers was really fun. We went up to this lookout point having a view of the entire Tangiers on the one side and Spain on the other side of the straight. We had this huge Subway tipe sandwhich stuffed with chips, mince meat, egg and other delicacies. It was here that Niel started making hand signs and talking nonsense. We just discarded this as one of Niel^s special moments. And so we attempted this humungous trip acrossing the length of Morocco and pushing deep in West Sahara. We started on Sunday evening at midnight en route Casablanca. This was the first 6 hours of this gruling journey. It was not 2 hours into the trip when Niel had his episode: in a bus with no toilet. Luckily it was from the top and not the bottom so we tucked him in and waited for the stop. Everyone was clearly exhausted and I did not think straight, leaving my camera bag on the bus. We had to wait for it to come back and wasted 3 hours in which we really wanted to see the 3rd largest mosque in the world, Hasan 2. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise...


Tangier Terasse Hotel

And so we pushed on - at a frustrating max speed of about 90km/h. This was the speed of the entire journey and clearly frustrations aboutmaking so little distance in the time we spend. At Agadir we changed busses and the leg space was reduced by about a 1/3. My feet started swelling up and Iak also began feeling the fatigue of the journey. We met Stuart, a Brit on route Dakhla, West Sahara for a kite surfing gathering. He grew up in SA so it was nice to have some chats about the experiences he had back in the day and also about the Cult, Motorhead and other cool bands! We are on about 21 hours and still a few to go. We also met this very shy Senegalese guy and communicated even though we couldnt talk to one another. He liked Jason Upton on my mp3 player...


Stix spying on border police
We always knew that West Sahara would be intersting as its a Moroccan protectorate and many encounters with the police would be inevitable. We were stopped about 6 times asking the same questions. After the "rd time when explaining our occupation was Accountant/ Finance we switched to saying wr worked on computers and this seemed to do the trick! We were also very pleased to see that Stix Green (!!) joined our party and will hopefully give inspiration in times of need! Once we came into West Sahara, the contrast of landscape was uneal. On the right you had the vast Atlantic ocean and of the left the Sahara desert. I thought of the change our planet is undergoing and that deforestation and desertification could be disasterous for all of us.

A Solitary man was standing on the edge of a great cliff
I asked him where he was going
The desert thirst for his company;
And the ocean would not come to rest without his closeness
The sky, adorned in Heaven^s brushstrokes, was content


Dakhla by night
And finally we arrive in Daklha. This isnt a great picture but maybe it will give you an idea. It took us 46 hours to get here and we were well stoked to start looking for accomodation. Now we need to organise transport into Mauritania as there is no big bus company doing this trip. Our hope is a taxi to the border and then busses or to hitch a lift with people going that way... lets see how this works out!



permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 14 from Agadir, Morocco
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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First Border Crossing

Nouadhibou, Mauritania


Dakar Rally world
In the last entry I mentioned that we should now be looking for transport to the Mauritanian border and then push on to the capital Nouakchott. Well this was the procedure of events from Dakhla onward. We walk around in Dakhla on the lookout for a hotel that organises trips to Nouakchott. 4 hotels tell us that it will cost us 600 Dirhams, about 60 Euro. And so we decide on Hotel Sahara, and the 1/3 deposit is on the table. 'Are you guys traveling to Mauritania?' an odd accent from around the corner. And so we met the 58 year old Portugese man. He told us that we were being ripped off. The deal going with him was: You pay petrol and if the cops catch you, I pay the petrol and you pay the fine. The risk element lay in the fact that 2 of us will be laying in the back of his Nissan Cargo van-converted-to-a-mini-caravan vehicle at all times. So we think about it and next morning we are off, deciding that saving 3/4 of the 'normal' price is worth the risk.


Iak and Walt after first police check!
The first check point came only 6km from Dakhla. Iakovos and I are in the back. Passport check. Check the back of the van - and there lies the Greek and Belgian, stressing out. He calls us out and marches us to the police stop. I was really thinking this is the end of the lift and that we were going to be fined and sent back. But all is on our side and the police man whishes us a bon voyage! GREAT SUCCESS! And so starts the journey through the hot Sahara desert on a single lane highway crossing through the ever shifting dunes. This roads is only about 3 to 4 years old and the old roads was mostly covered in sand. A few years ago this must have been a deadly journey.

We reach the border crossing after a tiring drive. I was very interested to see whether the stories of these gruling border crossings were true or not. And it proved to be true. We arrived there at 16:00 with the knowledge that the Mauritanian border closes at 18:00. The Moroccan police keep us there for 2 1/2 hours and after bribes of cigarettes and money, they let us through. Then follows the 4 km Polisario held Western Sahara land under UN administration: an active minefield. We cross this and luckily they give us our last visas.

So an eventful first border crossing to say the least. But we made it and feel much more street smart now.



permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 15 from Nouadhibou, Mauritania
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Mauritania

Nouakchott, Mauritania


Nouadhibou
The last 2 nights we spent in Nouadhibou. We met Mahoudi last night and he was very entertaining. Iak and Niell wanted to try out camel meat and he said that he will be glad to make it for us. So we buy camel rump and cook it with onions in its own juices. This is then ate with bread - and what a delicacy it was!


The crew and truck on Highway Sahara
We then continued the trip onward to Nouakchott, 400 km from Nouadhibou. This is really Dakar Rally country and like I said in the last blog, the previous road that was still in use just a few years ago was completely under sand at times. We pushed through this very hot and humid day. This Portugese man is proving to be a real character. He tells us stories through his broken English about his travels over the past 20 years. He was a sailor for the majority of his life and now travels his pension through the world. He tells us that he has traveled around the world twice now and this is the second time he is doing Africa from top to bottom. North and South American, Asian highlands, Pacific; you name it, he's been there. We also met this one cool French surfer guy In Nouadhibou. We hoped to travel together to Dakar, but then things didn't work out in the back of the Nissan Corgo van. He has been traveling the world looking for the perfect wave for 10 years now. He said that in his Central American surf expeditions he found a deserted surfer shack in Guitamala and lived there for a year, surfing perfect, uncrowded A-frame tubes every day... What a life!!! He goes where the wind blows him.


Sahara Highway
On the road again - some thoughts came to me. Adventurers don't really think in the mindset of top-10 things or 'favorites' because they understand that every country/landscape/people group is uniaue in its own context. Driving through the Sahara, I saw something that was the exact opposite of this philosophy of cultural sensitivity. On the back of a Mauritanian roadsign, the graffiti said 'Scholtz to South Africa'. I thought that these people consider their overland trip more precious than respect for Mauritania. To be honest, not a whole lot happens here, but the arrogance of thinking that we own things while we travel offends me. That we can even become consumers of adventure/ travel/ 'otherness' and in so doing totally loose our humanity. I hope that we will never become like that.

We will be in Nouakchott to get our visas for Senegal and Mali and then we are off to experience West Africa music which I am sure will not dissappoint!


permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 17 from Nouakchott, Mauritania
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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Stray Birds

Nouakchott, Mauritania

Some thoughts from Rabindranath Tagore's Stray Birds on a hot Saharan day:

When I travelled to here and to there, I was tired of thee, O Road, but now when thou leadest me to everywhere I am wedded to thee in love.

What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow.

My wishes are fools, they shout across thy songs, my Master. Let me but listen.

The Perfect decks itself in beauty for the love of the Imperfect.

The infant flower opens its bud and cries, "Dear World, please do not fade."

Power said to the world, "You are mine. The world kept it prisoner on her throne. Love said to the world, "I am thine." The world gave it the freedom of her House.

The noise of the moment scoffs at the music of the Eternal.

Asks the Possible to the Impossible, "Where is your dwelling place?"
"In the dreams of the impotent," comes the answer.

"I am ashamed of my emptiness," said the Word to the Work.
"I know how poor I am when I see you," said the Work to the Word

permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 19 from Nouakchott, Mauritania
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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Movement

Rosso, Mauritania

Movement leaves an impact on us. Think about the bittersweet emotions on airports. Or the therapeutic tap-tap of trains passing over the sleepers. What about the 'staring into the distance' when traveling by sea or river. All considered, when we move, we grow as we dream and think and muse.

This line from a song is playing in my head:

'If they asks for the sign of the Father in you, tell them its movement, movement, movement' mwY

And then I'm listening to this song a lot...

In Exile, by: Thrice

I am in exile, a sojourner
A citizen of some other place
All I've seen is just a glimmer in a shadowy mirror
But I know, one day we'll see face to face

I am a nomad, a wanderer
I have nowhere to lay my head down
There's no point in putting roots too deep when I'm moving on
Not settling for this unsettling town

My heart is filled with songs of forever
The city that endures when all is made new
I know I don't belong here, I'll never
Call this place my home, I'm just passing through

I am a pilgrim, a voyager
I won't rest until my lips touch the shore
Of the land that I've been longing for as long as I've lived
Where they'll be no penalties anymore

My heart is filled with songs of forever
The city that endures when all is made new
I know I don't belong here, I'll never
Call this place my home, I'm just passing through


So whether you're reaching up, reaching in, our reaching out; always keep on moving because stagnation kills the soul.

permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 19 from Rosso, Mauritania
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Baptism of Fire

Dakar, Senegal


Senegal - What lies ahead?
Whew, a whole lot has happened in the last 48 hours. We set out from Nouakchott, very excited to see Senegal even though we heard it could be a gruling place. Driving past the informal settlement of the last few hundred kilometers of Mauritania, crossing a fiery border was far from my mind. But so we arrived at the border. The persistant hands and faces through the windows signified that we were in for zealous deal makers. We were met by a Mauritanian border police man. He took our passports. Silence. 'You're visas expired 2 days ago' fell like a hammer on ice. We looked, and would be damned, but he was right. When we entered the country, the border police back dated the visa by 3 days from a sunday to a sunday, thus leaving us illegal in 'no man's land'. But there's a price for everything in Africa and once we agreed on a new visa of $30 each, we were on the move. We have a persistant tail with us ensuring that he will look after us. We crossed over the River Senegal on a vehicle ferry. What lies ahead would be our baptism of fire, the first real African border crossing going solo (we lost contact with George and his Nissan cargo van in Nouakchott as we stayed at different places).

The barricade is lowered. Out rushes people with large 'mielie sakke' and trucks, 4x4s etc; in rushes sunglasses sellers, money changers, etc. So at this sensory overload, people take chances. Walking through the knee deep waters of the River Senegal, a man in his civvies ask for our passports. The tail tells us he is police. But I have no proof that these guys are scammers and I refuse to comply. The man gets aggressive. The people crowd and move among us. I persist. He persists. The tail comforts sayings its okay, and we hand it over. Off he goes, on we go. We are lead to a small room where we wait. 5 minutes. Money changers enter. 20 minutes. They push for deals but we wait for the passports. 35 minutes. And the relief; he is back, asking for cash for border stamps. We give it and he is off again. But I follow him this time and face up to the legitimate police, who hands over Neill and my passports; Iakovos' being kept behind. The reason? Greece isn't in Euro Zone and Hellenist isn't a nationality, only Greek. We knew a bribe was in the making. Long story short, we ended up speaking to the police chief who assured the police man Iak has a legit entry into Senegal. But the police man's pride is dented and keeps pushing Iak's passport to the back. Eventually, after 2 hours of border corssing, we are walking off to the garage; only to start the next experience: the African bussing system!


Dakar, Senegal
We arrive at the garage for a lift to Dakar. We find a good looking bus with amper space for 4 people. The driver says we leave in 30 minutes and we agree that its a good deal and pay the cash. 3 hours (!!) later, we are off. And instead of 4 people, 8 people. We are sour. On top of that, the driver short cutted the Customs regulations and we were stopped 4 times, unpacking most of the bus. So this 370km journey ended up taking us 13 hours to complete, arriving the the big, dangerous, Johannesburg-type city of Dakar. Its 3 am, we are tired. After getting a taxi to central Dakar, the receptionist at the hotel refuses that we pay in the morning, and we dont have cash yet. No ATMs around. So we walk out on him and go and sit at a Shell garage, waiting for sunrise to get a room and sleep the day through. All went well and we are rested again. I was also very nearly mugged today and if I had something in my left shorts pocket, it would have been stolen now.

So basically, just really the ropes of the notorious French West Africa at the moment. We feel much more street smart and understand the thugs' tricks. But all considered, loving these people and cant wait to see some live music tomorrow evening

permalink written by  afrikawasbeer on October 21 from Dakar, Senegal
from the travel blog: Traveling Africa Overland
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'When I traveled to here and to there, I was tired of thee, O Road, but now when thou leadest me to everywhere I am wedded to thee in love.'

I hope that you find some inspirational message of hope, love and redemption through the pages of this travel diary

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