Beach driving

Some parts of the Sahara we want to cross contain active mine fields laid in recent conflicts between Moroccans and Mauritanians. A way to avoid these regions is to drive part of the way along the beaches of the Atlantic ocean. During low tide there is just enough space to drive a car safely Southwards along the beach. That´s our plan for today.

With yesterday´s experience under our belt we are more relaxed about the driving, and we take turns to sit on the car´s window sill enjoying the cooling breeze. Some passages are so sandy that we have to deflate our tires almost to the point where they fall off the rim. Our guide helps us gauge how much air to let out. With this trick we glide over the sand more easily, but nonetheless every so often one of our cars gets stuck. Most of the time we don´t have to do much digging as we just attach it to the 4x4 to get it pulled out. Thank God for that.

The beach driving starts at the entrance to the Parc National du Banc d'Arguin. There is a village near the entrance, and as we pull up we are surrounded by some children that had seen our cars coming. Some of the other teams have collected items at home to give to the poor kids along the way. These kids certainly look poor enough to be able to use writing materials, soccer balls and such. Unfortunately, as soon as the first kid receives a hand full of gifts all the other children are alerted. A true frenzy breaks out. More and more kids come rushing from the town to surround our cars. Mario and I don´t have anything to hand out, so the children leave us alone at first, but as time progresses we are also harassed by the kids looking for gifts.

At first our other team mates are still trying their best to give out their gifts, but soon there are children everywhere, screaming and besieging the car trying to get their hands inside. It is a nightmare, not at all what our helpful team mates imagined. Frantically they struggle to get all the children's hands out of the car, close the windows, and lock the doors. To escape the mob we flee to the other side of the village where the children can´t follow us anymore.

Later on we find out that the kids living in this Mauritanian village are not very poor at all, as most tourists traveling in Mauritania will enter the only national park this country has to offer, and thus pass the village. Most tourists have something to give to these children, and so the kids receive pens, notebooks and soccer balls all the time. Apparently they are not allowed to keep them, though, but have to turn them in to be sold on the black market later on.

This is the first time on our trip we get asked for cadeaux, the French word for present. From here on this word will follow us all the way to Banjul, as the first thing many people - children, adults, and police men alike - will ask us for is cadeaux. It almost seems to be the equivalent of saying hello to tourists in this part of the world. Politely declining to give anything seems to earn us respect from the locals, as they are used to getting something from all the tourists.

As we wait for low tide we spend some time relaxing at the beach. Mario and I take a dip in the ocean, since it has been days since our last shower. The water is surprisingly cold, but a good refreshment with the midday sun searing down on us.

The drive along the beach proves even more challenging than the desert driving. The beach is sometimes only three meters wide, and besides avoiding to get stuck in the sand we now also have to dodge the waves. If water gets the motor of a regular fuel car like ours, the motor is ruined and we are doomed.

The sand has formed speed-bump-like humps perpendicular to the beach every 20 feet, and again we ought to glide over these bumps smoothly. Unfortunately, our poor driving skills leave us nothing but to fly over the bumps Starsky & Hutch style, dipping deep into the sand in between bumps. The suspension is aching terribly as the wheels regularly scrape the insides of the fender upon impact.

We pass another group from the PBC challenge and see one of the passengers, a Latvian girl we had met in Dakhla, lying on the beach apparently hurt. We later on hear the she had broken her leg trying to hold down a rope of one of the fishing barges that anchor at the beach. She stepped on the rope so the cars could pass over it, when to rope was caught by one of the cars. She was taken by her team mates to the hospital in Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania 200 km South.

tags: Plymouth-Banjul, Aachen, Rallye, Paris-Dakar, Africa, Sahara, Mauretania