Crossing the border to Mauretania

Our group leaves Dakhla at 5 am early in the morning to reach the Mauretanian border as early as possible. Even though we are only covering 300 km today on well-paved roads we have to be at the border early to minimize the wait. Clearing both sides of the border can take a very long time, and we want to make sure that tonight we are on Mauretanian soil, and not stuck in no-mans land between the two countries.

Our convoy of five cars heads South through the sleepy night. Watching the sun rise over the desert is a beautiful sight, and a nice reward for getting up so early. At 10 am we arrive at the Morokkan border. There is a line of about fifty cars and trucks in front of us, a mix of tourists and locals. They must either be here since yesterday, or must have headed to the border even earlier than we did, as we didn't see any cars at all on the only road leading to the border.

At the Morokkan side of the border everything looks like chaos, as hords of people bunch up in front of various offices, with no sign of any procedureal information. We ask our way through, and after a while it becomes clear where we have to stand in line, and who to give which paper to. All in all it's just a lot of waiting, and we try to pass time playing backgammon.

Six hours later we clear the Morokkan toll gate and head through a strip of no-man's land towards the Mauretanian border. The road book warned not to move off track here as this strip is heavily mined, and we are thoroughly worried when we see several burnt-out vehicles along the road. The fact that there is not one but multiple rocky tracks leading through this mine-field just adds to the excitement. Only after crossing do we find out that burnt-out cars are from days past, and that the mine fields have since been cleared.

While the Morokkan border actually had a few brick buildings with a Morokkan flag showing, the Mauretanian side comes as a surprise, as it consists of nothing more than two makeshift wooden shacks, so small and torn up that you wouldn't even suspect a homeless person to dwell there. Not very representative.

The border guards are relatively friendly, we are quickly done with our paperwork here including buying car insurance for Mauretania. We have hired a guide at the camp site in Dakhla to lead us though the desert, and we pick him up at the border. He is a quiet, wiry Beduin, dressed in the traditional Djellaba, a long hooded robe. He leaves a trustworthy impression, but we can just hope he knows the desert by heart, since teams have previous years have reported trouble with some of the desert guides. He will drive with the first car of our convoy giving directions, while the last car is the 4-wheel drive, and these two cars can communicate with via the radio.

It is close to sundown by the time we are finally in Mauretania, and after a short while our guide has us pull off the paved road at a sand dune to set up our first camp in the Sahara. We make a bonfire out of wooden crates we collected along the way, and imagine how the next days will unfold. Soon the fire is out and it's time to go to sleep.

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