Odyssee to Diama Dam

We are worried that the mob will follow and rob us if we stay in Rosso, but a drive back to Nouakchott is impossible, as the sun is already going down. Driving in Africa at night is crazy, and nobody does it. Biggest problem besides the potholes is locals often walk along the streets at night, and - I am not making this up - black people are very hard to see in the dark!

Our last option is to head over to the Diama Dam somehow. The road book explains that the road to Diama is almost impossible to find, as it doesn´t look like a road at all for the first kilometer or so, and certainly doesn´t have a sign pointing towards Diama:

At waypoint N16° 30.900' W15° 48.866' there is a Naftec petrol station on the right. Turn to the right (south of) after it. Turning off the main road involves driving down a fairly steep dirt track slope that is rutted from past rainwater run-off. It looks as if it goes nowhere but proceed at 90° to the main road with a wall on your left and the Naftec station on your right. (...)

We try to follow the instructions in the book to the letter, but there just is no road to find, and we feel our mob closing in on us. By now the night is pitch black, and we start driving aimlessly across the fields next to the main road. We get out the compass, as the Diama road should be pointing exactly west, but all the dirt tracks we are able to get to point somewhere else. Because we keep getting lost we place items on the road so we can recognize if we have been somewhere before. It helps, and finally after about two hours driving aimlessly about we are pretty confident we are on the right track.

The dirt track is very hard to drive on, because there is not a single track to follow. At all times there are multiple tracks next to each other, some on top of the dam, some on the side of it, or even up to 20 feet into the bushes. It looks like Africans make a new track every time the original dirt road has been washed away by heavy rains. While this bears a challenge when driving during the day, it makes our ride a nightmare in the dark night.

If we find a piece of track to drive on we are constantly slowed down by potholes of various sizes, some as big as the car itself. Around midnight we hit one particularly big hole and the car stops. Suddenly there is silence. The darkness all around us creeps in, and the car won't start again. This is great, since we're both not very good with cars. We open the hood and have a look. The whole air filter sitting on top of the carburetor has come off, and it does not look good from the little I can recognize.

Just as we try to asses the damage we hear a truck coming up for behind, the only car we have heard or seen on the whole drive to Diama. Immediately I get out the pepper spray my brother gave me for the trip. We turn off all the lights and pray this is not the angry mob from Rosso. An old Mercedes van stops next to us, and three fellows get out. To our relief they are not the guys from Rosso, and just want to help us. I explain to them what I found out, and they find a piece of old wire in their car to attach the air filter back. To my amazement it works and thanks to their help we can continue our tour.

Two hours later we think we arrived in Diama, but the darkness engulfs everything. We cannot see whether there are houses or other roads besides the one we are on, so we decide to hide the car in the bushes and sleep inside the vehicle. We are still worried, but at one time we do fall asleep after an exciting day.

tags: Plymouth-Banjul, Rallye, Paris-Dakar, Diama Dam