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MOTO-SURFING IN SANDY SUDAN:
Willem de Wet's Motorcycle Diaries: The Nubian Desert
WADI HALFA
It was early April 08 when I arrived on the weekly ferry from Aswan. Wadi Halfa was a dusty, desperate, wind torn, frontier town, trying to live up to it more prosperous past. However, after all the anxious moments in obtaining a Sudanese visa in time for my departure from South Africa weeks earlier, it was great to know that I was now in Sudan!
As the barge transporting my motorcycle would only be arriving the following day, a “hotel” stay in Wadi Halfa was a given. The Deffintoad Hotel, like all the other hotels in Wadi Halfa, provided dormitory style accommodation consisting of nothing more than four mud walls, a floor and a basic zinc roof atop. I did not mind, as I was not expecting anything more and after Egypt, this was where the real adventure would start.
All foreigners entering Sudan are required to register with the Alien Registration office before proceeding with their journey. The greater part of the afternoon was spent on chasing the required paper work and the all very important signatures; which was eventually only issued the next morning in timeless Africa. Sudan is a good place lose your watch for the duration of such a trans-continental tour.
Desperately hungry after the ferry ride, it was now time to try some of the local Sudanese fare. A couple of open air “restaurants” under the blazing sun were given a miss in lieu of an “up market” establishment with a roof and a couple of paddle fans. A meal with a choice between chicken, goat meat, fish and cabbage with a couple of ubiquitous flies worked into a sauce, were soon enough hungrily gulped down.
THE NUBIAN DESERT
In Luxor, Egypt, I met two intrepid English brothers in their old Range Rovers, full to the rafters with everthing imaginable, making their way south...... slowly. Being lonely travelers with a common purpose on the dusty roads leading south, we instantly bonded over a couple of beers and decided to tackle the journey from Wadi Halfa to Khartoum together.
Driving to Khartoum from Wadi Halfa presented one with essentially two options;
1. the “main” route that hugs the Nile via Dongola or the;
2. Lesser traveled desert route, following General Kitchener’s railway and telegraph line through the Nubian Desert to Abu Hamed.
Still adventure hungry, the decision was instantly made to follow the railway line for 348km through the sandy Nubian Desert to Abu Hamed.
Departure morning broke with a warm ferocity. All dressed up and ready to go I made my way back to the barge mooring jetty. A late arrival of the barge, difficulty with the offloading of the vehicles and clearance procedures, set our departure from Wadi Halfa back to 15h00 that afternoon. However, it was great to have my trusted BMW 1200 GS back and idling softly after being dropped into the cargo hold of the barge earlier during its journey across Lake Nasser.
Leaving Wadi Halfa on the only tar road leaves one with a short lived and false sense of “oh this is going to be easy”. Without warning, the road abruptly spills into the softest desert sand. It was touch and go and I nearly dropped my bike on the very first, fesh-fesh patch of desert sand!
Navigational aids consisted of a GPS with T4A software loaded and a railway line with old telegraph poles that lined the horizon. It was hard to imagine that the railway line, that was conceived by General Kitchener in 1896, as the means to ferry his troops and ammunitions south to beat the hell out of the rebellious Khalifa in Khartoum, reached Abu Hamed, after 5 months in October 1897 and 350km of un-surveyed and waterless desert later.
Old, windblown vehicle tracks crisscrossed the desert plains and I quickly learnt to avoid them and cut my own virgin track in the sand. My sand riding confidence grew rapidly and riding at speed in the sand became a pleasure, once I mastered to “plane” my bike. Needless to say that exhilarating power slides and cut-backs quickly followed on.
As the sun started to inch down over the horizon, finding a suitable camping spot for the night became necessary. We found it behind a solitary kopje, shielding us from the brisk evening desert breeze.
Once our engines had been switched off, the quiet desolation of sand and rock engulfed us. The great charm of a desert sunset !
A quick meal and a short reflection on the days’ action provided the medicine for a peaceful sleep under the stars.
THE SUN and SAND MONSTER
We were ready to go at sunrise. Riding in the cool, early morning on the firmer desert sand was an absolute pleasure. Opening the throttle and gunning for the land speed record on the flat desert plains is a memory to behold forever.
Deeper into the desert, we stopped at a number of the train “stations” ( there are 10 in total with halfway stops in between) which consisted of no more than a few derelict buildings and outhouses. Life as a station master a 100 or so years ago out here in desert must have been tough and no wonder they are now mostly no longer inhabited!
There was little sign of anything living or dead but for the odd camel carcass. No grass or any dried up bushes. The scene was tinged brown – dark brown rocks, light brown sand, bleach brown telegraph poles and blue brown sky (from the dust in the air). The rocky hills that we saw occasionally on the horizon floated above a shimmering mirage of mercuric silver. It was hot – and the wind was an absolute scorcher adding another hot dimension to biking through the desert.
South of Station 4 the sand became thicker, drier, softer and unkind to an already sweating motorcyclist.
After a forward body roll in the sand, digging the bike out of the soft sand and straining against its dead weight to pick it up in my warm riding gear, was energy sapping hard work. Revving the engine and smelling the burning clutch on release was most “disturbing”. No toadside assistance out here in the desert I thought for a moment ! Finding firmer ground next to the train tracks helped for a while. However, danger lurked everywhere. Broken train track bolts with sharp serrated edges and donga like wash-a-ways became increasingly more treacherous than the “safer” sandy dunes.
By noon we reached Station 6 which had a deep water well, with a camel thorn shade tree and a couple of inhabitants. It was a good enough place for a lunch break, to fuel up from my jerry can and a short nap during the heat of day.
Too soon it was time to move on again as we pushed on into the afternoon desert heat. The landscape remained starkly beautiful with never ending mirages dancing on the horizon.
By late afternoon, short of Station 8, we decided to set-up camp for the night on the open desert plains. There was no rocky outcrops this time around to provide any meaningful shelter. Once again the sun set on the desert horizon was spectacular.
In the cool of the next morning, we were mobile again, heading south east towards the town Abu Hamed . After reaching station 9 the landscape also started to change quickly. More rocky outcrops, the odd thorn tree and camel grass here and there to colour in the picture.
The road south of Station 10 (GPS 19°41'48”N 33°08'46”E), marked the start of formal civilization again. There were large scale road building and housing projects taking place. Ostensibly to support a Nile irrigation project in the area. All of a sudden there were trucks, taxi’s and construction vehicles on the fairly new dusty, gravel road which eventually wound into Abu Hamed (GPS 19°32'11”N 33°20'19”E)..
THE MEROE PYRAMIDS
We stopped to refuel and found, not-so-hot, soft drinks which were a welcome relief to our dusty throats. Thanks to Tracks4A we easily found our way though the small town where all the buildings and streets had the same muddy and dusty look. We experienced no hassles at the police check point on the outskirts of the town and soon we were on our way to Atbara- on a fantastic asphalt road.
We made good progress with the only hold up being the omni present police check points. Atbara was a revelation in that we found the entire market place deserted at noon. Almost everyone was attending prayers at the nearby mosque and not a thing was locked up. There is no culture of stealing here! Here we also met more friendly Sudanese locals, sharing their meagre fresh fruit with us, wanting nothing in return.
By mid afternoon we reached the Meroe Pyramids(GPS 16°56'12”N 33°44'50”E) just of the main road between Atbara and Khartoum. From a distance it was already impressive sighting. Steering my bike down the sandy gravel road towards the pyramids, I mentally pinched myself, still not believing that I have managed to bike so far South without incident.
We paid our entry fees at the gate and were soon “politely” surrounded by a few souls offering us camel rides to the pyramids or some local curios. We decided to set up camp first before exploring the pyramids and followed the very sandy track around some dunes to set up camp in a secluded spot behind the pyramids. There were no other tourists or visitors at either the dune campsite or the pyramids and we could explore the grandeur of theses construction master pieces alone and at leisure.
These Pyramids from the Northern Cemetery at Meroë dates back from the 3rd c. B.C. to 4th c. A.D. By the 4th c. B.C., the Kushite kings had moved south to the Sudanese savannah and built a capitol at Meroë. Here southern cultural traditions slowly prevailed over the cultural heritage of Egypt. The pyramid clusters are split into two sections about 1km apart and the northern section is the most impressive with about 60 pyramids in this group although only about 20 are easily seen or relatively intact. Some of these have been restored by the Sudanese antiquities department back in the late 1970's early 1980's.
I felt privileged to be able to camp in the dunes adjacent these wonderful timeless structures and having them all to myself for one day.
THE TEMPLES OF MUSAWWARAT ES SUFRA & NAQA
Closer to El Amaren and thanks to my GPS, we found the unmarked turnoff to Musawwarat es Sufra. You really need to love temple sightings and sand to drive down this road! After about 40 kilometers into the “wilderness” one starts doubting whether this could be the temple route. However, then the ruins of Musawwarat’s Great Enclousure appears in front of you. After paying the local “ghaffir” the necessary entrance fees we could explore the “Great Enclosure” at leisure.
In 1822, when the first European expedition visited the site of Musawwarat es-Sufra, except for a few contours of the outer north wall and some columns remaining visible, the temple was found in ruins. In 1960, the Sudan government granted Humboldt University-Berlin permission to begin excavations; the Lion Temple was the first to be investigated. Over 800 collapsed blocks from the outer walls, depicting well-preserved contours were uncovered from the sand. When restoration work commenced in the early seventies, hieroglyphic inscriptions revealed Arnekhamani (c.235-c.218 BC) as the King who had commissioned the building of the Lion Temple, which he dedicated to the lion-headed Meroitic god, Apedemak - responsible both for creation and war.
It was already extremely hot by then and after short stop, a kilometer down the road, at the Lion Temple of Musawwarat, we headed for the temples at Naqa further down some unmarked dirt roads. A dry river crossing of about 500m through thick, soft sand added to my adventure biking thrill. I was overjoyed to emerge unscathed on the opposite river bank. It was also here that T4A tracks failed me for the first time. There was a major discrepancy between the actual track and the GPS indicated one.
Nonetheless, the very remote Naqa was found a hour or 2 later. It was well worth the effort. The temple of Amun, the “Roman” Kiosk and adjoining Lion Temple were stunning finds out here in the Sudanese wilderness.
In close proximity of these temples were a large group of nomadic camel herders watering their camels, goats and sheep by employing a camel to pull a large goatskin sack of water from the water- well.
It was getting late and time to head for Khartoum which was still several kilometers away. I tried the GPS indicated shortcut through a thorn bush to the main road, but the thorn bush was victorious and eventually strangled my best efforts.
On the road south towards Khartoum there were frequent police checkpoints and the traffic also dramatically started to increase as we reached the outskirts of Omdurman and Khartoum. Peak hour afternoon traffic in every African city, where the road infra structure is insufficient or non existent, I soon discovered were best avoided on a motorcycle.
As the sun was setting, we crossed the Nile over a beautiful old girder bridge and into Khartoum proper. Once again T4A came through and guided me through the chaotic traffic, straight to gates of the Blue Nile Sailing Club (BNSC) GPS 15°36'41”N 32°32'05”E),.
KHARTOUM TO THE GALLABAT BORDER
We pitched our tents on the lawn in front of BNSC at dusk and saw the sun setting over the Nile. Never was a shower as refreshing or a cool drink as cold and sweet.
The focal point of the BNSC is Generals' Gordon and then Kitchener’s gunboat the Melik. Being well over a century old, it was swept ashore by an exceptional flood in 1987 - an event that undoubtedly saved her from an ignominious end. Now, from its high perch on the banks of the Nile River it remains a nostalgic reminder Sudan earlier embattled history.
For two days we relaxed in the shade of the Melik and took in the sound and sights of Khartoum. We viewed the confluence of the Blue and White Nile to form the mighty Nile River from an amusement park restaurant downstream from BNSC.
It was time to move on once again after a pleasant stay at the BNSC. Heading south-east out of the city, through the more prosperous suburbs and shopping complexes lining the freeway, it was not long before we left dusty, noisy Khartoum behind
We continued our journey on toward Wad Medani where we crossed and said goodbye to the Blue Nile which I would not see again before Bahir Dar, Ethiopia. By early afternoon we reached Gedaref where we refueled our vehicles. We were looking forward in completing the last 100kms to the border in good time for late afternoon border crossing into Ethiopia.
However, ones best plans are sometimes not good enough for Africa. Fifteen kilometers from the Ethiopian border at Mtema it started to rain. Unexpected and surreal - a cloudburst in Sudan! Approximately 10 km from the border we came to some road works with the main road south closed down. There was a kilometer long detour through the bush and what was minutes before a dry riverbed. This was also to be my first dreadful acquaintance with black cotton soil.
It is impossible to drive or push a motorcycle with knobblies and lowly slung front mudguard through this type of mud. The mud sticks like glue to everything! I soon discovered the process to make ground as follows:
1. drive no more than 10 meters forward in mud – front wheel jams solid and bike and rider falls over.
2. get screwdriver out and scrape sufficient mud out to , after 30minutes, dislodge front wheel.
3. unpack luggage and pick heavy bike up. Note that locals are not keen to assist in this type of mud.
4. repack luggage and repeat process from start
Needless to say that after 2 hours I was dog tired, slippery dirty to the core and only halfway to the main road again. To complicate matters further, several trucks were stuck in front of me in the middle of the road.
My travel companions by this time bashed through the mud in Range Rover 4X4 mode and patiently waited for me on the other end with shouts of encouragement. Just as I was ready to spend the night next to road and wait for matters to improve, I found a small, but firmer passage on slightly higher ground. Oh joy ! I eventually got through within another hour. Man and machine dirty as never before.
It was already dark by the time we reached the border. Racing between dispersed buildings to get the necessary stamps in my passport and vehicle exit clearance, remained as tricky and drawn out affair as the evening prayers which commendably took precedence. In pitch darkness (no electricity here) the gate eventually lifted and I rolled over the border into Ethiopia and my first cold beer in weeks.
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