2019-04-14 Travel from Nouakchott, Mauritania to Saint-Louis Senegal

2019-04-14 Travel from Nouakchott, Mauritania to Saint-Louis Senegal

100 miles of washboard, cavernous chuck holes and soft sand in a sardine packed mini-van with a roof piled high with human plunder😮 and the Mauritanian driver who drove 50+ miles per hour rattling teeth, jarring joints and backbones, bottoming out the suspension and undercarriage at high speeds and weaving from side to side not missing potholes but trying to dodge them (for the most part there was not enough space between them to fit the van). His favorite thing to do was to occupy the same lane as oncoming traffic and holding his ground at high speeds until they veered out of the way; he would flash his headlights to warn them he was not to be challenged. I was sitting right next to him (center seat/knees under chin) and observed his serene yet possessed demeanor 😯. But I'm not criticizing him, he was just doing his job, and quite good according to the standards and resources of the local culture.

And he got us through the many check points and Mauritanian side of the border crossing. And as a big of a hurry he was in, he stopped and pointed out some warthogs for me to photograph. He was an interesting fellow, and I had a lot of respect for him and realized this was how he eeked out a living and he was good at it. I liked him.

The fellow to my right riding shotgun was Ceasar, a young man from Mauritania (yet a descendant from lower Africa) who had been working in Spain and France so spoke Spanish (& French and Arabic). He became my interpreter to the driver. When one penetrates the deeper reaches of these northern African countries French is only the second language (or non-existent) and one of the Arabic languages is primary. So the driver, who was of a pure Arabic lineage, and I could only communicate through Ceasar.

Regardless we had an interesting companionship there in the front seat. I could tell from the start the driver was on a mission and was not to be distracted, so Ceasar and I got acquainted using Spanish in our quiet voices. On a stop the driver bought himself a chocolate bar. I could tell that was his equivalent to a cup of coffee before the day's journey. Down the road I was moved when he offered me some. I then purchased a couple of bags of tangerines that the three of us shared through out the morning. It was very cool. Three different cultures on an expedition that not only penetrated the depths of the barren land and persistent survival of a desert people, but the newness we each experienced sitting next to persons of far-off lands. I am so inspired to continue my travels, regardless of my aging body, by experiences such as these.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania :
This is the best road out of 100 miles of driving from Nouakchott, Mauritania to the Diama border crossing.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania. 

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania.

Oiseaux de Djoudj National Park National Park in Mauritania.

Here are some people moving themselves and their worldly possessions.

Here, my fellow passengers and I are being sold by our Mauritanian bus driver to a Senegalese bus driver. (He doesn't cross the border and the tickets are for all the way to Dakar although I'm getting out in Saint Louis.) — in Diama, Saint-Louis, Senegal.

This is the border crossing at Diame, Mauritania side. Goodbye to extreme poverty.
Hello to Senegal, poor also, but not near as.