I actually found the place by luck, I didn’t ask anyone for directions, I just drove my car up and down the peninsula of Nouadhibou. I wanted to get an overview of one of the most dilapidated cities I had ever seen. This is where Iron Ore Train ends, one of the longest trains in the world, which makes Nouadhibou the most important area in poor Mauritania.

When A White Western Woman Enters The Office Of The Mauritanian Railway Authorities.

So here I was, walking into the shed of the Mauritanian Railway Authorities to enquire about the possibility to transport my car and myself to Choum, approximately 500 km east of Nouadhibou. The deal was done in the blink of an eye. With one place still available, I could put my car on the train. I only had to decide immediately, since the train was about to leave. I quickly checked my water and food supply, which would last for some days and gave it a go. 120 Euros for the car plus myself was a fair price and within the next couple of minutes, my car was loaded and tied to a platform for vehicles. My ticket said no passengers in the car, but nobody obliged when I asked if I could spend the journey in or on the car. I started making arrangements for the coming 30 hours: water, food, snacks were all at hand, towel, toothbrush and toilet paper on the dashboard, cameras and mobile phone as well within easy reach. Check, check, double check.

It took hours of turning switches, pulling the wagons and platforms up and down the tracks, back and forth to have them all in right position ready for the long journey East. Finally, around 8pm, after seven hours of waiting (talk about an immediate decision making), everything was set and the train took off honking repeatedly, taking the endless semicircle track out of Nouadhibou.

A Long, Rocking Night, The Most Beautiful Sunrise And A Frustrating Awakening.

Even with 40° Celsius during daytime, temperatures drop fast and I was happy that I had blankets and a sleeping bag nearby. Lying outstretched in the back of my station wagon, the night was almost comfortable… well not really, but better than expected. Nights in the desert are cold and pitch-black. I knew this from my trips across the Sahara Desert in the 70s & 80s and so I wasn’t able to see anything when the train stopped at night. I just heard voices somewhere in the distance. The position of my platform was near the end of the train, so I was not bothered by anyone during the night.

Morning arrived and I watched a beautiful sunrise while the train tugged leisurely into Choum. The wind had covered everything with layers of sand mixed with dust of iron ore from the wagons. Choum was actually the place where I had planned to get off, but I quickly realised that there was no loading off point for cars. “Sorry Madam, next stop for unloading cars is Zouérat” I was told, though in the guys in Nouadhibou had told me otherwise. Unloading cars in Choum was only recently stopped, so there was no chance for me to get off here. This was a bit upsetting, because it would put me approximately 200 km in the wrong direction, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I sat back down on top of my car and looked into the Mauritanian desert.

The toilet situation was a bit of a hassle. It was a new experience for sure. Hanging out of the car, hanging on to the platform needed concentration, one wrong move and you could fall off. I got the hang of it after a couple of times.

From Hero To Zero.

Another few hours further, with lots of stops in between, the train finally pulled into Zouérat. Again, the turning of switches, pulling and pushing of wagons took two hours until my platform finally came to a halt somewhere in the middle of nowhere. All I could see was how the Diesel locomotive pulled away.

Close by, though lightyears away, I could see the unloading facility for cars. Another platform was already loaded for the trip back to Nouadhibou, while my car was just a stone throw away, without a chance of getting off. This was very annoying and put my patience to the test. I asked several officers and workers when my car would be unloaded and I got the same answer every time “In a while Madam”. In Africa, “in a while” can mean one hour, five hours, 12 hours or more than 24 hours. Time runs slow here. So, after waiting another three hours in the soaring heat, with someone occasionally walking by, noticing my impatience yet not doing anything, my nerves went rock bottom. I stepped down from platform and walked along the railway tracks up to the station office and demanded to speak to the station master.

Mauritanians are generally very polite people but are definitely not used to talking to Western (female) tourists. The country is dominated by males, especially in this business. Politeness is very helpful and I demanded politely to see the station master. It took a while until one of the men started to move to show me the way to his office. After a couple of minutes, this guy came out of his office with some other officers in tow, and was frankly quite irritated to see a Western woman demanding to speak to him. I explained my situation and he and the others didn’t seem to be bothered at all and said that my car would be unloaded in a while. Then it was over, my nerves collapsed and I started crying.

My breakdown changed the entire situation. The officers stared at me and my crying, not sure whether to be astonished or shocked and immediately started talking in their local language. After a minute of discussion, the station master said I should stop crying, they will immediately start the Diesel locomotive and will unload my car within 10 minutes.

What more can I say? The station master guided me to his car, drove me back to my car and presented me with a big box of water bottles. During my breakdown, I might have also mentioned that I was running out of water, which I hoped would increase the unloading process, and he must have really felt sorry for me. It didn’t take long and my platform was towed up and down the tracks to bring me to the unloading section. The car was unlocked from the platform, I drove down and followed the station masters car until I was on the right road back to Choum where I actually had planned to get off.

This evening I stopped near a military checkpoint along the road and asked for permission to sleep nearby, since there was no hotel to be found anywhere. I set up my tent and fell asleep immediately.

The Iron Ore Train fills its 2.5 km of wagons (which is the second longest on earth) with the iron ore and then heads back to the coastal city of Nouadhibou.

The view off the coast of Mauritania’s Bay of Nouadhibou used to be spotted with rusting hulks in every direction. Today, this Ship Breaking Yard is almost gone, due to an injection of capital from the Chinese.

The Mauritanian Railways opened in 1963. It consists of a single, 704 km railway line linking the iron mining centre of Zouérat with the port of Nouadhibou.

Two or three trains make a daily departure to pick up iron ore from a mine in Eastern Mauritania.

Uploading my car onto the Iron Ore Train in Nouadhibou was already an adventure itself.

While the Iron Ore Train snakes its way through Mauritania, you’ll come across wrecks from all sorts of vehicles – here, old Diesel locomotives that were once in use have been parked.

Wrecks are a normal sight when riding through Mauritania on the Iron Ore Train.

One thing is for sure: the sunset and sunrise while on the Iron Ore Train in Mauritania were some of the most beautiful ones I have ever encountered.

Sitting on top of the Iron Ore Train, while looking at nothing around you but the Mauritanian desert, is an experience of a lifetime.

The bulk cargo train travels from the Sahara desert to the coast through dry nowhere to transport valuable minerals across Mauritania.

The Mauritania Railway serves not only as the sole connection between remote locations and the country’s only major shipping port, Nouadhibou, but as free transport for locals seeking to travel from isolated communities to the coast.

The Sahara desert lived up to its nickname, ‘the White Man’s Grave’, as temperatures during the day sore to a blistering 50° Celsius.

The Iron Ore Train is up to 2.5 kilometres long, making it one of the longest and heaviest in the world. It normally consist of 3 or 4 diesel-electric EMD locomotives, around 200 cars each carrying up to 84 tons of iron ore, and 2-3 service cars. The total traffic averages is 16.6 million tons per year.

Nouadhibou is the second largest city in Mauritania and serves as a major commercial centre and is the country’s economic capital, due to being the final stop of the Iron Ore Train.

We were yet again on a road trip through Morocco, this time our journey would take us all the way to Mauritania, but before, we wanted to explore the northern parts a bit more. Moulay Idriss made its way onto our map, because we wanted to see for ourselves, what made this city so holy.

We arrived in Tangier with the ferry from Geneva and had already passed beautiful Chefchaouen. Moulay Idriss would be our next destination before continuing to Fez. We heard that it was considered an alternative to the Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca by many Moroccans. It was here that Moulay Idriss I, the great-great-great grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, arrived in 789, bringing with him the religion of Islam, and starting a new dynasty. In addition to founding the town named after him, he also initiated construction of Fez, continued later by his son, Moulay Idriss II.

Given its picturesque setting, colourful streets, historic core and Moroccan importance, it’s a mystery why not more tourists visit. It’s lack of popularity is a good thing though, because you can often have the place all to yourself. And it’s safe to say that the city will surprise you with it’s beauty and calm atmosphere.

The colourful streets of Moulay Idriss seem like another Chefchaouen, but instead of blue, cyan is the main colour in use here.

For some (Western) visitors, Moulay Idriss may still be too “dirty” or “undeveloped”, yet it is exactly that, that makes it authentic and gives it its charm.

Moulay Idriss was off limit to non-Muslims after 3pm until 2005. This was because of the town’s holiness: it’s a pilgrimage site, the burial place of Moulay Idriss I. In 2005, Muhammed VI, the current king of Morocco, issued a decree to open the town to non-Muslim visitors as part of his plan of Western-oriented reform.

The sheer endless streets of Moulay Idriss reminded us of colourful Chefchaouen, but also a little bit of the Medina of Marrakech.

Donkeys can be seen everywhere in Moulay Idriss. They’re used to transport everything from people, shopping, luggage, beds, fridges, tables due to the hilly nature of the town.

In the medina quarter of Moulay Idriss you will find many colourful streets that are the perfect photo spot.

Due to Mouy Idriss’ location high above, the views are absolutely spectacular.

One reason the Romans chose Moulay Idriss was for its potential for making olive oil, which is today the town’s primary product.

Moulay Idriss is reachable by just a pair of roads and spreads across two foothills of Mount Zerhoun, at the base of the Atlas Mountains.

The Mosque and Mausoleum in Moulay Idriss.

The archaeological Site of Volubilis is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Volubilis is a partly excavated Roman city, commonly considered as the ancient capital of the Roman-Berber kingdom of Mauretania.

While the streets in the Medinas of Marrakech, Chefchaouen or Fes are invigorating, they can also be exhausting. Moulay Idriss is the perfect spot to get away from the bustling city life, while still being in a city.

To get there was pretty easy and straightforward. We flew in to Surabaya from where we took the train to Banyuwangi Regency/Karangasem Station. We were picked up by our guesthouse and drove to the village of Licin, which is about 20 kilometres from the station, located on the slopes of Kawah Ijen volcano. The guesthouse, situated between rice terraces, coffee plantations and natural jungle was an ideal spot to explore the area, while our host organised the trip to the volcano the next morning. Oh and by “next morning” we mean 1 a.m.!

Workingman’s Death: 3 Times A Day, 6 Days A Week.

The walk into the cater would include sharp drops, slippery steps and a toxic turquoise lake. At almost 2.800 metres, this place is a working mine where men carry up to 100 kilos of sulfur out of the mouth of the volcano down to the weighing station. They do this by hand up to three times a day, six days a week, starting at 1 a.m. when it’s still cool outside.

From our guesthouse it took about one hour until we reached the parking lot from where the 3.5 kilometre trek starts. Our guide’s name was Neki, who was a miner himself for almost 10 years and told us much about the job during the first one-hour climb upwards. The way lead us to the canteen for a little rest with a cup of tea before continuing. Here we saw the first miner coming towards us. It was a sight we’d see many more times during our walk to the crater rim: The man carried two baskets made out of bamboo loaded with mustard-yellow sulfur on his shoulder. He was one of 20 working men trying to bring up as much sulfur as their back can bear. Seeing him rapidly walk past us with this enormous load almost made us feel bad for resting. We continued walking.

The trip to the Kawah Ijen crater might not be super tough, but I still welcomed the rest in between.

Miner at Kawah Ijen break up the sulfur before transporting them to the weighing station.

There is only one way to the crater that tourist and the workers have to share.

A miner ascends from the Kawah Ijen crater with his baskets full of sulfur.

The moment you arrive at the crater rim you’ll notice hundreds of tourist walking down into the crater to see the spectacular blue fires that burn between the sulfur. Neki provided us with gas masks the closer we got to the toxic fumes. Kawah Ijen’s smoky abyss looks and feels like a place from outer space. It’s hard to believe that people actually work here. The situation is frankly quite ridiculous: on one hand miners are dragging up between 80-100 kilos of sulfur up to three times a day, while on the other hand ignorant tourists try to overtake them or comfortably rest at the spots that are reserved for the working men who need to get the load off their shoulders for a minute. What felt even more embarrassing was seeing tourists taking selfies with these guys. We spent a couple of hours observing this and came to the conclusion, that some people would do anything for a selfie and don’t have the courtesy to give way to the heavy loaded miners who deserve more than a little bit of credit for having what is, perhaps, the hardest job in the world.

The miners inevitably inhale the toxic fumes at Kawah Ijen crater.

The landscape around Kawah Ijen volcano is definitely one to remember!

The Price Miners Pay At Kawah Ijen.

Each miner makes about 200.000 Rupees (15-20 $) a day, which is quite good money in Indonesia compared to other jobs. But they bear the scars of years spent on the edge of life and death. The side effects are nothing less but severe burns, sore bodies, ongoing coughing, poisoned lungs and squashed shoulder bones. When exposed to this kind of work over long periods of time, the life expectancy is only 30 years. But money keeps them going and when one has the opportunity, he saves up as much as he can, and after a few years, opens a guesthouse and becomes a tour guide for crazy tourists who are after blue flames brightening up the nights down in this toxic environment. Neki was one of these people. And he believes that it saved his life.

From Vienna To Passo di Xomo.

From Vienna it’s an 800 km drive until you reach Passo di Xomo, which is the starting off point. The drive itself is a pleasure, because the scenery makes up for the hours of driving. Still, it’s a long way to go with a camper van and we only arrived far after lunch. Therefore we decided to spend the night at Rifugio Passo Xomo (approx. 50 € per room). Early the next morning we drove up the remaining 4 km to Bocchetta Campiglia from where the hike begins. You can park your car here for 6 € per day.

Tunnels 1 to 52.

The road of 52 tunnels is not just any hike; it’s a hike through history. This military mountain road was built during World War I. It was (and still is) a real masterpiece of military engineering and boldness, considering the conditions back then. It was constructed in just 10 months (!) from February to November 1917 under the guidance of Lieutenant Joseph Zappa. It’s hard to imagine how soldiers carried up supplies and minors built these mountain tunnels in the middle of winter.

The hike itself is rather easy, though enduring due to its length of 6.5 kilometres and the elevation gain (with an average 12% grade). There are plenty of rocks to rest and soak up the stunning views.

Every tunnel is special in a way, but one of the most well known and impressive ones is Nr. 20. This tunnel is carved out of a rock tower and is spiralling upwards for 87 meters! Nr. 47 is also amazing, because it’s the highest point from where you have an amazing view of the area.

What Do Bring:

• A (head)torch is essential, because some tunnels are quite long and pitch dark.
• And good hiking boots are recommended, because it can get quite slippery.

Finally: Pasta, Pasta!

It took us about three hours to reach the end of the trail, where you’ll immediately see Rifugio Achille Papa. We spoiled ourselves and ordered a well deserved Italian pasta. As already said, the hike itself is not too difficult, but we were pretty exhausted anyway. Oh and the Rigugio even has a few rooms, so if you feel too tired to walk back the same day, just spend the night. Be sure to make a reservation though (especially on weekends).

From up here, there are two ways back to the car park: you can either turn around and head right back down on the Strada delle 52 Gallerie or you can take the gently winding road. We went for the dirt road, which is used to transport supplies up to the Rifugio. After 17.5 kilometres, we finally reached the parking lot. Exhausted but also exited to have just walked in the footsteps of history.

Hiking through the Strada delle 52 Gallerie is a walk through history.

The entrance of tunnel Nr. 1.

The Strada delle 52 Gallerie trail alternates between a dirt track and tunnels dug out of the mountain.

The longest tunnel is Nr. 19, with 318 m length.

Strada delle 52 Gallerie starts at Bocchetta di Campiglia (altitude of 1216 m) and ends at the Porte del Pasubio (altitude of 1928 m).

Strada delle 52 Gallerie was originally built as a supply line for Italian troops who were defending against Austrian and Hungarian forces. The path was made to accommodate the soldiers and their mules.

Strada delle 52 Gallerie is located approx. 30km from Lake Garda, one of the most beautiful areas in northern Italy.

Hiking along the Strada delle 52 Gallerie is an amazing experience – also because of the stunning views!

Rifugio Achille Papa is located right at the end of Strada delle 52 Gallerie and a perfect spot for a nice lunch.

The cemeteries we’re used to are all (more or less) the same: tombstones either next or atop of each other (like for example the Jewish Cemetery in Prague), walkways through the various paths, smaller and larger mausoleums as well as flowers decoration one or the other grave. So when we first heard about hanging coffins high up on cliffs, it sounded quite strange, but our world is huge and packed with different customs and rituals.

From One Bus To The Next: The Normal Way Of Travelling In China.

Our last summer journey brought us to China again. We flew into Chongqing, a city that’s an experience itself not only due to it’s enormous size. We only had 10 days to explore the city and the hanging coffins southeast of Chongqing. Sounds enough, but when travelling through China, you can never be sure where to end up due to the language barrier so a time buffer is strongly advised.

From Chongqing we had to travel to Yibin. A lady at the airports tourism facility booth helped us in securing a seat on a bus the next day. Busses depart straight from the airport to many destinations near or far from Chongqing. The ticket booth and the bus station are located right next to the domestic airport (the international airport is approx. 500 meters away and it’s easy to walk there, even with luggage). There are also other bus stations in the city near the Northern and Southern train stations, but since we don’t speak Mandarine and locals outside of Beijing don’t really understand English, this was our best bet to arrive where we actually anticipated to.

Next Destination: Luobiao.

Once we got to Yibin, we had to transfer again. This meant a local trip through Yibin to get to the right bus station. You can take a taxi if you want to skip all these mini adventures, but it was fun and we got a look at Yibin at the same time. Some of our fellow passengers immediately had an idea where we were headed and directed us to the right bus. After we got to the southern outskirts of Yibin, we hopped onto our transport to Luobiao.

After approximately three hours, leaving the Yangtze River behind us, we arrived in Luobiao, in the area of Xuanguan (which means hanging coffin in Chinese). We didn’t bother with accommodation, and went with what we came across. Right next to the bus station was a hotel that had a nice room with great view and free Wi-Fi. We rested a little while and started exploring.

Some Practicalities:

• You’ll come across a hotel near the bus station for about 80 RMB per night. It’s nothing too fancy, but good enough for what one needs.
• A local market in the morning gives you all the necessary food options.
• The bus back to Yibin leaves early in the morning. And at around 9.00 am, a bus leaves to Gongxian. From here you can take another bus to Bamboo Sea another attraction in the area, but with hordes of local tourists.

In Persuit Of Ghosts: Hanging Coffings Of Luobiao.

As it was already evening, we didn’t venture far out, but the town looked promising, with the strange feeling of being in persuit of ghosts. So early next morning we were on our way to check out these mysterious hanging coffins. The lush valleys and cool mists of southwestern Sichuan province is truly astonishing: beautiful rice paddies, small farm houses, the most friendly people working their crops and only now and then you hear a truck passing by. We didn’t come across any western tourists and even Chinese tourists are a rare sight. This part of the world does not only seem far away from civilisation, but it actually is.

The hanging coffins of the Bo people, a Chinese ethnic minority, have puzzled historians for generations. Nailed into the cliffs high above the farmland, hundreds of wooden coffins keep silent watch over the valleys below. Over the years, several coffins have fallen down, but you get a good impression on how many must have once hung there by counting all the holes carved into the mountains. The Bo tribe was exterminated in the days of the Ming Dynasty and these coffins are the only relict. It seems obvious that little now is known of them, who they were, or how they lived.

The hanging coffins are really interesting, but what fascinated us even more was the atmosphere and feeling we had when wandering through the rice paddies, as well as the hospitality of the local people. We definitely left Luobiao with a big smile.

We started wandering along the path to the first set of hanging coffins and then further up into a huge cave with ruined structures inside it. The view from up here was breathtaking!

The handing coffins were a unique burial custom of the Bo people was carried out to prevent the dead bodies from being eaten by wild animals and was also believed to be a way for the soul of the deceased to gain an eternal blessing.

If you enjoy peace and quite, then the area of Luobiao is the right sport for you. Here you can truly disconnect from the outer world and experience nature at its best.

The hanging coffins are interesting no doubt, but the experiences we had with the local people, as well as the atmosphere and nature of the Luobiao area deserves just as much attention!

The hanging coffin was a widespread form of burial in ancient southwest China, but the practice ended with the mysterious disappearance of the Bo People.

Luobiao is located in a small river valley with some of the most impressive vegetation we’ve come across.

Some believe the hanging coffins of the Bo people must have been lowered down with ropes from the top of the mountain. Some think the coffins had been put in place using wooden stakes inserted into the cliff face to be used as artificial climbing aids. Others believe that scaling ladders or timber scaffolds were used. However, investigators have failed to find even a single stake hole.

The market in Luobiao offers everything you expect from a market in China: live animals, fresh fruits and vegetables and lots of street vendors.

Getting Ready For Our African Adventure.

After travelling through western Africa a few times, the idea to visit Sudan, the Central African Republic and the back then called Zaire (nowadays Democratic Republic of the Congo) stuck with me. In those days, most of the western population has never even heard of these countries. Beside the occasional cruelty report of course (e.g. King Bokassa of the Central African Republic doing shitty things, or President Mobutu Sese Seko becoming a megalomaniac, of course the first Ebola outbreak and Aids was linked down there as well…). This idea of mine went into the final stage with the purchase of a Mercedes-Benz Unimog 406 truck – only the best would do for this trip (until then, we’ve travelled Africa with an Dodge WC52, a Mercedes-Benz Unimog 411 truck, a Gräf & Stift truck, and and outside broadcasting van from the Austrian Broadcasting cooperation). We added a huge tailored aluminium cube onto the back that served as our miniflat; bedroom, kitchen, storage, sink and closet. The roof rack was used for the transportation of fuel, water supplies, spare tyres and a place to set up the tent at night when the weather was fine. This also gave us some sort protection, because from the top of the vehicle we could scan the area around us better. Nisa’s baby cot was stored between the front seats. I have to admit that everything was a bit cramped, but we were happy to set off to these countries that were hardly ever visited by people just for fun. Oh and of course we had a dog with us as well. The Maier family was set and ready to leave.

This is how we travelled through Africa: a Mercedes-Benz Unimog 406 truck, a tent, a dog and lots of food, water & Diesel supplies.

Entering Egypt In Alexandria And Continuing To The Nile Valley.

We drove down to Greece via former Yugoslavia. From Athens to Crete by local ferry and from Crete to Alexandria with a huge car/passenger ship. In Egypt, the real adventure started.

It took quite some hours to get the permission to enter Egypt with a private car. We had all the relevant papers (Carnet de Passages, etc.), but in Egypt one needed local number plates as a temporary registration with a local insurance…to cut a long story short, we waited for hours to get all these requirements. The only issue that we had worried about before, turned out to be a non issue at customs: the dog.

We spent the first night sleeping on our roof rack right in front of the pyramids in Giza. It would have been a stunning night, but the barking dogs around us made it impossible. We were told that there are occasional dog chasers if things ran out of control (rabies was a big issue). Sometimes we even had hordes of dogs following us when driving along the Nile river, and at times it was impossible to get out of the car. And when there were no dogs around, we were immediately surrounded by hordes of children once we stopped. It was an exciting trip through Egypt indeed, nevertheless the Nile Valley is one of the densest populated areas in the world, so we didn’t have a single moment without people – even when sneaking behind a bush for our private business one had interested company…

Egypt has been called the gift of the Nile, for without the river it could not exist as a fertile, populous country. Its character and history have been shaped by the stark contrast between the fecund Nile Valley and its Delta, and the arid wastes that surround them.

A main attraction of Farafra is its White Desert, known as Sahara el Beyda. The White Desert is a national park. The deserts centrepieces are the snow-white to cream coloured rocks.

The desert landscape in Egypt sometimes really looked like out of space.

Off We Were To Aswan To Enter Sudan On A Barge.

Contrary to the Nile Valley, Dhakla and Farafra Oasis in the western part of Egypt are remote. Only sparsely populated villages can be found here. For hundreds of kilometres not a single soul can be seen along the road. It was quite a unique experience to camp between strange rock formations without any noise at all except our own heartbeats. The only light came up from the sky (I’ve never seen more stars than that night).

Finally, after visiting the valley of the Kings in Luxor, we arrived in Aswan, home to the Abu Simbel temples and the reservoir dam from where you can travel to Sudan by barge. This is how we wanted to enter Sudan. We’ve done exactly the same a few years before, back then with a smaller car, which made the shifting onboard easy. But now with our big truck, the complications started. First they always tell you that is ‘s possible, but for how much money? Secondly, the timing wasn’t ideal: our Sudanese visa was almost expired, and we were told that you have to arrive in the country a certain amount of time before the visa expires. And thirdly, this barge that would have carried our baby really looked a bit too worn out.

Aswan has always been an important strategic point. For us it would be our entering point to Sudan.

The Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, located beneath the cliffs at Deir el Bahari on the west bank of the Nile near the Valley of the Kings.

Making New Friends & Decisions.

Decision needed to be made. We sat in Aswan on the one and only campground (if that’s what you want to call it), in the middle of the town with hustle and bustle day and night. It was rather an empty lot where the occasional overland traveller took shelter. The decision was made the next evening when a big MAN truck, followed by two BMW cross-country motorbikes, pulled in.

It only took a bottle of whatever and a bit of brainstorming and our goal was clear. Since there was no chance to get a permission to enter Sudan from Egypt legally (officials had told us there were some incidents with lost travellers in the past), this Austrian-German-Canadian convoy would cross the Egyptian-Sudanese boarder illegally through the desert.

Our Austrian-German-Canadian convoy that would cross the Sudanese-Egyptian border illegally: our Mercedes-Benz Unimog 406, a MAN truck and two BMW’s motorbikes.

Our Plan: Map, Compass & Sand Dunes.

Our plan was to leave the road into the desert at nighttime. The two Canadians with their BMW’s would drive in front; they were a lot faster and able to check for possible traces of presumed border patrol cars. Our trucks would follow and we would wait together every 5 kilometres. We would do this until our first night stop. It was going to be an exciting and also dangerous trip, yet our Mercedes-Benz Unimog 406 truck, our desert experience and our ability to navigate with nothing but a compass and map (that was all we had) convinced us that we could do it.

First, we decided to drive down to Abu Simbel to look at the possibilities where to get off the road. In Aswan at the checkpoint one had to show papers and in Abu Simbel you had to report to the police station and fill out lots of paperwork. So, as it was a full moon night, we decided to pretend to leave Abu Simbel just before the checkpoint closed in the evening. We told the officers that we’d sleep along the road and drive up to Aswan again the next day. This would give us some time to disappear into the desert.

After being out of sight of the checkpoint, and with no other traffic on the road, we turned off our lights and drove off into the vast desert landscape. Only the moon guided us, with the BMW’s in front. Like this we drove for around 30 kilometres in the southwestern direction to our first night stop; no lights, no fire, nothing that could alert anyone who might be in the area as well.

Sudan Here We Come.

With some of the best sleep we’ve had in a while, we woke up well rested and exited that we already made it this far. We didn’t want to waste any time, so we skipped breakfast, packed up and set off with the same pattern. We only crossed one car track that looked pretty recent, other than that we were on our own.

Our map showed a small mountain range along the border of Sudan and until we reached it, we drove over 10 hours – the distances are unbelievable. We came to the mountain range and drove right through it, in between rocks and sand dunes we finally reached the Sudanese border. There were no signs of course but we were sure that we’ve made it.

This night all of us got out our best food and of course whatever drinks we had. We reached Sudan and now it was just a few more days until we’d arrive in Dongola to do the paperwork for customs. Those nights in the desert, without a single trace of life, not even a single fly was truly an unforgettable experience and it still lasts until today. But it would soon be over.

This is the first photo I took after crossing the mountain range were we entered Sudan. It was just us, our trucks and the vast desert landscape. And some cheap booze…

Camping in the middle of the Sahara desert in the Sudan, just after crossing the Sudanese-Egyptian border.

The First Sudanese Villages Came Into Sight.

We spotted the first signs of the Nile river again; a few palm trees, the first small fields along the banks, and finally the first Sudanese working in his vegetable garden. He was surprised to see us, waved at us and pointed South after we asked for Dongola. We passed more villages along the river, stopped here and there and came across the first bakery in Sudan. The bread we bought here, called Aish merahrah in Arabic, tasted absolutely amazing after all the days with tin food. The it didn’t take long for the first invitation. The family that invited us into their home was so generous, offered great food and an unbelievable hospitality. Actually the entire village was up to get a glimpse of us strangers, especially Nisa and the dog got all the attention. It was one of the few times that the dog had to stay in the truck because we were afraid he’s attack someone with all the shouting, laughing and screaming.

These were some of the first Sudanese men we came across after entering Sudan.

The entire village was on their feet to get a glimpse of us.

This was the clay crafted entrance to the families house that invited us near Dongola.

“Welcome To Sudan”.

After yet another remote night in the desert we arrived in Dongola and drove straight up to customs. At first they didn’t know what to do with us, but we showed our documents and the visas and explained that we needed stamps here and there. After some talking we all got the documents stamped and with a Welcome to Sudan we were released. From here on our routes separated, mainly because everyone had different ideas about the travel speed. We always took it easy and stayed in Dongola for a few days, camping in the police station’s yard while drinking tea in the evenings with the officers. We were simply relieved that we had made it to Sudan without a big hassle.

We stopped at a “road house” along the NIle river in Sudan for some great mint tea and immediately caught the attention of the villagers.

Until today camels are important for transporting goods through the desert. All the impressions of this trip, which was almost 30 years ago, are sill in my mind as if it were yesterday. Those were the true African adventures I’ve always dreamed about, and until today, I’m grateful to have experiences this!

The entire village followed us around in Dongola. It was quite an experience and we decided to stick around for a couple of days. Back in those days, only very few tavellers crossed this part of the world and when thinking back, a trip like this wouldn’t (unfortunately) be possible anymore today…

The next part of our adventures through Africa will follow. We’ll write about the trip from Dongola down to the border of the Central African Republic.

Forbidden City Or The Great Wall Of China?

Last August we managed to visit Beijing again and had to make a choice between the Forbidden City or the Great Wall. We didn’t have time to do both (plus we’ve visited both sights before), and since the Forbidden City had hundreds of people waiting in line, the Great Wall it was! It would be our second visit – and probably our last (at least the part near Beijing).

This famous landmark is found on several “must-do-lists”; must-do before you die; must-visit landmarks; must-visit in China … and so forth. So naturally the Great Wall really should be visited at least once in a lifetime. Or even twice.

Our first visit to the Great Wall turned out to become our worst nightmare because we landed on a package tour. We don’t like package tours at all, and we learned from our mistake. So to to avoid all that, we decided to take the public bus.

How To Get To The Great Wall Of China By Public Transport.

Get out of metro line Nr. 2 at the station Dongzhimen and continue to exit B (be careful not to mess it up with the airport line). From here you just go to the bus station to your left and look for bus Nr. 916 to Huairou. We can’t remember what the bus charged for the trip, but it was really cheap.

The ride takes about 1.5 hour. It’s best to tell the driver that you want to go to Mutianyu Great Wall. This part of the Wall is approximately 70km northeast of Beijing. Actually you’d assume that they know where where a tourist heads to, but just in case the driver is a bit absent, tell him anyway.

Once you get off, there’ll be minivans or cabs waiting for visitors. To save money, simply share one with fellow bus passengers who’re also on a self-guided tour. The cab price is negotiable, but it was around 15 US$. 20 minutes later and you’re at one of the most iconic landmarks of our planet.

Your next step is getting an entrance ticket. Unless you’re willing to crawl through thick bushes to avoid the ticket inspector, there’s no way around buying one. Still, you have a few options:

• A return cable car ticket (for the lazy ones)
• A single cable car ticket (walking one direction, or an alternate method of descent by single-rider personal wheeled toboggan)
• Walking both directions (which means avoiding the crowds lining up for the cable car ride)

We Finally Arrived At The Great Wall Of China.

It was a hot August morning and we were one of the first visitors, which was a nice change from busy Beijing. We’re pretty fit, so we decided to skip the cable car. Walking up all these stairs wears you out, so next time, we’d take a single-way ticket – though this also means that one should be there early, otherwise the waiting line is very very (very!) long. You can also buy a single ticket up at the Wall, but it’s more expensive, so make sure you know in advance what you want to do.

Walking along the Great Wall itself is pretty easy, only the crowds can be a bit annoying at times – especially if you want to take photos without people (which is almost impossible after 10.00 am).

Resume Of Our Visit To The Great Wall Of China.

Of course the Great Wall of China is a must visit! After all, it’s one if the most impressive structures ever build by humans. But next time we’d to travel to Jinshanling (approx. 130km northeast of Beijing) or Jiayu Pass (Western part), simply because you’ll come across less tourists. This is one of the things that really bother us about China: Mass-tourism. It makes even the most amazing area or sight overcrowded and un-charming…

A Few Fact Of The Great Wall Of China.

• Chinese Name: Wann Li Channg-Ch’ng (meaning: Long Wall of 10.000 Li)
• Length: The wall’s length – without its branches and other secondary sections – was thought to extend for some 6.690 km (4.160 miles)
• Built: Construction of the earliest sections began during in 770 – 476 B.C.
• Completed: By the time construction on most of the stone-and-brick Great Wall, with its turrets and watchtowers, was completed during the Ming dynasty (1368-1644)
• Visitors: Approximately 10 million each year
• Myth: It’s said that the Great Wall of China is the only human-built structure that can be seen from space. But it’s not true. The reality is that you can’t easily see the Great Wall from low Earth orbit with the naked eye – you need some serious equipment to do so…

With a history of more than 2.000 years, some of the sections are now in ruins or have disappeared. However, it is still one of the most appealing attractions all around the world owing to its architectural grandeur and historical significance.

Just like a gigantic dragon, the Great Wall winds up and down across deserts, grasslands, mountains and plateaus, stretching approximately 8.851 km from east to west of China.

The Wall we see today was mostly built during the Ming Dynasty (1368 – 1644). It starts from Hushan in the east to Jiayuguan Pass in the west traversing Liaoning, Hebei, Beijing, Tianjin, Shanxi, Inner Mongolia, Ningxia, Shaanxi, Gansu and Qinghai.

The Great Wall of China is the greatest tourist attraction in China and approximately 10 million people visit this landmark each year.

A bunch of happy officers at the Great Wall in China during our first visit.

Our road trip through Oman meant 3.330 kilometres from Muscat to Salalah & return.

Driving From Muscat To Al Ashkharah.

We decided to drive along smaller roads from Muscat, partly through mountains, along fluffy sand dunes and irresistible beaches. It took us the entire first day until we finally arrived up at the coastal village of Al Ashkharah. It’s not really a tourist spot and there were just two hotels to choose from – good enough for us. We were the only tourists in sight and it turned out that the village was more interesting than we thought at first.

Things To Do In Al Ashkharah.

Most of the activity happens directly at the beach with fishing and trading. Watching the fishermen (or better their Toyota’s) pull in the nets was what kept us there for quite a while. Driving along the coast, we stopped at several beach locations where fish was just hauled in or boats were ready to go out. Huge freezer trucks were ready to be loaded with fresh fish and thousands of seagulls flew around just waiting for their chance to steal some fish.

As Al Ashkarah is the only village for many kilometres around, a lot of market activities are going on every morning, which also makes this place worth visiting.

Continuing Further West – With A Little Detour.

Somewhere past Masirah Island we took a wrong turn and only realized a while later that we were on highway 37, inland to a place called Haima. It was not on our agenda at first, but we continued and Haima turned out to be a cute little city with few hotels, good restaurants and a petrol stations From here we drove to Al Gayfah. This town is actually just an in-between stop to fill up you tank. We stayed at the only rest-house there was, which was actually not that bad.

• Travel Tip: Make sure you fill up your car as soon as it’s half empty because sometimes even petrol stations can run out of gas – or the petrol station is closed due to renovation (happened to us in Al Ashkharah).

From A World Heritage Site To Salalah.

We continued our trip with a side trip to the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Shisr, the Land of Frankincense. It was a 40 km off-road trip through the desert, sometimes with pretty deep sand. You pass an agricultural area, where different plants grow for further commercial use. Huge water irrigation systems are needed to turn the desert into a blossoming oasis. Shisr was a lonely village. Hundred of years ago, it was the last stop where water could be found before the long enduring trip north through the Rub’ al Khali desert. Nowadays only one frankincense tree is left and that’s about it – sorry to say, but this World Heritage Site is not so worth visiting.

Once you come closer to Salalah, the area starts to become more interesting again, with mountains rising just behind Thumrait. Salalah and the ocean can be seen in the distance when arriving from the north – quite an impressive picture.

What To Expect In Salalah.

Driving into Salalah is like driving into a big city with huge palm tree lined Boulevards. Salalah is spread out vastly, but only 100.000 people live here. The largest building is the Sultans Palace facing the ocean and a lot of streets near it are closed for the public, as well as the beautiful white sand beach.

We were tired and checked into the Al Nile Hotel, a super nice and clean place with perfectly working internet for only 20 Omani Rial. Nearby was a supermarket and a bakery, which was very convenient.

Salalah has an old market where you can satisfy all your frankincense needs; beside that, the market is a bit uninspiring and the entire area has the clock ticking before it’s torn down completely to make space for new buildings. Along the beach an entire strip of the city is already abandoned while bulldozers and heavy machinery is tearing down the houses. We were told that new housing complexes for government officials would be built here. Somehow it reminded us for an earthquake zone and people must have left pretty much over night, since you could still find all sort of things inside…

Straight roads for several hundred kilometres are nothing unusual when driving through Oman.

A “white city” we came across during our road trip through Oman: Musquin.

Toyotas seem to be the desired car brand in Oman.

These are the typical fishing boats in Oman. We came across them at the beach near Al Ashkharah.

Watching the fishermen near Al Ashkharah was interesting and also a great photo opportunity.

Throughout our road trip through Oman, locals greeted us in the most friendly way possible.

A camel herder near Thumrait.

The Rub’ al Khali or Empty Quarter is the second largest sand desert in the world, encompassing most of the southern third of the Arabian Peninsula.

In the south of Oman the landscape becomes more mountainous again and therefore roads can become more winding at times.

Camels crossed our way several times when driving through Oman.

The coastal landscape near Salalah is truly out of this world. The water is as turquoise as in the Pacific and the beaches are absolutely amazing!

Swarupkati is definitely not a regular tourist destination. Here you have to be prepared to get as much attention – if not even more – as Lady Di got during her Australia tour. No, I’m really not exaggerating! The last time we got this much attention was during our accidental visit to Tilamuta in Indonesia (the captain of our boat got lost on the way from Togean Islands to the mainland).

What To Expect In Swarupkati.

Getting off the launch in Swarupkati was not an easy process, simply because we were surrounded by people who just stared at us. This is when it dawned on us that not many westerners have travelled to this part of the country…

A nice rickshaw puller brought us to the main street, winding parallel along the river. It was a nice ride. After approximately 15 minutes, we got to pretty much the one and only accommodation, yet it was still full with dreaming guests. The sleepy hotel manager promised us his best room around midday – at this point we’d like to thank our local friend Sabuj, who came along with us for this trip. In some cases a local translator really eases up things. Sabuj knew people in the area, and since it was breakfast-time, we went to the best restaurant in town - a real shack, with lots of people. Our arrival made quite a stir. The gossip just flew through the village the second we set foot onto the premises: “Western tourists have arrived“.

After finishing our meal, it was truly an amusing experience to walk to the jetty where a boat was ready to navigate us to the guava plantations: Around 200 people watched every step of our way and hoped to join us on our excursion. It was Hello Miss here, Hello Mister there. Screaming kids, waving people and a VIP from town who came along with us (we didn’t manage to find out his position, but everybody did as he said, so his VIP status was reasonable).

Arriving in Swarupkati immediately meant that the unloading process started. Several smaller boats approached our launch even before we got to the jetty.

Sabuj had his hands full trying to keep all the kids in Swarupkati under control.

Off To The Guava Plantations.

The boat was quite large and comfortable to sit in. We crossed the river on which we had come on with the launch from Dhaka and the slowly floated into the jungle on one of the rivers side arms. The area was so different to the otherwise busy life in Bangladesh. There were absolutely no roads, therefore it was quiet and the atmosphere truly special. We could only hear the sound of the jungle and flowing water. Everything comes in and out of the region through small channels by boat, and if you’re not familiar with the area, one will get lost after the first bend. It’s like a maze on water; almost a bit like Venice.

Of course our boatman knew every corner of the way and we stopped several times to admire the scenery. It was so green, lush and uninhabited (apart from few families living in farmhouses). As said before, westerners are definitely not a common sight here. Every single person we came across got excited, wanted to talk to us or, in most cases, wanted to take a photo.

After floating through these jungle plantations for several hours, we couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to do such a trip with a canoe and camp in the area for a few days…

Now this was quite a lovely farewell: Pretty much the entire village came to see us…

The VIP from town (left) & Sabuj (centre) were a real help during our trip to Swarupkati. Can’t help it, but somehow Sabuj kept reminding us of John F. Kennedy…

We were a real attraction in Swarupkati… and if you’re not down to earth, the attention you get here can really get to your head.

Very often boats are the only means of transportation for lowland dwellers in Swarupkati.

A local farmer brings some tasty guavas to the next market. But the prices, now as low as 80-120 Taka for 40 kg, are frustrating for the growers.

Checking Into The Best Place In Town.

When we got back to Swarupkati, our room – which was supposed to be the best room of the hotel – was ready for us. To make the story short: we decided to get out our hammocks and rather sleep in those. Sometimes, like in this particular case, it’s a waste of time to complain about the room. We knew that the hotel management really tried everything in their power to make our stay pleasant, yet the room was not all that nice – especially the sheets. On the bright side, we had a balcony and could watch ships go by the river all day long. Luckily there were two windows with iron bars, so setting up the hammocks was not an issue.

Pure Muscle At The Wood Market.

After settling in, Sabuj organised a visit to the local wood market. Again, someone from the community joined us and therefore we got a really good insight on why this markets has developed here. Most people own boats instead of cars, and therefore even of huge trunks of wood are transported on water. The trunks are tied together like a raft and the boat is sitting on top of the stems. With patience, the timber can then be navigated to its final destination.

The tree trunks are put onto the boat, as well as attached on the side and also underneath it.

Tree trunks are brought to the city centre of Swarupkati for further usage.

Once the tree trunks arrive in Swarupkati, further processing takes its course.

No machinery of any kind can be found at the wood market in Swarupkati. Here it’s all about pure man-power.

Before the wood is put onto the larger boats for further transport, it has to be weighted.

The work at the wood market in Swarupkati is tough and should not be underestimated. These guys definitely get their fitness done each day…

The men working at the wood market in Swarupkati are as fit as you could be.

Many wood trunk are also directly processed in Swarupkati and then shipped to cities all over Bangladesh.

If you take the main road from Muscat via Nizwa it’s a smooth 4 hour drive to Jebel Shams Plateau, also known as the Mountain of the Sun. Jebel Shams is actually the highest mountain of the country and part of the Jebel Akhdar Mountain range, which is one of Oman’s most spectacular areas. The trip up here can easily be expanded if you have the time for some detours through the mountains; then it can take up to 2 or 3 days to get there. If you decide to go for this, definitely bring your camp gear since you won’t come across many rest houses, plus a night under the stars is an unforgettable experience. Depending on the season, it can get quite chilly at night in higher regions, so be prepared to bring some warm clothes.

The area here is absolutely stunning, with abandoned villages as well as small oasis’ where fruits and vegetables are grown, with sophisticated hundred years old watering systems. You won’t come across too many people on your trip here, apart from some few trekkers and mountain bikers. For us, it was an amazing experience into a world we have not been to before. The Arabian Peninsular was never high on our bucket list, but Oman clearly changed our views. Our tickets are booked for Muscat in February 2015 already…

The landscape of Jebel Akhdar in Oman, with Jebel Shams as its highest point.

The region of Jebel Akhdar in Oman will take your breath away.

The mountains of Jebel Akhdar in Oman make quite an impression – especially during sunset.

Driving through the mountainous landscape of Jebel Akhdar in Oman definitely required a 4×4 drive.

The mountains of Jebel Akhdar in Oman make you feel like you’re a million miles away from civilisation … partly also because this actually is the case.