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.

The Legend Of The Erg Chebbi Sand Dunes.

Morocco might not the the first destination that comes to mind when thinking about skyscraper high sand dunes, but think again! With Zagora and Merzouga you’ll find two great gateways for a true Sahara desert experience. Our road trip would lead us to Merzouga, a small village only approximately 20km from the Algerian border and on the edge of Erg Chebbi.

A Moroccan legend says that the Erg Chebbi sand dunes were sent by God as a punishment because a wealthy family refused to accommodate a poor woman with her son. Moroccans believe that the dunes piled up outside Merzouga and buried them underneath to teach them a lesson so that they would never refuse to help a tired traveller ever again.

The sand dunes here fulfill Morocco’s promise as a dream desert destination. But unlike in the old days when my parents travelled through Africa, Merzouga is now easily accessible due to the paved road. This has it’s prince: during high season convoys of 4WD’s race across the area and you won’t be able to get photos without people in them (like the ones below).

In winter, temperatures are only slightly above 10 degrees during the day, which keeps many tourists away. For us, it was perfect, because we had the dunes to ourselves. Driving into Merzouga, we immediately recognised the only open Quad shop: Sahara ATV Quad Adventure.

Off We Go: Sand Dunes, Here We Come!

We booked a two-hour ride and only a couple of minutes later, we were on our way. Mohammed was our guide and I’m sure that at first he though something like “here we go again with two chicks who probably don’t know how to drive…”. Well, he realised pretty quickly, that we were not your ordinary girls. Faster, higher is what we wanted. Mohammed took us to the very top of the sand dunes and we had the most spectacular view of the area! With only the sound of the wind, not a single person in site and the taste of sand in your mouth made the experience absolutely unforgettable!

The dunes of Erg Chebbi reach a height of up to 150 meters in places and altogether it spans an area of 50 kilometers from north to south and up to 5–10 kilometers from east to west.

The highest dunes are those near, or just south of, Merzouga itself, peaking with the aptly named Grand Dune de Merzouga, a golden mountain recognisable.

Erg Chebbi is one of Morocco’s two Saharan ergs near the small village of Merzouga. And erg is a large sea of dunes formed by wind-blown sand. The other is Erg Chigaga near M’hamid (south of Zagora).

On top of the highest sand dune of the Erg Chebbi. What a view?!

A berber walks along the sand dunes of Erg Chebbi.

When trying your luck with the Erg Chebbi sand dunes, be sure to know what you’re doing, or you’ll end up digging…

The view from up the top of the Erg Chebbi sand dunes was absolutely sunning. On one side, you see the Algerian border, on the other side the village of Merzouga and Hassilabied.

The Erg Chebbi sand dunes are spectacular at any time of day, but late afternoon was really the best time to view them.

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.

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!

As you all know, ticket prices go through the roof this time of the year, therefore a fly-away holiday was out of question (especially last minute). So after scanning the atlas for hours and thinking about our past travels through Africa by truck, we soon came to the conclusion that it was time for one of these adventures again. We checked out some shipping lines and managed to get a ticket on one of the many ferries that ply the Italian-Tunisian routes. Yes, Tunisia was our desired destination; orient, hookah, herbs, culture, nomads, camels & desert here we come!

A few days before Christmas Eve we were on our way to Genoa, where the ferry set off. The distance is around 1.000 km from Vienna and it took us 10 hours to get there – sounds pretty long but since we were travelling with our Pinzgauer truck, we couldn’t go faster than 100km/h.

After arriving at the port, we immediately got our truck in line with the others. These ferries are huge and up to 300 cars fit into the giant belly. Every centimetre counts and depending on the size and height of the car, you’re assigned your space on the ferry. The entire embarkation process took a few hours, so we had lot’s of time to spare. While waiting, we came across some nice little local tavernas in the port area, where pizza, pasta and the followed cappuccino just tastes a lot better than at home. The Italian atmosphere is simply magical :)

The ferry trip.

The ferry took about 25 hours from Genoa to Tunis, therefore a cabin is advisable. Unfortunately in our case, all cabins were booked already when we bought our ticket, so we took our hammocks and sleeping bags from the truck and started exploring the ship. You’ll find restaurants and bars, as well as enough entertainment, where travellers from all over Europe meet. Most of the tourists travelling by ferry are “off-roaders” because Tunisia by car or truck usually contains heavy off-road driving.

Anyway, after a quiet night on the ship, a bright and sunny morning greeted us. Customs was very easy, without the slightest hassle. After all, with so many cars disembarking, customs has to speed up as well. Soon after arrival, we were on our way down South.

Our route.

We wanted to get out of Tunis asap, since driving through the sand dunes was the most fun. Be patient though … if you expect sand dunes right after Tunis, you’ll be disappointed; it takes an entire day of driving until you reach them. We actually planned to drive to Tozeur (an oasis in the South-West of Tunisia) and further on to Douz by crossing the salt lake Chott El Jeridh. Douz itself is known as the “gateway to the Sahara” and an important starting point for desert explorers. Our desired destination was Ksar Ghilane because you have to cross high sand dunes about 150 km from Douz to get there.

Needed Gear.

When deciding to cross the Sahara, be sure to have a good compass, a GPS device and a fine map. There’s basically no road, only tracks (that can lead nowhere) and this can get confusing at times. It’s advisable to travel with a second vehicle if you’re not an experienced desert fox (like us haha). As said, some tracks lead to nowhere, so it’s good to check your position every few kilometres to make sure you’re on the right track.

We managed to arrive in Ksar Ghilane without any problems (no flat tyre, no sand digging and no unnecessary kilometres) after around 7 hours, just right in time to spend Christmas Eve with some other travellers at the camp ground. A nearby restaurant served delicious Tunisian food and after a few glasses of champagne we set up the hammocks between the cars and slept under the stars.

Some Impressions:

Camels are the lifeline in any desert.

Camping in the desert of Tunisia, Africa.

At a market in Tunis, Tunisia.

Sand dunes in the desert of Tunisia, Africa.

A public toilet in the desert of Tunisia, Africa.

A nomad near Douz in the desert of Tunisia, Africa.

Arriving at the oasis Douz in Tunisia, Africa.

I would now like to show you a couple of photos of these Africa-adventures. I think it’s really fascinating to see the difference to our travels today…even though we’re still as adventurous & crazy.

Travelling through the Congo was a real adventure (Baby Nisa in tow).

Fishermen pulling in the catch near Lome in Togo.

An approaching sand storm in the Sahara desert, Niger.

Pygmees in the Ituri Forest in the Congo.

Working conditions at Apapa harbour in Laos, Nigeria.

A bunch of kids in Rwanda.

Little Nisa & and an African boy in the Sudan.

Black & white kids kissing in the Sudan – this is our most viewed picture by the way…

This crowd in Morocco wanted to be photographed really badly :)

That’s what I call “being stuck in the mud” at Lake Magadi in Kenya.

Camping in the middle of the Sahara desert in the Sudan (again with baby Nisa in the picture).

Our companion while travelling through Africa was an Unimog truck.

Wild animals in Kenya, Africa.

Masai boys posing for us in Kenya, Africa.

On our first journey through Africa, we went with an old Graef & Stift truck.

Travelling through the Serengeti in Africa.

The Unimog was a great car for travelling Africa back in the days. Here we are in the Kalahari desert.