Ok, it’s been a couple of days since I last posted, Nouachock was a night to remember, I didn’t stay at Hotel Sahara it was actually called Auberge Samira. It was a great secure space with a night guard, his muscles were huge! I figured the bike was safe and left most of my gear on the bike.

The room was average and it had a fan too which was just as well as after settling down for the night and getting to sleep I awoke at 1.30am absolutely roasting, it was still 30 degrees with the fan on full whack! No way, how am I supposed to sleep at that temperature!

For a change when I woke early the hotel staff were active and the very keen receptionist made me coffee, first time I had Nescafé on this trip but it was large and it did the trick.

Back on the road I diapers in a wild camp spot on Diama Dam, just about 6km from the Senegalese border point. It wasn’t that far, maybe only 170 miles but the journey was to take around five hours, sometimes it’s like that around here.

On the road the checkpoints came thick and fast and the trusty ‘fische’ working its miracles as usual, most checkpoints didn’t even want to see my passport, just the fische, makes life much easier.

A couple of European bikes approach and we stop to pass the time of day, one is on a trusty 600 Transalp, the other astride a brand new Yamaha T7, he was a happy bunny and loving his new bike. They were kitted out pretty much the same as me with spare fuel and water and Kreiga bags on the T7. We spent a while exchanging stories and then parted out ways, they had come over the Dam and said it was passable. They are from the Czechoslovakia and are on their way back home.

I was aware that I was getting close to a junction in the road, it’s important to make a right here or you end up at Rosso, officially the second most difficult border to cross in the whole of Africa, I pulled over at the junction and car drivers caught my attention to direct me towards Diama, it’s bad for them too at Rosso, they describe it as ‘total mafiosa’. Good job I know which way to Diama then!

I loop back and take the correct road almost immediately to be stopped at a police checkpoint, they invite me in for tea and I gladly accept, I was ready for a break and this appeared to be a reasonable opportunity.

For the next half hour one of the guards was giving me the horror stories about the condition of the Diama road, he said it wasn’t passable by Moto and that I would have to hire a truck to carry my bike. I ask about fuel and he says the only way to get fuel is through him and that it wouldn’t be a problem if I hire his truck! I drink his tea accept his advice and tell him I’m going to look anyway, if I need him I will be back.

As I leave they are both washing their hands and feet to pray, I use this juncture to make a quick exit but I’m asked for ‘cadeaux’ i Hand over a few coins, he says ‘it’s nothing’ I say you don’t usually have to pay for hospitality, jump on my bike and head off.

The first part of the Diama road was being constructed the last time I was here, it was a horrible dusty rutted and potholes mess but since then the road has been paved with lovely tarmac. The first section is about 40km long and it rolls gently through the hills with ‘lush’ (for here) green pastures either side of the road and many cattle crossing or just hanging out on the roads.

The road doesn’t stay good for long, I come a Ross patches where the tarmac is breaking up and some where it’s completely gone and the road becomes dirt again, given that it was built only six years ago it’s pretty poor.

It doesn’t detract from the lovely green scenery though, days in the desert are long and hard and I’m very pleased to see new ground, it feels a little cooler too which is a relief.

Turning off the road towards Diama is a different kettle of fish! I was looking forward to a bit of off road and Diama did not disappoint, there was quite a bit of work going on and so I encountered many lorries carting stone to shore up the road. It’s not really a road to be honest it’s a mud track and you can imagine what it’s like with 30 ton wagons rolling up and down it all day. It made for an enjoyable ride actually.

On occasion I manage to get up speed and I actually engaged top gear a few times it to be abruptly slowed down by a struggling car or a washout (remember those Doug!) across the road. They would catch you out but I managed to concentrate and keep myself safe.

I came across a truck that had hit a bog in the road and rolled, it didn’t look great but I expect it will be back on the road in a few days.

Im having a ball, the road is a real challenge this time and the CRF is handling it well. I come across some fishermen and inspect their catch, I did consider buying one but didn’t fancy the mix of fumes and dust that go into the curing process!!

Im on my way again and enjoying the track, I have about 10k to go to my wild camp and I’m looking forward to the rest.

Spotting a small shop I venture in to buy supplies, they have very little so I buy sweets for the kids instead, that was fun more and more kept arriving, in the end I gave up and left.

Four more km’s and I find the spot.

Turning off the track and into the bush i’m on soft sand again and I carefully make my way some distance from the road and find a suitable site for the evening.

I make camp and get the kettle on for a lovely coffee. I’m on the sardines again but no bread this time as all I could find was stale so I gave it a miss.

This is an amazing place, well off the beaten track with no chance of discovery, the wildlife is excellent, particularly the birds and I enjoyed the sights and sounds of the bush until the sun decided to retire for the day. This was a cue to me too and I’m in bed by 7.25pm.

I lie and listen to the sounds of the night and drift off to sleep. Waking at 1.30 I see the bike is also losing down! Damn, I have to get out to be attacked by the mozzies. I solve the problem and jump back inside along with a few unwanted visitors.

i quietly dispatch them and note that they have already had their fill. Bite Relief Click goes some way to making life a little more comfortable and I’m off to sleep again.

Early to bed, Early to rise and I break camp, have a lovely coffee and head for the border.

Leaving Mauritania was a breeze, I did get asked for illegal payments it stood fast and refused, documents were stamped regardless, I paid the fees you should pay and I’m off over the bridge to Senegal.

Bridge Dee paid and its now the Police, they issue my free! Visa, that’s a bonus as I expected to pay, then I have to get a temporary import permit which is twice the price as it’s a weekend, I hadn’t realised that!

All sorted and I’m in Senegal, the road is flanked by trees and I am loving it, my destination for today is Zebra Bar, an Overlanders Oasis and a place I’ve been before. Passing through St Louis I’m reminded of how much a problem plastic waste is. Compared to this we really don’t appear to have much of an issue back home.

Turning off the main road onto a sandy tack I pick up the signs for Zebra Bar and onto sandy tracks to reach my destination. I’m met at the gate by Martin, the owner and he welcomes me with open arms.

’ I hear you have beer Martin’ he jokes and say ‘we have one’. ‘I’d better have that then’ is my reply.

I set up camp and sort out some domestics. I eating here tonight and looking forward to it too.

A quick dip in the warm sea and I’m dressed for dinner.

Now to plan what next?