Distance: Going by bus for safety reasons
Country: Mauritania
Song of the Day: Bus to Beelzebub - Soul Coughing
I woke up and Moctahr took me back to his cafe. (I had left my b
ike there.) He made breakfast and some tea. The tea was different than in Morocco. Still sweet, but they added milk to it. Quite good. He even helped me get a ticket for the noon bus to the capital. Moctahr, much appreciated my friend. I wish you all the best.The bus ride itself was pretty uneventful. Other than the fact that it was miserably hot. We were going through a lot of what I think of as real desert. Big dunes. I actually don't know how they keep the sand of the road. Not my problem I guess. The only annoying thing was the frequent police checkpoints. They never hassled me for bribes or anything. But the bus would have to stop, and on a few of them they would pull the baggage out and inspect it. (They never inspected mine. I don't think they do that to westerners for whatever reason.) Then they would ask me for my passport, and slowly write my information in a book. (I wonder if anyone actually check the books.) This would leave me standing in the sand on the side of the road baking in the heat. Unpleasant. Still, if it helps reduce the threat of terrorism, I am all for it. I am pretty glad I took the bus. Cycling would have been miserable.
We got into the capitol just as the sun was setting. I had heard that you shouldn't walk around at night in the city, so I just found the nearest place that you could stay. It was overpriced, but it was there. Oh well. There is always tomorrow.
-Dravis
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