There's certainly nothing fake or 'touristy' about Rosso and from that point of view it is a fascinating place to wander about and just 'people watch'. The town itself is a classic ramshackle border town, but the focus of the place is the actual ferry port and customs area, which is fenced off, the gate carefully guarded to stop the noisy throng of chancers and 'wanabee border crossers' getting in. It's passports only from here on. Inside the ferry compound there's people having animated arguments with the customs officials, people with bags and trolleys piled high with produce, cars and vans jostling for position and trying to push in the queue for the next ferry, lots of waving, shouting and gesticulating. It's interesting to see the difference in appearance between the Arabic-looking Northern Mauritanians and the Sudanese-looking Senegalese. It's a good job it is a visually interesting place because, if the Customs men are so-inclined, you might be here a while. (Note that like all customs police at all borders, they are not that keen on you taking photos, even of the ferry for some reason, so be cautious with your photography).
I effectively did this tour while helping ATT recce the route last Autumn. I wasn't sure what to expect from Mauritania before I went. Lots of dunes and camels for sure, but would that be it? I was amazed by the reality. I have been lucky enough to see some of the world's great desert scenery in my time, and Mauritania ranks right up there. Stunning dunes, but also huge cliffs, weird rock formations, dramatic wadis, deep gorges, lush oases... Just driving through the ever-changing landscape (particularly the crazy dune drives) was incredible. As was sleeping out under the stars in the desert. For a full description of what this tour is like, see my blog on the homepage "Moonlight Over Mauritania".
I did the full day rafting back in the 90's. It was one of the best things - and certainly one of the scariest - I have ever done. We wiped out several times. And I don't just mean tipped over. I mean everyone launched out the boat and helplessly flying through the air! Only to land in a gigantic washing machine and be helplessly tossed about until the river chooses to spit you out in a quiet section. The raft captains can take different routes on the river to take account of different levels of 'fearlessness' amongst their passengers. In other words you can choose to go in a boat where you probably won't fall out at all, one where you might, but not too dramatically, and one where you just head recklessly and at speed right into the heart of every maelstrom! Definitely NOT for the faint-hearted.
I visited Zimbabwe back in the 90's as part of a Zimbabwe/Botswana trip. We did a horseriding safari on a private game reserve and a wonderful sunset boat cruise on the Zambezi, before 2 days at Vic Falls. The falls are spectacular from any angle, but for a bird's eye view we took a helicopter flight over them. Fantastic. We finished off with what are still, to this day, the two scariest things I have ever done in my life - the grade 5 white water rafting on the raging Zambezi. And the bungy jump off the bridge. As thrills go they just don't come much bigger or better!
I was lucky enough to go out on a trip to Uganda in 2002. Seeing those gorillas was undoubtedly one of the best experiences I have ever had. The babies were playing around just feet away and almost came up to us. The huge silverback was sat in a tree eating.But there were other fantastic highlights to that trip. The days spent lazing around on the Bunyonyi Islands, exotic birds and flowers everywhere, were idyllic. And the Grade 5 white water rafting on the Nile was...well quite terrifying actually! But awesome. (On one quiet, wide section a green snake actually swam over and jumped into the boat with us for a while!) The scenery is just stunning and the people, as Alan says above, are really lovely too.
We never got to do a boat trip out to see the sandbanks sadly, but we did have lunch on the beach at Cape Tafarit. The fixed campsite there would be a wonderful place to overnight for sure, with the sound of the waves crashing all night. And we saw plenty of different birds just by driving along the shore.
The ‘ships graveyard’ near Cap Blanc reminded us very much of South Africa’s Skeleton Coast. Most of the wrecks were deliberate ‘insurance jobs’ we were told, but one particularly large and impressive recent addition was apparently a pure accident. As we walked around the slowly-rusting hulk on the beach, I could just imagine the colourful language that must have flowed as the ship’s owners realised their nice new vessel, grounded on a sandbank after a spot of engine trouble, was going nowhere. Sadly, scour the beach as we might, we didn’t spot one of the world’s only remaining (100 or so) Monk seals; just a lone dolphin splashing in the surf. We did however see the world’s longest train, the 270 wagon long leviathan that transports iron ore 24/7 from the Mauritanian interior to the coast for export.
I have been fortunate enough to have been to some of the most spectacular desert scenery in the world - Egypt, Jordan, Syria, the Western USA, Namibia, South Africa - and I have to say, what I saw in Mauritania rivals any of them. Indeed it mixes them all up and offers you the best bits of each. Massive dunes, huge canyons, vast Wadis, tranquil oases, empty quarters, strange eroded buttes, palm trees, thatched villages, friendly, smiling people in brightly-coloured dress...The desert driving - like being on a trackless rollercoaster gone mad - was worth the trip alone. Then there were the nights camping under huge, star-filled skies; the dips in clear oasis pools; the evocative desert ruins, coastal bird life, amazing fresh fish kebabs; and yes even the camel stew!I would highly recommend Mauritania to anyone.
The drive to the coast itself (from the Nouadhibou direction, ie Morroco)was amazing. Without resort to sat nav or compass, for many kilometres we simply ‘flew’ (and at 80 kph or so, that is what it felt like!) across flat, almost featureless desert. Just as we were starting to wonder if our driver was lost, the scenery changed. Large cliffs gradually appeared on either side of us until we were heading down a clear ‘funnel’ towards the coast. The Atlantic coast when we finally hit it again was wild, windswept and beautiful. We never got to do a boat trip out to see the sandbanks sadly, but we did have lunch on the beach at Cape Tafarit. The fixed campsite there would be a wonderful place to overnight for sure, with the sound of the waves crashing all night. And we saw plenty of different birds just by driving along the shore.
Some people love big cities in ‘developing countries’ for their sheer vitality and fascination. I am more of the “necessary evil” school. Cities for me are somewhere to get supplies, a hot shower if you’re lucky, and to find an airport if you need one. Give me the wide open spaces over the urban sprawl any day. Nouakchott is a big sprawling capital city: dusty, chaotic, full of traffic, colourful, bustling, vibrant and, at times, very hot. Street stalls selling every conceivable thing were everywhere, as were goats, who seemed to walk about the city as they pleased. But I was able to find my rather specialised lithium camera battery, so that was a result. And the beach when the fishermen came back with their catches was great.
Even by the standards of Namibia’s Sossusvlei, these were unfeasibly large dunes, and they made an unfeasibly beautiful backdrop to our camp. As we chatted over dinner under a star-filled sky, a huge, almost full moon rose illuminating the desert until you could practically read a book by it. It was a truly memorable scene, and we all agreed we felt like we were camped in front of a gigantic movie set. Next morning after breakfast, as the crew packed up camp, we took a walk into the dunes. It was fascinating to observe the myriad forms and patterns in the sand. The dunes came in all manner of shapes and sizes, forever sculpted and re-sculpted by the squalls and eddies of the desert wind. It was even more interesting to examine all the various tracks made overnight by a succession of unseen birds, rodents and animals – so much life apparently happily existing in this, on the face of it lifeless, environment.
Atar town made a great spot to get some much-needed cold drinks, snacks etc for our journey into the Atar region - in both directions. It's a compact place with a relaxed air about it, but a busy busting market. You actually see other tourists here - a rarity on our trip otherwise.
On our trip we stopped briefly to admire the spectacularly-located ruin of Fort Sagane. Apparently it is the subject of a Gerard Depardieu Foreign Legion film in French, and we all resolved to get the DVD out on our return.
I can only back up what the text says. There is fantastic scenery here that rivals anything I've seen anywhere. On several occasions while crossing it we all had to jump out of the car and walk to give the 4x4 less weight, at which point the car would do a pretty favourable impression of Chris Bonnington! Our cars did things the like of which I’ve only ever seen on 4x4 TV ads. Remarkable. A memorable journey.
Magically, just at the right time, as the day was losing its heat but the light was becoming warm and deep, we arrived at the ancient ruined city of Ouadane. Oudane is in an even more ruined state than Chinguetti but is even more magical. The young guide we had did his best to tell us about the history, and explain what each room was (in a strongly-accented French). But I’m afraid the David Baileys among us were captivated by the wonderful light playing across the impossibly photogenic ruins. So I’m afraid most of the history lesson fell on deaf ears.
Though mostly in ruins today, the old city is still a wonderful place to visit. We took a walk about the crumbling old town and visited one of the ancient libraries. The old caretaker told us about how many of the ancient texts were sadly lost over the last few decades, destroyed both by the elements and naughty children at play before their great worth to posterity was remembered. Amazingly, in what I had expected would be a tourist honeypot, we saw not a single tourist. So if the many ladies selling local handmade jewellery, wooden boxes and other souvenir trinkets were a little pushy, they could hardly be blamed. They had families to feed after all.
I went down to see the beach about 17:30 and it was definitely a worthwhile visit. The boats themselves, long and canoe-like, are indeed brightly-painted and number into the hundreds. The women on the shore, standing haggling with the fishermen over the price they will pay for their catches, are also fantastically colourful. No-one has ever told these women ‘brown is the new black’; they don’t do either colour. But they do do just about every other colour imaginable, seemingly the ‘louder’ and more eye-catching the better. I have to say I found it a real joy to see these ladies in their technicolour dresses, with their broad white smiles and their infectious laughs, so much a part of the scene. (How markedly different to much of the Arab world, where women are hardly to be seen outside the home, and if they are they must be dressed from head to foot in black, even when swimming in the sea!) The variety of the strange fish you'll see in the market area is also fascinating.
