Danny Gilly

By the time we had crossed into Togo it was late in the day and we had little time to find the campsite. It was a bit unnerving as the moment you cross the border you are spat out right into the centre of Lome and forced to negotiate the gauntlet that is African urban driving. Even in the fading light you could see that the city had seen better days as we drove along the promenade passing the various crumbling edifices that were thrown up in the post independence building boom. Although the palm tinged promenade and wide colonial era boulevards had a certain charm the city had long lost its tag as the Paris of West Africa. After a few wrong turns around the docks and some questioning from an inquisitive policemen we manage ... read more

The first thing that struck us when we entered the Mali immigration control was just how professional everything looked. Uniforms were clean and crisp, offices were neat and tidy and the officers were polite and friendly. Within 20 minutes we had been processed and were on our way with not a bribe in sight. We were slightly anxious with the prospect of heading to Bamako but we were soon distracted with beautiful rolling countryside that was punctuated with the occasional huge rocky outcrops. It only took three hours to get the capital and we were surprised to find it a pretty modern city that straddled the mighty Niger river. We had actually already passed over the Niger back in Guinea but it was a trickle of a stream compared with the huge expanse of water that ... read more

We set out across no-man’s land with certain sense trepidation. The three kilometre stretch of unpaved road between the two respective countries customs posts was heavily mined during the 70s as part of the on going conflict over the Western Sahara. The twisted remains of various shattered vehicles offered a sharp reminder as to what happens if you strayed off the marked path. In the distance we saw the cluster of windswept buildings that represented the Mauritanian border. As expected the place was chaos, money changers, taxi drivers, truckers and border police were all vying for business. The Mauritanian Gendarmerie had the swagger and look of uniformed thugs and you could see their eyes light up when they saw our vehicle. We had back on the Moroccan border decided to employ the services of a ‘helper’ ... read more

Nador, it did not look too encouraging from the boat as we approached the harbour, a long sprawl of concrete apartment blocks and cheap hotels. The place had only been built after independence to provide Morocco with an alternative port to Spanish controlled Melilla a few kilometres to the north and the place had the look and feel of a town that had been thrown up in a hurry. After several manoeuvres the captain slotted the boat into the docking berth and powered down the engines. We felt the clunk and thud of heavy machinery and the opening of doors beneath our feet as we waiting to be allowed to return to our vehicles. This was it, we would soon be on African soil. We emerged from the bowels of the ship blinking as our eyes ... read more