I was wrong: all was not right with the world. You can imagine the look on our faces when the car wouldn’t start. Yesterday we had a blown fuse, now today a dead battery. Top it all off with Ahmed’s trickery and you had two very unhappy campers.
He assured us it was only a “small problem” – nothing a pair of jumper cables couldn’t fix. He set off on foot to enlist some help from the nearby town. As he walked away, he turned back and said, “I’ll be back in five minutes.” To him, “five minutes’” is somewhere between 20 minutes and two hours. If he said anything above five it might as well be all day.
He returned, jumped the car, drove five feet and it died… again. By this time, the help was gone, so he set out on foot once more. Is all he needed was “five more minutes.” The second attempt was a bust, as the car battery wasn’t strong enough. Awesome. Luckily, third times’ a charm. He pulled up with an entire family in tow. It took a while, but eventually the battery was brought back to life, and we were good to go.
We stopped in Choum to purchase fuel and attempt to resolve our mechanical issues. Several men took turns fiddling underneath the hood. Sparks, plugs, fuses, batteries… your guess is as good as mine. They huffed and puffed to no avail. We passed the time by playing with the local kids. Chasing, high-fives, and silly faces ensued. They love that stuff. Well, at least they usually do. My playmates ended up running away from me in tears. What can I say? Sometimes that happens.
A few hours later we arrived in Atar. The scenery along the way was stunning, as usual. If it wasn’t for Ahmed and the unforgiving sun, I wouldn’t mind breaking down. Mauritania is the kind of place you almost wish to get lost in. If I didn’t have a family, I would see to it that I do.
Within a few minutes of settling into our Auberge our fearless leader informed us that the battery was in fact toast, and we needed a new one. Great. He hesitated, but eventually asked us to lend him the funds. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but we had limited access to money due to the lack of ATM’s throughout the country. We had just enough money to cover our desert escapade and make it to Nouakchott, where we could replenish our stock of Ouguiya. We were once again backed into a corner.
Rich explained the situation to him, but said we’d be happy to lend him the cash. At this point, Ahmed’s story changed, as it often did. He said we could get a temporary fix to tie him over until we reached the capital. This would cost a fraction of the price, so it seemed like a win-win for everyone. We handed over the O’s, and spent the rest of our evening nursing our colds (yes, we had horrible colds in the desert), doing impressions of you know who, and attempting to make something edible for dinner.
We spent the night sneezing, sniffling, and suffocating in an oven of a room, while getting attacked by relentless mosquitoes. Needless to say, we weren’t exactly cheery the next morning. While eating breakfast, we noticed Ahmed struggling to get the car started; surely this had to be a joke. I tried to convince myself that he had grown a pair, and wanted to get a rise out of us. I secretly gave him props for getting a sense of humor – Ahmed the jokester. Clever. Very clever. Sadly, I was caught up in a delusional fantasy, and we were F’d.
We had time to kill, so while Ahmed set out in search of a solution, we visited the local bank to inquire about getting funds. The internet, our guide book, and every person we talked to, said there were absolutely no ATM’s in the Adrar region. They were wrong. We found two the night before, but both machines were out of order. A man sitting behind a big desk took a long look at my Visa card. He made a call on his cell phone, but didn’t reach anyone. We stood there in silence as he continued to stare at the card, both front and back. After a good five minutes he determined it would work, but said we needed to come back in an hour – easy enough.
Fast-forward a few hours and we had a new battery, some extra cash (it turns out the machines do work, they just rarely stock them), food in our stomachs, and a fresh outlook. The tide had finally turned.
Our next destination was the beautiful oasis of Tergit. We made a stop at the Gendermarie station on the outskirts of town, when along came our friend, Joris. We met him at the Mauritanian embassy in Rabat while obtaining our visas. We had exchanged a few emails previously, but I didn’t expect to cross paths with him here… in the middle of nowhere. It turns out that he arrived in Nouadhibou just after we departed. He hopped the iron-ore train to Choum, where he caught a taxi to Atar, and then hitch-hiked the rest of the way. We were mildly jealous of his journey, but his ability to speak French made it much more enjoyable, I’m sure. I’m making headway with our phrasebook, but it’s an uphill battle to say the least.
The Oasis of Tergit was everything we had hoped for, as far as settings go. It’s nestled into a canyon on the edge of town. The trickling sound from the springs, mixed with the swaying palms was enough to put me into a trance. We sought refuge beneath an open-air tent for much of the afternoon, while swapping stories with Joris. When he retreated to his Auberge, we went for a hike in the canyon. We found a perfect spot to take in the views of the village and valley below. Sitting there, perched high on a rock, I couldn’t help but feel lucky; not only for the view, but the company too. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’ll gladly accept it.
When we made our way back, we informed Ahmed that we wanted to stay for the night. He was less than pleased with the news. He tried to say that it was ‘too dangerous’ for him due to malaria, but the Auberge staff called his bluff. As usual, he didn’t stop there. Ahmed was cranky and full of excuses. He went on and on about the buzzing mosquitoes being too loud and security concerns, but we wouldn’t budge. This was our trip, not his. The only reason he didn’t want to stay was because his friend owns an Auberge close by. End of story. After going back and forth, we all agreed to disagree. We stayed at the oasis and Ahmed went into town.
Before he took off for the night, we inquired about having Joris join us for a few days. We assumed this wouldn’t be a problem, but who were we kidding? This is Ahmed, and everything is a problem – every little thing. After a good game of tug-of-war, Ahmed caved, and said it wouldn’t be an issue; he just needed to clear it with his sister, who assists him with his agency. Apparently, adding a third person would affect the validity of our contract. The contract, if you can even call it that, was basically chicken-scratch on a spare piece of paper. Not exactly official, if you know what I mean. We agreed to wait until morning for confirmation. It was a definite maybe.
After dinner, we played musical tents, attempting to escape the bats. I must admit that I squealed like a little girl at first. Bats with their beady little eyes give me the creeps. After finally getting settled, we looked around and realized everyone had cleared out, even the staff. All that talk about security and then they disappear on us. Hmmmmm. At least we had each other.
