13 April, Tuesday Wadi Halfa (wait for car and Sammie)
The night is hot, stuffy and noisy with crazy midnight-barking dogs, confused roosters, clanging metal doors reverberating through the night. We wake up sweaty, lethargic and worried about Sammie and our car on the barge. The wind churns up dust and sand, the earth starts to bake early and another long day with uncertainty gnawing lies ahead of us. It is a strange place to be: not knowing what to do, where to go, what to say…
Willie and I walk to where we thought the photo permit place was. We are pointed in a different direction and on our way out we meet 2 German bikers. They are leaving later the day on the ferry to Aswan. We sit in the shade on small chairs in front of a lady who serves coffee and tea in glass cups. It is a painstakingly meticulous process. She sits behind her low table, an upturned bottle crate, on which are displayed several glass jars with different kinds of spices. You pick your spice for coffee or tea, she then boils her water on a small coal stove. She rinses one glass, scoops out coffee grains, adds the spice, in my case Ginger, and sugar and then adds the boiling water. With no expression on her face does she stir the brew for as long as she knows it to be, pulls out a small silver looking tray, and serve the coffee to you. She then proceeds with the second, third, fourth glass. It is worth the wait, the sweet, spicy brew is delicious and tasty!
The Germans are returning home after 4 years and they have many incredible and interesting stories to share. It is wonderful to be able to communicate, share worries, voice questions and laugh! We feel more energized, more ready to “run the race”; to complete our journey; to face the challenges.
They come to the hotel with their 600cc BMW bikes to meet the Dutch biker couple and after we say goodbye we walk over to the restaurant. We were told if we want fish, then we need to be there between 10 and 4. The fish has not come yet, but we sit on the porch (in the shade) fanning flies away and drinking fresh guava juice. An hour later a basket of freshly caught fish is carried in and another hour later plates laden with 3 pieces of fish for each are put before us! Fish, bread and a small salad – a delicious lunch worth waiting for.
The sun is blistering and we return to the protection of our hotel rooms. No news of the barge, thus no news of Sammie. I show Willie the picture I took of him on the barge just before we left and for the first time voice what none of us wanted to say, “Maybe this was the last picture of him…?” “Is that what you think?” Willie asks. We tell ourselves that everything will be fine, but we don’t know. We feel so helpless not being able to know or find out. So the waiting game continues. The barge might come today, but probably tomorrow.
We take a nap; the boys go for a walk with the Dutch couple and then the hotel owner comes to call Willie – Magdy is on the phone. The barge is in the port! Willie and the Dutch have to come immediately, because the port closes at 5. They ask a taxi to take them and I stay on my bed – praying, thoughts running, praying…
Then an hour later Andrej walks in with a happy smile. Sammie is fine, the car is fine – it is parked outside of the hotel. I walk out and there he is! We have a dusty reunion in front of bemused onlookers. Dogs are not much liked in the Middle Eastern culture. They are seen as ‘haram’ (unclean) and usually run around in hungry, stray packs. Sammie and our relationship with him have drawn attention as far as we’ve traveled. People, especially kids, are fascinated with him, but very afraid. They stare, point and laugh, but the slightest movement coming from the little black body elicits an immediate flight reaction even though we assure them that he is friendly etc. So, I make a spectacle of myself, but really do not care about it.
Click Play:
The night is hot, stuffy and noisy with crazy midnight-barking dogs, confused roosters, clanging metal doors reverberating through the night. We wake up sweaty, lethargic and worried about Sammie and our car on the barge. The wind churns up dust and sand, the earth starts to bake early and another long day with uncertainty gnawing lies ahead of us. It is a strange place to be: not knowing what to do, where to go, what to say…
Willie and I walk to where we thought the photo permit place was. We are pointed in a different direction and on our way out we meet 2 German bikers. They are leaving later the day on the ferry to Aswan. We sit in the shade on small chairs in front of a lady who serves coffee and tea in glass cups. It is a painstakingly meticulous process. She sits behind her low table, an upturned bottle crate, on which are displayed several glass jars with different kinds of spices. You pick your spice for coffee or tea, she then boils her water on a small coal stove. She rinses one glass, scoops out coffee grains, adds the spice, in my case Ginger, and sugar and then adds the boiling water. With no expression on her face does she stir the brew for as long as she knows it to be, pulls out a small silver looking tray, and serve the coffee to you. She then proceeds with the second, third, fourth glass. It is worth the wait, the sweet, spicy brew is delicious and tasty!
The Germans are returning home after 4 years and they have many incredible and interesting stories to share. It is wonderful to be able to communicate, share worries, voice questions and laugh! We feel more energized, more ready to “run the race”; to complete our journey; to face the challenges.
They come to the hotel with their 600cc BMW bikes to meet the Dutch biker couple and after we say goodbye we walk over to the restaurant. We were told if we want fish, then we need to be there between 10 and 4. The fish has not come yet, but we sit on the porch (in the shade) fanning flies away and drinking fresh guava juice. An hour later a basket of freshly caught fish is carried in and another hour later plates laden with 3 pieces of fish for each are put before us! Fish, bread and a small salad – a delicious lunch worth waiting for.
The sun is blistering and we return to the protection of our hotel rooms. No news of the barge, thus no news of Sammie. I show Willie the picture I took of him on the barge just before we left and for the first time voice what none of us wanted to say, “Maybe this was the last picture of him…?” “Is that what you think?” Willie asks. We tell ourselves that everything will be fine, but we don’t know. We feel so helpless not being able to know or find out. So the waiting game continues. The barge might come today, but probably tomorrow.
We take a nap; the boys go for a walk with the Dutch couple and then the hotel owner comes to call Willie – Magdy is on the phone. The barge is in the port! Willie and the Dutch have to come immediately, because the port closes at 5. They ask a taxi to take them and I stay on my bed – praying, thoughts running, praying…
Then an hour later Andrej walks in with a happy smile. Sammie is fine, the car is fine – it is parked outside of the hotel. I walk out and there he is! We have a dusty reunion in front of bemused onlookers. Dogs are not much liked in the Middle Eastern culture. They are seen as ‘haram’ (unclean) and usually run around in hungry, stray packs. Sammie and our relationship with him have drawn attention as far as we’ve traveled. People, especially kids, are fascinated with him, but very afraid. They stare, point and laugh, but the slightest movement coming from the little black body elicits an immediate flight reaction even though we assure them that he is friendly etc. So, I make a spectacle of myself, but really do not care about it.
Click Play:
Willie finishes the final paperwork and documents for the car and I’ve never seen us pack up and leave as fast as we do. All 4 of us want to leave the hotel and be out of there. We prefer our own dirt, dust, discomfort, food and odors than that offered by a minus 3 star primitive hotel.
We drive out of town and then head into the desert – but 15 minutes away. The sun is getting ready to set and there is even a reprieve in the heat, but it could also be our imaginations. None of us are hungry, but we sit outside, watch the starts, play backgammon and enjoy Sammie’s company more than ever before. Him being away from us has made us realize what an important travel companion he has become for all of us – in spite of the inconveniences here and there. He reeks of diesel as he probably laid under the car during the day on his barge trip.
Willie shares his moment of anxiety when he went to the port. The car was there, but no sign of Sammie. He opened the door and no Sammie and then from under the steering wheel the little black head appeared. Relief flooded over Willie and Sammie was beside himself when he realized that it was Willie. He did not know what to do with himself. Willie said he has never seen him so happy.
We go to bed under a canopy of brilliant stars in a quiet desert. The Southern Cross appears just above the horizon and I know we are slowly, but surely crawling closer to home. We are in Sudan after many difficulties and back on the road again.
Click Play:
We drive out of town and then head into the desert – but 15 minutes away. The sun is getting ready to set and there is even a reprieve in the heat, but it could also be our imaginations. None of us are hungry, but we sit outside, watch the starts, play backgammon and enjoy Sammie’s company more than ever before. Him being away from us has made us realize what an important travel companion he has become for all of us – in spite of the inconveniences here and there. He reeks of diesel as he probably laid under the car during the day on his barge trip.
Willie shares his moment of anxiety when he went to the port. The car was there, but no sign of Sammie. He opened the door and no Sammie and then from under the steering wheel the little black head appeared. Relief flooded over Willie and Sammie was beside himself when he realized that it was Willie. He did not know what to do with himself. Willie said he has never seen him so happy.
We go to bed under a canopy of brilliant stars in a quiet desert. The Southern Cross appears just above the horizon and I know we are slowly, but surely crawling closer to home. We are in Sudan after many difficulties and back on the road again.
Click Play:
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