Dag 67: Nouakchott na Nouadhibou

(English Translation Below)

Dag 67: Nouakchott na Nouadhibou
 
Die Sahara is wyd. Dit trek jou in. Vul jou met ontsag. Ons het omtrent 500km om te ry vandag op 'n reguit lyn teerpad deur die woestyn. Hier en daar 'n duin wat in die nag oor die pad begin skuif het. Heelpad 'n laken sand wat dwars oor die pad waai.
 
Skielik maak die landskap 'n vallei voor ons oop. 'n Uitgestrekte see van sandduine waarin ons neerdaal. Die wind waai dat die motorfietse skeeflê en ons valhelms ons sonbrille skuins teen ons koppe druk. Môre gaan ons nekke styf wees. Gelukkig is dit nie te warm vandag nie, net 35 grade Celcius.
 
Halfpad oppad Nouadhibou toe is 'n nedersetting waar ons petrol kan kry. Die geboutjies is soos dobbelsteentjies in die sand gestrooi. Plat en vaal met sand teen die mure opgewaai. Donkies en kamele orals. Ons sien 'n petrolstasie, so 200 meter van die teerpad af in die diksand. Ry in soontoe. Val nie om nie. Geen petrol. Terug teerpad toe. Nog 'n stasie 'n entjie verder aan die oorkant van die pad. Weer die diksand-vet-oopmaak maneuvre. Weer geen petrol. Eers by die vierde stasie waar ons stop kry ons petrol. By die enigste pomp wat nog oorhet.
 
Die laaste 200km is sonder duine. Net 'n witwye niksheid. En die wind wat deur mens se gedagtes kom waai. Eenvoud bring.
 
Day 67: Nouakchott to Nouadhibou
 
The Sahara is vast. It draws you in. Fills you with awe. We have about 500km to ride today on a straight-line asphalt road through the desert. Here and there a dune that has started to screep over the road during the night. A sheet of sand blowing across the road the entire way.
 
Suddenly, the landscape opens up a valley in front of us. An endless sea of sand dunes into which we descend. The wind blows, causing the motorcycles to lean, and our helmets press our sunglasses askew against our heads. Tomorrow, our necks will be stiff. Fortunately, it's not too hot today, just 35 degrees Celsius.
 
Halfway to Nouadhibou is a village where we can get petrol. The buildings are scattered like dices in the sand. Flat and faded with sand blown against the walls. Donkeys and camels everywhere. We see a petrol station about 200 meters from the asphalt road in the thick sand. We ride there without falling over. No petrol. Back to the asphalt road. Another station a bit further on the other side of the road. Again, the thick sand open-throttle-manoeuvre. Again, no petrol. Only at the fourth station where we stop, do we get petrol. At the only pump that is still working.
The last 200km is without dunes. Just a wide white nothingness. And the wind blowing through our thoughts. Bringing simplicity.

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