12/09/2023 Bikepacking Mauritania Day 123 : Atar to Tidjikja part 1 of 4

Lying in my tent, a variegated red sunrise began to unfold, making me think now would be a good time to get out and take a picture of the colorful light. That moment, I heard the water pump (that you manually have to activate) come on. The guy who worked at the little camp was washing up at the sink. A minute later, he was kneeling on a mat next to my tent, singing “Allah, Allah, Allah, Salamalaykum.” Really, that is all this Eastward facing guy would sing over and over. Rather than disturb the moment with a photo, I just sat there and enjoyed the melodious morning.

Bowing before the desert sunrise on a mat and singing… That’s a great way to start the day; and it kept getting better. I went to go buy some groceries and the guys invited me for some tea but I told them that I couldn’t drink tea with sugar. This time, they said no problem - making a special pot of tea without sugar for me over the coals on the store’s tile floor. Can you imagine being in Vons or Albertsons and crouching around a little fire with a teapot on it? They passed me a cell phone playing a video in Arabic. In French, they explained either that “Tourist Season has begun in Mauritania” or that “French Tourists are coming to Mauritania.” Either way, they seemed to love this video. They brought out a junky bicycle and held it next to mine and said, “c’est la meme chose.” (It’s the same thing). They kind of giggled. I didn’t know what to say. So I just agreed, “Oui, c’est la meme.” You can see how elementary our conversations can be at times.

I was doing an out-and-back to see the oasis at Terjit. Along the way, I surrendered 3 of my fiche cards (those passport photocopies) to the friendly military guys. On the way in to the oasis, a guy had graced me with an award winning smile, asking if I wanted to buy some dates. I said “no, thanks”. On the way back, he asked again; his smile so big and welcoming, I decided to stop and ask if he could sell me some water. The man looked like a black Albert Einstein, sans mustache and about 60 pounds lighter. He had a welcoming perma-smile and teeth jutting out in every direction. After I bought the water, he got even more excited - saying we should have some tea. I went through the sugar thing and he said he would make a special pot just for me. He ran to his house - bursting with excitement. This is going to be a big deal guys; tea sans sugar is sacrilege here.

Another guy had been slouching nearby in the dirt. While Einstein was fetching the pots, this guy patted a nearby mat suggesting I sit next to him. He looked a lot like Robert Redford with some modifications… it would be as if you had left Mr. Redford out in the sun with no food for a week… and he was having a bad teeth day. His name was “Huelda-Ali“ and he spoke French very well. Hope I spelled his name right. He said he really wanted to build a store for selling stuff - but it was difficult and expensive. He had a down-to-earth nature about him, and asked a little bit about my trip, told me all the places I could go nearby, and confirmed that the road to Tiyikya was paved and in good condition. I asked him how old he was, but he did not know. Maybe 30 or 40’he surmised. I thought he might be 50.

I guess if you don’t know your age, you can’t “act your age,” which seems to be working out fine for these guys. It is a pretty tranquil life when you get excited pointing out that one bike is the same thing as another bike.

After that deplorable start to Mauritania in Nouadhibou, I thought I wouldn’t like it in this country… but I love squatting in the dirt and sipping tea with all these friendly people. Yeah, and so much caffeine might play a role too.

I asked if I could pay for the tea. They said, “The tea is free.” I had already pulled out several coins and “accidentally” left them on the mat. Before I could ride away, Huelda-Ali saw them and said “you forgot it”. I said it was for them for being so good. Einstein jumped up and tried to give me a big bag of dates. I used the diabetes card to exempt myself from the gift, and he settled down. Good people here.

At the next hut, I decided to get some bread and canned veggies. This woman didn’t have so much French, but I got the feeling she understood. She talked loudly at a little girl and pointed down the dirt road. Since I didn’t see any bread in the store, I got the feeling that she had ordered the 3 year old girl to get bread. Meanwhile, I squatted on the dirt floor of the hut with the woman as we drew numbers in the sand. If you had been watching, you might have thought we were in the process of splitting Yugoslavia up into 7 nations. But no, we are just working out the price of the can of veggies and two loaves of bread.

You may remember that I said the currency had dropped a zero in 2018. In “advanced” stores (like ones that have a cash register and a floor that you can’t write on with your finger), they quote the price using the numbers you see on the bills in your hand. In other places, such as this thatched hut, they quote the pre-2018 price with an extra zero. I can see how you can’t go wrong with starting high. How many tourists, I wonder, have paid $30 USD for two loaves of bread and a can of vegetables?

The little girl returned; in her arms, two baguettes formed an “X” across her body. They were as long as her, nearly touching the ground. I hoped that none of the snot dripping down her upper lip had fallen onto the bread. I had paid the lady for what I thought was the can and the bread. But before she would hand over the bread, she asked for a second payment. Clever; Whatever.

I finally made it to Aoujeft. This is where the 200 mile section with no services would begin. I went into a store to get 5 liters of water and lots of food. A robed man walked in and said, “Hello, Brian Lucido”. WHat?? He laughed and said, “it is a miracle, no? I know your name.” He peered over the top of his sunglasses as if he were Magnum Pi in a white gown. Then he showed me his phone - with a picture of one of my fiche cards. “We are watching you,” he grinned.

Well, when there is only one road, there is nowhere to hide!

After Ajoueft, it was nothing. No cars, just me and the sand and the road. A tiny village with some huts appeared. Because I am so far behind on Strava, I’ll have to backfill this story later, but basically I was able to get a couple of liters of water from the “splooge” remaining in an irrigation hose that I uncapped. This is the desert, folks.

I’ll end here. This day was a lot of fun.