28.03.2021
Nouadhibou
Damn, that had been the most epic adventure ever! That had been the most amazing and exhilarating train ride ever! … I was still high on the experience when Sahar drove us from the train station to the city of Nouadhibou some 10 km to the south.

Nouadhibou – formerly in French Port-Étienne – was the 2nd largest city in Mauritania and served as a major commercial centre. The city was located on the sheltered east side of the 65-km peninsula called Ras Nouadhibou – Cap Blanc or Cabo Blanco – depending on who was asked. It had approx 120000 inhabitants expanding to over 140000 in the larger metropolitan area.



Idoumou had booked me into Hotel Al Jezira near the port. On the way we stopped and Ely bought some fruits for lunch … He gave me a big bag full … I guess he was not going to cook today … I was sure ready for a shower and a nap … and a bathroom … he did not look much better than me … Sahar however was happily driving along – obviously neither of them knew where that hotel exactly was … I did not know the name of the hotel at that point and I quite frankly did not pay much attention. But we circled around a couple of times and they had to ask a police man as well. But then … there it was!

Check-in was quick and I also hauled all my bags into my room without a problem. Ely said they would stay somewhere else and would come back at 15:00 to pick me up for a city tour. Fine with me … it gave me plenty of time to clean up and nap … My room was good – regular size with a window facing the coast and I could even see the bay in the distance.

The room looked a bit like something out of an 80’s spy thriller … pink carpet … dark wood … only the new flat screen TV might have not quite fit into the picture. But I had a big bed with clean sheets and found it interesting to see a praying carped placed in the night stand … but well … even some of the ships I worked on in Europe still had a bible hidden in the nightstand of each passenger cabin … no difference here …


Totally delighted I was to find out there was a bathtub in the bathroom! Yipee! The question was now … Where to start cleaning? … I mean … everything was black from iron ore dust … I did not dare to open the big backpack that Sahar had transported with the pickup … I was afraid I might mess it up as well … so I started with washing my hands … In the bathroom I stripped down completely and put all the iron ore filthy clothes – including underwear, I might add … the dirt was EVERYWHERE! – on a pile to decide what to do with it later.

In the bathtub – of course there was not enough hot water to fill it up – but there sure was enough to scrub all the filth off me … and it took a lot of scrubbing to be done … in the end that bathtub and the water in it were BLACK … It somewhat reminded me of my treks to Everest Base Camp back in the days when after 2 weeks in the Himalayas without a shower – or even a change – we would return to Kathmandu and splurge in a hotel room with a bathtub to soak all the Himalayan dust out … it had looked almost like that bathtub today …

Of course, the beautiful white towel was not white anymore after I had dried off after another shower … Some of that iron ore dust would sure stick to me until I got home … In fact, my glasses I soaked in soapy water when I came home because the black was in the frame. I got that out, but had the nose pads replaced at the optician because they would not get clean at all …
Feeling somewhat fresh now, I got to cleaning the cameras and mobile phones with wet wipes, cotton swaps and toilet paper … damn … a tedious task … the black dust had creped into every little crack and corner … I even had to wash my watches under running water – good thing they were waterproof … and they would still leave black staines on my armes weeks after ….
That done I sorted and posted some photos from my unbelievable iron ore train adventure, had some salami, baguette and fruits for lunch and then finally took a nap for an hour or so. Ely had said they would pick me up at 15:00, so being a good German I went to the front porch to wait … they did not come … after 30 min I went to reception, ordered more towels to replace the used ones and got the WIFI password … back in the room I sighted more photos and just hung out until they finally send me a message and made it around 16:00 … Ely had overslept … he should be forgiven …

We drove down the peninsula called Ras Nouadhibou – Cap Blanc or Cabo Blanco – of which the western side had the abandoned Moroccan colonial-era settlement of La Güera. Nouadhibou was consequently located merely a couple of kilometers from the border between Mauritania and Western Sahara – a disputed territory on the northwest coast and in the Maghreb region of North and West Africa. About 20% of the territory was controlled by the self-proclaimed Sahrawi Arab Democratic Republic, while the remaining 80% of the territory was occupied and administered by neighboring Morocco. It was one of the most sparsely populated territories in the world, mainly consisting of desert flatlands.

The city of Nouadhibou consisted of 4 major areas – the city centre including the airport, Numerowatt to the north, the main residential area Cansado to the south and a dormitory town for the workers of the harbour facilities which was located a few kilometers south of the city, near the tip of the Ras Nouadhibou peninsula at Port Minéralier. Near the harbour was the terminus of Mauritania’s only railway line, which mainly brought iron ore from the mining areas near Fdérik and Zouérat. Processing iron ore formed the largest industry in Nouadhibou, although the overall major economic activity was fishing.

Nouadhibou had always been an important transit point for international transport. In the beginning of the 20th century, it was a stopover for the Latécoère air-transport network for mail and passengers for western Africa and overseas colonies like Martinique. Antoine de Saint-Exupery spent much time there as pilot and writer. The bay that lay between the peninsula and the Mauritanian mainland coast was called Dakhlet Nouadhibou – in colonial times Baie du Lévrier.

I think Ely and Sahar wanted to show me the famous ship graveyard of Nouadhibou. Only we did not find the right track to get close … everywhere was closed or blocked or fenced off. So we went to the coast anyway. It was really windy and I already regretted not taking a sweater with me … that wind was so cold. But the sweater was still all black and filthy … I only had brought one … I was not going to wash anything before getting home … That thought reminded me … now I unfortunately was already more or less on my way home already …


Nouadhibou was originally named Port-Étienne by French merchants who settled here shortly before WW I. They valued the east-facing side of the peninsula as its calm waters offered protection to ships from the harsh waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Initially the local economy was based on fishing and trade, but the location on the peninsula proved ideal for shipping trade as well, but soon the city also began to process and distribute the iron ore mined deep in Mauritanian desert.


Like most frontier towns, lawlessness and money drove the early politics. In Nouadhibou, enterprising businessmen could get anything done … if they had the money. Eventually shipping merchants discovered the city was willing to overlook the ecological hazards of dumping old vessels and forfeit the proper dismantling process – for a fee. The first ship to be abandoned in the bay was a French Navy cruiser – the Chasseloup-Laubat in the 1920s.

As time passed the city’s financial hardships worsened and the shipping community caught on. By the 1980s, the frequency with which abandoned ships were appearing in Nouadhibou’s bay increased dramatically. Financial hardships led to the authorities turning a blind eye to ship owners who offered bribes to dump used vessels in the harbor. After nearly 3 decades of this practice, Nouadhibou’s coastline was now a unique landscape dotted with over 300 rusting hulks of rotting ships … ships that were cheaper to illegally abandon in the harbor than to be correctly dismantled …


While there have been numerous proposals to help Mauritania clean up the ships, none have been fully realized. And while there were callings to clean up the wrecks, there were many positive side effects from this mass abandonment. The collection of ships for example created artificial reefs for fish and other wildlife – stimulating a local fishing industry that had previously been decimated from years of over-fishing in the area.



The metal hulls had been breeding grounds for fish, replenishing the local supply. Birds had settled on the largely-unmolested offshore barges and in some cases complete ecosystems had taken over the wrecks. The graveyard was a large source of income for many inhabitants of Nouadhibou as well – local companies paid to salvage anything of value from the vessels. Mechanics were hired to remove parts of engines and electricians to retrieve repairable electronic equipment. Plumbers were employed to recover valuable metal piping. Security guards were paid to guard the salvage vessels from theft or vandalism … or curious tourists like me …



So unfortunately, I did not see any of the famous shipwrecks, but I contended myself with watching the fishing vessels return to port and enjoyed the view over the bay in general. There were plenty of different seagulls around to watch. I just enjoyed the view and the freedom of the windy ocean …


We then went on a drive around the city center. Nouadhibou consisted almost entirely of simple, low-rise houses and there was no real town center to be seen. The main axis was the Avenue Median, around which most life seemed to take place. There were no particular sights, though. The colourful market streets were great to see in the late afternoon light, however.


At the end of the 19th century Spanish, French and British trading companies began to set up settlements on uninhabited western Saharan coasts in order to do business with the nomadic Sahrawi and Bidhan people. According to the treaties that a Spanish delegation concluded with the Emir of Adrar, the Spanish ambassador was able to declare the area between La Gouira and Cape Bojador in the north a protectorate in 1884. By this time, Spaniards had founded the 3 settlements of La Gouira, Villa Cisneros – modern-day Ad-Dakhla and Villa Bens – modern-day Tarfaya on Morocco’s southern border. Only after 1900 did the French, who had already taken control of Senegal around the mid-19th century, began to advance into Mauritania. This happened first peacefully, then from 1905 increasingly militarily. Port-Étienne was founded in 1906 as a fishing port in economic competition with La Gouira and named in honor of the French Colonial Minister Eugène Étienne. In addition to Port-Étienne, Fort Gouraud – today F’dérik – and Fort Trinquet – today Bir Moghrein – were other French towns founded directly on the border with neighboring Spanish territory.


Sahrawis engaged in only modest self-fishing without boats in the shallows until the 19th century, but they had long been in contact with fishermen from the Canary Islands – just 1300 km off the coast to the north – from whom they bartered fish and allowed them to maintain their boats and mend their nets on land. That was why Sahrawis were also willing to be employed as fishermen and in fish processing at the Spanish outposts and – after the founding of Port Étienne – there as well. Fishing in Port Étienne was industrialized in 1921.


By the mid-1920s, the Spanish coastal settlements were still quite small and the Spaniards had not penetrated inland by then either. The French, on the other hand, had established a number of military and administrative stations within Mauritania and Port Étienne already clearly outstripped La Gouira in terms of size and economic output. In 1925, the French set up airfields on the southern border of Morocco and Port-Étienne as bases on the Toulouse – Dakar mail route – as described by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry in his award-winning memoir – Terres des Hommes – Wind, Sand and Stars – in 1939.

At the time of independence in 1960, the population of all Mauritanian cities was in the 4-digit range – for Nouadhibou it was about 6500. Since then it grew to a population of over 120000 – making it the 2nd largest city in Mauritania. Many residents were immigrants from Senegal, Guinea or other West African countries.

Driving out north we were passing the now deserted Gare des Voyageurs. There was only one passenger departure and one arrival each day here … the other iron ore trains just passed here. So the rest of the day this place was rather deserted.

We also passed a couple of temporary camel herder camps on the way. They had probably driven their animals to the city to sell them. In Mauritania, the dromedary breeding was the most widespread pastoral activity, and it was considered as the first source of animal protein. Dromedary meat, with its good carcass yield and the dietary quality of its meat, was appreciated and consumed on a large scale in Mauritania as well as in West Africa and Middle East countries. Mauritania was classified among the countries where the number of dromedaries was growing rapidly and their meat consumption had increased recently. Thus, dromedary breeding was the most widespread pastoral activity in the country, with a number of herds which were estimated as the most important of the countries of North, West and Central Africa and as the third at the global level.


My guys took me to another viewpoint at the north of the bay. It was shortly before sunset now – but we were facing north-east – and the cold wind was strong … I so much regretted no to have taken my jacket … I only got out of the car for a quick couple of photos and then was back in … the last thing I needed was catching a cold 2 days before flying home … in those uncertain times this would not be a good idea …


Back in the city center Ely and Sahar searched for a restaurant to have dinner. I think they did not want to take me to the most local of local places, so we ended up at Café Royal, a local kebab fast food joint. I indeed was hungry now and chose the Plat Kebab – in Germany we would have called it Döner Teller – a plate full of meat, salad, flatbread, rice, vegetables, onions, french fries … It was good! The Hawaii – the ultimate Moroccan soda, a mixture of coconut and passion fruit, I knew already from a stopover at Casablanca airport in 2018 – filled the spot for a sugary drink perfectly.

After dinner Ely’s friend Ali came to meet him and they were ready for a night out or such. They did bring me back to the hotel first and I did sleep early. It had been an eventful couple of days …
29.03.2021
ca. 470 km Nouadhibou to Tiouilit/Trarza
I slept well all night without waking up once. But I did wake up as early as usual. Ely had set a 08:30 departure once more and I still had to pack. I put every single piece of clothes from the train ride in one of the big blue garbage bags I had brought and stuffed it on the far bottom of my backpack so it would not spoil the rest of my stuff.
08:00 I went for breakfast. They had prepared trays with fresh orange juice, baguette, croissant, egg, yoghurt and milk coffee. I also took a Mango from yesterday’s fruit stash. It was good. I was just munching away, when Ely turned up to hurry me on.

On time at 08:30 we were on the road again. On our way out of town we stopped for Ely to run errands – they bought camel meat again and breakfast for Ely – because he had overslept after the night out with his friend – Sahar checked the air pressure of the tires. Driving on sand can benefit from additional traction by deflating the tires somewhat – but we were now heading down the asphalt road and he had to top up once more.

Then we drove out of town north around the bay. The Gare des Voyageures was still deserted this morning … even though it was roughly the same time we arrived yesterday morning here. But that train did not have a fixed schedule … so who knew when it was coming today …

Only a few kilometers up the road I got lucky to see THE TRAIN one last time! I know, I know! It is hard to understand how a train can exert such a fascination … Zee crazy German and her trains … and I have not even told you yet of our various steam train adventures in Germany during the last year after the world had slowly started to open up again and international travel had been still impossible …

The iron ore train line was here paralleling the N2 highway for some 70 km and just as we passed a spot where the tracks were closest to the road a train appeared in the distance. Oh yeah, was excited! Once last look! Ely and Sahar indulged me by stopping to enjoy the moment! Damn, it was awesome to see the monster up close once more!



There were – according to local hear-say – up to 4 trains in either direction depending on demand. But only one train in either direction would have the passenger car and train hoppers allowed on the iron ore. This train today had neither. I did not spot any people on the iron ore and there was also no service car at the end.
After some 70 km the road left the train tracks which continued east and turned south sharply – we passed there around 10:30 this morning. The N2 was traditionally the most important road in Mauritania connecting Marocco and Western Sahara with Nouakchott via Nouadhibou and on to neighboring Senegal to the south. Several police and gendarmerie check points were scattered in seemingly regular intervals … Ely still had a bunch of the fiches with my details to hand over. At one point we were even stopped by customs officials – probably due to the proximity of the – still closed – northern border.



The part of the road from Nouakchott to Nouadhibou was made between 2003 and 2005 – in fact a completely new road connection through the desert had been built. It was very straight at times … and rather boring … Sahar was stepping on the gas and we basically flew along now. Numerous windmills lined the road … I suppose there was plenty wind to produce energy … I would have thought to see more solar energy parks, though.


Still, I was not ready for my regular nap … I had another geocache in sight. There was one secret box hidden right next to the highway some 60 km after leaving the train tracks. I asked if we could make a quick stop to look for it – by now Ely and Sahar were used to my strange requests to look for secret boxes … There was a spoiler photo in the listing and with that and the GPS app I did find the right spot … but no hidden box … Nobody had been here in a year … but it was supposed to be hidden under the rocks … maybe I did not dig deep enough, though … I took a photolog …



There was relatively much traffic on the road. A lot of trucks and heavily laden minibuses, frequent pickup trucks, but very few private cars. This highway was part of the Cairo-Dakar Highway in the Trans-African Highway network passing through Mauritania – linking the capital Nouakchott to Rabat, Tangiers, Algiers and Tripoli. Since 2005, the 680 km section between the capital Nouakchott and the port of Nouadhibou was open and finally completely paved by 2018. Previously, there had been only one bad track between the country’s 2 largest cities Nouadhibou and Nouakchott – partly just a set of tracks in the sand. It was customary back then to drive on the beach at low tide, because higher driving speeds were possible here. But at high tide, traffic had to use the poorly maintained sand tracks.



The wind was really strong and blew the sand across the highway constantly. There were several places where clusters of caramel coloured crescent dunes had crept over the tarmac and heavy machinery was in use to clear the road. Supposedly that was a never ending task …



Another 90 km on we reached the desert settlement of Chami – a new town created in 2012 in the desert northwest of the country due to the development of artisanal gold mining in the Sahara and the Sahel which had spread to Mauritania and eventually brought on a gold rush in the hinterland of Chami in 2016. We drove right through the desert settlement and stopped around 12:30 at a restaurant for lunch. Ely wanted to have this Thieboudienne – The Rice of Fish – dubbed as the national dish of Senegal that was also consumed in Mauritania, but they did not have it until after 14:00. So it was decided to have our afternoon siesta before lunch today …



Fine with me … I went for a walk instead! It was in fact the hottest part of the day, but whatever. I wandered along the wide sand blown main road and then through some market streets. Chami had gradually emerged from the ground – or rather from the sand – from March 2012 after a ceremony of the laying of the first stone carried out by the Mauritanian president. A year later, Chami was established as a commune and as the chief town of the department of Chami which back then had approx 2600 inhabitants – including 51 in the chief town (46 men and 5 women), which made it the youngest and least populated commune in Mauritania.



The implementation of the project began with the construction of a residential district which consisted of 50 buildings, administrative premises for the gendarmerie brigade, the police and the technical services of agriculture, military barracks and artillery, a residence for the prefect, a medical centre, a primary school and a 1000-seat mosque inaugurated in March 2015. In addition to the road network and the imposing line of 492 solar streetlights, a water supply network had been built and electricity was supplied by a hybrid diesel and wind power plant with 19 wind turbines as well as by a solar power plant. In short, built in record time and with significant financial resources for the sub-region, Chami combined all the traditional functions of state supervision of small African towns – military and territorial supervision and basic services.



Not many people were around at this time of the day. But flocks of goats and sheep were roaming the plastic strewn verges. Most of them were in search of shadow to escape the scorching midday sun. Beneath cars and pickup trucks seemed to be a favourite hang out place for many of them.



The town used to be first of all an almost ghost town, where networks and services precede the inhabitants, before the progressive supervision of gold mining and the centralization of ore processing gave consistency and energy to this urban organism that eventually became a mushroom town. However, the town was nevertheless subject to considerable uncertainty, which was due to the future of gold mining and the choices that would be made by the government in terms of regulating the activity, particularly in reducing the environmental impact of this mining town located at the gateway to the country’s main protected area, the Banc d’Arguin National Park. The Ranger station for the park had been based here since 2015. The coast was only roughly 30 km to the West from here … Fringing the Atlantic coast, the park comprised sand dunes, coastal swamps, small islands and shallow coastal waters. It was a major breeding site for migratory shorebirds from northern Europe, Siberia and Greenland. The region’s mild climate and absence of human disturbance makes the park one of the most important sites in the world for these species. The nesting bird population is also noted for its great numbers and diversity – making it the largest colonies of water birds in West Africa. The 12000 km² National Park was in 1978 and it was inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1989. We were only passing the park at its very periphery, though.



Waste disposal had yet to be embraced in Mauritania where until recently, the majority of the population lived a nomadic way of life. As there was no provision for getting the rubbish from people’s homes to a designated dump, poor communities had a real problem with waste management. As a result, the streets of most settlements were choked with plastic litter and unofficial dumping sites have sprung up all over the place. Mauritanians were still nomads. They lived life like they were still in a tent – leaving their rubbish behind them. They kept their houses clean, but they thought nothing of the rubbish outside their door … It was mostly plastic bottles that littered the sandy streets here … Mauritania had banned the use of plastic bags to protect the environment and the lives of land and sea animals in 2013 … not the plastic bottles, though. But I should not complain … I had been drinking water from single use plastic bottles during the entire tour and had not cared what happened to the empty bottles … the only thing I knew, we did not leave anything behind in the desert … Sahar disposed of them somewhere … hopefully properly …



Chami’s popultion had more than quadrupled to over 13000 in recent years. The town grew like mushrooms within the Mauritanian desert pushed by the gold rush. It was a rather wide spread settlement and I sure not found a particular town center … or maybe I was in the town center … I did wander about the market area. There were really not many people around – it was the hottest part of the day and traditionally it was the time for relaxing in the shade …




The market was interesting in any case. I carried the big camera openly and did take photos … Of course, I heard a lot of the familiar – No No No photo! – but I also met very friendly people talking to me or not minding a photo of them or their market stall, even waving me closer for the photo. I was always captivated by the butcher stalls … a friend of mine would comment on seeing the photos of fresh meat hanging openly in the sandy desert wind – Oh yeah, the meat comes already breaded!



The meat was just hanging there … no fridge … nothing … at butcher stalls or in front of local restaurants … at some places the animals were tethered right in front of the shop … I guess, it was as fresh as it gets …



A mind that is stretched by a new experience
can never go back to its old dimensions.
Oliver Wendell Holmes



I looped back to the restaurant via more market stalls and through some residential area. Ely had already missed me … the tourist wandering alone around … Imoudou had probably told him to watch me not getting lost … I had only been gone a good hour, though … but now I was back and it was still too early for lunch … The others were lounging on the cushions in the carpeted area of the restaurant, but I would have to take my shoes off for that and quite frankly I could not be bothered … so instead I sat in the restaurant at a table sorting photos. There was also spotty mobile reception and internet here – that was something. Several times we got served more tea …



Finally around 14:30 the food was ready. We got one big plate of Thiéboudiène prepared with fish, rice, carrots, cabbage and tomato sauce cooked in one pot. Traditionally it was eaten in a large communal dish with the hand – happy I was in seeing they gave us spoons! It was also the symbol of hospitality – family, visiting friends and guests gather around a single dish called a bolus from which everyone ate using a spoon or a piece of bread. Sahar had already eaten somewhere else – him being a desert man, I was not surprised – but a friend of Ely who was passing through town as well joined us – it was sure a lot of food! And it was good!

By 15:00 we were ready to go, but we did not leave town before visiting the Grillage – the economic heart of the city – now the state-organized gold ore processing center. Mauritania’s Artisanal and Small-scale Gold Mining – ASGM – sector was unique. It was only in early 2016 when artisanal miners discovered the first shallow gold deposits here in Inchiri Province, leading to a gold rush around Chami. Today, it was estimated that up to 50000 people nationwide were directly involved in the sector which provided indirect unemployment for another 150000 people – yielding a livelihood for 5% of Mauritania’s small population. The sector provided lucrative employment opportunities for scores of unemployed youth and had transformed the frontier settlement of Chami into a vibrant town where hairdressers, caterers and entrepreneurs had set up shop. This industry was completely informal and lacked access to training, equipment, finance and supply chain transparency. Consequently, miners relied on inefficient processing methods, emitting large quantities of mercury, affecting human health and the environment. Most of the workers in the pits were from an economically-precarious category of the population or foreigners from neighbouring countries.

Beyond environmental, health and control requirements, the needs for water, electricity and various services justified concentrating processing activities at the Grillage. Its implementation was concomitant with the State’s effort to organize national gold panning – with the allocation of individual extraction rights parallel with the pursuit of the allocation of industrial exploration and exploitation licenses. The Office of the Ministry of Mines present at the Grillage ensured the annual taxation – up to € 480 per small crushing machine and € 1900 for large mills, € 240 per chemical treatment unit and per metal detector device, € 12 for a gold panner card. The perimeter of the Grillage was divided into large sectors, those subdivided into rectangular blocks – lots of approx 10 x 15 m. In 2018, the site had approx 800 allocated lots with nearly a thousand machines of different sizes and types installed – the most represented large machines being mercury mills for grinding and amalgamation.
Those who owned machines transformed the ore brought to them by the gold diggeres, whatever its origin. Operators were awarded one or more lots depending on their size. For example, a small Sudanese company had 14 mercury mills, 2 low buildings made of planks and tin roofs, one of which was occupied by an office and a bedroom for the boss, the other by a kitchen and a rest area, forming very spartan living conditions for non-native workers.



Around Chami the poor population from the countryside had become a cheap labor force for gold diggers. But alas the mercury that was used in the open and without precaution to collect the precious material was loaded with toxicity and could be the source of serious health problems. Artisanal and small-scale mining was characterized by a lack of capital, mechanization or technology, relying on manual labour and very basic processing techniques. Artisanal mining was often therefore carried out without a mining license or permit.
In the Mauritanian context, artisanal mining was still at an early stage of development. Little or no mechanized equipment was used, explosives were not used and significant quantities of gold were still being recovered at surface, using metal detectors to find gold nuggets and very basic processing methods to extract gold from ore. Usually, the ore was dug from relatively shallow open pits to depths of around 20 m using hand tools only. Gold ore was packed in bags and brought here to the Grillage where it was crushed to less than 2 mm particle size, then passed through simple sluice boxes, followed by panning to produce a gravity gold concentrate.


Recovery rates of gold from the ore in the province using those methods were very low. Artisanal miners tended to target mineralization which graded at least 15g Au/t and may recover less than 50% of the contained gold from the ore – in contrast to that, a industrial sector miner may mine ore grading less than 1g Au/t in very large volumes – like millions of tons per year – recovering in excess of 90% of the contained gold. For ore processing, small-scale mechanical crushers were currently used at Chami. Those wet pan mills were popular gold and silver ore grinding machines in African and South American countries, because of the low investment, easy use and maintenance and quick cost recovery. The most common way was to put mercury in the wet pan mill and mix the gold particle with the mercury, which was called Amalgamation. Then the mixture of gold and mercury can be put into crucibles for high temperature heating. During this process, the mercury was evaporated and pure gold was left in the crucible.


There was a high risk of negative environmental effects in the artisanal mining area around Chami since it was located close to Parc National du Banc d’Arguin, which was a UNESCO world heritage site inhabited by the Imraguen cultural minority group practicing traditional sea fishing techniques. Should artisanal mining activities spread to the national park area the related environmental destruction and contamination would severely threaten the heritage site. Environmental contamination from mercury could reach the rich fish grounds off the Mauritanian coast, entering the food chain through bioaccumulation in fish.

We watched the processing for a while – it was rather interesting and fascinating … Oscar Wilde said – “I didn’t say I liked it. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.” … Then we visited a local dealer who proudly showed us a gold nugget he had acquired recently. It was tiny, but he put it on the gold scale and it was all of 0.26 g! That reminded me of my tour hitchhiking through Canada and Alaska in 1994, when I visited a friend in British Columbia. We went to the local Miners’ Dance and they had a lottery on the entrance tickets … I did not win anything, but since I was somewhat of a novelty there – the first German backpacker ever to attend it – they gifted me a gold nugget! I still treasure that one!



After this interesting visit, we turned back onto the highway south … Sahar drove very fast on the very straight asphalted road through the desert … and I … napped most of the time … as usual those roads had a soporific impact on me … There was not much to see other than wide open, sandy spaces … the occasional tented camp … a sign-posted turn-off very now and then …



Some 80 km south of Chami we turned off onto a non-described side road west towards the coast. It was asphalt most of the way, but the desert was eating it up rapidly. Sahar had to navigate several sections which had been covered in deep in sand. Of course, that was no problem for him … The wind was blowing the sand strong across the pavement … 25 km along, the road turned south again and followed the coast for another 35 km. Sahar was still driving fast … we were on a mission …



By late afternoon we reached the outskirts of Nouâmghâr – El Mamghar – a coastal village and rural commune at the southern end of the Banc d’Arguin National Park. Fringing the Atlantic coast, the park comprised sand dunes, coastal swamps, small islands and shallow coastal waters as well as the coastline’s only significant promontory – 7m-high Cape Timiris. From this cape to the marshy area around the mouth of the Senegal River to the very south of the country, the coast was regular and marked only by an occasional high dune. The village of Nouâmghâr was 150 km north north-east of the capital Nouakchott and was located at the entrance to Cape Timiris. It was a traditional and active fishing port and with some 4500 inhabitants had undergone changes since the Banc d’Arguin National Park was declared a World Heritage Site in 1989 as it was now one of the access points to the park. We did not see much of it, as we were in a hurry.



A soon was we reached the outskirts of the villag, the car was surrounded by a crowd of laughing children knocking on our windows offering fish for sale. I was not sure what kind of fish they had, but it did look good, fresh and plentiful. Of course, Ely started bargaining for some and Sahar selected the best ones. He stuffed them into an empty water bottle he had found earlier somewhere and which he quickly rinsed with some water from our supply.



Now the adventure started! We would drive the rest of the day towards Nouakchott along the beach! Before the new highway was built, there was only a sandy track through the desert and many overlanders would divert to driving along the beach. Sahar’s eyes were already gleaming … the beach was only drivable at low tide on the hard, wet sand … and the tide was only low enough for 3 hrs … but we had made it in time to drive the last 100 km along the beach!



The waves rushed along on our right as we sped south, the lowering sun glittered on the sea … it was very windy … the Sahara with golden sand dunes to our left … almost 100 km over lonely, white sand beach … Sahar was stepping on the gas like never before … we were flying along! It was awesome!
Finest white sand beach … endlessly long … nobody far and wide … just sand and the ocean … hardly any rubbish here … it had been a while since I had seen so much pristine beach … the sky was azure blue competing with the Atlantic ocean … and while this part of the beach was well outside the national park, it was the most direct route from Nouakchott to the park.
There were plenty of birds around. Flocks of Great White Pelican – Pelecanus Onocrotalus – also known as the Eastern White Pelican or Rosa Pelican – loitered by the water line and hurriedly flew off when we approached. It breeds from southeastern Europe through Asia and Africa, in swamps and shallow lakes – here they also nested on inselbergs and flat inshore islands off of Banc d’Arguin National Park. The Great White Pelican was a huge bird measuring 140-180 cm in length with a 28-47 cm enormous pink and yellow bill, a dull pale-yellow gular pouch and a wingspan of 225-360 cm. It was highly sociable and often formed large flocks. Being well adapted for aquatic life, the short strong legs and webbed feet propelled it in water and aided a rather awkward takeoff from the water surface. In flight, it was an elegant soaring bird, with the head held close to and aligned with the body. Its flight consisted of a few slow wing beats followed by a glide.



The ride on the beach was beautiful … awesome … wonderful … spectacular … amazing … yet another highlight of this tour … the beach seemed endless … the wind was blowing strong off the ocean … the light was incredible this late in the afternoon …



There are only two ways to live your life.
One is as though nothing is a miracle.
The other is as though everything is a miracle.
Albert Einstein


We even spotted a Jackal on the beach! Sahar was so fast speeding past, I almost missed it. But he did me the favour to stop and circled around to take some photos and that Jackal was not the least bothered by us … he did look at us warily, though … The Side-Striped Jackal – Lupulella Adusta – was native to sub-Saharan-Africa and of medium size – the shoulder height could range from 35-50 cm. Its pelt was coloured buff-grey glowing brownish in the late afternoon sun – the back darker than the underside, indistinct white stripes were present on the flanks.



The Side-Striped Jackal tended to be less carnivorous than other jackal species and was a highly adaptable omnivore whose dietary preferences changed in accordance to seasonal and local variation. It tended to forage solitarily feeding largely on invertebrates during the wet season and small mammals in the dry months. It frequently scavenged from campsites and the kills of larger predators.


The desert is so huge,
and the horizon so distant,
that they make a person feel small,
and as if he should remain silent.
Paulo Coelho


We encountered numerous Terns as well. The area of and around the park was one of the most important wintering grounds for them. There were Gull-Billed Tern – Gelochelidon Nilotica, Caspian Tern – Hydroprogne Caspian, Royal Tern – Sterna Maxima – and Common Tern – Sterna Hirundo. Not that I could tell them apart, though.



In every outthrust headland,
in every curving beach,
in every grain of sand,
there is the story of the earth.
Rachel Carson



We did pass a couple of fishing villages on the way. Most boats were in for the day already and were lazily bopping in the surf. Sunset was not far off … the last boats arrived … the tide was coming in as well.



It was prayer time for Ely and Sahar. That gave me time to have a look around the boats on the beach. The Mauritanian fishing fleet had around 7000 of the traditional boats called pirogues, which were up to 20 m long. Most of them would stay inside the 20-mile zone in which the government now only allows domestic fishermen to catch.



These wooden pirogues were built by artisans of the Fula and Wolof ethnicity – originally from Senegal but well-established within this segment of Mauritanian economy. A small 3-m long pirogue took about a week to build, whereas a 20-m long pirogue took about a month. It was difficult to estimate their durability, as this depended largely on how often a pirogue was used, how well it was maintained and how good it was initially built – but 15 years seemed to be the longest one could hope for. Each part of the vessel had a unique, custom-made cut and was painted in bright colors. Drawings representing animals, people, traditional patterns or modern symbols adorned the individual boats as well.



Crabs were everywhereon the beach! Hundreds of crabs darted across the sand … crawling in their holes … running in the waves … scurrying about … It almost looked like a carpet was working its way across the sand at some point … They were too fast to even take a good photo of them … The Atlantic Ghost Crab – Ocypode Quadrata – was a semiterrestrial, sand colored shore crab with white claws. Like a ghost, they could change colors to better blend in with their surroundings. Like ghosts, they could quickly disappear due to their ability to run up to 15 km per hour. Ghost crabs had a carapace – or shell – that could grow up to 5 cm. They had eyes on the top of stalks that could see 360° around them. These small crabs built deep burrows in intertidal zones.



Praying duty done, we were heading down the beach again. The guys were looking for a suitable campsite for tonight … we had to do this before the tide was too high and before the sun set … the village youth waved us past as they had much fun playing soccer on the beach …


We still had to go further down the beach, Ely said. But the tide was coming in quickly. At one point we even got sort of stuck in wet sand and when Sahar tried to get us out all the mud was flying in my open window … oh well … but he managed to get the car free and we continued.



Is freedom anything else than the right to live as we wish?
Nothing else.
Epictetus – Greek philosopher (50 -135 AD)



At some point we really could not go any further … still Ely had not approved of a suitable camping spot up behind the dunes … then we met some people – half a dozen young men pulled a rope to some net that was stuck in the beach sand … or so it looked. Ely asked for directions and all of them pointed back to the last village … better go back the water was coming here … Sahar was helpful and tied their rope to the car trying to pull whatever they tried to get out … it did not work … he dug the car in the sand instead … but he got out and we waved them farewell … heading back some 5 km to the village …



There’s nothing more beautiful
than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline,
no matter how many times it’s sent away.
Sarah Kay



It was a quick ride back … it seemed Sahar was really committed to get there before the tide was too high and … before it got to dark to make camp. Ely was looking a bit nervous … but soon the beautifully brightly painted pirogues already appeared at the horizon again. The sun was getting very low already, but we made it by 18:45 … well before dark … or sunset …



It turned out, Ely was a bit anxious about where we would sleep tonight … Since we had all our camp on the pickup, a place in the dunes would have been perfect. But in the village … there was no space … and it was too late to keep looking further … He talked with people we met … and they pointed … and discussed … of course, there was no guesthouse, either …



There was much plastic garbage everywhere between huts made of wood, sticks, lengths of fabric and tarps … one of those huts – a blue-painted wooden one – seemed to be the village minimarket. The shopkeeper was a friendly man who soon gestured Ely to a tarped hut close to the beach … Ely looked at me and apologetically pointed to the hut saying – Nous allons rester là! C’est bon? … We are going to stay there! OK? … I just shrugged – Mais oui! Pourquoi pas? … Of course! Why not? … I had just spent 18 hrs on top of a pile of iron ore dust crossing the Sahara on a cargo train … there was nothing that could shock me now! Homestay at a fishing village … just another great part of this voyage!



Stop worrying about the potholes in the road
and enjoy the journey.
Babs Hoffman – 1951/52 infielder
at the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League



While Ely and Sahar set up camp … well, there was not much to set up other than the mats and the kitchen … after they had cleaned out the hut. But Ely got straight to cooking … I went for a walk along the beach. Sunset was close and the colourful boats were mostely hauled up to the dry part. The tide was now coming in quickly.



And the sun was going down as quickly. Sahar came to the beach as well and posed for photos … I had to take them with his phone … it turned into a proper photo session … but of course I took some with my camera as well … Sunset was amazing … The beach and our camp were directly facing west. I had to put my toes in the Atlantic as well … weel, my shoes rather …



… your favourite companion …
your dirty hiking boots,
the ones with dirt from many kilometers and many peaks …
the ones you never clean,
because you can be standing at the toe of a red hot molten lava flow in Iceland
and look down and see dirt from Uhuru Peak on Kilimanjaro.
Brings a smile to your face and lifts your spirits
remembering those journeys
and that you are adding new mud and dirt for the next journey.
They are an old traveling companion …
old, weathered and well traveled …
just like the person standing in them.
unknown

Of course I had to have a closer look at the surroundings of tonight’s accommodation. There were not many people at this end of the village. I suppose after a good day’s work they all were about to prepare for the night after sunset. The center of the village and the mosque were located further down the beach to the north.

No place is ever as bad as they tell you it’s going to be.
Chuck Thompson
Once the sun was down, dinner was being prepared. Ely had set up the kitchen inside the tent and Sahar manned the charcoal grill outside – the fish they had bought earlier, from the children before we had hit the beach track, was put on it. I had not figured out what fish it was … but was that important at all? Ely had even cooked a sauce with it … he was somewhat disappointed that I did not eat it … but the fish … as charcoaled as it looked … was very good … I did not need any sauce with it … and I had a second fish … There was bread as well … I skipped that, too …



Of course, we had tea as well … Had you thought we skipped the tea? … Sure not! … Sahar went all in with his tea making after dinner while they chatted to some locals who came by for a chat and look-see … It was probably not very common that foreigners came for a homestay in the village …


After tea it was an early night … I had chosen – probably gotten assigned – the mat right next to the tent “door” … it was the first time I had to share the tent with Ely and Sahar … and Sahar was not sleeping outside … I asked Ely when the fishermen would go out the next morning so I would not miss it … He said around 06:00 …. but he would not get up himself … Pas de problem, mon ami! … No problem! I can get up and watch all by myself! … Bonne nuit!
30.03.2021
Sunrise in the Fishing Village
The wind had been fresh all night and a breeze was blowing in through the flapping entrance. But I had not been cold … my sleeping bag was good and it had not been as strong as on the iron ore train. I has slept very well with the ocean sounds in the distance and not woken up once.
I woke up at 06:00 and peeked through the door … it was still pitch black dark … and I could see no activity whatsoever out there … Contemplating, I decided to snooze for a bit longer. But by 06:30 I peeled out of the sleeping bag, put the jacket on and grabbed the cameras … The others were still snoring under their blankets.

The beach was totally deserted … not a single person around … just the right time to duck behind one of the boats to moon the full moon … there were absolutely no facilities anywhere around … I had not seen any women in the village and I had only seen the men with their water bottles or pot in hand disappear behind boats or huts either … I had choses just the right time for my morning business! No sooner than I had pulled up my pants again, the beach was teaming with fishermen readying the boats … by 06:45 … as if a button had be pushed … they had appeared on the beach in their heavy oil skins and rubber boots … laden with anchors, nets, plastic canisters … within minutes the first boats were rolled on tree trunks down the beach into the water …


I was totally fascinated by the amount of more or less silent activity along the beach … Maybe the wind and ocean doused the shouts and conversations, though … I got the big camera out and only for a moment pondered about getting the tripod from the tent … it was still too dark for holding the long lens … but I did not want to draw more attention to me than I had already …


Well, even with my dark jacket and baggy trousers I stuck out light a beacon standing in the middle of the beach with a camera … but then again, I did not want to miss a minute by going back to fetch the tripod … I also did not want to get too close and into anybodies face … I think they just tolerated me being there, because maybe word had gotten around that a crazy foreigner had stayed in one of their huts last night and had not especially come to harass them with a camera …


Fishing was very important to the Mauritanian economy. It accounted for 10% of GDP and between 35% and 50% of Mauritanian exports. It also provided 29% of the income for the national budget. Fishing generated approx 45000 direct and indirect jobs – accounting for 36% of all employment.



There were 2 separate segments to the Mauritanian fishing fleet – the industrial fleet and the small-scale fleet. It was estimated that 31% of jobs were generated by small-scale fishing and 12% by industrial fishing. Despite its importance to the Mauritanian economy, the fisheries sector was relatively undeveloped. This was due to the lack of a maritime tradition and the remoteness of Nouadhibou, which used to be the only landing point for the industrial fleet.



Although 90% of the catch was made by the industrial segment, its impact on job creation and added value was limited. The fish processing industry was relatively undeveloped and underused. Some facilities were obsolete and suffered from hygiene problems. Now Mauritania in fact only had 2 fishing ports – Nouakchott and Nouadhibou. The port of Nouadhibou had the best infrastructure and dealt with most of the fishing activity. All catches of the industrial fleet were sold there – together with 20% of the catches of the inshore and small-scale fleets.



Artisanal boats – most of them wooden pirogues – had few technical facilities, which impacted adversely on the quality of the fish landed. For this reason, only a small percentage of the fish landed was suitable for human consumption. In addition, large quantities were processed into fishmeal and fish oil. The sector was also dominated by illegal, unregulated and unregistered fishing activities. In contrast, efficient artisanal fishing offered the potential to enhance food security in the country and to secure incomes, without increasing pressure on fish stocks.



Not all of the boats were moved down the beach on tree trunks, though. Some were rolled … mostly the seemingly newer fiberglass boats. They emptied everything out and then just rolled the boat to the waterline … That technique needed quite a bit of manpower … and the boat got loaded up once it was afloat only …


Smaller boats were even pushed sideways across the sand … sort of rotating them left to right to left … that looked even more strenuous then rolling them … I stood mesmerized watching the procedure and automatically pushed the video button on the camera …


The colourful wooden boats were however all pushed on tree trunks. I would have thought after almost an hour of busy activity on the beach all boats would be in the water and out fishing for the day by now … but a look along the shore revealed that there were still countless boats hauled up on dry land and as many were boredly bobbing in the Atlantic swell off the beach …



The world is endlessly fascinating
to those who take the time to look.
Marty Rubin



At one point I remembered to turn around and check on sunrise … exactly at the right time … the sun was just rising in the east behind the remaining boats and the village. It was an awesome sunrise! There was still much going on along the beach, but it seemed slowly the activity was ebbing out … or maybe not …


If I should capture the most beautiful sunrise,
only then, will I stop capturing them.
Danikelii



Indeed it felt as if I was the only person on that beach who took the time to watch the sunrise … Ely came to check on me. He actually could not believe I had gotten up so early to watch the spectacle … But I told him, staying in this village and getting up for this had just been one more highlight of this tour … I could not believe this trip was nearly over and we were less than 80 km away from Nouakchott … and in less than 58 hrs I would be flying out …


The sunrise, of course, doesn’t care if we watch it or not.
It will keep on being beautiful,
even if no one bothers to look at it.
Gena Amole