Yesterday we cycled from Akasha to Abri. 50 kilometers of sand. Again. Twig has been feeling ill for a couple of days now. He got hit with a stomach bug and has been struggling to eat, so he and I got in a bus and caught a 20km lift on to Abri – which we had been told was the next decent spot for the next 200km. I hadn’t quite expected a metropolis, but I had to chide myself for expecting more. This is Africa, the very heart of Africa.
We wandered around town – a dusty road lined with beaten out single story buildings caked with pastel colours and off-white shades. Men in white robes line the streets, sitting on store steps, smoking sheesha pipes, quietly prayerful, or offering “welcome” as we wander by.
We stopped at a general store which was stocked with the regular Sudanese goods: Tuna, pasta, beans, cheese triangles, coco-cola, sweets and biscuits. Grabbing a cold drink, we asked after transport for Twig into Dongola for the following day. It is going to be a very tough 250 kilometres ahead, and he needs to regain his health – it is definitely the most sensible option to catch a lift ahead and wait for us there. Within a couple of minutes we were escorted to a little doorway that we understood to be the transport office. We now had 20 odd men around us all offering us some advice in fluent Arabic and intermingled, stilted, English. Again – the helpfulness of the Sudanese astounds me.
I had an icy shower in a little cement room with a hole in the floor for a toilet. The shower literally entailed a tap a meter off the ground. I hadn’t had a shower in 6 days and my hair was starting to feel a little manky. I cannot begin to explain how much I enjoyed that ice cold water! - It was only afterwards that the boys pointed out that there was a very conveniently placed peep hole to the room – and that some young guys had probably had some x-rated entertainment!
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