Mauritania Trip Report

Mauritania is a large, mostly desert-like country in northwest Africa, that parallel's the North Atlantic coast on its western side.
It's bordered by Morocco and, unrecognised, Western Sahara to the north, Algeria to the northeast, Mali to the east and Senegal to the south, across the Senegal River.
 The majority of Mauritania's vast land is covered by the Sahara in the north and centre, with a small area of semi-arable land in the south, along the Senegal River.
The population is small, approximately just over 5 million, with the vast majority being Muslim. People in the south are more ethnically African and belong to several tribes, most notably Fula.
Nouakchott is the capital and largest city, located on the Atlantic coast.
The currency is the Mauritanian Ougiya. US$1 = roughly 39 MU, 1 Euro is about 52 MU and UK£1 = approximately 55 MU.
A bottle of water costs 10 MU, a traditional head scarf called a Hawli, is about 300 MU and a beef burger with chips/fries, can cost roughly 100 MU or so.
The people of Mauritania are mostly friendly, kind and helpful. Although there's not too much English spoken outside of Nouakchott. The national languages are Arabic and French, with some ethnic languages spoken in the south.
Foreigners can fly into Nouakchott from Tunis, Casablanca, Las Palmas (Gran Canaria), Paris or  Istanbul.
The Visa on arrival for Europeans and most others is 55 Euros for 30 days.

Mauritania can be travelled independently to some extent. Public transport mainly consists of Sept-place (7 seater cars, with upto 7-8 passengers) and some buses.
Trips between Nouakchott, half way along the coast, and Nouadhibou in the north, is fairly easy and takes roughly 6 hours. Buses travel to-from Nouakchott-Rosso on the border with Senegal and take roughly 3-4 hours .
People can also go to Atar in the Adrar Desert from Nouakchott by shared car or bus and also take a sept-place from Nouakchott to Nema in the east, near the border with Mali, but it's a long way and can take over 12 hours.
Shared taxis and some buses also go to towns in the south, like Kaedi, Mauritania's third largest city, and to Boghe, nown for its traditional round houses. These are two places I visited with a guide.
However, attempting to visit the UNESCO sites of Ouadaine, Chinguetti, Tichitt  and Oualata or Azougui (Azoueiga) oasis, is almost impossible and impractible without a guide and a 4 by 4 vehicle. Doing this alone is very expensive.

I joined a group of 10 people for a 7-day guided tour, run and organised by T'Ore Mauritania. A fantastic young company run by locals. The all-inclusive tour cost approx. US$17,00 per person. Flights are extra. The cost included all meals and drinks, all accommodation in mostly 3-4* hotels, plus 1 night camping in the desert. Travel in air condition 4 by 4 vehicle, all tickets for museums and historical sites, plus lots of bottled water, snacks, andthe ride on the famous Iron Ore train –  the highlight of the trip.

The Iron Ore train, reputed to be the world's longest at over 2.5 kilometres long takes iron ore from the minds in Souerad in the east to Nouadhibou in the west and goes back again, empty. The train, with 126 waggans can be ridden in both directions. Although riding the train when it's full of ore is more of an experience! People ride for free and sit and/or lie on the ore in open waggans for at least 18 hours and sometimes longer. The train I rode depart around 5 in the evening and arrived in Nouadhibou around 11 in the morning the next day.
Alghout the train travels quit slowly, it move from side to side and jurks a lot, the wamgans sometimes together and making a clanking noise. Stars can often been seen once it goes dark, but can get cold at night and towards dawn, as the train nears the coast. It got hot after about 9 in the morning and was very hot by 10 am. Sleeping on the ore is hard and uncomfortable. Wearing a Hawli; a Mauritanian scarf that is warn over the head and face and wrapped around is recommended, as it helps to keep out some of the dust. I'd also suggest buying and wearing a Bubu, a traditional male Mauritanian long blue dress to cover one's clothes. It has long slits down each side and alsohas long sleeves. A thin mattus is recommended to make the journey more barible! I travelled in mid October and it didn't feel that cold during the night. There was a cool wind towards dawn. I imagine riding the train in December or January could be much colder in the night. Everyone wore goggles, which was a good idea as it kept the black fine dust from irritating the eyes.
Plenty of water was provided during the trip and we brought snacks to keep us going. The biggest challenge was going to the toilet on the moving train! Many of the guys simply peed over the side, I tried this, but it went everywhere! I think the 4 ladies found it more difficult. I know one of them peed in a bottle!
The entire trip was an adventure. From sleeping in a tent in the desert and hiking up a 45 metre to see the sunset, to exploring the narrow passages and streetsof historic Ouadane. We had our own chief and the food was delicious. Tables with cloth covers, cutlery and silverware was provided at each meal and it felt like we were royality! The guides gave us good informative info each morning and evening and we always knew what was happening each day.
A fantastic trip with wonderful people.

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Syria Trip Report

Syria Report
9 day guided group tour in Syria, 18-27 May 2024.
Tour company: Golden Teams Syria, run by Fadi Assi.
goldenteamsy.com
In conjunction with nomadmania.com
a website and organisation for avid travellers, founded by Harry Mitsidis.
This trip through fascinating Syria was a 7-day adventure with a two-day add on to the Golan Heights and ancient Palmyra at the end .
The 'motly crew' of 12 foreign travellers included:
Enthusiastic Harry, Nomad mania founder and travel extraordenaire, exuberant Michael and his constantly laughing whife, Angie from Tennessee, smooth-talking Lee and deep-voiced Steve from New Jersey, intelligent Max from Austria, quiet Christof, Sweeden, young Matei from romania (living in Belgium), 'shaking-leg' Austin from Alabama, kind Pete and radio-man Palle from Denmark, bouncy Claire from Scotland/Canada, former police officer and quiet man Sean from England, and me, Tony the blind traveller and commedian!
We were expertly guided, informed, deliciously fed and, ocasionally,  coaxed into enjoying Syria's many wunderous sights and places, by fantastic, knowledgeable ola and kind, caring and smiling Touleen, supported by the master of it all, Fadi Assi, our friendly smiling Syrian giant, who created all the magic!
Visas were organised in advanced, and all that was needed was a copy of the passport page and some basic info to be sent to Syrian officials: full name, age, occupation, email, place of birth, nationality, education, etc. Visa was paid at the Lebanon-Syrian border.
Request to enter Syria and acquire a visa with support from a local sponsor/tour company was submitted several weeks before entry. Fadi's company organised this and everything went smoothly. (At present, Syria can only be visited with a guide/sponsor).
The 7-day main trip cost USD $1080, with the 2 day-2 night add-on trips an extra USD$370.
The main trip included all transport in Syria, transfer from Beirut to Damascus return, all soft drimks, several bottles of water per day, accommodation in 3-4 * hotels, entry tickets to all sights and guides.
Extras: snacks during the day, souvenirs, tips for guides. Flights to Beirut, Lebanon were not included.

On the morning of 18th May, the group met at the Regis Hotel in central Beirut, boarded a large coach and the adventure began. I'd met Michael, Angie, Pete, Christov the night before: Palle I new from a previous encounter.
As the coach rumbled through Beirut's busy streets, people got to know one another. Some 2 or so hours later, the Lebanon-Syrian border was reached. Exiting Lebanon was easy enough, passports checked, exit stamps given, US Dollars changed to Syrian Pounds – lots and lots of Syrian Pounds!
(USD$1 = approximately 15,000 Cyrian Pounds: May 2024)!
a ten-minute  drive brought us to the Syrian side and the long wait ensued! We joined one cue, only to be shunted into another line. Passport was eventually given, payment of USD$150 in my case, was handed over. I was taken to yet another line to get my Syrian Entry stamp. When asked my occupation, I replied “unemployed”. But this was no problem. Entry stamp was granted, passport was handed back and we all rejoined the coach for the hour or so long drive to Damascus, Syria's ancient capital and largest city.
Upon arrival in Damascus 'old town', we were met by the smiling face and warm voice of Harry who welcomed us, grabbed my hand and exclaimed, “a special person”!
I briefly met Ola, our main guide,  Before Harry took my arm and, with pack on my back, dragged me along the rough, uneven street to our nearby opulent hotel, the Al Pasha !
I quickly discovered that Syria is a country of steps, big ones, and lots of them!! I also discovered in that short, fast walk that Damascus' old town has narrow streets with uncompromising pavements and roads. Vehicles and obsticles, such as bollards , trees, lampposts and steps, up and down, are everywhere! Cars, trucks, motorbikes drive and park where they like, giving no thought to padestrians. If one is blind and using a long white cane, like me, Damascus is a challenge. If one is in a wheelchair, Damascus, in deed, Syria, is a nightmare and an extreme struggle!
The one compensation to disabled people travelling in Syria, is that the local people are kind, generous and desire to help at every turn.
Upon arrival at the Al Pasha , a cool, spacious building, with high ceilings and interesting carved doors, rooms were found, check-incompleted, the itinerary discussed, and then off we went. First was lunch, followed by a guided tour of old Damascus. When I say lunch, I mean a feast!
By now I'd gained the mames of most of my travel companions and was beginning to distinguish individual voices, not an easy task for someone who is 80% deaf in both ears without my hearing aids. Some voices were easy. Harry I'd met before in Athens, Greece and his slightly Greek/slightly English squeek was easy enough to recognise. michael's positive tone and Angie's distinctive laugh was also becoming fermilliar, but the others: still a little hard to completely recognise. Ola, who introduced herself to me immediately and who I came to know early-on was easy to identify by voice, her happy, sing-song Asian accent was distinctive , even to my deaf ears.
However, back to lunch. A feast. A long table in a large restaurant. Roughly a 10 or so minute walk from the hotel. Food everywhere, many small dishes on the table surrounding me. My fellow travel mates chatting away, doing their best to describe what was in front of me. Pita bread was offered, salad was mentioned, to which, I promptly declined, establishing a joke that would last throughout, “tony would you like salad?” my reply was always, “No!” I was offered Hummus , the Middle Eastern dip/spread made from cooked mashed chickpeas and other ingrediants, which I like and other small dishes. Some cold meat I think, cheese and other dips, some sweet, others spicy. Six or seven dishes before the meat arrived. Chicken I think it was and very tasty.
Throughout the trip I tasted kibbeh, a dish made of spiced lean ground meat and bulgur wheat, dolma, dishes of grape or other leaves stuffed with rice, vegetables  and/or meat,  and garlic,  ful, a type of bean stew. I also ate Several kinds of cheese including fried melted cheese sticks, beef, lamb and chicken kebab. Eggplant, zucchini stuffed with rice, chips (french-fries) at every meal, bbq chicken and much more. There were less dessert options; mainly fresh fruit and, occasionally, ice cream – most delicious!
After a huge lunch, we explored 'old damascus. I was introduced to Touleen, a local lady with thin arms, soft skin and long hair. She was my guide and helped me throughout most of the trip around Syria. She was lovely, attentative  and grew in confidence the longer we spent together. She would put my hand on handrails when ascending/descending steps, describe scenery to me when I asked and repeated all the information I failed to hear. She was very patient with me and I think she had fun guiding me around and explaining some of her country's culture to me. I learned a lot from her, both about the life and culture of Syria and also about myself, how to be a better, kinder person.
Ola showed us around, giving historical info on the various sights, like notable St. Ananias Church. A cave-like structure with a long history and a local legend. I enjoyed the cool enterior and heard the echo whilst stroking the large, rough rock-like stones. This is how I 'see' a building, My body is able to identify the space of my surroundings, hear the echo, feel the rough or bumpy or smooth ground under my feet. The floor of this church felt smooth with some bumps and several indentations. Touching the walls and climbing up the large steps gave me an impression of the churches texture, size and scale. Strolling around the huge, iconic Umayyad Mosque in bare feet, was another nice experience. Whilst the hard stone/marble and wooden floors anoyed my soles, walking on the soft carpets was delightful. The mosque, considered one of the oldest and largest in the world,  is huge from the inside alone. The marble of the two shrines to Husayn ibn Ali(grandson of the Islamic prophet Muhammad), was cold and smooth to my touch. The group and I wanderd along busy Al-Moustakim Street, inspecting various ancient souks, including the gold souk, etc. Whilst many in the group peard in shop windows, admired the stone architecture with there colourful decoration and symbols, or shopped for souvenirs and gifts, I touch several old wooden doors, felt the carved decoration and absorbed the sounds and smells of 'old Damascus'. Burning incense, spices, hurbs, womens perfume, both strong and light. Strong, flavoured coffee from all directions, chocolate from another cafe, a bakery wofting out sweet pastery on one street and countless other smells-  a cohesion of delights and abhorrents, simultaniously, combined with the ubiquitous stench of car fuims!
 It being a saturday afternoon, the streets were busy with local shoppers, coffee goers and alike. Pushing and shubbing was the norm, but not too agressively. Charming Syrian men and women dressed in various colours, some women covered, others not, waved and smiled at us. I assumed that women in Syria covered their boddies, but Touleen explained only when entering a mosque. She said some women covered their hair, others did not. Some women wore make-up and jewellery, others less so. Despite the recent conflict and the destruction, people seemed happy and friendly. They were certainly friendly and welcoming to us foreigners.
You know a group tour is going to be memorable when first stop of the second day is a local sweet factory! It was an hour or so from Damascus on the way to ancient Bosra, our main destination. An hour was spent at this delightful and interesting sweet factory. A demonstration of traditional sweet making was presented. Basically a string-like kind of dough, very thin, is slowly rolled together into a sausage-like shape and cut into smaller peaces. I believe, but maybe mistaken, almonds or pistashio nuts are added and then it is put into an extremely hot oven for ten minutes or so. After this, the heated doughy item is removed from the oven and rose water and sugar are added. This is left to cool for twenty-four ours before being cut into small blocks and eaten or sold. They tasted slightly of nuts and were a little chewy, but delicious.
After that we continued to the UNESCO World Heritage Site of ancient Bosra, with its, now, quiet empty streets.  Bosra, once a thribing town, is independent of the Syrian government and permission was needed to visit. The quiet surroundings, broken only by our footfalls and my tapping cane, gave an erie sense to the atmosphere. Our first real inclimation that Syria had recently experienced a war and its aftermath was still present. We had lunch on a rooftop restaurant, sitting on traditional blankets and cushans and relaxed. A lady in traditional dress, described to me by one of the group, began to make dough and cook it on a gas fire. The dough was eventually turned into a kind of flat thin pie with cheese and/or meat inside. They were large and delicious. Then it was time to visit the Roman Theatre with its large stage, many stone seats and its covered portico-style upper gallery . A long rough tunnel or passageway descended from the road into the amphitheatre. I felt the rocky stone walls and detected rough stone and gravel under my feet.  This theatre, said by Harry to be a remarkable example of Roman architecture that was protected by large layers of sand was, in his opinion, one of the finest of its style and architecture. This ancient theatre somehow managed to produce a perfect echo across its enormous auditorium. I clearly heard the echo of our voices before being spell-bound by the piercing high-piched hornting sound of a sad operatic song by  one of Fadi's female staff, an extremely expert opera singer. It sliced through my soul and, seemingly, made time stand still. Very moving. Other group members said they felt a similar emotion to me later. I could feel the vast space of the theatre in front of me. Feeling the broken smooth stone was wonderful. I noticed a spiral patern on one of the broken blocks.
Each day of the trip was like this. We'd visit an interesting place in the morning and a historical sight in the afternoon or vice versa. Time on the coach was spent participating in one of Harry's funny and odd quizzes! Jokes were cracked, odd sights and objects, like pink beatle cars, that Harry liked photographing were spotted and analysed! It past the time. We also undertook some 'Dark' tourism, photographing destroyed buildings from the 2011-present Civil War/conflict ( Called the Crisis by Syrians). A frajile ceasefire since 6 March 2020, with sporadic clashes.I think some of the group found this a little surreal. A lot of destruction was noticed in Aleppo, although some was also caused by the 2023 earthquake. Like others, I also took photos of the devistation, not really understanding what I was exactly photographing!
On the second night in Damascus, we had our Karioki night, an activity I usually avoid! But on this evening, my fun side came to the fore, and I sang and dance to several songs I knew most of the words too! They all loved it and thought I was a star! It was fun, but we mostly had the place to ourselves, which made a difference. Participating in karioki on another ocasion was less of a success.
Big cities like Aleppo, Hama and Hombs were visited, but also small, quiet villages where the locals were delighted to see us.
There were so many unique moments for me, like being gifted a free bracelet by a nun in one of Maaloula's historical monasteries. The nun refused payment and said she'd pray for me. When she noticed I was deaf as well as blind, apparently, she just shuck her head and prayed more! Near the end of the trip, we were hosted by another local family in a lovely village and I danced with the father of the family. He danced with his grandson on his shoulders, which was hilarious. As we were leaving, the little three-year-old boy apparently, asked to have a photo with “Tony.”
For me, visiting the mountainous village of Raba was the highlight of the trip. Set in a long, narrow valley, its steep streets and cool windy climate made me feel alive. But the  people: amazing. They couldn't stop stairing at us, astonished to see foreigners. They were so friendly and welcoming. They showed us the village, their churches; two Greek orthodox, an ancient stone one and a larger newer building. Also the Greek Catholic church, which was spacious. I was allowed to touch a 200 year old bible in one of these wonderful churches, a rare treat. The locals cerenaded us back up the steeply sloped main street – one guy played a trumpet, whilst another guy bangged a make-shift drum from a plastic water bottle. We clapped, walked and bounced our way back to the town's only hotel, specially opened for us, as it was still out of season. Then we were all treated to another huge feast of food as the local music continued. What a special, magical moment.
 I enjoyed the huge Krak de Chevaliers Castle and Oleppo's fascinating historic Citadel, but the highlights for me was meeting the local people in the villages and being given the warmest hospitality. It's the warmth, generosity and kindness of the Syrian people that I met, that wee all encountered, alongside the plentyful, delicious food, is what I take from my amazing time in Syria.
I will definitely return to Syria.

A weekend in East Yorkshire

Recently returned from a wonderful weekend in East Yorkshire. After flying back from Greece late last Thursday, I spent the night in Gatwick Airport before catching an early morning train back to Devon. At the flat, I changed backpacks, threw in a few clothes and jumped on a long train bound for Hull on the east coast of England.

I arrived in Hull around 21:30 after a 6 hour journey that included changing in Taunton, Somerset and Sheffield, South Yorkshire. In Hull, I took a taxi into the town and stayed at the lovely independent Trinity Backpackers, a hostel I highly recommend. Next morning I got a lift back to Hull train station and met up with my best friend, Will, a school friend of some 30 years and began our adventure! Will is blind in one eye and has a dodgy left foot and hand. He lives alone and is completely independent – a great bloke, very funny! :). Because he can only see out of his left eye, when he guides me, we always go around in circles!

Will found a bus and we headed to the charming seaside town of Withernsea, roughly an hours’ journey from hull. This part of Yorkshire is known as the East Riding.

Once at the beach town, we went for a wander, Will following the streets and I following the sent of the salty sea air. We had brunch in a nice cafe before going to search for Withernsea’s white, tall, inland lighthouse. After stumbling around the busy streets for several minutes, Will spotted the way to its museum. We entered by the back door, not unusual for us, and had a quick nosy around. The museum is largel dedicated to 1950s actress Kay Kendall, who was born in the town. However, as everything was in glass, there was little of interest apart from a few old photographs. We paid the UK£4.50 entry fee, located the door to the lighthouse, entered and began the ascent of the 127 feet (39 metre) cylindrical building. The first hundred steps were easy enough, but to reach the highest platform, we had to climb a narrow, vertical metal ladder. that was fun! Once at the top, Will admired the view and I enjoyed the fresh air. Several minutes later, we descended. Back on terrafirma, it was yet another tea stop before taking one last bus to the village of Holmpton, our base for the weekend.

Incidentally, the Prime Meridian crosses the coast north-west of Withernsea.

Holmpton is a small spread-out village situated approximately 3 miles (5 km) south of Withernsea town centre and 3 miles (5 km) east of the village of Patrington. It lies just inland from the North Sea coast.

Holmpton parish had a population of 228 in 2011. St Nicholas parish church is Grade II listed. The Greenwich Prime Zero meridian line passes through the parish, but we didn’t know this at the time of visit.

The village is home to RAF Holmpton, built originally as an early warning radar station, and now refurbished to act as museum and archive in Cold War built buildings, including a command bunker which is about 100 feet (30 m) below ground.

On a ramble around the quiet village on our first evening, Will noticed a round stone memorial to the crew of RAF Avro Manchester bomber L7523 that crashed just south of the village on the night of 14 January 1942, killing all 7 crew. The bomber was returning from a rade on Hamburg, Germany.

Our reason for staying in Holmpton for two nights was to visit and walk around Spurn Point and climb its lighthouse.

Coordinates: 53.575955°North 0.111454°East. Spurn is a narrow sand tidal island located off the tip of the coast of the East Riding of Yorkshire, England that reaches into the North Sea and forms the north bank of the mouth of the Humber Estuary.

The island is over three miles (five kilometres) long, almost half the width of the estuary at that point, and as little as 50 yards (45 metres) wide in places. The southernmost tip is known as Spurn Head or Spurn Point and was, until early 2023, the home to an RNLI lifeboat station and two disused lighthouses.

It has been owned since 1960 by the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust and is a designated national nature reserve, heritage coast and is part of the Humber Flats, Marshes and Coast Special Protection Area.

Will and I caught an early bus from Holmpton to the start of Spurn on the Sunday morning, alighted at the final stop, headed to the nearby visitor centre, had a drink, listened to a short audio infromation screen about Spurn, its history, nature and lighthouse before setting off to find the trail that would, eventually, lead us to the lighthouse. However, finding the rocky trail was difficult. We ended up following a grassy trail that lead onto the large sand dunes. As this was soft giving sand, we slid our way to the left, slid down on to harder flatter sand and followed the off-shore sea around the tidle island for, supposedly, 3 miles (5 km). The atmosphere was idilic, we were almost the only people there. The wind blew cool and strong and the sun made the air warm but not hot. We trudged along, enjoying the peace and nature. The sound of the sea was delightful. I had to stop every 0.1 mile to rest my legs, but otherwise, we made steady progress. Will could see the lighthouse in the distance to our right most of the time and he used that as a baring. After roughly 3 miles walking, Will said we need to go up by way of the sand dunes, but judge them too steep. Thus we continued to the point, another 1.5 miles or so, maybe more. As we neared the point, the terrain became more rough and rocky. Stones and rocks everywhere, pieces of wood, clumps of seaweed. Walking became difficult. We both tripped and stumbled. But, eventually, we reach the point. Then we trekked up onto higher ground, found a wooden seat and had a rest. 20 minutes later, we set off again, this time to reach the lighthouse. Several buildings were spotted, including offices of the heritage trust, the former lifeboat station, the broken pier, from where the lifeboat was launch, and a World War II gun emplacement. 15 or 20 minutes later, after trekking along a few more rough roads, we reached the lighthouse. We ascended two stone steps, entered, chatted with the friendly guys on the ticket desck and began the climb of 144 steps. Like the lighthouse in Withernsea, the first sets of steps had handrails and were fairly easy. But the last two levels were reached by vertical ladders. First a brass ladder of some 20 vertical steps, followed by another ladder of 4 runs. Finally, we were at the top. The gentleman who’d followed us up, pointed out various viewpoints to Will, whilst I simply enjoyed being there. This lighthouse is 1 foot (30 centimetres) taller than Withernsea Lighthouse. A quick rest before we descended to the ground. The other gentleman at the lighthouse, kindly gave us a lift back to the start of the tidle island, by the visitor centre. We grabbed a final drink before taking the last bus back to Holmpton. A great day successfully completed. A second night of Chinese take-away was followed before a good nights’ sleep was taken. The following morning, the Monday, 24th June, we packed our bags, took the first bus back to Withernsea, then another bus to Hornsea, one more bus to Bridlington before wandering through that town to the train station. I headed to Sheffield and onwards to Exeter and Teignmouth, Will caught a bus to York and onto Leeds. A fantastic weekend with lots of walking and climbing. What fun. Cheers, Tony :).