Nouakchott by night

The rest in Nouakchott was very useful. We went to the fish market closeby. Apparently a Hungarian walked in wearing a ridiculous swimming trunk, unfortunately, I missed that, but it must have been hilarious. We found a very shitty broken car, and we took it for a round. The owner wanted to sell it for 100000 and almost managed to convince the English to change it for the Polski. We saw a lorry, whose owner told us it was 110 years old. Attila and the others managed to make it to the market; I was on the internet meanwhile. We bought 10 kg goat meat, and the German-French couple bought 4 kg shrimps.

The Mauritanian Tourism Minister visited the team. He thanked us for showing how safe his country was. I couldn’t really comprehend this sentence. On the way almost on every single hill there was a 4x4 with a shotgun on it and a group of soldiers next to it. We saw some RPG guys as well. Two days ago a whole army was watching out for us. Unfortunately, they didn’t let us take photos, nor to use guns. Is this country safe at all? On the other hand there’s a lot on stake for Mauritania with this rally. The Dakar means 10% of the country’s GDP (plus the presents and the bribes), so they can’t afford a mistake. We are not the only daring ones though, there are two other rallies organized by English going through the country in the same time. The truth is, that all the havoc went on not to change money on the border, but rather to wait for a certain person, who’ll bring money to the camp. He came, and turned out that he was the camp’s owner. And as he was there, we could sort out the compulsory insurance at him right away. And his exchange rate was 300 for a Euro for the losers. Normally it’s 350-360 and above 380 in banks, but according to the itinerary we should avoid the latter. Security has it’s price.

The Tourism boss fortunately didn’t come in the bus. It smelt like a palinka brewery. At the previous place, the sheriff came on board, we had to show him around. No matter how hard we tried to hide the bier tap, he saw it. He didn’t say a word. Live and let live, we change money they let us drink, thanks.

The function went on for a long while with the Tourism Minister. It was the usual protocol, greetings, shaking hands, the organizers and the Alfa team even dressed in local dresses. By the way, if the Lithuanian fishing deputy minister comes to Hungary, does he need to wear the traditional cavalryman’s outfit and dance a Hungarian dance? I pissed off to prepare the goat meat.

Later on we wanted to go back with Abdulay to see whether there’s a party, and to ask the hotel’s owner (the brother of yesterday’s hotel owner) where we can set a fire. Abdulay took me across the beach to the party. In a big tent a few men in suites and another few in local neat dresses were sitting, a woman and 2 little girls were singing and a local guy was hitting the electronic piano. Apparently our lot haven’t yet turned up. We stood there stupidly. The song ended. The ones sitting inside stared at us. Then another song started. Then we realized that we are in a wrong party. A local ‘top man’ was celebrating. We got to our party, where the function still was on. The group just stood up for the protocol photos. The minister, the rally’s organizers, the Alfa team, etc. Abdulay crashed the photo shoot without a word. If anyone reads the Mauritanian news, he’s the one in the baseball cap at the end of a side. Restecpa.

We found the hotel’s owner, he was sitting in a tent with his wife. She said with big gestures that we can set fire far from the hotel and we mustn’t drink alcohol. According to Abdulay’s translation we can set fire, but shouldn’t pour alcohol on it, because the big flames will set the hotel on fire. The woman later came to check whether we were drinking. I assume she didn’t want to appear in a bad way for the Tourism Minister and bribe him, or what’s even worse to give him from their hidden alcohol. The party was really good though. Half of the goat meat was gone, and all the shrimps.