Somewhere along the Nile between Wadi Halfa and Abri, Sudan
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Sudan Trip Journal from November 13 to 20, 2007

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Country: Sudan
Duration: Nov. 13 to 20, 2007
Distance Traveled in the Country: Approx. 2100km on the motorcycles.
Most Memorable Impressions:
We finally found the real Africa.  The journey from Wadi Halfa to Dongola, our favorite, through some of the toughest riding we had done, 420km of washboard gravel roads to sand and more sand.  The scenery makes up for all the exhausting hours of standing up and trying not to crash in the sand. Every so often one gets a glimpse of the Nile.  Each village unique, the Sudanese people very welcoming and all smiles.  Camping under the stars by the Nile, having the local farmer come for a visit with his wife and child in the middle of the night, is something that we will never forget.  Another unforgettable night we spent in the desert between Karima and Khartoum.  No sounds, no animals, no traffic, something neither of us had ever experienced, the best night sleep in a long time.  Sudan is not set up for tourism and the amenities are basic.  A bit of an annoyance was the police registration prior to checking into a hotel or taking a ferry (each could take up to an hour of paperwork), that is after spending an hour searching for the police office.  A couple of ancient sites worth a visit were definitely the Pyramids at Karima and tombs at Meroe.
Our Favourite:
- The Ride from Wadi Halfa to Dongola.
Fuel Cost: 1.45 to 1.80 S₤ ($0.72 to $0.90CDN/litre) for Unleaded Fuel.
Accommodations: Camped under the stars for four (4) nights.  Basic Hotel from 14 to 30 S₤/night ($7.00 to $15.00CDN/night).
Exchange Rate: 1 Sudanese Pound (S₤) = $0.50CDN
Border Formality Costs:
Visa = $100.00US/person;
Police Registration at Wadi Halfa = $37.00CDN/person
Motorcycle Customs = 77 S₤/motorcycle ($38.50CDN/motorcycle) including 15 S₤/motorcycle for freelance border paperwork assistant. 

Nov. 12, 2007. The Ferry port is located about 20km south of Aswan and Mr. Salah had advised us to arrive early for all the paperwork to be completed.  The gate opens at 9am and there is a huge line up already of people, trucks loaded to the sky, carriages and mountains of luggage.  We heard from Mr. Salah that another motorcycle was booked to go as well.  We met Werner, from South Africa, at the gate; he had been waiting since 7am.  As anxious and nervous as we had been. Our passports are checked first and we are let into the gate with the motorcycles, then they searched the bags and made Werner remove his soft luggage and run it through the X-ray.  Mr. Salah arrives and tells us to follow him to his office to complete the paperwork.  While the boys take care of the customs formalities of the motorcycles, I remove all the gear from the motorcycles and stuff it into the two (2) large bags we had purchased at the souq in Aswan.  Our passports were stamped out and by 11:30am we were ready to get on the ferry.  We had to walk over the cargo barge to get to the passenger ferry and went for the deck area.  We had been forewarned (from research over the internet) that the 2nd class seating area in the hull of the ship consisting of wooden benches, which would get overcrowded and impossible to leave once the sun sets and that the best option was to get to the deck of the boat before 12pm, otherwise it would be hard to find a free spot.  Werner had originally booked a 1st class cabin, but after seeing the cabin condition decided to join us on the upper deck on the floor.  It turned out that his cabin was later taken over by four (4) people. We laid out our gear in a square area to secure our territory, which continuously someone tries to encroach on. From our location we had a great view point of the loading area for the cargo barge.  What a disaster. In a civilized country the operation would have been shut down due to safety and working conditions.  Truck after truck loaded to double its height would back up to the cargo barge, lean at a very dangerous level and someone would climb to the top of the mountain of whatever stuff that was going to Sudan (like a Barber Chair) and started untying the ropes that held it all in one place.  Sometimes it would stay in place other times the "stuff" would come crashing down without warning.  The hull of the cargo barge started to fill with more bags full of stuff was being piled on top.  The deck of the barge was 2m lower by the time it was loaded.  The ferry is supposed to leave at 4pm, but has to wait until the cargo barge is loaded as well, which in our instance took until 6pm.  Werner and Mike stood with the bikes, while I was defending our space at the deck of the Passenger Ferry.  There was not an inch of space available to sit down, every corner was taken by luggage, boxes and people.  The sun had set and the flood lights came on.  The cargo barge seemed to be loaded, the question now was how to get the motorcycles on it, as the barge was now 2m lower from the edge of the dock.  Mr. Salah came to rescue and told them to move the barge to a level spot.  Meanwhile, I had no idea what was going on and noticed that the passenger ferry was moving as well and Mike and Werner was still on dry land.  Great, I had a vision of being on my own with all these people for the next how many hours.  Finally the motorcycles are moved on the barge and Mike ties them down.  That's it, we say farewell to our bikes. Mike and Werner battle there way to the top deck.  There is no words to explain the night ahead and the conditions everyone is placed in.  I imagine that refugees fleeing from a country on a boat would be in a similar position.  We felt like a herd of cows, stacked onto the ferry, every possible space taken up.  Going to the bathroom was a nightmare.  We climbed along the outside railing of the ferry to get to the end of the stair way leading to the bottom, stepping over people, no lights on the boat (no moon).  Again, in a civilized world the ferry company would be shut-down and fined hugely for breaking all types of safety and health issues, but this is Egypt.  We leave Aswan at 6am and arrive in Wadi Halfa, Sudan at 1pm the next day (19hrs). 

Nov. 13, 2007.  During the night, it gets quite cold as the wind picks up and we get the sleeping bags out.  Everyone sleeps on everyone else, Werner decides to sleep on the outside of the railing, by the life boat.  In the middle of the night someone shines a flashlight into our face and pushes a piece of paper into our hand. This person wants our passports and us to complete this custom paper.  How they found us, who knows, but we complete the forms and hand over the passports.  No communication on how we get them back. Every hour seemed to drag by, but finally the sun rises and we start to bake in the heat.  Upon arrival, we still wait another hour before anyone is let off the ferry.  We exchange some US Dollars and Euro on the boat. We are able to move after a couple of hours and make our way to the exit. Here we are asked for our passports, we of course had given our passport to the strange man that visited us during the night and had no idea where to pick them up.  Meanwhile there is a stampede of people trying to exit the ferry with their entire luggage and we are blocking the exit.  Somehow we find out that our passports are in the "Dinning Room" and have to be picked up in person, were they took down some more information, like your mothers name, your job etc.  Finally we are off the ferry and head for the immigration office.  Our passports are already stamped and all we have to complete is getting our luggage searched to be able to get on our merry way.  Of all things we were held up at the luggage search point due to our Satellite phone, which they thought was a GPS.  Luckily they didn't realize that we had actually two (2) GPS' on us.  We made it.  Old Toyota Land Cruiser Pick-up Trucks are waiting outside to take you into Wadi Halfa 3km from the port.  We and seven (7) other people load into the truck and the luggage is secured on the roof.  And then he wants 5 S₤ ($2.5CDN) from each of us westerns only.  We knew that there was no way that the locals were paying that, so we exited again and made him unload our luggage from the roof.  500m from the port is a gate and the final passport check.  Here we caught a Toyota Land Cruiser Pick-up Truck with only the three (3) of us piled into it for 10 S₤ ($5CDN) total.  Sometimes it is just the point of getting ripped off.  The taxi took us straight to the Nile Hotel, tearing down the gravel/sand road we bounce in the back and see the real Africa for the first time.  Wadi Halfa, is exactly what I expected.  No more paved roads, mud brick homes, straw roofs, sandy roads.  The Nile Hotel is awesome.  A private room has four (4) single beds.  You pay by beds in the room, even if you don't use them.  Werner was only too happy to share with us.  It was 7 S₤/bed ($3.50CDN/bed).  The floor is sand and the bedding questionable, but it all adds to the place.  The showers and bathrooms are separate. No more hot showers, but with the heat that we would be experiencing who cared. The local restaurants are around the corner.  We order our food by going into the kitchen and looking into each pot and then point to the pot we want.  We ate a lot of Sudanese food and it was always great (maybe because we always were starving).

Nov. 14, 2007. After some eggs and bread for breakfast from the local restaurant we decide to walk the 3km to the port and inquire to the arrival of the barge, as there was nothing else to do.  As we stand on the dock staring into the distance of Lake Nasser we suddenly can see something.  It is only 9am and the cargo barge is a lot earlier than 48hrs.  Excited to see it approach, we watch as they anchor in a spot where it is impossible to get any cargo off.  Before the cargo barge is moved, it is breakfast time for the crew.  I made myself comfortable on the rocks of the dock and then one of the locals told me to move as he just killed a scorpion beside me and showed it to me.  I was under the impression that they hibernate during the winter. As there is no unloading room available directly on the dock, the barge is moved beside another barge, which meant that the motorcycles had to be moved from different elevation from one barge to another to the dock.  Let's just say that the make shift ramps had seen better days.  We had met four (4) overlanders in vehicles who where supposed to leave the week prior on the ferry from Sudan to Egypt, but upon loading the first vehicle the ramp broke and they had to wait another week in Wadi Halfa for the next barge.  By 11:30am we had the motorcycles safely off the barge and headed for the customs building.  We had read on the internet to use Magdi for the custom formalities, as he was straight forward and charged a fair rate for his services.  As we park the motorcycles in front of the custom building a man approaches us and offers his services, wary from Egypt, we inquire first to his fee and name.  It was Magdi and he outlined on a piece of paper all the fees that were required to be paid.  His fee for getting the paper work completed while we waited was 15 S₤/motorcycle ($7.50CDN/motorcycle), even cheaper then what we had anticipated.  Another 62 S₤/motorcycle ($31.00CDN/motorcycle) was payable for the motorcycle customs formality. It took almost 3 1/2hrs to get the carnets stamped and the motorcycles into the country.  Now we were in a mad rush to get to the police station to register ourselves in Sudan, which has to be done within three (3) days upon arrival in Sudan either in Wadi Halfa or Khartoum.  But the police station closes at 3pm.  We arrive at 2:50pm, Werner makes himself comfortable in the police office to ensure they don't close, as we require photocopies of our passport and Sudan visa, with the photocopier of course in a different part of the town. The cost for police registration is 75 S₤/person ($37.50CDN/person), which meant I had to ride back to the hotel and quickly change some US Dollars to Sudanese, as the two (2) banks in town were already closed at 3pm.  At the police station the officer completes the paper work and at 3:30pm tells us to return in the morning to finalize registration.  Opening times are between 8am and 10am.  We had planned to leave at 6am in the morning to get some km under way before the heat of the day. Police Registration takes about 1 1/2 hrs, which meant we would not leave Wadi Halfa until noon. With the half completed paperwork, we inform the officer of our plans and ask if we can register in Dongola or Khartoum, but it will be way past the three (3) day period.  Dongola was not possible, and Khartoum could not be reached in time.  We told him we would leave anyway and register late in Khartoum as we had his paperwork.  As we get on the motorcycles, the officer returns and asks us to return into the police station and that they would complete our registration now, which is a special stamp in the passport.  Are we ever glad that we had gotten a 48page passport.  During our last six (6) months Middle East trip the normal 24page passport was completely full due to Visa's and entry stamps.  So far every African country we have entered has used two (2) pages of our passport.  We realized that as we had half the paperwork this police station would have gotten into trouble if we would have shown up in Khartoum with the uncompleted registration. Finally with all the customs and registration completed, we were ready to begin our next leg through Sudan.

Nov. 15, 2007. I have had nightmares about this stretch of road between Wadi Halfa and Khartoum since we decided to travel Africa on our next adventure.  All the reports we had read, even as recent as June of 2007 had indicated a difficult road ahead.  Ewen McGregor and Charley Boreman had gone through three (3) suspension shocks on their motorcycles this year traveling on this road.  An overlander posted in June that it took him 24hrs travel time to complete 450kms.  At 6am we were on the road, the sun was just rising and it was a truly amazing picture as the three (3) of us rode in formation down the Dirt/Gravel/Sand Road.  The hills glowing red and our shadows huge.  At approx. 110km is the first settlement and rest hut, and we reached it at 8:30am.  The 110km stretch actually had 32km of pavement in the middle, and we made pretty good time.  Here we met up again with three (3) bicyclers (two Germans and one Slovakian), who had left the previous day.  We all had breakfast together.  A carpet was laid out in the sand and some hot beans and fresh bread tasted like heaven.  At this point we had experienced already probably around 20km of the worst washboard road every seen.  Our arms were starting to feel it.  The road didn't get better, but worse and our distanced covered hugely reduced.  Five (5) hours and 80kms later we reach Abri, a small settlement on the Nile.  The gas station is a shop which sells 4 gal jugs of gasoline.  With a plastic bottle as a filter we pour in the gasoline into our tanks.  We have no idea what the going rate is for gasoline in Sudan, but are charged a fair price.  On the other side we didn't have any other option then to pay whatever they would have wanted or be stranded.  It was 2pm and we decided to ride for only another two (2) hours and look for a campsite along the Nile before the sun sets at 5:30pm.  We actually covered another 50km in 1 1/2 hr, as the road temporary improved.  We found a beautiful spot a few hundred meters off the road in a farmers' field right by the Nile, close to the village of Wawa. We set up our tents and got our cooking gear out, as we are joined by the local children.  Curious of every move we make.  We make a huge pot of noodles and mushroom sauce and invite the children by giving them a plate and bread.  It was the funniest moment, as they tried our food and made faces of disgust.  They asked were the sugar was.  Laughingly we communicate that there is no sugar. Another hour passes and the farmer appears, all smiles looking ancient.  We shake hands and try to communicate with the 10 words of Arabic we know.  He does not speak English.  As it gets dark everyone leaves and we watch the stars get brighter.  Werner decides to get an early night sleep, while we relax in our chairs.  A couple of hours pass and we see flashlights approach.  The farmer, his wife and child decided to join us for an evening visit.  We all sit in a circle, them on the floor and we in our chairs, not much communication, but a lot of smiling.  It is interesting to watch them, as they are very natural in their environment, barefoot, sitting in the dirt.  We have been watching for Scorpions ever since the incident in Wadi Halfa, but they seem to be oblivious to anything crawling in the sand. A note on the side I only dropped the bike once in the sand.

Nov. 16, 2007.  We had an excellent sleep, the night was very quite as traffic is almost non existent on this route and mostly limited to small vans shuttling people from one village to another.  We are on the road again by 6am. It is hard to see the road as the sun rises and blinds you.  The road goes from very rocky to sand and more sand.  It became increasingly more difficult to keep the bike upright.  Some sand stretches would be 1m deep soft sand and stretch up to 300m.  The clutch got its workout.  I got stuck twice, digging in the rear wheel to a point where the motorcycle was freestanding.  I did drop the bike twice that day in the sand and each time not really moving (not to mention the countless close calls).  The weight of balancing 300kg too much.  Each time Mike and I were able to lift the motorcycle without unloading.  Mike had only one tumble and probably a 1000 close calls with amazing saves.  Following Mike is a lot easier as when his bike gets out of control, I am able to adjust without going down.  At around 9am we stopped in a village for some food.  The locals, excited to see us, brought out plastic chairs and sit with us as we ate our chocolate bars and drank Pepsi.  One local came with a jug of water to me and told me to wash my face as it was covered with millimeters of dirt, I almost looked as dark as them.  Everyone laughed as I washed off the grit.  Our clothes covered in dust and dirt, we looked a sight.  After our enjoyable breakfast with the locals, we continued making our way through village after village, which are dotted along the Nile.  The wind picked up and the sand and dust started to reduce visibility.  The tracks through the village are mostly sand and sometimes deep gravel.  There is not a second were one can relax, as conditions change continuously.  We were lost a few times as the tracks in the sand go off in different directions, no signage, the GPS indicating what direction we are facing. Werner on his 600cc motorcycle was making way better time then us and long gone.  We knew we would hear from him again sometime and also hook up with him in South Africa.  Close to Kerma, we were lost and asked a truck driver the way to Dongola, he told us that Werner had been through about 45 minutes ago also lost.  There was no road anymore and we rode straight through the desert.  It was totally amazing.  Sand as far as we could see and I could not believe that I was cruising along without the fear of crashing in sand. We arrived at 3pm on the east side of the Nile in Dongola.  180km and 8 hours of riding. We had just missed the ferry, the next ferry was retiring for the day, and as the other ferry arrives, the crew goes for an hour lunch.  Did we mention that it was 40 Deg Celcius.  The ferry is then loaded with people, donkeys, coats, huge truck loaded to hilt and us in the middle. We arrive on the west side of the Nile and head straight for the Olla Hotel (GPS coordinates preprogrammed).  Prior to checking in all tourists have to register with the police at the police office.  We drove around Dongola for 10 minutes and could not find the police station.  Giving up return and told him that we would go later via a taxi to register.  A shower was required.  The room was only 30 S₤/night ($15.00CDN/night), but what a dump, huge spiders lived in the bathroom and we were attacked by sand flies all night.  The guy from reception took us to the market to change some money on the street.  The exchange rate is always the same and fair. Both our lips had taken a beating from the wind and sun of riding with the viser open and we were in need of some Vaseline.  At the pharmacy we met Abdul, a tourist guide from Khartoum, he invited us for tea, which we combined with eating some beans, omelet and bread.  Sudan has some wonderful great bread.  Abdul had some great stories and we enjoyed his company.  We exchanged e-mails and parted ways.  As we return to the hotel, we are asked if we registered with the police. Okay, as we could not get around this task, we got a Rikshaw with Michael Schuhmacher as a driver to take us to the police station.  It was around 9pm now, and we were asked to provide copy of the passport and Sudan Visa.  Mike and the driver get back into the Rikshaw and head off to find a photocopier, while I hang out with the other Police officers watching an Arabic Soap Opera Show.  Finally they switch the TV to the soccer game between Egypt and Sudan, where Egypt won.  Mike returns with the photocopies of all the required information and after 1/2 hr we are registered.  This procedure is required for every hotel or campsite one stays. In addition, we had to get a special permit to take the ferry back across from the west side of the Nile to the east side. This is very important otherwise they will not let you on the ferry. It seems we spent more time doing paper work then anything.

Nov. 17, 2007.  Instead of heading straight to Khartoum, we detour from Dongola to Karima to visit the ancient site of Jebel Barkal. It was a sacred ground for the Egyptians at the time of the 18th dynasty pharaohs.  The tall pointy pyramids are well preserved and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The road from Dongola to Karima is mostly paved and has about 40km of sand/dirt track. The 160km took us about four (4) hours, as there were some very deep sand sections to cross. In another month or two the complete stretch of road should be tarred. The ancient site of Jebel Barkal stands directly beside the road and the pyramids peek from the sand dunes.  No ticket office, no tourists, no fence, just us.  From Karima we cross the Nile by ferry (a new bridge is being built in the distance) and head south-west to where the road from Dongola to Khartoum meet up. It is marked by a large Obelisk.  All new pavement.  300km to Khartoum.  We ride another 75km and then head into desert about a km, with no tracks or road visible to set up camp.  For supper we had Maggi Vegetable broth with bread, as we had eaten a huge lunch in Karima of beans and bread.  It was the most peaceful camping spot that either of us had experienced in our life.  There was no sound, no animals, no traffic, no wind, only the wide open desert and the stars in the sky.  Hans, the German we had met in Luxor, Egypt had told us about his experience in the desert and how quite it gets.  It is unexplainable until experienced in person.  We are so glad we had this opportunity.

Nov. 18, 2007.  As we get closer to Khartoum, we have our first check stop, where they take 15 minutes to write down our passport information etc.  Riding into the Capital of Sudan, Khartoum, is the usual chaos of slow moving vehicles, diesel puking trucks and garbage everywhere.  We are heading straight for the Blue Nile Sailing Club Campground, located on the Nile, downtown Khartoum. Two (2) major bridges have to be crossed, numerous traffic circles and one busy market and we arrive at the so-called Campground.  We were not impressed.  Security was lacking and the camping area a large parking lot.  We debated to continue onwards to Meroe (Ancient City North-East of Khartoum).  The only reason for coming to Khartoum was to visit the Antiquity Service to purchase the ticket for Meroe and the Tourism and Culture Centre for the Photo Permit.  The heat is unbelievable and the thought of riding the motorcycle downtown Khartoum in full clothing our decision to stay at the site.  We set up camp and start walking at noon toward the Antiquity Service located about 3km from the campsite.  Security around government building is over the top, if you stop under a tree for some shade you are told to move on.  There is some major paranoia, every bridge has armed military parked underneath and if you only try to take a picture expect a lengthy stay at the police station, especially if you don't have the all important Photo Permit.  There we are walking in the brutal heat and after asking a few people find the location of the Antiquity Service, only to be told that it is no longer required to purchase the ticket in Khartoum, but it can be bought at the site.  Next stop is the Tourism and Culture Centre for the Photo Permit, another 3km return trip, which we flag down a taxi for.  We arrive at just after 2pm at the Tourism and Culture Centre to be told that they are closed now and to return in the morning.  Opening hours are variable whenever the man in charge feels like coming into the office.  We had met two (2) other travelers, who both did not get their photo permit and where taken to the police station to be questioned.  One guy spent two (2) hours and the other 12 hrs at the police station before let go.  All this information is also stated in the Lonely Planet, but when originally reading this information we thought there is no way any country would actually enforce a photo permit or police registration before checking into a hotel.   We were wrong.  At the campsite we paid 24 S₤/night ($12.00CDN/night) and the person took down our information.  Another hour later another person came and introduced himself as the security person for the campsite and asked for our passport and payment.  The owner of the campsite later told us that there is no such person working at the campsite.  Mike's initial intuition about the place seemed justified. We are asked if we registered with the police in Khartoum, and told him that we had not and would be leaving early in the morning.  We were advised not to mention to the police that we stayed at the Blue Nile Sailing Club.

Nov. 19, 2007. The tarred road from Khartoum to Meroe is initially very busy with traffic.  Here we were almost killed, as a pick-up truck going over a 100km/hr didn't realize that the Oil tanker in front of us had stopped.  All we heard was squalling tires and then the truck went by at a huge speed into the ditch.  It was a sickening feeling as we heard the locking of his brakes.  Both of us were shaken by the incident.  Sudanese drivers especially in the remote areas are not used to traffic and do not know the capabilities of their vehicle, nor do they have the driving skills.  We had numerous instances were vehicles would pass while we were coming head on, pushing us almost into the ditch.  But this is not any different then most third world countries.  The more north-east we ride the less traffic and more the scenery changes into sand and more sand.  Meroe, did not disappoint us.  An ancient royal cemetery located in the midst of huge sand dunes.  The Meroitic pharaohs built the narrow pyramids at this location for the burial place of the royal.  The site is not kept up and sand is starting to bury most entrances.  Some tombs have well-preserved Hieroglyphics in the tombs' antechambers.  There is a ticket office at the entrance and tickets are $10.00US/person.  Definitely worth the money.  We spent about 1 1/2 hr exploring the pyramids which are spread out over a couple areas.  Locals have set up make shift stalls to sell hand-made crafts.  The people are always very friendly and I purchased a leather necklace, which contained a little book with writing to fend of sickness and evil.  We hang out with the locals for a while. Instead of staying in the desert we decide to head back to Khartoum and stay at the National Campground, which had received better reports from travelers.  Its' location was at the south end of Khartoum.  We arrive at the National Campground around 4pm, exhausted by the heat and making our way through traffic, we are told that the campground is full and to return in 10 days.  It is quite funny to think that we would hang around for 10 days and then return to stay at his campground.  It is definitely a nicer campground then the Blue Nile Sailing Club Campground, through its location is not that great.  Tired we decide to fuel up and head toward the Ethiopian border and try to find a spot in the desert for camping.  Only 70km south of Khartoum, Mike spotted a great location to pitch a tent, far away from the main road in the farmer's field, hidden behind some trees.  We had just cooked some yummy spaghetti with tomato paste as our first visitors made an appearance.  The local farmer stopped in to chat, telling us that he plants tomatoes in the field.  During the night more people passed by with their donkeys, but didn't stop in. We loved camping wild in Sudan.

Nov. 20, 2007.  It is approx. 600km to the border from Khartoum.  We get on the road early in the morning to make it to the border at a decent hour.  We had not yet decided if we would camp before the border or try getting into Ethiopia and then set up camp.  It all depended how good of a time we would make.  The scenery changes the further south we head, more and more brush, scrub and trees.  The houses of the villages are round, made out of straw and mud walls and straw roofs.  We stop for our last Sudanese meal on the side of the road. In Gedaref we turn south-east for the final stretch to the Ethiopian border.  But it is not always that simple of finding a major road, as always we end up at the centre of town, riding through the market.  In the end we did find the paved road out of town.  We arrive at the border at 2pm.  It does not look like any border crossing we have ever seen.  First we have to register with the police station and then we park the motorcycles in front of the Customs Building and are told to wait in a couple of chairs, as the man in charge is having lunch. After 1/2hr we walk over to the immigration office and get our exit stamp and return to the Custom Office to wait another hour before he finally showed up.  It took all of 5 minutes to stamp our carnets and we were officially out of Sudan.


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