Departure from Khartoum and return in Khartoum. The accident with Adrienne and what in rose.

Nth departure on a Gruyere road :
Finally we left. It is 3h pm, we intend to arrive at Kosti in the evening to spend the night there. In front of us of asphalt, the road is good step of problems in sight, we will puff out km Around us the houses are done increasingly rare and start to make place with the irrigated grounds transforming this desert into oasis. But, already the greenery leaves us and we enter the monotony of the plain. Far, on our line, a light light diffraction lets to us guess the Nile. The weather is hot, but the air-conditioning (open windows) so famous of the acadyane makes wonder. We put our Quies balls to avoid finishing deaf, even with 602cm3 one can do one crowned din. Suddenly, some holes appear on the road, Geoffroy is with the orders, it avoids one of them, then two, but cannot avoid a third of it. The car reacts well, in spite of the 35 Liters of gasoline and the 30 Liters of water that we added to him. It should be said that in Khartoum we did housework, sold or gave some useless objects or ustensils. When is in my turn to lead, we make it tower of the car to check the tires by safety measure. Enough oddly, the tire postpones right is deflated and considering its wear that made a few km which we roll like that. However, we did not burst, because there remain 0,8Kg of air in the tire. Seen closely the explanation is simple, the rim became deformed like butter on the famous hole which we had visited.
Using a hammer, fortunately carried for that, we rectify the bazaar after a fashion. The reinflated tire, the rim does not flee almost any more, we can set out again.
A few km and much of holes further, us here is again rectifying one then the other wheel. In short, on the 80Km/h that we intend to make on average, we are reduced to roll slowly and to add all these stops to our average.

First night ****:
As to our (bad) practice we roll night and we arrive on the blows of 10h00 at Kosti. Lost in the city, we do not find obviously the parish in which we intended to spend the night. On the other hand, to ask for our way we challenge guards in faction in front of the buildings of an ONG: the ADRA. After a few minutes of palaver, they spontaneously propose to us to lodge ourselves and call the director, who does not answer, then the director-assistant who does not answer more. Lastly, they call the financial director who arrives 20 minutes later and offers the lodging in a guest-house made up of a large room air-conditioned with shower and mosquito nets to us. Interested by our voyage, it proposes to us even for the following day a visit of their project of water conveyance. In short, great luxury.
Died of hunger, we prepare quickly made a foundation of concrete of spaghettis, which we devour by taking care well not to make us precede in this task by an invasion of locusts. One would believe oneself in the fall of the sheets in autumn, under a tree losing his ornament made up of thousands of these winged small beasts falling from God know-where in our plate.

Courtesy towards the police officers :
Wave to us, great smiles, to slow down and roll to 20 Km/h then to accelerate gently while looking in front of oneself. Here the super method which we adopted during all the way to avoid stopping us at the police stations. It is necessary to say that we are cruel, to travel in full Ramadan east can be easy for us, but for these police poor charged with these checkpoints, it is very tiring to leave its armchair the empty belly. Then, they are agitated and make signs by stirring up the from top to bottom hand to say to us to stop. We answer it always courteously by a great smile and friendly safeties. We hardly take risk because the old Mobylette or the ass which is used to them as vehicle does not make the weight vis-a-vis with our racing car. Once, the agent is on the road, it is thus difficult for us to avoid it. Fortunately, it is not sand-gravel mix bus it is charming (like all the Sudanese agents besides), we present our papers to him which it looks in all the directions, more by curiosity in front of a French passport that by suspicion. The aforementioned passport then passes in the hands of all his/her quite as curious colleagues. They all want to tighten us the grip, to know what makes this strange car in their country, to laugh, shake it and wish us welcome in Sudan. On this, they invite us to remain with them, but it is only 05h pm and we want to still roll a little before installing us to sleep. Arrived at the end of the tar road (all the good things have an end), we request hospitality from the police station which is there. In waiting of the rupture of the fast, the reception is less cordial than at the preceding station, but we are in safety for the night.

Sand and recommendations :
The interruption of asphalt is brutal, in front of us extends an immense track dug from rut to the measurement of the large trucks 38 Tons, 8 driving wheels, which traverse it without stops.
"With a car like that one, you will never pass, it is too low, not powerful enough, one needs one 4 driving wheels, minimum". All these reflexions, and the nightmarish vision of this soft sand track, breaks me a little the moral one. But Geoffroy is trustful, Adrienne is a super case, one will pass it is sure!
As of the first hour of road, we often ensablons ourselves, moreover, badly switched by a catch, we find ourselves on a track reserved for the trucks with terrible ruts on which we have the air of a chip. However, the two wheels of right-hand side on the central slope and those of left in the rut, we go to a train of hell (25km/h). If we slow down it is the immediate stranding. Suddenly, the track narrows, the ground becomes hard like brick and the slope is accentuated, the car could be turned over at any moment. On the left, it passes very close to then touches the edge of the rut and the roots of the trees exposed by the trucks. The wing before which was intact is almost torn off and we miss losing our headlight. But we advance, it is our only Safety.

We have been ensablés for 5 minutes and the engine which overheats and puffs out dust does not start more. Roof of evil chance, arrives opposite us, a yellow monster charged with block. Perched on their goods, about fifteen people look at us incrédules. The 38 Tons with the stop, they go down all to leave us the track in two times three movements. By signs, they explain us why we are not on the good track, because this one is that of the trucks, that of the cars is further.

Leader of the Khartoum-Chad rally :
Good average: 25 km in 4 hours, only comfort, the landscape, we enter raised, strewn savanna that and there by some baobab trees.

The city of In Nahoud is some share by-there with some km hardly. But we are once more ensablé and the night starts to fall. Time to empty the car, to remove sand with the shovel and the hands, to put the famous carpets which enable us to make 2 even 3 meters, then to start again until managing to climb on the grassy slope and it makes night.
To advance, we have to leave the track become impracticable. Blow, we sail on the edge in tall grasses. It grows dark, the headlights, which light the sky, are due after a fashion to with tensioners, and after us far away from the track for to be circumvented a field, we zigzag merrily through the trees, too not knowing which star to follow. After half an hour, we are definitively lost and we decide to camp there. In a few minutes, we prepare our first night in the bush with beautiful star. We do not know what awaits us, which are the animals nor people whom we could meet. Only, by far in far, an ass answering a dog comforts us by showing us that a form of domesticated life is possible in the medium of these high grasses and these bushes of thorn-bush. In order to restore us, we unpack quickly our table, our chairs, our campbeds and we prepare our meal. Illuminated by the candles, eating a met of which I will conceal the receipt, we rejouons a scene of Out Of Africa, but without silverwares nor the servants.

The way of the asses :
The first hours of the day of the following day are terrible, 15 km separate us from In Nahoud. 15 km of sand. Not a moment of respite, ensabler, to leave, shovel, push, jump in the car which runs already and to start again a few meters further. After In Nahoud the road is also despairing. But we found the way of the asses. Constituted of one or two traces cleared in the medium of high grasses, they have the undeniable advantage of not being plowed by powerful 4x4. We thus advance much more quickly. But sometimes, a field, whose fence consists of branches of thorn-bush (one would say harrows rather so much the spines are tall), bars us the road. It is necessary for us then to remove this fence to sweep the ground with the foot and to penetrate in the beautiful medium of a field of millet (large like corn) or of hibiscus (small plants with red flower which is used to make hot or cold and completely delicious tea).
At the exit of a village we let us not can about it any more, in front of a sea of sand which literally swallowed us, we decide to leave at the edge of the way all that overloads us. Tee-shirts, biros, trousers, shoes, table and other artifices which are useful only in Out Of Africa, but not in the bush with a acadyane. The result is immediate, we advance better. The road it also becomes better. I start a little to take again confidence and not to function more as an automat which pushes or clears sand. I am content that Geoffroy carried me during all this time. The only prospect to find me blocked, without anything to repair my burst tire or a mechanical problem, sapped me the moral one. We must be for the end of the month in Cameroun and we have 3000 more km of track before being there, it is maliciously necessary to believe in it and until today I left my brain takes care about it to believe in it.

Some pips always decorate an exit in the bush ! :
For some time the car starts with difficulty, we have to even push it once to make it start. By chance, sand was not too soft in this place and she agreed to set out again after a few painful meters.
Very of a blow, plus nothing! I turn the key but nothing occurs. Galère! And if we test the crank again! The first time that we had tested it, the bumper, that we had put at the front one, prevented us to use it. This blow, we have more chance. As by miracle it returns until the end and after some turns, the car starts. Saved, as long as we will have force in the arms, the car will be able to start.

Further, we are in high grasses, we do not see anything but we advance on a more or less firm surface, we do not feel sorry for. All the graminaceous ones of savanna produce in this season of the thousands of more or less large seeds which infiltrate everywhere in the engine. The air filter in is full and we must empty it regularly. Worse, of time to other, a small smell of burning recalls us nicely that the starter is surely not the last problem and that it is necessary to pay attention to these grasses which choke the engine which, overheated, could start a bush fire. Moreover, in a millet field, a rebellious stem finished by us tearing off our gasoline filter. We will a little further notice it because of a gasoline odor stronger than usually. Fortunately at this time precise, there was not small burned grass odor if not that had been the catastrophe. We lost only a few liters of gasoline, but we must henceforth pay attention to all.

A thatch can in hiding another :
It is 03h00 pm, Geoffroy has just passed the wheel to me. After a few minutes, we roll on the edge of the track and as we have just given from the gasoline in the tank (Adrienne consumes almost 2 times more on soft sand), Geoffroy says to me "pay attention, I do not look at more the road, I raise the km", we roll in 20-25 Km/h aucuns dangers in sight. And yet, very of a blow, stopped Net in my race, I find myself the nose in the windshield. All goes very quickly, in some split seconds I wonder why Adrienne does not want to advance any more and why me which does not like the windshields inevitably, I find myself to embrace that one with ardour.
"I have the pété neck!". The cry of Geoffroy brings back for me rather quickly to reality. When I turn to him, I see it being held the neck with the two hands and trying to want to leave the car. I then precipitate other side to help it to leave and lengthen it with a few meters from there, in the shade of a tree.
Around us nothing. Finally nothing. There are well grass, some trees and sand. But not of terminal of help, not of Samu or cop. No the doctor, not of telephone. Ah if! There is me. The few concepts which remain me of my AFPS (first aid) return me quickly to the spirit.
1. to mark out the perimeter to avoid any other accident with other vehicles made (there I was particularly fast!)
2. To call the Euh helps.... I pass... question following
3. To occupy themselves of the victims and to comfort them either There, not problem since me I am not panicked at all.... finally almost not...

I thus run to the car to leave a bed camp and to lengthen Geoffroy there. On this bed of improvised hospital, I begin a sounding worthy of the largest Parisian professors. Geoffroy, hears me, sees me and can go. Lengthened, it can move all its members, it does not have a nosebleed, nor of ears, it can very painfully move the neck and with palpation, its cervical does not appear in crumbs. If it has something, it is thus can be a cracked vertebra. Here I am not more advanced than that but at least I am not anxious any more.

After him to have given water, a compress to refresh the face to him and to have washed to him the face with eau de Cologne lingettes (and yes there was even that), I leave in direction a roof hut which I believed to see a little further.
After grinds explanations (not obvious to explain that in sign), the inhabitants of the gourbi located at 500m of the accident, harness a carriole with which they will lead Geoffroy in the doctor located nearest at 8Km behind us. The way is likely to be very painful for Geoffroy, but we hardly have the choice.
Towards 09h00 pm, two men arrive on their asses with three tools. They are mechanics and want to repair the car. I do not know absolutely from where they leave, nor which sent them, but they are there, and they are persuaded to be able all to repair.
The car is always on the edge of the track, the high stock which it embraces explains me the accident. Occupied to check if I could recover the track which was on my line, I did not see this stock playing with hide-and-seek with grasses of savanna.
The bumper took the shape of the tree, the ventilator also and the frame is twisted in its most advanced part. By chance (or good organization, which knows!), we have a ventilator of replacement. Why not try the blow? "Go ahead the guy, here the parts, here how it is necessary to dismount, here tools, good courage".
Towards 10h00 pm, Geoffroy returns from the village, in fact of doctor, it met an assistant doctor and a police officer. One advised to him 7 days of rest without any sounding (hefty man the guy) other established an accident report without seeing the car (idem). The Sudanese who accompanied it nicely proposes me to be accompanied at the town of Ghubeish early the following day.
Whereas Geoffroy remains lengthened close to the car, my guide and me let us be taken in stop by employees of the firm Sudatel (télécoms Sudanese). Stroke of luck, they all speak English. They are on mission in the area to install Spanish lightning conductors via an Indian company (one sees of all in Sudan).
After some explanations, they propose to us to come to recover the car with us, to lodge us (with beautiful star, but in safety behind a wall) and to help us for any other problem.

Eight days of trubles or how to lose weight without making sport :
During the first days, Geoffroy tries to recover accident while remaining lengthened as much as possible. The car was summarily repaired (after reassembly they me gave a handle of screw and nuts which they did not know any more where to put) but I alas discovered a small hole in the gear box. It would thus be necessary to dismount all the engine to repair it. Geoffroy with then a luminous idea, to exchange the car against three asses and to return to Khartoum to back of ass. We could do it in 15 days and it would be a good manners not to remain on a failure. Another possibility, to repair the car and to put it on a truck until Nyala (300Km more with the West and 300Km before the Chadian border), where the road becomes better and to continue towards Chad. But all the buildings disadvise that to us, because, according to them, the road is very dangerous after Nyala.
All these solutions are quickly put in day before when four days after our arrival with Ghubeish, Geoffroy who begins a diarrhoea, breaks down while leaving the toilets. It should be said that it is dehydrated by its diarrhoea and that several successive passage in these toilets, without ventilation and who are built on the pit skeptic, have very to come to end from hardest. It has fever and can nothing swallow, the following day evening in front of the list of diseases which the Sudaneses diagnosed (of which the malaria "which is mortal in the area when she starts with the belly...") we will see a doctor. Fortunately, it diagnoses only one good diarrhoea and prescribed drug that Geoffroy cannot still swallow (it vomits all). While leaving the known as consultation, I am taken of a fever and I begin in my turn a diarrhoea, but less severe.
It is only the following day that Geoffroy will be able to swallow his first pill and some biscuits.
Specified that the town of 30000 inhabitants does not offer many food choices to us. One finds there limp of tuna, rice, the pastes, the bread, of jam, some vegetables of season, the Coke and the tea. Good-bye small melba toasts and stewed apples, water out of bottle or herb teas. Live the fast!
After these a few days all our ideas of return or starting are swept, we do not have enough of time to join Cameroun, it is necessary for us to go back to Khartoum and to bring back with us the car. Because if we give up it here, we will not be able to prove in this expensive Automobile Club of France that we did not sell it and that they must return to us the exorbitant guarantee of 3800 euros which is blocked on their premises.

With the search for a truck :
During nearly seven days we will seek a truck suitable for take us along to Khartoum with the car. The famous 38T of which we already spoke, usually does that, they hoist the car all in top of the bags in hessian which they transport, it is rather impressive. Still is necessary it to find of them one which would have place in this season of harvests! Ali, the mechanic of the corner which speaks English and which became our friend, helps us in this task and promises to us amongst other things that one of his/her friends will arrive in half an hour with an empty truck. We will await this truck during 7 days and I think that the next year will still await we it. To fill this waiting, we meet faces of the water of which famous hollow Baobab (see notebook of the initiatives).
We meet also another Ali responsible for ONG Care for a project for complete restoration for a hundred for stations for pumping in the province. It is an old man of the old woman who already did much project for water, in particular of the revolutionary haffirs close to El Obeid.
Tired to have incredible proposals for the repatriation of the car, we propose with ONG Care to inherit it. Having badly included/understood our offer, they start by refusing what makes us panic during one half-day. In the afternoon, Ali, the hydraulic engineer, who was not the morning there returns to see us to have further details. Having understood that we offer to him for his project of water a splendid car, it accepts and in the tread it makes us meet the commission agent of the province for official papers and our departure organizes us the evening even for Khartoum.

Return to the box departure, us the Parisian winter !
Of passage in the town of El Obeid, we are accomodated by the Care antenna which is there. Without hesitating, Ahmed Abbo, leader haffirs project, cancel all its go to make us visit various types of haffirs (see notebook of the initiatives).
Our stay in Khartoum will be much less interesting than the first. We hoped to meet other ONG there, but the outward journeys and returns in the corridors of the customs administration or the travel agencies will take far too much time to us.
November 27, we take off finally of Khartoum in Paris direction where a short stopover should enable us to meet the schools which follow us and to start again our sponsors.
The next stage is Brazil, highly the return in the southern hemisphere. It appears that the weather is cold in Paris.

Newspaper of October 29 at November 27, 2003 by Loïc

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