We want to hit the road early and meet at the rooftop restaurant of the Bourgainvilla Guesthouse for a sunrise breakfast. By this time Mollo is already airborne on the way back to Steinau. We quickly finish up and get a warm sending off from the guesthouse staff and sundry – one quick fuel stop and we are on our way deeper into Africa. It is a big day in the Sudan as the Eid celebrations get under way. All the Nomads have brought their sheep and goats to market and all the villages we are passing are bustling. The general idea that the animal gets killed in the morning, 1/3 will be eaten on the 
day, 1/3 will be kept for the next days and 1/3 given to the poor who cannot afford their own beast.
We follow the GPS coordinates of a Japanese motor cyclist as we look out to the Blue Nile on our left. At Wad Medani we cross the Blue Nile to reach Gedaref but after one hour of driving as the road extents into the horizon and habitation and other traffic retreat doubts creep into our minds about where exactly we are. It is 40 C when we stop to empty the last jerry cans into the tank. In this great void complaints are being made about the ghastly music that is coming off Ian’s Ipod and Frank and
Colin thoughts go back to the days when Mollo was DJing.
At long last Gedaref comes in sight and we roll through the town centre as all residents seem to be out on the streets. This is the first town with a more (black) Afrikan rather than Arab feeling to it. A quick fuel stop and we are on our way to the border town of Gallabat.
day, 1/3 will be kept for the next days and 1/3 given to the poor who cannot afford their own beast.We follow the GPS coordinates of a Japanese motor cyclist as we look out to the Blue Nile on our left. At Wad Medani we cross the Blue Nile to reach Gedaref but after one hour of driving as the road extents into the horizon and habitation and other traffic retreat doubts creep into our minds about where exactly we are. It is 40 C when we stop to empty the last jerry cans into the tank. In this great void complaints are being made about the ghastly music that is coming off Ian’s Ipod and Frank and
Colin thoughts go back to the days when Mollo was DJing.At long last Gedaref comes in sight and we roll through the town centre as all residents seem to be out on the streets. This is the first town with a more (black) Afrikan rather than Arab feeling to it. A quick fuel stop and we are on our way to the border town of Gallabat.
The sun now already hangs low in the sky and the smell of African veld is lifing our spirits when we take the decision to complete our journey 
even in darkness. Soon we are driving under the stars and moon. Traveller in Africa be aware that travelling in the night is a dangerous business. The main dangers are animals (goats, sheep, donkeys, et al) crossing the road, hugh potholes, oncoming traffic and indeed blinded by oncoming traffic a collision with donkey cart is juuust being avoided. We don’t want to take chance and reduce the travelling speed from 80 to 60 km/h thereby further delaying our arrival. As we come closer to the border the frequency of army check points increases. At one we are being stopped for 5 minutes as the officer in charge disappears talking on his mobile. We are left with an eerie feeling as we listen to the cricett‘s concert in the bush. Finally we get the all clear and we can pass. The border is only 30km away and we seem to be the only ones travelling on this road when another LED light signals us to stop.
It’s just one soldier armed with an AK47. He speaks no English bu
t climbs on board and we understand we are to drive on. The three of us are in front he is is in back. We are hughely reliefed when we reach a further army post and he climbs out of the Borgi. We round this event off with a photoshoot.
Finally we reach the day’s objective – Gallabat. Here everybody is dead nice as the customs officers do not mind to stamp the carnet de passage well after official opening hours. We are invited to park infront of the customs building and to a puff from their Shisha. A quick dinner and into the sleeping bags we go – hold the page – the excitment is not over yet as loud explosions go off in the near distance and the sky is illuminated by an orange glow. The next day we hear it was fireworks others claim it was a burning church. Who knows....
even in darkness. Soon we are driving under the stars and moon. Traveller in Africa be aware that travelling in the night is a dangerous business. The main dangers are animals (goats, sheep, donkeys, et al) crossing the road, hugh potholes, oncoming traffic and indeed blinded by oncoming traffic a collision with donkey cart is juuust being avoided. We don’t want to take chance and reduce the travelling speed from 80 to 60 km/h thereby further delaying our arrival. As we come closer to the border the frequency of army check points increases. At one we are being stopped for 5 minutes as the officer in charge disappears talking on his mobile. We are left with an eerie feeling as we listen to the cricett‘s concert in the bush. Finally we get the all clear and we can pass. The border is only 30km away and we seem to be the only ones travelling on this road when another LED light signals us to stop.It’s just one soldier armed with an AK47. He speaks no English bu
t climbs on board and we understand we are to drive on. The three of us are in front he is is in back. We are hughely reliefed when we reach a further army post and he climbs out of the Borgi. We round this event off with a photoshoot.Finally we reach the day’s objective – Gallabat. Here everybody is dead nice as the customs officers do not mind to stamp the carnet de passage well after official opening hours. We are invited to park infront of the customs building and to a puff from their Shisha. A quick dinner and into the sleeping bags we go – hold the page – the excitment is not over yet as loud explosions go off in the near distance and the sky is illuminated by an orange glow. The next day we hear it was fireworks others claim it was a burning church. Who knows....
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