Day 144: Er, Why Are You Here?
24.05.09: I stayed in Auberge Du Sahara camping in Dahkla and would thoroughly recommend it. It only cost about a fiver and they even made me dinner. In the morning, twas another bit of shared taxi malarkey to the border. There I met Michel, a French guy heading to Dakar in his van. He took me the killer 3km over no-mans land, and there we waited. And waited. And waited. We had arrived at the border around 11am. By 4pm we had finally got our passports stamped into Maur-f-ing-tania. Seriously. Was the border very busy? Was it hell. I've seen more people at a pro-paedophile rally in a sink estate in Croydon. There is an old Moroccan proverb, A guest is a gift from God. I think there's also a Mauritanian proverb. A guest is about as wanted as blood in your stool. Can I recommend…