A journey is a gesture inscribed in space, it vanishes even as it's made. You go from one place to another place, and on to somewhere else again, and already behind you there is no trace that you were ever there. - Damon Galgut

25 February 2020, dusty hut to Tiwilit, 40.5km
Auberge El Gareh UM500 (R200)

It was a difficult night, between the howling wind and the dust blown by it into the hut. I suppose we should have erected our tent and taken refuge beneath the flysheet, but we thought initially we would be OK without it and simply inflated our mattresses and crawled under our sleeping bags. It was the wrong thing to do. By the time we awoke, our hair and faces were caked with dust, our noses and ears and mouths clogged with it, our eyes grimed and gritty. So much dust had been deposited during the night hours that we could not easily find some of the items we had left on the floor beside our camp bed.
It was, as has become usual, a windy ride, though not quite as daunting or dusty as yesterday. Still windy enough, however, to give us sea legs. Yes, sea legs. You know… the slight wobble you get when stepping from a boat onto solid land; we experienced the same sensation stepping from our bikes. It must be something to do with leaning into the wind, blowing strongly from the side, which disorients your sense of balance. And windy enough too, to dry our eyes, wet our noses, and drill through our ears, in this case, our right ears!
We did around 40 quiet kms to Tiwilit, a tiny hamlet, just a couple of shops, a petrol station, a few houses and a basic auberge, overpriced. Surrounded by a sea of empty plastic bottles. We were stopped and our details recorded twice by the police today, one asking where we had slept last night and another coming to check on us at the auberge this evening. I guess it’s not good to lose a cyclist.
Our auberge room, a stand alone square hut with a four sided roof coming to a high point, has a carpeted floor and thin mattresses on it. The ceiling is fabric-covered and although there is equipment for solar electricity, we in fact had no light. At the far end of the dusty complex are three toilets, only one of which is open. It is a squat loo with enough space for a bucket bath. The door that closes it is no longer hanging from its hinges and needs to be carefully balanced in the doorway for privacy (not that there is anyone around). The young man who runs the auberge, also runs a small shop across the road from which we stocked up on snacks and cold drinks. When we asked him about water, desperate for a bath on this our third day without, he brought us two empty buckets and gestured to the water bladder lying between the auberge and the road. We later asked him to come and fill them for us, anxious we might incorrectly open or close the access point and drain the bladder. He had a lovely smile and just enough English to try and tell us how much we owed when we shopped.
Flies have been both prevalent and persistent the last couple of days; a real annoyance. They pester you whenever and wherever you stop, but also travel with you, sucking at any dampness around mouth or nose or eyes.
It has been overcast for three days - yay.

For today's route see below photos
For overview route, click on ROUTE tab above…