GUpdate : 11.12.2005
Place : Axum / Ethiopia
Day : 57
Distance : 9,890km

Dear friends,
As you have noticed there have been delays in my updates for a while now. First I went through a rough patch after leaving Egypt, and then I encountered some technical issues that prevented me from accessing the data (text and images) in my laptop. All of this meant I had to fit in a lot of things in a shorter time span than intended to in order to make up for the time wasted, so I could not spare enough time to work properly on my updates. As a result my last Egypt update had obvious errors, which I suppose you have noticed, in grammar, format, spelling, wording, style…

I want to avoid these kinds of errors which adversely affect the quality of my writings so I will refrain from hurrying up my Sudan update and the breathtaking adventures and stories of hardship as I hinted previously.

In addition, I will have to send my updates without pictures via my satellite phone, since in Ethiopia, where I currently am, there is very limited internet access. This will have to be the way at least for this first Sudan update you are reading right now. The images will follow when I find suitable internet facilities.
I apologize for the unforeseen issues and technical difficulties. I hope you all didn't / won't get cold feet from these delays and stop following my webpage. Actually the decrease in the number of messages I receive from you is an indicator that the initial interest to my website might have dwindled due to these delays.

Don't forget; one of the most important sources of moral support is the messages I get from you. Please don't leave me without…

Asswan - Wadi Halfa Ferry Trip
Last I left where we were on the ferry and organized seating on the top deck for the evening chatter. But before moving on from there, I need to back up to the boarding experience; the first stage of this ferry trip which turned out to be the first of the two most worrisome parts of my journey so far. Boarding the ferry was a challenge in its own right. Passengers and porters trying to get in and empty-handed porters trying to get out, and the staff on duty trying to bring some kind of order to this boarding madness; all entangled at the door which allows passage to only one person at a time. When we finally forced ourselves in and stepped on the mud on the deck I realized I also put my foot on African soil. Africa here we come!

I didn't tell you that I arrived in Africa when I got off the boat in Egypt's Port Nuweiba. From Sinai Peninsula forwards it didn't feel at all like I was in Africa despite the fact that geographically and politically speaking, Egypt is indeed a part of the African continent. From the reactions of the Egyptians with whom I talked about my trip, I could see that this misperception was not entirely unfounded: "What! You are going to Africa??"

It was impossible to see anything inside since we were blinded by the bright midday sun outside so we tried to find our way fumbling in the dark, careful not to slip and fall on the muddy floor. Gingerly stepping on the stairs I went up to the next deck. We entered the corridor where the first class cabins were and somewhat escaped the chaos a little.

The first check was the toilets in the first class. The result is just as depressing as I expected. The next disappointment is the cabin door with no key. When I query I get the reply: "Everyone takes their key with them when they leave so we don't have any keys left." Does this mean we can't leave our stuff in the cabin? Thank God, Chris has a padlock so we will be able to chain our backpacks. We will just have to see how good that will do. Once we "secured" our luggage we went up to the top deck and joined Nando (the Catalonian cyclist).

Here I want to tell you a bit about the "world travelers". Why here, because Asswan - Wadi Halfa passage is like a funnel mouth. Anyone who travels along East Africa and follows the Egypt-Sudan route (generally preferred by most) within the same week has to board the same ferry so they get to meet and greet each other. Since the beginning of the trip - with the exception of Chris - this was the first time I got to meet other overlanders. Most of these people have passed through the route I have and been to the same cities but our paths never crossed since we stayed at different hotels and passed through the same points on different dates and times, etc, yet at this point in time we are all on the same ferry. There are so many interesting people among this group; I am not sure how their adventures will be labeled by those who describe my trip as "insane". I have been doing research on similar trips for the last 1.5 years and I thought I was familiar with all sorts of unusual travel stories. Still I am amazed by the stories of people I meet and or stories of other people that they tell me about. The most interesting I came across was Nando's, thanks to this ferry trip. Traveling around the world for 10 years is a discipline which calls for character attributes that go far beyond courage and determination. In the meantime, I realize that I forgot to tell you how old Nando is: 45. Someone else I met, an Italian, has been on a 24-month journey around the world only traveling on land and sea via public transport or hitchhiking. He has another 7 months to go. In late hours of the night as he admitted to missing his home and family so much, I swear I felt he shed a few tears in the dark. Another interesting travel story comes from a couple in their 60ies. They sold everything they had and began to travel around the world, without setting a time limit to their travel. When I was chatting away with Chris and Nando, Chris told me that this is a life style; a matter of choice. Being constantly on the move, seeing new places, meeting new people, as opposed to living a settled life with family and friends in familiar surroundings. Having a stressful work life to guarantee a future or living day by day without worrying about old age? Is it only a compulsion to "explore" or a "search" for something, maybe not even known to the individual himself? Is it lack social interaction in their communities which force people get out there and meet new people and learn about civilizations or maybe seek relationships that they are missing? I do not know. Maybe you will ask, "So what was your reason then?" I have told you about it a bit on the first page of my site. But I will put my thinking hat on at the end of my trip, analyze it all and share all the findings with you. After that a "Forum" will go online, as some of you are expecting. And then "Bring it on!"

So how do these travelers survive? First they have totally cleared their minds of any concerns for their future. They don't have any plans and more interestingly any worries about life after retirement. They raise the necessary funds to continue their travels by finding some temporary work when they run out. By "necessary funds" they mean a daily $10.00 -15.00. For instance, Nando's daily budget is EUR10.00.

We went down to the dining hall for dinner. After a 1.5 hour wait we ate our meal which consisted of soup, ful and salad, the Sudanian way. Ful is a traditional Sudan dish. They bake fava beans in a special pot over wood fire. Then add onions, tomatoes and mash it using the "bottom of a bottle" (I guess this method gives it more flavor because everywhere they use the bottom of the soft drink bottles to make this particular dish) and then they serve the dish. You have to eat it with bread and using your hands, but remember to use your right hand.

Our evening chat under the stars went well into late hours. Back in the cabin I had a peaceful sleep, never mind it was short, with the sounds of water through the open porthole.

We arrived at the port of Wadi Halfa at around 12:30 the next day. Kemal Hassan Osman greeted us during our passport and customs control procedures. He grinned from ear to ear when he heard that we were a group of 7 cars and 1 motorbike. Kemal Hassan helps travelers with vehicles go through the customs formalities in return for a "variable" fee. We went through the customs and arrived at the village on foot after a 2km walk. There are 3 hotels in the village; Nil Hotel, recommended by Kemal Hassan, Deffintoad Hotel and a third. All three are identical, consisting of rooms (or sections) with sun-dried brick walls, lined up next to each other facing a courtyard. In each room there is a bed and if you are lucky a mattress on it. Most of the rooms have earth floor and only the luxury ones have concrete. Toilet and shower are both outside and are for common use. Water is carried into the rooms. Each room accommodates 3 or 4 people. If you have less than 3 people in a room you have to either cover the cost of the entire room or otherwise need to be ready to meet new friends to share the room with. We (Chris, Nando and I) fit into a 3-person room with all our stuff and Nando's bicycle.


Wadi Halfa Hotel Deffintoad

Before Asswan High Dam was constructed Wadi Halfa was a beautiful settlement area approximately 63 km to the north of its current location, on the banks of Nile. It was surrounded by plenty of greenery and its inhabitants were mainly farmers. As water filled up the Asswan reservoir it was buried under water along with 30 more villages. These were all Nubian villages. The Nubians who lost their homes were relocated to different areas. Unfortunately Nubians in Sudan were not as lucky as the Nubians in Egypt. Apart from the few locals who chose to remain in the current Wadi Halfa settlement area, the rest were relocated to the banks of Atbara River near the city of Kassala in the eastern part of Sudan. But another dam turned their lives upside down in their new homes. Their rich soils were washed away by the erosion caused by the Atbara Dam. Wadi Halfa was once the starting point of the Khartoum railway project commissioned in 1897 by the British commander Kitchener as an essential part of a plan to invade Sudan; its population was trained for the construction of the railway, hence it experienced rapid growth and modernization. After the construction of Asswan Dam it vanished with its inhabitants scattered around, and now in its place stands a little village fighting for survival, depending on the ferry that comes once a week from Egypt. Wadi Halfa is a tiny place which has a very friendly atmosphere and warm, welcoming inhabitants so we spent a very pleasant 3 days while we waited for our vehicle. The rumors that the barge was coming made me waste a few hours at the port everyday but nevertheless Chris, Nando and I still got to visit the nearby Nubian village, see the kids at school, and drink the very popular aromatic teas made and served by the local girls.

Our fuls ready, waiting to be served	Selma, a tea lady of Wadi Halfa

It was a Tuesday when we arrived in Wadi Halfa and the next day we went to a nearby village on foot. We receive a warm welcome from every Sudanian we come across. This village doesn't usually receive any guests since most of them remain in the town because of the ferry so initially they watched the visiting "white men" timidly from their semi-ajar doors but as they got more comfortable they began to gather around us. We couldn't turn down those who invited us to their homes for tea, in return we offered the cookies we brought with us.

Kiddies in Halfa

Youth of Halfa

One of the youth took us to the primary school in the village. The principal introduced us to each teacher and showed us the classrooms. Depending on the number of students in each class, boys and girls either sit in separate classrooms or separate sections within the same classroom. After giving us information about the school and the lessons, principal walked us all the way to the door and bid us goodbye.


Students at the primary school. A little timid, a little curious...


The principal. His pride in his school, teachers and students is apparent

On Thursday we were told that the barge carrying the vehicles would be entering the port around noon. We left for the port with a view to be there at 13:00 and after a little while Henrik (the Swedish guy who was one of the people that decided to travel on the barge) called me from my satellite phone and told me the barge has arrived. Unloading of the vehicles began at 13:30 and all the formalities were completed by 18:00. Thinking it wouldn't be very sensible to get on the road after that time, we decided to enjoy our last night and leave early the next day. Following a pleasant meal and chat over tea we retired to our rooms to spend the last night in our comfy hotel.

Wadi Halfa-Khartoum Adventure
The next morning (Friday, November 25) we left at about 7:30. We would have our breakfast on the road. Nando wanted to join us for the 400km road to Gondola so as to avoid that which could become a torture to the point that it could even put his life at risk. So I prepared the third "backup" seat for him. We tied his bicycle securely on top of the two spare tires on the roof and put his bags at the back. I don't think a Land Rover Defender 110 could be loaded any more than this. The entire space inside is almost full.

We made a quick stop for breakfast not long after leaving Halfa and started off on the famous 400 km road between Wadi Halfa and Dongola. The goal is to cover this distance in two days. Our first stop for the first night is at Abri, halfway on the 400 km road.

This road is so rough it has always been a nightmare for those traveling across Africa. Its entire length is in the desert, winding around the rocks occasionally jutting up high out of the desert sand. The gravel surface of the road has ripples and bumps due to impact from the tires of trucks and buses. This structure is called "corrugation" and it is the best way to loosen all kinds of joints of both the vehicle and its passengers, snap and break all suspension and steering mechanisms. When the corrugation is in its early stages or formation, you don't feel it at certain speeds (50 - 60 kmph) because the natural vibration of the suspension system matches the vibration of the corrugation. But as the corrugation depth increases and the crests of the ridges get sharper, no matter what your speed is you and your vehicle will feel the road with your entire being. You see, this 400km road is severely corrugated all the way through. So you have to travel maintaining a low speed (10-15kmph) and deflate the tires a little for the tires to partially absorb the impact and prevent some of the damage to the car. Naturally this will increase the risk of cutting tires on sharp gravel; especially for those, who unlike me have not opted for "rock solid tires".


Trucks / buses that ruin the road (Photo by Chris White)

Or else, you can try your luck by leaving the road to get on the desert sand when suitable and use the softness of the sand to increase your speed, provided that you don't get lost. Should I attempt this though, given the fact that with my car is now 250 kg heavier with Chris, Nando and their luggage and the tires aren't suitable for sand? Encouraged by the presence of 2 others in the car; I drove towards the desert sand along the side of the road. I got on the sandy terrain a little too fast so as not to lose the momentum but subsequently decided to reduce the speed after we all felt the heavy impact of stones and rocks buried in the sand. Sand becomes as fine as powder at times, enveloping the car like a cloud as you drive through dropping visibility to zero. Then it becomes so soft and deep that your tires can barely drag the bottom of the car on it. Even so, despite the inconvenience caused by the weight and the tires (a little deflated but still) we still didn't get seriously stuck in the sand. In a couple of incidents when it looked like we could get stuck, auxiliary transmission saved us. My Land Rover managed to pull itself out of it every time. To be honest I was quite proud. Of course my driving skills helped a little. :)

As I was cruising on the sand, about 2 km to the east of the main road, I spotted a car sitting on the road. When we looked through binoculars we saw that it was Henrik and his crew (the Swedish guys) who passed us at the beginning of the road. We went back on the road and drove back towards them to find out what was going on. Speed spells trouble. Their auxiliary fuel tank came off due to high speed on that road and they were trying to tie it back on. Soon the others from the group also caught up with us. After a short break we started back on the road and everyone took off and disappeared again.


Group waiting for Henrik's vehicle to get fixed

Following a mighty struggle which lasted non-stop for nine hours in and out of sand, we arrived in Abri just an hour before sunset. Quickly bought bread and some fresh foods and found ourselves a spot outside of the village to set up our camp. Nando is the designated chef. After buying the ingredients for the meal and digging out the kitchen utensils I was then handed a cold drink and told to sit, kick back and relax. Dinner was followed by a chat partly carried out in sleeping bags while watching the stars. When we woke up with the first light in the morning Nando was already preparing to boil water for tea/coffee.


First rays of daylight - Nando already in the process of boiling water

The road to Gondola was just as rough and exhausting as it was in the first day. The only diversion was a 1-hour "ferry" trip we had in Argo, from east bank of the Nile to the west. The trip on this mini-ferry which can only carry a total of 3 cars (they call it "panton" modified from the English word "pontoon") was a "refreshing" break to the exhausting drive.


We are crossing Nile with a "Panton"

We arrived at Lord Hotel in Dongola where some others from the group were also staying at. Our "uncle" Luc from Holland assumes his usual role of "protector" and takes us to the police station, his car at the front, ours right behind it. In Sudan you have to register with the police in every city you stay overnight. Otherwise the hotels don't give you rooms. The registering is done on behalf of you by the big and expensive hotels (like Hilton, Meridien, etc) but the smaller ones expect you to do it. If you are camping you don't have to register. The first thing we did after settling in was to take shower. This was my sixth day in a row without a shower. The dust combined with the extensive sweating during the last two days formed a layer on our skin on top of the previous layers, and now it was beginning to peel off in flakes as we moved our arms and legs. Naturally it was difficult to get rid of it.

In the evening we had a filling meal consisting of ful and falafel, and returned to our hotel. The next day we will begin the third and last leg of the road to the capital city.

Sunday, November 27: Nando left us today. He will start pedaling alone again. After a quick breakfast we bid our goodbyes and get on the road. This road looks like it will be asphalt paved for the first 50 km starting from Dongola, then gravel for about 80 - 100 km and then asphalt paved again all the way to Khartoum. In fact up until the last 150 km of the 567km road to Khartoum, it was exactly like the way it was described. But this last part was paved in a very unusual way. When paving they have left holes in between. Or maybe they didn't but the holes appeared on the road themselves. Don't think they are needle holes. Some can fit a tire in and some are big enough to swallow an entire car. Sometimes they are 20-30cm deep so you can't drive through. At places there are only a few and scattered far from each other, at places there are a whole bunch together. Solution, get on the sand track on the side of the road. The interior of my car is already covered with a thick layer of dust…

After a rough 3-day trip finally we arrive in Khartoum at about 21:00. We go to the police station to register and we find out that it is closed. We find the hotel easily. They let us stay for the night. Tomorrow we will do the registration.

Khartoum and the "Black Monday"
Destination is the central police station first thing in the morning. I want to drive there, not sure why. I find out later -a little too late- that it is in fact not that far away. It is sweltering hot and the traffic is congested. Thank God they do not use their horns the way they do in Egypt. I feel down and exhausted due to lack of sleep for the last two days and the rough 3-day drive. I suddenly feel drained. I feel like parking the car and walk. It is only a few steps -according to the GPS- anyway. I scan the surroundings; there are soldiers with their heavy machine guns set up at the intersection, just a little further down (we are on a one way street) I read the Ministry of Information sign. Across from it there is another heavily guarded government building. I park my car just in front of the entrance to Ministry of Information, behind two other parked cars. I also tell Chris that I just have no energy to drive. We get out of the car. Everything is in the car; GPS connected, camera bag is right behind the two front seats, my briefcase is laying face down in front of my seat. In it I have my laptop, satellite phone, triptyque documents, and my notebook and the Egypt guide book along with some other small stuff.

We go to the police station; they are on a lunch break. We walk towards the marketplace to have a bite to eat and check our messages, leaving the car parked where it was. Approximately an hour later we return to get the registration done. I have my passport with me but I forgot to take my passport photo. I leave Chris on the corner of the street and walk towards the car. There is something amiss on the driver's side window. Its color looks different; hollow in the middle… First I couldn't figure it out, or maybe just didn't want to think about it. Then it dawns on me, the window is broken! I immediately check inside. GPS is still there, so is my camera bag… Ok, what else? My briefcase is gone. It took my mind a while to click on the reality of things but in the meantime my gestures must have been rather unusual because people started to gather around me, even though they paid no attention to a broken window earlier. As I recall the contents of my briefcase I also begin to realize the extent of the damage.

- Nearly 1,500 photos I have taken since I left Istanbul,

- All my writings,

- The program required to "download" the information on my GPS,

- All my GPS maps to use for the remaining part of my trip,

- The charger to use next to charge my MP3 player,

- My laptop to write my updates and download and transfer photos,

- My car's triptyque document required to leave Sudan and enter and exit other countries,

- My satellite phone that I used for communicating when my GSM phone was out of coverage.

I have lost all these and it was impossible to replace some of these (like photos). I was going mad. I was yelling at people around me and swearing at the soldier who was waiting at the intersection and came over when he heard me yelling… Some guy, later I found out that he was a painter, tried to console me and took me in his car, got one of the soldiers to stand watch over my car and we left for the police station.


When I saw my car like this, it took me a while to register what happened (Photo by Chris White)

At the police station I told several police officers of various ranks many times who I was, where I was coming from, why I came to Sudan, what happened and how it happened. They all jotted down the information I gave them, as well as my passport details. But my patience ran out when I had to go over the same things again with the last police officer. I told them, with a little harsh tone of voice, that my car was sitting on the street with a broken window; if anything else disappears from inside my car I was going to hold them responsible, in which case I was not going to stop short of complaining to any and every authority, including the minister. Mustering all the strength I could, I also added that I was writing about my travels for a magazine in Turkey and that I was going to include this incident and their completely nonchalant attitude in my article. I reminded them that this was not going to particularly look good for Sudan. I think these last words attracted their attention a little. The highest ranking officer among them (he had 3 stars so I will refer to him as Captain) tried to calm me down, told me that he would assign someone to go with me to get the car. When we arrived at the car, Chris was sitting on a wall nearby and looking at me with a confused expression. He said he returned to the car an hour ago and there was no one keeping an eye on it. There you go! Take a soldier who did nothing to stop a theft that happened right before him; and make him stand watch over the car. This is what happens. I checked inside the car to see if anything else was missing. Camera bag, GPS, and more… They could have disappeared during my trip to the police station. Luckily nothing else is missing. We get in the car and return to the police station. Captain Ali Kemal was the last to take my statement (maybe having the same name helped) and he promised (!) that they would catch the thieves and get everything back. In the meantime, I called the Turkish Embassy only to be told that the ambassador wasn't there and that I should call the next day, despite having explained to them what had happened to me. Anyway…

After I left the police station, I tried to think of how I could replace everything. The biggest problem was the triptyque of the vehicle and I had no other documentation to prove that I have actually brought the vehicle into Sudan. In this case, how was I going to take it out of the country? Let's say they let me take it out, I didn't have the document to bring it into other countries. Depressed, I returned to the hotel. I parked the car right in front of the hotel as close to the wall as possible so no one could get in through the broken window side. Meanwhile I called our office in Turkey, and asked Gulsah (our secretary) to call and get the satellite phone blocked temporarily and to find out about the procedure for re-issuing triptyque documents to replace the lost / stolen ones.

That night, we went to Ibrahim's (he is not Turkish) restaurant where we had dinner the night before. Ibrahim, the owner of the restaurant gave me the impression with his outlook and mannerisms that he might have connections with the "underground world". The night before, for some reason an affinity was created between us and he didn't even charge us for the food, saying "You are my guests". I told him about the incident, and told him that I was ready to pay twice as much as what the thieves were hoping to make out of it. I asked him if he could spread the word around for me. He said he would do it immediately and added that I shouldn't worry.

That night I couldn't fall asleep for a long time so at 1:30 I got up and went to the bakery across from the street to take some photos of the front of the bakery. "Why on earth would you take pictures of a bakery at that hour?" I can hear you say. If you saw them at night in Khartoum, you could not resist the urge to take photos either.


Next day's bread is packed in front of the bakery

Well! Trays of freshly baked bread are emptied on plastic sheets or canvas laid on the street in front of the bakery. When the bread has cooled down enough two or three people begin packing them into bags, eight to ten loaves to each bag. The bags are then lined up around the giant canvas or the sheets. Then the cars waiting to distribute bread grab fifty to hundred bags per car and leave.

Seeing me walk up there to take photos, everyone stopped what they were doing gathered around me. Some of them were playing dominos so I joined them as well. Then they started singing. They made me sing some Turkish songs and I hardly made my escape by 3:30. After that whenever they saw me stuck a bag of bread under my arm and invited me to play dominos. Unfortunately the opportunity didn't present itself again…

The next day first thing in the morning I called the Embassy. Ali Bey (I was in such a hurry I couldn't even find out his surname) told me that his assignment ended as of that day, and that he was heading back to Turkey the following day. In the afternoon he was going to pay a farewell visit to the president of Sudan so he said he would be happy to receive me if I could go to the Embassy immediately. I took a cab to the Embassy right away. His secretary, Ayda Hanim (she is from Sudan) remembered me from my previous calls and she sent me in without delay. I told Ali Bey about my trip and my situation. He listened to my story with great interest. He told me not to hold high hopes and instructed Ayda hanim to call the two police officers whose numbers I also had and let them know that he was personally attending to this matter and kindly request that they handle it with the sensitivity it requires. I added that I would offer a handsome reward in the case that the stolen items were found and returned to me. Ayda hanim called the officers immediately and conveyed both messages.

I left the embassy and called our company to find out information about the triptyque document. The response was even more shocking than the theft itself: To get a new triptyque document the vehicle needs to return to Turkey. This was coming from -unfortunately- the only organization in Turkey that is authorized to issue triptyque documents: Turkish Touring and Automobile Association (known as TTOK). I didn't think it would be that "simple". I didn't think I was the only person in the world who has lost his triptyque document and not everyone who lost their document had to ship their vehicle all the way back to their country. For instance, imagine a Swiss person traveling around in South America with their own vehicle getting their triptyque document stolen in Chili.

I asked Barlas (my partner) if he could track down the international organization which TTOK is affiliated with and talk to the authorized persons to clarify the situation. In the meantime, in case there was truth to what TTOK was saying, I asked Barlas to do a search for a freight company that could load the vehicle in a container in Sudan, especially in Khartoum and ship it over to Istanbul. I went into an internet café and logged on to MSN for faster communication. I am glad I did, Barlas started sending me messages with answers to my queries. His first message was regarding the freight company: He has spoken with Edip Bakimci, a member of the Board of Directors of UND (International Transporters' Association of Turkey) and Edip bey has told him that there is a company in Khartoum to which he is a partner and gave him a contact name. His second message had news on TTOK: He has reached the contact details of a Ms Deborah Smith, the person responsible for operations in Turkey for the FIA (Federation of International Automobiles) located in Switzerland. FIA is the organization which TTOK is affiliated with. When Barlas called her she was out for lunch. He was going to call back in an hour and in the meantime he sent her an e-mail explaining the situation and TTOK's "solution to the problem". I realized that I had to wait a while so I left the internet café and I called Mehmet Utlu from Bakimci Spare Parts Company on the number Edip bey provided. Within 15 minutes after the phone call, Mehmet bey was already there to pick me up with his Sudanian assistant. First we went to have a look at the car. Then they took me to the "thieves market" in Khartoum. There we gave a few people the description of the stolen items and told them that whoever brings them to me would be rewarded generously. Mehmet then took me to a Sudanian customs agent who would be able to help with any problems I might come across when taking the vehicle out of Sudan or even shipping it back to Turkey, due to the missing triptyque document. Hommeida el-Sheikh explained step by step what needed to be done and told me that the first thing I needed to do in the morning was to obtain a signed copy of the incident report from the police. We left Hommeida and went to Mehmet's office. In the meantime I called Barlas and found out from him that Ms Smith sent him a message telling him that the procedure was not at all how TTOK made it out to be; she has sent a bulletin to all the countries reporting that the stolen triptyque document is invalid; and that she would be sending an e-mail to TTOK immediately, instructing them to issue a new document. When I opened my messages on Mehmet's computer, her e-mail which she cc'ed to me was already in my inbox. In her e-mail, Ms Smith wrote that the procedure for the Carné de Pasage en Duane (triptyque document) was clear, provided relevant article numbers of the procedure and warned TTOK that it needs to "act in accordance with the procedure". Can you imagine, TTOK, without the need to further investigate and without seeking advice single handedly, tells me to bring my car back, so that they wouldn't have to deal with a new "problem" besides the routine work. This way they would be teaching a lesson to the crazy person who wants to travel in Africa with his car. "What business did he have there? It is all his own doing!"

The triptyque document issue was resolved. It was going to be difficult but the customs agent was going to sort out the problems regarding the old document. And I could very well get my old laptop shipped to me along with the new triptyque document... It was just the photos that were impossible to replace.

The next morning I go to the police station to see Captain Ali Kemal and get a copy of the report. For a long time we couldn't come to an agreement on the copy of the report. They weren't authorized to give out copies of the official documents. Finally I could persuade them to write something down and sign it for me. After about two hours "my Captain" came back with a small piece of paper that had a couple of lines scribbled on it in Arabic (of course it would be in Arabic but ...) "What is this?" I asked. "Repoooort!" he said. I looked at it briefly; it doesn't have my name or the license plate of the car... I tried to explain as calmly as I could be. I said this "report" would not be good for anything; a report would have to include details about my triptyque document, laptop, satellite phone, and my license plate, etc. This time Ali Kemal brought a printed incident report form and sat down in front of me. "What do you want me to write?" I wrote it all in English and he translated everything into Arabic; signed, sealed and gave it to me "Know that this wouldn't be done for anyone else". Then added, "I am sure we will call you to the station today or tomorrow". "Why is that?" I asked and he replied "Because we will catch the thieves and find your belongings." I said "Inshallah!" [God willing], shook his hand and left. Now it was time to sort out the broken window. Mehmet's assistant and I went to look for glass for the window. Just as we were in the middle of a bargain, my phone rang. It was Ayda hanim from the embassy. She said "they just called from the police station; they said they found your belongings". It has been only 1-2 hours since I left the police station. I went there immediately. Ali Kemal took me to his "boss" straight away. A little later a police officer entered the room with my briefcase in his hand. I opened it, laptop (was working), satellite phone, triptyque document, my notebook, Egypt guide book and the rest. The only items still missing were the external hard-disk (it only had MP3 and backup files, so not a big deal), digital voice recorder (had some recordings but it wasn't that important) and the AC adaptor of the laptop... Not important at all. The most important items were found and all the problems were solved. I thanked all the police officers there starting from the "Boss". Exchanged a hug with Captain Ali Kemal and said goodbye. The necessary formalities were complete; I handed out the "reward" and I was out of there with my briefcase firmly tucked under my arm, never to leave again.

I am not sure what worked: Was it restaurant owner Ibrahim's attempt, the ambassador personally following up the matter, our appearance at the "thieves market", me stirring them up at the police station with my "journalist" story or all of the above? Well at the end of the day I was the one happy to get my stuff back.

I want to extend my thanks to the following people for their interest, support and efforts:

- Ambassador Ali bey and his secretary Ayda hanim.

- Edip Bakimci, member of UND Board of Directors.

- Dear Mehmet and Ozgur Utlu brothers, especially for their friendship, hospitality and warmth during and after.

- Barlas and Gulsah.

- North Khartoum Police Department personnel, especially Captain Ali Kemal,

And of course
- My dear wife Buket, who gave me moral support on the phone and I am sure have spent many sleepless nights because of me.

If you are reading this and looking at the photos (well maybe not now but you will see them eventually), you need to know that these are the people who made it happen.

After reading all the explanations maybe now you see that I have a valid excuse for the delays in the updates. I hope from this point onwards that I will never have to give an excuse as this one.
Then what happened? I found glass for the window that was supposedly authentic Land Rover window. I had to get this authentic window glass shaved at places so that it would fit in and got it installed at a glass repair shop. There is no such thing as a Land Rover service shop. While they were putting the window in some parts of the door upholstery disappeared along with the lock on the door handle… I keep the door handle in the glove box so I can put it in to wind down the window. I don't even need to do that anymore because the window doesn't go up and down anymore since the window glass slipped out of the slot in the window mechanism. But don't worry; now it is always closed. I couldn't find an AC adaptor for the laptop in Khartoum (not that I expected to) they sent it to me from Turkey, big thanks! I couldn't work on the update till the adaptor arrived. When I received it on December 6th I sent off the previous update which was written hastily and carelessly; and then left Khartoum in a hurry after an 8 day delay in the program.

In my next update I will complete the Sudan part. I wasn't idle in Sudan while I waited for my stolen things and the adaptor, I kept myself busy. I won't tell you about it in this update; I will let curiosity overwhelm you.

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