Published on: 12/12/2012 Updated on: 20/02/2025
Marcello Carucci, a great two-wheeled travel enthusiast, recounts directly from the pages of his Travelogue his extraordinary experience among the Deserts of North and West Africa.
MA-FRA's BLOG has covered his travels before(Click Here), but this time you can experience his adventure directly from his words.
Definitely an impressive experience: faced in solitude relying only on one's own abilities and determination.
A journey that Marcello is unlikely to forget....
Next then follows Marcello Carucci's Diary of his journey through Spain, Morocco, Mauritania, Senegal and Portugal. Enjoy reading.
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24-07
At 7 p.m. I leave with the motorcycle from home and set sail from the port of Civitavecchia Rome.
25-07
At 3 p.m. I arrive at the port of Barcelona (Spain), travel all day and night, and to rest I sleep on a bench in a truck stop.
26-07
At 3:30 p.m. the ship sailed from Algesiras in Spain towards Tangier n Morocco.
27-07
1:30 p.m. I am in Agadir, Morocco.
28-07
I stop at Bouydour in Morocco. Police at night in the desert check, by candlelight, my passport and motorcycle documents, ask me what profession I practice and then note everything on a sheet of paper
29-07
In the desert the first problems begin: I run out of gas several times, but I have the help of passers-by who provide me with a few liters in exchange for dollars or, better yet, euros. On this day I cross the Mauritanian border and immediately shady individuals approach to ask me for food; then other difficulties on the sandy track take over: I get completely stranded so I have to resort to the help of local individuals in exchange for 30.00 euros. I continue my journey on the track and several times I get buried; to get out I have to load the vehicle onto the pickup truck and all for a fee of over 600.00 euros. It would seem that the people of Mauritania, unlike in the Middle East, wait for nothing more than your misadventures to bleed you dry: in fact, one individual initially had the nerve to ask me for as much as 1,000.00 euros!!! This unforeseen situation forced me to an obligatory stop in the desert, and what is more, with only one liter of water to drink... I resume the journey and arrive in the evening in Nouadhibou, also in Mauritania, where I spend the night in the cottage of a campsite in the company of unpleasant cockroaches. Here I make my first acquaintances with local people who offer me food but very politely, however, I refuse their food as a vegetarian; I would have done so anyway because of the poor hygienic conditions. From Barcelona in Spain to here I traveled 3,900 km of desert in six days, with all the difficulties I just did not imagine.
01-08
I am at the Mauritanian border (red location). The local customs officers and policemen come at me like jackals demanding not only my papers but also and abusively money to carry out the customs clearance operations. At first I refuse, get angry and lash out at one of them, but it all turns out useless because, being alone, I am eventually forced to pay as much as $30.00 (all due to appalling corruption among civilians and policemen)!!! I relax while waiting for the ferry to cross the river that is to take me to Senegal (5 hours of long and stressful waiting among heat, putrid smells and the insolence of the locals). Here a scene strikes and pities me: policemen beat children and women with the waistband of their pants to get them away from us foreigners and, as if that were not enough, accompany them with slaps and punches. Past the river the usual problem arises; this time, however, I only pull out $3.00 but the customs officers take it as an insult and turn on me. Everything is noticed by a policeman who immediately intervenes and at this point a fight ensues between officers and civilians. Tension is high and fear mounts that they might make me fall off the bike with consequences I leave you to imagine! In the confusion, however, I manage to get away along with some French people who lead the way with their hatchback. In Senegal I am immediately stopped by two motorcycle policemen to whom I ask general information regarding the country. They assure me that there are no problems, so that my peace of mind and desire for the journey returns. I get back on the road to St-Louis (Senegal) but suddenly I start crying in hiccups perhaps because of the stress accumulated due to fatigue, heat, thirst, wind but above all because of the joy of having arrived at my destination "alone," with a road bike, without the aid of a satellite navigator and only by force of will. Left isolated from all contact for nearly 4,000 km of desert, I eventually find myself only about 200 km. from DAKAR.
02-08
I am in Dakar, the city is hot, humid and very chaotic. People greet me like a hero by applauding and waving at me both along the roads and from the cars. I am happy and excited because this seems to be the reward for my feat that has tested my physical endurance.
Unfortunately, yet another problem: I must find a new rear tire at all costs, worn out by the heat and road conditions. How do I make myself understood? I ask myself. I turn to the Embassy but here they simply advise me to board the bike for Livorno and take the plane back; all for such a high fee and one that I certainly had not considered before departure! As if that were not enough, the coup d'état in Mauritania is also added: nervousness rises but I do not give up thinking about the worst moments of the trip. I manage, thus, with the help of a local policeman, after a good 7 hours, to find a used tire and finally mount it paying 150.00 euros. At the mechanic's we realize another problem: the sand, penetrating a bit everywhere, (even in the ignition key block), has created a clutch oil leak. I fortunately solve all the problems with the help of an excellent French mechanic. These misadventures reinforced in me the conviction that I had a Guardian Angel always on my side!
05-08
I leave Dakar and return by taking the same route and going through the same customs. My experience on the outward route has put me on the alert, so that I manage to get through with a total outlay of $10.00 plus another 10.00 euros.
06-08
At dusk I arrive at the Mauritanian-Moroccan border, Mauritanian police checks are being carried out in a tent by some uniformed but barefoot military personnel lying on cots amid flies and garbage.
Finally arriving at customs in Morocco, I kiss the ground because the feeling I get is that of having arrived home. I exchange a few words and establish good relations with the police: we take pictures, then they offer me to sleep in a room on the ground, but warm and sheltered from the wind and sand.
07-08
I stop again in Bouydour (Morocco).
08-08
I travel all day, then at night I rest on the ground at a local gas station (I am still in Morocco). I travel down the highway in the direction of Rabat, and still the unbelievable happens: many people asking for hitchhiking, parading in front of me, resulting in danger for everyone, and to top it all off, there are also a dozen or so dogs en masse, which just thinking about it, I don't know what saint has protected me from them!!!
09-08
I am in Spain
10/15-08
I arrive in Portugal by crossing the Algarve with its beautiful beaches. Here I meet the first Italians who want to take pictures of me after hearing about the tour I took.
16-08
Fatima (Portugal)
17-08
Spain
19-08
Lourdes
20-08
Ship from Barcelona to Civitavecchia
21-08
Return to Rome
