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Christmas Day 2001.
It seems fitting that today is the day that the Weasel made her last desert journey of the year. Cisca and I drove out along the Khartoum railway line towards "Station number one". I had to be quite careful as we had no reverse gear at all. We climbed into the rocky jebel and switched off. Cisca darted up the nearest rock formation, and I followed, trying to film the sunset and lake Nasser at the same time. A dust cloud appeared and we looked down on a truck/bus howling across the soft on its way to Atabara. This was the first of many trucks that would leave the Wadi, taking with it, the passengers of the ferry.
I packed up my cameras and drove back to town in the dark. I was sad to leave, but anxious to return, to cross the desert on the Dongola - El Atrun- Fasher salt caravan route. All I needed to do was hire a Land Rover to act as vehicle no 2 on this route. Or perhaps drive a cheap 109 down from England. The options were open.
I would like to say that all was well, and that I left Sudan happy, but sadly a money changer harassed me constantly this evening, and when I told him to leave me alone, (Very politely) he hit me. (after I pushed him). Not wishing to disgrace my Turkish heritage, I kicked him as hard as I could and lunged at him. He hit me again and I felt nothing, my arm locked around his neck and I started to squeeze. Before I knew it I was involved in a fight. People tell me that the man thumped me again and again on my shoulder blades, but I felt nothing and increased the pressure around his neck. All the while I chanted "Allah hu Akbar, Allah hu Akbar" (God is great, God is great). The man bit into my under arm, and I felt this. This had to be ended. I could not strangle him fast enough, so I started dragging him towards a large steel table. My intention was to batter his skull on the table. But by this stage my friends from Wadi Halfa peeled us apart. I was forcibly surrounded by ten people who led me back to hotel and gave me my cup of tea. Many people apologised to me and some thanked me. I had obviously attacked an unpopular man, but hang on, didn't he attack me?
A police man questioned me briefly and we were both brought before the inspector, who had been drinking tea in plain clothes. After he had ascertained the sequence of events, he bade me goodnight in English and told the money changer off.
"You pissed him off"
"But he pushed me"
"But you pissed him off, he was polite to you, and you wouldn't leave him alone. I know your type. You deserve this, now piss off"
The money changer obediently disappeared.
"Do you want him arrested" asked Ahmed, the receptionist of our hotel.
"No thanks" I replied quickly, "It was all a minor misunderstanding"
"Good" said Ahmed, and I finished my tea.
And so now I'm finishing this update off. It will be the last of this expedition. It has covered 64 days 5162 miles, (8260KM) 368 gallons of Petrol. 14 litres of oil, far too much money, 60 rolls of colour film, 10 rolls of B&W, 12 hours of film footage, two pairs of trousers destroyed, two shirts destroyed, one fleece dying, I have been so busy that I have only been able to read one book in 2 months.
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