Leaving in good time, we rode the 17km to the ferry port and arrived just before 9am. With the gates supposed to open at that time, the crowds had already started to form. A seemingly helpful man told us, along with some other westerners, to go and wait on the right hand side where it was quieter. In typical fashion while we waited, they opened the barriers on the left and we spent the next 15 minutes arguing with some security guards about whether we could go. Eventually after the guards started making some money gestures, we pushed past on mass and went to join the queues. The process leading up to boarding is not geared up for people with bicycles. Everyone pushes in from all directions and the gates are quite narrow.
The earlier pushing was nothing compared to what we encountered when we got to the luggage scanner. People were shoving and shouting, huge boxes were passed overhead, the slightest gap was enough for someone to try and squeeze into and it was all we could do to hang onto the bikes. Fortunately for us they decided that we didn't have to take all the luggage off and we could just go through the very narrow looking person scanner. We just fitted and were extremely glad to be out of the crush.
Having cleared the scanner, it was onward to the scales. We didn't find out what the bikes weighed, as we were ushered to one side and a ticket for 50LE (£5ish) for each bike was made out. From then on apart from the ridiculous shoving, the process was made easier when a guy appointed himself as our helper. We didn't ask for one, but any help seemed stupid to turn down.
Following our helper, we were ushered round the queues at immigration and through a back way. Once through, aside from paying 2LE each (not sure what for) and having to fill in a departure card, everything was pretty straight forward.
From immigration we walked down towards the ferry, having our tickets checked on route. We had obviously got through quite quickly as the ferry wasn't yet moored to the side of the barge that we would be boarding across. A comedic moment passed when the ferry came along side the barge and tried to line its doors up with the walkway. Everybody waiting suddenly became back seat captains, shouting instructions up at the ship. The boat would gently float past as everyone shouted stop and then a member of the crew would peer over the top to check the alignment. This happened several times with the boat continually sliding past, much to the annoyance and increased animation of the watchers.
Eventually the boat moored in the correct position and the doors opened.
The scrum began immediately, people barged past, men with boxes shouted at each other and we struggled to push our bikes towards the doors. We had been told to put our bikes at the back of the ferry, which involved passing through two rooms, their floors already strewn with bags and boxes. To add a bit of difficulty, all the doorways had raised steps so we had to manhandle the bikes through them. All the while other passengers with improbably large loads were trying to push past. Our helper got us safely through to the back of the ship, shouting at anyone who got too pushy.
The back of the ferry was strangely empty and we soon had the bikes unloaded. We had planned to leave most of the luggage attached, but our helper didn't think it was safe. While I locked the bikes, he helped Debs with the bags and got us settled under one of the life-rafts, which would hopefully offer us plenty of shade from the blazing sun. We gave our helper a decent tip and thanked him for his trouble. I am not always keen on paying people to do something we could do ourselves, but he had gone out of his way to make sure we got on board safely.
Joining the other westerners under the life raft, we sat down and watched the amazing spectacle that is loading the ferry. From flat screen televisions to refrigerators, karaoke machines and stereos, all were slowly brought on board. When the ferry was full there was still the barge to load. Fights broke out, people shouted and shoved and at one point security arrived and stopped anyone boarding. As if it wasn't exciting enough, while the guys we had met in the ferry office were waiting to load their vehicles, a whirlwind whipped up and threw bits of thin sheet metal into the air. The guys quickly dived behind their vehicles as the metal sheets bashed into the cars. As quickly as it had started it was gone, fortunately no one was injured.
Having survived the whirlwind, the guys still had to load the vehicles on the barge, which looked pretty precarious. They did say later that the barge was nothing compared to the wind.
Despite the fact that we had spread out under the raft, defending our space became nigh on impossible when what seemed like more and more people tried to cram underneath. Seeing as they were all men and had obviously never seen a westerner by the way they were staring, didn't make Debs feel very comfortable. It had been my idea to stay on deck rather than pay for a cabin, a decision that with hindsight was a mistake.
Eventually after we had been on board for nearly 7 hours the ferry set sail. In approximately 16 hours we would be in Sudan.
Shortly after the boat began to move we were told that we had to go to immigration and get our passports stamped, which involved another shoving competition. Having had our visas stamped we then went to cash in our free meal ticket. The meal was not bad if you ignored the fact that the server was smoking a cigarette, picked all the food up with his hands and placed it on an almost clean tray. We survived, so the chicken, rice, vegetables, bread and orange was obviously safe to eat.
Back at the life raft we were pleased to see that the other westerners, who we had asked to keep our spot and mind our gear had taken to their job so diligently. We spent the next hour slowly taking our spot back from the encroaching locals! Clearly by the way that more locals moved in clutching blankets they were obviously of the opinion that they would be sleeping there. Despite the fact that we had been there since 10:30am.
Our salvation came during the call to prayer. While the locals got up to pray we moved their stuff and spread our kip mats and sleeping bags out. They made a few attempts on their return to squeeze into non existent gaps around us, but eventually gave up, with most of them going elsewhere. It wasn't the most restful night but we did at least get some sleep.
With morning came more people squeezing under the raft and we got a bit fed up with the constant staring and moving of our stuff. As we had been sitting on the wrong side of the boat we missed the Abu Simbel temple in the morning, but were told by people sitting the other side that it was so far away as to be very indistinct.
When people started to move their gear around I took the luggage back down to the bikes and reloaded them ready for our arrival. Getting them out through the piles of luggage was going to be a challenge. When we finally arrived, everybody was held on board until they had been immigration again. This time we had to fill in a form and were given our Sudanese travel permit. With the return of our passports we were told we could leave the ship as the doors were now open. Fearing the worse, we were surprised to find that we could get the bikes out fairly easily. The only difficult bit being getting up the steps from the ferry to the jetty. The porters had no choice but to help as until we moved no one was going anywhere.
The journey from the ferry to customs along a sand road was a little tricky, but despite having to take all our bags off for inspection we were soon heading for Wadi Halfa.
We had our first experience of the friendliness of the Sudanese people metres from the port, when a group of kids rushed over to say hello and pose for a photo.
With a good feeling about the country we headed onwards to the town to try and find a hotel. The idea of moving on today didn't appeal much.
When we got to hotel Kilopatra (they possibly meant Cleopatra) it looked like our luck was out as they were fully booked, as it turned out, by the overlanders who we had met before.
With the help of a Sudanese guy I had met on the ferry, who was also staying there, they eventually gave us a basic room on the ground floor that we could push our bikes straight into. It was a pretty rubbish room with terrible saggy beds, but at least we could get some rest so we would be fresh for tomorrow.
Also staying at the hotel and catching the ferry to Egypt tomorrow, were a lovely couple who had been living in Khartoum for the last three years. They were fascinating company as the man had been working for the British embassy, while his wife was a nurse. We joined them for a cup of tea, with milk, and a hobnob biscuit, while they told us and another British couple who are travelling in a Toyota Landcruiser about their time in Sudan.
In an exchange of goods we gave them our Egypt map and we were given, rather more generously, their Sudan guidebook. If they happen to read this, we can't thank them enough and wish them well on their journey home.
A wander into town later on found us some dinner and then it was back to the hotel for an early night. At least it would have been if the hotel hadn't decided to move 20 Libyan refugees into the downstairs rooms with us. Once again the guy who had helped earlier came to our rescue and helped sort out a room upstairs and then helped carry all our gear to the room. The upstairs room was definitely nicer, but also hotter. Fortunately we were so tired we fell asleep, ready to set off at first light tomorrow.
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