This part of the journey is hard but is giving me extraordinary, pure and virgin landscapes. The evening, I'm dead tired and it’s already dark, I am leaving the bicycle on the side of the road and eating my meal in 2 minutes. People warned me that the area is full of hyenas but I am falling asleep simply on the ground with my knife close to me, just in case... I’m too tired to fix the tent, but apparently even the hyenas seem to support badly the heat and none of them will make the effort to visit me. The following day, when pushing my bicycle in the sand, I am hearing some sounds and I think that I see hyenas on the hills, I don’t take the time to verify it and am continuing my ride. I am finding a small tree and am spending my midday time under it and a little later I am reaching a water point. 2 men live here and they are offering me a delicious meal, the first and not the last. Sudan, oasis of hospitality. I am drinking at least 3 liters of water which is transported by donkeys in big jars. These jars, I will see them during all my Sudanese journey, everywhere on the side of the road, people put water in them and everybody is free to use the water. The best with this jars, is that the water remains fresh in it ! I am leaving this oasis in the desert and a fighting again with the tiring road. The sun is strong, extremely warm but in the evening, I am finding a cafeteria where I am sleeping on the ground, between about ten Sudanese people who just arrived by truck. As usual, as soon the sun rises, I am starting my day as soon as possible to benefit from the relatively fresh morning. The bumps is starting to irritate me and make me really tired and the sand makes me insane. I think that the sun is also not completely innocent for my feelings and I almost get burned everyday. I am starting talking with my bicycle and am saying to it that everything is fine, that it must be strong and that afterwards the road will hurt it less… But my bicycle is remaining dumb and isn't answering me... It is suffering in silence at least, not like me....

After 3 days riding in the wild desert, I am reaching the Nile and I am finding every 20-40 kilometers small villages. In every place, the people invite me to have a drink, some food, a rest or to spend the night with them. The Nubians are extremely nice people and I have unforgettable times with them. Almost each evening, they offer me a bed (tended strings which is used as mattress) and I look at the stars before sleeping. Here everyone sleeps outside, the nights are a little fresh in the desert, but remain very pleasant. It is good to feel a little fresh air after a hard day with the sun... I’m invited to a wedding and before going there, the people are making me drink discreetly 2 large local whisky glasses, it helps dancing and singing according to them. The only problem is that alcohol is strickly forbidden in all Sudan, the Sharia law has been in force for a few years (also the reason of the wars with the south and now in the Darfour which has a majority of Christians) If somebody gets cought with alcohol, it is a fine of 400 USD and 40 blows of whips.... nothing very exciting, then I am drinking my whisky very quickly... I am getting new wedding propositions, at last !! It is making me almost happy after the excessive calm in the Middle East and his “no woman landscape”.... The party of the wedding is one of this unforgettable time, people singing and dancing, my first real african feeling. Everyone is speaking to me, offering me food or drinks (tea of course), everyone is fighting to have me as guest, to sleep not in their houses, but in one of their bed under the sky. These Sudanese people are simply extraordinary and so nice.

The way to Dongola is a succession of bad roads, heat waves and meetings with people who each time welcome me with beautiful smiles. With the locals, I am having 2 swim in the Nile. They know where the crocodiles are not too aggressive and especially they know the hours we should avoid, midday is lunch time in Sudan for the crocodiles (because the animals get really thirsty at this time and come to drink water). I am arriving very happy in Dongola. I know that asphalt is not very far. I am spending my day in the store of a Sudanese guy who offered me a bed the night before, a few kilometres before Dongola. Of course, I’m the attraction of the market, especially when I am starting to repare my bicycle and offering it a complete cleaning in front of a large public, amused and very interested. I am deciding to leave again at the end of the afternoon because I do not want to abuse of the people’s hospitality. I wanted to offer me a hotel room but I understand very quickly that the people won't let me pay...  These people are poor, do not have anything, the houses are empty (why have useless things in a house?) but people have always something to eat and several times, people want to give me money, believing that I’m too poor to pay a bus ticket. People have the hand on the heart and offer me the best of what they have, which makes me feel bad sometimes. These people in fact are rich, very rich, beautiful and have noble interior richness. So I am leaving Dongola at the end of the afternoon and... yes!! It's asphalt!!! So good, I was never so glad to find asphalt on my way, after 400 kilometers of torture in 6 days - 4 hours of effort the morning and 4 the evening when the sun is less hot - I am finally reaching the asphalt. But a joy of short duration, because it's too hot, asphalt is melting and sticking to my wheels, I have to roll on the edge of road, again in sand and stones.... After getting lost (again) in sand while trying to find a better way, I am crossing some nomads with camels who are wondering what a white guy with a bicycle is doing in the middle of the desert... I am pushing 2 more hours my bicycle and as usual I am carrying it (my provisions have been decreasing, therefore my bicycle is becoming a bit “lighter"). The truck-drivers I am meeting are always very nice and are often giving me fresh water, people on the road are greeting me with large smiles, all the children are surprised to see me and a mixture of joy and fear can be read on their faces. More and more, people are believing that I am Syrian. I apparently took the Syrian accent with my "bad" Arabic (it’s getting better but Arabic remains a difficult language. With time and all the people I have been meeting, I can communicate and have conversations more or less interesting, which is for me really nice. People are very surprised and happy that I can speak Arab). My Sudanes turban that I am carrying against the sun, my small beard and my skin getting darker and darker (probably not only because of the sun, but because I’m getting quiet dirty as well) are making them think that I’m Syrian and ask me how is my country: Syria. I am replying that Syria is splendid and that I like it very much, but that I am Swiss of Switzerland and I do not know how a Sudanese guy can obtain a working permit in Syria... I am leaving the world of the Nubians and from now, the people are more Arab again, also nice. But for me, the Nubian people will have a special place in my heart.

I am spending one night in a police check-point. The police officer in function is saying me that he is sorry because he’s going to a wedding and does't have anything to offer me to eat, but I can take the only bed. This is for me perfect, I am cooking some pasta and am sleeping. The whole night, the cars and trucks drivers which are passing, are stopping and are showing me their papers, believing to deal with a police officer. The first one, I don’t understand why they are waking me up and showing me papers, but afterwards I start playing the game, looking at their papers and telling them that everyting is ok, that they can go. They are not realizing that under this cover is in fact a tourist and not a police officer.... The road is good and after some small impressive sandstorms and, as usual a deadly sun, the road until Khartoum is increasingly easy. I am arriving to a crossroads (incredible, a crossroads!) On the way, some 300 kilometres of pure desert again, I am crossing a few small cafeterias. I am sleeping one more time under this beautiful sky, looking at the stars in the milddle of the desert, without tent because there is no mosquito and the scorpions and snakes don’t like my disgusting smell, they are letting me in peace. I am also spending one night in a unforgettable restaurant, they are giving food, severals cold drinks, tea, a bed and plenty reserve of food for the next day! I am leaving again “richer" that I arrived, without having spent any money. It’s incredible for me because it’s a restaurant where they are supposed to make business with the travellers.... After all these beautiful adventures and the sufferings hours through this pure and wild nature, I am arriving in Khartoum. I am remaining there only 2 days, I am meeting Lorenzo, a Spanish cyclist who has been traveling on his bicycle for almost 8 years through the world. We are driving together until Gondar in Ethiopia. He was not so lucky I was during the crossing of the desert because he felt unconscious under the heat wave. A truck found him and he spent 2 days in the hospital but fortunately, he was able to take again the road by bus through this first hard part of the desert. When we are leaving Khartoum, the temperature at about midday in the sun is 48 degrees... The road is good during the first hundreds of kilometers but the traffic is more dense. Especially because the road is not broad enough. People are always also nice and we are often finding small restaurants where we can eat and drink. We are arriving in Gadalethe and after this point, the road is unpaved again...