Sudan 2009

1. A village on the White Nile.

I am struggling to know what to write about Sudan. In many ways, it was a nightmarish trip and yet it also captured or at least hinted at a sort of authenticity of experience that has been absent from my last few journeys. Sudan, for better or worse, is not trying to impress you. It just is. No frills, no fuss. It says: “take it or leave it”. And I suppose, for the vast majority of the world’s population, the resounding response is: “leave it”.

Tourism is essentially non-existent in Sudan. Even Khartoum, the capital of the largest country in Africa and containing 8 million people, makes no concessions to the beast we call tourism. This is astonishing – and is not something I have ever experienced before. Of course, conflict has ravaged Sudan almost continuously for the last 40 years – and there has been intermittent discord going back more than a century. The US Department of State officially warns Americans not to travel to Sudan, citing “uncertain security conditions and the possibility of violence”. The governments of many countries around the world specifically discourage their citizens from travelling to Sudan, including the governments of the United Kingdom, Australia and New Zealand. None of this is conducive to a thriving tourism industry.

2. Real, live camels.

Our journey began on a cool Cape Town evening. After nearly 15 hours in the air and about 10 hours of soul-destroying waiting in Dubai, we finally, wearily disembarked at the Khartoum airport at 6pm the following evening. It was 38⁰C. At 6pm. One often seems to read (I couldn’t say where) about walking “into a wall of heat”, but it wasn’t until that moment that I fully appreciated this nifty turn of phrase. Our first few days in Khartoum were uneventful. We were made very welcome by our hosts, which, given how alien our surroundings were, was all the more appreciated. I had never before travelled in a country governed by Sharia law, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly apprehensive about this. It seemed to me that here was a potential faux pas minefield, but with the added worry of legal ramifications. No drinking, no pork and no sex – that much I knew, but what about the myriad of other social, religious and political niceties that were beyond my knowledge? As it turns out, I needn’t have worried. Despite the many shortfalls of Sudan, the people are incredibly open, friendly and considerate. They are very aware that, as an outsider, you aren’t always au fait with local customs and not only do they take this in their stride, they take a quiet pride in explaining themselves and their beliefs.

3. Mud hut architecture.

Unfortunately, our trip was rather curtailed when I came down with amoebic dysentery and ended up in hospital (the hospital actually wasn’t too bad – I’ve definitely seen worse). This meant that we had to cut out some of the recreational adventures we had planned, but I did get a chance to see a couple of exciting places, including a trip to a farm on the banks of the White Nile and a walk through a local souq (market). The market wasn’t merely the proverbial “assault on the senses”, it was aggravated assault and battery. The wind was gusting frighteningly as we began our tentative exploration of the market and seemed to add to the slightly macabre air of the place, as goods were blown from their tables, awnings flapped desperately and the infirm huddled into doorways. An abrasive grit (who can imagine the microscopic nightmare contained in this mix) worked its way into every part of our bodies. Our eyes, ears, nostrils. The sights, sounds and smells of that market place have been scoured into my memory.

Overall, Sudan is not a place I would recommend to anyone other than the intrepid. For the less hardcore traveller, perhaps you could get away with sticking to the Hilton (yes, there is a Hilton in Khartoum), but you may not want to venture further afield than the foyer. All this being said, if you are brave enough to overlook the myriad of dire warnings from your government and make the trip, you will undoubtedly experience something unlike anything you have experienced before. And this, I suppose, is what travelling is all about.

My thanks to Billy, Christie, Pandelis and everyone at DAL who made us so welcome in their country.

Photos by: Ross Cowlin