Category: Sudan

Khartoum is an intrinsically ugly town. Home to 5 million Sudanese it is squat and low rise. Most of the buildings are a monotonous sandy colour and there no supermarkets nor lively shopping areas.

Heightened security from decades of war restricts photography. The best view of the only natural attraction, the confluence of the White and Blue Nile is from a road bridge which is guarded by police and no photos are allowed.

History is what dusty little Khartoum specialises in and in this area it has attractions galore! Most notable is the magnificent National Museum with its treasure trove of relics from the time of the ancient Egyptians. Smaller than the Cairo museum it makes up for the lack of size with quality and intimacy. Anthony and I were the only two westerners there.

The other historical attractions are 2000 years younger dating from the end of the 19th century and the British occupation of Sudan already alluded to. Perhaps the most poignant is Lord Kitchener’s Nile gunboat El Malik used in the battle of Omdurman where the British set out to avenge General Gordon’s murder and to reacquire Sudan. Sadly lies unloved and ramshackle partially buried in Nile silt well away from the water’s edge and used as a storage dump by the Blue Nile sailing club.

The Mahdi’s mausoleum, north of the city centre in Omdurman is a more recent but no less impressive edifice. Marking a memorial to the man who led the Islamic uprising that took Khartoum and killed the charismatic Gordon.

Sudan is the largest country in Africa and covers an area the size of western Europe. It has also been chronically in the world news for all the wrong reasons ranging from civil war with the now breakaway South Sudan through to the genocide in its southwestern corner Darfur. The US has a longstanding trade embargo on the country which further complicates attempts to enter and travel through here. In particular there is no banking facility for foreigners nor ATMs. As a consequence we are forced to carry a large reserve of cash on our persons. Also visas are a haphazard affair and very difficult to come by. Still wounded by my abortive attempts at visas for the Stans I leaped on the internet advice to contact George.

George is a Greek who’s family have lived in and operated the Acropole hotel in Khartoum for sixty years. It was a popular watering hole for expats and travelers alike until the restaurant was destroyed by Hezbollah terrorists in 1988 with 7 killed in the attack. Not to be deterred they rebuilt the hotel. George and his family not only run this tourist friendly establishment he is also a general factotum for tourist related matters including the procurement of visas and travel and photo permits in advance. All ready on arrival.

Our flight to Dubai on the “flying skip” was one of the better flights that I have taken. Troubles arose when boarding the connecting flight to Khartoum without a visa in our passport. We are initially refused entry. George has secured and emailed a written visa for us to bring but somewhat unnerving is that Anthony’s visa only mentions his first and middle name and not his surname. Fortunately George’s brother Makis has already confirmed us through the Emirates office in Khartoum earlier in the week and when they check we  are allowed through.

A thick sandstorm and forboding grey storm clouds greet us at Khartoum airport. As we taxi and land we see prominent army anti aircraft guns and tanks straddling the runway. There are only 3 other passenger aircraft  on the apron, the rest being mostly military. Chaos greets us at the arrival hall with hundreds of people queued up at immigration and the process proceeds at the proverbial snail’s pace. We spot the only desk marked visa and head for it to be met by a young man brandishing paper with our name written on it. George’s influence has his man meeting us in the “forbidden zone” between aircraft and immigration. Ten minutes later he has our visas in our passports and we literally jump the queue leaving behind the African sea of humanity. The baggage wait was long and anxiety provoking, will our gear get here especially through the 7 hour layover in Dubai. It was back slapping all round when our packs finally did emerge.

Our driver speeds through the dark dimly lit streets dodging the chaotic traffic on the way to the Acropole Hotel. I have the windows down and the hot night air brushes my face. I smell the smells of Africa and suddenly, despite my fatigue from flying, I am alive again! Energised I grin stupidly as my mind relives a hundred similar places that I have been to in far flung places. It is like a home coming and I am excited to be back on the road again.

I first dreamt of travelling to the Sudan as a teenage boy. My grandmother would take us to the op shop at Ashburton where I would scour the book section and indulge my passion for reading. One of my favourites was the “White Nile” a ripping yarn of British exploration in the deep heart of Africa written by Alan Moorhead in 1962.

One of the more tragic stories within the book was that of the British occupation of the Sudan in the mid 1800 and the last British governor, General Gordon a heroic soldier who was sent by Prime Minister Gladstone to evacuate all Egyptian and Europeans from the Sudan due to the rebel threat.  Gordon arrived in Feb 1884 and fortified and held the besieged Khartoum for 11 months. Ultimately Mohammed Ahmed who called himself the Mahdi (one who would rid the world of all evil) led the successful Sudanese Muslim uprising. Gordon was killed and beheaded all of which has an eerie resonance today.

So it is to the Sudan I venture. I want to see what, if anything remains of the fort that Gordon defended, nestled on the land protected on two sides by the confluence of the blue and white Nile. The Mahdi’s tomb still exists on an island in the Nile. Then there is the assortment of fabulous ancient Egyptian temples and pyramids north of Khartoum.

From Sudan it is unfinished business in Ethiopia with a 4 day safari into the Danakil depression. Straddling the border with Eritrea it is 100metres below sea level and one of the hottest places on earth. The landscape is reminiscent of Mars and the climax here will be a night sleeping out in the open on the rim of an active volcano. The finale is a brief transit through the tiny Djibouti wedged between Eritrea and Somalia.

I depart on Friday and am only away for a short 2 weeks. Large chunks of the trip will see us “off the grid” so postings may be late and well after the event but I will endeavour to keep you all posted while I am away.

Death of General Gordon