we could hear were distant sounds of
the farmers singing as they worked
the land around us. It was one hell of
a place for a camp.
The following day we made
incredible progress down empty
roads, through the blisteringly
intense heat of the desert, stopping
only to fill the tank and drink
plenty of water. We rotated who
was at the handlebars and who
was napping in the sidecar. The
napping wasn’t because we were tired
but because the intense heat and
pure nothingness of the landscape
subdued us into a doze. Eventually
we made it to Dongola where we
pulled in for lunch.
Dongola is a little more of a proper
town and has all sorts of luxuries;
the most important of which was a
fridge. We smashed 2 or 3 cold cokes
each and had another whopping
helping of meat and bread – this
time it was chicken. While we were
sipping away a couple of the local
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