Well hello there, good people. Been a while. You see, we’re just back from hitching a ride on the oh-so-iconic iron ore train in Mauritania. This will be our most hardcore adventure yet. But let’s begin at the beginning – with a stop in Mauritania’s capital Nouakchott, thousands of camels included – then onwards to ancient Chinguetti in the middle of the Sahara: the city of libraries, the Sorbonne of the desert.
The three of us meet up in a slightly shady night club in Casablanca. To ease in, we spend the first 3 days there. In Casablanca, that is, not the night club. Post coming up, on the city made famous by Ingrid Bergman. But first: Mauritania.
We fly with Royal Air Maroc from Casablanca to Nouakchott, arriving as the month of July turns 1½ hours old, a day after the country’s national election. Incumbent president and former army general Mohamed Ould Cheikh Mohamed Ahmed Ould Ghazouani has won a second term in office.
Nouakchott
Not everyone is happy with the result, and my first impression of Nouakchott is one of chaos and noise and what seems like a million old Mercedes. People shouting, cars honking, rules of traffic suspended (though I cannot be 100% sure they exist in the first place). The authorities are not taking any chances; police and military are out and about, quite visible in the landscape. The atmosphere is a bit tense, but not so much as to be intimidating.
Our main reason for stopping off in Nouakchott is to meet our fixer, the inimitable Baba, and to get some supplies for the Saharan train journey ahead – especially a haouli.
A haouli is a 3 – 5 metre-long cotton cloth. Some wear white haoulis, but mostly we see the characteristic blue ones.
For centuries, the nomadic men in the Sahara have worn this long scarf together with the loose gown known as boubou, protecting them from the brutal sun and sandstorms in the desert. In the cities, I get the impression it is also a bit of a fashion statement.
With Baba in his boubou
Baba takes us to a shop to get ours. We choose blue ones, and he teaches us how to tie them properly. (Harder than it looks, folks.) These will turn out to be invaluable on the train journey ahead.
What to see and do in Nouakchott
We have a day in Nouakchott. Pre-trip research has revealed it is not exactly a hot spot for sightseeing; tourism infrastructure is, well, practically non-existent. Which is interesting in its own way.
We wander about town, past markets and the Grand Mosque…
As non-Muslims, we cannot enter the Grand Mosque, but we can see it from a vantage point high above. Then we head out of town, to the camel market.
Marché aux chameaux
Nouakchott’s camel market is in Beila, out in the countryside, about 14 km from the city. It’s the second largest of its kind in Africa. (The largest is in Sudan – and for the geeks amongst us: the largest in the world is in Buraidah in Saudi Arabia).
You can’t really get a good view of the whole camel market from anywhere, so the only way to get a feel for the vastness is to walk amongst the animals. I suggest you don’t wear sandals.
Thousands of camels meander slowly about – or lay about, chewing and staring at you through those striking lashes. Herders in blue boubous wander about as well, as do dogs, goats and donkeys.
The old, abandoned airport
On the way back from the camel market, we pass the former Nouakchott International Airport practically in the middle of the city. It was replaced by a new one, further from town, in 2016.
The abandoned terminal building is not open to the public, but we’ve heard rumours there’s often a door left open, or a broken window to climb through. But not today. Not possible to enter. Oh, well.
Driving on the runway
Up bright and early the next morning, we’re ready to take on the enigmatic, ferocious landscape that is the Sahara. We will be spending the next few days in Mauritania’s Adrar region. In Chinguetti, ancient city of libraries. A fascinating place, it turns out.
Chinguetti: where knowledge is power
In the western heart of the Sahara lies a city of immense historical, cultural and religious significance. This is not merely a relic of the past, though. It’s a living city, an important cultural, religious and intellectual hub even today, attracting scholars, historians and pilgrims. And tourists, eager to explore.
There’s three parts to this oasis town at the edge of the massive Erg Warane sand dunes: new Chinguetti, old Chinguetti, and even older Chinguetti.
We drive into town mid-afternoon, and head straight out to have a look at present-day Chinguetti, a town of 4 711 residents.
It’s hot. So very hot! The houses are simple and functional, with flat roofs and thick walls that insulate against the heat. Still! Tenacity is needed to live in these severe conditions.
And as if the heat isn’t bad enough, Chinguetti also has to fight the expanding desert. Climate change causes desertification, threatening the very existence of this once thriving city. Efforts to preserve this unique site are ongoing, with both local and international organisations working to protect and restore Chinguetti and its invaluable treasures.
But what about tourism, you ask? Well, it is a much needed source of income for the local population. But it must be carefully balanced with the need to preserve the fragile environment, as well as the cultural heritage. The local community is deeply rooted in their traditions. Their way of life has changed little over the centuries. Sustainable tourism practices are essential here.
Ancient Chinguetti
Chinguetti was founded in 777CE, at a strategic location for the Trans-Sahara route, linking sub-Saharan Africa with North Africa and the Mediterranean. For centuries, it was a crucial stop for caravans traversing the vast desert, and a thriving centre of trade. It was also an essential stop for pilgrims on their way to Mecca. The austere mosque with its square minaret, is one of the oldest in continuous use in the Muslim world.
Today, old Chinguetti is semi-abandoned, thanks to the desertification. Walking through the narrow, sandy streets, we pass ancient stone structures and houses adorned with intricate wooden doors and windows. Many are in ruins, but some are still inhabited.
I close my eyes and try to picture this oasis in its heyday. Camel caravans are arriving, and lively caravanserais offer food and drink and rest to merchants and pilgrims. I see a humming market, with yesteryear’s version of pop-up stores, selling skins, ivory, gold, slaves…
The Sorbonne of the desert
Through the centuries, the Sorbonne of the desert has been a centre of Islamic scholarship, famous for its libraries with a huge collection of ancient manuscripts. In fact, Chinguetti is sometimes referred to as one of the 7 holy cities of Islam.
In the past, there were 30 libraries, all run by local families. Today, 13 of them still stand, safeguarding thousands of manuscripts, collected on pilgrimages to Mecca and other journeys, all written in elegant Arabic script, about astronomy, theology, medicine, mathematics and more.
Five of the historic libraries are open to the public. We visit two of them: Bibliotheque Habott and Bibliotheque al Ahmed Mahmoud.
Bibliotheque Habott
The sand is slowly encroaching on Bibliotheque Habott
We meet Abdullah Habott in the library that was founded by his family 200 years ago. He is the custodian of the ca. 1400 manuscripts kept here.
The air in the library is dry, which has helped preserve the documents over the centuries. It is less friendly to human bodies, though. Abdullah has a dry skin rash on his arm. I give him what is left of my travel-size tube of hand cream. Better than nothing.
The Top Gear team filmed part of their Grand Tour: Sand Job, here in Chinguetti (and in Nouakchott, racing on the old airport runway). One of them, James May, seems to have a wider range of interests than the rest. He visited Bibliotheque Habott and thought it was ‘bloody fantastic‘. Meanwhile, the other two filled his car with sand.
Bibliotheque al Ahmed Mahmoud
le savoir est une fortune qui n’appauvrit pas celui qui en offre
Knowledge is a fortune which does not impoverish the one who offers it
Saif al Islam al Ahmed Mahmoud runs another library, one with 700 preserved manuscripts. Here he is, surrounded by many of them, as well as a curious selection of objects.
There are ca. 30,000 manuscripts in Chinguetti, he tells us. But there’s not enough room to display them all.
‘All children attend Quran school,’ he continues. Starting from the age of 5 years, 5 months and 5 days, they study the teachings in the manuscripts. The way they were passed on, was through the caravans that stopped by, on their way to Andalucia, to France, and so on. From Chinguetti, the teachings were transmitted to other parts of the world.
I’m intrigued by this fork-like instrument in the bowl here. Saif tells us about the fate of women in ancient (and not so ancient) Chinguetti, and about a practice that seems to have lasted up until 50 years ago, possibly even later.
In contrast to the current fashion, Mauritanian girls of the past should be fat. Having a well-fed daughter was prestigious. It meant the father was rich and powerful. It was also a way to stop the girls from being stolen. It’s difficult to kidnap someone who is too heavy to get on a camel. To that end, 8–10 litres of milk would be boiled and couscous added to it, and the girl was expected to eat it all. If she didn’t, someone – mum or dad, probably – used these wooden pinching pliers on her arm, until she complied.
Saif, the story teller
Curious kids in Chinguetti
Even older Chinguetti
In the evening, we head out to the oldest part of Chinguetti to see the sun set. The landscape here is even harsher. A few crumbling houses here and there, goats out and about, some thorny bushes and what appears to be a scarecrow. Most of the old town is buried under the sand dunes.
The old mosque stands out, with its prayer room and a minaret with the distinctive, typically Mauritanian four-pinnacled top. Apparently, some locals still use it. Local men, that is. Women are not allowed inside mosques here. They pray outside. And even though there is no one here, I’m only allowed to go as far as the doorway to peek in. Said, our driver, insists we stick to the rules.
I’m reminded of the discussion of men-only mosques in Europe. The question is whether Islamic law allows banning someone from entering a mosque by reason of gender only. Some Islamic scholars say banning anyone from entering a mosque to pray, is haram. But clearly, this is not how the Quran is interpreted here.
The prayer room is slowly but surely being devoured by the merciless desert.
Sun setting over ancient Chinguetti
And so, we set off for Atar, for a final night before the main event. Stay tuned for an unforgettable journey on Mauritania’s Iron ore train! And a proper oasis.
Photos by Andrew Morland, Tom Brothwell and myself.
Ancient Ksour of Ouadane, Chinguetti, Tichitt and Oualata in Franeker is a UNESCO World Heritage site.
Here are more UNESCO World Heritage sites around the world.
Mauritania: Nouakchott to Chinguetti is a post from Sophie’s World