A story

The road in the desert

Text and photos of Giovanni Lamonica
As soon as I leave Nalut I can see that I am heading towards the unknown. The road is
starting squeezing as it is afraid to invade spaces not allowed. The view is fascinating.
Darwin, talking about the desert, used to describe it with its negative qualities, irresistible.
Why? His answer was that these kind of lands leave space to imagination. How could you
say differently? The most important things are feelings: to slow down quite frequently, to
look around, to fully dive yourself in this complete unknown. How to change something so
flat in something so suggestive, almost hypnotic.
As I am moving the landscape is changing, the arid hills are offering space to an endless
desert: the Sahara! After Derj I drive to the west direction and after a hundred km, the
Gadhames oasis, the pearl as it is often called, appears to my eyes. Arriving there at
sunset, with the lights stretching towards the desert, its already worth the journey, which
hasnt begun yet.
Its a city thousands of years old, crossing point of caravans coming from every corner of
Africa. Fairly declared as part of the UNESCO, its for sure the oldest, biggest and best
preserved city of the country. A compulsory milestone that nobody can skip.
The oldest part its almost uninhabited, even if in 1984, 7000 people used to live there but
moved to more modern houses in the time lap of four years.
Walking through the labyrinth of covered streets that use natural light from skylights,
suggestive, usually equidistant between one another and high 10 meters, leaves you just
speechless. Usually the touristic packet includes the visit to a salt lake, a castle and at
the end of the day, the sunset from one of the dunes that look over the near border with
Algeria, but dont get too excited, since there is something else waiting for you in the
south. The next day there will be a lot of road to ride, tons of road, the goal is Hun, about
800 km far, in the middle of nowhere as usual, some gas stations, just a few actually. In
the most deserted part, the one between Darj and Ghariat, about 300 km, I will meet a
convoy of 4 trucks (you never travel alone in these lands), a motionless tourist coach due
to mechanical problems and a bunch of cars. On the other hand I will get away with just 7
dinars for the gas (4 euros).

As soon as I arrive to the customers, some militars with their uniforms on ask me to come
closer by signs.
I go in and they offer me water. I take my bottle and I fill it. One of the guys appears with a
pack full of dates, it may be about 3 kilos, he offers them to me. Then another one comes
in with soda cans, he offers them to me as well. They ask me if I need gas but I answer
them that with this motorbike I dont have autonomy problems. They ask me how many
liters the tank can hold: 24 I answer using of course just my hands.
They are astonished, they cannot believe I can ride for 400 km and over without filling up
the talk.
I add to the itinerary by purpose the city of Hun, that deserves a special description. Six
years ago I went there looking for someone and I found two friends. Abubaker and Abdul
Fatah, known only a few hours before, host me in Abubakers home since I have my
pockets empty as usual and I can not change money at the black market. I still remember
when the two, after confabulating in arab, tell me, Ok, we think you have only one chance:
stay overnight at Abubakers home, as a guest for dinner, and tomorrow ride to Misurata
and change your money. I have saved the pictures of their two daughters, I took them in
1999, I have also tried to send them by mail, but unsuccessfully.
I find out Abubaker in his shop and we drive together to Abdul Fatah. We spend the whole
afternoon together, walking and sight seeing that sleepy town in the libic desert.
Now I have more money but there is nothing to do, I will sleep in the same room, in the
same corner and will eat arab food with my two friends.
The next day, the way to reach Sabha, following the southest road is also the worst one
speaking of the asphalt quality, a kind of crust full of cracks that dont leave a chance to
absorbers and backs. Traffic? Pretty inexistent. I will arrive in the late afternoon and in the
evening I will meet Ali, in a cafe. He speaks English and during our conversation I will ask
some questions about Cyrenaic and issues with Bengasi. He confirms me, as I knew, that
thats the part of the country where Gheddafi has less peoples approvals and he thinks
that the fights ended to be a carnage with 15 deads and tens of wounded, have been
generated from a rooted and widely spread discontent towards the government
establishment more than towards the consulates and foreign representations, in this case
ours, moreover the only one in that town.
We speak also about the idiot with the t-shirt, now fortunatly an ex italian minister, but
probably Im more resentful towards him than my interlocutor. By Alis opinion another big
problem of his country is the widespread poverty of some areas, especially in the south,
even if he thinks that the government is changing its strategy, paying more attention to
these depressed areas. Sabha is anyway an important tourists center, that has no
peculiar attractions but a good liveliness. From here it starts every hike to the most famous
attractions in the zone: the dunes of Ubari, the desert of Akakus and the desert of Murzuq.
But you can do it differently and take your own way, leaving from Ghat or Al Awynat to
Akakus and from the Ubari area to its lakes. In just one word? Theyre fantastic. The first
one is an escursion that lasts between 2 and 4 days, the second one can be faced in a
day.
But what are we exactly talking about?
Why so much effort, so much heat and consequent sweat to reach a place where also in
the winter the temperatures touch 30 degrees Celsius? These are probably the biggest
attractions of the libyan Sahara and it presents some of the most spectacular landscapes
in the world: the sea sand of Ubari stretches for thousands of square kilometres and it
hides between his huge red sand dunes a path of little lakes that look a little bit fairy and
fantastic, decorated by tens of palms.

The Jebel Akakus its even more fascinating and disturbing. Imagine a bunch of mountains
of volcanic rocks, black and under a sea of orange sand, sometimes red, depending on the
light conditions and on the year period. A colour contrast that leaves everyone speechless!
About these mountains we have also to add that some of the rock formations are
decorated by etchings and primitive paintings, some beautifully conserved from 12.000
years ago.
There is not much else you can do, you have to go there at least once in your life. And so
other road to ride. The temperature and colours warn that Im entering a different climate
zone.
Also the temperature, that until now was pretty pleasant, has a sudden rise, overcoming
30 degrees Celsius. Six years before, on April ,I found 55 degrees in the shadow in the
Akasus. Luckily Im a month earlier.
In Ubari the last houses, a gas station and some grocery stores before further 280 km of
complete peace: no traffic, wind and sand. I arrive at Al Awaynat and Im at the worlds
end, also the tired inhabitants hiding from the sun and wind in the shadow places of their
homes look at this man in black wondering where he is going.
Ghat, Im going to Ghat, the main entrance of the Akakus!.
And the black mountains start to appear after 60 km, at my left, high, imposing, they come
with me during my last tens of km until the entrance of this little, liveliness town of about
16.000 people. This is basically one of the few still standing tuareg settlements in the
Sahara with a well conserved Medina that is dominated by a castle started to be build by
the turks but finished thanks to the Italians arrival, who changed it into a police station. I
settle myself in a hostel without name where I am the only tourist between workers from
the neighbouring countries, looking for better conditions or just resting, waiting to reach the
north. Everyone speaks French besides me, but the smiles and cordiality overcome the
linguistic misunderstandings. In the evening Im sitting in one of these little restaurants on
the main street where a big cook is taking away the bones from the chickens and cooking
kebab with an expert hand right in the middle of the street. Mutton, salad and a little bit of
rice other than the never missing water.
I listen to sounds, noises, laughs, conversations that I cant understand.
Im at the end of my journey. No, from here you cant do anything else than begin!

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e-mail: giovanni.lamonica@gmail.com
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