Our trip started with some difficulties: the container with our motorcycles arrived some days delayed and the whole company had to do long walks around the dusty streets of Nouakchott or by the seashore, where thousands of boats of fishermen, with their gaudy colours, screamed joy of life despite the sea’s effort.
You could already feel a tense and irritable air when, thanks to the enterprise and the determination of our leader Federico Milighetti, we could get rid of “problems” with African bureaucracy, take our vehicles and, finally, we could leave.
In front of us, Mauritania desert with its thousand faces deleted all our inquietudes.
The company included old, nostalgic desert navigators of the Paris - Dakar like Federico Milighetti, Paolo Paladini, Andrea Tritarelli, professional travelling lovers like Fabrizio Rovella (Saharamonamour) and some followers in love with adventure and with Africa.
The itinerary was first directed towards north east, direction Akjoujt, then, crossing towns and hard stone uplands it took us to the soft hug of the sand, until reaching the big Azoueiga dunes where we did the first camp. It was impossible to resist the majesty of the dunes, which at the sunset are crossed by games of shadows and slide quietly in the breeze… and we went for it, first with the motorcycles up to the top, and then barefoot, to get inebriated by unforgettable images and sensations. From there our itinerary took us towards Terjit crossing Trifoujar pass. The oasis was our second camp. Under the fresh shadow of the palm trees we went back up long the torrent, reaching the rocky hills which dominate the canyon, to admire the immense valley which extends from the red cliffs in the direction of Atar. We slept one night in the Auberge of Terjit, where we even had the luxury of having a shower, then we took the way towards the south, following the old footprints of the official itinerary of the Paris - Dakar, which remains among the memories of some lucky ones (like our Paladini, Milighetti and Tritarelli). From here the route twists and turns towards Aujeft El Faraoun across a ours full of reservoirs, where groups of women dressed in colorful clothes and of guys run happily towards us. Then, almost suddenly, tall rocky walls stand on our sides and close until the El Anouk canyons, where also Tritarelli (my super professional pilot) couldn't resist the uncontrollable desire to stop and take some pictures.