Day 1: Saharawi Recce

My trip to the Saharawi refugee camps, Algeria. Recce for music studio.
Day 1 Fri 24th September 2010.

Delayed for two hours at Heathrow, a great start, however this does mean my five hour wait at the airport in Algiers will be cut back and I expect there is more to do and see here than there, so off to the whiskey shop I go to do some “sampling”..

Finally we're off and the flight was good. On arrival I cause a scene with customs as my visa was dated wrongly in London. It seems that I was only permitted to enter on the 25th and it’s the 24th so I get taken to the office and I’m thinking, here we go... But after some broken English and a call to the boss, who sounded like he was out raving, I managed to convince him that by the time I get to my final destination (Tindouf) it will be the 25th so we laughed about it and I was on my way.

On entering the arrivals hall I was approached by five men varying in age. They all seemed to know where I was going and wanted to help me get there.“Tindouf Tindouf ??" they shouted. I guess most westerners would be going to the camps and once they realised I spoke English I was allocated the youngest man to guide me. I don’t think I had a choice in whether I wanted a guide or not... That’s cool though it’s all part of the experience I feel.

On route to the domestic terminal a 200m walk away and with the young man running through the list of premiership football teams and players until I told him I was an Arsenal fan. He then switched to telling me that Arsene Wenger was the best manager and listing the Arsenal team in perfect English, a well-rehearsed routine I’m sure, none the less he knew his football. So now he gets to the business end of his guidance, black market exchange rates. He opens his phone and starts typing numbers for euro-dinar and pound-dinar having only been here for 40 mins and not seeing a bank or bureau du change I was suspect about the rate I was being offered so I only changed 40€ and tipped him 5€, I later found out that his rates were better than the banks DOH.. I should have known really.

Only a 1hr 45min wait for my connecting flight now so I settled into my new book along with some other westerners who were clearly going to the camps too. The flight to Tindouf was as long as the flight to Algiers and a lot busier, I was knackered and managed to sleep a while on this flight. We arrived at 0130am at Tindouf airport and after a quick pat down on the runway by a seemingly uninterested soldier I filled in my final immigration document, my 5th since arriving in Africa and I was through. I met some American teachers and gardeners there who come for periods of up to 3 months at a time to teach in the schools and in the community gardens. 

Hamdi

Finally I meet my guide (Hamdi) who will be with me for my complete stay, in fact I’ll be staying in his house. He lives in a camp called Feb 27th  - so called as this was the day that the Spanish finally left the western Sahara and when the Sahara Arabic Democratic Republic S.A.D.R was announced to the world. On the journey to Feb 27th I am accompanied by two Spanish documentary makers who had their video camera taken away from them as they didn’t have the right paper work or stamps for it. There’s a lot of bureaucracy here left over from the French occupation I would imagine. On arrival to Hamdi’s house I’m surprised to see that the lights are on and he has electricity, which was great as he had a fridge and a fan. It was as hot as hell and I was ready for some wind and a cold drink. However, it was now 0230am and I was totally knackered so I set up a bed in my room and went to sleep..