Into Algeria and on to Annaba…

Intrepidation as I saw the first sign directing me to the Algerian Border...

From the little town of Tabarka, a narrow road winds steeply up the mountainside and takes you through forests of scrubby pine and other “Fynbos” like patches of low bush before entering the parking lot of a surprisingly large border post, considering that it is in the “sticks”…

Getting out of Tunisia took about half an hour, much of it answering question like,

“But why you no take a plane?” and “You ride through Libya… But it is all desert, no…?” This last one with an incredulous look on the customs officer’s dark face…

Jars of honey and bags of nuts are sold on the roadside...

I rode out of Tunisia and into Algeria, hoping that I would not have any hassles here… It had taken such an effort to get the visa, that I had begun to think that they really didn’t want tourist to visit them… I needn’t have been concerned… Even though it took over two and a half hours for me to get through, ruining my plans for the 200 odd km run to Constantine before dark, I had a great time at the border, laughing and joking with the friendliest border personnel that I had yet come across…

The border officials were very helpful, insisting that they fill out all the forms for me… When I needed to pay for Insurance, they ran around looking for the guy who offers this service (on a very irregular basis considering how few foreign registered vehicles cross over into Algeria), and then when I did not have any Algerian currency to pay for the insurance, they arranged for me to change dollars with their customs officials… All this took a lot of time, as they do not do this as a rule, but they went out of their way to help me… Most of them spoke not a word of English, so they found a guy who worked in one of the back offices, who spoke passable English, and he was assigned to walk me around from counter to counter to make sure I got everything sorted out properly… This was way beyond any other service I received at any other border post…

The rolling hills after the border, thickly carpeted with scrub pine and coastal bush...

They advised me not to try for Constantine, as it was about 250 km away, and I would ride the last hour in darkness…

“Better to stay in Annaba… It is on the sea, and you will find beer there if you look hard enough,” the one guy said with a wink…

BMW has made a killing in Algeria... Every traffic cop rides one of these, and there are three of them at every checkpoint you come across...

Annaba was 100 km away and I left the border, and rode carefully into the setting sun, which was by now quite low in the sky and made me squint whenever I broke out of the shaded areas and into the bright sunlight… I nearly missed a few turns doing this, and had to brake sharply on a few occasions to keep the bike and I on track…

The road from the border is in superb condition, and in fact, all of the main roads in Algeria are either brand new, or are being resurfaced… It makes for good fast riding, when you are not going through the very twisty bits that is…!! And for the first 50 kms, that’s all I experienced… Technical riding that reminded me of the road to Katse Dam in Lesotho, except not nearly as steep… This road is up on a plateau, and the constructors have tried to keep it running all along the ridges of the mountain range it crosses…

What made things a little more difficult, are the hordes of honey sellers that line the route… Little stalls sometimes encroached on the narrow road side, and on one sharp right-hander, I had to straighten the bike up to avoid carting an umbrella and a few dozen bottle of honey along with me… Luckily there was no oncoming traffic, otherwise it would have been “tax and tickets” for me…

The scenery was beautiful, and now and again, the Mediterranean peeped out between the folds of the hills I was riding through… The road descended towards the coast, and ran through farmlands that reminded me of Europe, and even places in South Africa… For the next few days it remained like this… Orchards of apples, peaches and apricots, large swathes of land planted with wheat and barley, and acres of prickly pears, lined the route… The fruit on sale at the many stalls made me want to pull over and starting biting into them…

I passed literally hundreds of pickup trucks loaded to the gunwales with watermelons… Right across North Africa, from Egypt, through Libya, Tunisia and here in Algeria, you will find watermelons being sold next to the road, or being transported to a market someplace… The melons are carved into fantastic shapes to lure passers by… A watermelon here in Algeria cost about R2.00… Remember those days…?

Welcome to Annaba... And a warm and noisy welcome it turned out to be...!!

What is even better about Algeria, is that fuel costs just R2.30 a litre…!! I had ridden the tank well into reserve again, and just outside Annaba, I spent the equivalent of R47.00 for more than 20 litres of Algeria’s “sans plomb”… Unleaded, to you guys back in South Africa…

The Residence Hippone, Annaba, Algeria...

Annaba was jiving when I got there… Hundreds of people lined the concrete paving on the water’s edge, and traffic control was out in full force… I rode down the main street, dodging cars, buses and jaywalkers, and eventually on the northwestern side of town, stopped next to an officer directing traffic and asked about a hotel… Without dropping his hands to stop directing the traffic, he pointed down a side street with his chin and said, “Hotel Hippone…” He then stepped out in front of the oncoming traffic, signaled everybody to stop, and waved me across the busy four lanes and into the road leading up to the hotel…

In Tunisia and Algeria, there is a huge Police presence, and I have now learnt that they are the best people to ask about hotels, routes, fuel etc… They are always helpful and do their best to ensure that you understand what they are saying.(except for the one guy who caught me overtaking on a solid line, and gave me an earful in French, before clicking his tongue and waving me on…)

At the Hippone Hotel, I was greeted warmly, and within a few minutes had half a dozen employees shaking my hand and shouting “Afrique de Sud!” at the tops of their voices… It was a very festive scene, and we all trooped out into the street to see the bike, and they watched in fascination as I put the final African sticker onto my pannier… When I stood up, I raised my arms above my head and shouted “ALGERIA!!”

The Big Fella get a courtyard all to himself... He also had his "face" washed from the water in the fountain...

That got my back slapped a few dozen times more, and got me well set to negotiate the price of a room with the manager… After all the fanfare, I figured they would have a hard time sending me away if I told them I could not afford to stay there…!! There’s always a method, Dudes, you just gotta find the right buttons to push…!!

The manager then made a slight error of judgment, when he told me the TV in my room was not working, BEFORE commencing with said negotiations… I tried hard to keep a smile off my face while complaining that I had come to this hotel specifically to watch tonight’s game… (I wasn’t even sure who was playing, but did not let this little fact slip out during the discussion…!!) I got the price down from TDR 2 750.00 to TDR 1 500.00 and was well pleased with myself until I had to climb two very long flights of stairs to get to my room… I figured that having to expend so much energy getting to my room, entitled me to a further discount…!!

Although I had not got to where I wanted to be, I sat down to calculate how many kms I still had to ride to get to Oran, and how much time I still had left… I realized that I had made up a day by riding deeper into Tunisia than I had expected, and making a very long run from there into Algeria… I decided to spend two days here and set about getting some writing done, and exploring the streets surrounding the hotel… Actually, I went looking for a Sim card and the nearest internet café… Found both with the help of hotel security, and then bought some food to take up to my room… A large tin of “Tuna in Tomato Sauce”, a packet of finger biscuits and the three tubs of yoghurt had me feeling much better…

View from my window. The sheep bleated througout the day, probabaly complaining about the lack of fodder...

I spent the 8^th of July in my room, writing, reading and repacking some of my kit, and then walked down the road to the “Cyber CafÄ— du Annaba” where I sat for five straight hours getting my website updated and generally making a nuisance of myself with the staff there…

I got back to the Hippone at 9.00pm, having walked down a dark street in a rather unsavory neighborhood to do so… Nearer the hotel, things looked a little better, where street vendors selling fruit and veggies, all things “Made in China”, and hot spicy food cooked on open fires, lined the pavements… It was Thursday night, and the weekend was getting into full swing… The street had been blocked off while I was indoors and was now a large open marketplace… Word must have got around as to who I was, because a large group of young guys called out to me as I passed them…

“Hey Biker…!! Drink coffee wiz us…!!”

I accepted their invitation and had two shots of espresso while we struggled to understand each other… I wished I had my camera with me, as we made an interesting scene out there on our plastic chairs in the middle of a bustling street market…

I left them after an hour or so, explaining that I had to ride to Oran the next day, which had them shouting,

“Bon Courage…!!”

“Bon Chance…!!” and

“Bon Voyage, Biker…!”  as I strode back down the road, laptop under my arm and a spring in my step…

I would need all of those things in the coming weeks and months ahead, I thought to myself…

©GBWT 2010