Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
make it through South Sudan had parted, and slowly, I began to see the real beauty in the
road along the river.
Perhaps because I'd read so much about its history, the name Khartoum evoked in
me images of towering minarets, bustling souqs, dusty back streets choked with camels,
donkeys and the crumbling remains of a colonialism that had been thrown out with the
rubbish. I thought of the great siege, of battlefields and whirling dervishes, of Winston
Churchill's last great cavalry charge at the Battle of Omdurman, when the British re-
claimed the Sudan in 1898; of shifty-looking Bedouin coming in from the desert to trade in
gum Arabic, silks and cotton. But, whilst all of this is there, the reality is that Khartoum is
also surprisingly modern, with wide avenues, modern banks and hotels sitting on the lush
riverside. After months of walking through the wilderness, this was the first metropolis I'd
seen since Kampala - and I entered the city with a sense of relief, even joy, at the prospect
of being surrounded by people, cars and a ready supply of food.
Khartoum began its existence as an outpost for the Egyptian army after Sudan had been
incorporated into Egypt in 1821. Soon, what was a resupply outpost for soldiers became a
centre for other kinds of trade as well, and Khartoum exploded as a thriving community.
Here, all the goods of Africa could be transported and traded - and, most infamous of all,
Khartoum became one of the hearts of the slave trade in central Africa. Key to this was the
river along which I had been walking - for it is in Khartoum that the White Nile merges
with its sister river, the Blue Nile.
The Blue Nile first erupts from Lake Tana in the heart of Ethiopia, and has already
flowed for 900 miles by the time it reaches Omdurman, the suburb of greater Khartoum
that sits on the west bank of the river. This confluence of the two great rivers makes Khar-
toum unique in Africa, a natural melting pot of peoples and cultures. It also marked the
last transformation in the river before the long trek to the delta, and I was eager to see it
for myself.
In the Acropole Hotel, I waited for Moez to pick me up. Our task for today was simple:
head north, through the city, to the point at which the rivers meet. From there, we would
cross into Omdurman on the west bank. There was one more provision we needed before
continuing the trek north - from Khartoum, we would enter the edges of the Sahara Desert,
and the bicycles we had fought doggedly to roll from the border would no longer suffice.
From here on in, we were going to need something more stalwart to ferry our packs - and
only camels would suffice.
As I waited for Moez, I leafed through a copy of
The Times
, left behind by another guest
on his return to the UK. On the front page, not for the first time, events in Sudan had made
world news. Beneath a damning headline lay the story of Meriam Ibrahim, a twenty-seven-
year-old Sudanese woman who also happened to be a doctor. After marrying a Christian
Sudanese man, educated in the USA, she had been accused of adultery and apostasy - the
