Thu 24 Mar

We awake and dress at first light. Before sunrise we survey the site. It's my third dawn here and I'm excited as ever. Looking and waiting for the sun's first rays on the ancient architecture. From near, far, below; catching the ridge of a dune, long shadows. The first camel man of the day has seen us and habitually makes his way over just to double check whether we want an early morning ride to somewhere unspecified. I take the chance to photograph him. Through half closed eyes you can imagine he is a denizen of the desert – the same as it always has been.

Back at the gate house I take pictures – as before – of the souvenir ladies arriving for work. They always complain, but I reckon that their livelihood is tourism so they should put up with it. The first lady, true to tradition, prepares some tea and we finish off David's packet of biscuits. Our boys with the Toyota box arrive an hour later than arranged. The driver has insisted on getting last night's puncture fixed before we continue.

Our plan is to head north, up to Atbara. David has memories of the old rolling stock there and wonders if it's still to be seen. I remembered an art deco cinema that I had only seen from the outside and hoped to get a look inside. But most important to us and al the crew was the promise of a full, proper Sudanese breakfast. The later did not disappoint with liver, grilled lamb, and adis. The crew were in much better mood today. We treated them to breakfast so they felt obliged to treat us in return to tea and coffee. We chatted with the locals. One thought he knew where the railway engines were to be found. He accompanied us. But then on the way someone else suggested somewhere else.

Unfortunately, on a roundabout, we "cut-up" a vehicle that turned out to be driven by security police. They obliged us to accompany them back to their station where our companions unhelpfully divulged that we were wanting to take pictures of locomotives. The closest thing we had to permission was our photo permits which expressly exclude railway stations. These were collected in and considered behind closed doors. We knew we had done nothing wrong, and were very willing to make ourselves scarce, but nevertheless were now in the ridiculous situation of having to wait. The most plausible explanation for their paranoia was apparently they were on the highest alert for some polish "spys" and they just needed to check we were not them.

The cinema was not open and the caretaker no where to be found. We were now running late so we happily gave up on Atbara, altogether a rather unsatisfactory excursion, and set off south towards Khartoum – and for David his international flight later this evening.