Heron on the Nile
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  Friend to Stay Long Way Home  

Our relationship with the driver had never really matured. The return journey – though entirely on tarmac road – was taken unduly cautiously. We couldn't tell if this was some sort of work-to-rule, a withdrawal of goodwill, or whether there was something genuinely wrong with the engine. Expectations had not been managed well. More money was the only way to make up for the unforeseen misunderstandings. The amount of off-road driving, the extra fuel consumption, the extra hours at the wheel. I felt the driver was being extremely naïve – where else in the world is the job specified, tendered, awarded and then the contractor comes along saying he didn't realise what the costs were going to be?

Sudan hospitality being what it is, combined with reluctance to offend anyone, least of all the authorities, meant that at every police check point we readily agreed to take on passengers. At first we had three recently released penniless convicts wanting to get back home. The vehicle seemed to be going slower than ever. Then we were asked to take some returning soldiers. I got angry and refused. We were not going anywhere till they got out. They were astonished. No one had ever spolen to them or treated them like this before. Three was my maximum. My anger turns to disgust as they order the convicts out. In the end I have my way with the exception of one soldier who's apparently a neighbour or cousin of the driver. Who's hire is this anyway?

It was dark by the time we got back to Omdurman. The driver was looking for some sort of sympathy bonus. The original driver who had come along to show us the way and had spectacularly failed to do so was also put out that we had nothing for him. But he had been with us for two days? Surely that counts for something? Again, I felt this was naïve – should we be rewarding attendance or achievement?

David's check-in was not until 2am so we had plenty of time for a final packing session, and a final ful in the souk. Confusingly, Margie, who had been cool to frosty all week came and lay on the bedroom floor and tried to engage in deep and meaningful conversations. Tom, and Cleo had been out for the evening but dutifully got home in time to say farewell. (I thought this was kind of sweet, like well behaved children obliged to say the right thing to a departing dinner guest.)

I hired the usual amjad to collect us at half midnight and we head off for an ice-cream parlour in Amarat where we savour delicacies till it's time to go. Midhat arrived on his bicycle, complete with head torch and flashing rear lights. He and David had established a good relationship, but still I was touched Midhat had made the effort.

The time with David was busy, we packed a lot in, and occasionally things didn't always go to plan, but as you'd expect from a couple of Africa aficionados we took most things in our stride. David had brought me a copy of the new Bradt "Guide to Sudan", to which I had made a minor contribution and was flattered to see I had got a mention in the long list of thanks! I guess we had the privilege of being one of the first people to use it?

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