31/1/05. Nouakchott.

A very unusual New Year's Eve. Sitting outside in shirt sleeves, drinking pastis, whisky, Heineken and Vin de Pays d'Oc with French people. We eat lobster and duck and I make them listen to AC/DC all night.

Note for ex-colleagues - a Mauritanian sound effects album will need at least the following:
-Squeal of brakes/anguished braying, as yet another euro-banger smacks into a donkey cart.
-Crunch of teeth meeting sand in a mouthful of fish.
-HHWWAAGGGGHHH of mucus being propelled into mouth. This can be used for anywhere south of Portugal as well.
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1 Jan 2005. NKT.

Traditional New Years Day mal a la tete shared by all at the Auberge. Later my little Dutch pals Robert and Mariska return from a week in the desert. We head off to Sans Souci for beer and live music. I step out to buy some fags and mistakenly turn left towards the Israeli embassy. For the first time in my life I find myself staring down the barrel of an automatic weapon, brandished by a very nervous-looking sentry. Hands up! Turn around and walk away! No argument from me, pal.