Although the journey took forty hours, we spent eleven sitting at the border of Mauritania and Mali with our thumbs securely up our asses. We arrived around 1 a.m. groggy and bleary-eyed. Before I knew what the hell was happening, I'd handed someone my passport and was shuffled off into darkness. After I regained my senses, I realized we were standing on the Mauritanian side with nary a clue. Two minutes after kicking us out, the doors closed and the lights went out. Allow passengers to sleep on the bus? Are you mental? Let them sleep in the filth, I say!
Outside, I found a long line of voyagers sleeping on the ground. This included my group and another from Mali that had been waiting since 4:00 p.m. Misery loves company. We had a lot of company.
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