In no man’s land


Between the Moroccan and the Mauritanian border posts, there’s an apocalyptic, 5k long disowned buffer area, full of wrecked cars and plastic rubbish. I had to walk through under a grilling sun. My backpacks were heavy and I was sweating like a horse when I realised it was my first walk in the Sahara: through no man’s land, among minefields, on a dirt road, solo. And I was enjoying.

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