The Great Guelmim Tea Conspiracy

With our bikes prepped for the long road ahead and a scenic route to the West coast given to us by Peter we set off for Western Sahara.

Wild camping by night under the Milky Way, and getting more village-kid-high-fives by day we got to the coast with only one notably bizarre experience:
Sat eating brunch in a café in the town of Geulmim, Laas and I began talking to a pair of guys, one Moroccan and the other Mauritanian who were eager to hear about out trips and generally be sociable.

The Mauritanian had just come North to be with his Mother for the upcoming festival, so we asked if he had any tips for a quick and smooth border crossing.

“Tea.” He said.
“Lots of tea.”

And he explained how in the remote border area how everyday items become rarer and more expensive (except petrol), and that the Mauritanian Tea Ritual Obsession makes this the most valuable commodity, and that a kilogram would make us instant best friends with any guards and guarantee a speedy hassle-free experience.

This tea-trading concept appealed to me especially and soon enough Laas and I were leaving the nearest shop with two and a half kilos between us trying to squeeze it all into the limited luggage on our bikes. While we were doing this another guy came up loudly proclaiming that we didn’t have nearly enough tea, that we’d need it to buy food, water and petrol and that our money would only be paper in the Sahara. Apparently we needed to go to his shop to get more.

He laid it on so thick that the whole concept became ridiculous and unbelievable. We instantly felt like massive suckers and wondered how much of Guelmim’s economy relied on flogging overlanders Chinese tea with their ridiculous stories.

The original two guys were still being really friendly and talkative, and said they’d show us the best way through town to the main road.

So we got a low-speed-escort through town, our bikes covered in boxes of tea behind two 50cc pedal-start Chinese scooters, with a hearty farewell at the police checkpoint on the edge of town. Which was all a bit surreal.