“You're not in Paris, you know!”

The streets of Paris ...?

After almost a month in Khartoum, my paperwork is all finally in order and it’s time to move on to Ed Damer and what will be my new home for the next seven months.

There are some nerves about what I can expect there, but I’m also looking forward to settling in and being able to unpack after living essentially a transit lifestyle for more than three months – first in Rome and then in Khartoum.

Ed Damer is the capital of the River Nile State in north-eastern Sudan and about 300km from Khartoum. 

It lies across the bridge from neighbouring city Atbara, which sits at the junction of the Atbara and Nile rivers and was once the centre of the Sudanese railway industry, which has now fallen into decay.

Home away from home

I made the trip to Ed Damer by bus with Griselda – the British widow of famed Sudanese scholar Abdullah Tayib – who has kindly offered her vacant house for me and Rebecca’s use during our stay in Ed Damer.

Now in her 80s, Griselda has lived in Sudan since the 1950s and is somewhat of a minor celebrity here.

While we were buying bus tickets, locals snapped photos on their phones and watched on half in amusement, half in open admiration as she fired off orders to her entourage in rapid Arabic.

She might rely on a walking stick to get around, but there was nothing feeble about her scathing dismissal of the hawkers stubbornly haranguing us.

“Isn’t this just ghastly?” she says with posh British aplomb as she cuts a pass through the bustling marketplace and we board the bus. 

Despite the madness and chaos at the bus station, the journey itself was surprisingly civilized.

There’s perfumed air conditioning and light snacks and drinks were even provided. 

Farmlands around Ed Damer

Admittedly, there were some genuine moments of terror - most notably when the bus swerved - not once, but twice - to avoid an oncoming vehicle.

At this point rather than slowing down, the driver inexplicably accelerated, causing the bus to lurch dangerously off-road and almost tip over.

There were also several stops along the way for the men to pray and pee (women must hold on) and in the end it takes about five hours to cover the 300km distance.

Griselda is a lively conversationalist nevertheless and keeps me entertained me with stories of her and her husband's early life, as well as pointing out archaeology sites and other points of interest along the way.

The terrain for the large part is unrelentingly flat and dusty – empty except for a few nomadic goat herders and the spindly low-lying trees that somehow survive in the harsh desert environment.

The junction of the Atbara and Nile rivers

Later, some remarkable rocky outcrops break up the flatness of the landscape and the scenery becomes more dramatic.

As we pass close to the Meroë pyramids, orange-hued sand dunes rise out of the desert and the road suddenly cuts briefly through a small mountain pass.

Griselda’s niece Fadia and her husband Abdul-Raheem are waiting to pick us up at the station in Ed Damer.

It is already starting to get dark when we arrive, but in the distance I can see the familiar gait of camels moving nochalently across the shadows, as well as the distinctive tents of the nomadic tribal people scattered along the outskirts.

As we drive towards the town centre, Griselda turns to face me in the backseat: “So Katie, what do you think?” she asks gruffly … “You’re not in Paris, you know.”