Explaining a long tiresome day briefly was difficult, though I tried.
The day began early. I was in a bus station at 6:00am, waiting for the bus to Aden, according to the request of the police in Mukalla to avoid the dangerous area in between. But I missed the bus, because I was waiting in the wrong place. (How could I know the station was different from where I bought my ticket?) I had to kill 5 hours to wait for the next bus at noon.
I got on the bus the second time, managed to push my fully loaded bike into the crowded baggage room. We came to the first military check point in about 100km. I gave a copy of the permit of my trip to Aden to a soldier (police and soldiers often work together). Somehow, one policeman there suspected its validity. He started making calls about it and didn't let the bus go. Not so long. But the bus driver got snapped instantly, and kicked me & my bike out of the bus. 
"Give my money back!"
I shouted. But he shouted back,
"Get it from the police!"
and drove away.
I had to wait by the roadside for a while till the chief of the check point came. He called some places and arranged my getting on the bus again.
His men put me & my bike on the back of a small truck with no roof, and started driving crazily fast to catch the bus. More than 100km/h for sure. The wind pressure was incredible, and finally blew my glasses away as I turned aside. They were gone out of my sight immediately.
I looked for them desperately on foot for some kilometers but in vain, while the irritated armed men in the truck followed me, tried sometimes to get me on the truck again. The bus was gone meanwhile. We went back to the first check point.
The chief arranged another truck for me, that time "to Aden". The new guys cooperated with me and drove slowly for some distance to look for my glasses, but we couldn't find them.
Fortune happened. A villager had found them on the road! We got the notice at one check point and hurried to the village. Yes, my glasses! We celebrated together with shaking hands and thanked Allah. That was the brief delighted moment of the day.
The sun set. The wind on the back of the truck became chilly and more severe. I thought we were going to Aden straight. But the truck stopped in one check point and I had to change trucks with other men. The guys, who laughed happily together when I got my glasses, asked for pocket money "for meal". Though it was just small amount which I gave, hardly enough for their tea and snack, it made me so disappointed. I had thought about treating them in Aden anyway.
Aden was far. I had to change trucks, then to cars, perhaps 7 or 8 times. I cannot recall well. My bike was pushed badly into the back of the cars each time and bags were pushed in corners or fell on the ground, but I couldn't care less at the end. Cars were often jammed with too many escorts. Two men asked for "money for benzine" with bloodshot eyes from chewing Khat. I refused. Loud Arabic Music annoyed me.
Finally at a check point near Aden after 11 o'clock, I was allowed to get off the car, and camp and sleep. It was noisy around with frequent traffic, but I soon fell asleep after dinner. I didn't notice my camera was damaged till the next morning. Having had a long argument with the manager of the bus company in Aden to get the money back for my bus ticket, is another story.
All for my "security".
17 Mar 2009, Mukalla-Aden (about 600km), Yemen
