Sorry it's a late one tonight guys, I've been away since before 7 o'clock this morning on a training day ahead of the upcoming local elections and I am shattered, but I do bring fantastic news!
They've done it! I had a phone call from the hotel in Bamako earlier this evening on my way home. And from the looks of things, none of the other teams on the run beat them to it, so frankly it's yah boo sucks to their detractors! After eating their chicken and rice (so some food they have eaten is the kind of stuff you find ubiquitously on Earth then..) and spending a beautiful night under the stars with a moon so bright you could be forgiven for mistaking it for daylight, they'd had a change of heart about taking a few days to do the last 275 miles, mainly due to the fact that all the cars have a range of hiccups. Peg herself is still driving ok, but the clutch is slipping a little and the thermostat is wonky (which isn't great when it's 40 celsius outside). They've had a dusty day on the road, seeing miniature tornadoes and developing a strange illness they have named 'grouping cough' thanks to breathing in almost as much sand as air for the last 24 hours. The scenery gets much greener on the way into Bamako though, and it isn't the only contrast to note; apparently the level of affluence is much higher in the capital city and people are a bit more jaded, for example children who see the cars are well used to the fact that these kind of visitors give them presents and almost take it for granted, and some of the cars on the roads are better than the one mum has at home! They are installed in a nice hotel with a pool and a well-stocked bar, and wondering if they are doing the right thing by auctioning Peg in Bamako rather than taking her back into Mali and giving everything away there to people who clearly need it more.
The girls aren't due to fly home for another week yet, and with Peg ailing it might be best to forgo the last little stretch into Timbuktu as that was an optional extra anyway, so they are unsure what they want to do with the remaining time and are even considering just calling it all quits and coming home early (though knowing them it's infinitely more likely that in the light of day they will find a much more fun option). If you're feeling a little lost and anticlimactic too, you might be glad to know that I *finally* (with the help of my brother who knows what domain names Keith owns, because they have no Google listings) found the alternative account of this journey, as told by Jane to her husband, and it is here, so you can relive the trip with a whole different writing style, example photographs of the locations en route and I must say a lot more minute detail! Well done, Keith.
Saturday 26 January 2008
Friday 25 January 2008
A Clear Sky and an End in Sight
Today has gone well enough that there are only 275 miles left to go until the teams reach Bamako. A beautiful sunrise helped to get them moving for seven o'clock, and another crazy day's travelling began. I covered the most bizarre events of the day in my previous post, and it won't surprise anybody to learn that after those escapades, all the cars are limping a little. By 1pm they were over the border into Mali (which means the mobile phones work again - hurrah!) and encountering a déjà-vu situation with four rounds of random stops by customs officials and guards, all of whom (much like the ones in Northern Mauritania) demanded a fee for safe passage. At the point where a conman who clearly wasn't even a border guard decided to try his luck and stop them to demand €10 per vehicle, they decided enough was enough, drove around him and right off the road. They have all covered their number plates so they can't be seen from the road and tonight they have stopped outside Nioro to camp under the stars. At seven o'clock when I last spoke to mum, they were enjoying the stillness and could see the nearest village about two miles away across the plain, and hear the singing from it.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Certainly not the weary travellers. They all want to do different things at the end of the trip so they are likely to part ways soon, which will be something of a wrench after they have bonded so well, I imagine. It doesn't seem like they are going to push on to Bamako in a hurry now though - after all, it isn't a race. Maybe things will calm down for a little while and they will take it easy, but I'm sure I remember writing something like that before and getting it dead wrong!
Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Certainly not the weary travellers. They all want to do different things at the end of the trip so they are likely to part ways soon, which will be something of a wrench after they have bonded so well, I imagine. It doesn't seem like they are going to push on to Bamako in a hurry now though - after all, it isn't a race. Maybe things will calm down for a little while and they will take it easy, but I'm sure I remember writing something like that before and getting it dead wrong!
Predictably Unpredictable
After everything that was said last night about sticking to the black-top routes, I have just had a very quick chat via satellite phone with a very chaotic and giddy sounding mum, off piste and accidentally in the middle of the Budapest-Bamako rally. Mum and Jane have been interviewed for Dutch television and are being waved through by police because everyone thinks they are a team in the race!
Ken and Kenny's turbo has blown and is drinking oil, JJ and Martin's brakes are failing (after they already had to take two extra passengers when Ross and Kristen had to ditch their car), and I have no idea how Martin and Sarah are coping with a Ford Fiesta through the sand, but nobody seems especially worried to me. Is this part of the fun?
NB - if you look carefully you will find this post contains links to some of the Witches' friends' sites. Great to look at(particularly Dynamo Dysart's slick site, there are some photos in the blog of some of the places mum and Jane have travelled through, albeit with two grinning Irish lads blocking the view a bit but you can at least get the idea), but not as much news on them as this one - I'm guessing they don't have someone back home by a computer waiting for phone calls!
Ken and Kenny's turbo has blown and is drinking oil, JJ and Martin's brakes are failing (after they already had to take two extra passengers when Ross and Kristen had to ditch their car), and I have no idea how Martin and Sarah are coping with a Ford Fiesta through the sand, but nobody seems especially worried to me. Is this part of the fun?
NB - if you look carefully you will find this post contains links to some of the Witches' friends' sites. Great to look at(particularly Dynamo Dysart's slick site, there are some photos in the blog of some of the places mum and Jane have travelled through, albeit with two grinning Irish lads blocking the view a bit but you can at least get the idea), but not as much news on them as this one - I'm guessing they don't have someone back home by a computer waiting for phone calls!
Thursday 24 January 2008
Avez-vous une chambre avec gecko, s'il vous plait?
There has been an unscheduled break for the herd today: Are We There Yet are now the none-too-chuffed owners of a very broken Fiat Panda and will have to travel the rest of the way as passengers of Dynamo Dysart. Still, if you are going to stop, Kiffa is not a bad place to do it. The children of the village have been singing and women have brought their babies to meet the teams, and people are generally treating their white visitors as privileged guests. Mum's schoolgirl command of French is serving her well, as none of the rest of the group have a useable language, more and more words are returning to her as situations demand her to be able to order a room or similar. Facilities are basic to say the least, but they have found somewhere a little nicer to stay tonight than last night - ok so there are geckos in the bedroom and scorpions in the bathroom, but at least they won't be sleeping wrapped in their sleeping bag liners and mosquito nets tonight. Last night they ate camel - the general verdict is 'chewy, very chewy', but that's honestly not a complaint. Everyone has been humbled by the happiness and love in extreme poverty all around them. Mum and Jane wanted to empty the car and give everything away but for the sake of their survival they settled for giving away the football they took with them this afternoon, to some children from outside the village who were so scared of the strangers that they wouldn't accept the gift until it had been left by the road and the car driven away. They have also taken some excellent photos, so they say, so I shall look forward to seeing those!
Tomorrow has been made a little more difficult by today's realisation that the road they had intended to take is just too rough for two wheel drive vehicles (they still have a Fiesta in the convoy). They will have to take the one available black-top route into Mali instead, which adds around a hundred miles to the journey. Still, it should be much easier than crossing the last border. The border between Mauritania and Mali is pretty much imaginary and there certainly aren't the rigorous and frightening passport controls that exist to enter Mauritania from Morocco.
Tomorrow has been made a little more difficult by today's realisation that the road they had intended to take is just too rough for two wheel drive vehicles (they still have a Fiesta in the convoy). They will have to take the one available black-top route into Mali instead, which adds around a hundred miles to the journey. Still, it should be much easier than crossing the last border. The border between Mauritania and Mali is pretty much imaginary and there certainly aren't the rigorous and frightening passport controls that exist to enter Mauritania from Morocco.
So this is what they came for.
Well, the plan to find a comedy death hasn't come to fruition just yet. They came close last night, nearly driving into camels who were crossing the 'road' in the dark, after a very long hard day which saw the teams stuck at customs for six hours, then driving through a sandstorm for six hours, and then having a further six hours' driving to do in the dark before reaching their destination of Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania and finally getting some rest. Lunch was nothing as extravagant as some earlier meals in the trip - no rooftop terrace restaurants to be found in minefields in the western Sahara, so they cooked army ration pack issue beef stew on an engine block. At least it meant that they didn't have to dig into the remaining supply of Euros - good thing too as it would have meant unstuffing the money from mum's bra.
Today has been another long day of driving as promises have been made to friends and family to get through Mauritania and out again as quickly as possible. A tough day in its own way, too, although not in the same sense as yesterday. They have left behind the more arabian part of Africa for the real, baked red earth of the cradle of human existence. It's like driving through an issue of National Geographic, the world is a different colour and they are surrounded by the kinds of cattle and children that people who live in Pembrokeshire would only ever normally see on documentaries. Everyone travelling has turned as orange as the scenery around them just from the sheer amount of sand that gets everywhere. The population is markedly different here than in previous legs of the journey, and the people are touching the hearts of our heroines. My mum told me tonight that all she wanted was to go back and revisit the people she has seen and had all too little time to spend with today. They are living in rag tents, they own nothing, but she describes a radiant beauty and smiles like nothing she has ever seen. She and Jane are giving out lollipops as they did in Morocco, but now it is to children who don't even know what sweets are. The hassles of previous stops and security checks throw the warm welcome they are receiving from local officials en route through southern Mauritania into sharp relief; the guards are so happy to see the rally drivers, they wave, salute, cheer and smile.
Tonight they are staying in Kiffa, the satellite phone is working well, they have tasty camel to eat and there is an enormous and spectacular sky to gaze upon, with a full moon. They had hoped to camp tonight but ran out of light before they reached an appropriate place to stop again.
Today has been another long day of driving as promises have been made to friends and family to get through Mauritania and out again as quickly as possible. A tough day in its own way, too, although not in the same sense as yesterday. They have left behind the more arabian part of Africa for the real, baked red earth of the cradle of human existence. It's like driving through an issue of National Geographic, the world is a different colour and they are surrounded by the kinds of cattle and children that people who live in Pembrokeshire would only ever normally see on documentaries. Everyone travelling has turned as orange as the scenery around them just from the sheer amount of sand that gets everywhere. The population is markedly different here than in previous legs of the journey, and the people are touching the hearts of our heroines. My mum told me tonight that all she wanted was to go back and revisit the people she has seen and had all too little time to spend with today. They are living in rag tents, they own nothing, but she describes a radiant beauty and smiles like nothing she has ever seen. She and Jane are giving out lollipops as they did in Morocco, but now it is to children who don't even know what sweets are. The hassles of previous stops and security checks throw the warm welcome they are receiving from local officials en route through southern Mauritania into sharp relief; the guards are so happy to see the rally drivers, they wave, salute, cheer and smile.
Tonight they are staying in Kiffa, the satellite phone is working well, they have tasty camel to eat and there is an enormous and spectacular sky to gaze upon, with a full moon. They had hoped to camp tonight but ran out of light before they reached an appropriate place to stop again.
Tuesday 22 January 2008
Have You Got Any, er.. You Know..
Mum and Jane have become the drug dealers of the Plymouth-Timbuktu run. So far they have offloaded pain killers, two courses of antibiotics and they have a roaring trade in steroid inhalers. Well, nobody wants to sniffle and splutter their way across the Sahara, now do they?
The 'herd' took a rest day in Dakhla yesterday, eating in rooftop terraces overlooking the West African coast and being informed by local residents that the sand storm they had driven through the day before was in fact the worst the region had experienced in three years and the media had warned people not to go out in it. Ha! Softies! They didn't find Dakhla very exciting as a town, much less colour and vibrancy than Marrakesh, so they found themselves raring to go this morning. The japes continue apace as last night they planned to start today by throwing all the car keys in a pile and randomly taking a set per team - like the vehicle equivalent of a suburban wife swapping party - and driving each other's cars for half of today.
They have decided not to take a guide. This isn't as crazy as it may sound. They don't plan to go 'off piste' in the desert - there are hard top roads to go on through the desert, and in the trickier parts of the next leg, where the mine fields and so on are, the routes are already very well marked as they are the last of many groups to travel this way. They have radio contact between the five cars that are travelling together, and know how to navigate using GPS, so they ought to be quite safe.
The satellite phone is not working tonight, but one of the group's mobile phones can still miraculously get enough signal for an SMS message so I have been informed that all is well after their first day in Mauritania, and they will be in touch as soon as possible.
Sorry, I can't fulfil the request for more photographs as the one I included in an earlier post was sent to me when the teams were last at a hotel where the Irish boys could get an internet connection, but I can assure you that as soon as they are back home mum will need little encouragement to grace her blog with her own fair and witty presence and will no doubt fill pages with the photos she and Jane have taken all the way. There really will be pages, too - in keeping with their manic tendencies to prepare for every eventuality twice they did have memory card space between them for around 800-1000 shots.
The 'herd' took a rest day in Dakhla yesterday, eating in rooftop terraces overlooking the West African coast and being informed by local residents that the sand storm they had driven through the day before was in fact the worst the region had experienced in three years and the media had warned people not to go out in it. Ha! Softies! They didn't find Dakhla very exciting as a town, much less colour and vibrancy than Marrakesh, so they found themselves raring to go this morning. The japes continue apace as last night they planned to start today by throwing all the car keys in a pile and randomly taking a set per team - like the vehicle equivalent of a suburban wife swapping party - and driving each other's cars for half of today.
They have decided not to take a guide. This isn't as crazy as it may sound. They don't plan to go 'off piste' in the desert - there are hard top roads to go on through the desert, and in the trickier parts of the next leg, where the mine fields and so on are, the routes are already very well marked as they are the last of many groups to travel this way. They have radio contact between the five cars that are travelling together, and know how to navigate using GPS, so they ought to be quite safe.
The satellite phone is not working tonight, but one of the group's mobile phones can still miraculously get enough signal for an SMS message so I have been informed that all is well after their first day in Mauritania, and they will be in touch as soon as possible.
Sorry, I can't fulfil the request for more photographs as the one I included in an earlier post was sent to me when the teams were last at a hotel where the Irish boys could get an internet connection, but I can assure you that as soon as they are back home mum will need little encouragement to grace her blog with her own fair and witty presence and will no doubt fill pages with the photos she and Jane have taken all the way. There really will be pages, too - in keeping with their manic tendencies to prepare for every eventuality twice they did have memory card space between them for around 800-1000 shots.
Sunday 20 January 2008
Welcome on Board Dakhla Airlines, Wine Will be Served Shortly
Mum and Jane are playing at being air hostesses with their friends. No particular reason, just being bonkers as usual. They have arrived at the Regency Hotel in Dakhla so they are furnished with as much Western luxury as one can find in the Sahara.
En route today they practiced driving off road and navigated their way through sixty miles of non-stop sandstorm, running down their fuel reserves with some help from a couple of the other teams who asked their convoy/herd for help as they had completely run out and hadn't brought jerry cans. When they finally reached Dakhla they were able to empty a whole bucket of sand out of the air filter - a small proportion of the amount that had brought visibility down to ten feet and made strange noises pelting the cars.
There is a discussion planned for this evening - some of the teams in their convoy have promised family members at home that they wouldn't cross Mauritania, so this may be the point at which they part ways. However, given the improved state of affairs and reduced risk, they may come along the whole way. Whatever happens Mum and Jane will be going on to Timbuktu, and I will edit this post as soon as I hear about a final decision. edit 22:17 - They are definitely all going ahead! Exciting stuff, very happy news. Exciting enough to merit quite an alarming excess quantity of exclamation marks in the text message, apparently. And exciting unless you happen to be JJ's pregnant wife, just possibly. Very understanding wives these boys have.
En route today they practiced driving off road and navigated their way through sixty miles of non-stop sandstorm, running down their fuel reserves with some help from a couple of the other teams who asked their convoy/herd for help as they had completely run out and hadn't brought jerry cans. When they finally reached Dakhla they were able to empty a whole bucket of sand out of the air filter - a small proportion of the amount that had brought visibility down to ten feet and made strange noises pelting the cars.
There is a discussion planned for this evening - some of the teams in their convoy have promised family members at home that they wouldn't cross Mauritania, so this may be the point at which they part ways. However, given the improved state of affairs and reduced risk, they may come along the whole way. Whatever happens Mum and Jane will be going on to Timbuktu, and I will edit this post as soon as I hear about a final decision. edit 22:17 - They are definitely all going ahead! Exciting stuff, very happy news. Exciting enough to merit quite an alarming excess quantity of exclamation marks in the text message, apparently. And exciting unless you happen to be JJ's pregnant wife, just possibly. Very understanding wives these boys have.
Not in Kansas Any More!
There's only so much I can write in here, and it's all second hand words. I wish all of you could hear the tone of wonder in mum's voice at times. This is a huge experience, it's no holiday. Having said that, spirits are still high as they take the road for Dakhla - this may or may not have something to do with the fact that they and their friends have decided to go for the four star Regency hotel when they arrive in Dakhla, rather than go to the main campsite. The belief (and partial excuse) is that they will find a better class of guide there too. After Dakhla the roads truly disappear and all teams will need a guide to find their way across the Sahara. Mum and Jane are hoping to find one with very nice shiny sandals, who obviously doesn't end up walking very much!
Police checks are getting tougher but it seems they are much nicer with women, more willing to understand that they are on a charity mission too. Mum and Jane are thinking about going first in the convoy now because they are giving the boys at the front a much harder time. They've also divided up the goods for bribes across the vehicles, which was bound to happen sooner or later. At one point this morning the window stuck open after one of the checks, which needed to be repaired very quickly - it would be bad enough to have your window stuck open in Pembrokeshire today, as the wind is up here too, but at least here you would only have a fine drizzle blowing in. Instead they have an effect somewhat like sticking one's face in a sandblaster. It's mind boggling to think of the range of conditions on the planet where life can be found - there are still plenty of camels and hawks to be seen, it's a wonder they aren't sanded smooth!
It's not only roads that disappear the other side of Dakhla - we can't expect a mobile phone signal for around five days. Mum is going to check in each day using the satellite phone, but it may well have to be just a quick call to say they are ok, so for a while after today, updates might be reduced to a simple daily affirmation that everyone is alive and well, until they are through the other side of the sahara.
Police checks are getting tougher but it seems they are much nicer with women, more willing to understand that they are on a charity mission too. Mum and Jane are thinking about going first in the convoy now because they are giving the boys at the front a much harder time. They've also divided up the goods for bribes across the vehicles, which was bound to happen sooner or later. At one point this morning the window stuck open after one of the checks, which needed to be repaired very quickly - it would be bad enough to have your window stuck open in Pembrokeshire today, as the wind is up here too, but at least here you would only have a fine drizzle blowing in. Instead they have an effect somewhat like sticking one's face in a sandblaster. It's mind boggling to think of the range of conditions on the planet where life can be found - there are still plenty of camels and hawks to be seen, it's a wonder they aren't sanded smooth!
It's not only roads that disappear the other side of Dakhla - we can't expect a mobile phone signal for around five days. Mum is going to check in each day using the satellite phone, but it may well have to be just a quick call to say they are ok, so for a while after today, updates might be reduced to a simple daily affirmation that everyone is alive and well, until they are through the other side of the sahara.
Saturday 19 January 2008
Hot as the Hob of Hell.
Our intrepid adventurers made another early start this morning, after a very relaxing stay in the posh hotel, with one of the best meals they had ever eaten inside them. They had originally planned to do 450 miles today but decided to split the next leg on to Dakhla into three days' travel rather than two, so they can relax a little more.
Team Teletubbies haven't followed them on from the hotel last night - the five teams who stuck together in Gibraltar are now quite the dedicated herd, very attached to each other and with a whole collection of in-jokes to bond over - do you know anyone else who says "bastard apes!" (in honour of crazy Keith the Gibraltarian tour guide) when a photo is taken? Even so they haven't really lost track of other teams on the route - there was a happy meeting with some of the teams who are headed for Banjul rather than Timbuktu today, and they usually catch sight of other runners at the queues for security checks. There have been six police checks today on the road, but so far very few of them have wanted 'un petit cadeau' in return for safe passage, so with the watches they took with them for this precise eventuality, they still have a few dozen options when it comes to checking the time. Ken and Kenny win 'cheapest bribe', they managed to get away with giving one official a handsome souvenir of two humbugs and a biro!
After another comedy round-and-round lost session in a market town, on market day, stuck behind donkeys and cracking each other up on the radios, the teams headed into the Western Sahara. Roads here are very narrow, which makes overtaking very precarious, and so the drive is tiring even though it's quite straight. The scenery changes depending on how close to the coast they are - sometimes they are surrounded by argan bushes (from which a compound used inface creams all over the world is made, very useful when you are being sprayed with Birmingham Irish's dust!) and sometimes the fact that they are entering the desert is very real - they drove through their first sandstorm today, time to break out the Tilly hat! Best sights of the day have included shipwrecks on the skeleton coast and baby camels. It is very odd to think that they are only a relatively small number of miles inland from the island of Lanzarote, which will no doubt be a haven of bikini spotting and lager swilling even at this time of year...
They have reached Laayoune this evening and found themselves yet another smart hotel with wine and European style bathrooms. I'm not sure what happened to that resolution they all made a few days ago to "camp from now on", but they sound much happier this way! Plenty of 'roughing it' to come in the desert, anyway - one team in the group who are ahead of them have updated the main challenge website to say they have been eating chewy camel cooked by their Sahara guide, nice!
20:00 edited to add: Mum's just rung to ask me to include the quote of the evening: they're sitting in a fabulous restaurant eating awesome food, and they are discussing JJ's wife, who is pregnant - one of the other lads said his wife was in labour for 36 hours with one of their children, to which JJ looked aghast and said "36 hours! 36 hours?! I've never even done shit I like for 36 hours!"
Team Teletubbies haven't followed them on from the hotel last night - the five teams who stuck together in Gibraltar are now quite the dedicated herd, very attached to each other and with a whole collection of in-jokes to bond over - do you know anyone else who says "bastard apes!" (in honour of crazy Keith the Gibraltarian tour guide) when a photo is taken? Even so they haven't really lost track of other teams on the route - there was a happy meeting with some of the teams who are headed for Banjul rather than Timbuktu today, and they usually catch sight of other runners at the queues for security checks. There have been six police checks today on the road, but so far very few of them have wanted 'un petit cadeau' in return for safe passage, so with the watches they took with them for this precise eventuality, they still have a few dozen options when it comes to checking the time. Ken and Kenny win 'cheapest bribe', they managed to get away with giving one official a handsome souvenir of two humbugs and a biro!
After another comedy round-and-round lost session in a market town, on market day, stuck behind donkeys and cracking each other up on the radios, the teams headed into the Western Sahara. Roads here are very narrow, which makes overtaking very precarious, and so the drive is tiring even though it's quite straight. The scenery changes depending on how close to the coast they are - sometimes they are surrounded by argan bushes (from which a compound used inface creams all over the world is made, very useful when you are being sprayed with Birmingham Irish's dust!) and sometimes the fact that they are entering the desert is very real - they drove through their first sandstorm today, time to break out the Tilly hat! Best sights of the day have included shipwrecks on the skeleton coast and baby camels. It is very odd to think that they are only a relatively small number of miles inland from the island of Lanzarote, which will no doubt be a haven of bikini spotting and lager swilling even at this time of year...
They have reached Laayoune this evening and found themselves yet another smart hotel with wine and European style bathrooms. I'm not sure what happened to that resolution they all made a few days ago to "camp from now on", but they sound much happier this way! Plenty of 'roughing it' to come in the desert, anyway - one team in the group who are ahead of them have updated the main challenge website to say they have been eating chewy camel cooked by their Sahara guide, nice!
20:00 edited to add: Mum's just rung to ask me to include the quote of the evening: they're sitting in a fabulous restaurant eating awesome food, and they are discussing JJ's wife, who is pregnant - one of the other lads said his wife was in labour for 36 hours with one of their children, to which JJ looked aghast and said "36 hours! 36 hours?! I've never even done shit I like for 36 hours!"
Friday 18 January 2008
From Neverwhere to Nowhere
Arrival in Marrakesh was a breeze - the police waved them through with no security checks or anything (must know who they are, darling!), and they found their hotel without too much trouble. After just one night of camping, the standards by which luxury are judged had come down considerably, and even though the bedroom was tiled and the bathroom wasn't, even though every time two appliances were plugged in the lights flickered, even though there was a three inch gap between the bottom of the curtain and the bottom of the window, it was cause for celebration just to have a bed to sleep in.
Not long after the last time I posted, my little brother had an unexpected phone call from mum, who was having a problem explaining to the local 'fixer' in Marrakesh what was wrong with the car. What use is a son with a degree in French and German if he can't find some way of talking about gearboxes with anyone in the world? He did some sterling work under pressure, and Peg was duly taken away and brought back three hours later with a functioning starter motor and four whole gears - excellent! And all or the equivalent of about £50. They had a salad in a roof bar listening to the prayer call, considered buying a camel but decided they didn't have space to carry it, and then re-packed the car when she was brought back, struggling to maintain equally easy access to shorts and thermal underwear as both are equally necessary over the next leg of the journey, depending on what time of day it is.
As that was sorted out, a nice meal seemed in order, so rather than stay at the hotel, the team were brave enough to take along their usual companions to try the tajine at the soukh. Mum was blown away by the transformation of the square: by day there are stalls selling almost anything you can think of (no Burger King though, sorry Cheryl!), including various things that are difficult to even identify a possible use for, and snake charmers (which isn't their friend Ross's favourite part - he hates snakes so much that apparently he likes to get up at 3am just to hate them some more when they're least expecting it); by night it -is- the floating market from Neverwhere - incense smoke mingling with food smoke and a heady mix of scents, all backlit by the lights on the mosque. There was almost an altercation about the price of the meal - traders in Marrakesh are quite savvy about tourists and how much extra they might get away with charging - but there was a fast attitude adjustment when it became obvious that the twelve of them (including ex-army nutters) didn't want to pay vastly over the odds.
Yesterday was a day off in Marrakesh, the girls did plan to go handbag shopping but found the soukh too draining in the end to carry on. There are tiny children pestering and trying to sell rubbish, and women with babies pleading for money and food, and mum and Jane must have soft written all over them, because they were targeted instantly by any of these kind of beggars. They were finding it very difficult. The other teams caught up at the hotel by the end of the day as well, and after another evening surrounded by boisterous british banter, they decided to reconvene at the car park at 7am for a quick getaway.
Today's drive was nothing short of spectacular, despite the fact that Peg's second gear has gone again. The Tiz-n-Test pass runs 6800ft above sea level, through ice and snow and back down into 41 degree heat, cacti, lemon and orange groves, and slowly encroaching desert. Photographs are not allowed up there, some teams have been in trouble for taking them, but mum says it would be difficult to take any that really conveyed the place accurately anyway as everything is a sandy colour. There are houses just cut into the rock in the mountains, and no western people at all. Children ran from their homes to wave, and chased the car for a mile just for a lollipop. OK, that sounds wrong - I don't mean they were holding a lollipop out of the window and taunting exhausted infants running behind them, I mean when they stopped they found children ran to them! On the other side of the mountains, the land was very arid apart from the odd fruit grove, and donkeys laden 12ft wide with some kind of green herb. The teams drove until 7pm, when they reached the small coast town near Tiznit where they had planned to camp for the night. Bad things happened! They should have taken the donkey who joined in with the muezzin (and did a better job) as an omen rather than a comedy moment, perhaps... The camping site was closed and would have been too small for all the teams in any case, and then when they drove back into town they found there were only three hotels - the one they settled for first had communal bathrooms and so on but was acceptable, apart from one small hiccup: they hadn't factored in consideration of the fact their vehicles may need protection! As soon as they walked away from the cars, local people approached and began trying the doors of them, and there was generally a very threatening atmosphere. It didn't take long to reach the conclusion that whatever the cost, there wasn't really any other option than the very smart ex-french-fort hotel on top of the hill, with the secure parking compound. As it turns out, it wasn't all that expensive, and the price includes dinner and breakfast - hurrah, they have found themselves staying in the place with what may well be the last European style loo on this trip!
Here's a photo of mum and Jane, along with Birmingham Irish, Dynamo Dysart, Are We There Yet, Bob Mali and Teletubbies. Don't they all look happy?
Not long after the last time I posted, my little brother had an unexpected phone call from mum, who was having a problem explaining to the local 'fixer' in Marrakesh what was wrong with the car. What use is a son with a degree in French and German if he can't find some way of talking about gearboxes with anyone in the world? He did some sterling work under pressure, and Peg was duly taken away and brought back three hours later with a functioning starter motor and four whole gears - excellent! And all or the equivalent of about £50. They had a salad in a roof bar listening to the prayer call, considered buying a camel but decided they didn't have space to carry it, and then re-packed the car when she was brought back, struggling to maintain equally easy access to shorts and thermal underwear as both are equally necessary over the next leg of the journey, depending on what time of day it is.
As that was sorted out, a nice meal seemed in order, so rather than stay at the hotel, the team were brave enough to take along their usual companions to try the tajine at the soukh. Mum was blown away by the transformation of the square: by day there are stalls selling almost anything you can think of (no Burger King though, sorry Cheryl!), including various things that are difficult to even identify a possible use for, and snake charmers (which isn't their friend Ross's favourite part - he hates snakes so much that apparently he likes to get up at 3am just to hate them some more when they're least expecting it); by night it -is- the floating market from Neverwhere - incense smoke mingling with food smoke and a heady mix of scents, all backlit by the lights on the mosque. There was almost an altercation about the price of the meal - traders in Marrakesh are quite savvy about tourists and how much extra they might get away with charging - but there was a fast attitude adjustment when it became obvious that the twelve of them (including ex-army nutters) didn't want to pay vastly over the odds.
Yesterday was a day off in Marrakesh, the girls did plan to go handbag shopping but found the soukh too draining in the end to carry on. There are tiny children pestering and trying to sell rubbish, and women with babies pleading for money and food, and mum and Jane must have soft written all over them, because they were targeted instantly by any of these kind of beggars. They were finding it very difficult. The other teams caught up at the hotel by the end of the day as well, and after another evening surrounded by boisterous british banter, they decided to reconvene at the car park at 7am for a quick getaway.
Today's drive was nothing short of spectacular, despite the fact that Peg's second gear has gone again. The Tiz-n-Test pass runs 6800ft above sea level, through ice and snow and back down into 41 degree heat, cacti, lemon and orange groves, and slowly encroaching desert. Photographs are not allowed up there, some teams have been in trouble for taking them, but mum says it would be difficult to take any that really conveyed the place accurately anyway as everything is a sandy colour. There are houses just cut into the rock in the mountains, and no western people at all. Children ran from their homes to wave, and chased the car for a mile just for a lollipop. OK, that sounds wrong - I don't mean they were holding a lollipop out of the window and taunting exhausted infants running behind them, I mean when they stopped they found children ran to them! On the other side of the mountains, the land was very arid apart from the odd fruit grove, and donkeys laden 12ft wide with some kind of green herb. The teams drove until 7pm, when they reached the small coast town near Tiznit where they had planned to camp for the night. Bad things happened! They should have taken the donkey who joined in with the muezzin (and did a better job) as an omen rather than a comedy moment, perhaps... The camping site was closed and would have been too small for all the teams in any case, and then when they drove back into town they found there were only three hotels - the one they settled for first had communal bathrooms and so on but was acceptable, apart from one small hiccup: they hadn't factored in consideration of the fact their vehicles may need protection! As soon as they walked away from the cars, local people approached and began trying the doors of them, and there was generally a very threatening atmosphere. It didn't take long to reach the conclusion that whatever the cost, there wasn't really any other option than the very smart ex-french-fort hotel on top of the hill, with the secure parking compound. As it turns out, it wasn't all that expensive, and the price includes dinner and breakfast - hurrah, they have found themselves staying in the place with what may well be the last European style loo on this trip!
Here's a photo of mum and Jane, along with Birmingham Irish, Dynamo Dysart, Are We There Yet, Bob Mali and Teletubbies. Don't they all look happy?
Wednesday 16 January 2008
Sorry, sorry, sorry!
48 hours without a update, I know! I have tried putting my hands on my hips and telling my router quite curtly that the day that mum and Jane cross into Africa is NOT the time to to stop working, but will it listen? No. Maybe it's trying to tell it with a heavy cold, it just isn't taking me seriously. In any case I am at a friend's house borrowing his machine.
So, where were we? The decision had been taken to stay in Gibraltar for an extra day, which they used for a trip up the Rock where the new Irish ex-army friends' influence became evident with a text message from mum that read "How big are the feckin monkeys?! Feck I am not kicking that!", with a crazy Gibraltar-born Spanish-hating guide named Keith who encouraged them to scramble round security fences and take a peek across the water for their first look at Africa, while he stopped for a brandy. And they needed to get the starter motor repaired. Well, that repair was successful, but it turns out mum wasn't joking when she described Peg in the profile for this blog as 'temperamental'. No sooner was one problem sorted than another arose - now they are driving with only first, third and occasionally fourth gears. Fun, especially now they are in Morocco where the word 'motorway' is something of a misnomer and actually just means that tarmac isn't at as much of a premium as on the normal 'roads', so the potholes are few enough that you can engage in fun games like passing sweeties from one car in the convoy to another at 70mph!
At 8am yesterday morning, they got on the Ferry to Ceuta, dresses and tiaras bought for the tea party they're going to have in the desert, looking mad in the queue in all the stickered British cars with four other teams: Bob Mali, Birmingham Irish, Are We There Yet and Dynamo Dysart. A quick half hour crossing, so by 10 o'clock they were... passing the port for the fourth time. Ace. Like the Italian job, only reset in Morocco with three gears. I would love to have been listening in on the radio conversations! They did eventually find their way out of Ceuta and made for Rabat through surprisingly verdant scenery, stopping en route for a pizza with chilli oil that they had no idea how much they were being charged for, and to partake in a little car roof surfing as suggested by Ken. Started seeing all those bizarre things that you see on 'rough guide' type programmes on television and never believe; like three people to one moped, and people carrying huge bundles on their backs, flocks of storks, cork trees, donkeys everywhere and locals wearing strange hats that look like a sombrero with a point and tassels, like a standard lamp disguise!
The boys have insisted on camping from now on apart from the one night they spend in Marrakesh, so there was no need to set an alarm for this morning's early start as mum's back woke her up with a spasm that threatened to stop her moving at all, never mind driving, at 4 o'clock. I shall leave it to her to make any comment about camping at her time of life! Downtown Rabat in the morning is enough of an adrenaline shot to have made her forget about that pretty fast though- all colour and movement, much of it made up of cars heading in all directions at once very fast! Today they are heading for Marrakesh, so they get to stay in a real hotel for the last time in a week. They have somewhat given up on glamour, resorting to covering their unruly hair with hats and behaving as though they have won the lottery when they found a garage with clean toilets this morning. It's getting hotter as they head south(ish) and there is yet more for them to see, like the man grazing his sheep on both sides of the motorway (I did say it wasn't quite a motorway as we know them, didn't I?), cactus fences, and the view of the snow-capped Atlas mountains ahead despite the heat as they approached Marrakesh. As I write they have just arrived in the city, heading for their hotel, and the traffic is 'mad' - and I take that to mean something quite different from when one says it about the trip to work in the school run traffic in Haverfordwest...
The plan for today is to find a mechanic to have a look at Peg, and to meander around the spice markets. It's hot there now (hard to imagine from Britain, which is cold, grey, and half underwater)and the local people are nice, though they seem to find mum and Jane funny.. can't imagine why. Maybe the fact that they haven't quite adjusted to the cars, donkeys and scooters from all sides tells on their faces, or in their screams. Who knows?
So, where were we? The decision had been taken to stay in Gibraltar for an extra day, which they used for a trip up the Rock where the new Irish ex-army friends' influence became evident with a text message from mum that read "How big are the feckin monkeys?! Feck I am not kicking that!", with a crazy Gibraltar-born Spanish-hating guide named Keith who encouraged them to scramble round security fences and take a peek across the water for their first look at Africa, while he stopped for a brandy. And they needed to get the starter motor repaired. Well, that repair was successful, but it turns out mum wasn't joking when she described Peg in the profile for this blog as 'temperamental'. No sooner was one problem sorted than another arose - now they are driving with only first, third and occasionally fourth gears. Fun, especially now they are in Morocco where the word 'motorway' is something of a misnomer and actually just means that tarmac isn't at as much of a premium as on the normal 'roads', so the potholes are few enough that you can engage in fun games like passing sweeties from one car in the convoy to another at 70mph!
At 8am yesterday morning, they got on the Ferry to Ceuta, dresses and tiaras bought for the tea party they're going to have in the desert, looking mad in the queue in all the stickered British cars with four other teams: Bob Mali, Birmingham Irish, Are We There Yet and Dynamo Dysart. A quick half hour crossing, so by 10 o'clock they were... passing the port for the fourth time. Ace. Like the Italian job, only reset in Morocco with three gears. I would love to have been listening in on the radio conversations! They did eventually find their way out of Ceuta and made for Rabat through surprisingly verdant scenery, stopping en route for a pizza with chilli oil that they had no idea how much they were being charged for, and to partake in a little car roof surfing as suggested by Ken. Started seeing all those bizarre things that you see on 'rough guide' type programmes on television and never believe; like three people to one moped, and people carrying huge bundles on their backs, flocks of storks, cork trees, donkeys everywhere and locals wearing strange hats that look like a sombrero with a point and tassels, like a standard lamp disguise!
The boys have insisted on camping from now on apart from the one night they spend in Marrakesh, so there was no need to set an alarm for this morning's early start as mum's back woke her up with a spasm that threatened to stop her moving at all, never mind driving, at 4 o'clock. I shall leave it to her to make any comment about camping at her time of life! Downtown Rabat in the morning is enough of an adrenaline shot to have made her forget about that pretty fast though- all colour and movement, much of it made up of cars heading in all directions at once very fast! Today they are heading for Marrakesh, so they get to stay in a real hotel for the last time in a week. They have somewhat given up on glamour, resorting to covering their unruly hair with hats and behaving as though they have won the lottery when they found a garage with clean toilets this morning. It's getting hotter as they head south(ish) and there is yet more for them to see, like the man grazing his sheep on both sides of the motorway (I did say it wasn't quite a motorway as we know them, didn't I?), cactus fences, and the view of the snow-capped Atlas mountains ahead despite the heat as they approached Marrakesh. As I write they have just arrived in the city, heading for their hotel, and the traffic is 'mad' - and I take that to mean something quite different from when one says it about the trip to work in the school run traffic in Haverfordwest...
The plan for today is to find a mechanic to have a look at Peg, and to meander around the spice markets. It's hot there now (hard to imagine from Britain, which is cold, grey, and half underwater)and the local people are nice, though they seem to find mum and Jane funny.. can't imagine why. Maybe the fact that they haven't quite adjusted to the cars, donkeys and scooters from all sides tells on their faces, or in their screams. Who knows?
Monday 14 January 2008
Just how does one Burgerk?
Jane is in Burger King! Culture shock or what?!
Another proper job has been done on Peg - split housing? No problem, just give me some wire ties, wood and a big hammer...
Another proper job has been done on Peg - split housing? No problem, just give me some wire ties, wood and a big hammer...
nN + xAB (where N = Nutters and AB = Alcoholic Beverages) = chaos. Find value of n and x.
If the night before last could be described as 'wild' then I am really not sure how one defines the goings on yesterday evening. Far more people than was really comfortable from what I can ascertain - apparently there is a threshold number of rally-goers that can gather in one place and remain civilised and when this is broken, people start to graffiti each other's cars with things like "The Witches tried to turn these two men into handsome princes but the spell didn't work".
Happily, the more testosterone-fuelled and macho-ego teams are mostly kept at bay by the friends mum and Jane had already made, and many of them have left for Africa this morning whereas Peg has dictated (by refusing to stay fixed) another day's stop in Gibraltar. They are out in Algeciras (which between mum's pronunciation and my cloth ears always sounds like Al Jazeera and worries me slightly) this morning, going to a garage where hopefully they will have more effective tools and parts than blocks of old wood. They are also hoping to squeeze in a little shopping - can you believe they left their ballgowns and pearls behind and have to buy replacements en route? Tch, honestly! With that and the china cups and saucers, and the dinner jackets, I am looking forward to photographs of a very dressy tea party in the desert.
So, the ferry crossing has been postponed until Tuesday, but they certainly won't be going alone as they have formed quite a tight little clique with Birmingham Irish and Dynamo Dysart, and will possibly have Team Are We There Yet along too. If nothing else, humour will keep them rolling; every time I speak to mum she sounds like she has just stopped laughing at something faux-coarse the lads have come out with.
The other important piece of news from over the weekend is that mum has given up smoking. She had three or four cigarettes while crossing Europe (obviously opportunities were scarce as she didn't want to gas Jane) and then decided after a chat with Kenny that she didn't need them and handed them over! Congratulations mummy!
For anyone who is reading this blog and wants to keep track of all the teams I am mentioning, and see mum and Jane's SMS updates, click here and look at the field reports for group five.
11:50 edited to add: The car is now fixed again.
Happily, the more testosterone-fuelled and macho-ego teams are mostly kept at bay by the friends mum and Jane had already made, and many of them have left for Africa this morning whereas Peg has dictated (by refusing to stay fixed) another day's stop in Gibraltar. They are out in Algeciras (which between mum's pronunciation and my cloth ears always sounds like Al Jazeera and worries me slightly) this morning, going to a garage where hopefully they will have more effective tools and parts than blocks of old wood. They are also hoping to squeeze in a little shopping - can you believe they left their ballgowns and pearls behind and have to buy replacements en route? Tch, honestly! With that and the china cups and saucers, and the dinner jackets, I am looking forward to photographs of a very dressy tea party in the desert.
So, the ferry crossing has been postponed until Tuesday, but they certainly won't be going alone as they have formed quite a tight little clique with Birmingham Irish and Dynamo Dysart, and will possibly have Team Are We There Yet along too. If nothing else, humour will keep them rolling; every time I speak to mum she sounds like she has just stopped laughing at something faux-coarse the lads have come out with.
The other important piece of news from over the weekend is that mum has given up smoking. She had three or four cigarettes while crossing Europe (obviously opportunities were scarce as she didn't want to gas Jane) and then decided after a chat with Kenny that she didn't need them and handed them over! Congratulations mummy!
For anyone who is reading this blog and wants to keep track of all the teams I am mentioning, and see mum and Jane's SMS updates, click here and look at the field reports for group five.
11:50 edited to add: The car is now fixed again.
Sunday 13 January 2008
Rocking the Rock!
After a fairly wild night of lowering the tone in a posh Italian restaurant with 12 other people crazy enough to take on this challenge (including portuguese Team Zissou, who are the only team to have started from the Paris-Dakar starting line this year), a leisurely start was made on fixing Peg this morning. That air jack (that so many people said they wouldn't need) was put to good use, and as mum and Jane's vehicle was the only one in need of repair a large cast of friendly, lovely people assembled to help out. Ken and Kenny AKA Birmingham Irish took the car to pieces and discovered that the housing for the starter motor was in a sorry state, with a bolt entirely sheared off, but with the help of Dynamo Dysart, blocks of old wood, plastic metal and a dash of genius they got it fixed in time for lunch. The witches are very grateful indeed.
Now it is time to relax in the Gibraltar sunshine with the other teams who have got this far, before crossing into Morocco tomorrow. At last report Witches Abroad, Birmingham Irish, Bob Mali and Dynamo Dysart were having an hilarious trial run of travelling in convoy with radio contact, heading out for some great olives and seafood overlooking the Rock.
It turns out that the flip-down dining table in the back of the car and the rather classy rations packed inside do not make our mad women any madder than the other teams out there - Birmingham Irish have packed china cups and saucers from which to take their morning Earl Grey, and Team Running Amok have packed dinner jackets!
Now it is time to relax in the Gibraltar sunshine with the other teams who have got this far, before crossing into Morocco tomorrow. At last report Witches Abroad, Birmingham Irish, Bob Mali and Dynamo Dysart were having an hilarious trial run of travelling in convoy with radio contact, heading out for some great olives and seafood overlooking the Rock.
It turns out that the flip-down dining table in the back of the car and the rather classy rations packed inside do not make our mad women any madder than the other teams out there - Birmingham Irish have packed china cups and saucers from which to take their morning Earl Grey, and Team Running Amok have packed dinner jackets!
Saturday 12 January 2008
Made it!
This far at least...
The end of another eventful day, and the Witches did manage to get Peg all the way to Gibraltar, where there is a distinct party atmosphere by now. They were the second team to arrive at the hotel (so much for worrying about not having left enough time) and all evening people have been arriving, swapping stories, and laughing.
Another of the teams, Birmingham Irish, have offered to help fix Peg's starter motor - such is the spirit of camaraderie and friendship. Good thing too - another incident like the one earlier today, when the girls were lost and stopped to ask for directions, only to have to push the car right up to a security barrier to get it started again, may well get them shot before they even leave Europe!
Of course, the major tragedy of the day needs to be reported. You may think that having to keep moving for fear of never starting the vehicle again for 300+ miles is bad; you may feel that the worst point would be driving by Torremolinos and feeling a bizarre compulsion to sing tawdry holiday songs. But these pale into insignificance when placed beside the nightmare that is poor Jane being forced to eat a *twinky*. She may never fully recover!
The end of another eventful day, and the Witches did manage to get Peg all the way to Gibraltar, where there is a distinct party atmosphere by now. They were the second team to arrive at the hotel (so much for worrying about not having left enough time) and all evening people have been arriving, swapping stories, and laughing.
Another of the teams, Birmingham Irish, have offered to help fix Peg's starter motor - such is the spirit of camaraderie and friendship. Good thing too - another incident like the one earlier today, when the girls were lost and stopped to ask for directions, only to have to push the car right up to a security barrier to get it started again, may well get them shot before they even leave Europe!
Of course, the major tragedy of the day needs to be reported. You may think that having to keep moving for fear of never starting the vehicle again for 300+ miles is bad; you may feel that the worst point would be driving by Torremolinos and feeling a bizarre compulsion to sing tawdry holiday songs. But these pale into insignificance when placed beside the nightmare that is poor Jane being forced to eat a *twinky*. She may never fully recover!
Val de Penis?!
No, not quite.. that would be Valdespino you're heading for, Jane!
It is a beautiful sunny day in rural Spain, perfect weather to take in the sights around them as mum drives the first leg of today's journey. Donkeys and olive groves, all the real Spain that most Brits don't see as they fly into and out of Malaga and stay within the confines of the artificial tourist districts. Mum and Jane are enjoying the looks they get as women doing 'this sort of thing' as much as anything, I think, though even they are not sure whether they count as women any more rather than old ladies - apparently there has been a fair bit of discussion comparing bowel and urine status (don't blame me, I'm just the messenger). They have had Peg up to 70mph today but won't be doing it very much as it is frightening enough with all that weight on board, and when you take into account that local roads are very narrow and passing lorries is nerve wracking, well, it just makes sense to slow down a little.
I must apologise for a mistake I made in my previous reports - the ferry crossing from Gibraltar is not ON the 13th, that is the date for meeting the other teams at the prearranged hotel, where they will stay on the 13th and 14th. So, a rest after today's drive. Well, a sort-of rest and a chance to see to some issues with Peg, who frightened mum today by jumping out of gear at 75mph and still has a distaste for lightbulbs.
Oh. Oh. Oh dear. Just got a message literally while writing to tell me the starter motor has gone, and they have bump started her (HOW with the amount of weight on board I do not know) and plan to keep her running until Gibraltar, so around 300 miles... good thing they just stopped for a loo break! Still, better progress than some of the other teams: 2 Old Farts Ride Again have gone down with the Noro virus and are stuck in Caen at last report; Cav's Caper have lost their clutch in the Pyrenees and many other teams are barely into France. At this stage in proceedings it should be entirely possible to find a mechanic. And entirely sensible to get everything back into as tip-top a condition as possible before crossing into Africa! I have texted them the Spanish for "My car doesn't work, it's the starter motor" just in case they need it, and got a message back which just about spells out their attitude: it "all adds to the story" apparently!
It is a beautiful sunny day in rural Spain, perfect weather to take in the sights around them as mum drives the first leg of today's journey. Donkeys and olive groves, all the real Spain that most Brits don't see as they fly into and out of Malaga and stay within the confines of the artificial tourist districts. Mum and Jane are enjoying the looks they get as women doing 'this sort of thing' as much as anything, I think, though even they are not sure whether they count as women any more rather than old ladies - apparently there has been a fair bit of discussion comparing bowel and urine status (don't blame me, I'm just the messenger). They have had Peg up to 70mph today but won't be doing it very much as it is frightening enough with all that weight on board, and when you take into account that local roads are very narrow and passing lorries is nerve wracking, well, it just makes sense to slow down a little.
I must apologise for a mistake I made in my previous reports - the ferry crossing from Gibraltar is not ON the 13th, that is the date for meeting the other teams at the prearranged hotel, where they will stay on the 13th and 14th. So, a rest after today's drive. Well, a sort-of rest and a chance to see to some issues with Peg, who frightened mum today by jumping out of gear at 75mph and still has a distaste for lightbulbs.
Oh. Oh. Oh dear. Just got a message literally while writing to tell me the starter motor has gone, and they have bump started her (HOW with the amount of weight on board I do not know) and plan to keep her running until Gibraltar, so around 300 miles... good thing they just stopped for a loo break! Still, better progress than some of the other teams: 2 Old Farts Ride Again have gone down with the Noro virus and are stuck in Caen at last report; Cav's Caper have lost their clutch in the Pyrenees and many other teams are barely into France. At this stage in proceedings it should be entirely possible to find a mechanic. And entirely sensible to get everything back into as tip-top a condition as possible before crossing into Africa! I have texted them the Spanish for "My car doesn't work, it's the starter motor" just in case they need it, and got a message back which just about spells out their attitude: it "all adds to the story" apparently!
Friday 11 January 2008
Tapas in Toledo
The latest message I have to pass on to you all, dear readers, is that our girls have booked into a posh hotel in Toledo and are just off for tapas in the old town. A much-needed pleasant end to a rather stressful day which included a blizzard at 4800 feet as previously mentioned, reaching the landmark one thousand miles driven, some blown bulbs (maybe a person with a tendency to make electrical things go pop when tense is not the best suited to this kind of adventure), a windscreen wiper repair in driving mountain rain, rush hour driving through Madrid (described in the telegraph-style text message as simply "a nightmare") and a mysterious smell of burning for which no source can be found. What was that I wrote this morning about things seeming more relaxed?!
Biarritz to Toledo is over 350 miles, so now there are less than 400 miles to cover in order to reach the meeting point for the ferry to Morocco on Sunday. Going well! Feel free to comment with messages of envy and support, they all get passed on.
Biarritz to Toledo is over 350 miles, so now there are less than 400 miles to cover in order to reach the meeting point for the ferry to Morocco on Sunday. Going well! Feel free to comment with messages of envy and support, they all get passed on.
Ventisca!
As I sit in a cosy chair and type about their progress, mum and Jane are driving down out of the Pyrenees mountains towards Madrid, in a snowstorm. Luckily they are a little way behind a snow plough so although it is still pretty scary, really it's more of a photo opportunity than a hazard, but it just goes to show that the difficulties of this journey do not begin and end with the Sahara.
..and breathe!
It seems like spending time with Martin and Sarah (aka Team Bob Mali) last night has done our heroines some good. For one thing, there is no comparison in the levels of "stuff" they have packed (for those of you who haven't seen the vehicle at ready-to-go stage, it may give you an idea if I tell you that mummy said they ought to have made a grid plan of where everything was to give them a fighting chance of finding anything they happen to need) which must go some way toward alleviating that sense that mum and Jane usually have that they are under-prepared despite all evidence to the contrary. For another thing, Martin seems to have instilled a sense of 'holiday' to the proceedings. This is quite important, because if you are the sort of person who is driven to get to the destination as soon as possible, perhaps quite competitive even (I'm saying NOTHING), I would imagine a journey of these epic proportions would soon start to feel like something of an endurance test.
Biarritz gets the Witches Abroad seal of approval - so much so that they were threatening to just stay there instead, but if anyone else is reading this and thinking of driving there, they do have one tip: what you really *don't* want to do is navigate through Bordeaux at rush hour, with a low winter sun in your eyes and driving on the wrong side of the road. That isn't much fun.
All in all things seem a lot more relaxed this morning. They are satisfied that they have broken the back of the crossing Europe part of the trip (they need to be at Gibraltar for Sunday), so they set off at the far more reasonable hour of around 9 o'clock this morning (so 10 local time), and are hoping to reach Madrid by nightfall, but will stop somewhere else en route if they haven't as Peg's only flaw so far is causing eye strain if they attempt to drive in the dark, because her lights are a little on the dim side. They can see the mountains they have yet to cross, it's a lovely morning, and they are raring to go!
Biarritz gets the Witches Abroad seal of approval - so much so that they were threatening to just stay there instead, but if anyone else is reading this and thinking of driving there, they do have one tip: what you really *don't* want to do is navigate through Bordeaux at rush hour, with a low winter sun in your eyes and driving on the wrong side of the road. That isn't much fun.
All in all things seem a lot more relaxed this morning. They are satisfied that they have broken the back of the crossing Europe part of the trip (they need to be at Gibraltar for Sunday), so they set off at the far more reasonable hour of around 9 o'clock this morning (so 10 local time), and are hoping to reach Madrid by nightfall, but will stop somewhere else en route if they haven't as Peg's only flaw so far is causing eye strain if they attempt to drive in the dark, because her lights are a little on the dim side. They can see the mountains they have yet to cross, it's a lovely morning, and they are raring to go!
Thursday 10 January 2008
The witches are now truly abroad.
Steph here again. The ferry crossing went ahead as planned despite vile weather, and apparently if one is in a cabin it is possible to get a good night's sleep despite the pitching and tossing. Very good, until being rudely ordered out of bed at six in the morning! Mind you, it is a miracle they managed to get out of the country at all given Jane's exchange with the staff at the border! She admitted to carrying three cans of diesel and a gas canister and when the man rolled his eyes and said "well at least I'm fairly sure you will say no to this question: do you have any offensive weapons in your possession?" Jane replied "well, we have a baseball bat..."
I spoke to mummy at around 9 o'clock this morning, by which time Mabel the xenophobic sat-nav system was in a total sulk and was refusing to recognise the road they were on. They were technically lost, but heading in vaguely the right direction, towards Rennes. I was concerned about the Herculean amount of driving they had ahead of them, but it turns out I had no need to be, because right now they are just outside of Biarritz, where they will be meeting Team Bob Mali (do you see what they did there?) at the Tulip Inn and resting overnight before striking out for Madrid in the morning. They have been on the road since 7.30am local time (which is 6.30 in real money), and driven just under 600 miles in under 12 hours, with only a brief stop for a sandwich en route. I imagine tomorrow will be every bit as rushed, but hopefully mum will have time to squeeze in an update of her own at the weekend.
I did pass on your comments - mum says you have a cheek, Sue!
I spoke to mummy at around 9 o'clock this morning, by which time Mabel the xenophobic sat-nav system was in a total sulk and was refusing to recognise the road they were on. They were technically lost, but heading in vaguely the right direction, towards Rennes. I was concerned about the Herculean amount of driving they had ahead of them, but it turns out I had no need to be, because right now they are just outside of Biarritz, where they will be meeting Team Bob Mali (do you see what they did there?) at the Tulip Inn and resting overnight before striking out for Madrid in the morning. They have been on the road since 7.30am local time (which is 6.30 in real money), and driven just under 600 miles in under 12 hours, with only a brief stop for a sandwich en route. I imagine tomorrow will be every bit as rushed, but hopefully mum will have time to squeeze in an update of her own at the weekend.
I did pass on your comments - mum says you have a cheek, Sue!
Wednesday 9 January 2008
Steph reporting
Hello all, Kate's daughter here with the first of probably many mini-updates.
The ladies reached Poole around tea time, well before their midnight ferry. The car is running well, no problems to report.
The ladies reached Poole around tea time, well before their midnight ferry. The car is running well, no problems to report.
Tuesday 8 January 2008
That's it, we're off...
We leave at 10am tomorrow (Wednesday) morning to get the ferry at midnight in Poole. Naturally the weather forecast is for high winds. In many ways the next bit is the most stressful, two days of six hundred miles each with a stop at Biarritz in the middle. If we don't make the ferry from Gibralter on the 13th we don't go, it's as simple as that. The vehicle is packed, the responsibilities are farmed out. There is no turning back, I have spent this month's wages on immodium and sleeping bags and if I stay I don't eat. Once we get to Morocco our breakdowns, both mechanical and nervous, dictate the pace and the pressure reduces. I am looking forward to so much. Herds of camels, local food and goats in trees. New friends and the company of one of my oldest friends. Spectacular skies, warm sea and time out from everything in my ordinary life. I am not looking forward to minefields and border guards and having nowhere to wee. I will be updating as often as possible and at the very least texting Steph so she can put information posts up for me. There is more info available if you google plymouth-dakar challenge and check the field reports on the left of the main page. We will be texting in to that site as often as possible.
Wish me luck and send me the odd message - see/speak to you all in February!
Wish me luck and send me the odd message - see/speak to you all in February!
Sunday 6 January 2008
Trouble at th'Mill...
Well, Jane's training room is full of a cornucopia of gubbins for the trip. We have rations enough for a six month tour, we have car stuff and camping stuff and clothing for everything from minus 10 to plus 40. We have enough medication to cover most things between malaria and dysentery with side forays into arthritis and asthma. We have books and cards and even a football just in case we are seized with a sudden desire to look stupid in a new and energetic way. What we don't have is any idea whether we will be going to Mali. As you may know, dear reader, the Gods of the planet Bloody Typical, have decreed that this is the week Al-Qaeda have made terrorist threats towards the Paris-Dakar, resulting in its cancellation for the first time in thirty years. We are not the Paris-Dakar, we are not even a race. We are a group of people traveling for fun and for charity and to extend a hand of friendship between Europe and Africa. The question is, has anybody explained the difference to Al Qaeda? There is little point in speculating, the only option is to get to Morocco and take stock there. It may be possible to take a different route. We may decide to stay in Morocco and drive back, trying again next year. Hell, we may not even get that far, several teams have broken down in Europe (and if that happens we will throw a sulk so hard it will propel us by sheer tantrum all the way home). I am hopeful that we will get all the way while keeping in mind that it may just be too risky.If we do cross the border, we wont take any risks, we will keep our heads down, take all stickers off the vehicles and travel in small groups, the Mauri crossing can be done in two days...I did say there is little point in speculating, I'll stop speculating shall I?
Thursday 3 January 2008
6 days and counting......
I am not a stressy person, honestly I'm not. There are six days to go until Jane and I hit the road for Africa. Am I ready? Am I chunky buggery. I have three pages of notes "to do" and a house that looks like the wreck of the Hesperus. I am plagued with anxiety and unanswered questions chase each other round the wide windy plains of my mindlet while I lie sleepless each night. What if we never find the other people doing the trip? What if the car breaks down in the back ass of nowhere and nobody will help us? Where will I wee?
I know that next Wednesday when we actually leave I will be as excited as a chimp with a bag of monkey nuts. It's the bit between now and next Wednesday that is reducing me to a gibbering wreck.
By the way, does anybody know where Poole is? I have a ferry ticket with my name on it and I'm really not sure where Dorset is.......
I know that next Wednesday when we actually leave I will be as excited as a chimp with a bag of monkey nuts. It's the bit between now and next Wednesday that is reducing me to a gibbering wreck.
By the way, does anybody know where Poole is? I have a ferry ticket with my name on it and I'm really not sure where Dorset is.......
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