Ouagadougou

Hi Everyone,

Seemingly a lot of time has passed since the last update, somewhere in the region of 10 days. Unfortunately, I'm unable to add pics from where I am, however, I will outline what we've been up to...

We left Bamako and headed to Djenné, home of the largest mud mosque in the world and certified UNESCO world heritage site. It's a place that constantly amazes me, so much mud, so well used! They're currently in the process of renovating the mosque - this is something they do every year by adding more mud to the outside walls, however, this year they have embarked on a new programme which should mean that the renovation needs only happen every 3 years, or every 10, we forget! Whatever, it is still a spectacular site, the people are lovely and the view from the top of the hotel where we camped is unforgettable.

From Djenné we drove back down to the river (all of 5 mins) and climbed aboard a luxury pirogue (complete with roof, motor and stove) and set off up the river towards Mopti. This was an overnight trip that involved a couple of stops in local riverside villages along the way, complete with large numbers of hugely over excited children, all spewing a mixture of bad French and local dialect, the result of which was difficult to comprehend. Luckily it's not hard to realise that sweets and empty water bottles are the order of the day, and so there were lots of smiling faces wherever we went, especially content once their photos had been taken and shown to them countless times!

Arriving in Mopti we settled down for lunch in a restaurant just removed from the busy port and rather fittingly ate some fish. From here it was a short trip to Sevaré, via a supermarket of sorts to restock our supplies and on to a campsite called Via Via. Another good roof to pitch tents and a cheap bar meant many happy faces. Even happier once they realised that their evenings' transport to the local bar and music venue consisted of two donkey carts. Not that the locals didn't lap that up as well, 10 Europeans/Americans and Australians on the back of 2 donkey carts, a classic stunt! A good night out with great local music followed by several midnight snacks of bread and omelette before heading to bed at what feels like a very late 2am over here.

The following morning was a fairly relaxed affair, with all we needed to do to drive to Bandiagara, the gateway to the Dogon Country. Most were tired and slept the miles away in the back of the truck, but those that weren't watched the awesome scenery unfold before us, as African village gives way to almost moonscape rock formations. Very cool indeed, and more to follow over the next few days.

I saw little of Bandiagara, other than our hotel/campite, as we were only there for Sunday evening before leaving early on Monday for our 3 day hike in Dogon Country. Our guide, Mamadu, met us at the hotel and we left together for what was to become an unforgettable 3 days.

Arriving in Dogon Country is like arriving in no other place. It is truly unique, and although more touristy than my last visit, still sublime. The moonscape makes way for a huge escarpment opening out onto a valley, in the middle of which lies spread about Dogon villages. Some lie atop the escarpment, some cling to the rock face at the bottom and others lie on the flat fground at the bottom of the valley, however, all are watched over by countless small caves bored into the cliffs of the escarpment high above everything else - these are the houses of the ancient Tellem, a pygmy people that lived there long ago. Nobody really knows when they left or why, and how they lived so high up in the cliffs above, however, the spectacle of seeing their houses and the Dogon villages that lie alongside (although underneath) is unbelievable. On the second day we had a ceremonial dance from one of the Dogon villages which was a vision of masks and purple skirts, sleeves and anklets. All the dancers were male and the result was fantastic. Afterwards we learnt all about the different masks (there were 31 separate dancers, mostly all in different masks) and the stories behind them were intriguing.

A 9km walk after the dance and we found our sleeping place for the night, ate and bedded down, exhilarated and elated but tired. After all, tomorrow we would be climbing back up the tall escarpment.

Awaking early due to countless donkeys, chickens and pigs, not forgetting children, birds and the rhythmic sound of pounding millet, we dressed and assembled for a breakfast of tea, coffee, doughnuts and bread. Afterwards, a short walk towards the next village along before turning a sharp right towards the cliff face and beginning the steep ascent back to what feels like the rest of Mali, this current land being so different.

It was not as difficult as I remember and we were back up at the top some 20 minutes later, most heaving for some air and gulping water, but others showing far more capability (the guides!). Back on what can be described as terra firma, we made the slow amble towards our final Dogon village, where we had a much needed soda (fizzy drink) and awaited Matt (our driver) and lunch.

Matt arrived in time for lunch, for which he was immensely grateful and we then set off back for Bandiagara. Another night there passed in similar fashion to the last one there, a few beers, some football on the TV and then bed. The next day we made for the Mali-Burkina Faso border and crossed with much simplicity into the next country on our journey. Just past the border we rough camped. Low on supplies but with true inspiration, we feasted on egg fried rice and baked beans and afterwards settled down to watch a cracking DVD of Michael McIntyre. Pure comedy genius. The rough camp was the quietest we had encountered so far and seemed removed from most other life, save for the (very) occasional motorbike that went past, and one very random large truck at about four in the morning.

The night was cold, but we had made a fire so the first thing Matt did was to relight it, allowing everyone to escape the chill. Th kettle was boiled and warm drinks were passed round before porridge was served and suddenly the sun was up and jumpers were being removed once more. A little further down the road we had to purchase the travel documents for the vehicle, followed by a brief meeting with the gendarmerie. Nothing special and all very normal, no problems and we were on our way, officially in our penultimate country. At about 11am, all feeling a bit hungry, we stopped in Yaka for some grilled guinea fowl. I think this town might remain etched on my memory for this sole reason - by far the best I've ever had and worth a journey from wherever you are now!

Back in the car and onto Ouagadougou, some 200km later. Not much of note on that stretch of road, save various motorcyclists carrying either 40 goats or 200 chickens. Trés amusant!

We're now in Ouaga, setting up camp in a swish hotel with a swimming pool and bar, good restaurant and air con. Unfortunately we'll be camping outside, which they let us do for free if we show "some good will" towards their bar. I don't think that'll be tricky.

All the best to all and sundry, we're off to Victoria's birthplace tomorrow, Bobo-Dioulasso, which is surely worth a toast.

Tom.

Bamako - 10/11/2009

I have finally been reunited with the group and had a good catch up with them all over breakfast this morning. They drove into Bamako at about 2pm yesterday and I flew in at 2.30 this morning. Mark and Rich have flown home, back to the day jobs, and from now on our tour driver will be Matt, an Australian based in Bamako. We're staying at his new guest house in town, The Sleeping Camel, and will be heading off towards Djenné tomorrow. As I write, the group are off exploring Bamako, visiting the museum and grabbing some chop (food). We'll have a catch up a little later as Matt and I have been going through potential routes from here on in until we finish in three weeks in Elmina, Ghana. It looks likely that we 'll be doing a boat trip up the Niger to Mopti, a walk through Dogon country and some rough camping before heading down to Burkina Faso into Ouagadouagou, Bobo-Dioulasso and into Ghana. From now the pace of driving slows a bit and there's more sight seeing to get involved with, something I hope will prove popular with the group, and from what I've gleaned so far will be very welcome indeed. Spirits are high and with the offer of live music tonight before getting back on the road tomorrow, Mali looks set to kick off to a great start.
Tom

Tuesday 3rd November

I've been getting a few text messages from the desert today, and word is that the truck should now have crossed the minefield and so into Mauritania. Since I last saw the team (on Friday), I have managed to secure a new passport and Ghanaian visa and am flying back to Nouakchott tomorrow to meet them as soon as they arrive there.

They've asked for sweets and AA batteries which I will happily return with - I'm also going to be strapping my passport to my leg. Lesson learnt!

Tom

Saturday

The whole of day 5 was spent on the road, covering 450km to reach a campsite near the border with Western Sahara. Western Sahara is a disputed territory claimed by Morocco but which is recognised as an independent state by around 80 countries. Its official status is still ‘disputed’ with the UN despite the fact that the controversy has been ongoing for over 30 years. A large proportion of the West Saharan people (or Sahrawis as they are known) are living in refugee countries in neighbouring Algeria – a country from which many goods are imported. Morocco’s treatment of the people and the country has been widely condemned and the standard and cost of living for the Sahrawis makes life very difficult.

On our way down, we stopped at a market where there were all kinds of fruit and vegetables for sale as well as chickens and camels (we found out that 1 woman was worth about 5000 Dirhams). We finally had the chance to indulge in the fruit that we have been craving for these first days, Rich enquired about buying a camel, and we also bought a pumpkin for our token American on the trip, Kristy, who was missing her slutty Halloween celebrations back home.

After a good 12 hours on the road running parallel to the Atlantic coast, Mark took a right hand turn into what looked like an empty abyss of desert. Most of us in the back had fallen asleep shortly after our Halloween celebrations (which included opening some beers, hiding beers from checkpoint police, singing national anthems and imitating different accents) but we woke to find ourselves off-roading and expecting that Mark had given up hope of us finding the campsite and opted for some rough camping in the desert. However, as we progressed we saw the odd sign with a tent and arrows indicating that maybe Mark did have an alternate plan in mind, and after 20 minutes or so we pulled up at an amazing little place complete with Bedouin-style tents, mattresses and warm showers. The campsite is owned by a French couple who have been living in the middle of nowhere for the last few years. We asked no questions, but the exact reasons why they are here doing what they do remain a mystery, The words ‘tax’ and ‘evasion’ may have been uttered over dinner, but we couldn’t possibly say by whom!

Unfortunately the promised camels steaks were not available because we were arriving too late, so Rich and Victoria treated us to a delicious lamb stew (sans testicle) and the Oxo Young Cook of the Year 1991, Rich managed to get by with a beef-flavoured Knorr cue rather than his ingredient of choice.

Those up early enough the following morning were able to admire the beautiful sunrise over the cactus studded, hard rock desert. After packing up the truck breakfast was served, what a treat after days of porridge: fried eggs, fresh bread, freshly squeezed orange juice, tea and coffee, and of course our favourite – cheese triangles. After leaving the goats our left over 2 day old pasta we head off to Laayoune and through our first border crossing into Western Sahara.

Friday from the team's perspective

Sidi Ifni and Sahara somewhere!

Km count: 580

Team leaders lost: 1

Further unexpected nights of being spoilt by luxury: 2

Number of lamb testicles bought: 1

On waking in the smelly surroundings of the Agadir campsite (and with poor Victoria spending a night in a tent on which a cat had relieved itself!) a few of us went to pick up some more tinned food to last us a few days in the desert while the others packed away the campsite. Tins, tins and more tins, Agadir being the world’s largest supplier of tinned sardines. We’ll leave you to imagine the smell.

The journey down to Sidi Ifni was not too long – about 130kms - and en-route we got the sad news that our leader Tom has had to fly home to get another passport. Unfortunately the Moroccan authorities could only issue a temporary passport to send him home and so is hoping to meet up with the rest of us later in the trip. Luckily, in the meantime, we have our experienced driving team, Mark and Rich to take care of us. On the downside, Tom has taken with him all of the team’s water sanitation tablets as well as a vital map! He was kind enough to leave us a bag of clothes and some smelly trainers though! Let’s hope he makes it out to join us as soon as possible!

We stopped off at a beautiful beach at a place called Sidi Ifni, a sleepy town with white, shuttered up houses which wouldn’t look out of place in southern Spain or Greece. The one thing that maybe makes it different is that the place was utterly deserted, with a few workmen bathing after a hard day’s work, a couple of children running around and us! The boys scampered up a rock and then ran into the sea to do some body surfing while the girls sat in the sun wondering what tonight’s facilities would be like. We then made our way to a campsite by the beach, complete with Wifi connection, a laundry service and hot showers, and pitched the tents right next to the sea and settled into a delicious veggie chilli. As Kristy announced to us after visiting the toilets “Guys, we have died and gone to camping heaven!”

Nicki's Blog

For those of you that want even more info, a different perspective and the bits that Tom won't be there for, have a read of Nicki's blog. Nicki is one of the team on the trip who is going to be working for Kiva in Senegal following this little adventure. It's a great read and well worth a browse.

http://nickigoh.wordpress.com/author/nickigoh/

Friday 30th October

Seeing the campsite in the light we soon realised quite how large it was, shame it's a bit gritty, the showers are rubbish and certain parts of it stink of sewage. It's also expensive for what it is and so we might try and find alternatives on future trips, as there are plenty of spectacular rough camping spots further up the coast.

Breakfast was served whilst discussing the day's shopping list – we really need enough for the next 5 or so days as the coastal route is long and rough camping will be much more scenic, relaxed and enjoyable. A trio set out to find the supermarket whilst the others packed up camp and Tom went to find the British Consulate to find out what happens next.

The shopping was done by 10am and Mark picked it and everyone else up from the supermarket in the truck and hit the road towards Tiznit and beyond. Tom was left in Agadir with a very helpful Bristish Consular, an internet café next door, with skype, and the his next few moves to organise. He can only be issued an emergency passport for one journey and it will only be valid for one week so that rules out Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso and Ghana with the rest of the group. The plan then is to get back to London asap, get a new passport pronto and fly back to Nouakchott to meet the others, failing that on time constraints the rendez-vous will have to be Bamako. Essentially Tom really needs to “overtake” the group over the course of the next week or so to ensure that they are not waiting for him, but rather him for them.

The team managed to reach Izni at a sensible hour and found themselves faced with Morocco's answer to Durdle Door on the Jurassic Coast in Dorset. Further explanation of this to follow, as the blog will now be written by them whilst Tom hops back to the UK tomorrow evening, in preparation to obtain a passport on Monday or soon thereafter.

Thursday 29th October

Agadir bay at night

Looks like they're building the beach by digger, Dubai stylee, but they're not!

My favourite thing about Agadir, the lights on the hill of the old town (demolished by an earthquake in 1960), that welcome people to the town from sea

A later start, but not by long. Tea, coffee, cereal and porridge were all produced by Tom who got two thumbs up for the porridge, with Jossy instantly declaring it better than hers. Quite an achievement given it's cooked using powdered milk... the ton of sugar everyone added probably helped! Compliments from our French neighbours on being English and friendly came when Nicki struck up conversation with them whilst lusting over their breakfast, history doesn't quite relate as to whether this cunning ploy meant she ended up with a scrap of bacon or not, but no doubt it was worth a try.

Afterwards the truck and trailer were packed up once Tom had had a look for his passport (no luck) and we moved into town to give everyone a morning of internet and shopping, sight seeing and sunbathing. Tom took the opportunity to contact the bank in Marrakech where he thinks he left his passport, unfortuntely it seems that they claim otherwise. Next stop the police station to report it missing and for the rest of the group, less Tom as the police were taking so long, Agadir.

At 3pm Tom was able to go and pick up the police report and then go and find a bus to take him the 170km to Agadir, which he was on by 4pm and on the road by quarter past. In the meantime, the others had been making their way along the coast, southbound towards Morocco's next package holiday destination. They arrived at the campsite in Agadir just before 8pm and Tom, playing catch-up, walked in 15 minutes later, having not had to stop for lunch or the supermarket.

A quick drink at the campsite was followed by a walk into Agadir's new waterside development, rows upon rows of upmarket restaurants, hotels, shops, bars and clubs – more like the Mediterranean or Thailand than Africa, and a very strange experience for those on the trip that know Africa quite well. We ate well and what was likely to be out last western food for a good while to come, and afterwards there was a small exodus to a bar or two, with talk of karyoke and shisha pipes.

Wednesday 28th October

Ready to go

Group talk

A bright and early start saw Tom puttiung the kettle on at 6.15am, ready to stir everyone into action with tea and coffee. Most took the hint but there were definitely a few of the group who weren't quite so into their early mornings – sadly a way of life on a journey like this as it gets dark so early in the evening.

Once everyone had helped themsleves to a very modest breakfast of bread and marmite or dairylea, or both, Mark led the induction chat, added to by Tom and sat through very patiently by everyone else! Then it was pack up time and road bound to Essaouira, the beach and 5 weeks of travelling.

We stopped briefly for a stock up of food, fuel and money and then ventured out towards the wilds of Morocco, leaving behind the shadow of the Atlas mountains and heading west. Along the way the road was mixed, good then terrible, then good again, and we did stop for Tom to enquire as to the price of a traditional Berber tent in his finest French – there's definitely some negotiation to be done before Sabre can have one!

We reached Essaouira by sundown, having left Marrakech a little later than anticipated, and found a campsite just on the outskirts of town. Camp was set up, Rich proved his prowess on the stove through a fantastic tomato and mushroom pasta, and Tom opened the bar. Good times. After eating, most of the group headed into town to try and find a bar and the others sat talking around the table, telling stories and getting to know each other. Bed time for those at camp came at about 11pm and god only knows when the everyone else returned, reminiscing of music, magicians and the great Maroc!

On a separate note, Tom realised he had already lost his passport once we arrived in Essaouira. Not the greatest example to set to a new group of travellers, entrusting their safety to the team leader. Nonetheless, these things happen and we'll have to see if it turns up when the truck can be turned upside down tomorrow and properly rifled through.

Tuesday 27th October

Tom was up with paintbrush in hand by 7.30am, putting further coats on the ladders, front grill, box cleets and other previously ignored spots. The others were soon to follow with drills, spanners, rivet guns and the rest to get everything finished and ready for a clean before the group arrived. The plan to have this all done before everyone joined us clearly wasn't going to work and so whilst Rich and Mark cracked on doing the best they could, Tom ran lessons in putting up tents and camp beds to those who had arrived. Lesson complete and with everyone now with their own tent and bed, the group less Tom, Mark and Rich headed into town to soak up the atmospheric city.

With the group arriving in dribs and drabs through the afternoon, there was several different camp building lessons and lots of trying to get out of doing the clean! Eventually, everyone was fully trained and the truck was spotless which was our cue to all go into the city, meet up with the others who had previously gone and go for a welcome supper. We sat in a restaurant overlooking the main square and ate tagine's whilst drinking coke. We were joined by Jess, a friend of Tom's from university who is working in Marrakech, who is organising a city-wide arts festival in November. Now in it's 3^rd year, it growing hugely and sounds very exciting. We did, however, all forget to ask what it's called!

A taxi back for everyone at 11pm was followed by a pretty swift goodnight by all and dreams of what to expect when the sun comes over the horizon tomorrow. The beginning of the drive from Morocco to Ghana and plenty of stories along the way...

Monday 26th October 2009

An earlish start with a mission to track down a welder in downtown Marrakech. After a bit of faffing about and a semi wild-goose chase we found a man not too far away. He and his team worked diligently to finish off the few bits and pieces of welding that were needed to add steps to the box and some other snagging issues. Whilst they worked and Mark looked on, guiding and suitably impressed, Rich and Tom went round the corner and did a supermarket shop. It was croissants for breakfast over a hot welding arc and by 11am the job was done. The next stop was the French sister company of B&Q, Mr. Bricolat. Again just round the corner, for a few nuts and bolts along with other good DIY fare required to bring this seemingly endless building project to a close.

All tools and work bought and done, we returned to camp and got on with our various jobs. Mark and Rich attacked the truck and Tom set about organising the trailer. It was soon discovered that we still needed mugs, cups, plates and bowls – fairly standard camping equipment. Still, better to discover this now then when on the road with 8 other hungry guests!

By dark, the majority of the work has been achieved, leaving tomorrow morning to finish the rest before everyone comes to join us. In quiet celebration and to mark the end of the journey for just the three of us we headed to the main square and feasted amongst the market food stands, surrounded by snake charmers, dancing monkeys, musicians, acrobats and the wafting scents and sounds of a bustling city come to life at night.

Sunday 25th October

The ferry docked early on Sunday morning without hitch and we drove off and upto customs and immigration. The usual fanfare erupted and before we knew it customs were crawling all over us like lice, eager to get their hands on what looked like a treasure trove, owing to the size of the trailer and truck that we had rocked up in. From the off there was to be no reasoning, so better just to sit back, watch and wait for them to decide what they were after. No amount of paperwork thrust in their faces could prevent them from eyeing up their potential gains and so they ordered us to completely unpack the trailer at about 1.30am. Not best pleased but having to do it, we set about helping them unload everything and open every box. With each box opened, the look of disappointment on their faces grew until they finally realised that they weren't going to find anything that was either illegal or that they wanted. Bad times for them was good times for us, as once they had left us to re-pack the trailer and swindled about 120 euros off us for the pleasure we were back on the road again.

Leaving Tangiers is never easy in the light. In the dark it was impossible and it seemed an age before we managed to find the right road. Eventually we did and we drove off in the direction of Rabat. We pulled up at a service station at about 4am, bought some food and hit our beds. We awoke at about 8am and filled with fuel, took in our first sights of Africa in the light and cracked on. With better roads than Spain, northern Morocco is great to drive through and you can just eat up the miles. We made Rabat at around lunchtime and stopped in what could have been a brand new European shopping mall, this place was vast and filled with Morocco's fashionista. We found what we were looking for though which was much less glamourous – a grease gun and an ATM!

After re-greasing all sorts of mechanical compomnents on the truck and trailer we were ready to continue on our way towards Casablanca which we did tout suite. It was pretty boring driving really with not much to look at. Bets had been on since leaving Tangiers as to when we would see our first road traffic accident, so common are they in this part of the world, however, in all 400km odd of road we witnessed not one. Not one camel either, perhaps they'll have to wait until we're further south... We scooted past Casablanca and onto Marrakech where upon the Atlas mountains loomed into view and gave us something to aim for.

We rolled into our campsite in Marrakech at about 8pm, having stopped for supper on the motorway at one of the many Oasis cafés – Morocco's versions of motorway service stations. These are so much better than those back home, you can get proper food served fresh from a clay oven and choose between tagine's, grills and various other tasty Moroccan morsels. After a long time driving and having reached Marrakech in the time we set out to achieve the distance despite all the previous difficulties, we collapsed into our various sleeping positions. Too tired even to make tents and camp beds and in need of a recharge before spending tomorrow finishing off the truck.

Saturday 24th October 2009

After we stopped for fuel we carried on and found our way past Madrid. Just past Ocaña we stopped for some drinks and a short rest and ended up putting some more oil in the diffs, which we noticed had lost some, although nothing dramatic. We pushed on at about 05.30 and stopped an hour later for a sleep.

Tom woke everyone at 08.15 and coffee was had by all. Fuel was topped up so we could just drive, as the aim of the day was to make the crossing from Spain to Morocco and we were still many hundreds of kilometres from Algecerias. No breakfast, no lunch – a spot of shopping just west of Malaga for a few odds and ends and then back on the highway to Algecerias. We hit the ferry terminal at 20.45 and found out that there was a crossing at 21.00

After being mis-directed by a useless policeman who tried to tell us that we had bought a ticket for the wrong ferry and that we couldn't go to Tangiers, but had to go to Ceuta instead, we got a bit fed up and just joined the queue. As 21.00 rolled by and a ferry upped and left we got a bit worried that perhaps we had missed it. A quick check with the totally disorgainsed port authorities reassured us that we had not but that we weren't in the right queue. As a result we had to get several cars to move and scoot around the outside, only to talk to the ferry operators standing at the ramp, who put us on the reserve list for the ferry that we had just left the queue for. Suitably unimpressed with the lack of any organisation or information at all, we were very lucky that the shambles we had to deal with turned out to be alright and the ferry was made. We left port over an hour late and to make matters worse, the pub on board was closed. Still, tomorrow will bring us to Africa and so to the next stage.

Friday 23rd October 2009

Mark and Tom awoke to those extremely irrititating but somehow expected words, redolent of the Apollo 13 mission... “Mark, we have a problem”. That was Rich at about 06.30 and without the full-scale back up team that NASA had at their disposal, not that we could go so far as to compare the two expeditions – at least not at this stage! The problem, it turned out, was that we had run out of fuel on a motorway in France. This had the potential to contravene at least 2 laws that we could think of; firstly, breaking down because of lack of fuel, and secondly, potentially having to tilt the cab and prime the engine whilst carrying out some other mechanical work on the side of the motorway. It was pitch dark and our breakdown equipment (hazard triangles etc) were locked in the trailer on the road side. Coupled with that, we didn't have any fuel in our spare jerry's and we guessed on what Richard described that the next garage was at least 5km down the road. Mark took off with 2 jerry's leaving Tom and Rich to sort out making the most of warning oncoming vehicles of the hazard ahead. We were parked in the hard shoulder, but being a big vehicle, we were a little wide for it.

Having donned hi-vis jackets and arranged the hazard triangles, a set of orange flashing lights turned up. This was highway maintenance and they took to getting cones out and doing a professional job of closing the lane around us and filtering the traffic past. It was al smiles and consolations from him, who spoke not a word of English, and Tom's French was rusty but rapidly improving... or improvising yet again. Once the cones were set out and Mark had been on his walk for about 50 minutes, he phoned to say he was on his way back. Soon after, the gendarmerie arrived. Two young guys who really wanted no trouble and again were all smiles. After a quick chat with the highway maintenance guy they said they were a bit cold and asked which direction Mark had gone. We duly pointed them off up the road and 15 minutes later they arrived back with Mark and one jerry can. Two had just been stupidly hard to carry for 5 kilometres and in fact had been ditched back at the garage after about 200 yards.

At this point Mark emptied the jerry into the tank whilst one of the gendarme's asked Tom for a lighter, carrying on that great French tradition of Gaulouise and looking on. Quickly getting bored he asked Tom in his neatest English whether he thought there would be a problem starting the truck. Tom diplomatically responded “Je ne sais pas... peut être”, knowing that to re-prime the engine and drag th fuel through could take a couple of hours at least and that it was illegal to do where we were, and also that we didn't have so much as a sniff of European breakdown cover! Basically we were at risk of a fine at the least and arrest at the worst. Luckily, the engine burst into life after Mark, thankfully, had the genius idea of injecting some ether through at the same time, which had the effect of pushing the fuel through and bringing it to life. By this time it was 08.45 and light, the police didn't care about us and simply waved us on. We then restocked with fuel and picked up the jerry Mark had left at the garage up the road. By the time we had done this and fixed an air leak and a few other things it was raining hard – certainly not a time to be standing at the side of the road, so thank we got our breakdown sorted when we did.

About 10 kilometres down the road we came across our police friends with radar gun out, upholding the speeding laws. Friendly waves and smiles hopefully detracted from the fact that we were slightly over our limit. Onwards towards Bordeaux and a McDonalds brunch and Hypermarket shop on the outskirts later and once again we were on the road. Not too long after and Mark noticed, whilst Tom and Rich slept that we weren't getting full power through the transmission. This time we were able to pull over properly at an Aire, change the fuel filter and cross our fingers that all would be well! By this time we were quite bored of France, unfortunately with limited power we would not have been able to make it over the Pyrenees and so we had to sort the problem out. Our diagnosis seemed to have worked and we cracked on down past Biarritz and over the border by about 7pm.

A fuel fill and another night of driving ahead of us, Rich took the wheel once we reached the Madrid plains and by about 02.30 on Saturday morning we stopped to refuel about 40 kilometres away from the city.

Thursday 22nd October 2009

An early start at 05.15 left us plenty of time to reach Portsmouth docks by 6am when we had been told that the ferry companies offices would be open, and we could begin our research into fare costs. An easy and quick phonecall en route to LD Lines managed to secure us a crossing at no extra cost for midday so by the time we arrived all we needed to do was find out how much the competition were going to charge for an earlier crossing. When that quote came in at nearly £600 it was time to go back to sleep and await midday! Tom went to find coffee and a newspaper but not before being told off for not wearing a high-vis jacket or having his passport on him. Firstly, who has a high-vis jacket and secondly, even if they do, who admits it? Truckers, eh! The passport though, was his fault, but luckily it was in the truck and not back in London.

We did manage to pick up some valuable advice, however, which is that the French and Spanish authorities (read underpaid police service), have found a lucrative second inome from stopping Brits abroad who they reckon won't have the right kit. Basically, don't forget your hi-vis jacket (one per car in France but one each in Spain), your GB sign on the back of your car and two warning triangles. Also if you're driving at night you'll need those funny headlight adaptors. Without these things we're told that a €90 fine may quickly come your way. You'll be pleased to know that should we be stopped we're fully kitted out.

The ferry crossing passed nearly without incident. Whilst Rich slept, Tom and Mark were accosted by a mad Frenchman who just so happens to live in Le Havre but who is a die-hard Chelsea supporter and makes the cross-channel journey often, to see his beloved team. After he had shown us all his Chelsea tatoos, legs, arms and bare-naked torso (the man actually removed his shirt at the bar), he seemed slightly unamused when we asked him who he supported. Still, you can't win 'em all, and he just looked confused and then probably contemplated just how stupid we were, or perhaps just how many beer's he had consumed. Luckily for us Chelsea had recently won 4-0 so he was trés content, and luckily for him, we couldn't remember any French. Anyway, we quickly got bored of him and went to find something to eat and a conversation that didn't involve the word Chelsea every other word.

Instead we quickly discovered how not to speak French at all, and that the same actions you need to choreograph the buying of a coffee in a quasi-charades style act is very similar to that employed whilst attempting to mime the name of some smutty 80's TV show at a family christmas. Happy days indeed, but the coffee was rubbish!

Wednesday 21st October 2009

Before we begin this properly we should probably introduce the team leading this expedition. Lead driver is Mark who previously did this journey as recently as March 2009 and so is gunning for his second Saharan crossing of the year. Then we have co-driver Rich, a Peter Kay doppelgänger and taxi-driver extraordinaire; a man used to sitting in the drivers' seat then. Lastly, but most importantly (who's writing this anyway?!), is Tom. Full-time Sabre staff on his way out to Ghana to man the office for a couple of months. Tom was a tourist on Sabre's first UK to Ghana road trip and loved it so much he now makes sure more people do it as part of his job. The rest of the team will join us in Marrakech and we're greatly looking forward to meeting Jossy, Kimberley, Kristy, Nicki, Jon, Rachel, Victoria and Andy.

Wednesday brought with it our final day of preparations on the truck. This would involve finishing the trailer, packing and making it secure, along with putting the passenger box on the truck, a few mechanical alterations and making the journey from Burley to Portsmouth. That may sound like an achievable list, however, it was always going to be close to the wire. We planned to catch the 23.30 ferry from Portsmouth to Le Havre. At 21.45 we rolled out of Burley and an hour an three quarters later we arrived at the docks, not a ferry in sight!

Not an ideal start then, but at least we were on the road! Unsure what to do vis-a-vis ferries the next day we found out that there was an 07.30 sailing through a diferent company or a midday sailing using LD Lines – the carrier we were previously booked with. Obviously, but rather frustratingly, all booking lines and office phones in general were unmanned that late in the evening and so we bedded down for the night in the glamorous surroundings of a Tesco carpark somewhere near Portsmouth. Never has Lily Allen's rhyming of Tesco with 'al fresco' seemed so apt...

We have a bus (truck)!!!

Hi Everyone...

In preparation for the Bus Run 2009 we thought it was probably a good idea to have a vehicle with which to carry us from Morocco to Ghana, being as it is, a long way to hitch-hike. Without one it also wouldn't be much of a Bus Run as such, so we're happy to report that Mark has been busy and has sourced an ex-army Leyland DAF.


There's definitely some opportunity here for everyone coming on the trip to name her, but it may be that that's not possible until she begins to show her personality on the road. Early suggestions are more than welcome to help get us started though. Chances are that she won't look like this for long as impersonating the army through various West African countries is likely to lead to a whole lot of trouble, although conversely it could work in our favour, you just never know!

There'll be more pics soon, and as soon as I've had a sensible chat with Mark I'll list all the work we're planning on doing to turn her into the best truck you'll ever ride in.
All the best,

Tom