Tunisia to Tam
Forgive us for the long interlude between missives but the Fur Balls have been striking a course deep into the Sahara. Today the Team crossed the Tropic of Cancer (bottle of port thank you Dave) and are currently camped in the fair town of Tamanrasset, the end of the road and the last outpost before the 250 mile trek to the Niger border.
The first 2 days in Tunisia were spent sorting out the trail of badmin that Charles and Thomas had left behind. After spending a delightful 3 hours at the bustling tourist attraction that is Tunis International Freight Terminal their bags were duly dispatched to blightey for the dissapointingly cheap sum of 80 Tunisian Dinars (£36). However faith was restored when Charles had to pay a further £75 in customs duties.
Free of the dead wood that was hampering their progress the Fur Balls moved with high speed to the beach resort of Sousse for some much needed down time....and alcohol. However they were rapidly reminded that Tunisia is a Muslim country and sowewhat devoid of bars and buxom maidens. Well oiled with several litres of Gordon's Gin and at the fashionable hour of 1am the team attacked the resort with gusto and eventually stumbled on the alfresco bar aptly named the Saloon bar. After being fleeced for several bottles of overpriced Arabic beer and appeased by an impressive rendition of the film 'Cocktail' the unabashed partygoers sought out the dancefloor. However it became rapidly apparent that the playlist was rather less Bob Marley than Ian had insinuated and could more accurately described as techno trash. Undeterred Tony revealed a previously hidden talent as a musical maestro and sung along to this wordless drone, somehow working Arthur Scargill and the coal miners strike into every song. Who would have thought that so many songs contained the word Silicosis? However fair maidens were nowhere to be seen and so with a heavy heart the weary travellers retired to bed. Consequently Chris remains in a foul mood.
I shall not labour the next day suffice to say that the late hour of rising ensured that it was remarkably short day and the team completely failed to get to the beach before sunset. However two things of note occurred. Three team members fashioned some head turning snorkels from a short section of flexible heater hose, drainpipe, a plastic water bottle, Marks and Spencer 40 denier tights and a generous measure of duck tape. A challenging but highly successful enterprise. One team member was tasked with the comparatively simple task of topping up the Cheetah's oil. With an average oil consumption of some 2L per day this had become a routine and mundane task. However it would be some 20 hours before this saga drew to a close. Unfortunately Craig topped up the engine with a little too much oil. Careless but we will attribute it to his tremor. No problem I hear you say, drain a little from the sump. But alas having drained the excess litre of oil from the sump he proceeded to strip the bolt. After repeated efforts to seal it with gasket sealant and a failed attempt to leave Sousse Ian was left with no option other than to drain the sump and permanently epoxy the bolt in the sump. We shall overlook the 3000 mile service interval and the 5000 or so miles left to run.
Moving swiftly on Great Balls of Fur joined forces with M-Tak Attack, their companions for the Sahara, chinned a few shandies in the Saloon Bar and set off on the long journey to the Algerian border the following day. This journey proceeded without incident...other than a shredded tyre, several oil top ups and a minor clutch repair. It is difficult to say if M-Tak Attack were concerned, impressed or just plain stunned. Either way they were quiet. Very quiet.
An early start the following morning was imperative in order to cross the border early and meet our Algerian guide. Unfortunately there was still the issue of the shredded tyre and stripped wheel nuts, sorry did I forget to mention the issue of the wheel nuts. These had been weighing heavily on our mind since we had left the UK, well OK not that heavily. Anyway after much banging and cursing the wheel was released and the merry band set forth once again.
Three long days and a gradual decline in the roads has followed with the vans being pushed to the limits. Pit stops are now an almost hourly occurrence. Surprisingly the M Reg Micra has yet to have a single maintenance issue save an under-tightened roof rack.
And so with nervous anticipation and the first cold gin and tonic in 4 days conversation idles casually over driving experience, money and the challenges ahead. Oh and who is driving tomorrow morning?