Well dear reader please accept the fur balls sincere apologies for the disappearance of our blog updates. So severe was the drought of information, coupled with the fact that one of our deported team members contrived to bring down our website lead some of you to doubt the survival of the valiant team.
The blog will be fleshed out in due course when more time permits but for the moment I hope the following brief resume will whet your appetite.
Tamanrasset to the Niger border
200km of soft sand took their toll on the team and the vans. The cheetah died a slow death after a monumental thrashing through the desert and following a brief memorial service was laid to rest in a police compound at In-Guezzam. The speed with which the locals stripped the van left Ian speechless and sweating profusely. The zebra escaped lightly until an Algerian youth tried to help us out of the sand in 3rd gear. The clutch was the unfortunate casualty. Thankfully we had a spare and the removal of gear box and clutch change was completed in under 3 hours in the middle of the sahara on the Algerian-Niger border with no garage facilities. The team felt justly proud of their efforts.
Assamakka to Arlit
Civilisation rapidly dissappeared on crossing the border and Assamakka, the Niger border post, was little more than an assortment of mud huts with no running water or electricity. On arrival the team were immediately mobbed by Abba, an alleged Niger guide, who proved to be no dancing queen. Money, money, money was his game and clearly he had yet to meet his Waterloo. After 24 hours of bureaucracy at the hands of the supertroopers the team said thank you for the music and proceeded on their way. The well marked piste rapidly disappeared and a reluctant camp was struck in the desert (readers should note that northern Niger is a warzone that has been compaired to Darfur. Eventually the team stumbled into Arlit via the military headquarters, some swift talking, smiles and cigarettes smoothing the way.
Arlit to Abalack
2 very slow days followed as the team were obliged to travel in a large military convoy. Elite soldiers they were not and they had little patience or understanding of the fact that the maximum speed of a rascal is 56mph. When the inevitable puncture followed the team were left high and dry in the warzone to fend for themselves.
Abalack to Niamey
With time running short the fur balls pushed out an impressive 27 hour straight to Niamey, Nigerian visas being their goal. This was completed with remarkably little fuss save for a near miss when Tony left his passport in his shorts and dropped them off at a launderette. A mystery diarrhoea and vomiting illness drifted around the group with only Chris being relatively spared.