Grande Finale

Expedition team with the hospital staff

With only six of us left (Russ, Alice, Graham, Toby, Alberto and Lev) we now had to cover over1500 miles in three and a half days to make Blantyre within 60 days- our cut off point before people had to go back to work- and so the race was on.

Although the roads in Southern Tanzania weren’t too bad there was still some death defying driving being done by the locals- and Graham. That said, we made it to the Malawian border without too much difficulty on Monday morning after a night spent in possibly the worst hotel in Africa. Rammed in between two late night African ‘bars’ down a dripping alleyway the rooms were illuminated with flickering red strip lighting and no windows and the bathroom contained nothing but a broken tap and a bucket in which to make a deposit. Alberto was clearly dumbstruck and the camera immediately came out to capture the moment. Still what can one expect for $1 a night.

The border itself took longer than expected and there was much paperwork to be done to import the ambulances permanently. Despite being advised that he didn’t require a visa, Alberto was informed that he now did and was reluctantly given permission to travel without an entry stamp only as far as the nearest immigration office in Mzuzu. There we duly went only to find a lot of unhelpful officials and a broken printer and so Alberto- now enraged- decided to risk travelling illegally since we all had to fly back to Tanzania in 2 days anyway. The road down through the country was practically empty, since, being the fourth poorest country in the world practically no-one can afford a car and diesel is as expensive as it is in the UK- for us it meant that we could cover 500 miles reasonably quickly as far as Monkey bay, right on the lake where we were to pick up Ruth and Mike for the last stretch. We arrived on the lake late and since everyone was asleep we spent our penultimate night of the trip rough camping in the bush- an apt finish!

We met Ruthie and Mike in the beautiful surroundings of the Norman Carr cottage run by Taffy, right on the shores of Lake Malawi and we were treated to possibly the best showers in the world and a fantastic complimentary fry up which was massively appreciated. Following local advice we even took a dip in the lake (famed for its gut rotting bilharzia) and was well worth it…at least for now…

So with two extra pairs of hands, the 4 hour drive down to Blantyre was a breeze and our last chance to listen to the one CD that had been our only musical companion for the entire trip! (cheers John) We arrived at the BEIT CURE international hospital, located on a beautiful hilltop overlooking the pleasant town at five pm on Wednesday 29th September- exactly sixty days, 25 countries and 10,430 miles after setting off on that rather hungover Sunday morning at the start of summer!

Any reservations that we may have had as to the worthwhile nature of the trip in actually making a contribution to the hospital were immediately blown away when we were greeted by all of the hotel staff and many of the patients who were all incredibly welcoming and friendly and amazed at what we had achieved. John, the hospital consultant put us up in the hotel accommodation annex and treated us to a wonderful meal at Maky’s bar where we got royally drunk.

The ambulances arrival at BEIT CURE

The next morning we had a very early start in order to do the official handover and was surprised when we were greeted by several TV, Radio and Newspaper journalists, all eager to cover our story for the national press. John gave us a guided tour of the hospital- including the AMECA wing which is about halfway to completion- where we were privileged to meet many of the patients and especially the children being treated for a variety of Orthopedic conditions. It was extremely moving to hear of some of the tragic stories and terrible afflictions that are so preventable in the western world but here so prevalent. We were all amazed at just how hard working and incredibly selfless all of the Doctors and staff were at CURE and have our maximum respect for what they are doing.

All that remains is to say a huge thank you to all of our sponsors and to everyone that has given us such huge support throughout what has been an amazing journey. The ambulances have served us very well and we didn’t get a single puncture- so I am certain that they will serve the community of Malawi for very many years to come. The hospital was so very grateful of the new addition to their fleet and I would like to assure everyone that gave money, no matter how much, that these cars will make a big difference and help save many lives. Finally thank you to all of the participants of Expedition Africa Challenge, who without your contribution the trip would never have succeeded.

L Wood
p.s more photos to come

Lev Wood

Crossing the Equator

Leaving Moyale we went back to the future (Ethiopia uses the Gregorian calender which is seven years and eight months behind, making it 2003!) As we crested the hill to the south of the town the road almost immediately vanished into a rocky path and with it virtually all other traffic. Even the locals thought it amusing that we were attempting what Paul Theroux calls the ‘longest road in Africa’.

Soon enough all civilisation had vanished and the low scrub turned once more into barren desert broken only by the occasional sight of a lonely tribesman, spear in hand, wandering aimlessly into the distance. To begin with we argued at how to tackle the deep rutting and vicious corrugation. “keep a steady 25” snapped one. “We’ll never get there, just smash it out” barked another. We tried everything and everything was equally painful. It turned out that a ruthless 40mph made the inexplicable corrugation just about bearable, but didn’t account for the enormous boulders that jutted dangerously out of the sand which resulted in the ambulances being almost shaken to an early grave and the suspension taking a severe battering. At one point, whilst swerving the avoid a pothole 2 feet deep the ‘G’ Reg roof rack flew off depositing jerry cans and kit everywhere. Unrepairable we were forced to repack everything in the back and leave the thing to the hands of the desert.

We arrived shaken but in high spirits in the windy mountainous town of Marsabit, famous for its huge elephants and marauding baboons, where we stayed in the garden of Swiss Henry, an eccentric expat, renown for his dislike of the locals. Nevertheless he supplied much needed beer and we were suitably revived for another day of bad vibrations.

More problems ensued as the brake cable snapped and we had to drive several hundred kilometres with no brakes all the way to the British army outpost of Archers post where Russ had pulled some strings to try and find us a mechanic. Unfortunately we were a day late and the whole outfit had moved on to the headquarters in Nanyuki, a three hour drive to the south. Still, while we were there we decided it would be a shame not to enjoy the nearby Buffalo springs national park where we were treated to viewing a handful of Zebra and plentiful gazelle as well as some tantalizingly distant elephants, not to mention an extravagant buffet dinner in the game lodge, meeting with some curious glances from the wealthy tourists as we scoffed in filthy t shirts and shorts.

That night we drove through the black hills to Nanyuki, a pleasant town filled with a mix of ex pats, British soldiers and local curio hawkers wishing to swap wooden elephants for old trainers. We were greeted by 2 Rifles, the resident battle group who kindly let us stay in the accommodation and did our laundry for free whilst Stu briefed up the local mechanic, ‘Titch’ who pushed us straight to the front of is queue and fixed up the ambulances in no time.

With some time to kill we enjoyed a traditional army breakfast and Will had a pair of cow hide Safari shoes made. Since we were in the middle of Kenya we made the most of the opportunity to see some wildlife and visited the Ol Pejeto national park which was an incredible experience. Almost immediately on entering the beautiful plains we were treated to 3 out of the big 5 as well as plenty of Zebra, Gazelle, Giraffe and smaller game. As the sun set we came across a pack of cheetah stalking some antelope and they didn’t seem to mind as we followed them in the chase to within 20 meters of the kill. That evening we camped up inside the park but only after signing a death disclaimer with the park ranger to say that we were happy to be eaten by the lions. Surprisingly we slept soundly- at least until 8 am when a herd of hungry elephants decided to bash their way into our campsite and woke us up in time to see a solitary lioness hunting deer just a few hundred metres away!!

Although we would have liked to have spent more time enjoying the incredible natural splendour of Kenya we were still 2 weeks behind schedule and were forced to move on south to drop off half the team at Nairobi airport. As an unfortunate postscript to the wildlife drama Charlton managed to squash at least 3 poor creatures on the endangered species list with his frenetic driving (none in edible condition). b

It was with genuine sadness when, after driving through the filthy outskirts of one of Africa’s biggest cities, we had to say goodbye to Ruthie (who had some important meetings in Malawi), Stuart and Will. They have all made an overwhelming contribution in their own way and it is a great shame they will not complete the final few (thousand) miles to the finish. We still haven’t quite figured out what we will do without Stu’s know how with the vehicles and from now on will have to rely on the last remaining Gaffa tape to fix any mechanical issues.

Kenya flew by in a dusty blur and before long we had crossed over the border into Tanzania where we immediately put the ambulances to good use and rescued a sick Masai tribeswoman from the remote borderlands and gave her a lift to the nearest medical centre. The people of Tanzania stood out as incredibly friendly and we were glad to give lifts to several cheerful spear wielding tribespeople along the way. They returned the favour by posing for Alberto’s ever present camera and curling their earlobes around their ears. An impressive feat!

The road wound its way through the increasingly green Bantu hinterland where we were once again favoured with sightings of elephant, giraffe and scores of jaywalking baboon all the way along the main highway to the south. By now we had caught up quite a few days but didn’t help that much since Russ had been forced to cancel much of leave to get back to work 2 weeks early thanks to the capricious nature of the British army. All of us by now had less than a week to reach Malawi and find a flight home and so the next few days will prove to be amongst the longest and most tiring of the whole journey.

Sub Saharan adventures

It felt like an eternity had passed since we had driven as a team but finally we hit the road once again in high spirits. With little apart from a very brown looking blue Nile to keep us in Khartoum, we pressed on out of the shanty city into the increasingly fertile plains of Eastern Sudan. Will and Lev were more than happy to let the others sit behind the wheel for a while and we sped off cheerfully through peaceful villages and suprisingly green pastures towards the Ethipoian border. It came as a bit of a shock as we gained height that the vegetation grew higher and we had truly left the deserts of the Sahara behind and the ‘real’ Africa began here.

It was too late to cross the border by the time we arrived so we camped outside of a tribal village where the cow herders, dressed in their traditional colorful robes greeted us warmly. It made a pleasant change from the rickety hotels and we didn’t mind in the least bit when a thuderstorm came and drenched us to the bone. it was the first rain we had seen in weeks and therefore Graham must be forgiven for mistaking it for a pack of wild goats…

Injera- the ethiopian national dish

After relatively little hassle we crossed the border into Northern Ethiopia and drove to the historical city of Gonder where annoyingly, the famous royal enclosure was closed. A friendly local teenager going by the name of ‘Dood’ took us to celebrate our return to Christendom by having a solid dinner of Injera (a sour pancake topped with beans and very sloppy looking meat) and naturally a couple of beers in what was possibly the seediest restaurant in town. After we broke the news to him that we were’nt going to use his guiding expertise  since we needed to carry on south he agreed to accompany us a few hours down the road to a place called Bahr Dar near to the Blue Nile falls. The poor chap probably regretted the decision after a fall out with the motel owner resulted in a gun being pulled on him- but not us thankfully! Whilst driving over the central mountains we came across a Dutch chap called Ralph Tuijn, a legendary masochist who was competing for the world record cycling unsupported from Cairo to Cape town. He was averaging over 170km per day and was at this stage 10 days ahead of the current record! An impressive feat even given his previous triumphs such as cycling to everest base camp, across Siberia twice and rowing both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. He did at least concede that Graham was probably a little fitter though…

Ralph Tuijn

By now Ruth had been waiting in Addis for a week and we did another 15 hours driving to make it to the capital. Along the way we passed by some of the most incredible scenery many of us had ever seen. It was fantastically green with stunning highlands and impressive mountains and so unlike any of the preconceptions we may have had of the blighted country. Moreover the people were incredibly friendly and the whole place was so clean and tidy and would put most of Europe to shame. We didn’t see a spot of litter the whole time we were there.

The Rift Valley

At every highland village we were greeted by hundreds of villagers wanting to shake our hands and Alberto’s camera naturally went into overdrive as Graham’s natural charm won over the hordes of school children.

Ken with his pet bee eater

We arrived into Addis Ababa in the pitch of night and settled into a friendly hotel managing to cram seven people into a single room. The next morning we finally caught up with Ruth in the plush surroundings of the Hilton hotel where we also met Pam who had been hosting our latest arrival for the past week. Also joining the team is Alice who forewent a beach holiday in Tanzania to join in the expedition. Funnily enough, Russell, who up until now had been in the lead with the ginger beard growing competition decided to shave it all off. A coincidence? Unlikely.

Now up to strength in numbers we snaked ever southwards to the pretty lake of Lagado in the remote bushland of central Ethiopia where we camped in the garden of a local farmer. To his amusement we supplied 4 live chickens for dinner which Toby swiftly despatched and proceeded to spray Will with guts in the resultant bloodbath. Ruth in the meantime suprised everyone by revealing an enormous inflatable air mattress quoting the immortal lines ‘any fool can be uncomfortable’ only to be a little disappointed one day later when a huge thorn burst her bubble…

Bush camping

Suitably nourished we continued to descend into the rough scrub near to the Kenyan border where we spent another night but this time away from any villages. Under Stu’s guidance we built a fence using the local ‘bastard bush’ with its infamous needle like thorns to deter any unwanted hyenas that are known to roam in search of unwary travellers. After a disappointingly short time in this beautiful and memorable country we arrived at the frontier town of Moyale at the border with Kenya and crossed into the British commonwealth and were greeted with a familiar ‘Jambo’ by a huge Soldier in British Camouflage. From now on in we would be driving on the left hand side which will feel slightly strange! We stocked up with supplies knowing that the next few days would be some of the most challenging of the trip so far. Although the Ambulances are holding out up to now- this will be the real test of their capabilities. For the next 300 miles or so there was no road save a boulder strewn, corrugated dirt track running though a sandy desert with no access to water or food. .Moreover it is feted as the most dangerous road in East Africa- renowned for hostile tribes, roving bandits and a hideout for Somalian Pirates….next update from the equator!

Prisoners in Egypt and the relief of Khartoum!

  Just as we thought things couldn’t get any worse…. they did. Since we had been waiting for 9 days in the savage heat and infuriating indolence of Aswan we decided that for the sake of our own sanity we would make a brief trip to the famous temple of Abu Simbel some 300km to the South. By now it was the end of Ramadan and the festival of Eid had begun meaning that all public offices were closed, and with it any chance of catching a ferry until next week. With that we set off after dark on the lonely highway that disappears into the Sahara desert. We were waved on cheerfully through the first police checkpoint, which came as a surprise since tourists are supposed to be part of a convoy. However with each checkpoint the questions grew lengthier and the Police more interested. Despite this we managed to make it to Abu Simbel by catching up with the convoy and tagging along to the ancient ruins where we witnessed the impressive sunrise along with coach loads of package tourists.

We checked in to a filthy hotel called the Abu Simbel tourist village riddled with lice- the only one within our budget, where the gun toting hotelier eyed us with suspicion and immediately called the Police. We were surprised at just how militant the place was, there appeared to be more uniforms than civilians and even the children were all armed with toy guns, playfully sniping us as we walked around town. By the late afternoon, just as we were pondering our situation a fleet of secret Police cars screeched up the dirt track and placed us under immediate house arrest. After searching the ambulances we were subjected to 3 tiresome hours of interrogation. Despite not actually charging us with any specific crime, they were convinced that all of our paperwork was forged since it did not have an ‘official stamp’. The questioning was all rather pointless and centered mainly on what our occupations were and which Christian denomination we belonged to. They were specifically interested in why anyone would bother to drive through so many countries for no personal gain in their eyes. They could not understand the concept of charity and the fact that we were not getting paid for such an arduous journey. Furthermore the beady eyed Secret policeman said that he did not believe that we were visiting the tourist sites and insinuated that we must be smugglers or spies since we were not part of a tour group. To top it off we were told that we were forbidden to drive anywhere in Abu Simbel and that our passports would be confiscated for the night to check our visas were genuine. Thoroughly fed up with Egypt and the Egyptians we spent a sleepless night in the flea pit and found that our passports were still not forthcoming. It took a further six hours of insistence and calls to the British Embassy until our passports were returned.

'Sword' our secret detail

Under an armed Police escort we were evicted from Abu Simbel and returned to Aswan where we were immediately assigned a Secret Police detail to follow us. Like a scene from a poorly written boys own spy novel, these Ray Ban wearing agents followed us like shadows for three days. Wherever we went, whether by foot or car they would be on our tails, hiding behind trees or parking up two or three cars behind. Of course they were pretty conspicuous, especially since our hotel lobby was now full with these people pretending to talk on their mobiles whenever we walked past so for our own amusement we would give them a knowing nod or even a wave adding to their embarrassment. Eventually, when the Police realised just how farcical the situation was, one of them, introducing himself only as ‘Sword’ approached us and told us that he was under orders to follow us until we left Egypt. By now Mahmoud had promised us that the ferry would be leaving on Monday and so since we had a couple of days to kill we decided to make the most of our shadow and took them on a jolly runaround. We fixed the cars, took a Felucca ride on the Nile and went fishing, and these poor blokes had to follow us everywhere. Finally on Monday we went back to the port, sensing that it would be for the final time, yet not wanting to tempt fate and claim victory until we were well and truly free of Aswan. It took all morning but we were cleared through customs and immigration and loaded the cars onto the rickety old barge amid piles of Rice and boxes of tuppaware. We had no choice but to pay the extortionate price of 20,000 Egyptian pounds but by now it didn’t matter- we were leaving Egypt.

Mahmoud- glad to be rid of us

Waving goodbye to all the characters of this sordid farce- the cheerful Mahmoud, the horrid Rashad and the sinister Policemen, we set sail with a crew of Nubian sailors out of Aswan and southwards, down lake Nasser to the Sudanese frontier, where, we hoped, the others would be waiting.

By now we are a full 2 weeks behind schedule which means that we will not have any more rest days and will need to drive solidly for 2 weeks through Africa if we have any hope of the group making it to Malawi as a team. The others have been sweating it out in Khartoum now for 4 days and Ruth is waiting in Addis for us but we hope to be back on track soon. I think next time we will avoid Egypt with its obstructive Police state mentality, harassing locals, ridiculous bureaucracy and stone throwing children.

The 'barge'

2 days passed slowly as the barge trundled along at 5mph winding its way with our ambulances and Steve’s Landrover (another overlander we had been stranded with) and us baking nicely on the shadeless metal tin can. The crew muttered to themselves and despite our offers of Baksheese refused to sail through the night due to the dangers of the river. With nothing to do but read and sleep we pondered whether or not the rest of the gang would in fact wait our their own pergatory in Khartoum.

The crew

To our relief they did. We passed through customs on tuesday in the lonely outpost at Wadi Halfa where the famous Mazar stood with our papers at the ready and before we knew it we were being waved off into the Nubian desert. Another 2 days of solid driving by Will and Lev resulted in a near stop stopping accident when a Sudanese Policeman thoughtlessly left a tractor tyre in the middle of the road- unlit- at night causing Lev to swerve off the road and lose a wheel. Nevertheless we patched up quickly enough and barely gave a thought to the impressive desrert to our flanks. Finally at one o clock on thursday the two ambulances came screetching to a halt in the chaotic streets of Khartoum and found the rest of the team asleep in the lobby of their hotel. It was a welcome reunion after 11 days of staying put. We decided immediately to crack on and be done with deserts once and for all. Ethiopia awaits…

Groundhog day

Scores of overweight German package tourists waddle in and out of the upper end resorts blissfully unaware that they are paying 20 times the value of a stuffed camel and perhaps our only comfort is the fact that the locals barely hassle us anymore. Most of the hawkers know us if not by name then certainly by association. “Hey Mr expedition, you not go Sudan yet?”

We must be the Hathor hotel’s longest staying customers. Each day, after wasting hours running around chasing shadowy port officials we return from the high dam port office to Aswan town, dishevelled and disappointed.  Eid is fast approaching and with it our last chances of catching a boat for another week. It has been ten days now and time is running out. The rest of the group are holed up south of the border in a filthy frontier town with nothing to do but loaf around in 45 degree heat waiting for the ambulances to arrive.

At least we have found one friend amongst the crowd of useless bureaucrats. Mahmoud Idris works for the ferry company but is originally from Sudan and is probably the only person willing to help. He has spent the last three days working on our behalf trying to find a way out but now the infinitely stubborn manager of the port, Mr Rashad who is as idle as he is corrupt has now doubled the price of the ferry to an incomprehensible £5000. This is clearly out of the question and so while we ponder our fate we try to have as much cross border communication as possible but we can only imagine the others frustration. We can only hope for a miracle.

Pinning our hopes…

As the sun sets over the Nile in Aswan for the fifth night it is difficult to imagine leaving the place. Will and Lev have taken the rearguard and stayed behind to look after the ambulances while the remainder of the team have pushed south on the only passenger ferry this month. It was a difficult decision to split the group but we haven’t had much choice. Failure to take the ferry would have meant a wait of a further fortnight and we have now been told that there is a reasonable chance of getting a barge tomorrow after 5 days of solid negotiation with local notaries. It appears that knocking on the governors door has helped as the local ferry agent- the omnipresent Mr Salah- a small figure who looks a bit like Gandhi but with infinitely fewer scruples- has now caved in and allowed us access to the port authority. This morning was spent chasing round after the manager of engineering at the Aswan Dam who also caved under intense pressure to allow 2 of us to accompany the ambulances on the cargo barge that we hope to charter tomorrow. This is apparently very unconventional as the barge is simply a flat pontoon dragged by a tug with no facilities or shade and can take up to three days to make the journey and we have had to sign a rather informal disclaimer to keep the pen pushers happy. Furthermore we still have yet to convince a crew to man the boat (the festival of Eid is next week, and is the equivalant of christmas  in Islam) let alone agree a price. Failure to do so will mean that two of us are truly stuck but we have our fingers crossed.

By now the others should be halfway to Sudan and will await our arrival in Wadi Halfa. In our desperation we have come to rely somewhat on the locals and in doing so have realised that despite the Egyptians rather materialistic outlook, many of them actually do want to help, and our faith was restored today when walking down the street bazaar and we were invited by a local shopkeeper to break his fast at sundown and eat his delicious food. We could barely believe it but it goes to show that we shouldn’t judge too soon. We can only hope for a similar reversal of fortunes tomorrow when dealing with the inevitable round of bureaucracy at the port.

We would also like to say a massive thank you for the incredible support back home that we have received. People’s generosity has been outstanding and we are about half way to securing the amount required to pay for the ferry. We really appreciate your help and please keep it coming!

Stranded in Aswan

On day 33 of the expedition we received the news that we had been dreading. The notorious Aswan to Wadi halfa ferry has been cancelled- at no notice- and for apparently no reason- or rather several hundred different reasons. This is currently the only way to cross from Egypt to Sudan as all land borders are currently militarized zones and the Egyptian army refuses passage. This leaves us in a huge quandry as we have now been stuck in the city of Aswan for three days with no hope of moving on until at least 20th September. The team, despite being extremely disappointed have worked very hard to exhaust every possible avenue- we have tried to convince local sailors to take us over the border, met with the chief of the Port Authority as well as the regional governor but the story is different every time- the water is too high; the water is too low; there are no boats; the boats are broken; we need an Egyptian crew; we need a Sudanese crew and so it goes on. The Egyptians have so far proved to be entirely unreliable, dishonest and unhelpful not to mention being interested only in how they can deprive us of our money. This unfortunately puts us in the unfavourable position of having to seek out the right people to charter a whole ferry for ourselves but even if this is possible (Ramadan has put a halt to pretty much all work) it will come at an exhorbitant cost of something in the region of £2000! At the moment all we can do is wait and see if we can get the offer of a boat but in the meantime we would beseech anyone who would like to help to please make a donation using the details on the website. We would really appreciate your help!

Egypt

As we whiled away the day waiting for the ambulances to be fixed we took the obligaotory horse and camel ride around the pyramids, donned in full linen suits of course. Toby managed to get the photo he was after, dressed in exactly the same rig and in the same stance as his grandfather when he was posted here during the 1940s. Lev managed to get thrown from his horse for a second time this year (badly attached saddle) but no substantial injuries this time, and to everyone’s amusement Alberto caught the whole thing on his trusty camera.

On Monday afternoon Ritchie finally had to say goodbye and catch his flight. His fluent arabic and unique sense of humour will be sorely missed! we finally collected the ambulances in the afternoon from the professional desert cars company (conveniently located in between the donkey stand and the mangrove swamp) and although the bill came to almost £500 it was still considerably cheaper than it would have been in the UK.

We left Cairo in the relative quiet of evening  where for about an hour the city comes to a standstill in order for the muslims to break their fast during Ramadan.  As the sun set & the sound of the call to prayer was just fading we found the streets lined with children pelting the cars with what appeared to be water bombs. After passing a few groups we realised they were in fact giving us bags of water, grape juice and sweets to help us on our journey.

We pressed on up the Nile valley for a few hours, and at 2am started the usual fun of where to rough camp for the night. The banks of the Nile are heavily irrigated for agriculture, and also quite densely populated not only by farmers but also crocodiles! After having tried a few dead end tracks we were taken in and given a spot to camp beneath the palm trees in the grounds of a hospital in the aptly named village of Mallawi! Apart from the adjacent train line, car horns, animals and 4am call to prayer we slept soundly, fully refreshed and ready for another eight hour drive in the scortching sun.

More Police checkpoints ensued and just as we were beginning to tire of the continual demand for passports, a Police captain helpfully insisted on escorting us the 100km around the town of Asyut. With sirens blaring, all traffic obediently pulled out of our way and we screetched happily like a convoy of VIPs at a respectable 60mph. Eventually we arrived in Luxor yesterday evening and since we have reached the halfway point having completed 5,500 miles we treated ourselves to a decent hotel (it got a C+ from Shwetank) with a pool overlooking the Nile.

Stu excelled himself yet again with another day slaving over the cars with Toby trying to fix the headlights whilst the rest of the gang explored the famous temples of Luxor and enjoyed a felucca ride on the river. Shwetank by now had had his fill of the rough life and after a very brief three days on the expedition flew home to India. As for the rest of us, we await the arrival of Will and then plan to head south to Aswan and attempt to convince someone to take us down the Nile into Sudan. Its unlikely we will have internet for at least a week or so from now on in…next update from Ethiopia all being well.

Into Africa…

Once a sleepy fishing village attracting the occasional wandering hippy, Dahab has recently become a backpacker hotspot made infamous in recent years with several AlQaida bombs being detonated in the resort in 2006. Fortunately for us all was quiet this week and we were able to let our hair down and enjoy our first beers for a while and even had a chance for a bit of reef snorkelling.

Despite our rudimentary car fix the vehicles held out as we embarked on the long journey across the Sinai desert where we were confronted with military checkpoints throughout the day. We tried our best to keep our patience, knowing that the heightenend security was for our own benefit. About halfway across the Sinai penninsula lies the centuries old St Katherines monastary, at the foot of Mount Sinai where Moses received the ten commandments. Unfortunately it was closed when we arrived as the small community of Greek monks were hard at prayer and so we had to content ourselves with a few photos outside before continuing into the evening where the real adventure was to begin.

Whatever we thought about middle eastern driving so far we hadn’t quite reckoned for such an incredible descent into chaos as we encountered egyptian night driving. Impossibly winding mountain roads, unmarked speedbumps, hidden military checkpoints combined with the general rule that motorists either drive with full beam or no lights whatsoever made for an interesting journey to the west coast. Totally exhausted we couldnt face another three hours to cairo and decided to rough camp on the beach…

With roll mats unfurled and teeth brushing underway, Jon went off to answer the call of nature in what he assumed to be an abandoned beach hut. Then, out of the darkness came the unmistakable jolt of an AK47 being cocked and what we assumed was the arabic for ‘halt’! Winfield shot up like a rocket with his hands in the air as two armed soldiers appeared out of the black night pointing their machine guns at him. Luckily Jon quickly regained his natural unperturbedness and explained (still with hands in the air) that he was a mere British holidaymaker looking for an al freco toilet. The two soldiers must have seen that the hawaiin-short wearing individual in front of them was not in fact a terrorist making an illicit beach landing and so lowered their weapons and approached the rest of the group, apologising profusley for any inconvenience caused. They advised us that beach camping was prohibited and so we swiftly made an exit, driving a little way into the desert before eventually getting a rather disturbed night under the stars.

Yesterday we completed the drive past Suez through the tunnel that seperates Asia from Africa and arrived in Cairo at lunchtime where we then spent several hours trying to find another mechanic. Luckily for us Toyotas are very widespread in this region and we found a landcruiser specialist (in the middle of a shanty town populated mainly by donkeys) where the cars currently reside.

In the meantime we have tried to avoid getting run over by some of the worst drivers in the world and generally getting some admin done. In the evening we went to the sound and light show at the Pyramids where Ritchie, evidently exhausted by his constant use of arabic, managed to fall asleep throughout the whole show.

 Today was spent sweating in the Sudanese embassy where suprisingly we got our visas in a rapid 4 hour turnaround despite everyones worst fears. On the flipside we heard a disturbing rumour that the ferry we need to take from Aswan, up the Nile to Wadi Haifi in Sudan is currently out of service for a month. As it stands we aim to carry on regardless to see if the military highway is passable or else look into other alternative routes. Either way this will probably mean a massive fee so if anyone reading knows any high standing Egyptians then please let us know!!

At this stage we also had to say goodbye to Jon who flew home after a brief week on the road, but also welcomed Shwetank on board who will be with us for a few days in Egypt.

Jordan: Rose red cities and desert dunes

Unable to find a mechanic, or the spares we needed to sort out our new brake problems, Stu had to make do with taping a set of mole grips to one of the brake hoses which means that we are running one of the ambulances with only three brakes working and will be forced to do so until we reach Cairo, and the prospect of a degree of civilisation.

 In the meantime we whiled away an incredible afternoon in the famous ruins of Petra, one of the modern wonders of the world (modern in the loosest sense of the term as it is actually over two thousand years old). Lev guided the team through the sandstone marvel that once played host to the filmakers of Indiana Jones and the last crusade. Russell added to the atmosphere by playing the theme tune on loop from his IPhone and Ritchie dressed up to the part in a full linen suit.

We made our way up the valley, passing by the famous treasury building up to the monastary which is perched on a plateau overlooking the valley of moses. As the sun set we were all happily gazing across the crimson landscape when Ritchie decided to break into poetry, reciting Burckhardts evocative lines. Needless to say, it soon got rid of any unwanted Bedouin hawkers…

With yet more hitchikers in tow (Paul from Newcastle and some French girls this time), we descended from the heights into the desert of Southern Jordan- in low gear- to experience some true off roading in the dunes of wadi Rum.

The huge sandy valley surrounded by mountains was once a favourite haunt of Lawrence of Arabia and the scene of one of his most famous train ambushes during the first world war. Now a popular hangout for camel riding tourists, it is still an incredible piece of nature far grander than any of us had seen before.

Finally we arrived in the port city of Aqaba on wednesday where we snapped up the last few tickets on the Egyptian bound ferry (forking out a hefty $950 for the privilidge of avoiding driving through Israel). After much paperwork we managed to grab a couple of hours sleep on the floor of the cafe before disembarking in the scorching heat of Nuweiba on the red sea where we had to endure the worst bureauracracy of the trip so far. It took about 4 hours and another $500 of visas and paperwork before we eventually emerged out of customs and headed south to dahab, a friendly dive resort where the internet actually works!! Next stop Cairo.