This time we were prepared for the 3km of rough tracks in no-mans land between the Mauri and Western Sahara borders. Taking each section at a time and having a rough idea of which direction to head in, it was much easier.... mum unimpressed by dads off roading skills so far walked it just in case!
Both sides of the border were much busier than when we had passed through the first time, full of frustrated people, hot and tired, waiting for their forms to be dealt with and their passports stamped
Amongst the people waiting on the Western Sahara side there were 3 or 4 French lads that were having a big argument with Customs when we arrived. Our French not being the best the argument was hard to translate, but we believe they wouldn't let their car through for some reason. They ended up pitching their tent on the concrete in front of the Customs office in protest, but the authorities are going nowhere so just let them get on with it.
I knew it was going to be risky but this really would make a good photo, I managed to take 2 with my phone, with only the French lads noticing. One of them then went to their car and got a camera out to do the same, unfortunately they were spotted instantly, the camera grabbed from him and he was dragged away.... lucky I was subtle!
After about an hour at this border all was dealt with and we were on our way, leaving all the excitement behind us
Unfortunately after 50 miles just as we were pulling into a petrol station in the middle of the desert disaster struck, I looked down and a coloured fluid was all over my boot! Instantly worried it was petrol but it turned out to be coolant fluid. None of us being mechanics we looked for leaks but couldn't see one so we topped up the water and hoped for the best.
It wasn't long before the water was all out again, so again we topped up.
We sat at 60mph for about 160 miles to Dakhla the nearest town, time passed slowly and the miles passed even slower
We finally arrived at Dakhla and headed for the same hotel as before as this was one less thing to think about. Outside the hotel was a police car with 4 policeman sitting in it doing nothing so we asked them if they knew of a bike mechanic. They were helpful and offered to show us the way, so we followed. I wouldn't let anyone at this garage near my bike as I don't think it would have even started after they went near it let alone made it 2500 miles home!
Someone passing the hotel started talking to us and said his friend was a bike mechanic, he came to the hotel and seemed better than the last, so we had to trust him with the bike overnight.
We now have to spend an evening trying not to worry about the bike and how I will get home. That night in the hotel we met an American guy that has spent the last 6 months walking across Spain/Portugal and is now cycling down through Africa. He was a bit crazy but he had many interesting tales from his travels!
Miles covered: 278
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