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Sahara diary - last part!
Saturday
Wake up call at 6am, so that we could pack up camp and start our journey back to Ourzazate.
The whole camp and all personnel had to be piled into the kitchen lorry which had been with us all week, together with another truck and a 4WD which had appeared out of the ether. Apparently we were some 40 kilometres from a metalled road, so the first part of the journey was across the salt pan in the trucks.
Our own bags were packed and the sleeping tents taken down quite quickly but the packing up of the communal tent and kitchen tent took considerably longer. Eventually we were ready; the kitchen equipment was piled onto the larger truck, sleeping mats piled on top and about 30 people piled on top of that. The remainder climbed into the second truck and a favoured few were privileged to ride in the jeep. The cameleers sorted out their animals, themselves and their few belongings and we waved goodbye as they set off back to the starting point.
The truck journey took over two hours. It was decidedly uncomfortable as we had to stand all the way, clinging onto the sides and being shaken and bumped as we crossed the firm but far from smooth terrain. There was spectacular scenery on the horizon which helped pass the time. We saw the same rock formations as yesterday, only closer up and felt we could be extras in a cowboy film as we passed buttes and mesas (thanks to my geomorphology advisor for the precise terms). Unfortunately the truck was too bumpy and too crowded to allow us to take any photographs.
Eventually reached the metalled road and were relieved to see our transport there – one small coach and two minibuses. It was the most extraordinary feeling to sit on a normal seat instead of straight on the ground. Realised that it was almost exactly a week that we last sat on a seat!
We were returning to Ourzazate on a different road and our starting point was a small town or large village called Foum Zguid which seemed almost as big as Zagora but not so tourism oriented. As before it was a long bus ride – about 3 hours – but it was through the mountains and was interesting scenery.
About half an hour outside Ourzazate we stopped for our last picnic. Our picnic spot was an actual oasis at the side of the road, complete with palm trees and running water. We enjoyed a meal of the usual standard, with the addition of fresh bread, as the jeep had done a detour into one of the villages.
A very strange incident at this spot was the arrival of two small caravanettes, each carrying a north European couple of retirement age, one of which had brought their apricot coloured toy poodle – weird! or it seemed so at the time.
Back to Ourzazate for 3pm and time for a very quick change and freshen up before exploring the town. It was only a small town but we were able to change some money and head off to the very small souk (market) to buy dates, nuts and olives to bring home and to take part in a bit of haggling for ceramics.
Darkness started to fall at 5.30, so back to the hotel for the joy of a bath and hair wash and then everyone decided to stay in the hotel for a final celebration meal. A few speeches and awards and distribution of Mirage to Mirage T-shirts. So, I really have been there, done that and got the T-shirt!
Wake up would be at 4.30, to make sure we were at the airport for the 6.45 flight to Casablanca, - the only flight of the day unfortunately. Some of us head off to bed early, the more energetic go clubbing, on the grounds that there would be hours to kill at Casablanca when they could doze.
Sunday
Bonjour madame, 4.30….. was the first thing I heard after my head hit the pillow the previous night. Fortunately I wasn’t so deeply asleep that I couldn’t work out that the phone was ringing and needed answering. Breakfast at 5 and the plan was to leave the hotel at 5.30 but in our usual chaotic fashion it was more like 6 when we set off and 6.15 when we reached the airport to check our luggage through to Heathrow and set off on our first leg of the journey, to Casablanca. Amazingly, we all got checked through and the flight set off more or less on time and landed at Casablanca at 7.30. Only five and a half hours till the flight leaves to Heathrow! Oh joy!
Time passed slowly, or seemed to. We chatted, wrote diaries, visited the limited duty free shops, chatted some more, tried to doze and do all the other things travellers do to try to make the time pass. It seemed strange to be so inactive after such a physical week.
Eventually the flight was called and set off on time for an uneventful trip back. One hour out of Heathrow, the pilot told us that the ground temperature in London was 2 degrees! For some reason this made us laugh!
We had a smooth landing and went to reclaim our luggage with some degree of trepidation – it was very chaotic at Ourzazate last time we saw it – had it really made it to London or did it get diverted or misdirected to Paris or New York? All was well; the bags started coming on the conveyor. We grabbed our bags and hugged our new found friends, with promises that we would write and send photos. Goodbye to our big adventure and hello again to our normal life, as we met up with those who had come to fetch us.
This account concentrates on the challenge itself and the adventure of trekking in the Sahara. I feel I should stress how privileged we all felt to be able to take part in the challenge and to raise funds for such a worthwhile cause. We often spoke about it as we walked. The trip overall is expected to raise over £100 000 **and thanks are due to all who have contributed and to our friends and families who have supported us
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Our trip, and the one which followed a week later finally raised over £300 000 for MacMillan.
Hope you enjoyed this - thanks for reading! H
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