Smara

In the future, we will carry two spare tyres. One spare is fine if, after a puncture, you get the tyre repaired or replaced almost immediately. For most drivers this is not a problem. Our problem, however, on a long trip, is that after a puncture we either we need to abandon the trip to get help or recklessly press on into the wilderness without a spare. For now we have a spare that will probably be fine so long as we did not use it.

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We headed back into the desert. From Boujdour we already knew a route SE. We followed this as far as the Dakar mounds that we had used when travelling south but this time turned to the east to pick up the rally tracks. That was the plan. What actually happened was we headed out into some beautiful open desert where there was nothing and no one to be seen at all. No nomads, no tracks and in places no trees, bushes or any kind of vegetation. The emptiness was really quite remarkable and for the best part of a day we just drove on a compass bearing. We crossed the N5 to Galtat Zemmour, which surprised me by being sealed. Then we found the rally tracks again and set off confidently. Several military patrols passed us going the other way but just waved.

You might think that a hundred or so vehicles charging through the desert would leave a trail the size of a motorway. Occasionally this is true but elsewhere the ground is hard and unmarked or soft and drifted over. In some places, the military traffic makes for the most used tracks. This was the case a day later. Near the ‘corner’ of Mauritania, following a well-used track, we wandered a bit too close to the berm and were picked up by a military patrol. They were, as usual, very polite and almost apologetic. They escorted us back to the track north and gave us a bottle of water as a present. We set off north again following yet more Dakar mounds.

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A day and a half later, we passed by Smara and attempted to reach Chott Mezwat using the rally route rather than the road. This worked well up to a point. We found the rally route, lost it and found it again. We also spotted a snake. I hopped out with the camera. The snake was about a metre long and sandy coloured. It was wriggling away as I walked up to it and then it stopped. Now, I know nothing about snakes really but I do have built in primal instincts so when the snake inflated its cobra hood I stopped as well. We contemplated each other for a moment. He fixed me with his beady eye. I grabbed a photo and then retreated a step. The snake, which I now think was an Egyptian Cobra, lowered his hood and slithered off on his anguine business. Also known to Cleopatra followers as an Asp, these kids should not be messed with.

We did not have the privileged access that the rally enjoys and the next day bumped into another patrol. They asked who we were, where were going and took a copy of our fiche d’identité. This was all quite normal. So was the ensuring half hour wait while they got in touch with someone who could decide what to do with us. This time they wished us “bon voyage” but the next patrol, about 20 minutes later, first took us to their base and then suggested we should go north to the road. We had almost reached the crossing point so as it worked out we only did a few kilometres on tarmac before turning off onto the chott.

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Driving on the big, wide, flat, empty chott is always quite an experience. Chott is a North Africa term for a lakebed. Most of the time this is completely dry. Very, very occasionally after heavy rain and the spring thaw from the Atlas Mountains, there can be a few centimetres of water and this helps keep the surface totally flat and smooth. We saw some terrific mirages. For a while, it genuinely and rather disturbingly, looked like we were driving out along an estuary to the sea. There is no water for hundreds of kilometres and definitely no sea. It had not rained and spring is a while off. Even so, we found ourselves wondering if somehow the lake had found some water. As we drove the shimmering wet surface retreated elusively.

The climb off the chott to the plateau was steep and had given us pause for thought when we’d come down it six weeks earlier. It is fairly well travelled, rocky and fortunately reasonably wide and level. Narrow tracks on steep hillsides worry the hell out of me. This one was wide enough that the truck wheels did not have to hang out over the edge. This made me fairly comfortable. Baloo handled the slope like an old pro. Slow but steady and sure-footed. Powerful engine, all-wheel drive and good tyres make for a powerful combination. The lack of drama was almost a disappointment but any negative sensations were amply replaced by a feeling of satisfaction and a little bit of relief.

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