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Full Description
A solo, off-tracks Sahara expedition where the author faced ... unusual problems: his maps and satellite images were confiscated in mid-Sahara. But he went on to complete a complex, demanding and, at times, hazardous 700-mile off-piste route to visit and photograph the extraordinary landscapes he was determined to see. A carefully calculated risk, not reckless buccaneering, executed with considerable care. With one or two nasty surprises.
Told tongue-in-cheek - with humour, a passion for the desert, a boundless sense of wonder, a love of nature, technical detail - and accompanied by achingly beautiful pictures of Algeria's pristine Sahara. The story finishes with some sharp opinion and proposals for a Protected Area in the Sahara - with signs of a light at the end of the tunnel.
Contents
Jacket flap. `There were eight of us. We had vehicles. We had supplies. We had water. But over the dune the little Mauritanian boy, no more than six years old, walked carefully towards our camp, concentrating hard on not spilling his precious gift - a bowl of camel's milk. Even as I write, all these years later, I am moved to tears ... '
Chapter 7. `I stopped the wagon well short so as not to alarm the animal and so the man could see who I was. He stopped too, threw a leg over the pommel of the saddle, slipped down from the huge beast and we walked towards each other to shake hands. The man was but a boy, probably no more than 17, smooth skin on the part of his face I could see behind the dark head cloth, a fine fuzz of hair on his upper lip. He led his camel by a thin rope attached to a ring in its right nostril. The pair seemed to be one, almost inert, each totally calm, totally at one with their environment. I don't know if the boy had met skinny white men in odd vehicles like this before, wearing shorts, their pale uncovered legs looking curiously out of place. Straight-faced, he didn't seem to know what to do. I think he was shy. ... I made the actions of pulling on a well rope and pointed to the camel. At last the young man smiled a broad understanding smile. It was wonderfully worth the wait.'
Chapter 8. `At last after another mile or so, the implacable barrier of hills ahead, Wadi 'N' revealed the little wadi to the south, the right turn at the bend by a rounded hill. I checked the GPS that had faithfully recorded the weaving path this far and showed in enlarged figures the bearing and distance to the wadi's entry point, now only a mile and a half off.
I raised my eyes from the GPS to look ahead between the narrow walls of the entry wadi and couldn't believe what I saw.'
