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Leaving our German friends behind we motored north to Ed Damer and crossed the Nile. This was the last we were to see of the Tarmac. There is certainly none here in Wadi Halfa! We squeezed onto an ancient landing craft in between donkey carts and sat on our roof. Upon disembarking, we entered the Bayudya desert. I will argue with anyone who says the Sahara stops in Libya or Chad. The "A" may end on the map, but the sand and rock continues to the Red Sea. There is a distinct sandy patch between "Black" Africa and "Arab" North Africa. That sandy patch is bloody wide, and I call it the Sahara. So when we took off over the semi firm sands I was at last crossing the Sahara. The Bayudya was incredibly beautiful. Rock formations would appear on the horizon, sometimes they were huge and we would pass them in minutes or sometimes they would become a little larger and then fade to the left or right. Approximately forty miles inland, we came across a small settlement with a well. We asked directions, and the Bedu politely corrected our path. The Michelin map we were using was useless as the locals created their own tracks. Stuart drove while I stood in the back looking out of the observation hatch. I would call out the general direction and inform him of the deep sand patches.
Just before sunset we came across an ubiquitous Bedford TJ. We signalled them, pulled them over and asked the wizened driver for directions. We were navigating by magnetic compass and double checking using GPS. This chap was happily bimbling along in his 40 year old wagon that only had two wheel drive. He didn't need a compass. The Bedford is a testament to British manufacturing quality. Forty years after it was built, these trucks still drive, carry large loads and drive well. I wonder how many Leyland Daf's will still be working in 2040? But then I keep forgetting, Britain doesn't have much industry anymore, even Land Rover is owned by Ford now! Our camp this night was at the base of a rock formation. Cisca went to bed early, but Stuart and I stayed up late chatting by the kerosene lamp of expeditions past and future.
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