There are two parts to this page: the
Travel Facts section, and the
Diary section.
Key Travel Facts - Details that other overlanders might like to know
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Complete the various bits of paperwork that you are supposed to (we still don’t really know what) on the ferry from Italy, rather than doing it when you arrive. We think it would have made things a bit easier.
So far, we don’t think it’s worth trying to camp in the towns or cities. You’re better off finding a hotel with decent parking, which seems easy enough.
It is almost difficult to wild camp – in rural areas the ‘landowner’ will normally be so excited to see you that they will insist on you sleeping in their house.
Travelling in Ramadam is a good way to save money – difficult to get food and drinks during the day.
The desert is awesome, and dune driving rocks, so if you get a chance to hook up with some others, then do it. M Oueslati from www.sharareisen-ouslati.de comes highly recommended! (by us that is)
A completely bomber front and rear towing loop/hook/anchor is essential for dune driving (well, for the recover part anyway!)
DIARY - How we're getting on, and what we've been up to
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A quick update on how things have been in Tunisia so far…
Nights spent sleeping in proper buildings: 3
Number of punctures: 1, but we await to see what the abrasive sand is doing to the other three
Number of cock-ups: 0
Treating ourselves: Joining the package holiday crowd
Slumming or Adventuring it: Dune driving through the Sahara. Superb!
ARRIVING IN TUNISIA
Driving off the ferry, we had naively hoped that there might be little more bureaucracy than our earlier cross channel ferry. We couldn’t have been more wrong. Thankfully the friendly and helpful nature of everyone we came across made the ensuing three hours slightly more bearable as we were sent from one block to another, and then to another. Various forms completed, a quick trip outside the customs compound to photocopy various document which they had given us, and we were waved on through. At least one hour of this confusion was caused by the GPS – let’s hope it pays back later! However, we couldn’t help but feel lucky as we watched local cars completely unloaded within the search area. And quite some loads – we spotted one Golf with two large motorbikes laid on cardboard and roped onto the roof, another was so weighed down that the front wheels were barely touching the ground!
We settled into a hotel near the port, reassured by the abundance of other overland vehicles. We would surely pick up some tips over dinner, or simply by loitering around the vehicles. Sure enough a congregation merged to inspect the Patrol’s shock absorbers (or at least I think that is what they were doing – perhaps they were looking for loose change) and we took this opportunity to strike up conversation. They were a large German group, headed for some dune blasting in the desert. They would cross Tunisia tomorrow. Clearly more man than us, but then we could tell that by the size of their winches. At eight O’clock the doors opened for dinner and we took our seats. Rather than being presented with the menu, our starter arrived. We would clearly be eating the ‘set menu’. By 8.30 the whole ordeal was over, and the restaurant was again quiet. Tomorrow we would look around Tunis.
TUNIS
We had a good time in Tunis and one day was enough. We spent some time wondering freely around the Medina until the tourist police came and separated us from our latest ‘friend’ and led us back to the tourist area. From there we saw the President’s house, the Prime Minister’s house and plenty of Mosques. By now it was time to head back towards our hotel to pick up the car, via an internet café and bank. We set off for Hammamet.
HAMMAMET
Hammamet turned out to be a sprawling mass of package holiday hotels, the streets lined with bronzed Europeans browsing the various trinket stores. With the only campsite shut, we decided to join them and found ourselves a cheap place for the night. Our cheap place, though cheap, (12GBP for the room) turned out to be completely deserted, and with our own private swimming pool, terrace, balcony and restaurant we quickly decided that we would be staying for two nights. A complimentary cocktail, and flower petals scattered across on our bed confirmed we had made the right decision. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. As luck would have it, it has also turned out to be a comfortable place for our stomachs to adjust to the African food.
HEADING FOR THE DESERT
En-route to Touzeur, itself on the edge of the Tunisia salt lakes, we stopped off at El Jem to admire the Roman Anthe-theatre. Built to seat 30,000 (compared to 40,000 in the Acropolis – I think I remember those numbers correctly) it is a truly impressive building. The structure remains intact from when it was built, and the tunnels and sections of false-flooring have been excavated so that you can actually walk around through the gladiator ‘cages’. All very impressive. Then we headed on, and noting Lonely Planet’s descritiption of Sfax as ‘an unpleasant industrialized port’ decided to pass around and continue towards Touzeur. Once in the countryside we would try our first ‘wild camp’.
WILD CAMPING… OR NOT
So, what does ‘wild camping’ entail, and how would we set about it? Simple… be took one of the side tracks off the ‘main’ road, itself a quick reminder that we were approaching the desert as the track was very sandy and quickly gripped the wheels, and we continued until we found a small shack. This would do – we would ask if we could camp somewhere on there land. ‘Puis je camp si’vous plait’ or something. The inhabitants clearly only spoke Arabic, and beyond welcoming one another we could do little else. So we did this for five minutes. Then followed a game of charades, involving tents and cookers for props. It quickly became clear that we would not be using either, and the family proudly welcomed us in for what would be a truly memorable night.
To break the ice, a quick game of Aerobie. Now, the desert (which we were to all intents and purposes in) is essentially a very large beach. Add to that an energetic and enthusiastic arab who has never seen a Frisbee before, and what followed was the most exhausting game of aerobie I have ever played, though I must confess to feeling rather “Palin-esque”. Thankfully darkness fell (I would have gone soon) and we went inside. We had a great evening; they cooked good food for us, we gesticulated and smiled a lot, and used a map to show what we were doing. The most articulate of the family quickly commented that it was “impossible”. Perhaps we should give up now. Their house was simple, and the family farmed the land. They showed us their prayer room (a small mosque) and how they collect water – rain water for washing, and well water for drinking. Throughout the evening various relatives popped in for a quick stare.
For me, the most refreshing moment of the evening came when it emerged that they had not heard of Manchester United or David Beckham (though they did know of Ronaldo). It was a strange mix of reasonable ‘wide world’ awareness, combined with complete isolation. Excepting their mobile phone which was proudly hanging on the wall (that Nokia text receipt tone is taking over the world) they really were cut off.
Breakfast was a challenge as Gina physically gagged after a generous mouthful of milk (it was ‘pretty sour’) and we both had difficulty with the moisture-wicking something-or-other. Fruit was good though. We said thanks, and asked whether they would like us to take a photo – they rushed inside to change into their best clothes. The Polaroid was a big success. We left, all smiles and thanks and not a mention of money. I don’t know who had found it more exciting – us or them.
SALT LAKES
We found the campsite in Tozeur and settled down to relax. It was cool in the Palmeries, and nice to have a bit of a wonder around. Then through the salt lakes (el Chott), detouring slightly off the main road for a bit of a drive on the lakes out to a stranded bus. We were too late to save anyone though, although the chasis had not quite rusted through – it had been there a while. Returning to the road we felt a proud glow at our first successful off-roading. Arriving it Douz we were pleased to find an equally shady campsite spot and rushed out to the Dunes to see the sun set. Not quite the dramatic 200m dunes of Morocco, so a little disappointed, but tempted enough for a dip out into them with Forbie. Really getting quite adventurous now (and nearly stuck)!
THE DESERT
Speaking to the campsite owner and some other overlanders we decided to push out to Sagila (Ksar Gulane local spelling), an oasis town about 90km out into the desert from Douz. There was a ‘pipeline piste’ that we could follow – and yes, we would definitely be fine even though we had never driven in sand before. “You have 4x4 don’t you”, so off we set. The drive seemed challenging as we went from rock track (where Nigel complained that “this was supposed to be a piste road”) to full on sand piste. Four wheel drive pulled us through, and we were soon ‘skiing’ through the thick patches. It was only when we occasionally stopped and got out that we would realize how soft the surface was – really deep, soft, powdery sand. One of our stops was to direct a micro-light pilot who had landed on the track ahead of us to ask directions!
We arrived at our Oasis town and set up camp in the woods with other overlanders – a friendly group of Germans. As their guide began talking to us we made plans to join them for the drive tomorrow (“a direct drive through the dunes to Douz so that you can see some desert – yes, fine for a first dune drive”). The team would prove to support and help us superbly. For now, a quick dip in the oasis pool, a chance to look at the stars and the remarkable moon shadow, and off to bed – slightly apprehensive about the drive tomorrow.
DUNE DRIVING – IT ROCKS!!
With camp broken, engines warmed, and tyres deflated for the sand, we moved off into the Sahara. It was nice to be moving as a convoy and we would follow Peter and Guntha in their Landcruiser, with Michael and Eva following us in a Landrover. At least that was the plan – for now it appeared that we would be at the back. Only fifty metres from camp we broke off the road and began to work our way through the dunes, heading out into absolutely nothing for a lot further than the eye could see. Moeldi, the guide, had explained to use ‘plus gaz’ and this would turn out to be the phrase of the day. And with ‘plus gaz’ screaming we powered through the dunes. Perhaps twenty minutes later we emerged onto a sand plateau on the other side where we re-grouped. We were pleased to have completed the dune drive for the day, and I suspect were both secretly quite impressed with our performance (or at least I was - Nigel).
Moeldi now explained that we would soon begin the dune driving and that we should move up through the order to drive behind him. Again, a little apprehension built as he provided a quick coaching session in Charade form. I think ‘plus gaz’ was the main point. So, off we went. Now the dunes were big, certainly towering above the car and roof-rack, and it took ‘low range 4x4’ and second gear to keep us powering through. The ride was awesome as we full throttled up big dunes, easing off to cruise down them, and powering off again before the bottom. In the tight bends we would turn the wheel, full throttle again, and wait the for the front wheels to bite and pull us round. When done right, it felt like pro-skiing through moguls (I would imagine). When done wrong, it felt like jumping off a low wall to land on your bottom whilst being simultaneously hit on the head. With time, we seemed to be getting it right more than wrong.
As the engine screamed on, it began to heat up, and it was when we stopped an hour or so later that I opened up the bonnet to let it cool a little. Chris Scott (UK desert driving Guru) had made this suggestion in one of the books I had read, so it was no drama. But with the bonnet open, the German men swarmed like bees round a honeypot. I had experienced the same phenomena the previous night when checking the oil, so this was no surprise and I calmly explained that the engine was a little hot. Surely this was no surprise – we had just been driving through powder dunes in 40 degrees for an hour or so. ‘Nein Nein, this is not right’. Tools were quickly fetched from the vehicles, and ‘keeping our engine cool’ became the order of the day. Within minutes our fan was out (no wonder it was so hot in the cab – who on earth placed the Toyota fan right up in the bonnet?) and they set upon dismantling it. We were nervously aware of a large chap loitering behind the crowd with a big lump hammer, but thankfully he was never needed. Indeed, the fan clutch was not locking, and a smart piece of field mechanics involving two washers fixed this, and it was soon back together and working. A great demonstration of Quality German Mechanics. We offered washing liquid to clean their hands, but of course they had the real mechanics stuff. At least we were able to feel chuffed that we had provided them with such a mini-project.
Then we were off. The dunes got bigger, the engine got louder (and cooler), the sand got softer, and we evidently got stickier. On more than a few occasions we were hauled out by combinations of various other cars, people and shovels. We felt bad as we slowed the group, but they were excellent tutors and patient with it – “you learn by doing”, and we certainly were! A few times I struggled to believe that we were actually lacking power on some of the dunes. Admittedly this was only where we had approached too slowly, but I now understand exactly why Toyota Landcruisers have 4 litre diesel engines, and it is not for squeezing 5 minutes off the Reading to Kensington commute. For a while we switched drivers and I was able to take the passenger seat in Forbie. Evidently I had been going to gently, and when we switched back I threw her at it with more zest. We didn’t get stuck again, though I am still struggling with the disbelief that the chasis did not break.
As the sun began to set we reached a final sand plateau and roared across it. This was Paris – Dakar, only Ksar Gulane – Douz. Tearing across the sand with the sun going down was magic.
The dunes we had been going through appeared completely impassable, and we both agreed that it was quite amazing that 4x4s could get through them. The battering that the car had taken was incredible, and we had not got off much more lightly, but the experience was well worth it. Think adrenaline, skill and concentration, mixed with some physical digging and pushing!
The following day was spent bolting bits back on, making a (short) list of things that would need to be done in a garage, and then later fixing a puncture (the sand had got inside the tyre, wearing through the inner tube). No real damage done, and a truly superb experience. However, we both agreed that Forbie would be taking it easy from now on. We drove on to Tozeur since that is what everyone seemed to think we should do.
Tomorrow we will head on to meet our Libyan guide at the border.