It seemed almost a shame to leave. I had been made to feel most welcome by Mustapha and Houcine. Now I left after exchanging details with them and headed on the road to Bouanane. From here I would take the N10 'desert highway' to Bouldenib and then cut a corner off using a piste to reach Erfoud.

Houcine and I at Mustapha's rather impressive guest house

The road was lovely and empty and with my new calculations for distances I could travel, I knew I would reach Erfoud without hitting the reserve but being lighter on the piste. I still hadn’t managed to find the problem with the fan, but there was a fair westerly wind blowing which would help the cooling situation, and I could always stop if it got too hot.

The beginning of the piste was easy to find and before long, I had an oued, a riverbed to cross. This is the situation where I had come a cropper yesterday. I slowed right down and paddled with my feet getting through it fine, but in a most undignified manner. Most of the day’s oued crossing were like this until an Eureka moment.

The sat nav had the route programmed into it but we were soon off this track because someone had dug a 20 foot deep trench for as far as the eye could see and put a bridge a few km up the road. I was a long way off the planned route but the direction was good and the guidebook warned of a number of similar tracks.

Man on ped with pushbike and drugs

I soon came to a fork in the road and was not sure which to take, so I stopped for a think and a drink. This was happening regularly. In the distance I could see someone approaching on a motorcycle, so I waited for them to arrive. Finally a little Berber man on a little air cooled bike with a large pushbike strapped to the back arrived. We shook hands and he asked me if I wanted Kif (dope). I politely refused and asked the way and he pointed me down the way I was not going to take because it took me further from the original piste, but I took the local advice. The piste was ok and a little later, I came across a government agency worker who sent me the same way.

This piste was 100km long and could take a long time at 25kph, so I stopped for lunch of day old flat bread and water at a sand dune of my choosing. I was conscious of not being in the sun for too long so I didn't make it a long break. I had plenty of water and my blood sugars were good so I kept at it.

And which sand dune would Sir like to sit at?

The piste eventually came across a deep sand filled oued, the type that might have given me nightmares the night before. I plunged in and was soon over, and again. I could get the bike going but couldn’t control it because my feet were on the ground. Worse than this, the piste began to follow the oued, not cross it. I would have to stop, walk 50 metres ahead to find the best ground and then give it a go, often dropping bike and having to pick her up again. I was burning energy and using water fast.

This isn't clever

After a particularly draining 50 metres or so I dropped Betty once again, she was overheating, and I'd like to go home now please. A beriberis bush (now I know where the name comes from!) offered some shade and I sat down to cool down and take a long drink. I was down to my last 2 litres and the next well was at least 20 kms away.

In the distance I could see a little building by the side of the river I had come from. If I could get to that then I could head back the way I had come and forget this stupid plan I had come up with. So standing on the ground I got Betty moving with plenty of revs, but thing were going well and the paddling was slowing me down. I jumped on the pegs, loosed my grip on the bars, pushed my weight back and Eureka, I was deep sand riding, the bars were going everywhere but maintaining my balance on the pegs and steering by weighting the pegs, I was suddenly making good progress. After 150 metres or so I fell off again. You don't learn the fiddle in a day!

Betty in her usual mode d'employe

I saw a blue clad figure walking from the little building towards me and I thought by the time he reached me, I will of stopped panting. We shook hands and he told me his name was Josep, obviously a proud Berber by his dress, which to be quite honest gave me robe and turban envy. I asked him if there was a piste from the building and if he would give me a push if needed. If ever I needed an audience to raise my game, I was out of the oued without putting a foot down.
Josep arrived a few minutes later shrugging his shoulders and laughing. I sat down with his family and we had tea together. Thankfully neither of us could speak Arabic, but we muddled through with French. This was their home where they pumped water from the riverbed. Where to I could not find out.

They said they saw very few tourists, especially people like me trying to ride an overlaiden bike down a sandy dry riverbed in the blazing sun. They did have a point. We returned to that one a lot so we could have a laugh. You don't get that on a tv script!

I insisted on giving them some money for the tea and their time, which they refused, but I carried on do they took it and I was happy. Off I went again, with a spring in my step and no oued after that caused me any fear. Sometimes I would drop Betty, other times I would loose my nerve and go back to paddling which quickly wore me out, but little by little, the kms dropped. I eventually reached the piste I had meant to of been following and was glad I had not followed it. It was worn out and heavily potholed. I soon met a Spanish Land Rover and Holad the occupants, only to find they were a couple of Americans. I gave some advice on the route ahead and had a bit of Land Rover envy, but then I remembered how often they broke down. Still, you saw very little else off road mobiles but Land Rovers in Maroc.

Back onto black top, it was like the end of a years drinking sabbatical, I filled my face with easy to ride on tarmac. I booked into a campsite to the south of Erfoud and pitched my tent under a canopy. Tomorrow I will find the problem with my fan, and if I have the time, will offload the luggage and give Betty a go on the dune sea of Erg Chebbi. Well, pick her up out of the sand after 2 minutes!