PART FOUR

Toy Story
by Toby Savage

Mid way through each season of work in Libya, David Mattingly, our boss, takes us on an excursion to see some feature of interest. This is our only true break from work and the backbreaking digging that the main team of Archaeologists have to do. In previous years we have been to visit the impressive rock art at Wadi Mattendous. A one kilometre long, south facing rock outcrop festooned with carvings of Elephants, Crocodiles and Giraffes that roamed the area thousands of years ago.

This year we were to take a trip into the Jebel Akakus. Jebel means mountains and the Akakus are well known as a feature of great beauty with exciting landscapes and abundant rock art to look at. With 25 team members to transport more vehicles were needed. The projects own 109 Land Rover Station Wagon was still spewing out oil so not a viable option.

We had been joined by Kevin White a Geographer from Reading University in his well equipped 1998 Camel Trophy 110. With that and my Carabungawagon we could take 8. The decision was made to charter three local drivers in Toyota Land Cruisers. The Toys are the preferred mode of transport for all the local desert guides. Their big, lazy 4.5 litre petrol engines make light work of the dunes being able to unleash a bucketful of torque, when us Landy owners are furiously shifting down gears.

Because of the distances involved it was to be an overnight trip so we all took our Jim jams and toothbrushes along with a sleeping bag and some blankets as it can drop to zero degrees at night during January and February. Quite where we were going to stay was known only to our guides.

We drove south towards Ghat and the Chad/Algerian border before the splendour of the mountains of the Akakaus started to loom up on our left. Mighty outcrops of rock rising near vertically out of the flat sand. Legends abound of travellers going missing in these mountains so we were pleased to have both guides and GPS systems as back up. After a break for lunch at Awaynat and a chance to refuel from huge cans at a farm (The petrol station had run dry) it was time to drop the tyre pressures and venture out into the desert, the guides picking a route through the towering mountains. The going was relatively easy with us all maintaining a steady 45 to 50 mph with the Toys out front and Kev and I just following in their trail. They knew the route and selected a safe piste, kindly keeping their speed to one we could maintain. It is absolutely vital that, despite any off road driving experience at home, we follow the experts. There is a world of difference between tackling some muddy track in Wales, where if you get stuck its a mobile phone call to a mate, and driving 50 or so miles from the nearest other person with no chance of a any communication. It’s good to follow the locals as we learn a lot about picking the best route across the sand. They have an uncanny knack of not getting stuck stemming from an ability to read the sand. I guess it comes from the 500, 000 kms of desert driving these guys expect to knock up in the lifetime of their Toys. They are at one with the desert. Us Europeans aren’t...... yet!

Our first Rock Art site reveals a vast selection of exquisite, red ochre, paintings depicting hunting scenes and domestic life 5,000 to 9,000 years ago. The detail is remarkable and cameras are working overtime to record it.

From here we continue deeper into the Akakus and become aware of the falling light levels and wonder where we are to camp. An absence of camping equipment is starting to worry a few of us. Camping out under the stars sounds romantic, but in reality is freezing and uncomfortable. As the sun sets we pull up at a rock outcrop on the edge of a plateau and our guides suggest we admire the dramatic sunset, which is indeed stunning. Long shadows dissolve into dusk and the air temperature drops suddenly prompting the donning of a jumper or two.

Headlights are left off as the guides lead the way into the gloom with the confidence of drivers who have done this often. To our amazement we round a rock into a natural, giant, horseshoe shaped arena complete with wooden huts and a generator. It is an Italian run camp and they are expecting us. The Italians run tours down here and have built this place to cater for their clients. It boasts a shower block and a restaurant as well as big camp fire and authentic Tureg folk music later in the evening. Having clocked up about 250 miles of desert driving in a day it is good to shower our weary bodies and relax over a meal before turning in ready for the 6.00 am start the next morning.

Our convoy of three Toys and two Land Rovers crept out of the camp before sunrise. So dark that, this time, headlights were a necessity to pierce the gloom. Heaters were on full to try and warm us up until the sun burst over the horizon to be greeted by a cheer. Onward we went to look at more scenery and rock art. The driving became more challenging as the guides assessed Kev and I’s ability. That competitive edge was starting to develop where we would try and egg the Toys on to take us over more dunes and down deeper gullies. Our guide knew the game and took us up increasingly difficult dunes knowing that our weedy 2.5 litre diesel engines were no match for their 4.5 petrols. Both Kev and I keep getting stuck due to lack of power. With a good run up we would hit the base of a big dune at about 50 mph and as the speed dropped off frantically down change...3rd....2nd....1st.. and with luck and fierce wiggling of the steering wheel, just get over the top to the applause of the rest of the group. Both of us have the GKN overdrive units fitted and being able to change quickly in and out of overdrive helped, but in the end there’s no substitute for cubes.

Knackered we returned to the road just as dusk reclaimed the desert and pumped up our tyres. 500 miles of desert driving in two days is a lot and it was a relief to have completed them without mishap. We could never have seen so much or driven so far without the guides who knocked up a good lunch as well. We did manage to get one over on them though. Their Toyotas had used two full tank fulls of petrol and eight jerry cans each. They looked on in amazement as we topped up our second tankful from just one of our jerry cans.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .