18 January – Kayes

KAYES - OUR ONLY STOP IN MALI

On the flight into Mali, as we got closer to the ground, below the hazy cloud, I saw things I haven’t seen for a long while. A river. I had to ask someone if it was indeed water, not something else. Trees. Proper tall trees, not the scrub bushes we’ve been seeing. Livestock. Fields. Not green fields, but fields anyway, ploughed and planted. Houses with pitched roofs. Not all of them, but a few.

Here at Kayes, there are also termite mounds. Which means 2 things… 1, there is wood…. 2, be careful where you pitch your tent!

There is also a toilet in the “terminal” building (€3 – and a bargain after not going for 2 days.) I shall investigate later, when – or if – the coffee has its effect.

Alessandro from Eurosport has just appeared. In clean clothes… Alessandro, are you clean?? Yes! Apparently, as well as the €3 toilets, which he investigated almost as we were still taxiing in, there are €3 showers! Double bubble… I shall have myself €6 of luxury in just a moment… Breakfast can wait!!!!!!!

AND MY MOBILE PHONE WORKS, TOO!

Now happy again, having almost forgotten the lovely 2CV which I missed out on yesterday.

Almost.

AAAAHHHHHHHHHH Bliss…. A large room, not exactly clean, with basin, toilet and shower. Water from a proper shower head, tepid, but enough to wash more than just face, pits and bits. Clean body, clean clothes. Out into the hgot dusty wind, with ash from what is obviously either e campaign to burn scrub close to the runway or just a bush-fire. Either way, my clean, white t-shirt wasn’t clean or white by the time I put it on. And my tan has completely gone, dowh the drain. I am now pasty and white once more…

But we’re all cleaner and smiling like loons.

Breakfast is over, it’s 11.45am and I am about to start work.

WHERE WE SIT ALL DAY LONG

Just to answer a question or two - the programme I do here is the 26-minute World Feed... basically, the pictures which come out of Dakar for the day, with commentary by yours truly...

Of the many broadcasters who take the feed, some use it as it is, with my voice (Versus in the USA, for example - they used to be OLN) and some use it, cut up, in news/sports programmes etc.

This year, Eurosport is using the pictures as part of a longer programme, with live interviews from the bivouac, every night. Carlton Kirby is voicing the taped parts and linking the live elements for the English audience (and I imagine that it's his voice that people are finding streamed on the web) and all over Europe, 19 others are doing exactly the same in their own languages...

WHERE I VOICE THE PROGRAMME - I SIT ON THE LEFT

So, there you go... Now you know as much about TV as me - but not quite as much as the average 12-year-old!

The runway and hard standing here are surrounded by small bushes and grass and someone has taken it uopn themselves to burn a lot of this quite recently. The trees are still standing, as is the grass, since surviving fire is obviously a way of life for them, but the end result is that instead of fesh fesh settling on anything, every time a plane or helicopter moves (and that seems to be VERY frequently today) a thin layer of ash covers everything. Which is nice…

Today’s stage is quite a short one and the bikes arrive around 1.45, with the first of the car drivers coming in at 3. Yet, there seems to be very little in the way of footage. Manu, the car editor is complaining that he has nothing to get started with and Jean-Philippe (Jonphi for short) also bemoans a sparsity of pictures. All fo which means that the programme will be very late coming together.

HOW WE SEND THE PICTURES TO YOU
The one thing which is shaping up, is a feature on family links. There’s a Danish businessman and his 20-year-old son, who are both racing in Bowler Wildcats – and still going well – and then there’s a French guy, with wild white hair, who looks like Pinocchio’s father, Guipetto! He must be 65 and his daughter, who is 19, is also on the Dakar.

Turns out she wanted to do something exciting on bikes, so he suggested that since the Dakar is the toughest event, she should start with that! He got a matching bike and came with her! He must have done some of this before, because she was saying in the piece about how she normally rides in front, except in the dunes, where he has more experience. He really looks like some mad professor / nutty grandfather…

With the mobile working, had a chat with Leah and Sam, who got so wet walking to playgroup, with his friend Molly and her mum, that Leah had to take him a change of clothes! Very bizarre to be in a t-shirt, in what feels like a hot summer’s day, yet back home it’s properly wet, cold and windy…

By the time the programme came to be voiced, very little was what you’d call ready. But we managed to get it up on the satellite on time, courtesy of some severe effort at the coal-face by the guys in the Hercules. It was certainly a rush for them though.

Afterwards, to mark the fact that tonight is our last in a tent (or the fact that it was Wednesday – or whatever day it actually was) there were drinks at the catering plane. Beer and nibbles and a call home to chat to Morgan, in the balmy warmth of an African winter’s night. Bliss.

Then off to the bivouac for dinner – chicken and chips, a French staple – and a quick barter with the stall-holders, who were selling beads, carvings etc. In fact, it was Adrian, the editor for Versus, who was bartering but he ended up buying nothing. I’ll wait until daylight in Dakar, I think…

Back to the tent for a relatively early night, as we’re on early-to-rise-late-to-bed regime again today…

17 January – Ayoun

ME, LOOKING GOOD !

MMMMMMM Nice. Ayoun is another militray airfield, only this time, as were much farther South than when we entered the country, it looks a little different…

There’s a little more vegetation (though all of it pretty bleached by the sun, even in mid-winter) with the odd tree and clump of grass dotted around and there’s not sand, more like brown dust. We have left the Sahara behind us and the earth reflects that. Instead of being 100% sand, there’s a distinct reddy-brown-ness to it.

Which doesn’t mean that it stays on the ground. Oh no… it is very dry and just as fine as the desert fesh fesah, sailing up into big clouds at the slightest provocation (an Antonov on full thrust, say, or a car or turck trundling past) and then filters down to cover everything in a nice even coating.

I have to dust my screen and keyboard literally every 5 minutes, or it feels like you’re typing on sand! The poor Mac is gooing to need a trip through the washing machine, or something, when I get home, just to clean it out…

Today is the final day of bidding on the groovy (or poo, depending on whether you’re me or Leah, Morgan and – the little traitor, I thought at least HE would be on my side on this one - Sam back home in England) 2CV that I spotted on eBay. It’s matt black and flames.

When I started bidding it was £200, now it’s rocketed up to over £400. Our budget is fixed at £777, so I have some leeway.

A PRIVATEER'S TRUNK - MESSAGES FROM HOME

Today, with no competitive stage, the editors had a different challenge. Not telling the story of the rally, with top 5 or 10 times etc etc etc but they decided that today’s programme would basically be 26 minutes behind the scenes. Looking at the differences between pro rider and totally unsupported amateur… the view on the stages from a rider’s helmet-cam… alll kinds of stories from behind the lead battle. In other words, the real Dakar for the majority of the field, who are not in the chase for the podium.

It promised to be tough work. Naturally, there’s miles of footage for the top runners, but they’re going to be digging much deeper for this show and that always means time… I have to confess, I was slightly worried that it’d be a nightmare…

Chatted to my honey on MSN (more technology conquered) but couldn’t get the Skype to work. Have just enough for one more 5-minute call, which I’m keeping just in case there’s no coverage for the mobile in Mali or Senegal. Later on, Oscar was online too. He was at his friend Tom’s house, on his PSP, as their broadband had gone down at home.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU NEED TO BACK A PLANE UP...

16 January – Still in Nema

WAKEY WAKEY - THE SUN HAS GOT HIS HAT ON

What a nice change, not to be woken by the Hercules at 5.45. Woke at 6 anyway, then rolled over and went back to sleep until 7. Then again till 7.30, at which time I thought a pee and a coffee would be nice.

Dressed, packed everything up and headed off for breakfast.

As seems to be the habit with the regulars from ASO, there had been a party in full swing when I returned from dinner the previous night. They take any opportunity, when they don’t have to get up and move the next morning. This time, I don’t think there were any Evel Kneivel-type mini-moto stunts involving atbles and benches, but who knows? I’d left them to it and crashed out, so they could have been dancing all night on the top of the Hercules, for all I know…

Now, two days later, I am struggling to think what happened in Nema. Not much different from normal, I seem to think…

Day spent following the race, as the competitors completed a (relatively) short stage out from Nema and back. The first bikes were in at about 1pm and so there was more time for programme-making than has been the case for the bulk of the past week.

Chatted to a few riders and got their thoughts on the stage, which is always useful. Most saw it as a little disappointing, especially as the two stages out to Timbuctu and back had been quite long and totally different from the Nema loop in nature.

WAITING TO WASH - AND STUFF

A day to just hold station for the front-runners, then, which always allows someone else a chance to shine. So we had a different winner in the bikes, for a change (although the Ltvian winner of the previous day’s stage was a first-time winner) and in the cars a first-time winner.

With just a short liaison to cover tomorrow, everyone was pretty relaxed, and I think that was somehow reflected in the Hercules. Everything ran pretty smoothly and we were all ready for the transmission, in time and sorted out. Couple of small technical glitches but no major worries.

Not sure whether we’re just getting more into the swing of it all a lot better but I’m not feeling QUITE so much pressure at the moment.

Again, wandered down to the extremely dusty bivouac for dinner, with an English guy called Adrian, who is working as the editor for the US network Versus, who are covering the rally. They are showing my programme every night in the States and there’s a 6-strong crew here shooting extra stuff for 4 documentary programmes that they’ll air later.

They’re really nice guys and great fun to have in our little tent, along with the guys from Micron, who are doing the on-board cameras on Robby Gordon’s Hummer. They have been up-loading films every night to YouTube and have so far managed to rack up something like 15,000 dollars-worth of internet use. Because it’s all done over a satellite connection, it costs a fortune but they still have a week to go, so the bill is going to climb, even if they upload less then they have been…

There’s a really good-natured banter going on all the time, which makes for a good working atmosphere and the guys in the plane are getting more used to having Sebastian and I about now, and are happy to run us through what they’ve got, even when they’re getting really busy – all of which makes out jobs more possible and more relaxed.

Tomorrow we leave, for Ayoun, our last port of call in Mauritania. Turning in early, as usual…

FATHER (65) AND DAUGHTER (19) - BOTH FIRST-TIME BIKERS... FRENCH, OF COURSE!

15 January - Nema – Day 1

TYPICAL MAURITANIAN SCENERY
We’re here in Nema, another military airfield, for two days. Everyone is making themselves at home, becuse not having to move in the morning makes day 2 a little easier – we get a lie-in, waking when we want, instead of at 5.45 when the Hercules starts its ground-power engine.

As usual this morning, we were woken by the four-engined alarm clock and by Thierry May, the ASO logistics manager, shaking everyone’s tents, telling them to hurry up, because they wanted to start the Hercules’ engines.

In a bit of a panic, as – like everyone else - I had camped on the down-wind side of the Herc, I dragged some clothes on and hurriedly packed my ruck-sack, rolling up my sleeping mat and jamming my sleeping bag etc into it as fast as I could.

Outside it was not windy, so getting my tent in its bag was no drama and I hiked off to the plane we move in.

As we waited about, loading the plane, the Herc and the 5 Antonovs (2 jet and 3 turbo-prop jobs) all taxied past, turned and then sped past to take off, each time covering us in a thick cloud of fesh fesh. By the time we boarded the plane (not our normal one but a smiliar one with a German crew) we were all coughing and nicely dusted with a brown crust.

The flight from Tichit to Nema was just an hour and we bumped down with no great dramas.

As usual, pulled bags off the plane and went to the Herc and catering plane to help with the unloading.

SEBASTIAN FROM EUROSPORT - YES, HE ALWAYS LOOKS LIKE THIS

Pitched tent in a concrete base for an oil tank, which lay alongide and showed no signs of ever being fitted to the base. It was level and had a low wall, so I thought it would be ideal. However,as we sat having breakfast, some locals sat on the wall watching us and I realised how vulnerable my stuff would be out there.

So I picked up my tent and moved across the airfield to where a load of other guys had camped, to set up home.

After setting up, I grabbed my towel and wash things and made the 15-minute hike to the showers and loos. The showers were again wooden cubicles in a row on a concrete footing, with a door, a mirror and a tray. But no roof. It was already quite hot, so the cool water and refreshing breeze were very nice…

Noticed that a lot of people seemed to becoming down in dirty clothes, showering and dressing in clean gear, leaving their old clothes in a big bag. So, later in the evening, when I went down to dinner, I stopped off to use the loo and dropped a big pile of my old t-shirts, pants and socks there as well. Hopefully, they will be of some use to someone.

After a load of technical problems the night before, things seemed to be a little more straight-forward in the Herc today and the programme was ready, almost glitch-free, with few dramas.

Three or four days ago was our worst in terms of getting the scripts done in time but now we’re working much better and everyone seemed happy.

Sad to say, Nema isn’t very Dakar. It’s just another airfield with loads of fine dust in the air – and we’re all-but out of the desert as well. When we head to our next port of call, on the border with Mali, we’ll have left the dunes behind and be heading into Senegal, with savannahs, trees, red-brown mud and the rush to Dakar. The classic Sahara-ness will have gone.

Someone asked me today whether I was feeling home-sick. I have to say that I will be very glad to get home and see everyone. And wash. And sleep in a bed. Past 5.45am. But I am getting into the swing of things now, it’s not a total headless-chicken nightmare (well, not EVERY day) and I’m enjoying myself. So, I don’t actively want to leave but I’ll be glad to get home.

Not sure whether or not that’s a yes or a no. But there you go.

Dinner was enlivened last night by the presence of one of my rallying heroes, Ari Vatanen. I was sitting with Sebastian and he wandered over with his tray and asked if we’d mind if he sat down in a space on the rugs next to us.

Of course not! He was very chatty and as nice as I’ve found him to be, on previous occasions when I’ve met him. When we were chatting he noticed a bunch of lads nearby, with Bowler logos on their clothes.

Excuse my ignorance, he said to them, but what’s a Bowler? They told him all about the cars and, as they were rally Brits, obviously knew all about his exploits in the UK and abroad. He stayed and chatted with us for a good hour, got the coffees in and was generally very good company.

His car had been totally destroyed in a fire the night before, so what now, I asked. Stay with the team to Dakar? No, he said, I’ll go home and go to Strasbourg (where he’s an MEP) on Monday…

It certainly made for a good night for all of us and Ari seemed glad to have a chat and some good-natured banter about some of his better-known exploits (crashes.) Top stuff.
AMATEUR BIKERS WORKING OUT OF ONE TINY TRUNK

14 January - Tichit

TICHIT - WIDE OPEN AND WINDY

Woken earlier than normal this morning, as we were camped under the wings of the Hercules and they started their on-board power at 5.30, waking everybody up. Then we had to quickly pack up our tents, so they wouldn't get blown away when they started the propellers...

Jammed everything in bags and stumbled over to the plane we fly in, feeling tired and smelly. The flight to Tichit was about an hour, and we flew over loads of dunes on our way in... There is no concrete or tarmac here, just hard-packed sand in a flat plateau... the planes raise tons of dust as they land, take-off and taxi.

Tichit is a former penal colony for political prisoners - with miles of desert in any direction, it's better than Alcatraz - you don't need guards or fences... off you go lads, run away... good luck... one less for breakfast, then...

It also has the oldest library in Africa, apparently, where they're restoring a 600-year-old copy of the Koran. Which is hard to conceive of here, almost totally cut off from the outside by the desert, and as wind-swept and desolate as you can imagine.

This is the most "Dakar" place we've been to so far. Palm trees and sand dunes visible through the heat haze. Not a military airfield, packed with soldiers and Kalazhnikovs.

FOR THE FIRST TIME IT'S HOT AND SUNNY

After the hectic pace of yesterday's "Rest Day", today is actually a much quieter day for us. There's no pictures of yesteday to be edited, so it's now 3.30 and we're still waiting for pictures to arrive, as the drivers and riders toil through almost 400 miles of burning sand dunes. The editors are sleeping in the shade of the planes and I've been wandering about filming little clips on my camera. to send home...

I'll try and post some more on YouTube...

The competitors have had a very long day, the first riders not arriving until well after 3, and only 8 cars had finished by the time our programme went on air. Footage arrived very late, so there was a very high degree of free-styling in both the commentary and the editing. Crashing a bare shot-list out took another 25 minutes or so and there were a few glitches in the broadcast. The inflatable tent in which we transmit started to collapse. Silently. So they turned on a generator to power a pump to blow it up - IN THE TENT !

I told them to turn it off. No, you can talk. No, I can't!

It got turned off. Most of the walky-talkies were off too. But not all. And the guys controlling the uplink keep talking to the Hercules on a talk-back device, which I can hear all the time through my headphones - so it must be going out with the transmission as well...

However, the good news is that I have found an excellent 2CV on eBay and hope that John will manage to get over and tie up the deal before the sale ends... Just in case, I have started bidding already, wirelessly, from the heart of nowhere, 200 miles from anywhere at all, in Mauritanian desert. The world is indeed a bizarre place.

This thing will need to be seen to be believed - it's just SO perfect for Marolw-Monaco, I couldn't believe it when I saw it... Just look at this baby.... MMMMMMMMMM

13 January - Rest day in Atar

ATAR - HOT AND SUNNY - AT LONG LAST
Even the Almighty needed a day of rest - and I bet he wasn't feeling hot and sweaty all the time...

Awoke this morning without the help of the alarm clock - at 8am... no need to move as we're not travelling today, so I had another 30 minutes before the need to water some desert forced me, blinking. into the bright sunshine... Not a breath of wind, warm, sunny... nice!

After dinner last night, I got back to the airfield at 12, to find a party in full swing... loads of the French staff, caterers, editors, security, medical - everyone, basically - swigging beer, wine, spirits, with loud music, under African starry skies...

Joined in for a beer or two, then flopped in my tent at 1, closing my eyes with Bob Marley wafting across the warm air... Bliss...

Today has started with a leisurely breakfast in the sunshine, with a very old friend, Allard Kalff, and his fellow Dutchies from RTL... lots of joking and reminiscences about the old days...

Now about to start my scripting for the first part of the weekly programme, which I'll voice this morning - the rest tomorrow - then get on with whatever it is that we're going to put into the 26-minute daily show... It'll be an artily-edited retelling of week 1, so I expect it to be good-looking but a nightmare to script...

Much as expected, the day was a blur... Started well enough, checking out the images Manu had for the Weekly programme, finalising the script, barring the last 4 minutes...

thought I'd have lunch - oh no, wait, it's 1.30 and I have to voice at 2.00 - in between times I need to finish the script...

So, no lunch, because as soon as the voice was finished at 3, it was time to focus on the daily highights...

Any thought of making a half-hour trip to the facilities for a shower and to answer the course of nature had to be put on hold, until night-time.

Much as expected, the programme came together VERY late.... VERY VERY late...

MAURITANIA - SPOT THE TREE

Sebastian and I were flat out, trying to keep up with everything, as the editors cut and pasted furiously... every one a work of art. But, like the Sistine Chapel, delivered late...

Somehow, we voiced the programme and managed to crash out some sort of basic script in 20 minutes... So everyone is happy... except anyone trying to commentate from the script, that is...

After the main programme was finished I went baqck into the Hercules and sat down with Manu, watched the final images, voiced them and typed them up... Script delivered BEFORE the programme was fed to the satellite... Hooray... everyone happy...

Gael's mobile won't be ringing... he won't be getting nasty emails and he, Christophe and I will be happy... and shattered...

So, on the menu for tonight is to venture down to the bivouac (which is obscured by a permanent dust cloud... remember Pig Pen in the Charlie Brown strips? Like him, only 10,000 times dustier...) and eat...

Mmmm, wonder what they'll be serving with the dust?

I'll try some pics and then clear off to attend to my ablutions...

Night all...

THE BIVOUAC - DUSTY, HUH?

12 January - Apparently, it's Friday... Really??

OUR TRANSPORT

Well...

...and this came as somewhat of a surprise...

it's Friday today. Which means 2 things... first, I am 2 days late starting my next week of malaria tablets... and, second... I don't know what the second thing is.

Woke up this morning after a good night's sleep, feeling great and wondered as I crawled out of my tent and wondered why I was the only one awake... Trudged over to our plane. still no-one. Dropped my bags and wandereed back in the dark to the catering plane, which has the movemenmt schedules on it... ah - departure an hour later today...

So, I helped with lots of loading, being alert, awake and cheerful. Had 2 coffees even before the flight and landed in Atar (oh boy, what a place) in a great mood. even the wind and dust couldn't damped my enthusiasm.

Then the day slowly hit the skids, the porogramme running away downhill just faster than I could chase it...

IN THE DINNER QUEUE

Anyway, Atar is even more fly-blown then yesterday (wherever in the hell THAT was, I forget now!) and full of armed people keeping us off everywhere, while allowing locals in to sell us cheap cigarettes, change money and who knows what else...

As the wind dropped, the dust just settled evenly and consistently on everything and the flies arrived. Super!

It's only about a mile past the bivouac to the toilet and shower cubicles, so everything has to be planned well in advance. But a Portuguese journalist said the water (in the showers - I hope... didn't think to ask) was so hot he burned his hand! It's in huge bladders on the ground, so the sun is obviously heating it well. Not that I'd know, as I have sat in my tent (big blue work-tent, not little red sleep-tent) all day, only moving to go into the hercules to be told that nothing's ready. They were still editing yesterday's footage at 5pm tonight for out 6.15 broadcast. Why???

"Because they can" seems to be the only answer I can come up with...

What else... well, it was extremely dusty in the bivouac last night, so I did indeed have some dinner with my dust. Tonight make last night look like the clearest night you ever saw, so it'll be double helpings of fesh fesh and some food under it. All the rece and service trucks are sure stirring it up. And now the wind's almost dropped.

I will come home white. Today it was mostly cloudy again. Maybe it will be sunny somewhere! Everyone relates how much it rained here two years ago. And we're here until we move again, on Sunday morning, so there's still a chance.

BIKERS CRASHED OUT AMID THE DINERS IN THE BIVOUAC

Tomorrow is the Rest Day, when the riders, especially, just die and try to recharge their batteries, as well as fix up the kit, so it might survive the next 7 days rush towards Dakar. We're half way through, as far as numbers of stages goes, but little over one-third of the distance has passed... A long way to go still.

Spent a few surreal minutes standing in the open air, calling home on a payphone. Not good news, as the doctors say that Leah is still not allowed to drive, though she is allowed to fly... so if a whispered deal to do the Bobsleigh World Championship in St Moritz comes off, we'll be off for a few days getting cold in the mountains...

Morgan and Sam are at great ages to have a few days skiing, even though I have never tried and Leah currently couldn't but even if we just get up and go in the cable cars to the pistes and loaf about, it'll be a real change. I couldn't believe it the first time I went and I bet they'd be blown away.

Morgan has spent several weekends recently riding friends' ponies and fell in love with one but this weekend Sam has 2 parties (oh, the social life of the under-5s) so they'll likely be at home and not on the road this time.

Well, now almost 11pm, very dark and dusty, so it's time to go and eat, they hit the hay. Or rock-strewn gravel, as it is...

Pictures won't post for some reason, so I'm giving up and I'll do them tomorrow.

I know you'll all be just thrilled...

ME - BEING AWAKE BUT NOT LOOKING IT

Hmm, so it did post yesterday, although it told me it didn't... ah well, that'll teach me to trust technology... here are the pics anyhow...

Hi to you all, especially Leah, Oscar, Morgan and Sam...

12 January - Apparently, it's Friday... Really??

Well...

and this came as somewhat of a surprise... it's Friday today. Which means 2 things... first, I am 2 days late starting my next week of malaria tablets... and, second... I don't know what the second thing is.

Woke up this morning after a good night's sleep, feeling great and wondered as I crawled out of my tent and wondered why I was the only one awake... Trudged over to our plane. still no-one. Dropped my bags and wandereed back in the dark to the catering plane, which has the movemenmt schedules on it... ah - departure an hour later today...

So, I helped with lots of loading, being alert, awake and cheerful. Had 2 coffees even before the flight and landed in Atar (oh boy, what a place) in a great mood. even the wind and dust couldn't damped my enthusiasm.

Then the day slowly hit the skids, the porogramme running away downhill just faster than I could chase it...

Anyway, Atar is even more fly-blown then yesterday (wherever in the hell THAT was, I forget now!) and full of armed people keeping us off everywhere, while allowing locals in to sell us cheap cigarettes, change money and who knows what else...

As the wind dropped, the dust just settled evenly and consistently on everything and the flies arrived. Super!

It's only about a mile past the bivouac to the toilet and shower cubicles, so everything has to be planned well in advance. But a Portuguese journalist said the water (in the showers - I hope... didn't think to ask) was so hot he burned his hand! It's in huge bladders on the ground, so the sun is obviously heating it well. Not that I'd know, as I have sat in my tent (big blue work-tent, not little red sleep-tent) all day, only moving to go into the hercules to be told that nothing's ready. They were still editing yesterday's footage at 5pm tonight for out 6.15 broadcast. Why???

"Because they can" seems to be the only answer I can come up with...

What else... well, it was extremely dusty in the bivouac last night, so I did indeed have some dinner with my dust. Tonight make last night look like the clearest night you ever saw, so it'll be double helpings of fesh fesh and some food under it. All the rece and service trucks are sure stirring it up. And now the wind's almost dropped.

I will come home white. Today it was mostly cloudy again. Maybe it will be sunny somewhere! Everyone relates how much it rained here two years ago. And we're here until we move again, on Sunday morning, so there's still a chance.

Tomorrow is the Rest Day, when the riders, especially, just die and try to recharge their batteries, as well as fix up the kit, so it might survive the next 7 days rush towards Dakar. We're half way through, as far as numbers of stages goes, but little over one-third of the distance has passed... A long way to go still.

Spent a few surreal minutes standing in the open air, calling home on a payphone. Not good news, as the doctors say that Leah is still not allowed to drive, though she is allowed to fly... so if a whispered deal to do the Bobsleigh World Championship in St Moritz comes off, we'll be off for a few days getting cold in the mountains...

Morgan and Sam are at great ages to have a few days skiing, even though I have never tried and Leah currently couldn't but even if we just get up and go in the cable cars to the pistes and loaf about, it'll be a real change. I couldn't believe it the first time I went and I bet they'd be blown away.

Morgan has spent several weekends recently riding friends' ponies and fell in love with one but this weekend Sam has 2 parties (oh, the social life of the under-5s) so they'll likely be at home and not on the road this time.

Well, now almost 11pm, very dark and dusty, so it's time to go and eat, they hit the hay. Or rock-strewn gravel, as it is...

Pictures won't post for some reason, so I'm giving up and I'll do them tomorrow.

I know you'll all be just thrilled...

11 January - Mauritania - It's dusty, dusty... very, very dusty... it's very dusty

Mauritania - it's dusty alright

What a night!

After finishing the programme I went into the bivouac, to have dinner and then take a look around. Steak and mashed potatoes, with pepper sauce - for the first time all event, a meal Leah might just eat some of... Apart from breakfast, that is...

Caught up with the guys from Micron, who are putting on-board cameras in Robby Gordon's Hummer and posting loads of stuff on Robby's website and videos on YouTube - go and have a look, there's some great footage! Robby had been filmed during the day speeding along some extremely fast tracks, catching other cars and pushing them until they pulled over...

He'd been VERY quick, ideal Hummer territoru because a lot of the stage was flat fast and wide f***ing open, as NASCAR drivers love to say. But the race stewards took a bit of a dim view of his tactics and summoned him for a chat.

My German Eurosport colleague Sebastian asked him if they'd given him a "Yellow Card"

"Is that the one where they tell you, if you do it again, you're out?"

"That's right."

"Yeah - that's the one... they gave me a good slap on the wrist..."

Tried to find the guys from the Peterson / White Lightning team, who I know as a Porsche race team from ALMS days, Le Mans, Sebring etc. They've now won all big three endurance classics, Le Mans, Sebring and the Daytona 24 but I knew that Mike Peterson and Dale White had started in desert racing in the States.

Turns out they've won the Baja 500 and 1000 races, and they figured Dakar is their next big challenge. So they've got a buggy, painted exactly like their racing Porsches and are having a great run. They'd gone to bed but the French mechanics from SMG, whose buggy they've rented, were changing the gearbox, as the dust and wind blew up.

Ronn Bailey (of the monster Corvette-engined yellow buggy) had also turned in but the car is still going and I bet he had a hell of a time on the fast stage, as well...

Anyway, my little tent called, so I headed back.

Hercules flight desk - for Ness

After being woken up by the cold for the past couple of nights, when I went to bed it was good to be dressed in just t-shirt and joggers and to be feeling warm. Even the wind flapping the tent didn't worry me too much and I flaked out.

Woke up at 4am, with the tent blowing like billy-o but as there was me and two heavy bags inside, I figured it wasn't going anywhere and went back to sleep.

When the alarm went off, I turned on my light to find everything, including me, covered in an even brown layer. This is fesh fesh, sand as fine as flour, which blows into your tent (and everything else.) It was also howling a gale, so I got dressed, went through the packing-up rituals and crawled out of my tent.

To collapse the tent, you have to empty it. Of the only things now stopping it blowing away. So I hauled my bags out, standing on the windward edge, as it tried to lift me off with it. Then, somehow, I managed to fold it up and jam it into its bag, in howling wind, in record time.

Naturally, I had looked at my goggles the previous night, as I repacked my bag for the plane, and thought that the weather was so nice, there was no way I'd need them... so I had to squint a lot until we finally boarded the plane to Zouerat.

Which is very different from Tan Tan. Mauritania is not a rich country and it is a step down in comfort from Tan Tan but the people were very friendly, offering constantly to sell you 200 Marlboro and who knows what else...

Waiting in the hangar (liberal use of the term - corrugated open shed in which you could put a plane, if anyone had one) it transpired that the lad in his mid-20s, who was looking after them with his mother, had been to college in Leeds, spoke good English and had also lived in Paris for a couple of years, so he got on very well with the French guys too.

Zouerat is an iron-ore mining town, with all the glamour that description conveys - after Leeds it must seem like paradise!

Mmmmm attractive look

It's been blowing on and off all day, so again, everything is dusted nicely with fesh fesh and the goggles are now round my neck, ready for use, like Rommel. Only less distinctive-looking, I suspect. They're big and purple, for a start and I suspect the old Desert Fox would rather have been shot than be seen in something like these...

Anyway, today's stage was very long and very fast. Robby Gordon won it, by 17 seconds from Jean Louis Schlesser's buggy, after just under 400 timed kilometres.

Before they got to the start, they all had to drive/ride from Tan Tan, across the Morocco/Mauritania border and to the start... a mere 450km liaison. Half tarmac, half dirt road. Blowing a gale as the first riders left at 3.30, it soon turned from a dust storm - where they were forced to slow down to 40kmh, because visibility was so poor - into a rain storm, which flooded the road and turned the dirt into a quagmire. Everyone arrived at the start caked in mud. And I thought MY morning was a bad one...

We didn't arrive here until after 11am, after a long and very bumpy flight - like being in the back of a truck on a very bumpy road, except without the comforting thought that you were only a foot or two off the ground... The day started late and, of course, that meant that the editors were still changing the programme while I was on air... taking stuff out and adding the trucks, which hadn't even arrived as I started at 6.15 but were in by 6.40.

After more conversations this morning about the scripts and how I have to get them out within half an hour fo the end of the feed, we hit on a new plan. As I was voicing, Alessandro and Sebastian were in the plane and the moment I had finished a section, they were running through it on the computers, noting the timings of each section...

As a result, and under much pressure, we finished transmitting at 655 (after another couple of technical problems) and the script was completed (Truck sectgion written, all the changes in bikes and cars made) by 7.15.

But it took three of us to do it, so how just one is expected to do it, I don't know. We also spent half the day just focusing on the script. Now the Eurosport guys have gone to the bivouac, to find people to interview live for their evening show - so they're going to be really pooped and looking forward to another windy night's sleep...

I did speak to Gael, my boss, this morning and he admitted that because of the digital equipment they're using for the first time this year, the editors are making changes way after they used to, as they don't have to dump it from tape to tape, just make changes on a computer. The play-out is then also taken from a computer, so they can change any file, apart from the one we're actually using... so today, riders disappeared from the bikes and drivers from the cars section, to make room for a minute and a half of very late-arriving trucks. which is fine and I can commentate round that...

But writing it all down afterwards does take time.

Now we seem to have come up with a system to deal with it, I expect the editors will work even later.

Tomorrow, I also have to do the first half of the "weekly" - a round-up of the stages so far, which Manu the car editor has been putting together each day before the car pics arrive.

I imagine someone will want a script for that as well.

Oh joy!

Ah well, I'm going to put my goggles and head-scarf on now and off to eat some dust. Hope there's some food under it all...

More pictures posted on Photobucket (follow the link on the left) and trying to get some flaky videos on YouTube... I need a 10-year-old to talkl me through the technology, though...

10 January - Out of Morocco

Phone home... and you can!

What a difference a day makes...

After the freezing cold night in Er Rachidia, we dropped down out of the Atlas Mountains and close to the sea this morning in Tan Tan (Plage Blanche - white beach in English, although on the way in it became apparent that the beach goes about 50 miles inland!), with the change in altitude, a distinct change of temperature. Summer has arrived.

Not an African summer, more like a hot English day - sunny, just in the 70s probably, with no cloud... After days of fleeces, jackets and gloves, it was t-shirts and sunscreen.

There were even showers. Open-air concrete cubicles with a curtain in the doorway - good fun in the breeze - and not-quite freezing water... bracing but managed to get clean, straight after breakfast and visited the airport building to use the toilets. Working, after a fashion, and with a seat, door and everything...

When we arrived, I was astonished to see a huge line of motorhomes against the airport fence. I asked one of the old hands what they were doing here - surely there couldn't be that many wealthy Moroccans on their holidays in one place... in fact, it turns out it's a bunch of elderly, retired French and Germans, who spend their winter months pottering about Morocco in their motorhomes and evey time the rally comes to Tan Tan (last time was 3 years ago) they all congregate to watch the spectacle. There were almost 1000 of them, by all accounts and there certainly seemed to be more retired French holidaymakers than in any Normandy sea-side resort in summer - and that's saying something...

During the day, the breeze picked up a little and by the evening it was quite blowy... In fact, sleeping was disturbed by the whole tent continually flapping like it was about to take off, rather than the cold. It was warm enough to sleep in just a t-shirt and joggers, rather than the 4 layers of clothes for the previous night. Bliss!

Just for Sam, here's a picture of Daddy's tent, with Desert Rat Daddy inside...

10 January - Out of Morocco

What a difference a day makes...

After the freezing cold night in Er Rachidia, we dropped down out of the Atlas Mountains and close to the sea this morning in Tan Tan (Plage Blanche - white beach in English, although on the way in it became apparent that the beach goes about 50 miles inland!), with the change in altitude, a distinct change of temperature. Summer has arrived.

Not an African summer, more like a hot English day - sunny, just in the 70s probably, with no cloud... After days of fleeces, jackets and gloves, it was t-shirts and sunscreen.

There were even showers. Open-air concrete cubicles with a curtain in the doorway - good fun in the breeze - and not-quite freezing water... bracing but managed to get clean, straight after breakfast and visited the airport building to use the toilets. Working, after a fashion, and with a seat, door and everything...

When we arrived, I was astonished to see a huge line of motorhomes against the airport fence. I asked one of the old hands what they were doing here - surely there couldn't be that many wealthy Moroccans on their holidays in one place... in fact, it turns out it's a bunch of elderly, retired French and Germans, who spend their winter months pottering about Morocco in their motorhomes and evey time the rally comes to Tan Tan (last time was 3 years ago) they all congregate to watch the spectacle. There were almost 1000 of them, by all accounts and there certainly seemed to be more retired French holidaymakers than in any Normandy sea-side resort in summer - and that's saying something...

During the day, the breeze picked up a little and by the evening it was quite blowy... In fact, sleeping was disturbed by the whole tent continually flapping like it was about to take off, rather than the cold. It was warm enough to sleep in just a t-shirt and joggers, rather than the 4 layers of clothes for the previous night. Bliss!

Just for Sam, here's a picture of daddy's tent, with Desert Rat Daddy inside...

9 January – Moroccan mountains

It was cold last night in my little tent. Woken up by the cold several times, so it was almost a relief when the Hercules started its on-board power, to begin loading and the jet whine cut throught the icy dark.

Discovered that my sleeping bag is like being wrapped in clingfilm, it’s so tight… So I unzipped it and used it as a duvet, my thick self-inflating ground mat keeping the cold tarmac at bay nicely. That was money well spent, even though we only have three really cold nights in Morocco…

Still dark as we stood huddled waiting to get onto our plane for the trip to the next bivouac and the crew tried to jam tents and sleeping detritus for the 59 passengers into a tiny baggage compartment.

The flight was just over an hour and gave us another good view of the snow-topped Atlas mountains – unusually snowy, regulars reckoned. And with Ouarzazate being about 500m higher than Er Rachidia, it’d be colder overnight… Oh goody!

Landed and began the process of re-assembly. As we grabbed our tents and bags, then tried to find a spot on the ground without too many stones, the sun felt alittle warmer. Our clothes go in another plane, so we trekked across to find those, then assembled our little homes, like an army of snails, finding their shells.

Breakfast arrived at around 9, and I managed to find a spot in the sun to help the coffee warm me up. Learned from a very old friend, Dutchman Allard Kalff, that there were very good showers in the bivouac, so trekked over there with a group of guys and, sure enough, there was hot running water and proper toilets, with seats, water and everything! Most impressed!

Clean and refreshed, I treated myself to clean clothes as well. Trousers, t-shirt, pants, socks – the lot… still in the same boots, which have an aroma of their own now, but I felt a whole lot better and smelled nicer too.

Began the process of working on the programme again. Still haven’t quite got into a rhythm with this… Seem to spend most of the day waiting for the stage to finish, so we have some idea of who is where and what to feature, popping into the Hercules regularly to see the two editors, JP (bikes) and Manu (cars) only to be told they don’t have much yet, then 30 minutes before transmission, the programme is coming together and the longest two elements, the bike and car reports, are still changing, with new pictures arriving from the stages, plus interviews, all being crammed in at the last moment.

So far, I have managed to have something to say for all the parts of the show but there have been some surprises… yesterday a lengthy section of onboard, where a Belgian talked to his camera, explaining how the crash we’d just seen happened. I knew the crash was in but not the onboard… So I may not have accurately translated the whole piece… but it was probably close.

At the moment, I don’t really know who does what and I don’t have a real grip on the way life happens in the bivouac. I still need to ask somebody everything. Problem is, after Toby has done the job for 5 years, several ASO people have already told me that they forget that I know nothing and just assume I have everything I need.

One aspect I need to get sorted out is the script of the programme. Immediately I have finished voicing the transmission, someone wants a complete script to send to the broadcasters. I had to point out last night, that the trucks section was being edited as I was voicing the first half of the programme and I didn’t even know in advance what would be in it, so I could hardly have a script ready immediately afterwards. And, although the editors are telling me running orders, they don’t tell me how long they’re spending on each competitor. So I then have to sit down with a tape of the programme and put timings of the shots into my script. Which takes about an hour.

Everybody seems to think that the script should be done well in advance, even though the editing continues right up until – and during – my transmission time.

I’ll have to ask Toby how he managed that minor miracle…

Wandered into the competitors’ bivouac afterwards, which is where everyone eats and sleeps, as well as where the vehicles get serviced. It wasn't snowing, the camera's flash just picked up all the dust hanging in the air...

It was quite empty, as the bikes weren’t there. They were in a separate bivouac, where there were no service crews, trucks, nothing – not even spare tyres… they had to prepare their own bikes with whatever tools they carry. So if you had somehow managed to struggle out of the 405-kilometre stage with a flat tyre, you had the prospect of still having a flat tyre when you set off tomorrow morning, with 325-kilometres of timed stage (over two mountain passes on fast gravel roads, then descending onto the plain and meeting the first of the dunes, as you skirt the Algerian border) and then a further 280km of road (first half tarmac, second half unmade) before the safety and assistance of the bivouac.

Tragically, a biker died in a crash on today's stage. Elmer Symons was 29, a South African who lived in the States. He'd done the previous two Dakars with a service team to learn about it while he raised the money to compete himself and this year was his first time as a competitor... It seems he crashed in a high-speed section and a rider who had already stopped because he was first on the scene of another serious, but not fatal, crash was first to come across him. Rescue choppers arrived within 8 minutes of his emergency beacon being activated but apparently there was nothing that could be done. When the doctors arrived 2 minutes later they pronounced him dead. I imagine that the mood among the bikers last night was pretty sombre.

Had some food and then crashed out in the tent at about 11, wearing two fleeces and my coat, with some joggers over my combats. Still cold but slept until the Hercules alarm clock…

Remembered, just as I was about to get under the sleeping bag, that I needed to leave my clothes bag by a cargo plane… stumbled about in the dark looking for the correct plane, couldn’t find it, so dumped my bag with a pile of other bags by the Herc… Not the right pile but it will still get to Tan Tan… Hopefully…

The 2CV featured once more in tonight’s programme… but it'll be for the last time, as Georges Marques retired before the end of today's stage... 2 years ago he retired on Stage 5, this year he won't start it...

8 January - Bonjour and Salaam, Morocco

Pre-dawn starts are probably going to be the form for the rest of the event, so why not get up at 4.30 to leave Portugal?

Any number of reasons, really but as I needed to make the coach, leaving for the airport at 5.15, I had no option but to answer the call of the alarm and jump in my last hot shower for 2 weeks...

Making sure I enjoyed it as much as you can in the middle of the night, I packed up and we grabbed a quick coffee before heading to the airport.

Our flight was on some twin-engined turbo-prop, which I think we'll be on every day until Dakar. Very small, very cramped but not a bad flight at all... Lots of clouyd over Spain and the Med, cleared as we crossed over into Morocco, which was instantly recognisable, because everything was the same shade of brown! Hills, valleys, fields, houses, everything... Very different from Europe.

We landed outside a small town called Er Rachidia. The airport here was built by a rich arab who likes to go hunting nearby. Thing is, he always travels in 2 Jumbo jets (as you do!) and so it's a huge long runway, with a big parking apron... Airport facilities extend to a two-storey control tower - almost literally one-up, one-down - and an arrivals / departures building which has two rooms roughly the size of a small house and an office and desk for the customs official. If he turns up.

7 or 8 planes were already here, with the digital editing stations set up inside a Hercules and various other Soviet planes transporting food, catering equipment, all the computer network stuff, broadcasting gear, including huge satellite uplink dishes, generators to power it all and everyone's bags tents sleeping bags etc.

First job was to set up the tent, then get breakfast.

Spent my day running about trying to figure everything out. Like, where I could find somewhere to work. Who I could collar to get my computer logged onto the wireless network, so I have internet access. who is editing various parts of the programmes. What's going to be in the show. Where there is a toilet (the airport "terminal" in fact. Last day with flushing toilets (that had seats!) and loo-paper. Holes in ground will have to sufice from now on... All sorts of things that no-one thinks to tell me because they're so used to Toby (who did this for 5 years) and the fact that he knew what was what...

After being freezing at 9am when we arrived, by noon it was well up in the 70s, with very bright sunlight. We're quite high above sea-level here, surrounded by mountains (snow-capped, much to the vertans' surprise) but it was still shirt-sleeve weather. By about 4, the fleeces were backon and by 6, it was coats and (if I hadn't been typing) gloves weather. It was -12degC overnight here last year apparently and they reckon it'll be colder again... Like going skiing and then sleeping outdoors!! Nice. Having not even opened my sleeping bag, I hope it's warm! I shall be sleeping in all my clothes, just taking my boots off, I reckon...

So, anyway, after a huge panic to get everything in at least some sort of order by 6.15 (my deadline for the transmission) I went to the tent where I sit at a trestle table and voice the programme, to find that there was an audience of some 20-25 people watching the pictures. I haven't had that many people in the back of the booth before but - despite the crowd and some interesting moments when foreign interviews and unexpected pictures appeared with no warning - I busked through it. Anyone who speaks French will know I was just making it up for one long interview...

I was approached in the press tent this afternoon by a chap in round shades and a bandana. I thought he might have wanted to know where there was a rave but no, he was from the BBC and wanted information on where and when tomorrow's stage was. Not knowing where TODAY's stage was, never mind tomorrow's, I pointed him in the direction of media rep "Caro" and she produced a book with times and maps.

He'd said that they were here for 2 days to do some filming, so I thought they might be doing something on the rally, on location and covering it from home.

Imagine my surprise, the, when I saw him 20 minutes later with an equally laid-back cameraman doing his best whooshy MTV-type shots, panning round the planes and assorted chaos of the bivouac, with a sound man in tow... and two large blokes in biker jackets. I recognised them immediately - the Two Hairy Bikers! They're the Geordie and the toher one, who go round the world finding wierd and wonderful locations to cook local food their own way. Thai temples, Vietnamese villages, that sort of thing.

Looks like they'll be rustling up some couscous tomorrow as cars, bikes and trucks flash by. Hope they like the taste of dust!! And the cold... tomorrow's stage is WAY up in the Atlas Mountiains, with all the snow...

Right. It's already 8.30. I need to eat and the food is over in the main bivouac, where all the competitors and the huge number of mechanics all eat. So I need to get over there and scoff, before huddling and shivering until first light (or earlier) when we will, no doubt, be very relieved to pack up our posessions and get on the plane again to move on.

More tomorrow then...

Just a quick update, as I'm sure many of you didn't sleep well last night not knowing... Georges Marques and his fabulous 2CV are still in the rally! 172 on yesterday's stage (out of 173 - they weren't last and came in an hour before the last finisher) they lie 165th overall, out of 173 still running. Bravo!

The 4th stage, 450kms of rough, rocks tracks and the first small dunes, precedes a 178km drive to service, food and sleep. It's going to be a tough one but fingers crossed for the maddest car in the event...

January 7 - Goodbye Portugal

Having arrived in Faro, on the Algarve after 11pm, after a long, very foggy coach trip, I joined the 40-strong check-in queue and headed to my room.

Apparently there was still somewhere open to eat – I flopped, too tired to care!

Immediately, of course, the alarm rang and it was breakfast time, before our 7.30 getaway – again on the coach, for Portimao, an hour or so away…

This time it was clear and sunny and the yummy mummy golfers were already up and about, so we were not alone. I imagine they’ll still be tucked up at 5.15 when we check out tomorrow.

Today’s venue was a municipal sports hall, half for the “meeja”, half for the telly. That half, behind a partition, had food at lunchtime! I opted for a spot on a table right beside a patio-heater, as it was again freezing.

By lunchtime, we were in shirt-sleeves (in my XL t-shirts that look like a Medium on me…) but now it’s 7pm and the fleeces and jackets are back on.

Today’s manic rush towards the 6.15pm deadline was a fraction more organised (on my side – the editors were in control all along, as before) and this time the uplink van was literally on the doorstep, so no panics in traffic jams.

Everything went on the bird (as we broadcasting pros say) as it should have and I only made a couple of factual errors and stumbled over a few words. Better than yesterday, itself better than the first day.

By the end of this I might actually sound OK !!!

Little else to relate, othe than an American competitor, Ronn Bailey from Las Vegas, crashed his Le Mans Corvette-engined buggy on the motorway near the Spanish border, swerving to avoid a very slow-moving local, who changed lanes without looking. Eye-witness reports from a petrol station, beside which it happened, reckon the buggy rolled 5 times.

These things are phenomally strong – Ronn told me that 47 days before the start, he’d crashed the cart over a 70-foot cliff, it had caught fire on the way down and basically destryoed the bodywork in the fire. His team rebuilt the car around the same frame, fitted all new engine, transmission, suspension etcetera and came to the Dakar.

This is what it looked like on Thursday, with a Phoenix logo proudly applied by the mechanics. The Phoenix, of course, famously rises from the ashes, stronger than before. His real problem now isn’t that the car won’t be drivable but that the only bodywork they have has been largely destroyed. Latest news is that after 2 hours working on the machine, he and his co-driver (both thankfully unharmed, as was the dullard who triggered the whole accident) have headed off for Malaga, to take the boat for Morocco.

Such is the Dakar.

As Ari Vatanen also found, drowning out his VW in a river! Almost out of the Dakar because of something they won’t encounter again – water!

We’re all trying to clear out now and get an early night, as we fly to Africa at 6am.

I have managed to post all my photos so far… here’s the link: http://photobucket.com/
Username: dakar2007
Password: dakar2007

Enjoy!

6 January - Et voila... c'est parti

The first day of the Dakar has finally arrived, with another pre-dawn start, in the icy fog of Lisbon.

Huge crowds nonetheless, none of which I’ve seen, except on tape, as we moved out of our hotel at 7.30 this morning and headed towards the end of the first stage, near Portimao on the Algarve.

No golf for me though, as our destination was a converted winery (Adega) which has been (almost) transformed into some nice office spaces.

One was designated as the press Office, with plastic tables and chairs on the bare concrete floor. Next door was the TV edit room. More plastic tables and chairs and here, a dozen editing stations, busily putting together pictures not only for the World Feed 26-minute programme but also for reports for many other stations, ranging from France Television to Al Jazeera, via North and South America, Japan, China and all points west. Some journos are actually voicing their pieces into the editing machines as well...

Now that the first day of action is upon us, Eurosport’s first-time on this event, called Sebastian, and I have almost worked out a working pattern, whereby I organise and write much of the script, which serves both for the World Feed programme and all the stationjs that take it, and also for Eurosport’s own programme, which contains the same images but will also have live additions from the desert. Sebastian, meanwhile is at the end of the stage, getting interviews with Alessandro – another Eurosport staffer but now on his 4th Dakar and, like me, working for ASO – collars more likely faces with another camera.

Between the two of them and Adelaide, the producer from Eurosport, we hash out the interviews, and they keep me up to speed with the running order, what is in, what pictures we will see and so on.

That’s the theory, in any case and it seemed to work tonight.

At 5.45 I was handed a tape, jumped in a waiting van and drove through the crowds to the end of the stage. Then we hiked a mile or so into the stage, through the soft sand, to a clearing where the uplink truck was parked.

A white-van-man’s dream, with a huge satellite dish on the roof, tapes played from here are beamed straight up at a satellite and from there re-dirceted acround the world. Either that, or there’s a long piece of string and some cocoa tins that I couldn’t see in the dark!

I voiced the programme, sitting in front of a 4-inch monitor in the van, with the generator roaring underneath us. Amazingly, the microphone seemed only to pick up my voice and not the genny, nor the sliding door beside me opening in mid-flow, as the second half of the programme was delivered!

I had not seen the images of the trucks section and the running order of who I might see varied from the phonecall I had detailing it to the tape with it on. Substantially. Still, I fill holes for a living and hopefully not too many noses were put out of joint.

All in all, it passed off OK. Words and pictures left within minutes of the scheduled time and, all over the world, the blue glow in the corner of the living room will tell the story of the Dakar, Day 1.

And they were great pictures, as well. The stage might not have had the majesty and vrutality of Morocco, Mauritania or Senegal but it was heaving with fans and looked a real challenge.

Almost everyone made it through… At the present time, just 2 bikes seem to be hors de combat (but are expected to restart tomorrow) and, though his support truck towing him out of the stage decided to turn around on top of me in the dark, Kenjiro (Mad Dog) Shinozuka’s Nissan also seems to be in the event, if by the skin of its teeth. After all the time he’s lost, though, will it even be worth boarding the boat in Malaga tomorrow night – assuming whatever is wrong with his Pathfinder is fixable. Not a great start to his 22nd Dakar.

But at least he didn’t kill me!

So, now it’s 8pm, pitch black, and the sounds of packing-up equipment fill the cold air as the whole operation bugs out for destinations unknown (to me at least…)

Sebastian is just putting the timecodes on the script and then it’ll go out to those who need it and our job is done.

We’ll board our coach and fall out somewhere hopefully hotel-like at some stage later, looking tired and hungry.
So, for tonight, it’s goodnight.

Oh, you thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you?

As if…

The 2CV made it through the stage. It’s 150th in the cars, with Miki Bisaion’s works Fiat PanDakar under 3 minutes ahead in 148th and Bruno Saby, in the other teeny in the event, the second PanDakar, in 158th, more than 25 minutes further back…

The Super Snail rolls on to day 2…

January 5 - Hurry up and wait...

Or in fact, the other way round... after all the waiting, finally a hectic day, spent almost entirely within the confines of the Press Office, making the first of our programmes.

So, here's the way this works... In the 26-minute programme we took a look at the Car, Bike and truck categories, with interviews from the major players, plus some quirky little stories (yes, the 2CV made it - the French editors loved it too...)

Trouble is, not all the interesting people went through on Wednesday and Thursday. We were schedlued to voice the programme at 4pm today, with interviews still to be done after lunch... In the end, it all happened at about 5.30

Writing my script with numerous interviews hurriedly translated by the multi-lingual Alessandro (normally from Eurosport but here, like me, an ASO bod...) took all afternoon.

Sadly, that meant that today's visit from friend, local resident and Le Mans racer Bobby Verdon-Roe was only briefly in my schedule. We spent an enjoyable hour or so checking out the cars, bikes and everything in Scrutineering. Even for a racer used to the long process buuilding up to Le Mans, he was surprised by the sheer scale of it all - as I have been, just seeing it all grinding into place.

He was most impressed to learn that a full Dakar assault in a British-built Bowler (Land Rover-based but highly modified devices with V8 power) could be done for around £150,000. That probably makes a Le Mans Series campaign look like chicken feed, for the kind of mileage even F1 drivers don't rack up in an ENTIRE SEASON !

Even as we were mulling all that over, he received a text from another pal, Jamie Campbell-Walker, asking him what hews he had... At that stage I had to take my leave - but I'd love to think that something might yet ferment between the two former Lister drivers...

BVR and JCW in a Bowler for 2008? Great fun. After all, their long-time partner-in-crime Tom Coronel is palnning to enter next year, sharing with partner Paulien Zwart. Tom's twin brother Tim (the good-looking one, apparently) is here this time, in a Bowler run by a Dutch team, driving with his girlfriend Gaby Uljee...

After arriving back at base at 10pm last night, we stumbled into the hotel restaurant and partook of their supper buffet (again, majoring on the fishy-wishies) and then a pleasant surprise. TV director Christophe had arrived from Paris in the morning and he told the two editors and myself that we didn't have to leave until 9am. Result! More precious sleep...

Tonight we're beginning the Dakar experience proper though... checking out and packing everything, ready for a 7.30 getaway, as the first pictures from the opening stage will begin arriving in our temporary office (wherever it may be - someone will know, I'm not even asking) at around 11am... and then the madness begins.

Today's leisurely run-in turned into a last-minute panic as they were adding stuff with one hand while cutting out bits with the other... In the end, I saw most of the images for the first time as I voiced it. having not spoken into a microphone since December 22nd, I was a little rusty and couldn't speak. My Dakar teeth obviously don't fit properly yet...

Hopefully, tomorrow, though similar, will be slightly less fretful, as there will be something to talk about, in terms of a day's stage result, positions etc, instead of all the background I've had to try and dredge up for today's show.

Hopefully...

Haven't taken any pics today, but here's something from Lisbon to tide you all over.

More tomorrow - if there's time / internet (who knows on either count?)

And again, thanks for all the good wishes and support.

January 4 - Now let's get a few things straight...

Sorry about this - but those of you who have taken some perverse glee in the thought of me punishing myself by actually COMPETING in the Dakar are in for some disappointment...

No, the Morris Minor is not entered...

No, I am not driving, riding or navigating...

I am just poncing about, as usual, pretending to be a journo.

In fact, I am working with the organisers, voicing their daily 26-minute highlights programme, featuring all the day's action, interviews etc. And hopefully some insight from your's truly.

Luckily for most of you, Eurosport are likely to re-voice the shows, as they have their own Live broadcast each evening and for those of you tuning in to OLN, they too will probably revoice the whole thing.

You'll just have to take it on trust that I am actually going to be in Africa slumming it and not sunning myself on the Algarve / Mustique / Mauritius, as would be normal at this time of year (obviously! us TV guys get paid a FORTUNE!!)

That's it for now...

more later



So, the day again started early, for a 7.30 departure. Very foggy this morning, but it had mostly burned off by about 10.30. Again the tech check process seemed to get underway very slowly, in fact there were still a few from yesterday being done first thing this morning, as they were not seen before closing time (10pm) last night.

Brought myself more up to speed on some major faces, as the Mitsubishi and VW teams, who are likely to battle it out this year for victory, were both going through today. Mitsubishi's red armada (not shown left - that's an Audi TT, as any fool can see... space-frame underneath and Porsche-powered... the Dutch seem to have a lot to answer for!!!) arrived in the am, along with seemingly every other Mitsu in the entire event (I guess if you're going to see a few Pajeros, you might as well see them all, rather than chop and change every hour or so!) Many many support vehicles as well, all impeccably prepped, as you'd expect from a team with 25 years' experience of the event and the system.

VW looked no less professional and in their third full year, seem confident that they have everything in place to win.

But, as Ari Vatanen reminded us when we talked to him this evening, on the Dakar, as in life there are only surprises. Some good. some not. You never know what is around the next corner or over the next dune.

Surprising sense from an MEP!! If only a few more of our elected representatives made as much sense and were as much fun to talk to... Always was a hero and hasn't changed.

I find that being introduced as "The New Toby" (my friend and Eurosport colleague Toby Moody - the English voice of MotoGP - did the job for five years before me and put me up for this adventure) certainly helps people slot me into place in the scheme of things. And Tobe, lots of folks have asked to be remembered to you... They all tell me, when they become aware it's my first Dakar, that I will never forget it, it will never leave me.

The nearest I can come to understanding that is my enduring love of Le Mans. Once bitten, as they say...

And if my wife Leah reads that, I'm SO dead... of course, I really mean my enduring love for her and my kids...

Think that helped?

Me neither...

But they DID come along after Le Mans... I mean longest love... should I stop digging, do you think?

It's night-time now and I will finish this before going to have the luxury of watching the firat half of my first programme. It goes out tomorrow night, as a preview and this is the only time that I will see anything in advance, or record my voice before it's broadcast.

Luxury indeed.

But it does bring the start of the event another step closer.

I can't wait to get underway. When I see the first car blast away from the start, I will be happier...

Then, to quote VW's Mark Miller (Hi again, Toby) "I can't wait to be standing on that podiun in Dakar..."

I may not get to step up myself, but it'll certainly be the climax of a huge adventure.

Hopefully, I can take you along for a taste of the ride as well...

Oh, and by the way... thanks for the comments. From some unexpectedly far-flung areas... looks like the email network has been busy spreading the word! I appreciate the feedback already... in a week's time it'll be even more welcome. But don't save it till then!

Night all...