Mick found his biggest fan, Robin finally located his dongle, and someone had a birthday in the desert.
We awoke to sun, peace and quiet. Some of us slept in the house, whilst Patrick and I hammocked.
Please note that when night falls, Moroccans allow their dogs to roam, no doubt protecting them from the fierce wildlife (meerkats?). Dogs locked up all day celebrate their freedom in dog-like ways, ensuring a 120db all-night chorus. Who let the dogs out....
Nevertheless, here is Mike enjoying the early rays. The reason he looks awake is he'd probably been up since 4am photographing.
Susan took William for a taster.
Sir Ensure Youhaveasunhaton
c/o/ Lawrence of Leeds
After fond farewells, we were back on the road, where Paul, who had driven so many speedy miles to catch up, promptly succumbed to a micro-sleep, but ended safely on the gravel roadside.
On entering a tunnel, we met two rock legionnaires who allegedly protect Morocco from all-comers.
Mick's fan had been stripped and examined, and sadly condemned. After a short trip into town, he emerged triumphantly with a 'new' one.
Robin required a dongle, this request usually resulting in shrugged shoulders. Happily, a Moroccan opened his telecom shop just for Robin and Susan during siesta and they got the required article, yet the packet bore no name for this electronic tool.
We experienced some epic scenery today.
Reaching the Meski oasis, camp was set up in the now familiar routine, creative construction amongst fellow adventurers ensuring convivial wagon-train sharing. Mum & Dad Outhwaite suggested William have a bath, so a logical bathing area would not be the natural springs of Meski (a Moroccan version of our spa), but in the blue washing container!
Yours truly was honoured by everyone singing happy birthday, and William assisted by helping to blow out the candles and eat some cake that my wonderful grandson Jake had got me.
The balloons were great too. Missed my loved ones today.
On the road again, two types of horsepower were evident.
The Dunes de Sable at Erg Chebbi were too touristy for our liking, so we shunned the crowds and sought out a remote campsite in the desert. John's expertise with language and making instant positive relationships never failed to impress, with 40 invaluable years' experience working in 55 countries. As in here, when a farmer appeared (with more friendly children to play with William) to advise we moved a tad, due to a danger of flash floods and us being washed away. Taking this local knowledge seriously, campsite was thus set up.
It was time for our party to increase by one. John had taken into our employ the services of a local Berber guide by the name of Yahya (pronounced Ya-here) who arrived in time for our evening meal.
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