Sitting comfortably there in your armchair with your large post-festivites belly? Well, now imagine you have to lug that hulk onto one of these puppies and then drive across Morocco...oh how we laughed.
Here's the report from our main man on the ground, Kev:
They got in on Friday after dark, and they had no idea the dunes were behind them. Woke up to quite a surprise. Yesterday brought a bit of bike building, a bit of registering, A lot of sussing each other out and trying to work our who has the mechanical nous.
Turns out, the journey down was a bit eventful. Someone got sick, but decided to throw up into a cloth bag. Cloth not plastic. It had a sort of showerhead effect apparently. So that bus journey sounded like fun.
Round here, we're on the edge of the Sahara Desert, but it's still absolutely freezing. Overnight, the temperatures go below zero - they woke up to find the water onthe bike seats frozen. Come the Adventure, they'll be noticing that on the bums first thing.
The training went well. That was a trip to the local Petrol Station. Most of them got about 20 yards off before running out of fuel and waiting for the others, having a browse of all the fossils.
Kevin decided to use the last of his petrol doing a few jumps. He reckons he might've fractured his wrist. Rudy had a bit of an accident - fell off and bust his leg and his mirror. Good thing he probably won't need either of those on the way. A couple of others got lost on the way back. Darkness kindly fell to help them navigate their way back across dust tracks with no streetlights.
After a slap up evening meal, they were plied full of ice cold beers and hit the dance floor to some banging Berber beats from our band. Jim's moves are worthy of special mention for being particularly stylish. There must be a video somewhere. Here's hoping one surfaces.
Plied with ice cold beers, the runners were lead down to the tents for the traditional punch, fire and more music. Kevin was leading the charge on the party clad in his djellaba. The drummers started at 11pm to bring in the New Year. As midnight struck, everyone was stood around the fire singing Auld Lang Syne.
As for the launch. It went well. Everyone got stuck into the requisite amount of faffing. A few are still a bit confused with how they work. The hangovers probably didn't help matters. All 37 of them got off racing off into the desert.
They all got off. One guy stalled at the startline. Turned out he just didn't switch his fuel on. Good Stuff. Luckily for him, he had two chums turn back to keep him company and lo, all were gone, racing off into the desert. A good three or four of them turned right towards Algeria. Hopefully they'll stop before the landmines.