South Australia and the final leg back to Victoria

The huge stretch of the Nullarbor (my 3rd crossing now and still as enchanting as ever) entailed a couple of overnight bush camps and included the sighting of an escorted abnormal load of mining equipment that even by Australian standards was remarkable.
We detoured inland a little to stay at Pildappa Rocks which provided excellent camping, a good fire and sublime sunset photos from the smooth granite surface where rainwater pooled up to provide patches of lush grazing for the kangaroos. Around the circumference of the rock the farmer had created dams and walls to collect the run off for irrigation as this is still a very dry part of Australia.

 

Kimba saw us at the point regarded as the mid point of the run between Perth and Sydney and we eventually overnighted memorably at Mount Remarkable National Park where emu, parrots and roos had little concern over the tented bipeds.

The long pier at Port Germein provided another refreshing walk and later inland we visited Barra, a former copper mining town whose ruined engine houses and stacks were a reflection of the early Cornish settlers traditional skills.

At Morgan we crossed the Murray River on the chain ferry and camped on a tributary where pelicans watched us warily as our trip drew to a close. Indeed a final night at Baileys Rock saw the first real rain of the trip but we were rewarded by good sightings of a tawny wide mouthed owl chasing the moths attracted to the trailer lights.

Thus after 7 weeks and almost 7000 miles the trip was over - unloading the trailer and airing the tents and swags was soon accomplished before we enjoyed a meal in the local pub and for me the first pint of Guinness for a couple of months. PnK dropped us off for the Melbourne train and two hours later we were at the Alto hotel once more for a weekend of rest, recuperation and laundry. The Queen Victoria market was revisited and we also explored the excellent Royal Botanical Gardens, strolled along the Yarra and made our way back through Chinatown finding the urban vibe a huge contrast to the remoteness of most our trip.

Bargain Car Rentals lived up to their name by providing a brand new Hyundai for £10 a day that gave us a chance to return to the Victorian Alps for a week - it was winter but still warm and sunny encouraging us to spend a day with hired bikes on the Great Victorian Rail Trail starting at Yea and passing through a brick lined tunnel that reminded me of the newly opened ones under Bath back home.

Cosy cabins on campsites provided for our accommodation at Yea, Mansfield and Rutherglen with the opportunity for some local walks including to the summit of Mount Timbertop for views towards Mt Buller where the ski season was in its early stages.

After a relaxing week we returned the car to Melbourne Airport and were soon underway on a long but smooth return to the UK with a brief stop in sweltering Dubai, a crowded train from Reading and a peaceful night in the van back at Carmarthen where all was well.

At present there is a slight hiccup as replacing the rear shocks and springs has proved temporarily tiresome, however new bolts will be sourced tomorrow and fitted Tuesday freeing me up to have a nose around favourite Welsh haunts, catch up with friends and look forward to a variety of events over the rest of 2015.

The final batch of piccies for this trip can be found here and it would be appropriate to finish by thanking PnK for a memorable trip that allowed us a rare opportunity to travel to some amazing places. The stillness of the desert, its remoteness and the very nature of travel in such a harsh environment will remain with us for a very long time.

Sporadic locations via SPOT here but irregularly for the time being until we head off to South America in October. The page only keeps locations for about a week so may well be blank at times.

Down to the Nullarbor

So after some good daytime exercise at Mount Augustus and a couple of restful nights we headed south to Meekathara and before long were enjoying 'smoko' or coffee break at the old Mount Gould gaol built to incarcerate sheep rustlers who hassled the early settlers 150 years ago.

Stunning desert scenery provided the back drop to our steady progress and memorable overnight stops in the desert added to the sense of adventure. Thus the picture perfect small town of Sandstone came as a surprise with well kept streets, a cracking pub and an interesting museum - a creditable effort to the 60 or so permanent occupants of this once bustling mining settlement. We enjoyed an excellent pub lunch before heading off once more in to remote country.

In the 1960's a certain Len Beadell had been contracted by the government to push routes through these remote areas with his 'Gun Barrel' Team and his legacy is a grid of dead straight tracks named after family members that are now graded annually and permit access to very remote parts of Western Australia. The Ann Beadell highway took us south east to Leonora where we again refueled and later stopped at Yeo Lake homestead.This was a beautiful but sobering place in the middle of nowhere that two brothers had tried to establish as a working sheep or cattle station - the simple tin hut was reminiscent of some of the bothies back in the UK and had a well with a hand pump and a rudimentary bucket shower that provided us with a good wash.

The weather had clouded over a bit and indeed after a night in the bush on the Connie Sue (Beadell) track we packed up in the first rain of the trip.
However things soon improved as we headed south under clear skies which led to a chilly night as we were now well south and east.

Reaching the Trans Australian Railway at Rawlinna was a milestone and we were lucky to see a vast freight train heading west with a mixed load of containers, pipes, trucks and minerals. However after following the line to Neale's Junction we struck south on a rough track once more stopping 90km north of Cocklebiddy for our coolest night yet. 

Thus we reached the Nullarbor and turned left heading east on the final leg of our 11000km journey. Huge road trains and fellow travelers were something of an oddity and the superb white dunes at Eucla near the sand smothered old telegraph station were a stark contrast to the desert scenes of the previous month. Similarly as we turned down to the remarkable cliff tops above the Head of Bight we marveled at the empty seas, distant horizons and glorious colours.

We are now off for a week exploring Victoria so I will hopefully post again before we depart for the UK next week to update the final leg of this superb trip. 

Locations will appear here 

and the latest crop of pics can be found here.

Alice Springs to Mount Augustus - the remote way.

So after a weekend of relaxation and restocking in Alice Springs we headed west in to the McDonnell Ranges with ten days worth of food, fuel and water stopping at the various access points to the lofty ridge including Glen Helen where we had called in our own van almost exactly four years to the day before. 
We stayed the night at Redbank Gorge and then picked up the Gary Junction Rd - a dirt track that headed out towards the Great Sandy Desert. 

The trusty Landcruiser easily handled the conditions and the sturdy trailer continued to perform well and provide for our needs at a range of overnight stops where the true silence of the desert was almost deafening. A good range of wildlife was spotted - wild camels, wedge tailed eagles, the odd kangaroo and most notably at Jupiter's Well a large flock of noisy galahs who crowded the trees waiting for scraps as we ate and then next morning congregated on the half oil drum we had filled from the hand pump. As a result of the good water supply we had enjoyed a rare shower the previous night courtesy of the on board gas heater and water pump and were able to top up the 30 litre spare jerry can. A puncture picked up the previous day was plugged and we set off again with the intention of picking up the Kidson or Wapet track out to the coast. A deep sandy section had us bogged briefly until lower tyre pressure provided better traction and the night out in the bush was defined by the ghostly call of numerous dingoes within yards of our camp. Huge termite mounds were also a feature of the superb desert scenery but before long a mining company sign advised us that the route was closed until further notice. 

We had called in at some of the remote aboriginal communities where dilapidated houses, numerous wrecked cars and seemingly despondent locals were a predominant and troubling sight. Fuel could be bought at a high price and we purchased the odd treat from the sparsely stocked shops that were usually heavily barred and secured. Punmu was in a similar vein and had a school staffed by young Australians who were friendly and full of hope but again there was on overwhelming sense of futility about people continuing to live hundreds of miles from any source of employment or other support. 
After passing the Teifer gold mine we emerged on to a sealed road and stayed two days at the refreshing Carawine gorge where a huge sea eagle passed overhead with a large fish in its talons, jabirus fished in the shallows and again galahs and a range of other colourful birds took advantage of this unspoilt oasis.
A night of civilisation at Marble Bar gave us the chance to go and see the eponymous outcrop of marble that straddled the river and enjoy a cool beer in the tin pub although the camp site was busy and noisy in advance of an indigenous funeral due the following day.

Thus after a week in some very remote country we pulled in to Port Hedland where again 4 years ago we had called in search of rear brake pads and a fix for seized calipers. The huge piles of salt shimmered in the hot sunshine and we were lucky to see the huge Gaia Petraeus iron ore carrier escorted in to the vast port.
After a resupply in the shopping mall we turned off the main road for a memorable night at Balla Balla Creek just a couple of miles from the sea and enjoyed a remarkable sunset.
Millstream Chichester National Park was a good stop with a couple of walks available and the old homestead to explore - most of the old farm machinery had been made in the north of England at a time when it was months by sea to get down here and these stations would have been even more isolated.
Whilst heading to Tom Price we saw one of the huge ore trains that constantly supply Port Hedland and had a noisy night on the town site as many mine workers use it and their shifts start early!

A couple more nights of peace and quiet in the bush saw us arrive at Mount Augustus,a geological oddity that claims to be the largest rock in the world and rises to over 3000' above the surrounding semi desert landscape. The station provided a rare grassy campsite and welcome showers and we decided to have 3 nights there as there were numerous walks and sights in the area - the best being a day walk to the summit following a superb gorge up and a rocky trail down. The night skies were awe inspiring as there was no moon and as usual we enjoyed a fire and dined well.

With limited battery power and internet allowance I will come to a halt for now - we are back in Melbourne in a comfy hotel after 7 amazing weeks on the road and I will describe our journey south to the Nullarbor and then east back to Victoria in a day or two - apologies for the long gap since the last post but as a look at the Spot locations here will show you we have been a very long way from civilisation. 

Perhaps the adventure can best be appreciated by looking at the bumper crop of photographs here.

Home in two weeks but a few adventures planned for the interim - regards to all for now.

Melbourne to Alice Springs via the Hay River Track

Our trip started well with the Carmarthen to Swansea train being cancelled, however 36 hours later we were on the bus in to the Melbourne CBD and the welcome comforts of a small hotel - the Alto on Bourke St.
After some much needed sleep we walked through the centre to the Queen Elizabeth market which had an amazing display of stalls selling excellent food and crafts from around the locality. Sunday saw a stroll along the river passing Melbourne's social and entertainment centres before checking out our onward travel arrangements to Geelong. 

Thus on Monday the train delivered us to Phillip and Klara's home town where at their house a smart 4.5l V8 Toyota Landcruiser sat hooked up to a substantial aluminium camper trailer. This remarkable piece of kit was hand built by Phil and looked very much up to the job being fitted with water tanks, gas bottles and stoves, 240v and 12v power and lighting systems, a fridge, plenty of storage and a clever drawer arrangement to keep dry and tinned food in plus our rucksacks, folding chairs and a tent for our use. A second large drawer contained their sleeping arrangements - namely a double swag that pulled out to give comfy sleeping well clear of the ground.

Thus on the Tuesday we headed north on tarmac with plenty of supplies - both solid and liquid stopping off at various heritage sites en route. We soon felt at home as it is less than four years since our last visit and enjoyed various relics that related to the development of this enormous country over the last 200 years. The Big Lizzie traction engine was a monstrous beast that pulled trees and stumps out of the ground to clear land, consumed a hundred tons of wood a week and proceeded at a stately 1mph.

Ice creams at Wycheproof were enjoyed as we inspected the intriguing creations from scrap of a local artist before our first night at Green Lake - an abandoned livestock farm with good basic facilities. We soon had the tent erected and were introduced to the Ecobilly and the various functions of the trailer that would provide us with the essentials of life over the next few weeks. A good meal round the camp fire set the scene for many similar evenings and a smooth routine soon developed that at the start of each day usually began with a dawn chorus that to us was unfamiliar.

Kinchega National Park on the banks of the Darling River gave us a two night stay with a quick trip in to the nearby small town of Menindee and then a visit to explore the old Kinchega homestead whose enormous shearing shed saw 80,000 head hand shorn each year in its heyday. At a nearby weir dozens of pelicans fished lazily whilst eying us warily - a comical sight for both I suspect.

 Silverton north of the large mining town of Broken Hill was reached after a couple of days and provided our first night in a proper campsite. The former silver mining town was full of character and has been the setting for a number of films - most notably the Mad Max series - but is nowadays largely abandoned with artists moving in and out and creating all sorts of colourful and quirky displays. We ate well at the surviving pub that was packed with memorabilia and enjoyed hot showers at the slightly run down site.

Saturday in Broken Hill saw the town celebrating ANZAC day - the mining conglomerate BHP (Broken Hill Proprietary) was established here and valuable mineral resources are still extracted here on a substantial scale. For us it was a chance to stock up before our first foray in to the real outback as seventy miles west of the town we headed on to the first gravel tracks of the trip. Cardboard protectors were taped to the rear windows to stop stones causing damage and tyre pressure were lowered to smooth the ride as we headed to a lunch stop at the remains of the old copper workings at Waukaringa.

Chambers Gorge saw another two night stop giving us a chance to visit the aboriginal engravings, climb Mt. Chambers for stunning views across to Lake Frome - totally dry and now a shimmering expanse of dry salt pan. Strong winds blew which kept it comfortable for us although PnK found it cool and we enjoyed another evening around the camp fire.
We headed out via Blinman which had once seen a copper mining boom and sported an interesting mining heritage trail, assorted quaint historical buildings and a shop selling delicious quandong pie.
The undulating Paralchina Gorge took us across dry creeks, through ancient gum trees and out to the highway at the Prairie Hotel which sat alongside the rail line that sees 30,000 tonnes a day of coal head south to Adelaide's power station. Later that night as we camped in the bush we heard the 2.8km long train as it took 3 minutes to pass.
The mining town of Leigh Creek was a last chance to stock up on food and top up the 200 litres each of water and diesel that would see us across the deserts ahead - after passing the coal mining area we stopped at Farina which had been my furthest point in 2011. The abandoned town provided a fascinating history of this remote area but in fact was to be the start of our venture in to the true desert country.
Marree was a highlight for Sarah as the famous mailman Tom Kruse left here on epic journeys delivering post and supplies to remote farms that exceeded a thousand square kilometres and depended on his tenacity in battling extremes of climate and terrain for their very survival. The Birdsville track up to Mungerannie is now far easier but still only gravel all the way and subject to occasional flooding - Tom in his day would cross the 5km wide Coopers Creek in a small 'unsinkable' boat if the waters were up but we were able to drive through as we had not seen any water in days.

Just north of Marree at Copley we were denied another quandong pie as the bakery had closed but an amiable character - Talc Alf - was still entertaining a handful of visitors with his view of the world surrounded by some very creditable carvings of the local soft rock from which talc is obtained.

The Mungerannie road house was the last sign of civilisation for us - one of the many artesian bores was pumping hot fresh water in to a large pond and surrounding marsh which attracted a variety of birds - and various other travellers stopped for fuel and refreshments including some hot and dusty looking motorcyclists.

Various warning boards advised of the possible dangers ahead as we entered the Simpson Desert and began following the K1 track north. These tracks and the associated shot lines are the legacy of widespread exploration of the area in search of oil and gas, most of which led to nothing but the few tracks that remain passable are the key to crossing these inhospitable regions. However a 4x4 is essential and some of the huge red dunes were a challenge for Phil's powerful vehicle - low tyre pressures, a steady approach and front and rear diff locks proved the key to success especially as the 1.5 ton trailer provided an additional challenge.
A sublime evening atop a dune toasting the setting sun with fizz had us all counting our blessings, especially in the light of the tragedy in Nepal that has touched so many around the world. 

The next day for some 15km the track followed a dried out lake before we reached a significant land mark - Poeppel's Corner where the NT, Queensland and SA all meet seemed to be in another world with scrub, red dust and flat vistas stretching in every direction.

The Hay River track was no more than two tyre marks in the scrub as we headed north enjoying remote desert camps and seeing nobody for three days. Phil's mate Adrian had joined us at Marree as the permit required to cross aboriginal land  insisted that at least two vehicles needed to travel together and his Hi-lux followed at a safe distance as we followed the dry river bed with occasional camels, wedge tailed eagles, falcons, galahs and wild budgies appearing from nowhere : in four days we saw no sign of water and wondered how on earth they survived. 

Eventually however we met three vehicles heading south and a day later reached the Batton Hill homestead where an aboriginal family were running a small bush camp started by their chief elder who had passed away last August. Whilst their yard was a perhaps predictable mas of wrecked cars, plastic toys and run down buildings the camp was, whilst basic, clean, well laid out and sported a good shower heated by a wood fired boiler and decent loos. A huge fire trough enabled us to relax after a day of very strong winds that had blown dust all around but did at least keep the flies away - they had been a constant feature of the last few days but did not detract from what had been a truly unique experience. Several hundred kilometres of remote, merciless terrain with little room for error had been punctuated by starry skies, good company, excellent food and a surreal desert stillness the like of which we may not see again even on this trip.

After another two days we have reached Alice Springs which seems like a modern metropolis but in reality is a town facing up to the huge problems afflicting the indigenous people - namely high unemployment, substance abuse and a changing modern world that is leaving the traditional cultures further and further behind. Our relatively safe, modern and comfortable crossing of land that they managed to survive on for thousands of years has served to enhance my respect for a people that appear to have wrung an existence out of nothing.

In a day or two we head west and will be out of contact once more for some time.

However you can follow our position at this link and see the photos to date here at this link.

Out and About before Oz

Over the 4 weeks since my last post I have been fortunate enough to enjoy largely good weather visiting some very special favourite places in Wales, catching up with good friends and planning further adventures for this year and beyond.

A couple of days on Offa's Dyke with Sarah and Liz saw early spring sunshine, empty paths and stunning views across the rolling border countryside before I walked and cycled in similar conditions in the Brecon Beacons.

I joined Jason and Hazel from Biped Cycles in Brecon (www.bipedcycles.co.uk) to check out a potential new route for the 2015 Brecon Beast Mountain bike event scheduled for the 13th of September - www.breconbeast.co.uk for full details. As this year's event is likely to include sections on land not normally open to the public it should be a true classic and will be deservedly popular so enter soon. We enjoyed good conditions and the tracks followed should add to the rigours of this remarkable but rewarding event. Any offers of assistance on the day for marshalling will be gratefully received - call Jason on Brecon 622296 for details as early as possible.

A superb walk along the Llangattock escarpment then dropped via a pub to the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal where I reflected on my early days post MI that first included gentle walks along its peaceful path over 3 years ago.

The Black Mountains north of Crickhowell provided the setting for a long day over 'Table Top' mountain and along the ridge before returning via the Hermitage. A helicopter was delivering jumbo bags of stone for path renovation over on Waun Fach and worked non stop in the distance gradually extending the line of what looked like headless snowmen.

My third day in the area involved walking over the Central Beacons to check the state of a track that will also form part of the Brecon Beast - it was in far better shape than the permitted path down the Upper Swansea Valley that follows the old Swansea to Brecon railway as a while back a large section of an embankment was washed away during heavy rain leaving the route considerably narrowed and a stretch of fence hanging in mid air.



Whilst in Brecon a group of us attended the Banff Adventure Film Festival where a range of titles entertained us culminating in the remarkable antics of Danny Macaskill on the Cuillin Ridge - very impressive and well worth a search on www.dannymacaskill.co.uk

After a night at the well kept Irfon River Caravan and Camping Park Sarah and I enjoyed walking the only section of the Epynt Way (www.epyntway.org) that I had failed to ride last summer, making good use of two cars to link the interpretative centre with the superb viewpoint above Garth via a meandering path that follows the SENTA perimeter.

The Hereford Caving Club meal was a sociable and jolly occasion and included an interesting pair of films covering vast cave systems in China and a more modest endeavour in the shape of a long running dig in cramped conditions in the limestone of South Wales.

After catching up with family in Bishop's Castle I headed to Sheffield for an early celebration of Penny's birthday and after our traditional curry we enjoyed a good walk in the southern area of the Peak District. Kelham Island in Sheffield was a fascinating museum telling of the city's industrial heritage and charting the rise and decline of its traditional heavy industry alongside more specialist skills - many of the latter seeing a revival in recent years although the city still has acres of derelict brown field sites that cry out for sympathetic redevelopment as an alternative to new build on the more rural perimeters.

With Easter approaching I again returned to Wales for some energetic badminton, a good walk on empty tops and alongside the Wye before the troops assembled in Lower Chapel for some serious mountain biking. Fortified by Jan's excellent cooking five of us headed via Abergwesyn and the Devil's Staircase to the Towy Valley for a long but rewarding day in the Cambrian Mountains.
We took the top track to arrive at Moel Prysgau bothy more or less dry shod but this proved to be a shortlived bonus as the next couple of hours up to Strata Florida entailed numerous river crossings and many long deep puddles in the mountain track which climbed steadily as we headed west.
A friendly bunch of off roaders gave way as we toiled under a strong sun before heading full tilt down to the Abbey where the small visitor centre offered welcome tea and biscuits. From Pontryhdfendigaid (that upset the spell checker) we joined the old railway line across Cors Caron bog and down to Tregaron - this being the location for last year's memorable horse rescue and this year being the location for a pleasant lunch in the sun.
Lungs almost burst as tired legs tackled the long climb out of Tregaron on the mountain road to Beulah but with such good weather we were inspired to turn north in to the forestry to return to Moel Prysgau bothy and then head back to the vehicles via the wet lower route that again entailed four river crossings and numerous pools - yours truly achieved two spectacular fails whilst in deep water so ended up drenched much to the amusement of a tired but happy bunch of determined riders  - big thanks to Dale, Luke, Bill and Pete for such an excellent day.
Back at base Briony and Tracy had encased a salmon in choux pastry over mushrooms and rice which rounded off a superb ride far from the Easter crowds which had by all accounts descended on the main Beacons Tops.
Sunday saw Luke off on his road bike whilst the rest of us parked in Abergwesyn to walk out to the spectacular cairns of Drygarn on a cloudless day. Feminine wile persuaded a local farmer to drop the drivers back to the cars which avoided a section of road - much appreciated after a good day on again largely deserted tops.
The final energetic blast centred once more on the Cambrian Mountains with three of us starting out from Soar Y Mynydd Chapel at the northern end of the Llyn Brianne. After a steep walk up an unrideable section we set off on the old RUPP which soon became divided by a deep erosion trench that in places was a couple of yards deep but rarely more than a foot wide. Thus our descent required care and concentration but we all safely reached the gate that led south following the remarkable Doethie Valley - mostly rideable, always stunning and that afternoon bathed in sunshine. We enjoyed the variety of track and terrain, lunched briefly at the ruined farmhouse and endured a steep climb over to the forest track that heads round the west side of the water from the dam passing a property once considered as a bothy project in the mid 1980's but now enjoying a new lease of life as a holiday home. The views across the reservoir were sublime and we returned to the remote and enchanting chapel after the third superb day in succession.

That evening I met up with Chris from badminton and his cousin who organises motorcycle adventure tours in Peru and within the hour we had both agreed to join one of David's tours - five weeks in Peru, Ecuador and Colombia starting in late October. As neither of us ride we will be travelling in the support vehicle and no doubt be heavily involved in the logistics and socialising - for me it will be a useful taster of a continent I have long wished to explore extensively. Whilst this means I am unlikely to return to the Langdales this year for the traditional early winter fortnight it will be a wonderful opportunity to make contacts and fits in neatly with commitments to farm sit in September and have a rare Christmas at home with family.

So what's next??

Well after a bit of quiet time involving riding the Gorllech trail in Brechfa earlier this week, walking in to Lluest Cwm Bach bothy and cycling in to Nant Rhys bothy (both of which were in excellent order) I have today been packing for the next adventure - 9 weeks in Australia beginning with a flight to Melbourne next Thursday.
It will be a challenging trip with limited opportunities to update the blog or communicate in any way but you should be able to follow our progress here and can catch up with photos here.

An approximate indication of our route is outlined below thanks to digitally advanced GPS mapping software - essential when out in the field.

 

Unexpected Interlude

The last post saw me waiting in Bristol for the work required following the issues in Morocco to be completed with the van on the ramps at PC Motors.
Chris's competence at undertaking the tasks and assessing any requirement for further work (nothing untoward was picked up) was reassuring and he expressed some amazement that we had covered such a long distance on shocks that were at best suited to a small car and had had important bushes removed to facilitate mounting. The upper and lower suspension ball joints were replaced on both sides, two drop links renewed, ARB bushes changed and new gaiters fitted to the offside driveshaft. A new connection was made to the alternator and both belts changed as part of a service which included an oil and filter change - work I would normally do myself but it made sense to avoid a session crawling round in cold weather and added little to the overall bill.

Thus I was swiftly back on the road but with the trip to Oz only 7 weeks away and a motorhome show at the NEC imminent I resisted the temptation to head straight back south to warmer climes again. 
The show had an impressive array of vehicles with one or two catching my eye - notably the Autotrail V line 600 and vans converted by Wild Ax near Halifax and MURVI in Devon.
After spending some time visiting various stands and checking layouts a number of conflicts arose as I would prefer at least 4 belted travel seats, the choice of two single or one double bed, a maximum length of 6m and cylinder gas rather than a refillable fixed tank as these are not acceptable or refillable in certain countries. 
Few vans tick all these boxes and as this old girl seems OK for a while longer I will defer a decision until forced upon me - newer models are ever more complex with regards to maintenance and fault diagnosis and even the inclusion of such luxuries as hot water systems, showers, loos and heating add to the list of potential issues out on the road : not much to go wrong with a pack of tealights and a kettle!

So with a cold late winter period in the UK to fill I have returned over recent weks to a number of favourite haunts with walks in Ystradfellte and some energetic mountain biking over the Brecon Beacons which included passing through my old smallholding at Cwmnanthir which was looking run down and unloved - indeed had I been visiting with a view to purchase I would have let it pass, quite a contrast to my first visit in similar wintry conditions 25 years ago in February 1990 when the dilapidated house offered so much potential and indeed over the ensuing 15 years provided so many challenges but so many rewards.
A walk in to the Elan Valley bothy included a look a the Claerwen Dam where Top Gear had recently re-enacted an old Land Rover advert - an event cleverly re interpreted in a 55th birthday card from Ian and Jan that appears in the photos later on.
Other Mid Wales bothies were visited to assess their post winter condition as our biannual Welsh area meeting loomed in early March so I enjoyed walks in to Grwynne Fawr and Nant Rhys and a ride up the Towey track to Moel Prysgau where generally all was well.

A brief trip north took four of us to the Staffordshire Moorlands and a remote and bizarre pub south of Macclesfield that promised camping and comfort.
Only one of these materialised as we arrived in a blizzard at a snow covered field with a very much locals only pub and cold conditions. Whilst I enjoyed shared warmth and comfort in the van the others had eventually to rise to the challenge, brave the elements and take to sodden canvas flapping in gusty winds as the heavens opened.
Mercifully our walks were actually largely dry and took in the Roaches on the first day, the Cheshire Matterhorn on the second and Wolfsdale on the third with the latter day rounded off by an excellent meal in the Ship Inn at Wincle.
Thursday saw the others pack sodden tents and clothing in to black bags during torrential rain as I headed over to Sheffield for a couple of days walking and cycling in the Peak District with the usual warm and humorous company of Penny and her many friends.
This trip also gave me a chance to look at a couple of van converters in the Leeds area and some dealers in the Midlands as well as a quick look round Leeds City Centre and the Corn Exchange.

 

To celebrate my birthday the family lunched well in Ludlow and enjoyed a walk along the river with the town's impressive castle shining across the water and Mum again amazing me with her cheerfulness and continuing enjoyment of the new life in Shropshire.

A quick run down to Pembrokeshire saw our plans for a return to Oz in mid April take shape - I need to store the van for our 9 weeks away so am looking at options and we have built a week or so of flexibility in to our plans as by the very nature of our trip delays are very likely!

After a night near Teifi Pools enjoying the spectacular view and some windy conditions I headed round to Nant Syddion where our bothy meet took place - the quaint cottage looked in good order after a sweep out and it was a good opportunity to meet Simon the new MBA Chairman and old friends from the Welsh scene. By and large our cohort of bothies is in good order and whilst there is a delay pending HLF funding for the new project in Snowdonia this will give us a chance to remedy the minor issues that were identified during the meeting.
This week has seen a walk on Offa's Dyke in perfect Spring weather - the 1200 year old structure is surprisingly intact and passes through stunning scenery - and with good weather forecast for next week I hope to get on the bike again near Nant y Arian probably staying at the lake side wild camping spot last visited as part of a memorable autumn visit to Snowdonia. Before that is a quick visit to Shropshire for Mother's Day so until I report back in a week or two some photos sit at this link here.

Moroccan Challenges

After a night in Nekob we set off to try and cross the Jbel Sahro with the sat nav eventually picking up a rough dusty piste that headed north across dry barren land with evidence of small scale mining for an unidentified mineral. After an hour and only covering 10 miles we were beginning to question the wisdom of our planned route as it was some 80 miles in total and we had not received any reliable indication that tarmac formed any part of it.
As we crested a ridge we looked down in to a green valley with palm trees edging a small village and decided to take a break with a walk out along the cliffs towards a distant telecomms mast. En route we met a young Moroccan man walking purposefully away from the mast - Mohammed was off to get water from the mine workings and asked us to join him for tea on his return in half an hour. Up at the mast a small 8' square mud hut contained a bed, a 12v battery charged from a small solar panel, a gas ring and a few meagre posessions whilst outside a slumbering dog eyed us casually. The view in to the valley was superb but rudely shattered by an enormous double explosion and cloud of dust that rose from a small field - Mohammed returned soon after and seemed unable to explain the event.
As tea was brewed he explained somewhat incredibly that he was the 'gardien' for the mast charged with ensuring that its array of solar panels remained intact and that the batteries were topped up and maintained. He had lived in the hut for 3 years with no water or other facilities and would see very few people during the days up there - an hour's walk from the village below and an hour by car on the rough track back to Nekob for food or supplies - but seemed very content with his lot. During the spring and autumn he would help his family who took groups walking up in the remote mountains but even so it seemed a lonely life with not much likely to change and we said goodbye feeling very humble and grateful for the insight in to his simple life.
The rough track dropped in to the valley floor where as usual the women were working hard in the small fields, children were playing alongside and a few flocks of sheep and goats were being tended by elderly shepherds. We cautiously made our way along the valley with a few bumpy crossings of the almost dry riverbed - at one point we caught up with a Portuguese couple in a hire car who were obviously rather concerned about their liability for damage but were heading for two distinct mountain tops they had been told of.
After another 10 rough miles that took an hour we reached a small open area with a couple of mud buildings that constituted the Bab 'n Ali gite and campsite. It was very basic but the owner was a friendly guy with limited French and English and we decided to stop for the day and consider our options. Abdul was conscious of a withered right arm but proudly showed us the 'facilities' - an ominous hole in the floor loo, a cold outside shower and his kitchen. Two or three of the courtyard rooms were available for overnight use but of course we were very grateful as ever for the comforts of the van and were soon set up - overhead lines had snaked up the valley but clearly he was yet to be connected up so we planned for a chilly night and decided to make the most of the afternoon sun by walking closer to the spectacular eponymous rock pinnacles of Bab and Ali that loomed away to the west. 

On our return we passed simple houses to which we could see the shepherds and their flocks slowly heading home after another long day on the rocky screes in search of fodder.
We cooked and washed in the van before retiring to bed with the usual additional insulation in place to ensure a cosy night and slept well in a spectacular location with no lights visible at all down the valley. Next morning Abdul assured us that at the top of the pass some 20 miles away the road improved so we set off with high hopes as the scenery was absolutely stunning. Within the hour though after covering only 5 miles we decided that the van was going to take too much of a hammering and with a lot of ascent ahead and no sign of any other vehicles or habitation felt that the potential for things to go pear shaped was significant.
Three rough hours later we were back at Nekob and turned west on tarmac for the Draa Valley which would take us south down to Zagora and the desert once more. Lunch was enjoyed high above a palmery in the Draa and a side route took us through humble villages and past stunning pise kasbahs. We passed through Zagora heading for M'Hamed and at one point crossed a river bed as a new bridge was being built - before Christmas this was the area that had suffered damaging flooding after torrential rain.
Unfortunately as we started climbing another high pass with many hairpins we both admitted to hearing new and unnerving noises from the front suspension and after a quick check underneath (where nothing immediately amiss came to light) we decided to drop back to Zagora and see if we could get things checked out. As we negotiated the rough back streets of the town the noises became yet more alarming and we were grateful to get to the 'Prends Y Temps' camping - a small courtyard under the palms inside a kasbah. The owner was very welcoming and we had soon set up and washed a fortnight's laundry by hand. After hearing of our issues Abdillah offered to take us to the best local mechanic the following morning and indeed next day we followed him round to a strip of mechanics units that we had passed the night before. As elsewhere in Morocco numerous tiny shopfronts were tackling all manner of repairs on a variety of decrepit vehicles and if nothing else Chez Ali's stood out by having a concrete floor, inspection pit and a range of testimonial photos on the rear wall. A French couple on the site had had their leaf springs strengthened and seemed to have confidence in the guy as did a Dutch couple whose 30 year old ex German Army ambulance had suffered a broken water pump. Apparently some people bring their vehicles here for servicing rather than in Europe and the general impression given was of a competent guy. After a brief test ride over bumpy wasteground Ali's boys had the van jacked up and worn suspension ball joints were diagnosed - top N/S and lower O/S. A long day then passed as other vehicles arrived with their woes and we chatted to the Dutch couple whose part was en route from Marrakesh 400 miles away. Sarah was a star as the hours ticked by and even plucked up the confidence to wander back to the site on her own as she had now adjusted to the country's differences and no longer felt threatened or at risk. Eventually by late afternoon Ali informed me that the parts would arrive (from Marrakesh) the next morning so the van was put back together enabling us to drive slowly back to the site.

So on the Friday we dropped the van off and headed off in to Zagora to send some postcards, enjoy a good lunch opposite the mosque and eventually return to the workshop to find the van still in the air. As I had suspected he had not been able to change the top joints as a special tool is needed but the bottom ones had been done which seemed good news. Unfathomably though he had also seen fit to remove the front shock absorbers and was busy modifying another set to fit, judging by a dent in the inner wheel arch something big had slipped and I noted a nick in the drive shaft gaiter so began to question his ability to reolve our issues. Once the modified shocks were fitted the ride height was uneven which Ali claimed required spring assistors fitting to the rear and at this point I decided we would halt all further actions and return to the site for a review.
Our options were limited and unappealing as we were 600 miles from the ferry to Spain and recovery/towing would be expensive - no breakdown cover is available in Morocco. Leaving the van and contents behind had a range of implications re customs and the loss of around £4k worth of kit - sleeping bags, tools, equipment, personal goods and the like whilst flying home and returning with another vehicle made only marginal economic sense.

Thus we decided to try and make our own way home - limiting the exposure of the van to further stress by sticking to motorways and catching the ferry from Santander to avoid 800 miles through France.
So after settling Ali's bill we headed north knowing that 200 miles and the 8000' Tizi n' Tichka pass lay between us and Marrakesh where Morocco's motorways began. The creaking and banging was as bad as ever as we tentatively followed the Draa north stopping for bread and yoghurt before starting the first climb over to Ouazarzate wondering just how far we were actually going to get. Unfortunately our predicament prevented us from really enjoying the stunning scenery which I had passed through two years ago and so wanted to explore in greater detail but gradually the miles were eaten away and by late afternoon we were way up in the snow covered High Atlas on a road that ressembled a plate of spaghetti on the sat nav screen. Some families had come up to play in the snow and even build snowmen whilst a coach load of passengers had stopped to help pull a car back on to the road after a minor crash but we concentrated on the job in hand easing our way north and down to the plains. The damage caused to roads, villages and fields in the valley as we dropped towards Marrakesh was significant and would take many years to repair - heavy machinery was at work on the worst areas but I guess the fields would be left to the villagers and their donkeys.

We turned down a side track to find a place to spend the night - again aware how crucial the van is to spending a night in comfort and some sophistication when travelling under our own steam and how many issues would arise in its absence.
On the Sunday we approached Marrakesh only to find the road blocked by police and a mass of people and vehicles jamming up the area - we set the sat nav to take another route in to town which took us down a rural link road that produced the full range of unnerving noises from below - this merely served to convince us that we were making the right decision but also ended in a road block so we decided to avoid Marrakesh altogether which involved a 90 mile detour.
Whilst crossing a barren plateau at speed in hot sunshine the oil pressure light began to flash along with a warning beep and I switched off the engine immediately before coasting to a halt. As the rev counter had also stopped I diagnosed a break in one of the small alternator wires which was soon confirmed and swiftly repaired although as the break was very near the connector there was little to play with. Two officials in a van stopped to check we were OK which was very kind and reaffirmed my conviction that the Moroccan people are some of the friendliest and most helpful I have met.
Later that afternoon we were some 200 miles in to the 400 miles to Tangier when an almighty bang shook the van - in the middle of nowhere with no other vehicles, people or other activity something had fallen from the sky and struck the door frame an almighty blow - a foot or two to the left and it would most likely have gone through the screen or the fibreglass roof and killed or seriously injured one of us. Judging by the marks left the most likely (but equally unlikely) explanation would appear to be a fragment of meteor......
An hour after dusk and 30 hours after leaving Zagora we creaked across the speed humps of Tangier Med Port and after brief immigration and customs formalities were on the ferry to Algeciras - grateful for an open ticket that allowed us the much needed flexibility to get across to Spain where our recovery cover was at least an option. A final twist in the tail was that the boat also called in at Gibraltar before we finally offloaded at Algeciras and eventually found a place to wild camp just off the motorway around midnight.
Motorways took us north on the Monday - we stopped to book a ferry only to find that there were disruptions to the service caused by weather and mechanical issues with one of the vessels. We booked a crossing for the Sunday to give us some flexibility and later that day stopped in Zamora at an aire in the centre of town amazed and grateful to have got so far.
Tuesday saw the alternator wire part again - an easy fix but a new connector will be the only way to resolve the issue permanently and we decided to stop early that day on a reservoir near the motorway which offered peace and quiet, a chance to walk the shoreline in the warm sunshine and then spend a cosy night with the generator chugging away in the background providing all comforts.
With great relief we arrived in Santander on Wednesday and at the Brittany Ferries office were told we could get on the premium ferry on Thursday for an extra fee which we were more than happy to pay. The helpful lady also told us of an aire a few miles out of town that had power and loos for £10 a night and we were soon there with no one else staying on the brand new facilities.
We rang the office the next day to confirm our booking but were advised that the Pont Aven would be delayed by a storm in the Bay of Biscay with departure scheduled for Friday. However passengers were being asked to turn up as scheduled and offered the chance to use the boat as a floating hotel which seemed an attractive proposition so we packed up to head off.
Having paid the fee to the part time aire supervisor earlier we had been assured that the barrier would allow us out - guess what!! Anyway two ticks with the Leatherman and the system was switched to manual allowing us to make our escape and reach the dockside.
Once on board we found our cabin and settled down to explore the 40,000 tonne vessel that contained perhaps 10% of the possible 2400 passengers over its 10 decks.
After a comfortable night customer services announced that the storm was still causing issues and departure would now be delayed until Sunday so with at least three nights on board ahead we decided to update to their Commodore cabins as these offered much more space, better beds, TV, free hot drinks in a private lounge and breakfast with only the one night actually charged. Vehicles had remained on the quay so we popped back to get some food and clothing before settling down for a few days as strong winds and torrential rain swept in.
We made friends with a lovely couple from London who along with other dog owners were rather concerned for their pets and when the weather eased took a walk round the squares and streets of Santander, calling in at a supermarket for wine and nibbles.

So finally by mid afternoon Sunday we were off - during the day several merchant vessels arrived that had been sheltering elsewhere - but as soon as we were beyond the headland the fun began. Screaming winds and heavy seas caused the boat to sway and lurch dramatically with waves crashing over the restaurant windows on the 7th deck and side waves hammering the steel plates beneath our cabin towards the rear. We retired to bed to watch the last of our Homeland DVDs and eventually the conditions eased towards midnight giving us a good night's rest. 
The crew had to be changed due to the delays so a diversion added 6-8 hours to our journey as we called at Roscoff but by 10pm we had rounded the Isle of Wight and were berthing at Portsmouth.
Despite some heavy snow through Wiltshire along the M4 we rolled silently in to Jean's drive at Shipham near Bristol around 1am absolutely delighted to have manged to get back some 2500 miles without a major mishap. 
The van is currently having the work done by Ali undone and other potential issues inspected so I hope to be mobile again by the end of the week - yesterday saw a bike ride across to Bath for some much needed exercise and with cold but dry weather forecast I may well head back in to mid Wales.
Morocco proved yet again to be an enormously rewarding country to visit and I will return again early in 2016. Whether or not it will be in this van or another remains to be seen - there is a show at the NEC in Brum in a week or two that might give me some inspiration but in reality newer vehicles are ever more complex and would be unfixable in the remoter places that attract me.

As regards the issues this time - the wear and tear on the suspension should have been addressed given that the van has covered 307,000 miles and is 15 years old  (although in my defence your honour it did sail through an MOT immediately prior to the trip) and Ali's unauthorized bodging of the shocks and avoidable damage to the drive shaft gaiter was unfortunate. The alternator wire is a side issue - just part of running an older vehicle and to be fair we did cover several thousand miles in only a few days to get out of trouble with no real incidents. Avoiding further meteor fragments is just a matter of luck like so much in life and at the end of the day we were able to recover ourselves and return to the comforts of western life - something that Mohammed at the mast can only dream about.

Photos summarising the above sit here and our recent locations here.