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We didn’t get a 04H00 wake-up call. In fact we didn’t get to leave the South African Embassy in Riyadh until much later that morning. (We waited until 10H30 for our Saudi police escorts to arrive.) Somehow it wouldn’t have seemed right if the last day of our journey had started out as planned. 45 days of uncertainty had conditioned us to expect the unexpected.
Once our escorts arrived they were remarkable. The car in front led the way and while one followed up the rear, two others made sure we stayed in the correct lane on a fast moving five-lane highway. The Saudi road to Qatar was a far cry from the pot-holed roads and dusty tracks through Africa. We had come to a highly developed and sophisticated part of the world.
We drove through a constantly changing desert landscape. At times the sand was yellow and shrubby, sometimes white as sugar and at other times reddish brown. We drove past Bedouin encampments, with 4WD vehicles parked next to their tent-like dwellings and a few light and dark coloured camels grazing on scrubby little bushes.
“Are the black camels wild?” asked Nigel to our Saudi travelling companion. “No,” answered Abdalrahman Almuzaini, Public Relations Director of the Presidency of Meteorology and Environment. “What’s the difference?” asked Nigel. “The colour,” answered our companion.
Abdalrahman went on to explain that camels – especially male camels – are very friendly animals. There were some vital guidelines, however. “If you hurt a camel, he will never forget. After some time, even up to a year, he will step on your body and kill you,” warned Abdalrahman. “And when he is making love with his female, just don’t interrupt him. He’ll get upset.”
We also saw some dramatically sculptured natural rock formations that seemed to grow out of the desert sand. “They are actually sand formations. It looks like rock, but it can crumble,” advised Abdalrahman.
The most fascinating sight was the barren red sand dunes of the Empty Quarter, as we drove through the Al-Dahna – a sand corridor that connects the Rub al-Khali (Empty Quarter) of the south, to the Al Nafud desert to the north. The dunes we saw were apparently nowhere near as majestic as the 300-metre high dune ridges that stretched for hundreds of kilometres over the vast emptiness to the south of the corridor.
“If you live in the desert your mind will be clear, because you can think there with no interruptions,” remarked Abdalrahman, a man who knows the desert well. “Weekends, we like to go there with our tents. Winter-time is the best time. That’s when it rains and there are also no snakes and scorpions. The stars are many and extremely close to you when there’s no moon,” expounded Abdalrahman to a very envious audience.
At 4.30 pm we saw the sea. The convoy had finally reached the Gulf and we were close to crossing our eighth and last border to Qatar. It also proved to be one of the quickest border crossings we’ve had since leaving South Africa. We spent only a half-hour on the Saudi side in Salwa and were through Qatar’s customs two hours later.
Since Butie’s visa hadn’t come through yet, we had braced ourselves for a few more “mushkillahs” and another long delay. Yet, the Qatari officials must have taken pity on the weary westerners who had travelled so far overland to visit their country. They graciously let Butie through – on condition they kept his passport until they had received the visa.
The women disrobed (their abayas) and a jubilant team crossed the finish line. Only 100 km lay between us and Doha.
We were still grappling with the realisation that it was all over, when we saw the headlights of about twenty cars and what looked like people holding a beach party on the desert sand. The front vehicle turned off the road and the convoy followed. Then we heard the familiar sound of South African accents cheerfully ringing out from the crowd who had come to welcome the convoy to Doha.
We were stunned. Over a hundred South Africans, including an Indian family, had endured the humid desert heat for close to six hours, waiting to congratulate us on having completed the expedition. Chief driver Nico, who had left us in Ethiopia, stepped forward from the crowd to join us. The team was complete again.
“I’m glad it was dark,” said Nigel, as he climbed back into the media vehicle, quickly wiping an inadvertent tear from his eye. Joy and gratitude far outweighed our exhaustion.
So our journey ends in Doha. The team has met its challenge. We made it to Qatar – together. (And in case you were wondering how the team feels – every one of them said their minds were now set on going home.)
Roger, out!
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