Budapest to Bamako 2022. Or how I learned to stop worrying and love the strangers.

At the end of that video I'm obviously back at the trucks again and the crowd has dissipated.  I hear Hungarian being spoken and go over and say hi.  We talk recovery strategy, and the guy is tossing any decent sized rocks he can find under the lifted tires of the truck.  "we have to get the drive wheels some purchase if anything is to happen"

to which I agree.  But I do need to fill my water bottle. 

I excuse myself and head up the hill alongside the river.  I dip my bottle in the running water and fill it up, and point myself in the return direction.  A flying bug hits the back of my head, and I brush it off without thinking.

It hits me again, and I ignore it.  It hits me again, and I'm getting annoyed now.  "What the hell kind of bug IS this???"

and then it hits me.  Or stings me, rather.  Right on the shoulder.  Then another one hits the back of my head.  I'm walking faster now, but still not at the road.  Once I hit the muddy street, I'm about 10 meters away from the trucks in the direction of our camp and I hear shouts from below.  People are running.  Someone's disturbed a hornets nest.

Not waiting around for an invitation, I haul butt back to the camp.  We're over 100 meters away and should be fine.  In doing so, I get stung 3 more times (and I kill every last one of the buggers that got me too).  Getting to camp, I see Frasier on the firetruck:

That's twice I've left danger at the stuck truck site, and twice my camp mates were peacefully in their books.  I could learn something from these guys.

ok, but lets get real.  It's day 2 at this place right now, and it'd be our 3rd day on the road in general and we still haven't left Guinea.  I STILL have to get back to Hungary by the 20th, and I'm STILL losing time and not making any progress.  Ladies and gentlemen, I do think I'm not going to make it...

I mean "stuck trucks", that's fine.  Some equipment will come eventually, or someone one will repair the broken one.  I can live with that (but still be a little stressed as I do).  The bee-hive that's going to prevent anyone from getting anywhere near those trucks?  Well, that's just the universe telling you you're berked.  If I had a beer right now, I'd sit down and drink it.

In my truck is a bottle of high-deet bug spray.  I spray it on myself all over just in case there's some sort of scent left on me from those bees.  I don't know if it will mask it, but I figure it couldn't hurt.

It's another long boring wait, but at 11:45 another Hilux drives by, and the man with the vest happens to be near my truck.

"Big Boss?" I ask

"Machine" he responds

Oh hell, berkin yeah!  Finally!

The hilux is making cars file full right on the side of the road.  We're parked off enough that we dont have to move.  Some of the locals are asking "what's going on"

"Machine!"

and here it comes:

A crowd is following the tractor after a moment.  Then we see them running back in our direction

Oh crap, the bees!

Man, I don't remember.  When that thing went by, did it have a closed cockpit???

Still though, all that is out of our hands.  let's clean up the campsite in case we can get the heck out of here.

Curiosity does eventually get the best of us, and we do head back down with our cameras.

As you can see, everyone is keeping their distance a bit.

You don't need to watch the whole thing with that last video because I don't catch the final tug.  I wish I had though.

The tractor fires back up, as does the truck.  In unison they're on the throttles.  They're pulling for all it's worth, and the truck JUST starts to move and "SNAP" the tow point is ripped right out of the truck's bumper.

The cable falls to the ground in a less than spectacular fashion, and there's a bit of a disappointed "aw" that falls over us in the back part of the audience.  Further up though, people are excited.  There's shouting and waving and people start running towards their cars.  We take the hint and are off like the shot. 

Not that orange van you saw in the video's though.  He shoots forward with no regard for anyone around him.  He drives right over that broken cable and plugs the hole that's been made between those two semi's with his vehicle.  he's got the wrong angle and has to adjust, but now momentum is on our side.  Another vehicle goes bumper to bumper with him, and another with him and now we've got the current flowing in our direction.  We're getting through!

Back at the truck, we wait with the ignition off.  As soon as I see Alistair's brake lights flare up, I'm blocking traffic and we're merging.  I wont start the truck until the very last minute to save the gas we have, but my hand is on the key and ready.  My eyes watch my sideview mirror.

Wait, they're out of the truck and working on one of the side doors.

"what are you doing???" I ask

"A lock fell through the door"

And we need to work on this NOW??????????????????????????????????????????!!!!

The traffic that was passing is now jammed.  I swear to Bob, if they make me miss this because of that damn lock...

Unfortunately, that's where I have to pause today.  Big update for tomorrow, and I'm butting up against my upload limit for youtube again with all these videos.

Cheers guys!

Luckily we don't have to wait long.  The lock gets fixed, the brake lights light up and I block traffic.  We're now (slowly) on the move.  It really is stop and go though, and the gap between the two trucks is JUST wide enough for the fire truck.  That guy in the van that plugged it up for all of us is my absolute hero!

Coming out the other side, I'm given a glimpse of what the wait looked like for oncomming traffic.  Not much different really.  People are in their cars now and waiting for this flood of vehicles to let up so they can go too.  The line seems similar in length.  Beyond that, it's kind of a different world.  No longer up-hill and switchbacks, this side is flat with the occasional bend.  People are passing us when possible, and the road is still in terrible condition.  It's also not wet!  Where in the heck did we end up???

Pulled off at a safe parking space was one of the teams we saw in line.  We stop to offer help, but they're just airing back up their tires (now, why didn't i think of that???).  Outward and onward the road gets straighter and then it straight up turns into something out of mad max:

It's hilarious and kind of embarrassing at the same time.  These Pugeot wagons are just BLASTING past us!

Further on down the road (and still getting passed by Pugeots) the dirt turns into pavement, and we FINALLY start making good time

And on we go.

We stop for fuel sometime around dinner.  We're aiming for Koundara.  This would have been the camp where I rode on the roof of the Banana's disco and dipped in the river for what is STILL the most refreshing dip of this trip.  I don't think we all want to go back to that area to camp though, so we discuss what's up.  It's still early in the day at this point.  Maybe 4pm or so.  Alistair says they know a campground that has a shower just on this side of the border.  I'm really chomping at the bit to get the border crossing out of the way today in an effort to make tomorrow easier (I really want to do a border a day, whenever it's possible)

The guys in the firetruck reluctantly agree.  I can tell they were really looking forward to a shower tonight, but I thank them a ton and we're on our way.  (more memories, as we drive through Koundara.  We drive right by the sim card store where the guy toutched the back of Katka's thigh while "helping" her get in the vehicle.  Also the ATM that we completely drained on the way in with Lukas, Misha, and the gang)

We catch the border before it's closed and Max is riding with me.  Out of Guinea, and about to enter Senegal we're being marshalled into a queue by an officer pointing and motioning me forward.

I slowly proceed.

Apparently the car to the right of me opened his driver's door and had it WIDE open and was about to have it ripped off my truck because my marshaller is REALLY pointing now.  Except he's repeatedly pointing right (and I'm looking oblique left to watch him).  I adjust the steering wheel accordingly.  Then he throws his hands up in a "Stop stop stop!" motion. (which I do)

"Didn't you see that car???" he shouts

I look.  There the dude is.  Door wide open with it hanging well into my lane.

"No boss, I was watching you!"

"How did you not see that car's door?" he shouts again

"I was watching you, boss" I reply

He's angry and has me park out of queue before he walks off.

Ah well.  Whatcha gonna do.  Honestly, I'm too tired at this point to care.  If this is where we're sleeping tonight  then half a border is better than no borders crossed at all.

His supervisor comes out and sees our vehicle (the decals are a dead giveaway).  A conversation happens, and then angry guy marshals my truck and the fire truck around the queue and straight up to the passport office

NICE!

In Senegal now, and it's getting dark.  At least the roads are paved from here on.  One more dirt road might have been the death of me.

We're just across the border from Koundara at this point and headed to Tambacounda

Tambacounda was the camp site we stayed at that was also supposed to be an air strip.  We're thinking we wont make it all the way, but Senegal was also the country where Bananas found beer so maybe we'll get lucky and I'll be able to get the guys something for crossing the border with me.

Its getting darker now and we're looking to stop soon.  We pull over in the beginning of a town, and it's shack after shack just like I remembered when Banana's were lead to a bar.  I decide to try my luck when I notice we're parked next to a general store.  Jack and I go inside, but Max stays outside for a smoke (he's rolling his own, so this takes a second).  I ask the person behind the counter if he has beer, and he tells me "moment"

He dials his nokia brick phone and the person on the other side speaks english.  We ask him, and he informs us that we shouldn't drink beer or smoke in this town or we'll have "big trouble".

oof, don't want that.  Much appreciated for the heads up dude, we'll behave.

"Max!  No smoking"

"No smoking?"

"Nope"

"ok" and he puts his cigarette back in his tobacco bag (unlit yet).

I thank the store keeper in Arabic and we're on our way.

Back at the fire truck we relay the info.  No smoking or drinking in town

"eh.  We should probably press on then." Alistair says

we all agree.

Back in vehicles we're on our way in the pitch-blackness (no street lights or anything).  Max is still riding with me and on the other edge of the town we see those Dutch participants in their landcruiser!  They've got the back open and are cooking dinner on a coleman type cooking stove.

"dont mind if we do!" was probably what Alistair was thinking as he pulled into the lot with them, and I followed.

We get out and greet.  Have a good laugh about being free from the highway and are all getting ready to cook up some grub.  I've got Katka's jetboil out and have it heating water when a crowd of people form instantly at building across the street.  They're headed this way, and they're walking with a purpose.

"ooooh boy"

"No smoking!" one of them shouts

Max and I show our hands "we're not smoking"  (the rest of our group is behind us, at this point)

"No SMOKING!" the elder man shouts again

(still showing hands) "we're not smo......"

oh boy.  the Dutch man behind me has a cigarette

"ok, look.  I'm putting it out" (and he does)

The crowd turns around and takes a few steps in the direction towards the building across the street.  We all breathe a bit of a sigh of releaf and are looking at each other when we hear someone yell "NO ALCOHOL!"

The crowd turns back around and walks aggressively back in our direction.

"We don't have alcohol!" I say holding up the jet boil.  I figure the flame is a dead giveaway, but alas...

"No alcohol!" they shout again and they're to the front of my Toyota now.

"Bill" Max says in a low voice

"Yup" I respond.  I've already got the flame out and the water dumped before he could finish my name.  Max is in the passenger seat and buckled before I could two-step it around the back and in the driver's side.  I fire up the truck and let the flowmaster 40-series belch it's god awful bark out the back before I hit the brights and let the clutch out.  If I'm shooting forward, I figured I'd give the crowd a fair warning.

it works and they're darting left and out of my way.  The landcruiser is in front of me and peppers my front end with gravel from the parking lot.  The fire truck isn't far behind but is obviously slower.

Up the road a safe distance, we all get together for a huddle.

"Guys, it's probably best we avoid civilization" we all decide, and this very much goes with how uncomfortable I was the last time I was in Senegal (remember when Bananas stopped in the city, and we ate food at the place and Roman and I stood in the doorway, and Katka got cat calls?  Yeah, this time is not looking much better).  I still have the coordinates to the airstrip and say as much.  I'm able to sell it because I also know there's a hotel with a bar and I'm betting we can get some beers "to go" for our camp.

It's decided.  We're off.  LandCruiser in the lead, me in the middle, and Firetruck bringing up the rear.

This is where the speed difference I mentioned becomes important.

The landcruiser is steaming along at over 100kph, easy.  I'm in the middle, and am not too worried but I want to keep the three vehicles together so I'm hanging back at about 90kph.  The distance between us grows by a lot.

The firetruck is behind me and falling further behind.  He's got it maxed out, and it's just over 80kph.  My job at this point is to keep both vehicles in view.  And how does one do this when they can't speed up (for fear of losing the guy behind), well.... we just don't slow down.  Not for villages, not for turns, not for nothing.  I blast the KC daylighters and have my highbeams going for as much visibility as possible, I run as close to 80kph as possible, and I keep the LandCruiser in sight as much as possible.  There are times when he gets so far out ahead I can barely see his taillights, but Alistair back there is pickin up what I'm putting down and we're able to keep up surprisingly well.

It helps that no one is on the road. No cars in the oncoming lane, no people outside of their buildings, no one in the streets... nothin.

And on we go like this for over an hour.  Eventually we reach our destination, and wouldn't you know?  I was right!  the hotel has beer!

In the hotel we head straight for the bar and start buying what we'll drink in camp.  A couple beers each, but there are a lot of us so we're starting to run the risk of draining the bar tender's entire fridge.

"You know, there's a store next door that sells beer" he says.

There is?  Alright, we'll buy these from you and head over there.  and that's what we do.

The store is cramped and all the cans are lined up on the top shelf in one line that wraps around the counter.  I take a tally of people and say "I'm buyin!"

I grab 24 beers, and a bottle of random-ass gin.  I don't care how this is going to feel tomorrow, we are going to tie one on tonight!

"are you sure" the guys ask

"hell yeah, man.  You guys did me a solid by crossing that border.  Let me return the favor"

and they all agree.

back in the truck Max tells me it was pretty cool of me.  I tell him it's "give and take"  they put themselves out by not getting that shower, the least I could do is cut them a break.

Up at the airport it's just like I remember it.  This is where I took my 2-liter of water shower... (aw.  memories!)

We set up and break out the drinks.  We're the only people here.  Camp is struck, cans are open, and we're starting to make plans for tomorrow.  They want to go to a place called "Zebra bar"  it's close to the northern border and its owned by Germans.  They'll have showers and beers so we'll all be happy.

I agree, as long as we're not stopping at some early hour like 4pm.

They all agree. and we clank cans.

I took the first slurp of mine and immediately double over.  Something hurts and this isn't normal.  I take a couple steps out of camp and burp up TONS of foam.

weird... It wasn't foamy going down...

And then I do it again.  It's practically like vomit....  wait... no... now it's vomit.  I'm puking now...  oh this sucks, and my stomach hurts so bad!!!!!  My head hurts as well.

what the heck is going on???

I dump the beer and step back into camp.  I let them know that the beer just made me throw up.  No one else is having any problems

"hey, we were thinking.  If you wanted to cross the border tomorrow..." Allistair starts.

"Hold on, man.  I'm still really hurting here." I say still holding my stomach, and I get in the back of my truck and start prepping the bucket. 

It was a good think I did too because pretty soon, I'm high stepping it to the nearest bunch of bushes.  Behind them, I make real good use of the bucket. 

Back at the camp, the guys want to try to plan.

"lets not.  I'm not in good shape" I say, and feel awful.  Not because of the beer but because of how accommodating these guys are and nothings gone right enough for me to reciprocate.  I mean they're trying to be helpful right now, but this sucks!!!

Another run with the bucket follows.

When I'm done, i pull out the sat phone and call Sarah.

No answer.

She calls back, and I tell her I'm puking my guts out.  I've taken an inventory of what I've eaten all day and it's not good.  Half an orange, one banana, and half a baguette.  Definitely not good, but not what's killing me either.

I check the sim on my phone and it's not working out here.  Making note, I offer the sat phone to anyone who wants to use it.  Max accepts and calls his daughter.  I eat some freeze dried pea soup and am feeling better.  Being done with the beer, I pour myself a couple fingers of gin in a plastic cup from the fire truck.

muuuuuch better.

We hang out a bit, we build a small fire, but I still have to hit that bucket from time to time.  Then it's out early for us.  Busy day tomorrow.

Northbound +5

https://en.zebrabar.net/

Up at 4am, and my personal phone is completely dead.

damn.

I'm feeling better-ish, but I still have to use the bucket.  Unfortunately there's no water in my truck (it's all in the firetruck) so I can't make food or coffee until everyone is awake.  Instead, I pack up my sleeping gear and tent.

Wake-up time today was supposed to be at 5am, but no one is awake.  I've got everything packed so I just lay on my backpack.  Shortly afterwards, I hear the call to prayer start. (it doesn't sound anything like what I used to hear when I lived in Kuwait).

First person wakes up around 5:15, it's Max.  At 5:40, the two of us decide to wake everyone else up.  Then we talk plans.  I can see that Zebrabar is only 8 hours away now, and I inform them I'l be peeling away.  I just can't take another 8-hour day or I'll never get home.  The guys are cool with it and send Max with me.  they figure I can drop him off in Morocco (no idea what will happen after that, though)

I do my usual fluid check and all is good.  I wanted to change my air filter now that we were off of the dirt, but I cant find it in the mess that is the entire back of my truck.  In stead I beat the dirt out of the used one and put it back in.

Coffee (non Katka style today) is started and the mug passing around happens.  Breakfast is vegetarian carrot/leek soup (freeze dried camp packet special!) and we were wheels turning by 6:30.  First up we hit a bank machine and then we got fuel.  I had to purchase a new sim card as well, since the one I tried last night wasn't working (it was one of the ones the Bananas gave me before we parted ways.  OOH!  Katka and Julius wrote.  they're in Budapest now and headed home to Bratislava!)

The whole day is otherwise uneventful.  In fact the only picture I took was this one:

IT'S A BANK CARD THINGIE!!!!!!!  I CAN PAY WITH A CARD AGAIN!!!!  Man, I never thought I'd be so excited about something so dumb.  But this really is a cash based economy to the point that even finding an ATM to take your card is damn hard work.  They must just pass cash around constantly and generally avoid banks or something... I dunno

Anyhoo, ETA to Zebrabar is 1500 and by 1600, we're only minutes away.  That's my line in the sand.  I really want to get across that border and it closes at 1800 or 1900.  It's cutting it damn close. 

I'm behind the firetruck but I stomp on the gas.  Completely forgetting about the Morrocco plan, I explain that I'm peeling off NOW and toss Max's bags in the fire truck.  I thank them all for being so accommodating and tell them how wonderful they've all been, and how I really don't want to go but I HAVE to make that time.  I'm still apologizing through my driver's window to them for leaving as I'm making the 3 point turn to head to the border and am off with one last wave...

That's it.  it's solo from here on out...

Going back a bit.  Right before I stood on the brakes, I asked Max to help me write in the destination.  I want to cross at that national park, as I still remember the big red warning in the roadbook:

"DO NOT CROSS AT ROSSO!!!!"

Max actually agrees with that sentiment.  He's been through this part of Africa quite a bit and types the park into Osmand (the only map ap that's working right now).

Here's where I'll be crossing:

1600 now, I have 1-hour to get there, border crossing might take an hour maybe more.  I need to MOVE.

and I do.

This should be the way we came in, but I do not remember this part of St. Louis...

Doesn't matter, keep moving!

Ok, so I'm moving but now the city is behind me and the road has turned to dirt...

KEEP MOVING!

okaaaaaaaaay.....  I will.

and pretty soon  I pass a herd of cattle, but I am flying down this road.  My maps tell me I'm almost to the dam at this point, but the built up city and subsequent traffic in St. Louis didn't do me any favors.  I alternate between looking ahead and looking at my map update, I can see that this border is legit single-digit kilometers ahead.  Like maybe 3 or 4 tops! 

Out the front window, things are getting narrow.  It looks something like this

 

I'm on a causeway at this point.  There's salt water to my left,, and a dried up (but still muddy) lake bed that shows various soft spots.  I do consider driving down in it, but this being near Mauritania's national park I'm not sure if it's also protected.

Again.  The GPS is definitely taking me a different way to this border, but we're down to maybe 2 klicks at this point.  I keep the pressure on the truck and things get even NARROWER!

Furthermore, I no longer see tire marks from another vehicle!  it's time to turn around.  Maybe if I just push it a bit further, I'll find a good spot.  Definitely don't want to reverse in this crap.

Maybe if I push it a little bit further, I'll find a spot to turn around...

Just a little further.  The border closes in 30 minutes and I'm so close!!!!

(the music is off at this point, but my speed is still up just in case)

Things are actually hitting the truck at this point.  my tires are crushing literal bushes and I want to keep my momentum up to bounce over them.  Crap, I really need a turn around.

The road joggles left and then right.  I let off the gas slightly, and am focused on what's around the left turn (Trees, but are they far enough apart to 3-point it????) that I don't notice the right side washes out into a mud hole.

Off the throttle and having lost momentum, it swallows me right up.  The passenger wheels are sunk 3/4 of the way up.

I try a quick shot at reverse, but the back tire just spins.

Ok.  Calm down.  We're in the middle of nowhere and alone, but we can do this.

When I get out to lock in the hubs I see one of the last branches has knocked my light bar completely off.  I retreive it, and once back in the truck I put it in 4-low.  I try 3rd gear and get nowhere.

BERK!

Ok.  Lets air down

Not grabbing my gauge, I just air down to whatever.  I get my bottle jack out of the back and a piece of wood I brought for a foot-pad.  I lift the passenger tire up and stuff a sand track underneath and behind it.

BFG KO2s are my go-to tire for just about everything under the sun.  But once they get clogged up with mud, I've found that all bets are off.  Might as well be a slick tire on wet grass...

The effort has no effect.  This is when I notice I only had one hub locked in.

okay.  Lets try this again!

nope.

Nothing.

No winch, nothing to winch to.  No ratchet strap, no high lift jack.  No chance of any other vehicle coming out this way...  I call Mrs. Hungary and tell her what happened.  I'm devastated 

"It's ok.  You're safe.  Get to a hotel, we can always buy another truck".

I'm beating myself up pretty bad.  I'm practically in tears right now, but crying isn't going to fix anything (which only makes me feel worse). 

I have a Christmas run to Ukraine after this, and 50 children were counting on what was going to be in the back of that truck to make their holiday wishes come true.  50 CHILDREN, and I lost their truck and everything that would have been in it because I couldn't be bothered with reverse!

I get out my phone and record my last video.

Whoa

matthewmcl said:

Whoa

Woah indeed.  That's what I should have been yelling while pulling back on the reins, instead of going "full gallop" into a mud hole...

Failure is a helluva thing.  Since that point I can think of a million ways I could have recovered myself.  I'm not sure if any of them would work, but the important thing is I was utterly exhausted after a month or so of beating myself to death through constant exhaustion and not thinking clearly.

When I look back, I realize that all I needed was a water source and I was equipped to safely stay for DAYS.  (But of course that's not what happened)  The next time something like that happens, I'll be starting the recovery effort from a more experienced standpoint. 

Here's the rest of that story:

There I was...  Out of water and on foot.  Truck stuck in the mud...

I unload the entire truck and put anything of value in my backpack. Passports, money, anything I need to travel, and anything I cant replace (the duck from the dashboard also goes in. I'd never leave Helge Meyer behind). I'm also carrying things for my old teammates. They were counting on me to get them their stuff back when I returned to Europe, and I still intend to deliver (it's not their fault I'm stubborn and stupid). I grab that stuff as well. I call Sarah on the satellite phone and completely melt down. 

The truck wasn't just supposed to get Christmas to children in Dnipro. The truck was supposed to get handed down to my youngest when he was old enough. I was supposed to take care of it, and it's abandoned now because I was too stubborn to turn around when I realized this was a stupid thing to do. I was so focused on getting to the border before it closed, it never dawned on me that it wouldn't do me any good if I never got there at all.

and that's how I left it. Everything loaded back in it (I didn't want to litter any more than I already have).  Closed up, keys in it, and on foot. I had room in my bag for exactly 2-changes of clothes.

I pass one person a few kilometers down the road and continue with nothing more than an "assalamualaikum".  

Shortly thereafter, I ditch one of the heavier bags in the bushes. It's too hot and I'm too exhausted to carry everything. Sorry guys, I tried. I make a note of what's being left, and decide I'll purchase replacements for my teammates at Decathlon when I get back.

A few more km's down the road, I see cattle being herded by two men who look to be in their 20s.

"assalamualaikum" says I as I approach from behind

(One of them replies in Arabic, but I'm too exhausted to even try to understand)

"Minfadluka habibi, enna Ameriki" (Please my friend, I'm American)

"Oh, so you speak English then!" He says.

"yes, but why do you?"

"I'm an English teacher, and you look lost. Or broken"

I explain that I'm both. I'm part of the rally, but I had to ditch my truck. It's beyond help, and I need to figure out how I'm going to get back to Europe. I can fly if I can get to an airport, or I have some friends at a camp nearby called "Zebrabar", but either way I need a hotel.

We talk a bit more about the truck, why it's important, why I'm alone, how the St. Louis airport has been out of commission for some time, how I'll need to cab it to Dakar (we know how well that place worked for Bananas!), and eventually he takes me to the Imam's place where he draws me water from the well.

(I drink it without my filter bottle.  I don't  want to be insulting)

"I think I can help you. Why don't you come back to my house, bathe, eat... and while you do that I can call a friend with a tractor. We can pull your truck out"

I'm seriously (and I mean SERIOUSLY) doubtful, but I recognize a crossroad when I see one. If I stay to pull the truck out, I lose my ride possibility with the guys who are still staying at Zebrabar. If I stay, there's still a chance we wont be able to recover the truck... No decision I've made this trip has gone well, but what do I have to lose at this point? I figure the absolute worst case, I can always catch a cab to Dakar and fly from there. With that, I decide to stay.

We go back to his place and they give me more water. His name is Ousseye, and I get to meet his family. His father, his wife, his baby boy, his brothers, his sisters, and even his grandmother. It's a lot to take in. Eventually he gets his friend with the tractor on the phone, and we agree that for 50k of the local currency, he'll pull me out.

I'm still doubtful, but I accept. I mean it's going to take a BIG tractor to do this...

Around 8:30pm we get a cab and drive to the other end of the road I'm stuck on. We walk in from there. The first thing I realize, is there was no way I was ever getting through this road. I got stuck in the easy bit, what was further ahead would have absolutely destroyed the truck (and no, there were no opportunities to turn around).

The tractor gets in around 9:30 and before then I was able to walk back down my path and pick up everything I had left behind. I had also left the key on in the truck's ignition and the battery was almost completely dead (I wanted to leave it with the key, in case someone rescued it in the future then they would be able to drive it). Thank god the engine fired off when it did, because I don't think the starter had another turn left in it...

When the tractor driver arrives, we all hop onboard.  About 5 of us in total, with him occupying the only seat.  The tractor driver doesn't even bother with the trail. He just plops his GIGANTIC New Holland T6050 tractor down into the mud and drives parallel to the road with all of us onboard until we get to the truck. The darn thing doesn't even care what the terrain looks like, it just drives like it's its job. 

We arrive at the truck, and Ousseye looks at my front bumper.

"um.....  No big worm?"

No man.  No winch.

There's giant mud puddle between where the tractor has to stop and where my truck is.  Easily 7 or 8 paces across, and the driver doesn't want to dip his tractor in.  I have an inertia rope, and a tow rope and it takes both tied end to end to give us the length we needed to tie the two vehicles together.

Once hooked up though, the tractor tugs me out like I wasn't even there. The mud turned out to be an easier obstacle than I had previously predicted. Once free of the water hole I fell into, I can drive just fine in 4wd behind the tractor and eventually we clear everything.

From there we all celebrate. The guys were all happy to help, and I am absolutely ecstatic to have my truck back in my life. I pay the tractor drive 75k, the taxi driver 10k, and each worker 10k. Everyone is happy.

Ousseye invites me back to his place again and that's where I spend the night. We buy some "pizza" on the way home (triangle looking pastry with pickles, some sort of meat, and ketchup in it), and that's what we have for dinner. I take a bath in a bucket in a bathroom that's the "hole in the ground" type and update my notes about all that's transpired before bed (I sleep on a mattress under a mosquito net).

by 5am the next day we get up and it's time for me to be off (5am was also his prayer time). The truck is still hurt, but she'll make the run. I can fix things when I get back.

I have a survival bracelet on my left wrist that I take off and give to Ousseye. It's the paracord variety with the whistle and little button compass where it clicks together. My eldest son bought it for me as a Christmas present in case it would save me on my adventure. I figure since Ousseye saved me, maybe he could use the bracelet in case he ever gets "stuck". We exchange numbers and we're still in touch on whatsapp and telegram

Anyhoo, I don't know who in the universe put a cattle herding Senegalese English teacher, some umpteen kilometers north of St. Louis, Senegal on a dirt road that had no landmarks or destinations on the other side, who also just happened to have a friend with a GIANT New Holland 6050 tractor on speed dial... but damn I'm sure glad they did.

Cheers, guys.  I'm going to leave it there for the week.

berkeley yeah!

Holeeee sheeetttt....  that is amazing.

You must be doing something right.

That is awesome. 

I can hardly wait for. Monday. 

So glad you didn't have to ditch the truck!  The stars aligned to save it!!

Man, I forgot the best part.  Ousseye doesn't even really live in that town.  His family is there, but he's usually in another town about an hour away (where his school is).  He only visits "once in a while" to visit with his family, take care of things, and then it's back to the school for more teaching.

The stars REALLY aligned to make that happen, and I'm still in shock at the way they did.

Northbound +6

So, there I was.  Reunited with my baby.

5am, and Ousseye points me the way out of his village, and I immediately get lost:

As you can see, the village is a mass of houses clumped together, and the roads are just kind of in between.  It's all good, I'm pretty good at dead reckoning by now.  I point my truck in the direction that I think is the road and sure enough I find pavement.  I do have to hop a little burm to get ONTO it, but I do get there.

Down the road a ways, I see a shell station that isn't open yet.  I pull in and try to reorganize things.

Everything inside is  a mad mess.  That back window isn't getting any better either.  It takes me a couple trips from the switch in the cab, then to the back to help straighten it out, to get the window up and down these days.  The light bar (will all four lights, undamaged) now lays on top of all the cargo in the back.  Stuff is strewn everywhere, and of course I have trash to throw out (which I do).

I still have Katka's squeegie so I give the wind screen a much needed cleaning, and then it was time to air up the tires.  (one was aired down to single digits worth of pressure!)  While all that is going on, I call Sarah on the sat phone and let her know the good news:

"Our baby is safe"

Prep complete, I hop back in the cab and fire her up.  I pull out onto the road with a refreshed level of confidence and optimism.  I'm expecting Major Lazor to start playing any second now, but it never does.  What gives?

and that's when I notice that Katka's USB stick is very much not in its spot anymore.  I took it out when I was collecting other peoples belongings yesterday, and must have put it in a bag somewhere (spoiler alert.  It wasn't in any of the bags and I felt bad for losing it).

Ah well.  I still have my playlists on my phone and the aux cord.  I hook things up but need to stop at an ATM before i get a chance to play anything.  I punch in my code, and the machine straight up eats my card

"Fraud Suspected!"  it says.

uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh.  crap?

Well, I'm not the type of American to get stuck in a foreign country with only one bank card, so I find another ATM about 100-meters away and cross my fingers  (seriously.  I have two credit cards, from two banks.  Two checking account cards from two different banks, and another checking card from an account that only has $200 in it for "emergencies")

It works, and now I have some cash!

The border should be opening about now, so that's where I head (this is what I've been killing time for)

At the border, the dance is pretty normal.  I have to pay 10-euro at the gate (and no way am I pulling a Lukas and arguing like on the way in).  I get two stamps from two different windows on the Senegal side, and then I'm directed to an building on the Mauritanian side.  Inside the office are the Dutch guys with the Landcruiser.  Hey!

I don't tell them about my adventures but they do ask "Why is the GPS taking us a new way across the border this time"

"dude.  this IS the same border.  it's just not the same without the Senagalese scammers!"

We all laugh, but it's true.  The place seemed so huge and "bustling" when the Senegal scam was up and running, and now that it's not this place is like a ghost town!

Through the process in this building, I have a guy helping me.  he picked me up outside, and asked if he could help walk me through.  There was no question.  Absolutely!

so through we go, and it's 55 euro to the office.  10 euro to the police.  10 euro to the next police.  5 euro at the gate.  Before we leave the building, the guy helping me asks if I want to change any money.  I ask his rate, and it's pretty good (better than what I heard outside).  I accept and we duck into an unoccupied hallway and he pulls a wad of cash from his inside pocket.  I'm not sure he's supposed to be changing money, but I'm not worried about it.

Done and done, I'm outside and almost cleared to drive into Mauritania.  First though, a vehicle inspection (believe it or not, the back window actually works for this and I can't thank it enough)

Unfortunately there's no one selling SIM cards, but I do get a few more offers to change money.  Cleared of the inspection I'm asked for my first fische!

I have to laugh at the process at this point, but I'm also thinking back to Misha not wanting to give these out.  I think I still have a stack of over 80 of these darn things.  I give the guard one, and pay the guy helping me (he'd be called a Mandoub, in Kuwait) 10 euro for the whole thing, and just like that.  All the money I pulled out of the ATM is almost gone!

Driving into the national park, it feels SO good to be free and on my way.  I'm stopped at a checkpoint I remember and a very stern guard asks about the mud (he thinks I might have been where I shouldnt have been)

"no no, Senegal!"

He laughs and I'm on my way.  There's no question though, the roads are much better this time than they were on the southbound run.

If you think back to when we first camped in Senegal, you'll remember that I threw out the rocks Katka collected from Mauritania.  At the time I told her I'd collect rocks on my northbound run, but still she never collected any more rocks after that "There's no point unless I get them ALL".  Well, I've been making good on that promise.  In empty water bottles, I have sand from the desert (for me) and I have bottles full of rocks that I've picked up from all the countries we visited.  This is a bit of a problem now, because there are NO rocks in Mauritania!

Here, take a look at this picture:

All those white dots that make those mounds look like gravel hills?

Nope.

Seashells.

Tons and tons of TINY little seashells.  Absolutely zero rocks...  I end up stopping three times, before I find ANY (pebbles, really) but Katka must have been the absolute luckiest person in the world when we stopped randomly and she collected those rocks in her paper towel. 

Eitehr way.  Glad to be done with the chore, I'm back oscar mike

And speaking of missing opportunities on the way south, we drove through this town and we all lamented at not getting a photo of the name (done!)

Otherwise there is really nothing I saw in Mauritania....  and I mean NOTHING.  You know the desert spot in "Settlers of Katan" that has nothing but sand on it?  I call that Mauritania.  (that being said, I do see some beautiful pictures come out of this country on the overlanding forums)

White line after white line, I'm bored to tears driving here but I can absolutely appreciate the fact that I'm at least driving on flat pavement again.

As I'm getting closer to the capitol city, I get stopped at a police checkpoint.  I expect the usual "fische?  petit Kadu?" before I'm sent off after handing over a pen and a fische but this guy is different.  He wants me to talk to the guy in the truck parked off to the side of the road (also a police officer)

Introductions are made and I use my usual "enna ameriki" (I'm american, in arabic) and his eyes get big.

"70,000 ouguiya" (ouguiya is Mauritania's currency)

What?

(points to truck) "rallye.  Infraction.  70,000 ouguiya"

Couple things here.  Mauritania just changed their bills.  70,000 in the old ouguiya is $20.  70,000 in the new ouguiya is $200.  I don't have 70,000.  I have 50,000 and show him as much in my wallet.   The problem is, I dont know if this is the new or old currency (which is 100% why they made it this confusing), so I either paid that cop a bribe of $140, or $14.  Either way I was allowed to go.

So there I was.  Low on fuel and headed into Nouakchott.  Wallet completely emptied by a cop...

I'm looking so hard for an ATM, that I didn't even notice that GIANT american flag on that building.  It must have been the embassy.  I did notice some obvious american tourists on foot, dodging traffic at a roundabout as they crossed the street.  They were young and I was surprised they were out and about in such a place.  I guess they could have been service members, but I wasn't in the mood to stop and chat so on I went.

Eventually I found one, but I noticed it was the same bank that ate my last card.  I held my breath as I put my bank card in this time.  Luckily it worked because I was under 1/3 tank at this point.  I pulled out 8000 in the local currency and breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.  A fillup at  a local gas station followed, and I bought an entire box of bottled water.  Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, I stashed all but 500 ouguiya in my secret truck compartment.  Having a clearer head now, I can see that the cop took $14 in bribe money.  Not bad!

I also stopped in town at a vendor (who was quite literally in the middle of the street) and bough a small Mauritanian flag and a scarf in the Mauritanian colors.  It's the type of stuff you'd wave at a soccer (football) game.  This is one of the least visited countries in the world, so I wanted to get something for the Hungarlings while I was there

A voice behind me saw me with the stuff and shouted "Mauritania!"

To which I turned around and shouted "Mauritania!" before getting back in the truck.  Time to get back on the road!

Heading north, the same way we came south I'm looking for the spot where I almost had my accident.  I never do find it, but I do decide to take a video to show how much nothing there is around here.  It's 7-minutes long, but you'll only need the first 5-seconds to get the idea:

The radio has decided to quit working at this point so I have plenty of time to get nostalgic over the memories we made over all the ground I'm backtracking on.

More police checkpoints follow, but they're the usual "fische?  petit cadeau?" and I don't get extorted again.

Passed the spot where Bananas broke down, just before the town where Lukas and I spent the day looking for the tow truck (but still a bit early in the day for my tastes) I arrive at the pont where it's time to turn off the road and into the sand to find a camp for the night

I get to the big sand dune, and even without the GPS coordinates, I can tell this is where the rally was.  Small piles of trash dot the landscape of the former site.  It looks like some people attempted to burn theirs before they left, but beer bottles and Hungarian brands of beer can be found without any effort at all.  I pull back into the space that once hosted our camp, and pitch the tent

Maaaan.  It is lonely out here.  I'm far enough out that no one can see me from the road, and the dune does a pretty good job of protecting me from the sand, but it is QUIET and lonely out here.  As much as I complained about hearing nothing but Slovakian on the way south, I'd give just about anything to have our four teams back together to empty some bottles about now.

Also, that back window has absolutely had it.  It's pretty much stuck in that position now.  Somehow I get the truck unpacked and made dinner with the jet-boil.  It's chili (two packets worth!).  Otherwise I really don't have the energy or motivation to sort an organize today.   I hang the bug zapper off the back of the truck (our little gypsy wagon) and call Mrs. Hungary on the sat phone.

After the phone call I generally fell kinda tired of everything.  I'm not ready to sleep yet, it's too late to make it to the border before it closes (which is why I stopped here and now), my stomach is full...  I decide to pour a can of fuel into the tank to stave off boredom.  When I unclamp the lid, fuel sprays EVERYWHERE!

Apparently the previous attendant filled it up, he filled it to the absolute brim.  Now that it's hot out, things expanded.  Now I have fuel all over my water box, my tent, and Katka's beige bag (it held blankets, etc).  I try to clean it with paper towels and soap, but I can not find my soap in this mess.  Instead, I just sit down.  I'm done... 

Again...

When I pick myself up, I do so by telling myself that tinkering with the truck will make me feel better.  I checked the oil and the power steering fluid.  It helped a little.

Not intending to fall asleep, I laid down in my tent and was out cold by 1900.  My alarm is set for 0400.

Goodnight everyone.

Tomorrow is Morocco.  It's all downhill from there.  With that, I think it's time for a damage report:

Here's what the 4-Runner looks like after running the B2B and driving back

Northbound +7

There I was.  Sitting passenger in my own vehicle.  Punishing the driver with my music.  A complete stranger at the wheel...

I woke up at 4am to my alarm.  The silence, the soft sand, the warm temperature, the long sleep...  This was easily the best sleep I got this whole trip.

I make myself some coffee and pack up my camp.  It's dark so I have to do everything by flashlight.  The radio not working has me a bit bothered.  I need some music to break the monotony of the long roads.  I check my fuses, but none are blown.  I check the connection on the back, but it's secure.  Not wanting to dig further, I decide to just plug in my bluetooth speaker and use that instead.  First up is a playlist I called "Butt Rock".  It's 1980's hair bands, but the speaker plays it nowhere near loud enough.

Nothin else for it, time to spin them tires!

Through the sand, and back on the pavement there's nothing special happening.  No one else is on the road, and I've got nothing to do but to notice things.  I notice that my fuel consumption kindof sucks...

I'm wondering if it's just my perception, but I was watching it yesterday too.  I also checked my tire pressures like 20-times yesterday as well, but all was good.  I'm wondering if it's just the poor quality fuel they have out here (like 85 octane, or below).

It's 3-hours to the border, and I decide I'll keep a better eye on it after my next fill-up.

At the border, I meet a Spaniard at the police checkpoint (a gate, really).  He's on foot and walking north and asks me for a ride.

"pffft, Sure!" I respond (what's one more stranger at this point).

I'm cleared and through the gate first, and on the other side I clean off my passenger seat.  I also take the opportunity to dump a jerry can in (the one fuel station between camp and the border wasn't open when I drove by).  I waited, and even checked an office that was there but the darn Spaniard was gone!

ah well, with him not there I drove through the next three checkpoints and then into the no-man's-land that exists between Mauritania and Western Sahara.  This is when I run into the Spaniard again but I have no idea how he got by me!  I also have a rule about not picking up people in no-man's-land, I did it once between borders in Ukraine and I got in a little trouble.  Funny thing is, the guy didn't even see/hear me coming!

At the Moroccan border there was a drug dog check, a passport check, and I again met the Spaniard at the customs inspection.  He said he prefers to cross and then meet on the other side (me too, man.  Me too).  He also tells me that he travels through these countries on public transit, but obviously none exists here.

Still doing the customs dance, I'm pulled over to a lot where I have to empty everything out of the back of my truck for a visual inspection.  I do, but it all has to come out the passenger door as neither the window nor the tailgate are working.  This is when drug dog #2 comes around.  he doesn't find anything.

Fiddling with the window a bit, I got it down most of the way.  I'm basking in my success when drug dog #3 comes around.  They ask to let him hop inside, and I accept.  Dog does it's thing, and now I need to repack everything for a vehicle x-ray.

This goes on for 3-pages of notes.  Morocco absolutely does NOT mess around at this border, i tell you what.  Buildings, signatures, papers, stamps.... you name it, here it is.  In spades!

I started my border crossing adventure in Mauritania at 8:30, and I have no idea what time it was when we finished but it's safe to say that the clock was in the double digits.

The Spaniard beats me through, and jumps in when I'm out the other side.  "You could have WALKED to Dakhla faster than that!" I joke.

Not far down the road we stop for gas.  Absolutely nothing of interest happens after that.  It's 4-hours to Dakhla and I'm fighting one NASTY cross wind.  My fuel consumption is 17mpg (down from 20mpg) but I decide it's not worth worrying about (especially with the wind).  200kms later I'm down to 1/2 tank.

The Spaniard's name is Miguel.  He's retired with a wife and kids.  We stop for a leg stretcher with 142kms to go to Dakhla, and he offers to drive.

Heck, why not.  I am feeling a bit sleepy. 

Poor Miguel barely fits in the driver's seat, and it does not adjust.  He over-revs the engine when we take off, and over-revs it again when he shifts into second.  Shifting to third was find, but he grinds 4th.

has this guy ever driven before???

He's into 5th at 80kph, and the engine is so low in its RPM range, it's struggling to find any grunt with which it can use to accelerate.

Miguel also can't drive in a straight line.  The cross wind is nasty, that's understandable.  But even without it, I get the feeling Miguel would be having difficulty.  I'm beginning to get the feeling that the first oncomming semi we pass, will be the end of our lives.

Nope!  one blasts by, and we survive!

We later slow for a police checkpoint, and again Miguel's at it again with the over-reving, grinding gears, and shifting too soon...  And why do I smell my clutch???

Well he's there and I'm here.  Might as well catch up on my notes and plan forward.  I only have enough Moroccan cash for 3-tanks of fuel, and I'll need all three to get to Laayoune.  I have one jerry can still full for a reserve.  Miguel is getting off in Dakhla at a crossroad, but I really feel like ditching him earlier.  His constant throttle modulation and swerving is making me car-sick, and I cant write or even think with all this going on. 

"Thats it" I decide.  "Time to punish him with my music" and I cue up "Not Texas but Not Bad"

It's mostly Waylon, Willie, Cash, and the like.  I rotate the charger between the phone and the bluetooth speaker so neither one is ever in danger of dying.

There.  We're even.

We get to the roundabout where we would exit for Dakhla (it sits on a peninsula, just off our route) and as he's slowing, he asks if I'll be continuing north.  I answer in the affirmative and he says "oh, then I'll ride with you!"

oh, mother-berker.  Are you serious?  I was actually just starting to like the pace I had going alone!

Ok, fine.  "Yeah man.  go for it"

and the dude comes to a complete stop at the roundabout.  There's a cop behind us and there is seriously nothing happening in this roundabout for us to be stopping...

GO!!!!!!!!!!

eventually he does, and it's more of the normal with him and shifting.

That's it.  No more Mr. Nice guy.  I cue up my "Texas" mix, and let him have it.  As a benefit the music does wake me up.

He asks how far I'm going today, and I tell him "Boujdour", which is a town abotu 4 hours up the road.  I tell him I'll be stopping there for the night (lie) and we'll part ways.  It's agreed and we continue.

we swapped drivers again WELL before 4-hours goes by (I think I had him in the driver's seat for about 2-hours total today, all in one sitting) and when we get out of the truck in Boujdour he again asks if I'll be continuing

"Nope!" and I hop in and close the door real quick before driving off into the sunset.

Once I'm out of sight, I do need to stop at an ATM and a store that sells SIM cards.  Katka left me with a SIM card for this area(if you remember, this is were we gave up on the idea of "one sim card shared by all") that she had purchased like 6-gigs of data for.  Each block of 1 gig requires a new code, and Katka sent me a photo of the card with the codes on it via whatsapp.  My stop at the store is to learn how to activate the first code for my phone so I can stream new music again.

The ATM was a success, and I no longer need to worry about fuel.  That is, after I stop and top up (which I do).

I pull over at a building construction site on the edge of town to make some dinner.  My idea is to make something soup-y and leave it on the passenger floor of the truck.  Then I can eat it when I want to without having to stop again.

The insane cross wind we've been experiencing has made me notice that my hood has been "looser" than normal.  It's really shaking and lifting.

I decide to pop it, and investigate why.  When I do, I can see that my hold-down latch has been completely ripped out of where it should reside:

I slide it back in, and bend the ripped metal.  This should hold, and if not then it looks like the emergency catch is working just fine.

Back on the road and I am FLYING!

I'm out of Western Sahara and into Morocco by 1930 and I'm not stopping for anything.  The soup I made turned out to be a Goulas meal, and my idea of pouring it down my throat while driving is working great.  I chase the meal with bottled water, and the mobile network means I have plenty of jams to listen to.

I do run into some fog that slows me down, but nothing's going to stop me tonight.  I've been DYING to be cut free like this, and I decide that's how I'm going to be until 1am when I ultimately decide it's time to rest.

I pull over and park on a dirt road just opposite the beach in Tan Tan and use my phone to catch everyone up.  Julius reports that Tan Tan is the beach where the Bananas got stuck, back in the beginning of the trip.

He also reports that Miroslav has broken down and is at Azir's garage.  Apparently he's been there for DAYS.  I didn't mention it, but back when I was stuck on the highway in Senegal I was really kicking myself for not running with Miroslav as I was getting reports from him that he was running over 12-hours a day at speeds up to 150kph.  When I was getting stung by bees, he was in Western Sahara already with no signs of stopping.  I guess it all caught up to him somehow.  It sucks, but now I'm too far north to do anything about it.

Dinner is Teriyaki from another freeze dried package, and it is easily the best meal I've had from one yet!

After that, it's lights out.

Northbound +8, +9, and +10

There I was.  Stabbin and Steerin'

Up at 5:30, I make my last use of the bucket.  For breakfast I make two packets of soupy stuff and will run the same strategy as yesterday.  Make it hot and wet, and pour it down my throat on the fly.  The menu will include veg carrot soup and leek dahl soup.  After that it's coffee, and a truck fluid check.  I message everyone on whatsapp and it's time to get down to business.

by 7am, I'm on the road again and full of energy.  Gas stations fill the truck up, and I fill up on bottled juices and trail mix.  I can tell I'm getting closer to civilization because previously the fuel stops had nothing in the way of "Bill nourishment" and now they're completely stocked!

Streaming music is non-stop, and I'm chewing through the data Katka sent me.  I've killed the first two gigs yesterday and will go through three more today.  Messages are sent via whatsapp when I stop for a fill up, but am otherwise on the fly!

I couldn't believe it when I hit the north coast around 10:30pm, but I did.  As we got closer these little shacks started to appear at service stations and rest stops.  They all sold tickets for the ferrys.  I bought one from one of them and was in line and just happy to have enough luck to catch such a thing.  The border process was a nothing burger, and soon I was onboard and stretched out across 5 chairs trying to catch some Z's.

I'm moving so fast now, that I don't have a single note from this part of the trip.  Even now, when I'm on the boat, I have my notebook but I'm too tired to write.  I catch the faintest of rests and the boat is already in Spain.  Here we go, folks!  Let's see if we can make Valencia!

Eh.  That was a bit ambitious, if I'm honest.  I make it somewhere near Murcia and pull over at a closed restaurant that shares a plot with a fuel station.  In the morning I'm going to run my 2-soupy-meal strategy again and fill up before another highway run.  I do take a moment to update everyone as to my position.  There's less talk now that I'm getting close to home.  Instead we keep things short and focus on how soon I'll be there.

Spain is run, and France is next.  I'm burning through it all day, only stopping when I have to.  The one picture I have from this area is kind of nice

But I'm not interested in sightseeing at this point.  I run the entire day and it starts to rain in the evening.  I decide I hate the french highway system as it goes through build up areas of their cities and the roads all twist and bend.  Furthermore their speed limits are too slow for the pace I want to run, and I've set off more than one speed camera now that it's dark and I cant see them.

except wait a minute...  I don't have a front license plate!  They're all "oncomming" cameras, and I don't have a front license plate!  I decide this was all the invitation I needed, and my foot goes flat to the floor.

Dark as hell, and even later in the day it's time to stop again. I'm in Italy now and waking up from my nights rest.  No more making my own coffee, I go inside the fuel station I've stopped at and buy four espressos to get my day started.

Italy turns to Slovenia, and Slovenia turns into Hungary.

I fire up my camera and switch it to selfie mode for one last video

(to the tune of "Thunder, by Imagine Dragons")

"And I'm drivin'

into Hungary!

Drivin into Hungry!"

(stomp stomp)

"Hungary.  Hungary. Huh-huh-Hungary!"

That's it guys.  I survived the Budapest to Bamako 2022 rallye, and all I got was this stupid story