driving us to distraction

Solomon appeared to be honoured to lead a convoy of westerners and took our safety rather seriously.

When lurching round corners he would put on his respective indicator in order to provide us with a little warning of the impending challenge. This little trick took us a while to unravel and upon seeing him signal we would immediately select the indicator in question before scouring the horizon for the well hidden tributary. Thankfully we didn’t happen across a left hand bend that required us to take a right turn – presumably this would have warranted a flash of his hazards.

I’d describe how difficult it is to follow a car without brake lights however I fear I’m running out of time.

dancing ladies

Spent an hour unwinding in the hotel room – well actually we were glued to the dancing ladies channel. The concept is simple, quite alluring and rather addictive; when combined with an interactive element (haven’t quite got our heads around the aspect of control the texters wield) you have a sure fire winner.

The principle is simple and involves filling a room – think Top of the Pops 1990 – with a number of Arabian women, clad them in western clothing before making them dance to a horrific collection of records. Many of the ladies appear exhausted, some look totally disinterested, a few lack any assimilation of rhythm however the dance floor is graced by a number of emerging stars.

Our current theory is that the channel is a form of cruel punishment distributed to thieves and adulterers.

one step from gadaffi

I nearly forgot to mention the fact that we practically met the big man himself. After luring us into a false sense of security our Land Rover enthusiast unleashed yet another thunderbolt. Whilst sipping our coffee within his garden he pulled out a black & white photograph showing his brother sat shoulder to shoulder with Colonel Gadaffi. It turned out that we were in the presence of greatness in the form of a Commanding Naval Admiral.

knight rider

After a little gentle persuasion Solomon continued to lead the convoy past sunset. His repeated claims of tourists being rewarded with imprisonment if caught driving after sunset fell a little short of the truth as we were continually waved through a host of police checkpoints. I assume his dislike of night driving has more to do with his eyes judging from an array of appalling decisions combined with the fact that he is unable to read the code on the reverse of his pay-as-you-go vouchers.

After circling the same roundabout twice in our destination town of Toubruk it became clear that Solomon was lost yet again. Upon screeching to a halt outside an ornate carpet shop we were soon rescued from a long evening chasing unknown tarmac ribbons by a fellow Land Rover enthusiast. This act of chivalry clearly ran in his family as he proceeded to describe the daring wartime rescue of two wounded British pilots during World War II.

After a short show and tell session our knight in shining armour whisked us off to a local hotel before informing us that he would act as our guide for the evening.

rain glorious rain

Soundtrack to the rain soaked roads: Willy Mason. Judge our mood yourselves.

english squatters

Arrived at our destination after a gruelling 10-hour drive only to be greeted with a town the world forgot. Pinched between the Mediterranean Sea and the litter strewn desert Ben Jaward had little to offer a group of weary travellers.

In order to calm the nerves of our guide we were left to pitch our tents in the car park of a 24-hour truck stop thereby ensuring his safety within the throngs of visitors. However, upon realising our situation the café owner invited us to sleep – or should I say squat – in the unfinished first floor of his bustling café. The roughly concreted floor was littered with chicken carcases but at least we were given a little protection from the storm which had begun to rage outside.

rome was clearly built in a day

The ancient Roman city of Leptis Magna is Libya’s singular tourist attraction – quite a feat in such an expansive country. However we were not left disappointed, the sheer scale and beauty of which puts Rome firmly in the shade. Whilst we were exploring the cobbled streets Solomon was hawking necklaces out of the rear of his car.

holiday hotspot

Though we were expecting a rather random week with what appeared to be a cowboy tourist outfit I don’t think anyone was expecting it to get so random, so quickly.

Our first port of call was a beauty spot on the Mediterranean coast; relaxing you might think, stunning you might expect. No so. The beach looked as if it had been hit by a tsunami just yesterday. Litter was strewn as far as the eye could see and there, centre stage, stood a toilet concreted into the surrounding sand. However, our evening’s excitement was far from over.  Our overnight camp revealed itself to be an illegal drinking den – something we had been previously told to avoid at all costs.

hot pursuit

In order to enjoy a relaxed leisurely holiday in the popular tourist destination that is Libya one has to be escorted by a guide. In light of our newfound love of the desert we opted for the 7-day camping tour led by an experienced guide in his desert prepared 4×4.

Reality often comes as a harsh blow and upon entering Libya we were dealt an all too common thump. Though our guide was in fact a desert dweller he had yet to venture far into the dunes, was unable to function after nightfall and his wife would not let him – nor us – sleep in the wild. Our lead vehicle was equally disappointing and is far more at home in 1980’s American suburbia.

Solomon Facts:

7 children
2 wives (I fear he had a hand in his first wife’s untimely departure)
Can speak 4 languages
Lives amongst the dunes in the great sand sea
Sleeps in his car as he abhors hotel rooms
Has yet to explore his own country

fugitives

Contrary to popular belief we are not on the run from the authorities.