Operation Zephyr 2024 - Emergency Services Aid Charity
In September 2024, Drivex Director and co-founder set off on a journey as a volunteer with the Emergency Aid Charity, with a mission to deliver a convoy of emergency vehicles and other kit to The Gambia in West Africa. This is Steve's tale of an epic journey......
I have always had a ‘thing’ about grand tours. Over the years my ‘various’ Jags have been to most of Western Europe, indeed my current XE has notched up several journeys as far as Spain, Germany and Switzerland, and, of course, Le Mans! Further afield, on touring holidays I have explored most of New Zealand and the East coast of Australia. But, early in 2023 I applied to join an adventure on a truly different scale…..Operation Zephyr 2024.
Organised by the Emergency Services Aid Charity (ESAC), the aim was to take a fleet of retired UK emergency vehicles to The Gambia in West Africa, where they could continue to provide valuable and needed support to that country’s emergency services. The ESAC had already completed one previous convoy in September 2022, and this second convoy was scheduled for September 2024.
I didn’t know if my application would be accepted, the qualifying criteria was that volunteers should be from an emergency services or military background, and I was neither. But, I had previously worked in The Gambia, have my LGV Class 1 and 2 licences, experience in driving in off-road environments, run my own business working with clients in managing occupational road risk and work as an off-road instructor with Land Rover, so I was hopeful. In February 2023 I was accepted, and so began an 18-month preparation……
UK departure
Departure Day arrived, September 11, 2024. I left home (Isle of Wight) on the fast catamaran to Portsmouth Harbour. Two trains later I arrived at Worcester and spent the night at Bluebell Farm b & b near Upton upon Severn. I took an evening stroll into the village for a trusty cider and pizza and managed to get some sleep before the proper journey commenced the next day….
The convoy had been assembled at the old RAF station at Defford, now a police training establishment. In total there were 20 vehicles in the convoy, split into three smaller convoys for logistical reasons. There were a total of six fire trucks, two 4x4s including one towing a rescue boat on a trailer, and twelve ambulances. In total there were about 65 of us making the trip, mostly from the UK but also from as far away as Iceland, USA and Australia!
My allocated vehicle was a 20-year-old Volvo fire truck, an ex-North Wales Fire and Rescue driver training vehicle with only 32,000 miles on the clock! My co-driver, ‘Parky’ arrived at Defford and we set about getting to know what was to become our trusty steed. Parky and I had never met before, and it turned out he was also a Land Rover instructor at a different centre to me. Although there was a lot of additional donated equipment on board, such as boots, harnesses and helmets, as well as several large jerry cans, there was plenty of storage space for our personal kit, and we stowed three solar showers on the roof ready for future use.
Our Volvo was allocated to Convoy 3; the other vehicles in our convoy were three Mercedes fire trucks and a Mitsubishi L200 towing the rescue boat. Due to the vehicles in our convoy, we would be slower than the other two convoys and thus we also had Alec, the convoy mechanic in our group.
We left Defford early-afternoon for the drive to Portsmouth. Parky and I shared the drive, giving us both the chance to get a feel for the Volvo. Within our convoy, we discovered that our Volvo was slower than the three Mercs, topping out on the speed-limiter at 52mph. It didn’t take us long to discover that, within the array of blue light and scene lighting switches, was the speed-limiter override……from slowest we were now the fastest!
We arrived at the international port at Portsmouth and went through the border controls ready for embarkation on our ferry to Santander in northern Spain, a crossing scheduled for about 30 hours. The Bay of Biscay behaved itself and we had a calm crossing with a sunny day at sea. A pleasant surprise was that Parky and I qualified as ‘freight’ drivers, and all our on-board meals were free! We disembarked in Santander early Saturday morning and after about an hour clearing customs we picked up our other two crew members, Scott and Callum, who had to travel as foot passengers from Portsmouth. It so happened that this was Callum’s birthday, and the Volvo was decorated accordingly!
Spain and Gibraltar
Eventually, we left Santander on a beautiful sunny day, our destination for that evening being the town of Badajoz, some 411 miles and what was supposed to be our longest day of driving. Although our Volvo had the speed limiter defeat switch, the three Mercs didn’t so our speed in Convoy 3 was still restricted to 56mph. We also discovered the air-con didn’t work, so it was windows open all the way!
We eventually arrived at our planned overnight stop in Badajoz, a Spanish Police training academy where we were allocated bunks in the dormitory. Our three convoys had made quite a sight travelling across Spain, and they even made the evening news on Spanish TV. We barely had time to unpack our overnight bags before we were whisked off in minibuses to a local restaurant to be fed (and ‘watered’). We had no idea what the drill was and course after course kept arriving…..bread, rice, chicken and finally the full farmyard on a plate! We were stuffed!
On the journey down, one of the Renault ambulances developed a turbocharger fault and was severely delayed, one of the Merc fire trucks and Alec our mechanic from the Mitsubishi in our convoy, stayed with them. They eventually made it to Badajoz around midnight. There was a real determination that all vehicles would complete the journey.
The next day was another sunny one, and we made a relaxed start to the moderately short drive of 251 miles to just outside of Gibraltar. The ambulance with the mechanical issues now joined our convoy, and its lack of turbo assistance meant the convoy speed on any uphill was reduced to not much more than a crawl.
By early evening we arrived at our campsite, the marina just outside the border to Gibraltar, and rejoined the other two convoys. As our vehicles were being exported from the UK and passing through the EU, they could only enter and leave Spain once, so we could not take them into Gibraltar.
That evening we were invited to a reception at the Gibraltar branch of the International Police Association (IPA). We all set off for the short walk to the border and piled into taxis for the trip to the IPA. A splendid reception and al-fresco barbecue ensued and again plenty of ‘refreshments’ were sampled. This was a great evening where the whole group started to really get to know each other. I do remember the taxi journey back to the Spanish border but forgot where I left my Jaguar cap and only realised I had lost it the next morning after a night in my tent.
Due to other vehicles experiencing mechanical issues we were going to spend the next day at leisure while they were ‘fixed’. The MAN fire truck was experiencing starter problems which was traced to a loose battery connector. The Ford Ranger had developed an oil leak in the rear diff’ and this was welded shut at a local fire station. The poorly ambulance was unfixable in this period as no parts could be sourced.
I was thinking about my lost Jaguar cap and phoned the IPA to see if they had it but no luck. I decided to go and check for myself so walked back across the border into Gibraltar and to the IPA, about 4.5 miles and sure enough, no luck. As I walked back through the pretty town I was starting to look for a new cap of some sort and saw a new Range Rover and so looked on my phone for a JLR dealer…..and sure enough there was one literally round the corner! Five minutes later, suitable replacement headwear on my head! Result! I set off once again on foot to return to the convoy. A late afternoon paella and cold beer was just perfect.
The plan that evening was for the convoy to set off for a local supermarket for fuel and provisions, and then to camp overnight in the port at Algeciras, ready for the morning ferry to Tanger-Med in Morocco. We made it to the port about midnight and set up a camp, although it was so warm most of just slept on our camp beds or hammocks under the stars, didn’t bother with tents.
Morocco and Western Sahara
Stuck !!
The next day (Tuesday 17 September) started off well enough with the short crossing from Spain to Morocco. In terms of distance and time this was similar to Dover - Calais, the main difference being that our personal Moroccan immigration procedures were carried out on the ferry. Once this was done a pleasant crossing was made, although the sunshine had given way to an overcast and cooler day.
On the previous convoy in 2022, three days had been lost at the port in Morocco clearing customs. So, for our trip three days had been allocated for the same, one of which had already been used in Gibraltar. Immediately on disembarking the ferry, passports and vehicle documents were inspected and after a brief delay we were on our way along the port access road. A mile or so later, we arrived at the main customs point and joined a queue. Most of the vehicles coming off the ferry were Moroccan cars and vans, overloaded with all kinds of ‘stuff’ and taking a while to be called through for customs inspection. Ominously, our convoy was directed to the side to form our own queue. This was Tuesday lunch time.
The ESAC had been meticulous in establishing all the correct documentation for the convoy, with the UK FCO and the embassies of the countries we were passing through. All our personal immigration documentation and visas had been successfully completed on the ferry. However, it appeared that the customs officials were not happy to allow our convoy vehicles through with the documentation provided and needed clearance from ‘higher up’. Unfortunately, this happened to be a Moroccan public holiday, and there was nobody available ‘higher up’.
We were advised this could be a long wait, and we formed our convoy into a group at the side of the waiting area of the port and set up camp. And we waited. There were basic toilet facilities, no showers and no shops. We all spent the day finding ways to pass the time, playing cards, cricket, sodding about, always in good spirits and getting along with the local customs officers in a good-hearted way. Our convoy was a curious sight, a group of UK emergency vehicles parked up like a western wagon train. As travellers, we were permitted to pass back and forth beyond the border control as our personal immigration had been cleared. Just beyond the customs point were more toilets, a SIM card store and a small café.
By early evening the café had sold out of food! We had all brought plenty of provisions and water and ‘adult beverages’ so we made the best of it, and again it proved a time for this group of strangers to start to form a very strong bond with each other. This delay was longer than anyone had anticipated.
In the end, we spent three nights camped in the port and eventually received clearance to go from the Moroccan Foreign Ministry late on Friday afternoon. Early Friday evening we were packed up and were in the queue for our vehicles to first be X-rayed (even this process was delayed, as one of the local cars on the X-ray ramp decided to not release its handbrake!) and then go through customs inspection. This process took several hours and once completed, the convoy insurance had to be arranged. Eventually, just at midnight, we were finally on the road!
The original journey schedule had been redrawn several times during the delay in the port, so, to make up time, our new destination was a camp site just outside Marrakesh, a mere 382 miles! The night drive was generally easy going, mostly peage motorways, and driving duties equally shared between Parky and myself. As dawn broke, we could see we were driving in an almost Martian-like landscape, boulder-strewn desert with some hardy vegetation and hills of various heights. There was little sign of human habitation apart from the road itself and light traffic. We must have been a curious sight to the locals.
Just before 9.00 am we arrived at Dar Bari campsite, hidden from the road and accessed by a dusty driveway. Our fire trucks were a tight squeeze through the gateway, and Rob in the Merc ahead of us decided to scrape the wall, but no damage done apart from a broken side marker light and dented pride! The camp site was an oasis of olive trees, and the ambulance convoys had arrived ahead of us. A cold beer, a cold shower and tent up…..and a two-hour sleep before a scheduled departure of midday. Inside the tent soon became hot as the sun gained strength, and any more sleep would have been impossible, so by midday we were back in the saddle and heading off.
Our destination was now Tan Tan Plage, a coastal town 348 miles further south. This was going to be another long drive including crossing the Atlas Mountains. As we rejoined the main road south, the Atlas Mountains soon appeared in the distance, and the blue skies became more overcast. The scenery was amazing, but Limpy was really struggling on the uphills and progress was slower than the previous night drive. Regular fuel stops were made, and these were generally the only breaks we took, toilet facilities were becoming more ‘African,’ mostly of the long drop variety, I’ll say no more!
We were planning a provisions stop at Agadir. By late afternoon we reached the outskirts of Agadir and descended on a Carrefour supermarket and parked up in the car park. We were all getting tired by this time, the stop seemed all too short, and we were soon back on the road. The outskirts of Agadir seemed to go on for miles, busy, bustling communities, typical North African all with that slightly French influence. As darkness started to fall, the number of villages we passed through reduced, and the road once again became a ribbon of tarmac lit only by our headlights with the hint of sandy, rock-strewn desert either side.
Late into the evening we reached the steep, twisty climb towards the village of Lakhssas. Any concerns of how Limpy was going to cope were soon dismissed as we were following a very heavy, slow lorry with no hope of making a pass. Once in the village another fuel stop was made and once back on the road we soon caught up the slow lorry again for the descent from the mountain pass. We carried on through and eventually reached our destination at 1.30am; Hotel Camping Atlantique Tantan. For the first time since our first night in Spain, an indoor sleep, not on a bed but a sofa. A solid sleep ensued!
Morning departure was scheduled for 10.00am. On another hot sunny morning, for us in convoy 3, departure time was soon put back, one of the other ambulances (another Renault) had developed a severe oil leak from the sump and was refusing to start on the starter motor. Convoy 1 and 2 set off on time and Alec put a temporary seal around the leak but this would need time to cure. In the meantime, we took all the remaining vehicles in convoy 3 and fuelled them up and bought large quantities of engine oil for the leaking ambulance, which was now being christened Leaky.
We eventually set off about 12.30, initially making frequent stops to check on Leaky’s oil levels. During driving there appeared to be minimal loss but whenever slowing down or stopping the oil was pouring out. Nevertheless, the loss level was manageable, and whenever a stop was necessary Leaky’s drivers (Jane and Jazmine) were instructed to switch off the engine, which then required a pushing crew to bump start it again when restarting.
Although never more than a few miles from the Atlantic Ocean, the road crossed a Sahara Desert landscape, lots of sand, sometimes rocky and hilly, large dunes in the distance, an endless blue, cloudless, sky and temperature rising. The roads were excellent, mostly flat, good dual carriageway and light traffic. Our destination for the evening had not been fully confirmed, our first waypoint was the town of Laayoune some 180 miles from Tan Tan.
Laayoune is in the territory of Western Sahara, mostly administered by Morocco (so no border crossing) but ownership of the territory is disputed between Morocco and Mauritania. By late afternoon we arrived at Laayoune and rejoined the other two convoys in the town centre, and headed for a MacDonalds, which in this remote location, was just like any other MaccyD in the world! We feasted and stocked up with a MaccyD supper for the next part of the journey, which was across a far more remote part of Western Sahara.
All three convoys were called to a refuelling and strategy meeting at a fuel station just outside of the town. All vehicles were brimmed with diesel as were all the Jerry cans. Instead of making an overnight camp, the decision was made to drive through the night to the border crossing into Mauritania, a distance of just over 500 miles. This was a daunting prospect, but everyone was in good spirits and totally up for it.
The plan was to reach the Mauritania border in the morning just as it opened. If it could be achieved, the convoy would have recovered all the time lost at Tanger-Med and be back on schedule. A strict two-hour maximum driving time was established and anyone who could drive was called into action. If anyone needed a break a stop would be made. All three convoys set off together.
The early evening was stunning, the sun dropped low, and the temperature was perfect. Sand drifted across the road as we left Laayoune and once again entered the desert. The road south was now mostly reasonable single carriageway, mostly flat and low traffic volumes. There were very few signs of human habitation.
As is the case in these latitudes, the sun quickly set, and darkness quickly followed. As usual, convoys one and two pulled ahead and our convoy three was left to set our own pace. Limpy was running well with the lack of gradients and Leaky was enjoying the cooler temperatures. We were making reasonable progress, the two-hour driving shifts passed quickly, and sleep was surprisingly easy laid out in the back of the fire truck. Nonetheless, tiredness was affecting us all, and everyone was experiencing hallucinations from the hypnotic effects of following the lights of the vehicle ahead and how the headlights and reflected light played tricks on our mind. At one point I’m sure I saw Santa and his reindeer coming out of the darkness, and the total blackness to the left and right of the road gave the impression that we were driving through a dark forest. The light from our headlights reflected off the trim above the windscreen and gave the effect of a sunrise happening above a distant mountain range up ahead.
We kept on going, two-hourly stops and refuelling whenever possible. Eventually, the first dawn light appeared and revealed more rocky desert landscape, occasionally some strange rock formations continued the extra-terrestrial feel of the place. But, we made it! At about 8.30am we drove into the border town of Guergarat and joined the queue of cars and lorries waiting for the border crossing to open. The temperature rose quickly as the sun climbed into a bright blue sky.
Mauritania
How can it take a whole day to cross a border? In Africa it seems to be the norm. The border to Mauretania opened and our convoy progressed in the queue. All vehicles were again x-rayed and given a good going over by customs sniffer dogs. Once this was done, passport control was completed and after a couple of hours we could leave Morocco. Because of the dispute over Western Sahara, there is a 1-mile, unmade road, that crosses ‘no man’s land’ to the Mauritania customs point. The ‘road’ was a mixture of sand, rocks, boulders and holes and the land either side of the road is mined. Entering Mauretania was another challenging experience……simply because there was a lot of waiting, no facilities and blistering heat. The temperature was around 45C. The whole process took about 7-hours, backwards and forwards between police and customs officials.
We were eventually on the road again with about an hour of daylight left……and a warning to be aware, Mauretania’s roads are notoriously bad! Our destination was Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania and a mere 278 miles. We had a hotel stop organised with a promise of hot food on arrival so there was no option but to carry on driving through the night. Initially the roads were ok and after a fuel stop we pressed on……but as darkness fell the roads turned into a vehicle destruction test with ruts, craters, crumbling verges the norm. There was occasional oncoming traffic, as well as being overtaken by faster vehicles or having to overtake slower ones, many with poor lighting or no lights all! Add in many broken down and abandoned vehicles and frequent police check points where we had to provide copies of all of our travel documents and copies of the V5.
Eventually, our destination was reached about 3.30 am, another hard drive. True to their word, the hotel laid on a hot meal (camel stew) and cold bottled water (Mauritania is a dry country, so no beers this time). After dinner, a shower and bed meant a good sleep was had by all, ready for the next day start at 09.30am, heading for the border crossing into Senegal, about 150 miles further south…..
Stuck, again!!
By daylight it was clear Mauretania seemed a desperate place on the whole, with occasional areas recognisable as developed. The industrial area around the port was dusty and intense and it was still hot and humid. Eventually we moved out of the town and spent a few hours on rural roads heading towards the proposed border crossing point at Barrage de Diama. The border between Mauritania and Senegal is the Senegal River.
The route chosen by our esteemed leaders took us on to a graded road in the Parc National du Diawling, we had covered 122 miles. The track was firm and predictable, largely flat and unrutted apart from short stretches of ‘washboard’. All good, except our convoy consisted of four fire engines all weighing over10 tons, two poorly ambulances and the Mitsubishi L200 towing a rescue boat. After about three miles the track opened into a man-made embankment crossing a swamp.
Parky and I looked at each other with concern, to the left and right there were huge thunderstorms growing bigger and getting closer. Soon enough, they came down on us and in minutes the ‘road’ turned into a quagmire…..every vehicle stuck except the L200. The rain kept coming for a good few hours and finally persisted just as it was getting dark. In the downpour we were still attempting self-recovery, but the darkness put an end to a hopeless task.
We were in mosquito heaven on a soft, muddy track with a flooding swamp either side. Tents were a no-go, so we had no option but to camp in the vehicles with our mosquito nets butchered to cover open windows in a hot and humid night. The hope was the track would dry out enough to progress the next day although the radar predicted more storms.
Thankfully the rain stayed away overnight, although sleeping was nigh on impossible. In the early hours I took a stroll, partly through just not being able to sleep and partly to just ‘do something’. In the darkness I met Alec and Rob coming the other way, and the three of us decided to walk the track ahead to see how things looked. In the dark, by red torch light, visibility was not good, but things looked bad regarding the state of the track. There were large, deep drainage gulleys which would be too large for the fire trucks to cross. Just before I bumped into them, Rob had been surprised by a family of warthogs! We eventually returned to our vehicles to await the arrival of dawn.
The morning was bright and sunny, and very soon the temperature was rising again. We we were still some 20 miles away from the end of the track and the border crossing. We heard that the other two convoys were also stuck, but much further up the track.
As the morning passed the track did start to very slowly dry, but the crust on top was not going to be firm enough to support the fire trucks any time soon. Parky and I took the L200 to ‘reccy’ the track ahead. After a mile and a half, it was evident that forwards was not an option…..the gulleys and terrain were just too deep and soft for the trucks. So, plans turned to returning the way we had come, about 5 miles back to tarmac.
Coms were difficult but not impossible as there was sparse mobile coverage. We started to decamp after lunch giving the track as much time to dry as possible. The lead fire engine was in a difficult position near to the edge of the embankment, so the first task was to use the L200 to help straighten it out. It appeared our best option was to reverse back the way we had come. We started off and although some progress was made there were still soft sticky patches where piggy-back assistance was required between each vehicle. By late afternoon we had managed to turn each vehicle around but were making very slow progress.
During the day the ESAC team had been liaising with the park rangers and the two forward convoys had been recovered to the border crossing. At about 4pm, two locals arrived with a large tractor to assist the recovery of our convoy back the way we had come. They worked with us for nearly twelve hours but by 4am they were exhausted, caked in mud and running low on diesel. Our vehicles were scattered all along the track ….. none of them as far as the road.
In our Volvo we were nearest to the road but still some way short. We spent another night in the truck with our improvised mosy nets and keeping in touch with the other crews by radio. Another night-time reccy in the L200 showed the road was still 1.5 miles further on and the other vehicles in our convoy were between 1 and 1.5 miles further behind. None of us could make any self-propelled progress in the mud.
When daylight returned it was evident that the recovery operation had taken its toll on the two ambulances, and they wouldn’t be able to continue. Their crews and belongings were added into the fire trucks. The L200 and the boat trailer had also sustained damage that would need to be rectified before proceeding once we were back on hard ground.
By late morning the tractor guys returned and eventually by late afternoon all the fire engines and the L200 / boat were recovered to the graded road that was sufficient to support their weight. Repairs to the braking system on the boat trailer ensued, basically removing the brake shoes which had become seized on the drums. And then a real surprise! Some people from the British consulate in Senegal had been made aware of our situation and arrived unannounced with fresh bread, canned tuna and ice-cold water ….. that was one of the best meals of the entire trip!
Eventually we set off for the border town of Rosso, a drive of some 55 miles. The aim was to make an overnight hotel stop and then make the crossing into Senegal on the river ferry. These were a tough few days and, although the problems of being ‘temporarily restricted from moving’ are familiar, there were a couple of occasions where fire engines were at risk of toppling down the embankment and, being in the location we were in, that would have been a serious problem. We were all lucky but previous training and the team’s already acquired skills meant luck was more on our side than not.
Once convoy 3 had regrouped…..sadly having to leave Leaky and Limpy behind (for future recovery and delivery to The Gambia) we set off for the hotel just outside the border town of Rosso. Due to Mauritanian laws, we were not allowed to share hotel rooms unless married, so on arrival were all shown to our own rooms. I have never enjoyed a shower so much; I thought I would never be rid of the swamp mud!! Once in an ice-cold, air-conditioned room I was out for the count and completely slept through the overnight storm that ripped through, removing part of the hotel roof and tearing down streetlights and trees outside.
Next morning it was ‘full clean’ clothes top to bottom. After breakfast the overnight storm was apparent with some of the vehicles parked in water and more self-recovery operations needed. After a mile or so we joined the freight queue for the ferry into Senegal at about 10am …. and we never moved until after 3pm. Our so called ‘fixer’ was a waste of space and it ultimately seemed to come down to another intervention from ambassador level to override the backhander shenanigans that were prevalent. Despite the official instruction from our fixer and the police in attendance to allow only the first three of our vehicles through……our trusty Volvo being vehicle 4. I looked at Parky and said ‘sod that’ and hit the accelerator with police and officials waving us to stop……not a chance!! We joined another queue for the ferry, and it was fun to cause a problem for those in ‘officialdom’ who had given us such grief. We crossed the river about 5pm for a crossing of about 10 minutes.
Senegal
As an Isle of Wight resident and a seasoned traveller, I have made many ferry crossings by vehicle before, but never one where you had to drive into the river to reach the ferry! Finally, we were in Senegal……where usual border conditions were resumed, and it wasn’t until 11.45pm that we finally cleared customs.
We came across very few European travellers in this part of the world, but while waiting for our customs clearance, a British family appeared with a UK Toyota HiLux and offroad trailer! They were aiming to travel all the way down to South Africa and then as far as possible up the East coast of Africa…..and we thought we were on an adventure! When they made our acquaintance something that had been puzzling them was resolved…..they had been planning to take the same unmade road we had been on and had to turn back the day after we had left because it was now closed, but they could not figure out why two UK ambulances were abandoned on the track!!
And so, we started on another night drive. Our destination was Kaolak, 258 miles, where we were due to rendezvous with convoys 1 and 2. The night drive in Senegal was largely uneventful……driver changes every hour or two and generally good roads by African standards. Even peage motorways at times.
We arrived at our destination by mid-morning, and the welcome from convoy 1 and 2 was amazing! They lined up in a ‘guard of honour’ with lots of cheers and waving in and emotional reunion with our fellow travellers!! We learned that the fire trucks in convoy 1 and 2, the MAN and the Iveco, had also been lost to the swamp, one with clutch failure and one with a radiator issue. At the time of writing, the four abandoned vehicles have all since been recovered and will have new homes in The Gambia and Mauritania emergency services!
A quick shower and breakfast and we were on the road again…..firstly to the border with The Gambia, and the coastal town of Serrekunda. Only 85 miles, the finish line was in sight.
The Gambia
All three convoys arrived at the border with The Gambia about lunchtime. Again, warm sunshine but this time, The Gambia authorities were expecting us, and the formalities at the border were quick and efficient. Once cleared, we had a police escort, and it was ‘blues and twos’ through the villages on the way to the last ferry for the journey, across the Gambia River. Locals were lining the roads as we made our way, and then it starts to hit home what a difference our efforts would make to the smallest country in Africa. While we waited for the ferry, we were in high spirits and a group photo was taken, that photo is one of my favourite memories of the trip.
Somehow, all sixteen of our remaining vehicles and crew were crammed on board the ferry and we made the crossing together. The Gambia is split in two by the Gambia River, and the first bridge is many miles upstream. The rescue boat in our convoy was such an important piece of equipment since patients could now be brought across the river when the ferry was not operating. Once disembarked, Convoy 3 was given the honour of leading the group to our destination, the Tamala Beach Resort in Serrekunda.
I had previously worked in The Gambia in 2016, and many places we passed were familiar, but it was also striking how much development there had been in that time. New roads, shopping centres and restaurants were noticeable, and the resort was impressive by West African standards.
Our bookings had been held open since we had lost about three days since entering Mauritania. Check-in was efficient and we finally emptied our trusty Volvo of all our possessions and found our rooms. A couple of hours later, there was one last journey for us to make, again in one long convoy, we were to take all the vehicles to the Gambia Fire and Rescue Service HQ. A drive of about ten minutes, and that was it, I had done my last drive in a vehicle I had literally lived in for two and a half weeks.
Over the next few days, there were various presentations including the formal handover of the vehicles to their new owners. At the handover there were many dignitaries, including the British Ambassador and various members of The Government of The Gambia. For the fist time in my life I received a medal, from The Gambia, and a Certificate of Appreciation from a grateful nation.
There was also time to unwind and reflect (with my new family and a beer or two) on the journey we had shared and the life changing memories we had made. I finally flew back to the UK by way of stopovers in Casablanca and Barcelona and arrived home on 5 October. I had covered 3,029 driven miles, visited 7 countries, completed 5 ferry crossings and 3 international flights. But before I had even reached home, our Volvo was the first of the convoy to be involved in a shout, helping deal with an electrical fire in a private house. Would I do it again? DEFINITELY !!!!
Our trusty Volvo in its new home.
Steve Cocks