.jpg "Chris Watson - provider of parts for the Polo")
Sold at auction
By Stan | January 26, 2009
The Polo went up for auction yesterday, and was knocked down for 26,000 Gambian Dalasi. This means that our £150 car sold for £884 in Gambia!
Not bad - although the stars are Team Griffin from Ireland. Their Mercedes went for over £2,300 and they paid less than £100 for it.
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Day 17 - Nouakchott
By Stan | January 16, 2009
We left the village behind for security reasons the previous day, but despite that, someone had been in the camp during the night. Fred had heard someone moving around, and in the morning spotted footprints coming into and leaving the camp again. He followed these, and they met up with camel prints some distance away. Nothing had been taken, and all was well with the cars.
We were a bit more relaxed starting up this morning, even though we knew that the Pajero was sick. We thought that the Mercedes belonging to the Kiss the Guru’s team of Mike and Jake would be able to tow it, but Sidi had other ideas. He spent about half an hour trying to get the car running in gear, and eventually set off in it to the main road about 1-2 km away. Some time later we followed, and the rest decided that it was time to go, and came along about 15 minutes later.
Since we were all heading back onto tarmac, one of our jobs this morning was to re-inflate the tyres. Most of this was done with an electric compressor, but the pressure gauge on this was not accurate, and so all the tyres were finished off with a foot pump. Our nearside front tyre was almost flat when we got up, so we had to virtually totally inflate this wheel. I was a bit concerned about this tyre, but it seemed okay once we had air in it. There were still a few sandy bits to cross before we got to the tarmac, but this was fairly easy to cross using the techniques we had learnt over the previous days.
We had been told before we began this trip, that sand would get everywhere. This warning had not really prepared us for the event however - during the desert run we decided that the most apt team name was “Sand in ma’ Crack”. The problem sand that is not the sort of material you see on the beach in Britain, but is a very fine dust that is lifted by the wind or by the cars. This dust gets into all the electrical gadgets, in the vanes in the car radiator (reducing the cooling effect) and on every surface. We were lucky in that our cameras kept working, but many stopped, particularly the autofocus. We did see the hinges and even the steering column on the car start to squeak and become more difficult to use. I had put my mobile phone is a sealing plastic bag, but when the phone needed charging, then I had to open the bag. Phil’s phone got no signal in Mauritania, so it stayed in plastic throughout the desert.
The run to Nouakchott involved a number of police or army checkpoints. Sidi helped get us through these, handing out the fiches we had ready, and in general the reception was very friendly at each of these checks. After about 50km the clutch on the Pajero finally gave up, and so the Mercedes was attached and towed the vehicle the rest of the way.
Mike and Jake had got the Mercedes a matter of days before they left, but were disappointed to have the front suspension fail a matter of miles after setting out from London. This delayed them by two days, and to make matters worse, the car was broken into in the compound it was stored in overnight. This meant they lost some of their gear for the trip.
Despite that, they set out and caught us all up in Morocco - hot wiring the car each morning to get it started. We also had to push the car on many occasions to start it, as the battery was pretty shot as well.
Most of the taxis in this part of Africa are Mercedes, and so this car was very desirable. Despite its condition, Mike and Jake were offered up to €3,000 for it on occasion. Many offers were for less, but there were a lot of them.
Travelling with Sidi was a challenge for them both. Sidi’s English is lacking, and he uses a lot of hand signals and simple words. Understanding these has been difficult. An example was “stop” means slow down, while “stop, stop, stop” means stop. If they did not understand the order, then Sidi would get quite angry. Mike and Jake would compete for who sat in the back, rather than for who would drive.
The run to Nouakchott was only just over 100km from joining the tarmac, and we were there for about 11:30am. Sidi led us to accommodation on the road into town called the Auberge Sahara. This seems to be a standard stopping place for many groups, and indeed there were two challenge cars there - both owned by Latvians. They were trying to get rid of their cars, so they could fly home. Within a few minutes, Dimitri and Stan had agreed to take over The Pompiers Lada, and drive that to Banjul - even though it needed a new rear suspension. A local mechanic was already trying to find one, and indeed did get the suspension replaced.
Fixing the clutch on the Pajero was not such a simple task, as this type of vehicle is not common in this area. John then tried to find a buyer for the car, but even that was not forthcoming, so the Pajero was left behind, sat outside the Auberge, looking rather lonely. Sidi was taking ownership of this and the Scorpio, so hopefully he will get it repaired and make some use out of it.
The Latvians’ story was not so encouraging. Like us, they had gone through the desert with a guide, but after the first night, two of the cars had had their petrol contaminated - one with caustic and the other with water. This meant the cars had to be left behind and given to their guide (who they no longer trusted). I think another car failed during the desert run, so this was very disheartening. From a group of six cars, three were lost.
All the cars needed to get some more insurance, as we had been in Mauritania longer than we had intended. I went with Sidi to the insurance office in the centre of town, but this was closed until the next day. We also went to some travel agents and also to an office supplies shop to get some photocopying done. Throughout the town were riot police standing and waiting. The reason for this was the situation in Gaza, and apparently there had been a demonstration outside the Israeli Embassy the day before. I was quite surprised that Israel had an embassy in Mauritania, but that was the story. Certainly the locals were very supportive of the Palestinians. Indeed the Norwegian’s car had been stoned the previous day (presumably because they were white), and then the police fired some rubber bullets at the car as well. Despite this, everything seemed quiet while I was in town.
As we travelled through town, Sidi pointed out the only church I saw in Mauritania - a Catholic Cathedral. If he had not pointed it out, I would not have realised it was there, although its architecture was different to the normal buildings in Nouakchott - much more modern looking.
The Auberge Sahara is a typical back-packers hostel, but it had hot showers and one European toilet (luxury). We all cleaned ourselves up and then ordered some lunch. This meant an order for about 14 or 15 people - mainly for meat tagine. We must have waited two hours before the meal arrived! Fortunately we were in no hurry, and sitting in the shade, talking was very relaxing.
The accommodation varied. There are some rooms for rent, but there are also communal rooms and tents on the roof. Phil and I bagged a two person tent, while others moved into a communal tent. All was well, except for the Muslim call to prayer. This started at about 4:30am and continued from various Mosques until about 6:00am, when we were able to fall asleep again.
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Day 16 - The beach run
By Stan | January 13, 2009
Despite Sidi’s promise to wake us early, it was 7:00am when we were awakened. This meant that we did not get on the road until 8:15am, and we were supposed to reach the beach before 10:00am.
Today’s drive was interesting and eventful. To get to the beach, we had been told we needed to cross several sand dunes. One of these involved a hairpin bend – although the dune itself was not very high – just soft sand. The drivers were shown the route we should take, and then everyone else was gathered on the top of the dune to push those cars that got stuck. In the event, only the Mercedes got stuck, and it was quickly pushed free.
When it came to my turn, I gunned the car up the dune – probably far too fast. At the top, I was moving too fast to make the tight turn required, so I took a wider turn, going down a different route on the other side – I made it though – did not get stuck and did not damage to car or person in the process. Sidi said I was a mad driver!
A bit later on, we reached a spot with a very long stretch of soft sand. The Polo always seemed to need a lot of speed to make it through stretches like this, so when we caught up with the car in front which had got stuck, even though we managed to get past, we too got stuck due to the loss of momentum. In the event, five cars got stuck here, and we had to get them all free and moving again.
Finally, we reached the village before the beach run. Here we had to provide our receipt for the National Park – and the local kids started to mob us asking for “Cadeaux” or presents. They also tried to get their hands into the cars and take anything they could reach. With this approach, we were reluctant to give anything to them. An American lady in a car coming the opposite way was friendlier – handing out “Kojak” lollies to them.
At this point Phil decided it was his turn to drive, and we set off the kilometre or so to the start of the beach run. All the drivers were taken to the top of the dune, and told to hammer it to the sea edge, and to just keep driving – not stopping for anything. The Mercedes set off, and we went second. Phil got us onto the beach, but we needed to go faster than the Mercedes to keep momentum – so past we went and disappeared into the distance. The Mercedes and Banger & Smash’s Renault followed well behind. Eventually we realised that we had lost the others, so we stopped. The two other cars pulled up, but the Spanish Astra was stopped on the beach. Sidi got quite angry at this point about it stopping and went back to complain.
The Car had in fact conked out. As soon at it got down to the sea, it got some water in the engine and the car stopped running. They got it going again, and finally we started once more, with Banger & Smash in the lead.
When we reached some fishing boats, John stopped his car and Phil flew past. Fortunately I had spotted the rope across the beach at radiator height and yelled at Phil to stop. He did so with less than a metre to spare. The sand slowed us rapidly – I guess on tarmac, we would have hit the rope. The fishermen lowered the rope, but started asking for presents as well for doing this. We started driving again and just kept going.
The beach run is a lot harder than it looks. First of all, the tide was coming in, and so the amount of sand available for us to drive on was limited. Even when the tide is out, there is still only a short stretch of sand. Then the best driving sand it right at the water’s edge – and the water is moving in and out all the time. If we get caught by the water, we run the risk of splashing water into the engine and shorting out the electrics. Further up the beach, the car slows down due to the sand, and we could get stuck.
If the beach was smooth, this would be okay, but the beach has ridges all the time, running out to sea. This means that we are driving up and down these ridges at speed (usually about 60 km/hr). Finally, some of the ridges have been undercut by the tide, and so we can suddenly find ourselves airborne as we go over a ridge. This made for a hairy journey down the beach – a run of over 70km.
Despite this, there were some wonderful views. In places the seabirds would populate the beach, and as we drove down, they would all lift off in flock – mainly gulls, but with pelicans as well in places.
After about 50km, we realised that we were all alone, and we could no longer see anyone behind us. We were also getting down on fuel, and felt we should stop and wait for the others, while we topped up our tank from one of the containers. Eventually three other cars arrived – Jake, Mike and Sidi in the Mercedes, John and Rachael in the Renault, and Steve, Tony and Fred in the Omega. There was no sign of the Astra or the Pajero.
Sidi suggested we get the cars well up the beach, as the tide was still coming in, and wait until about 6:00pm to continue. He thought we might have to camp there. He was obviously worried about the other two cars, and after collecting food and water from each of us, he set off back walking through the heat of the mid-day sun.
We hung around for the afternoon – even putting up a couple of tents to shield us from the sun. With no sign of the others, we decided that we would camp where we were, and a team went out to collect firewood. They were just returning when the other two cars turned up – with Sidi driving the Astra. He told us to get moving, and to drive to the village with all the fishing boats – another 17 km along the beach or so.
This we did, but again there was no sign of the same two cars, and by now it was dark. With some help from the locals in the village, we started to get the cars off the beach. We met with problems with Sand in m’ Crack’s Omega though – which was having problems probably due to water in the electrics. Eventually we got it off the beach and across to the other cars.
While we were doing this, the Astra appeared along the beach and drove straight off it behind the other cars – obviously Sidi was driving, as the Spanish would not have known where to drive. This just left the Pajero – of which there was no sign.
We all felt that the vehicle itself was probably okay, but we knew that the guys with it did not have tents and sleeping bags for everyone. Some of the locals were heading along the beach and agreed to take Sidi and a couple of the guys from Jamu Wachu Team with them. They stated that it would cost €200 to tow the car back though.
The rest of us decided to leave the village (the attention we were getting from the locals, and the demands for presents was getting very annoying), so we told Sidi that we would camp about 3km outside the village. All the cars set off along the road but after about a kilometre we came to a dune of sand right across the road. This turned out to be quite small compared to many that we had crossed, so we just powered over it as we had been taught. Eventually, after about 4km, we pulled off the road and found a place to camp for the night.
About an hour and a half later, there was a call on Tony’s phone (he had gone to bed early suffering from too much exposure to the sun). They guys in the Pajero had arrived, being towed by the local’s cat-cat (Quatre-Quatre or 4×4). The clutch had gone, and the Pajero had got stuck on the edge of the surf. They had emptied the vehicle, and were expecting it to be taken by the incoming tide. The cat-cat had got there just in time to pull it out – albeit at a cost of €150. We directed them in to our camp, and decided to make decisions on the vehicle the next day.
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Day 15 - More Desert
By Stan | January 13, 2009
Crawling out of the tent, one of the first things I noticed was that both the Polo and the Jamu Wachu Team’s Astra were up to their axles in sand. It was also obvious that the cars had not sunk, but had been buried. Some of the laughter from the previous evening involved lifting each car, digging holes for each wheel and then filling in around them. To get our cars out, we needed to reverse the process.
Knowing that John (Banger & Smash) had brought an air-jack with him, I suggested we try this out and see if it worked. He was only too delighted to give it a go.
The air-jack is placed under the car sill, and a hose is attached to the exhaust. By revving the engine, and holding the hose on tightly, the jack fills up and lifts the car. By doing this on each side, we were able to fill in the holes under each wheel, and then reverse the car out. This took no more than 15 minutes or so for each car. By asking questions, we also worked out that Mike, Jake, Dimitri, Fred and possibly some others were involved in the incident.
The National Park official turned up to obtain payment for visiting the park, and also for camping. We then got a single receipt for us all. This was so we would not need to pay when we left the park later in the day.
The Scorpio still needed work. The plastic which had been repaired last night was reattached to the radiator (not a perfect connection), and then the radiator was installed in the car. At this stage the car was rolled off its side and slowly placed on all four wheels again. Oil, which had collected in the wing while it was on its side, flowed onto the sand below. This was probably flowing out of either the filler cap or the dip stick hole.
Due to the lack of water, we used sea water to fill the cooling system. Water flowed out due to a poor seal between the plastic and the metal of the radiator. A long process followed as we tried to use webbing to ratchet the radiator together so that it would not leak. Eventually we got the leak to such a small flow, we were able to add some Rad-weld to complete the job. Starting the engine we then found that the oil turbo-cooler was cracked. Mending this was simpler – using liquid metal.
By the time all this was done, it was well into the afternoon, and still we were not convinced that the car was roadworthy. Despite this, we packed up and set off. All was not well, and within about 5 km, the sealant used to mend the plastic started to leak – it was not suitable for hot water, and water was leaking everywhere.
Discussions took place about the fate of the car. Stan had worked long and hard on the Scorpio, and did not want to leave it, while everyone else knew that was the best solution. An alternative appeared when two vehicles arrived, heading to Noudhibou, who were willing to tow the car for €150, but Sidi advised Stan and Dimitri not to trust them. They could be taken into the desert and then forced to pay more or be left with the car. Eventually it was decided to tow the car back to the village and leave it there.
Sidi and Andy went back in the Pajero and got a four-wheel drive to come out and collect the Scorpio. In the meantime, we all started chucking stuff we did not really need into the Scorpio to make room for Stan, Dimitri and their stuff. We jettisoned a 25 litre container (empty by now), and a bag of cloths. With some careful repacking, we were able to fit in Dimitri’s suitcase, his compressor and footpump, and some food. John and Andy in the Pajero managed to clear enough room in the back to get the two guys in their as well.
Eventually, after 4:00pm, we started off again – having lost most of the day. The drive today was similar to the previous day apart from one memorable sand dune. We were led in a huge arc, and then stopped about 500 metres from a large sand dune with obvious tracks up it. Sidi told us to go as fast as possible up the dune, slow down at the top and go right. He also picked up a rock and told us to watch out for these. Sidi’s English is not very good, so much of this is done with pidgeon English and hand signals.
Sidi was travelling in Jake and Mike’s Mercedes, and this set off, up the dune and disappeared to the right. We were next, and Phil set off, reaching about 80 km/hr by the time we reached the dune. Up we went, changing down to second gear as we reached the top. Sure enough, there were lots of small rocks to dodge, but no sign of the Mercedes. Round we went to the right, wondering where they had got to, when we spotted them, almost a kilometre away down the other side of the dune and across soft sand. Fortunately we were travelling fast enough to take the same route, and followed them out across the sand. All the cars managed to make it without getting stuck – an event which probably saved a considerable length of time – and one which Sidi was quite excited about.
Ideally we should have made the beach that night, but just before darkness fell at 6:30pm, Sidi led us behind a sand dune, where we were to camp for the night. Things were a bit subdued, as we had lost a car, been delayed and had run out of beer.
Despite this, we managed to bury Stan in sand up to his neck, found a toilet stool in the desert (a 4 legged stool with a hole in it to perform through), drank Dimitri’s bottle of vodka, and roasted potatoes in the fire. Dimitri had also brought a tea pot and some loose leaf tea from Morocco – so we were able to make some local tea. Things were not too bad.
Sidi said that we needed to set off at 7:00am the next morning, and that he would wake us early.
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Day 14 - The Desert
By Stan | January 13, 2009
When camping, the day begins around 7:00am. This is when my bladder starts to complain about its contents, and the tent starts to fill with the first grey of dawn. It only takes about 15 minutes for daylight to fully form, with the first sign of the sun appearing over the horizon. Meanwhile, most of us have pulled ourselves out of our tents and wandered off to relieve ourselves.
With a group of fifteen men and one woman, it is Rachael who has to go furthest. The rest of us do not care so much about privacy – just standing with our backs turned. If a greater call of nature is received, then we take a camping shovel, a roll of toilet paper and wander off behind a distant sand dune, bush (if there is one) or a rock. The further we get into the desert, the more likely this is to be a dune. Amazingly, we do not seem to bump into each other on these trips.
The next order of the day is boiling water for tea or coffee. The camping stove is a great invention, but does require a gas canister to perform, and once this is empty, a fire (or one of the RAF field stoves) is required. Jake and Mike had considered this, and had brought a modern primus stove that worked on petrol – of which there was generally a reasonable store. We had filled up in Western Sahara with a full tank, plus 75 litres of spare. This should be enough to get to Banjul – even with higher usage in the desert – and keep Jake and Mike supplied.
Rachael and John (Banger & Smash) had come complete with instant porridge – which when mixed with hot water gave us a wonderful start to the day on many occasions. We had tea bags (good quality Assam tea) although we had to make do with UHT milk. At least we had enough for the trip through the desert.
Folding the pop-up tent is supposed to take just 15 seconds. We had practiced at home, and so could generally get one away in less than 30, but this was not the case for everyone. It was part of the morning entertainment to watch someone struggling with their tent. Most mornings we got everything packed up and ready to go by about 9:00am, but it was always Chestykoff and Sand in m’ Crack who were last to be ready. They were just more relaxed and laid back than the rest of us.
We set off from our camp and headed further into the desert (we had wondered if we would go back to the road – but no – this was the start of the desert run).
The ground in the desert varies from hard gravel (similar to the hard core experienced where a road is being built) through hard sand to soft sand. We had our first experience of soft sand within the first 10 km. To drive on this, we needed to speed up to about 40 – 50 km/hr or possibly faster and maintain this through the sand. With our sump guard, we got a build up of sand in front of this which then acted like a snow plough. If we were too slow, we came to a halt – if we could maintain momentum we could get through to harder sand on the other side, although the front wheels (providing both steering and drive) would lose traction, causing us to slide from side to side. Since we are in the desert, with no other traffic, this is not a problem, and we could just go with the car – although we needed to avoid tussocks and hillocks, as well as rocks in the way.
The other problem was catching up the car in front, and if one stopped, then the one behind may have to stop as well – or if there is room, drive past on one side or the other. With experience, we learned to leave big gaps between each car, and to hammer into these areas of soft sand at high speed. Many of these patches were just a few 10’s or 100’s or metres long, but occasionally there would be a patch that could be a kilometre or longer in length. Once we got the hang of it, these were great fun to drive though – high speed, bouncing all over the place and struggling to keep moving. I usually tried to go in third gear through these, only changing down if I lost momentum. Phil would keep in second gear throughout, and rev the rocks off the car.
When we did get stuck in the sand, the first approach was to let a lot of the air out of the tyres (as the day warmed up, the amount of air released increased). This increased the traction, but did lower the height of the car. We would then clear the sand from in front and behind the wheels – possibly putting some carpet or car mats down to give something to grip on. Next we would reverse the car about a metre and then try and get it moving forward again. Usually there would be 5-10 guys pushing at the same time. Once the car was moving, it would (hopefully) keep going until it reached harder sand – no matter how far away that was. The pushers would walk.
Driving at speed in soft sand can lead to mishaps, such as small drops that we did not see, or one side of the car hitting hillocks or rocks and lifting and falling. We were very grateful for our sump guard during this – we are certain that if we had not had this, we would have sheared the sump bolt off the engine at some point. Our rear exhaust box is quite low – but it survived as well – I think that the front of the car was more vulnerable.
One of the comments that Colin had made in Dakhla, was that the first breakdown would be when some “boy-racer” would break his fuel line – and sure enough, this is what happened to Sand in m’ Crack within 12 km of starting the day. After some crawling around in the sand, we decided to easiest approach was to roll the car on its side and work at chest height. The metal fuel lines had corroded, and a bash on a rock or hillock had broken open both the feed and the return lines. An initial attempt at repair did not do the job, so a second approach was needed. This time we removed some hose from the carbon filter in the engine and with some fiddling, managed to make some links using some very good condition hose. Although this took a couple of hours to complete, we did manage to make a repair that saw us through the desert.
Sidi, our guide, was keen that we should make the coast that evening – where there was a campsite owned by the National Park near to a village. This meant that he chose some good routes through the desert. Many of these were obviously quite well used – although the paths did cross each other, and it would have been very easy to go wrong. Indeed at one point a few folks stopped to take pictures of camels, and almost lost us as we headed on. Fortunately we found each other again.
At one point, when the convoy came to a halt for a photo shoot (all the cars in a row), Sidi spotted two men walking in the desert – carrying water. As is now becoming normal, it soon became apparent that Sidi knew at least one of these guys, as he owns the campsite in Nuadhibou. Their car had got stuck in the sand, and they were walking to a more popular route. Indeed, as we sat and waited for Sidi, another two vehicles turned up (travelling in the opposite direction to us) and took these guys back to help get their car free.
There are a number of plains in the desert – about a kilometre or more across between sand dunes, and comprising hard sand with very fine gravel or stones (0.5 – 1.0 mm across) on the surface. We could motor at high speeds across these, overtaking and taking photos and video of each other. These plains could last for 5-10 km in length, and were great fun to drive across. The end of these could come suddenly through, and knowing which route to take at the end could mean the difference between success and disaster, as Chestykoff found out just a few km from our campsite. Stan (short for Stanislav) was driving, and he chose a different route to everyone else – up a short bank was a sudden drop of about half a metre, where he nose dived and then managed to drive on. The nose dive broke open some of the radiator however – and we later discovered – the oil cooler for the turbo on his Ford Scorpio. After some efforts to make repairs, we decided to tow the car into the campsite for the night, and to continue to work there. This job came down to the Mitsubishi Pajero – something that was not ideal, as the clutch had been playing up since the UK, and towing puts more pressure on it. Despite that, we managed to get all the cars to the campsite, where we had a choice of pre-erected tents sleeping about seven, or putting up our own tents. Phil and I decided to sleep in our own tent – partially because Dimitri – a champion snorer – was planning to sleep in the communal tent.
With the campsite being situated on the beach, most of us went for a swim (the sea felt icy) – or more importantly – a wash in the sea – complete with shower gel and shampoo. Not ideal, but since it had been three days since our last shower, this was welcome. While we setting up camp, we were approached to ask if we could sell 10 litres of petrol. The going price in the desert was about twice what we had paid in the Western Sahara, so we agreed. Since we knew what price to charge, the purchaser dropped his needs to 7.5 litres, but we did make a profit, and also got some local currency – something we had not had until now. Phil took this and went off and bought some fish from a local lady.
Phil’s next challenge was how to clean and gut the fish. This was something he had not done before – but Stan (from Chestykoff) was experienced with this, and took Phil down to the sea to show him what to do. We then lit up our instant barbecue from the UK, and cooked a great meal of fish and vegetables. Sidi came and joined us, and shared our meal – although later one of the locals came and gave him a plate of their food as well – something he shared with us all. It tasted pretty good as well.
The Ford Scorpio was on its side by now, with the radiator out. This has a plastic section down each side, one of which was severely cracked. We did our best to seal this up using some silicone sealant, but we were never sure if it would withstand the heat of the engine. The sealant was left to cure overnight.
We then all sat around drinking beer and generally relaxing. Bringing alcohol into Mauritania was always a question while we were in Morocco. We had been given various bits of advice, including hide it and smuggle it in, or leave a couple of cans on top as a “gift” for the customs. Sidi told us not to worry, and to say we had some for our own consumption, and no more. In the event, we were not even asked about it at the border. Whether this was because Sidi was with us, the lateness of the day (just before the border shut) or whether it is always like this, we do not know. Suffice to say – we had no problems, and brought in a crate of beer (24 cans) and half a bottle of vodka. Neither of these were obvious to the casual observer, but neither were they hidden very well.
Sand in m’ Crack had decided to smuggle some vodka in, and had decanted a bottle into a used water bottle. This would have been okay until Steve used this “water” to boil up and make tea. It was only when they came to drink it that they realised the tea was somewhat more alcoholic than usual. The tea was cooled down and put back into the water bottle. I assume it got drunk later in the day.
Phil and I hit the sack reasonably early, but some of the others could be heard talking and laughing for quite some time later.
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