The point of it all

AS the sound of 18 diesel engines died away for the last time in Casablanca on Oct 7, a wave of relief swept over every member of the Petronas Trans Sahara 2004 expedition. There were also feelings of triumph, and a sense of personal achievement and team accomplishment.
“We made it!” “Well done, you did it!” Congratulations were in order, and everyone went around shaking each other’s hands and patting one another on the back. There were tears of joy, and eager anticipation of the journey home to much-missed loved ones so far away.
Now, safe and sound at home at last, with all the creature comforts and the great Malaysian food that we craved for while out there in the desert, there has been time to reflect on the meaning of life, the universe, and what the whole Sahara experience has been about.
It was one great adventure. For some lucky members of the Petronas Adventure Team (PAT), there will be other places to visit in time to come, but many of us will remember this trip as a once-in-a-lifetime experience that we were fortunate enough to have been a part of.
The Trans Sahara proved to be many things to many people. It was a journey of exploration, a long trek through nations and environments that couldn’t possibly be more different than the lush world that Malaysians know as home.
It was a test for each individual participant, who had to dig deep into his or her reserves to find the patience, the perseverance and the tolerance to put up with all the unexpected trials and tribulations that came along. Some of the challenges included seemingly endless waiting to cross borders, long hours of driving, extreme heat, gritty sand getting into everything, and having to go for days without a bath.

There were always some people you liked and some you did not, but everyone had to learn to get along, for the good of the entire group. When everyone was forced to spend so much time in such close proximity, the strain could blow the smallest misunderstanding out of proportion and spark off tiffs. But, in the end, the close bond forged by the shared experiences won through.
There were happy moments when things were great, when the scenery was dazzling or the mood enchanting, just as there were times when everything that could go wrong did. We all passed the test and, looking back now, the good times far outweighed the bad.
It was an opportunity for Malaysians, as individuals and as a group, to let other cultures know about us even as we were getting to know them. Initially, the curious locals of North Africa always mistook us for Japanese, Koreans or Chinese visitors. But when told that we were Malaysians, the reaction was always one of warm welcome.
Invariably, their faces broke into broad smiles, their thumbs went up and they shouted, “Malaysia very good, very nice people, welcome!” It felt really great to be regarded in such a pleasant light, even if we discovered along the way that such welcoming salutes were often ploys to lure unsuspecting tourists into souvenir shops.
As travel experiences go, a PAT expedition is not really the best way to visit interesting places. All too often, the need to keep to a schedule or having to pick up the pace to make up for lost time meant that we had to bypass many interesting places. While the 39 days allocated for the expedition might seem a long time, it still did not allow for much leisure because the convoy had to cover more than 10,000km, much of it over difficult terrain. There were stretches of the route which required eight hours of driving to cover just over 100km of ground.
While it was understandable that the needs of the whole caravan took precedence over the wishes of individuals, it did often lead to the frustrating feeling that one had travelled so far under such difficult conditions only to whiz past some place of great significance, such as historic battlegrounds like El Alamein and Mersa Matruh in Egypt, or the remnants of ancient Roman settlements in Libya.

The expedition did enable us to see plenty of interesting sights along the way. Even if the experience was often shallow, most of us agreed that it was ultimately better to have had these glimpses, however brief and fleeting, than not to have seen these wonderful places at all. That was another lesson: you can’t have everything your way all the time, so you should enjoy whatever you can get.
In the main, the expedition served to raise Petronas’ profile in the foreign countries where they have joint-venture operations, such as Sudan, Egypt, Algeria and Morocco. Wherever possible, the PAT members took part in community relations projects at local institutions such as children’s hospitals and village vocational centres, which receive support and aid from the Malaysian oil company.
For other sponsors such as Ford Malaysia, which sent along their 4X4 Everest and Ranger vehicles, and Korean tyre-maker Kumho, the gruelling expedition was as an ideal trial by ordeal that proved their products’ toughness and reliability, beyond all doubt. After all, they survived the kind of conditions and abuse the average consumer’s car and tyres would never have to undergo, even in 20 years of normal usage.

Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world ---

FOR those who know Casablanca only through that great movie of the same name, it is a city synonymous with new beginnings. Here, on Thursday, the adventure ended for the Petronas Trans Sahara 2004 expedition, and the 44 participants felt it was an appropriate place to look back on how it all began.
There is now a special bond among us, the kind that only comes from having survived an extended period of trials and tribulations together, as well as the excitement of shared discovery and exploration.
It has been a bumpy ride, literally and figuratively. The journey has taken the Petronas Adventure Team through six North African countries, plus a brief detour through Spain that entailed two overnight ferry rides for the expedition members and their 18 vehicles. Overland border crossings are always a tedious, time-consuming affair involving plenty of paperwork and patience. But serious differences between Algeria and Morocco mean the border is closed, thus making the trips across the Mediterranean Sea necessary.

A Roman fort in Tunisia.

With only a few rare exceptions, each day had begun early and ended late. In between, there were many hours of driving, more often than not over difficult terrain that took a heavy toll on vehicles and occupants alike. The rewards, however, were opportunities to behold numerous natural wonders that few Malaysians have seen before.
Spirits have remained high for most of our journey although there have been the inevitable moments when normally suppressed tensions broke through and tempers flared; and, of course, there was the melancholy as homesickness crept in towards the last few days of the long trek.
Everyone remained in good health for a surprisingly long time, considering the long days spent in the desert, camping without any water other than what had been carried in bottles and jerry cans.
However, just when everyone thought expedition medic Khairuddin Mohd Ali was having a relaxing holiday, the bugs bit with a vengeance. After nearly a month going through countries with ever-present hygiene concerns without major problems, about 90% of the team were hit by food poisoning, which led to severe diarrhoea and some vomiting, shortly after we disembarked in Alicante, a port in Spain – ironically, the cleanest country we had been to thus far. The prime suspect was the orange juice served during breakfast on the boat from Oran, Algeria.
On the morning after, “How are you?” became a question of concern rather than the usual, mechanical greeting. Another greeting frequently heard throughout the hotel corridors was, “How many times did you do it last night?”
Things were looking better as the sun rose over Nador, the Moroccan port where the team returned to in North Africa. But a dozen or so of the team members still looked ashen and less-than-enthusiastic adventurers.
The drive to the historic city of Fez got off to an inauspicious start when the local handler’s Land Rover suffered a broken timing belt barely two hours into the journey up the famous Atlas Mountains. It could not be repaired immediately and had to be left behind in the nearest town.
The Moroccan landscape turned out to be a dramatic and welcome change from the harsh, arid desert we had been passing through earlier. For a start, there was plenty of green everywhere and the silver glint of sunlight reflecting off the leaves on thousands upon thousands of olive trees got the cameras clicking.
The vegetation gradually changed from sparse shrubs to tall pine and spruce trees as we climbed higher, and the temperature fell to a pleasant average of 23°C.

Underground dwellings called 'troglodytes'.

Expectations were high in Fez, but the team was disappointed, mainly because there was not enough time to enjoy the old-world charms of this ancient town’s medina or bazaar. We were herded from one overpriced shop to another by the handler, Azeez, whom everyone suspected was more interested in his commissions from the vendors than our interests.
At no other time had we felt more like the typical tourist – precisely what the expedition did not wish to have happen. Justice was served when the rogue was dismissed and kicked out of the convoy several days later for running off to sleep in a nearby hotel while everyone had to camp in a rocky, dry riverbed.
Things improved somewhat as we set off higher into the mountains for three days of camping. The rocky ground proved tough going and the temperature fell to below 10°C at night. Freezing feet and toes made getting a good night’s sleep difficult, but there was some joy to be found in a roaring campfire.
The scenery was nothing short of spectacular. Most of the Atlas Mountains comprise sedimentary rocks formed in layers over hundreds of millions years. Geological forces have pushed the layers up this way and that, and countless millennia of weathering have exposed the many layers at all angles and shapes, and in many colours.
Our vehicles had to negotiate frighteningly narrow and bumpy tracks that clung precariously to the sides of steep cliffs. This was mountain goat territory, and there were plenty of these hardy animals around to stare at the unfamiliar sight of 4X4 vehicles crawling through their turf.
Traversing a pass took the convoy to nearly 2,700m above sea level, and into yet another amazing landscape which could be called Morocco’s own Grand Canyon. Deep gorges cut by rivers over millions of years have created a scene that resembles different varieties of layer cake (like the popular kuih lapis) in a bewildering array of colours and shapes.
This was also the area where the convoy encountered the phenomenon of rural Moroccan children, who have learned that visitors passing through meant handouts of food and other treats.
When there were only one or two children by the side of the track, giving them a packet of biscuits or some sweets was a pleasure, if only for the satisfaction of seeing the joy on their faces. However, when there were large numbers, they behaved more like an aggressive mob, chasing after and pounding on our moving vehicles. Some even climbed onto the cars and clung on desperately with one hand while using the other to take items by force. Some flung stones at vehicles whose occupants did not meet their demands.
Earlier, many of the expedition members had been anxious to know the local inhabitants better. But passing through the villages soon became a harrowing experience. It was with relief that we drove out of the mountains and into Marrakech, Morocco’s second biggest city and most popular tourist destination.
What joy! No more camping, no more going days without a bath. PAT members may be tough adventurers who enjoy roughing it out, but there comes a point when enough is enough, and everyone is ready to appreciate the creature comforts and niceties of civilisation again. A day of sightseeing and shopping for souvenirs in the huge, vibrant bazaar at Marrakech’s famed medina got everyone cheerful and upbeat again.
As the convoy rolled closer towards the final destination on the final day, many of the expedition members took turns on the two-way radios to address the group, thanking each other for the good times, for the little gestures of kindness that would be remembered forever, and apologising for any offence they might have caused.
There was emotion in the air, mixed feelings of relief because the end was near and we would be going home to loved ones soon. Yet there was sadness at the thought of the impending parting of ways for a motley bunch of people of all ages and walks of life who, for the past six weeks, had been closer than family.
There is always next year’s expedition to look forward to, and it’s a safe bet that everyone will leap at the chance if asked whether he or she would like to “play it again”.