Fun Drive

It's the Gulf News Fun Drive on 8th December. I got involved at a very late stage as one of the new marshals. My job on the day will be part of a Mobile Rescue Team (MRT) who will drive the route and help out with any stuck or broken-down vehicles that we may encounter.

So it's important that I know the route. Last Friday I went out with a group of around ten marshals to tape the route. This job has to be done several times, tying bits of 'Gulf News' plastic tape to bushes, rocks and bits of fence so that the participants know that they're on the correct route. Why several times? Well, a secondary purpose of the plastic tape appears to be to provide some variety in the diet of the local camels. Driving the route also enabled me to record it on my GPS so that on the day I wouldn't be referring solely to the tulip diagrams and the tape.

Although the route started off easy, there were several tricky climbs in the soft sand. I kept getting 'refusals' until I checked my tyres and found that the heat had elevated the pressures to 22psi. Dropping the pressure to 1 bar (or 15 psi in old money) solved the problem.

I had one extremely hairy moment involving my car stuck sideways on a slip face. Entirely my fault: having failed to approach the slope sufficiently fast, I attempted to 'moon-shot' and loop around to the bottom, but the soft sand had other ideas. About six well-built gentlemen stood on the right-hand side step to counterbalance the car while I drove out. I had the bent side-step repaired yesterday. There's nothing in the Prado manual that tells me the maximum number of fat bastards permitted on a side-step, so I could probably sue Toyota, were I living in the States. In any event, repairing the step was doubtless cheaper than a whole load of panel-beating.

The Saturday run-through commenced with the Marshals' Breakfast and issue of equipment. The rainy weather persuaded me to use a bin liner as a waterproof tabard, which made me look like a refugee from a punk rock costume party. Almost no-one had brought any waterproofs.

Wet sand is amazingly easy to drive on. I was able to do most of the route without engaging 4-lock. The Prado has full-time 4WD, so it's not possible to drive in 2WD. I looked for where I previously got stuck on the slip face, and drove past without even noticing it. The disadvantage of the hard sand is that it is much more resistant to being dented by bumpers, so the risk of bodywork damage increases. I tried to be ever so careful on downward slopes so as not to lose my rear bumper, with limited success.

Flat areas were muddy and like greasy Teflon to drive on. This is fun until you realise that the scrubby bushes are not going to get out of the way of a car going sideways. And the mud goes everywhere. It is said that if there's no mud on the roof, you're not having enough fun.

The mountain section of the Fun Drive route was very interesting. Rain had washed out several sections of the graded track, so 4WD low ratio was the order of the day. We were unable to complete the mountain section on Saturday because at one point the entire track had been washed away. Twenty-seven vehicles turned round on top of a precipice on a track barely wider than a single car, and drove back to asphalt roads, arriving at around dusk. I rather hope that the track will have been regraded in time for the Fun Drive. The climbs, drops and views are all spectacular.

This post was originally going to be about those hardy campers who bravely stuck it out all weekend despite the weather. I seem to have threadjacked myself with the GNFD. Nevertheless, to all those who courageously stayed under canvas all weekend, despite the sky being as black as a bad guy's hat, in the expectation that it would stop raining, I salute you. You're more tenacious that I would have been.

Listing to starboard

I have here an example of some whinging expat doggerel
The quality is very poor; it should be wrote on bog-er-roll...

The tune, by Sir Arthur Sullivan, is here.

The landlords who increase the rent beyond the legal max.
I've got 'em on the list,
I've got 'em on the list.
The threat to boost inflation with that Value Added Tax.
I've got it on my list,
I've got it on my list.
Impatient wastafarians with flashing headlight, who
Would rather crash their cars than wait ten seconds in a queue.
The people whom you telephone because their product's cack.
They promise to return your call, but never ring you back.
And intolerance personified: the Danish boycottist.
I'm sure they'd not be missed,
You know they'd not be missed.

You may put 'em on the list,
You may put 'em on the list,
For they'd none of them be missed.
They'd none of them be missed.

The management who won't admit a man in overalls.
I've got 'em on the list,
I've got 'em on the list.
Monopolies who charge excessive rates to make phone calls.
I've got 'em on the list,
I've got 'em on the list.
The chip upon my shoulder that increases every day,
The law that says that it is not permitted to be gay,
The sweaty summer temperatures that make us stay indoors
Inside our concrete box comprising forty-seven floors,
And the genius who says you need a licence to get p!ssed.
I'm sure they'd not be missed,
You know they'd not be missed.

You may put 'em on the list,
You may put 'em on the list,
For they'd none of them be missed.
They'd none of them be missed.

The gentleman in uniform who'd rather just say, "No."
I've got him on my list,
I've got him on my list.
Though yesterday it was OK, today he orders: "Go!"
I've got him on my list,
I've got him on my list.
The high-rise towers everywhere, and ne'er a patch of green.
The concrete, steel and mirrored glass. No plant life can be seen.
The threat of a congestion charge: a most alarming sign,
Yet if you want the train you'll wait until two thousand nine.
And the fool who drives with hazard flashers on in rain and mist.
I'm sure he'd not be missed,
You know he'd not be missed.

You may put 'em on the list,
You may put 'em on the list,
For they'd none of them be missed.
They'd none of them be missed.

Protection racket

Those awfully nice people from the Red Triangles Bank wrote to me today with a new offer for credit cards. They have decided that I need protection against death or permanent total disability. After two months of this unsolicited free insurance, the brochure says, I'll be charged 0.2% of my credit card balance per month.

I wonder how Red Triangles' claims lawyers define 'permanent total'? "Sorry Mr Goat, you can voluntarily move your left eyelid. Your disability isn't total."

And as for the list of exclusions, I trotted along to www.uae.redtriangles.com and learned that the list of non-approved activities includes scuba diving, and also participation in any sport that involves an engine. Note that: 'participation'. Not 'competing'.

So if I go diving and travel to the dive site in a motor boat, I'd not get my credit card balance annulled if I died. Similarly if I were squashed by Carlos Sainz whilst photographing the Desert Challenge. And I suspect the loss adjustors would take a very dim view if I permanently totally disabled myself whilst chainsaw juggling.

I rang the Bank, as instructed in the leaflet, and asked to opt out of the feature. "Certainly Mr Goat. Just fax us a letter and..."

"No, I don't think so. You have given notice that you intend to charge me for a feature that I don't want. I have complied fully with your instructions by telephoning you. Please cancel the Credit Cover."

I shall watch my card statements. I have absolutely no intention of paying any Credit Cover premiums, nor interest accrued through their non-payment.

Desert Challenge

I first got involved in the UAE Desert Challenge in 2005. This five-day cross-country rally is an annual event that takes place around the Liwa crescent in deepest, darkest Abu Dhabi. It's so far south as to be almost in the Magic Kingdom.

Last year I took a couple of days off and spent these taking photos of the cars, bikes and trucks competing in the event. This year, because the opportunity was presented through the pages of ME4x4 I volunteered to be a member of the sweep team. I needed to take the whole week as leave. My duties, and there were two of us doing this, were to tow a trailer to various points where the rally route crossed roads and tracks, and to meet the other sweeps who had removed dead or crashed motorbikes from the course. These would be loaded on to my trailer and I'd return the machines to the bivouac at Moreeb so that they could be repaired in time to re-start the following morning.

Sometimes there was nothing wrong with the bike, and it was the rider who was exhausted or injured. On more than one occasion the rider was taken to the nearest road and he was then able to ride back to the bivouac.

I also got involved with Passage Controls. The PC's function was to stamp each competitor's time card to prove he passed through the PC. In addition, all times were recorded and radioed back to Rally Control so that everyone knew in which section each competitor was. As sweep, I had to be at a particular PC in time to meet the last bike (and therefore the sweep pick-ups) but by getting there early I was able to help out with running the PC, much to the relief of the PC chief who was chronically short-staffed.

I should add that all competitors and various marshals had Iritrac installed in their vehicles, a satellite-based tracking system telling Rally Control, among others exactly where everyone was in real time.

The rules of the rally allow anyone who starts on a particular day to start the following day. In practice, this means that provided you can get your vehicle through the start gate, you can then go back to the bivouac to continue to repair it. Of course, time penalties are incurred for each PC missed, but as more and more competitors drop out having destroyed their rides, just finishing becomes an important target.

I was there for the entire week. Accommodation was provided at the Liwa Rest House. Although very basic, spring mattresses on the floor of an air-conditioned majlis were nevertheless extremely welcome and beat the pants off sleeping on the sand at the bivouac, being constantly regaled by unsilenced internal combustion. Starts at the extremely uncivilised 0430 entailed a couple of mornings of driving in some pretty thick fog. Small wonder that on two occasions the rally start was delayed.

It can be hard work. It can also be extremely boring, waiting in the middle of nowhere for a pick-up to appear. But the rally simply cannot function without the hordes of volunteer marshals and the gargantuan efforts put in by more people and organisations that I can sensibly list here.

What did I get out of it? The satisfaction of a job well done, mainly. Plus lots of photo opportunities and a chance to get involved. I'm looking forward to the announcement of the dates for next year's Desert Challenge so I can book my leave well in advance.

Free press...

...with every ten packet tops.

I have just returned from marshalling on this year's UAE Desert Challenge. A blog about it, possibly with a photo or two, will follow once I've recovered from the sleep deprivation and jet lag that a week in Liwa entails.

This incident somewhat marred Thursday morning's proceedings, but, as reported in 7Days, most of the people in the chopper walked away and the pilot and co-pilot were taken for hospital treatment after a rather bumpy landing.

So the fact that an Abu Dhabi Police helicopter came down in an unplanned way is now public knowledge. Why then did the police find it necessary to stand over any and all photographers present and demand that all photographic evidence be deleted? Surely the crash hard landing investigators would have found photographic evidence invaluable? But no. Apparently, by expunging all pictures, it's as if the incident never occurred.

Speaking to a journalist working for one of the UAE national papers covering the Desert Challenge and in particular helicopter operations, I suggested that he might like to try some UnDelete software and apply it to the memory card in his camera. Whether pictures ever appear in the press is another matter.

Worldly wise

Reclamation of land to make the ambitious, some might say audacious, World development continues apace. We are promised by the developer, Nakheel, that reclamation will be complete by 2008. The plan, three hundred man-made islands surrounded by a barrier reef that form the shape of the earth's land masses, is supposed to become some of the most desirable pieces of real estate on the planet. Each island will be so exclusive that it can only be accessed by boat or helicopter. Obscenely rich people only need apply.

One of the things that concern me is the major discrepancy between the Ambition (as per Nakheel's website) and the Actual (as per Google Earth).

The Vision

The Reality

Yes, of course it's not finished yet. But shouldn't the outer barrier reef be aligned in one smooth curve rather than with an obvious break in the middle? Even if the gap is deliberate, I'd have expected the two halves to look like they'll join up.

Won't it be fun for the residents as they pick their way between the islands in their expensive boats? The layout is confusing enough on plan; nightmare navigation from the point of view of within the development. And that's in daylight. what about at night?

Doubtless I have no real concept of quite how rich the World's residents will be. Unlike the rest of us, who have to leave our apartments and go to work in order to pay the rent, these Über-rich won't need to find parking spaces for their speedboats and helicopters while they spend all day at the office. Which is just as well, given the chronic shortage of marina berths and airspace.

Having your own private island is a wonderful fantasy. I hope that the reality works out better than I foresee. If I could afford my own private island, it'd be one with a proper rock foundation and a history of not being washed away, not a small pile of sand.

Drive like the Bangles

Encouraged by comments on SD's post, the muse appeared and made me come up with this. Thank you to the Egyptian in the blue Chevy who hit a parked car and then was too busy to wait for the police to turn up. This despite it being The Law not to leave the scene of an traffic accident, however minor. Thanks to an alert watchman, the Man Who Parks By Braille's insurance company should soon be footing my repair bill. I wonder if the police would have been so relaxed about his non-attendance at the scene if he'd reversed over a small child?


All the dents and scrapes on your car:
Where do they come from? Don’t you know?
If you drive too fast, (oh, way, oh),
You will cause people lots of woe.

All the bizarre men by the Nile:
They drive at midnight for a lark
With headlights off, (oh, way, oh),
So you can’t see them in the dark.

In an accident yesterday
I cried, “Woe, aye, woe
Aye, woe, aye, woe.”
'Cos of an Egyptian.

I parked my car in a space
When I arrived at my place of work.
Two hours on, I was told
It had been dented by a jerk.

By the time the police had arrived,
The other car was a long time gone.
Three hours I had to wait around
All because of that Egyptian.

Someone noted his licence plate,
So, why oh why
Is he allowed to
Drive like an Egyptian?

On the street put your feet on the dash
Shift the seat, so it’s leaning back.
Think you look so cool, (oh, way, oops),
As you collide with a Cadillac!

Now you need to find any cop,
So hang around for an hour or more.
When one arrives, (oh, way, oh),
You get the blame if you are insured.

All the rich kids with their Patrols,
And the Echo and the Sunnymen.
We all know that to survive
We’ve got to drive like Egyptians.

All the cops ever seem to do is
Say, “ ‘Ello,
‘Ello, ‘Ello, oh…
You drive like an Egyptian.”
Drive like an Egyptian.