British Airways

Flight Status British Airways

Only once I came off seriously my route, when it was covered and I could not use the Sun as a sky Guide. Actually an ideal weather for travel - times not bright light and high temperatures. For that I'm lost. Fear came to the physical drudgery. I did not so quite believe that Allah would already do it. All directions were equal. As a precaution, I pitched my camp and remained until the next day. I had Yes made here and there small stone pyramids, so that I would have in an emergency to the last point of departure to return (or pushing) können.ICH also tubular, gezwinkert briefly with the eyes, and the tire was sitting on the rim. I was pleased nonetheless to have covered me in Italy with sufficient repair kit, hoses and new good coats. Spoke tearing? Equal to zero. Why not? Lightweight luggage and washers made of copper (at the head of spokes), which feathered down the voltage.

Finally I reached from Ghadames, 500 kilometres from the coast. Surrounded by a small winding old town in the background of sand and mountains. Huts, loam buildings before, roads and paths were lehmfarben each other. The streets were more streets, half covered and sheltered by rocky headlands. White-washed houses and buildings were connected by arches. You and a green belt around the OASIS City provided the desired shade. I ended up, as with the Arabs, in a tearoom. It was loud: radio music, the Click-Clack of dominoes, talks. Again was admires my bike and I curious. Also here in deepest desert, great pleasure ruled my Italian. «You asked a question here very clearly: "Dove. (Where?) «-» Ghat! «-» Ghat. The men included in the turban and first served tea.

It was evening. I ended up in a House on the outskirts of the city, where the sandy desert zoom in and drives down to ramparts pours on himself, smashed rieselt and melts. Here and there, bushes walls cuddled. The colour of the family seemed darker than in the North of Libya. Almost negride. Beautiful rugs lay on the bare clay soil. In a windowless room, a sleeping instead of mud-brick, on walled me knee, assigned to. For the first time since Tunisia I spread again my sleeping bag on a sort of bed. No question: I slept well everywhere. In each position, because my body was quiet. But that was not the real: I registered immediately in his sleep, what happened around me. If a dog sneaked a camel rose, meckerten goats. Front of snakes needed to not be afraid to have
zugeweht, dried out, simply no longer exists. I'd completely lost. That was ultimately what kept me from the continue: the fear of the getting lost.

Back to the coast, you recommended to me. And the police in Ghadames sharpened me up my papers in Tripoli, the capital of Libya, to be put right. She is far away on the Mediterranean coast. Again, I realized that I was for weeks without valid entry permit stamped in Libya. This could have not happened one on the inner German border.

The result was: quickly out of the desert. The malaise into which I had manoeuvred me, had to have an end. When walking through the city, I learned that were English oil prospector with a truck on the way to the coast. That would be but a good ride for me. Under a tarpaulin on the Leeward side of a friable clay wall, I drank first black, sweet tea. At a knee-high tables, a few men played cards and drank tea also. The shady tarpaulin flapped in the wind.