This is the report from day six, the turning point.
As a test run ahead of the Peking to Paris Motor Challenge,
we’re now past the halfway point of the twelve-day Sahara Challenge.
Do take a look at the earlier reports too!
The previous day-5 report is here
↓ ↓
Setting out from Spain, day six brings us here.
In outside temperatures I never could have imagined, driving several hundred kilometres a day, both of us drained of strength and sometimes running fevers, we just keep pushing forward, further and further, toward the finish — but for the past few days the brakes haven’t been working well, so we’ve been stopping to adjust, stopping to adjust, over and over.
And on top of that, another worry piled on: the desert driving over the previous days had worn the tires down badly, and we needed to swap in the spare before it actually went flat!
The heat had already gone past its absolute limit… and still, I refuse to give up!
My T-shirt was crusted white with sweat-salt, caked in sand, my hands covered in oil, but none of that bothered me.
It wasn’t only our car — after all, these are classic cars, so everyone was pushing on through repeated maintenance stops.
Deciding we absolutely had to get the spare tire ready today, we left the route and headed into town to find a shop that dealt with tires.
The route map was useless for this, so we found our own way and hurried into town
How many hours did we drive? At this rate there was no way we’d reach tonight’s lodging on schedule. But we had to find one today!!! — and just as that panic was setting in, as if arranged by God, what looked like a tire shop appeared.
“Hellooooooo!” I called out loudly, but no one was there.
“Hellooooo,” I called again, pushing further inside, and it turned out to be lunchtime — I was told, “eat with us” (laughs).
No, no… this really isn’t the time for that… But we ended up waiting a while anyway.
Then some kids showed up. Well, sure — a Japanese person out here must be rare, right?
There’d been that incident during the desert driving where kids who’d “helped” ended up making off with someone’s luggage entirely, so — I shouldn’t be suspicious, but I also can’t let myself be taken advantage of! With that in mind,
once again, my strategy of Japanese-lesson diplomacy to make friends.
Me… I’m not exactly the sharpest tool, so making friends with kids is something I’m actually good at, even back in Japan.
Teaching them rock-paper-scissors, teaching them songs, we became proper friends in no time.
And meanwhile the actual tire… things were still moving at this leisurely pace.
An hour and a half had already gone by at this point… when were they actually going to get to it?
In the meantime, we checked over everything that had taken damage on the desert and dirt roads, reinforcing what had gotten badly worn.
And finally, the work got under way!!
But then — this is a 1929 car, after all, so getting the tire off wasn’t remotely simple,
he vanished off somewhere else, and even after he came back it took roughly another four hours just to get the tire off. The tools simply didn’t fit…
We finally managed to get it off, and then couldn’t get the inner tube out (ugh).
Time just kept slipping away, and then it hit me — we hadn’t eaten at all. If I’d known it would go like this, I should have just eaten when they told me to earlier.
In any case, it was one step forward, one new problem, over and over.
By around the six-hour mark, we were both at the edge of our physical limits.
We fell quiet, and time crept by, at a loss.
I decided, anywhere would do, I just needed a little sleep.
We weren’t giving up, but neither was the craftsman. It was genuinely moving to watch.
Since this was a test run for the real Peking to Paris event, I treated even this as something we could learn from and improve,
taking notes and pushing the work forward without giving up.
But… our physical strength was truly at its limit…
Somehow, some way, it was finally finished, but by then a full ten hours had passed and it was pitch dark.
At that final finish, we were both moved, breaking into applause and tears.
That refusal to give up, that determination to help however it took, came through so clearly — if I ever get the chance, I’d love to see him again.
After all that time and effort he poured into the work, he never once tried to overcharge us — what I ended up paying was just a little over 3,000 yen.
I wanted to give him something as thanks, but all I had left was water, not even any food.
“Thank you!” “Thank you!” — with smiles and a handshake, and from there we set off again,
driving for several more hours toward tomorrow morning’s starting point.
The route map was useless to us by now. We just followed whatever direction the GPS pointed,
driving on toward the start of day seven.
Stay tuned for the rest!