Perhaps one of the most select pieces of art work in the world.

Surely, this is one art gallery only the hardiest of travellers, will ever see...

If you had 5 months to spare, 30 tonnes of paint and enjoyed being creative when the temperatures rise into the 50's, degrees C that is! What would you paint?  In 1989 Jean Verame used the huge natural 'amphitheatre' of magnificent rocks around Ehi Kourne a few miles outside of Bardai, some miles north of the Tibesti Mountains in northern Chad, due south of Libya.  Using a spray gun, the blessing of the Chadian President and some helpers one would imagine, he turned a selection of khaki sandstone rocks into a kaleidoscope of colours from a gorgeous deep blue, spectacular purple, coral pink, to a crisp carbon black and snowy white.  http://www.jeanverame.com/anglais/video.php

The spectacular blue is now only visible beneath some of the small stones that make up several of the more individual pieces of patterned stone work but the huge rocks and boulders the core of the image remain.  Shades of ghostly whites and pink for all to see, despite 34 years of searing sun, freezing winter nights and the driving blasts of the Harmattan sands.  These strangely beautiful set of rocks may have lost their virginal crispness but they have gained the weathered beauty, the patina of age, their mystique is perhaps barely noticed by locals and yet is admired by a handful of tourists that journey each year through this remote region through one of the world's incredible art galleries. I wonder how long though Jean's art will last?

'Down the road' south of Bardai are some rock carvings, scratched into the soft sandstone,  a leagacy of times past, showing animals that are no longer seen in this neck of the woods, elephants, leopards and cattle. Despite billions of gallons of water hiding below the desert surface, this is now a world where only date palms, and the hardiest of animals survive Addax, Dorcas and Rhim gazelles to name a few. These carvings are found all over the Sahara in the soft sandstone, an eternal parchment telling tales of times past, of changed climates of perhaps happier times. All are unsigned, many are hundreds, some thousands  of years old. 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibesti_Mountains

I wonder what kind of legacy we will leave behind? Perhaps it will be a thing of beauty that will still be talked about 25 years on, or maybe like William Wilberforce, I saw a play about his life recently, it will be more enduring. 

I am on day 18 of a 42 day project reading Rick Warren's 'What on Earth am I here for ? (Zondervan 2013). It is thought provoking and one is reminded - What will I leave behind? What is my legacy? Ummm now that is food for thought.

A shortish walk in the middle of know where!

Eric Newby writes beautifully in his A Short walk in the Hindu Kush, one of his best, he crafts words in such a way that you walk the journey with him and can almost smell the fragrances! I wonder what he would have written had he been with me in this remarkable, little known region, in this barren yet beautiful part of Northern Chad. Today the skies are so clear you seem to be able to see forever.

The golden dust cloud rises up high into hot afternoon air making a distinctive wall trailing behind me marking my track as I bounce across the rough airstrip, the sand itself provides more effective braking than anything my brakes can offer. The wind has long since scoured a natural parking area onto the bed rock, as the nearest other aircraft is probably about 400 miles away, so finding a parking spot was not terribly difficult!

I secured my hotel d'avion for my two night stay, whilst my pax, engineers from the region's Aviation Authority carry out some routine work on a nearby communications network in what could only described as the in the middle of know where. If you look carefully below you can see them in the distance!

Supper was a tin of French Military beef lasagne, not bad actually, even had to have a mug of black instant coffee, whilst not usually my favourite made for a pleasant evening drink. As night fell with it's usual rapidity, so the wind began to pick up speed. I prepared my boudoir, tonight I decided the aircraft floor offered the best sot, my portable mattress, more like a large babies changing mat with one imagines a similar level of comfort fully explaining why babies cry when it is nappy/diaper time!

My not so comfy pillow was my puppet Jim Le Huray (everything has a dual purpose, as every kg counts) and was between the boarding stairs and the freight door, created the most marvellous wind tunnel as the desert windows began to really howl across the sands.  When it was time for slumber, closing the two lower doors with the top two open to the universe, removed worst effects of the gale that now gently and occasionally not so gently rocked the aircraft at it's 'mooring'. Then the display started, a million individual stars blinked on, suspended as background to the milky way as it swirled and illuminated it's majestic way across the inky blackness of space. A streak of light, zips across the sky, the image remaining  half a second after the errant rock has turned to vapour, it sets one's imagination racing*. The play that unfolds is magnificent, beautiful perhaps one of the few times awesome can be correctly used,  'He stretches out the heavens like tent.' (Psalm104:2) Eventually sleep moves across my thoughts pulling my eye lids closed.

So friday morning I wondered if I could make a phone call! I set out to climb the pile of rock before me what I guessed would be an hours walk away, perhaps 5km across the golden but firm sands before the heat of the day though at this time of year the temp is more in the mid upper 30's than 40's.

I kept were I could to the vehicle tracks, as we do fly MAG (Mines awareness group on occasions) and it was a delightful hike. I was able to set a good pace up the slopes as the rocks were generally very stable mixture of scree with the odd outcrop of what appeared to be crumbling sandstone. I decided about about third of the way up, that if I wished to continue flying perhaps thus far and no further as it was rather steep and arguably steeper on the descent. I doubt I would be missed till it was time to take-off, so one had to be careful! I then skirted around to the right maintaining my altitude till I could get a signal from a phone tower some 15km away in a small but important nearby village. I was able to ring a friend who had arrived there an hour an a half earlier after almost a week of driving across desert and mountains to do what I had done between 0645 and 1400 the day before. Managed two bars and so best of all I was able to ring my wife, Trish in Guernsey. Phone call achieved.

Anything after a bit of hard graft and effort, ah, how sweet it tastes!

* Made me think of Antoine de Saint Exupery author of the Little Prince. Published in 1943. A great read for young and old.

A Desert Hope

I thought I would ask the Poet at Jaybern to write poem about the desert and this is what he wrote, what do you think?

The golden sun glares down

sapphire skies stretch to the horizon.

Heat shimmers like waves

over the barren landscape.

Yet nothing moves.

Barren land lies tortured,

its surface cracked and split.

Each shattered fragment

crumbles at its edges.

Barren and crumbled.

The occasional withered stick

or sun bleached carcase

break the monotony

of the shimmering surface. 

This is a forgotten land.

Here in the midst of nothingness,

shattered, desperate souls live,

in a shattered desperate land.

Yet this stretch is set apart.

Here in the middle of nowhere

three tracks appear.

Unlike all other tracks;

these do not pass through,

they simply exist.

Three straight lines

scored on the barren land,

a trinity.

The tyre tracks bring

hope, help and healing,

doctors, teachers, and relief staff bring skills

and the materials for a better life,

but more important; MAF aircraft*

represent the coming of the message.

The tracks herald news,

great news.

John Carré Buchanan

22 February 2013

MAF stands for Mission Aviation Fellowship a charity which loves to bring help, hope and healing to remote people in remote communities, using small aircraft.
The photo's were taken by Biggles Abroad recently...

The Final desert despatch... Harmattan Season

A couple of weeks ago I was taking a team to a quiet part of Chad, one of the remoter parts of the world we fly into, my passengers included a couple of dentists with their kit, who would be rare visitors in this most beautiful part of this remarkable nation.  Much of Chad is covered by the most the most splendid golden sands, filling horizons as far as the eye can see, and some of the mountains could be scenery usually only found on Mars! Most of the time the dry air provides skies that are so clear you can see forever especial in the higher grounds.

Here we are giving some soldiers a lift into town from the airstrip

Pre-dawn tow down to the main apron to file flight plans,
 pick up weather and find any passengers

... but it was very different arriving early in the morning at our hanger in N'Djamena to pre-flight the aircraft and get it ready for it's day's work, at a time I might add when any truly sensible bird would be pondering if it was worth throwing off the sheets and popping out for a quick worm or in this neck of the woods, lizard! Driving through pre-dawn N'Djamena is like driving trhough a ghost town.

Visibility was down to 1500m due to sand and dust suspended in the air which whilst not the end of the world in my well equipped aircraft at an International Airport like the one here,  after all I could land if needed in only 700m visibility; though I would need 1200m to depart! However it is very different operating into simple airstrips in remote areas where weather reports are not so easy to come by and of course it is worth remembering that weather can get better, but it can also get worse on any given day! So you need much better visibility than this if you are going to head out  into the wild blue (or Khaki)  yonder and it did not look great enroute, at my destination or the airfield I would need to divert to if I could not land at my destination, a mere 1hr 50 flying time from where I was trying to get to!  All in all translating pilot speak into English, 'Time for coffee as we are remaining secure on terra firma for the day', as after all this is Haramattan season.*

The sky was a beautiful blue, the air temp slightly on the warm side of 42C, my aircraft's bright orange high viz paint scheme (standard issue for all aircraft based in Greenland, as it once was) contrasted beautifully with the silvery sand pouring along the airstrip in the fierce breeze, like staring into a hair dryer on full blast. Then on the edge of the sandy airstrip you could see it, a white wall tumbling down the runway, then the sandblast hit, one turned ones back into the sharp probing sand needles as the silver white cloud enveloped one, the silicon fog gave all and sundry a good shaking before it was gone in an angry cloud of dust, off to cause havoc to all who got in it's way. A couple more of it's friends gusted in but the patient that I was evacuating to N'Djamena after a car accident, arrived with an escort of soldiers and vehicles between 'visits', so I soon had him strapped into the stretcher and ready to go.  As I taxied the aircraft to my departure point I kicked up my own dust wall but needed little of the sand covered airstrip as I headed into the turbulent heat seared air, climbing bouncingly over the desert dunes to head the short trip back to the Capitol. It is Harmattan season.

This photo is the start of the wall of sand crossing the end of the airstrip  and actually looks quite harmless!

*Wikipedia on the Harmattan winds. In some countries in West Africa, the heavy amount of dust in the air can severely limit visibility and block the sun for several days,comparable to a heavy fog.It can even break the trunk of the pine trees, growing in that region, through their dryness. The effect caused by the dust and sand stirred by these winds is known as the Harmattan haze, which costs airlines millions of dollars in cancelled and diverted flights each year and risks public health by increasing meningitis cases.The interaction of the Harmattan with monsoon winds can cause  tornadoes. Humidity drops to as low as 15 percent and can result in spontaneous nosebleeds for some. The wind can cause severe crop damage.

A new day dawns, time for a pre-flight

The light from the milky way was glorious, one could almost read by the brightness of the stellar lights, the air was cooling rapidly and starting to get chilly,  as I pulled the sheet around my neck.  Lying in my mosquito tent (to protect from scorpions and other things) looking upwards through the gauze counting the uncountable.  The gentle whisper & rustle of the desert winds through the date palms was a soothing lullaby...

Twilight was upon me as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, stretched, remembered where I was and sat up. The cool of the brand new day is truly wonderful in Africa.  I fumble with the zip on the canopy, check carefully that my flying boots were empty of any little visitors, in the dull morning light. Shave and freshen up, already the dawn's golden sun is lighting up the skyline. I took a short walk,  then saw if there was a cup of tea ready, as I could hear chatter, coughs and woodsmoke wafted across the little dirt courtyard, I was ready for the day. Well almost...

Already the morning air is warming up fast, it's a turbulent trip weaving around rocky outcrops on the moonscape before a wild ride over the yellow desert sands, as we head out to the aircraft which I had abandoned into the hands of some soldiers camped up for the night in the Sahara.

WATCH

The pre-flight is essential  when you have a days flying ahead of you, even more so when the days work is going to take you over mountains, surely some of the roughest terrain in the world. You need to know the aircraft is at it's best, that all is well and it is ready for the day ahead.  So electrics, fuel oil, integrity of the aircraft structure are all checked at and all the bits of aircraft that should move - do, and those that shouldn't - don't.

Before I head out to the airstrip though I do need to do my own personal pre-flight yup teeth cleaned, hair combed well what is left of it and visit to the restroom/loo/hole in the ground. Then despite at times the temptation to skip it and press on, I take a short time out to collect my thoughts together. This I do in conjunction with 'The Manual', a compact book that I have found really useful and enjoyable (available from CVM or Amazon), it has a short undated thought for the day, a simple prayer and it's just part of my pre-flight. 

I also keep a 'moleskin' journal that I jot down any thoughts that might be worth returning to at a later date, along with the Manual, I have a nifty little Gideon's New Testament. Essential tools for any man* to have in his flight bag, along with my charts and other other useful stuff.

So trust you enjoyed todays blog, travel well.

* or woman, you may want to find a different set of thoughts for the day

A whisper in the sand

I do love words and whilst neither a writer or a poet on paper, perhaps I am both at heart.

 Poet at Jayburn inspired me to put a few words tentatively down - down tentatively.  

It does seem that sometimes you can make words spin, turn dance and sing, so they create an image, painted in such a way that perhaps it is only yours to see. 

                  Worn out...   

         they rest on Faya's sands, 

scorched by the silent sun, 

squint under azure skies. 

Weary feet,

search for refreshment in the season of the rain? 

Little chance!
 Sweat dries before it wets.
The cloudless blue above an aurum carpet below, 
so rich in a one off colour that lay beneath the sole.

  Rocky outcrops stand aloof, proud guardians of the silence.  

Broken only by the abrasive whisper of sand upon sand, 
it swirls around rocky outcrops,
 like children playing chase, 
kiss me, 
catch me, ssssssss, 

it quietly covers their footprints in the sand.  

A few reports from 12°6′N 15°2′E. Mentioned in dispatches No 2

Here are a few more notes from my knee board from my last flying assignment in Chad. It was my 9th assignment there but my first time during the rainy season and this year it seemed to be a really wet one.

Incredible, after several hundred miles of desert I spot some 8000ft below me fresh water,  no plant life visible. Amazing!

I land in Faya Largeau, a desert out post, an oasis of greens and golden roads, it has an old and very large tarmac runway built by the military once upon a time, laid forever on the on desert lands. The French military occupy an amazing fort that looks like a Beau Geste film set, with the possibility of Gary Cooper about to enter screen right at any moment!  The deserts sands are so so beautiful, so soft and the aureolus grains tumble through the fingers like water. The date palms know where the life giving water  is and it is they that have helped establish this rocky green Island in the desert ocean where the crystal clear liquid freely breaks through to the surface providing a safe haven for all and sundry from the crippling effects of the fierce sun but the sandy tide is eager to swamp and engulf the town. Probably half the buildings are already submerged under tons of sand and many a 30ft palm has only the top 15ft showing! The old prison, guillotine block stands as a reminder of days past, I reluctantly use this old photo of myself in 2007 below (all the rest are from a few months ago) but the arch  makes the point rather well ...

In another oasis we find some amazing carvings on the sandstone showing Ostriches, cattle, elephants and a Cheetah. Just below FC's hand. None of which can be found probably within over 400 miles of here. The desert has claimed much territory for it's own. As an aside there  is a story about the bearded bod, so you best see slightly earlier blogg.

Gateau de Semoule, Salmon riz legumes and Tajine d'agneau, the french military rations are tres bon. Cooking a Le Bistro meal under the milky way in Simon and Anju's small rough court-yard was alot of fun. These are two amazing young Swiss folk who are running a langauge centre just down the road from Le bistro! A mere 6 nights & 7 days drive from the capital or about 1700km, though only 5 hours by Caravan, when I say Caravan I mean 208 rather than Camel!

Their job description must be very varied as we 
brought up a simple but rather clever life saving 
device that passes an electric current through a snake
or scorpion bite. Here Simon is treating a delightful 
localman who was stung by a scorpion that he had 
thought was a mouse! These guys are incredibly 
tough by  our standards and so to say this sting 
hurts is an understatement. The treatment made a 
dramatic  difference and it was the fourth person in 
the one week they had had the device that 
they had treated. The sting often reduces people to 
unconscious and in Faya will often kill their victims.

Flew some folk down to Moundu and overnighted at the TEAM Guest House. Went into a shop in that was quite well stocked, to look for supper,  though if you count the number of actual different items available it is food for thought.
It reminded me of a previous trip in Chad when I had an unexpected night stop and I was able to buy a 1.5 litre bottle of water and a pack of sour cream pringles for my evening meal, a balanced diet!

David Ott 

Here is one of our smaller pilots Jim Le Huray with David, his wife a medical Dr and small girls and their home school teacher and a nurse. They have work for Cooperation Service International have been in Ati 4 years. They are typical of the sort of people we fly, enthusiastic warm hearted and eager to make a difference to the people they work alongside. Rather like this quote David made “MAF has been a huge blessing to us, it’s been a life line to our work out here. Especially during the rains when they are the only way to get food and medicine and to get us in and out of our home and for work, we are thankful for the partnership. We have worked with about 6 different pilots over this period and just want to thank-you as they have been a huge blessing to our work both professionally and personally”

Whilst waiting for the weather to clear in N'djamena I had a chance to do a spot of weeding! I have pounded grain, dug ditches, shot bows and arrows, seldom can one call 'Flying for Life' with MAF dull! 

It was hot, the ground was thirsty despite the rain, the people grinned. Mother seemed happy to have 5 mins break as I snapped the weeds and we laughed together. For me it was fun and a photo, for them it was a lively hood and a full stomach.