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Old 01-01-2015, 01:06 PM   #1
SteveDennehy OP
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Amageza goes to Dakar 2015


goes to Dakar





After the successful running of the fourth Amageza rallye in November 2014, a lot of the competitors donated their satellite tracker deposits to be used by the organiser of the Amageza, Alexander Nel (aka Camelman) to take up a fantastic offer from ASO to come and experience the 2015 Dakar Rallye from behind the organisational scenes

Hopefully this thread will give you a pillion seat to this journey

I will try and update this as I receive information from Alexander. Enjoy
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Old 01-01-2015, 01:12 PM   #2
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Amageza to Dakar 2015: Day 1

It all still seemed a bit surreal. Not one to get excited about stuff, I can say that as the dude at the boarding gate in Cape Town International pleaded for the last passengers to IMMEDIATELY BOARD, making me have to up my leisurely pace to 4,5 km/h, I felt a ping of excitement. About the same as when you’re blasting down a river-bed and you’re faced with a drop-off.

A day after the Amageza 2014 was finished, I was informed that the competitors are sponsoring me a Dakar trip from their tracker deposits, okay, most of them. I was worried. With only 6 months to plan Amageza 2015, could I spare 2 weeks? Andrew Johnson and Justin Bennets were adamant. Go, they said. Devil and a deep place. You live once. Was’nt this why you started Amageza? I say to myself. I chat to my wife. I have not been home the most of 2014. Now I have to leave over Christmas and New Year. Go, says my wife. I’m a lucky man. Who would have thought it, when in 2011 I strapped a sat-phone to my handlebars and a 14 man emergency kit from Dischem on the rear of my bike and chased after the first Amageza entrants, that I would be going to Dakar 4 years later. Invited by A.S.O, organisers of the most difficult rally raid on planet earth, the Dakar Rally. I’m a believer. Work your nuts off, do no evil, respect thy neighbour,* and success has no choice but to follow.



Settling in for the 8 hour flight to Doha (cheapest flight) I discovered onboard wifi and $5 later was working on the 2015 Amageza Entry form. With cars joining us for 2015, there was quite some work to be done before entries could open. During the past week I had several calls from guys in Europe wanting to come down for the 2015 Amageza.



Surrounded by crying kids, sweaty feet and chicken or beef, we got to Doha. Already a bit miff from the flight I was faced with a 9 hour wait till the flight to Sao Paulo. At R2500 I was not going be staying in the transit hotel, and wandered around for the first two hours in a terminal bigger than Canal Walk shopping center. With 24 hour duty-free shops and a food court the size of a rugby field, it was quite a mission to wade my way through 10 000 passengers speaking every language on planet earth. Eventually I found a seat less hard than the chrome steel chairs and munched on some pringles which cost me more than a bottle of wine at home. Noticing a black face in a security uniform, I stretched out my hand in the way known to only men from the dark continent and in a flash me and the guard from Kenya was chatting a storm. Around 02:00 their time, I went looking for the so-called ‘quiet rooms’, just to find them packed like a mini-bus taxi from Khayelitsha on a public holiday.



Being awake for 16 hours at Doha airport. Zombi face

So I sat myself down on the steel chairs, hooked my head behind the rest and had a nap for hour. At 03:30 the 2000 transit people increased to at least 10 000 again, but I was already in zombi mode. Felt like I was back on the Amageza trying to sort the damn timing! So would begin day 2 of my Dakar Mission...
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Old 01-02-2015, 02:40 AM   #3
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You've earnt this trip.
Very happy to see a thread about the "behind the scenes" goings on of the Dakar organisation.
Brilliant start to it, so don't keep us waiting too long for updates, please mate. Enjoy every minute and take lots of free stuff.

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Old 01-02-2015, 03:40 AM   #4
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Amageza to Dakar 2015: Day 2

The excitement of going to Dakar was a faded memory like a chappie for 1c. I was tired, my feet hurt from circumnavigating the terminal building for 6 hours in clothes two days old and feeling a bit like a homeless person in Camps Bay. As I joined the 100m long line for the boarding to Sao Paulo, one could easily pick out the faces of passengers like me that had spent a long night at the airport and had the resigned look of a roadworks-worker on the N7 outside Klawer. You know the one with the flag to warn the cars to slow down? That one. The only part that will change when changing flights is the passenger next to you and the number of babies crying their heads off around you. No amount of earplugs can solve that. Murphy had once more placed me in the isle, and this time my left elbow would bear the hammering of food trolleys and people.

At least I had a nice Australian couple next to me. They told me about Australia and I told them about the Amageza. Never let a marketing opportunity go by! As the plane took off, and we were once more faced with chicken or beef and no wifi, my tired butt muscles were joined by aching knees. I was not build for sitting that long. How the hell do you sleep on a plane anyway. If you sit up the dude in front of you smacks you in the stomoch as he forces every inch out of his seat to recline it to the maximum. Having no option I have to follow suit, then you sit at a very awkward angle of 80 degrees. You’re not lying, you're not straight. Then the dude who wants more booze and food and the other dude who marches 200km around the plane wacking your elbow after each loop. Chicken or beef sir. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We land at Sao Paulo 13 hours later. No, we can’t get off. Their is a 1.5 hour technical layover, and we have to stay on board. Is this your back-pack sir? F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Joined by new crowd. Us old-timers are sitting with socks, looking bedraggled with a blanket over or knees and a expression of resignation on our stubbled faces. The plane takes off. Chicken or beef sir…? F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2 hours later we land in Buenos Aires. We old-timers cheer. For once I jump up, grab my back-pack from the overhead locker and start pushing. Nope, no use. We wait. Back comes my road-worker face. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Off the plane. Everybody excited. I wonder if I really don’t need a visa. With the suddenness of the ticket to Dakar organised by the competitors and KTM SE club, I did not really have time to research the subject in depth. With only 6 months to get the next Amageza organised, and adding cars, and racing through South-Africa, Botswana and Namibia for 2015, visa’s was not high on my priority list.

I scope out the operation. Official nods, you go forward, present passport, smile for a camera, put your thumb on a scanner then you go, or not. Some people take longer than others. Its 22:00 local time. I have been awake for 34 hours. I try to change my road-worker face to something friendlier. I think it looks like a smirk. I hope my eyes says I’m friendly, please let me in. Minion face. Okay, that might work.
My turn. I walk up, make a sound that can pass for a hello, hi, ola. Guy takes my passport, scans it, I look into camera, scan my thumb. Welcome. Huh?, thanks.
Get my bag, grap a trolley. The left rear wheel wobbles. I discard trolley and take another one. Go through customs. Customs guy says something that sounds like oito. Ehmm, does that mean counter 8? What’s 8 in Spanish? F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I go to any que. I look back to see if the officer is drawing his fire-arm. Not. Good. I whack my crap on the scanner and walk around. Pick it up. Still no gun. Cool.
I walk through the electronic sliding door. In front of me must have been someone famous. People come running and shouting, crying, laughing. WTF? I walk on, and out of the terminal. Guys walk up. Taxi? No. One can smoke outside. I think this is a good time to take out my emergency-use Camel Ultralight, number one, ‘You are going to die of lung cancer’-branded smokes, and spy out the operation. Funds are limited. I need to figure out all the options. Smoking has its advantages. Its gives one time in less than ideal situations to do something while scoping out the lay of the land. Its a habit I have had since working in Uganda. Always have smokes at hand. It solves most of the worlds red-tape when you offer a smoke, a cop or just have one yourself. Does not mean I’m a smoker, I’m also not an alcoholic. I have a drink when I feel like one, and a smoke when I feel like one. I’m lucky that way the chain-smokers say. Yeah, whatever.

An hour later I find a shuttle service after Googling lonely planet. I draw money. Credit Card works. R50 bank charges. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On the bus, heading to city center. Girl to the right chatting to driver. I hear a lot of the word parque. It means why. I get my phone out with Google maps and see if we’re heading in the right direction. We are. I nod off. 2 seconds later I wake up, check map, nod off. Eventually we get to city center and I disembark. Baggage tag? Huh, what? That’’s my bag. Tag please. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Its gone. I empty my pockets. It falls out of my passport.
I stand at bus stop. It seems I’m about 5 or 6 blocks away from the Grand Hotel Dora. I stand around. How do I get a taxi in Spanish? No free wifi. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I go to the info desk. Dude speaks a bit English. He calls a cab. Cap driver cannot speak Ingles. I show him my reservation on my phone. He starts the meter and starts driving. Google maps. Still going in the right direction. 5 minutes later I disembark and walk to Hotel front door. Its locked. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I knock. There is a bergie sleeping on the side walk. Looks like a local Capie. A dude approaches from inside and opens the door. Ola. Ola. Ingles? Yes, little bit. Sjoe. Dankie tog boeta. Weird look. Sorry, gracias. I have a booking? Si, Mr Alexander. Si. Here’s your key. Gracias.

Up the lift. Find the door. Place the card in slot. Nothing. Do it again. Nothing. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Do it slower. It works. Green light flashes, I’m in. Advertised as a four star, it looks exactly like the Pofadder Hotel. Spanish Cable TV. Its 00:30. I think its the 26th, or 27th. I have no idea. I take my shoes off and walk to the bathroom. I feel something under foot, I lift my foot. Dead cockroach. About the size of a Parktown Prawn. I chuck its cadaver in the toilet. It won’t go down. I take a shower, then get on the wifi and send my wife a whatsup that I have arrived. All good.

Last though that goes through my sleep-deprived brain is that it could be worse. I could have to worry that my bike have arrived from France and that a 14 day race still lay ahead. I spare a thought for the competitors. Dakar aint for sissies. I pass out.

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Old 01-02-2015, 03:45 AM   #5
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Amageza to Dakar 2015: Day 3

You know that cartoon where the character starts to cry, just before crying there is this buildup of tears, until gravity takes over and tears go in every direction? Well that was just about what my face looked like.
My biggest fear after fearing that the sky might fall on my head, was to miss breakfast. No matter where I find myself on planet earth, eggs, bacon, toast. And in that order please. Hard, crispy, brown. Not today.
I was faced with some cereal and midget portions of fruit, a croissant with some melted cheese and cheese cake. Cheese Cake? WTF!
How do you ask for bacon and egg in Spanish? ‘Tocino y huevos por favor?’ The way I pronounced it it might have sounded a bit like I was looking for a tortilla humvee, because I was met with a blank expression. Could also be because as I came into the dining area I attacked the coffee jug with a religious zest, making funny noises and sounding like a television evangelist.
See the order of operation when waking up goes like this: Start a fire, stove, kettle, anything that produces heat and boil water. While the water is heating, dash for the toilet, long-drop, bush, side of the road, for a morning relieve, ensuring not to take 1 second longer than absolutely necessary so I have enough time to add coffee to a mug before the water boils. This way I get caffeine in my system in the shortest possible time. But not this morning.
After waking up I immediately looked for the stand with the kettle and cup. Small and round with a assortment of Nescafe sachets and Red Roses tea. You know that little tray you find even in a guesthouse in Hotazhel, normally accompanied by a kettle of various sizes and age? Nothing on the first sweep. I must have missed it. I sat up straighter in bed and scanned the four by six meter room like a wife looking for a new pair of boots with her husbands credit card in a shoe store. Nothing. I looked in the cupboard. Nothing. In the fridge under the box television. Nothing. Bathroom? Nothing…….. F@#$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was four AM. Resigned, I started up my laptop to be confronted with a email from a dude who owed so many people money I thought he had left planet earth. WTF? His race would be on TV. Why tell me? Oh well. Whatever.
So now you know why the steward in the dining area was eyeing me with a bit of nervous suspicion. Regaining my composure after two coffee’s and my epic failure in ordering bacon and eggs, I approached the tables hosting the meagre food offering.
To the left of the assortment of croissants, was a toaster machine. The one with the conveyor. So I chucked in two slices of toast while scoping out how to make the best out of the food on offer. Out slid the first slice of toast. I waited for the second slice, nothing. I looked inside the machine. Nothing. I looked at the back, and saw that my second slice of bread had escaped the heat and dove onto the floor. I bent over and picked it up, brushing off whatever may be stuck there. As I straightened up, the dude from the kitchen was looking at me with a look of horror on his face. In a flurry of Spanish and hand speed that would have fooled David Blaine, my toast was gone, and a fresh slice was subjected to the oven. The last time I saw such hand speed was while doing basic training the OC came in and the dude in the bunk next to mine hid his um ‘female anatomy’ magazine!

Three bowls of serial, two croissants, four slices of bread (none escaped after the failed first attempt), and two cups of coffee later, I had stocked up on enough carbs to survive the day. It was time to go check out the city.
My objectives were simple. Find where A.S.O was staying. Find the best places to hide around the hotel to be able to make a surprise visit on a unsuspecting Mr Etienne Lavigne, and try and sell him the idea to make the Amageza rally part of the Dakar Series. Find public transport to the Techno-thing where scrutineering will be. Find bacon and eggs.
Armed with my Runbo phone that is so heavy I do curls while walking, I started out in the general direction of the Sheraton Hotel. Apparently they have a bit more money than the Amageza organization and stay in nice hotels. Yip, only 200 metres from my hotel. Striking distance. A left and a right later and I was in a 2km long street lined with shops. Every 10 metres was a guy shouting ‘cambio, cambio’. Money exchangers. Well, if I had any money to change, sure I would follow you in the alley for a exchange. Tjop. I’m from Africa. Oldest trick in the book. There was a big-ass mall called the Galarias Pacifico. And there was a Dakar stand. Nice. Pity I can’t afford it. And so started a day of wandering the streets armed with Google Maps.
I wanted to talk to my wife. No matter where I am, I always try to talk to her at least once a day, even at home. Haha. Only joking. But I had no local sim card, and she was at her parents and no stable internet for Skype, so I had to find a open space where I could make a call with the satellite phone.
On google maps I saw what could be a park, and made my way there. I can say this for this city. It is quite clean. There is plenty of free wifi around town. The traffic is quite orderly, the people very friendly and the dogs speak Afrikaans. Yip. The park I went to was a dog park. Dogs sounded the same as back home.
To get a signal for the GPS to get the position before I can make a call, (yes, the phone needs to know it may call. Seems some countries don’t allow sat phones. Wonder why...lol), I need a open space with at least 45 degree clear upwards in a 100m radius for the initial acquisition. So I stood in the middle of the park, in the 32 degree sun sweating like a gringo while the Inmarsat Pro did its thing. After about 10 minutes, I could call.
Now speaking on a sat phone is like speaking on a two-way radio. You talk, the other person listens, then he speaks, and you listen. Don’t try and speak at the same time, else the whole thing goes psycho and you hear alien talk. After 4 years of Amageza, my wife knows the drill, and we had a great 2 minutes. All good. It was great hearing her voice after three days.

I found a Mcdonald's. On the Big Mac index they were a bit overpriced. A Big Mac upsize with Coke and fries will set you back 80 pesos, about R90. Now ordering that Big Mac was something of a new adventure.
See, they have only the highlights on the big backlit boards.Then there are little automated machines with pictures. So after figuring out which picture looked the most like a Bic Mac, I joined the queue armed with Google translate and repeating the sentence in my head, ‘Un Big Mac grande por favor’. It was my turn. ‘Ola’, ‘Ola. Un Big Mac grande por favor’, I said. ‘Si’ she said swiftly followed by a lot of words. I assumed it meant cold drink, and so I said ‘Coke’ and then more words and then more words and a finger at the till readout. 80.00. Out came the Nedbank card. Yip, all good. I stand back. What now? I see the other people have formed another queue. I fall in line. When I get to the front, there is my order. Sweet.
The day was drawing to a close. Returning to the hotel I decided I had had enough of Spanish and trawled the internet for a full movie to watch. Found Lethal Weapon 1. Nice to watch it. Funny to see the mobile phones they used in the movie. Looks like a car portable jumper battery pack with an aerial and a handset. Ten minutes before the end I could not keep my eyes open anymore. Time to nap.
I had not achieved much more than finding the Sheraton Hotel and ordering a Big Mac, but hey, I have to start somewhere. Tomorrow I will find the bus to the Techopolis. Maybe tomorrow some other rally-nut’s will start arriving, and I could speak English to someone. Yip, tomorrow was going to be a big day. Wonder if somewhere on a flight over the ocean a competitor was worried that he might have forgotten his cold gear at home. The next day I would meet such a competitor.





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Old 01-02-2015, 04:19 AM   #6
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Old 01-02-2015, 11:51 AM   #7
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Dakar: Day 4 & 5

My hotel door speaks Spanish. Once again it would not open. No matter how many times I slid the stupid little card into the slot, the green light would not come on. Its 23:00. I really would like to enter my room. So out came Google translate ‘la tarjeta se rompe’, card is broken. I press the speaker icon so I will pronounce it correctly when I go down to reception, and remove the door card from the slot, and the door unlocks. WTF?

I had been chatting to Guillaume Martens in the foyer. After we made contact on Facebook, he decided to join me in the Gran Hotel Dora with his girlfriend. She had long ago decided that we were boring and had left us downstairs talking rallies and Dakar and bikes. Guillaume was 50 years old, had waited his whole life to do this and had done 9 rallies, including Amageza in preparation. He was as cool as a cucumber, still needing to find some warm riding kit for the cold stage over the Andes.

Well, earlier today I had resumed my wandering around Buenos Aires. Okay lets start from the beginning, shall we.

As per normal I had woken up at 03:30. So after making myself another cup of black hot-water tap coffee I settled on sorting out Amageza admin, and working on the 2015 Amageza rules. After a very exciting 3 hours, I decided to go for a run. Downstairs in the foyer I was once more met by the night porter who looks just like Dar Adal from Homeland. A friendly ‘Ola’ and I was out the door. For some reason unknown to mankind, I headed West, thinking that the sea lay in that direction, and took off. The air had cooled down with maybe 3 degrees. It was still hot and humid. And so I ran past the dog park of yesterday, and so the roads got narrower, and the shops smaller and the streets dirtier. So after what I thought was far enough, I swung a left for a block, left again and made my way back to the Hotel. Dar Adal was waiting at the door with a puzzled look on his face. I would only know why the following day.

In my room I whipped out my gym in a bag. Okay its more like bungee cords with two handles and did my 30 minute upper-body workout. Then sweating like a politician in front of Thuli Madonsela, I jumped under a cold shower. The shower is inside a bath. So that comes in handy when one needs to wash clothes. Do all in one go. Even got my own clothes line over the bath. Tell you, my Pofadder-special four-star Parktown Prawn Hotel is not so bad after all!
Another session in front of the laptop, and a 3 hour nap brought me to 16:00. Time to go explore again. First off to the Galerías Pacífico for some good coffee and a laptop session, then off to MacD for some dinner. That brought me to 19:00. Enough work already! Out into Florida walkway still milling with people across Av Córdoba and this time I just kept straight. I had figured out which way is the sea. So off I went in a Northeasterly direction, and found a beautiful park called Plaza General San Martín. The sun was beginning to set and everywhere you could see people running, walking their dogs, playing with their kids and couples sitting on the grass embankment holding hands. I noticed Guillaume and his lovely girlfriend sitting there as well but seeing that I had already stolen time from her earlier today I gave them a miss and headed towards the train station called Estación Retiro. I had never seen a subway before, and headed downstairs. Pretty cool. And pretty lady cops. Guys let me tell you in no uncertain terms that if you were single you could do worse than getting arrested by one of them. I regress, sorry. I was still on a mission to find easy public transport to the Tecnopolis in Villa Martelli where documentation and scrutineering would start on New Years day. I could not find a connection in the underground, so up I went to the train station. Not there either. But I was finding it difficult to figure out all the names and where they fit into where I want to go. I had earlier scoped out the Tecnopolis website using Google translate, and seems one could take the bus or busses, or the train. Very difficult to figure out which one.

The days are kind of melting together. I have found a rhythm of sorts. Stand up at 04:45 do some work, breakfast at 07:00, work till 10:00, then see what’s happening around me with the other teams or Malle Moto guys, meet up with them or go for a stroll around town. Tomorrow I have to go fetch my gate pass at the Technopolis. After having postponed the trip for 5 days, I will have to make a plan and get there now.
Gilliam rocked up with his bike at our hotel. Caused quite a sensation with many passers-by wanting to take pics. He still had to do some admin work at the Technopolis so loaded his girlfriend on the back with his helmet, and with his peak cap on and MX Goggles, iPhone on Google maps, he departed in the general direction of the Technopolis. Met him again later that evening. Says the cops asked him where his helmet was, then saw the Dakar number and waved him on. Rock star status these boys have!

At this stage I have found short-cut’s to where I need to be. Mcdonalds: 200m, through the little centre to the left of my hotel. Park: 100m straight up the road. ATM, 3 blocks down, and left. Free Wifi: Hotel and Galaria Mall. Bit of a bore right now as all the fun stuff like figuring out how to ask for milk in my coffee now sorted. My personal objective for today is completing the entry mechanism for the 2015 Amageza Rally. My wife says I flew all the way to Buenos Aires to come sit and work in my hotel room. That might be partially true, but somethings just have to be done. I’m sure getting to the Technopolis is going to be a whole new adventure.













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Old 01-02-2015, 12:07 PM   #8
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From Alex:
Guys, sorry for the delay in reporting. Its been crazy here in Buenos Aires. I have 2 minutes to get to breakfast, and then run and meet Albert Hendinhous at his Hotel, then run like crazy to get the ASO bus to the Dakar Bivouac. It cost about a$ to get there, so catching the bus saves money. I have ASO orginization tags



Dakar: Day 6 & 7

Some photos

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Could this be the promised adventure derivative of the Honda rallye bike?

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Eish I love rallye nav gear...

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Wessel's bike, all dressed up

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Old 01-03-2015, 01:33 AM   #9
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A preview from the next update...

[IMG] photo 1_zps8ceb7233.jpg
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