Some dunes are easier to handle, others more difficult. The same goes for the motorbikes. And at some point it was simply too difficult to keep lifting that "heavy cow" in the dunes so we opened the garage door of my truck-home in the middle of the dunes and put the cow into the stable. And so its shepherd also got an insight into the adrenaline of dune crossing with... well, if that was a cow, then this must surely be a whale.

The last section of route till the table mountain Tembain with fast flat area and a few symbolic dune-crossings was a piece of cake in comparison with the dunes that had taken us the full previous day of struggle. The guys have enjoyed on their bikes, even my horses have accelerated to more than 70 kph! The last part, which should take us crosswise to Ksar Ghilan, was so full of small fresh dunes that it was not only the heavy cow who was being tortured, even I had to be criss-crossing with my apartment in all directions, the least in direction Ksar. And it was on Thursday evening when the house was again hanging between two dunes. I just brought it onto a level surface and shouted "camp!"

This wind is the one that I was talking about two posts ago. The wind that changed our plans. The one that changed the otherwise fast piste into a never-ending area of small dunes neither Sašo, nor me had recognised this time. The next morning we therefore made a U-turn with our cavalry and took a well-known track to the 35 km-distant Douz instead of covering the 40 kilometres to Ksar. But even this piste I barely recognised although actually knew it well. The last time I was pushing my bike's throttle all the way and drifted through the corners, this time we were all slowly and easily "entertaining" us with the small fresh dunes criss-crossing the piste. And there was definitely no sight nor sound of the "full throttle".