What a result!

We're at the back of the pack, second to last, with an 0820hrs kick-off time. The weather is overcast and I'm not feeling optimistic. But heigh-ho, we'll give it our best shot.

First we have to get the Beast out of Parc Ferme, then we have 10 minutes for service. I forgot to mention that we'd had to remove the lockwire from the restictor last night (under the supervision of Lionel Carre, Technical Delegate of the FIA), and the first job this morning was for Richard to re-do this, within the 10 minutes. And then clean the windscreeen...

The waiting is of course the worst bit. And there's plenty of that, before you're on the start line. Then...how can I describe it? Your heart rate has already peaked, and once you're moving it gets back to normal. Almost.

We only have the roadbook, the Terratrip, and the waypoint for the next PC. Once we've lost the way, the only option is to straight-line it to the next PC. Which means crossing stone-fields at idling speed, which isn't a lot of fun. But we kept on finding the PCs, collecting their stamps, and ended up at after 240km at the service point, followed by an Emirati who had no nav equipment. Stage 3 started off in the same vein - we were lost, and had to endure the rigours of the stone-fields once more. Then we got into the sands around the Inland Sea - no easier for navigation, but more fun to drive.

Eventually, we're at the finish! We get into Parc Ferme for the last time and there are only seven cars there - how did that happen? Some of the haven't got a full set of PC stanps. Surely we must get penalised for our cross-country excursions, but it seems everyone else had the same problems. But where's Richard?

3km after leaving service, the radiator on the road car (which I'd just driven 650km from Dubai) split. Oh, and it's now raining. And he's 125km away from the bivouac. But by now, Ian Cooper is at Sealine with his trusty steed, a rented Pajero. So, leaving Sheila at Sealine, we head off through the gathering gloom and intensifying rain to rescue Richard. By the time we arrive, he's fixed the split rad with epoxy and we have enough water to re-fill it. Our joy is however shortlived - the split re-opens and Ian ends up towing the stricken road car back to Doha on the trailer. (Rented cars are, of course, eminently suited for such abuse.)

However, our mood is lightened by news from Sealine. Sheila, my trusty co-driver, has just driven the race car over the ceremonial ramp into (wait for it) 5th place!Mabbsy is an unbelievable 2nd, and Mark is 4th in the Buggy. Somehow, the penalties for our late arrival at Parc Ferme have disappeared, and our off-course excursions have resulted in a penalty of a mere 2hrs 15mins - but only three finishers had fewer penalties.

Sheila somehow manages to drive the steering-challenged Beast back to Doha, and the evening chez Ian and Maxine dissolves into an alcoholic haze of mutual congratulation. It's been, as Streaky would say, emotional. What a result!