The rest day – Thursday 12 April 2012

Having climbed into my sleeping bag at about 2am, and expecting a lay in with no chance of the Berbers dropping our tent around our ears, we were all pretty disappointed to be up before 6am, trying to keep the tent from blowing away.  Since I was awake and not having a load of fun I decided to get my feet looked at early on.  The blisters hadn’t really got any worse but my feet were starting to be really sore, and the spa hotel flip flops I’d taken to wander around camp in weren’t much good at protecting tender tootsies from the sharp jagged rocks all over the bivouac.  

Doc Trotters were pretty busy by this time.

I picked up my water ration for the day on the way back to the tent.  No sooner had I got back in than it started to rain, and then hail, all liberally mixed with a massive sandstorm.  Apparently hail was a first for the MdS, still I’d have been happy if it had held out until the following year.  The tents weren’t waterproof and acted like sponges, becoming really heavy once they got wet.  Most of us in the tent were occupied keeping the sides up by leaning against them, whilst Elisabet took time out to cook her dinner!  Definitely management material.

Those white bits are hail stones - a first for the MdS.

By early afternoon the storm passed and the sun emerged, which raised the spirits in the camp no-end.  We set to getting all our kit out in the sun to dry.  In true boy scout style we rigged up a washing line for the purpose.  I also sacrificed a small amount of my water to rinse my race kit as it had started to prove uncomfortable in places on the long stage.  It was a surprisingly effective rinse and a good use of my water ration.

After the sand storm. The piece of carpet you can see was underneath my sleep mat.

Thanks to Paul, the extreme ironer, we borrowed his ironing board and iron to add to the wash day effect.  We were also treated to new race numbers today, and a cold can of Coke – mine didn’t last long, but was really welcomed.

Wash day in the desert.

The only downside later on in the day was the pain in my feet.  As the day had gone on, it had become apparent that we hadn’t really had any proper rest, and I was starting to feel it.  My feet by now were very swollen and covered in blisters and the sand rash. 

The mood in camp lifted when the sun came out.

Incredibly people were still coming in from the 50 mile stage at about 4pm, some 32 hours after setting off.  It was a struggle to hobble over to cheer them in, but I think they deserved it – that’s a long time out on a stage. 

Ah Chew from Malaysia, the last man home from the long day.

I struggled to get my dinner down, and despite the lovely evening and sunset, I was very worried about my feet.  Most people consider once the long day is over that the race is in the bag.  I wasn’t so sure that the marathon stage the following day would be such a breeze.  I was starting to get very envious of other people wandering around with seemingly no pain in their feet.  I went to email home and let off some steam in my allocated 1,000 characters.  Hardly constructive but I felt better afterwards.  The emails from home that were delivered to the tent later that evening made me a little emotional, or it could have been because I was so tired.  We also received the pub quiz questions from the Hammer and Pincers to bring some joviality to the tent.