Pere battles his way through hot, dry, sand-laden winds of 30 km/h. Although the organisers described yesterday’s stage as easy, they had not accounted for the wild, changeable desert winds, which turned the journée facile in a real nightmare.
People reach the finish with bleeding noses: fine sand builds up inside, and they have to clear it with their fingers to breathe. The sky stays cloudy without cooling down. Together with the wind, this dehydrates them so fast that missing a drink can make them collapse. Their tents are little more than fabric and four poles, open at the sides, so they always end up with mouths full of sand. I would be hysterical, but Pere describes it as casually as yesterday’s news from the neighbour upstairs. Some people are clearly made of sterner stuff. Already 12 runners have withdrawn, and many are limping or showing obvious exhaustion.
Pere, meanwhile, had a magnificent stage yesterday. He started among the first 100 and even kept pace for more than 30 seconds with Ahansal (race number 1), winner of previous editions: “The guy runs with short, quick steps and carries a tiny backpack, like a child’s school bag.” Then, while crossing hamadas (rocky desert areas), dunes and wadis (dry riverbeds), he ran alongside Moroccan champion Touda Didí. “A group of us men were running with her, but a few kilometres before the finish, she started sprinting and left us far behind.” That would have depressed me, but Pere said: “It's great that they can do things like that!” For a moment, I thought the heat had gone to his head, but our Tuareg colleagues assure me that is just how Pere is.
Today brings another route like yesterday’s: 38 km along rocky mountainsides, wadis And, of course, more sand. Cheer up, Pere!