We left the comfort of our camp at Engaresso after a breakfast of fried bread and the last remaining egg. With the water tank refilled, oil and water checked and the bar bill settled we headed out on the road north.

The drive was incredible and PR3 ate up the miles of loose rock and steep slopes of endless wilderness. We gained height and headed into the foothills of the escarpment, not sure if we were even on the right track but after a brief conversation with some locals we pushed on, eventually rolling into Wasso after 5 hours on the road.

Having secured accommodation we pushed on to the main town at Loliondo which was a major disappointment. The atm didn't work, none of the fruit and veg was worth buying and if we had eaten lunch anywhere we would almost certainly have seen it again.

We returned to Wasso having filled up with fuel and pulled into our bunkhouse where most of the locals seemed to be congregating. We had a very authentic lunch of rice and vegetables, and after trying one of their samosas I noticed the large wet patch under PR3. We had a fuel leak, but fortunately it seemed to be fixed by fiddling some taps.

The afternoon's entertainment was restocking Princess with food and that proved more difficult than expected. After 45 minutes of traipsing round the derelict stalls of Wasso we had managed to obtain only 50% of the items we required. Sadly Charlie was in such a bartering mode that he walked away from a deal for 10 eggs which would prove to be very costly.

We returned and settled into our rooms. Hattie slept, Bob read and Charlie and I played Emilie's heart attack game until we ventured out for a little supper.

After being accosted by the only other white people, who had been here for a month and not seen any other Caucasian faces, we wished them well with their charity work and finished our chicken, chips and rice. The bill was three times what lunch had been but we smiled as we emptied the kitty and headed back for an early night.