London to Cape Town – January 11th, 1963
There’s no passport stamp for January 11th. Even on their first full driving day – blasting down through Europe – they had encountered a serious delay. Then there had been an accident in Northern Africa and they were further delayed – and pretty terrified in the truth be known – by a bunch of armed men who had insisted that our intrepid duo were spies. More gun action had happened the following day when they were escorted at gunpoint into a room that held six dead bodies.
Now they were facing another gun, this time wielded by an official who was causing them a serious problem. As Eric’s says in Petrol in My Blood:
The official was adamant – and armed of course – which lent weight to his argument. I thought of getting back in the car and making a run for it. Ken and I exchanged glances. I could see that he was thinking the same thing. After all, we didn’t need another change in our schedule. But I was certain that if we’d tried to get through, he would have used his gun to blow out our tyres. So now what were we going to do?