The joy of sand
Our final challenge involved crossing the Chilean Atacama desert. Sand Devils (mini tornadoes) danced across the land and away into the distance – and the sand particles lashed against exposed legs, arms and face acting like little pin pricking needles. The paint on our vehicles was worn down to bare metal and dust got inside even with the air conditioning on and the windows sealed. Sudden gusts of wind picked up handfuls of sand and regularly covered the laptop, blanketing the screen and keyboard in grit that buried itself under the keys. But it carried on regardless each time after a quick dust down.