Still waiting on Mentor to get me on a boat. I’m sitting here in the pile of concrete, dust and junk that is Dakar, twiddling my thumbs. Maybe tonight I’ll go out and get drunk (actually, it’ll probably be eight quid a beer, so maybe not). Maybe I’ll still be here next week, who knows? All I know is that I’ve just bled hundreds of pounds all over the floor and I haven’t a clue how I’m going to pay for the rest of this bloody journey.