I Drove The Amsterdam Dakar Challenge As A Woman

And so can you!

The Amsterdam Dakar Challenge, where the men distinguish themselves from the boys. Driving more than 7,000 kilometres through Europe, the Sahara and the villainous Mauritania where the Sharia rules and where bandits have all the power. Sure I wanted to participate in this challenge, and only for one thing: to prove that women can do anything (too).

Let me be clear, I didn't know how to change a tire, how to drive off-road or what’s going on underneath the bonnet. A few years ago I even suffered from fear of driving. But my stubbornness, determination and hunger for adventure, were the ideal personality ingredients for the Amsterdam Dakar Challenge. I bought an old Toyota bus, built a bed in it and put a metal base plate underneath the car. Why? To protect it against stones during the off-road routes. I also transformed the bus into one that matched my personality, a purple bus with rainbows and slogans like "girl power" and "girls can do anything". It was very well received in the Netherlands but I came to the conclusion it would be less popular in countries such as Morocco and Mauritania where they prefer women to be veiled than driving a car.

Together with my female crew and 25 other teams, mostly men, we left on a Saturday morning. I said goodbye to my family and friends and we headed to the south of Europe in our purple van named Sandy. While looking in my rearview mirror, I saw my mom crying. I started sobbing too. It was until then that I realised what I was about to do: driving as one of the few women to Banjul in The Gambia, via a route of the real Dakar Rally. And to make it even more crazy I was driving in a purple van with rainbows that more looked like the LGBTQ flag than the hippie van I had in mind.

The first 3 days through Europe were very tough with long days driving. The first day we stopped just past Paris, in Tours, where we arrived at 11pm. One of the cars already suffered a blowout on the busiest highways of Paris. Fortunately, our bus Sandy did well. Although Sandy was doing well, I had serious concerns. A lack of sleep and food, plus worried messages from friends asking if I really was going to do this, made me question if I could truly finish this challenge. Imagine being locked up in a car, your house for 3 weeks, with 2 other people. Driving through the most deserted place on earth. You can prepare everything so well, but sometimes you are also left to fate. Every day I did a little prayer to make it safe to the next destination.

We finally reached Algeciras in Spain where we took the ferry to Morocco at 6 in the morning. We had another tough day ahead of us with a border crossing from Spain to Morocco. In Europe we had no problems at all with our girl power van, but I started to worry a bit now. Especially when I read that two women were murdered in the Atlas Mountains in the past, a part that we would also cross. Somewhat stressed we drove to the men of the customs. What happened next was something I never expected. We were welcomed with open arms, the man from the customs even said he liked strong and independent women. We got a new stamp in our passport and we were allowed to continue our journey, on to Morocco!

The routes through Morocco were breathtaking and very varied. With rough parts in the Atlas Mountains where they don’t do guardrails. When you drive a bit too reckless you get a one way ticket into the ravine. But what touched me the most was that all the people in Morocco were so friendly, sharing everything with us. It was the first and last time I tried camel meat. Above all, everyone was super positive about our purple Sandy van.

As we drove further south, the landscape became drier but especially much sandier. We navigated to Merzouga, an oasis in the desert of Morocco. With nightfall, our navigation became more difficult. We were sent onto a sandy track, something we never drove before. We forgot to empty our tires a bit for extra grip, so we got stuck the moment we took the dirt road. We tried to hit the gas a bit more, resulting in Sandy getting even more stuck. Three women alone at night in the Sahara desert, the perfect beginning of a horror movie…

Suddenly, out of nowhere, veiled men appeared. For a moment I thought they wanted to rob us or even worse, that my life was over by one stupid mistake. Instead of breaking into our car, the men started digging out our car. With hesitation I opened my window and started to speak in my best French, which is so good I can ask for a croissant and jus d’orange. I understood that they wanted to help us and as soon as Sandy was free from the sand, they navigated us the right way to our hotel. A paradise with palm trees rose up from the sand, accompanied by the light of the full moon. A magical moment. And as quick the veiled men appeared, they also disappeared into the dark, not even wanting money for their rescue operation.

Fortunately, the next day we had a rest day in Merzouga. While all the men were testing their 4x4 cars in the desert, we discovered the dunes by camel. The dunes in Merzouga are called ‘’dunes d’or’’, golden dunes, and to be honest, I had never seen that fine and coloured sand in my life. With a breathtaking sundowner, this was one of the best experiences of my life. However this resting day was much needed, we were participating in a challenge so the next day it was time to get into our Sandy to hit the road again. 

Modern Laayoune

The more we drove south, the drier it got. We were on our way to Laayoune, the capital of the Western Sahara, and luckily we were driving on a paved road again. But you really don't want to get unlucky here. There were no villages or petrol stations along the way. Therefore it was necessary to stock up on food, water and diesel fuel. When we arrived in Laayoune, I expected a bandite city where we would be stoned for our girl power van. But when we took a good look around us, we didn't see veiled women but rather many empowered women in jeans. They literally ran towards our bus and wanted to take pictures. Men also started a chat with us and found it very interesting what we did. Laayoune, also known as ‘’The Source’’ was a very modern city where we immediately felt at home. After camping in Morocco for a few days, it was nice to sleep in a comfortable bed again and finally wash our hair in a hot shower.

Camping in the Sahara

That euphoric feeling evaporated quickly in the heat of the Sahara when we realised that the next day the toughest part of the challenge started, 4 days of driving through the desert in Mauritania. This country was not considered the safest, in fact, the travel advice is coloured red, which means the government won’t help if you go there because it’s too dangerous. There were mines along the border with the Western Sahara and also a high risk of kidnapping.In groups of 5 cars and accompanied by a guide, we started the journey through Mauritania. The Sahara covers 90% of Mauritania and unlike the route to Laayoune, the roads here were absolutely not paved. In fact, we drove straight through the desert where we only saw sand. Our guide led us through this maze of sand, cactuses and camel corps. Through our experience in Morocco we became professionals in off-road driving and as true Rally drivers, we let the tires of our car run empty for extra grip on the sand.

We crossed the desert at 120 kilometres per hour, leaving the other cars of our team behind. The men were amazed by our Sandy that she went so fast through the sand. We imagined ourselves in a Mad Max movie where I felt like Imperator Furiosa. Sleeping in the desert was an unforgettable experience, we made a campfire from the wood we found from a dry, dead tree. Some lunatik of a guy threw the corpse of a camel on the fire, a smell so disgusting I was afraid it would stay in my memory forever. There was no shower or toilet, super back to basics but it was one of the best experiences of my life. Some cars got stranded in the desert and had to be towed but our van was still going strong. Sandy was therefore renamed by the men as Desert Demon, a well-deserved name.

The finish line in Banjul, Gambia

After Mauritania we realised we had only 1.000 km driving left and that the adventure almost came to an end. Almost… since we had another very bold ride ahead of us. A part of the real Dakar Rally, on to the eponymous city of Dakar. I was a bit afraid since many crazy accidents happened during the real Dakar Rally. But as soon as we were driving off road, on the beach, the Mad Max feeling came back. Sandy transformed into the Desert Demon again and our purple van left many 4x4’s behind. Dakar is just as exotic as it sounds. It’s a bustling city with a New York kind of energy. People are living at a fast pace and driving here is a whole new experience. Imagine cows on the highway and we had to dodge other drivers that were watching their phones instead of the road. Driving in this city was even worse than the rally part on the beach.

After another resting day where we visited Goree, the formal slavery island, it was time for our last driving day to Banjul in Gambia. Including another tiring border crossing where we even got interviewed by the real Senegalese television. Our purple van was such an eyecatcher! Since the border crossing almost took 6 hours, we had to find our way to the capital city of Gambia in the dark. It was the most horrible day driving ever. Driving in the dark in Gambia was a whole new thing since there were no street lights, the road had potholes and there were people and cows walking on the road. No problem by daylight but in the dark it felt like playing Mario kart in real life. I was never that relieved when we finally made it to our hotel in Banjul at 12 in the evening.

The days after the finish in Banjul were a rollercoaster of emotions. Cleaning our Desert Demon and making her ready for the auction, but also realising our journey came to an end. The last 6 months we were busy preparing ourselves for this adventure, also mentally. It was such a tough trip that everyone got sick afterwards when we finally had time to rest. At the auction we sold Sandy for almost €4.500 and all the money went to ‘’Girls can do Anything’’, a project for girls education in Gambia. Visiting the school and seeing all the girls we did this for, made me emotional. It made me realise that men and women are still not equal and that there is a lot of work left to do in the whole world. Maybe education is normal for us in Western society but here in Africa it’s not. Let’s help other women to find their voice too.

Girls can do anything.