Quad biking in the sand dunes

Image by Iain Purdie via Flickr

Dad and me

Today was Little Miss’s turn to come down with sunburn and she didn’t react as well to it as her brother, likely as she’s old enough to contextualise it and panic about it. We had quad biking booked for the afternoon which she was really looking forward to – probably more than anything else in the week – but sadly she missed out. We’ll make it up to her when we get home.

The trip was OK, but we didn’t get to go very fast. Some wonderful scenery, and a few stops for refreshments (not included – take water!) and they seemed to be refusing to let us on the quads unless we had a headscarf. Obviously, this meant buying one from them… It wasn’t a bad trip, but not brilliant. We stopped a few times for photos, to try and create an echo at “echo canyon” and so on. The scenery was lovely and the sunset was gorgeous. Overall, we were out for around 3 hours, I reckon. Some more freedom (they were very strict on us going single file) and a bit more speed would have made it that bit better.

Definitely, as I said, take your own water if you do this trip. If you have some kind of headscarf then bring it, although in honesty I never felt like I needed mine once we were underway. Sunglasses are recommended, but if you have some other type of eye protection then I’d consider it as sunglasses and post-sunset deserts don’t make for very good visibility. Do note that the bikes aren’t meant to be ridden by under-16’s but I can see those rules being flouted a bit. The accelerator is a very stiff thumb-activated one and my hand was cramped to hell by the time we reached each stop, so again perhaps not ideal for younger riders.

Image by Iain Purdie via Flickr

Quad-biking trip

Also, try not to get in the same group as a Russian dick who’s trying to show off to his partner and keeps stealing other people’s quads as his isn’t fast enough. And who then demands one of the staff’s faster bikes, proving as a result that he would be better off on a limited one as he can’t bloody control a proper bike. Prat.

The bus ride back was somewhat spoiled by a group of Fat Slags (seriously – real life versions of the Viz characters, right down to the boob tubes and screechy accent) “singing” a shitty Egyptian dance track. Over and over. At ear-splitting volume while joking that everyone else on the bus thought they were nuts. No, we thought they were bloody selfish idiots and should shut the hell up.

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