(Daniel) This morning, the urge to get in contact with Jerry, the contact who I had been given from Abba Shipping was too much to bear.  Nick and I drove into town to use a payphone, which we found next to a gas station.  Considering that the country is so rich and advanced, the phone system in the States in painfully poor.  Operators who cannot help you come on the line, when you have actually dialed the number which works the third time around.  I managed to get through to Jerry eventually.  Who told me in a panic that I had not provided him with any customs paperwork for the truck, and did I know that it would have to be compliant to an endless list of safety and emissions standards?  I looked to Nick, who confirmed that he had researched the rules, and as tourists from a country which had signed the 1949 road traffic act.  We would be allowed to drive in the country without being subject to any of those standards for a period of up to one year.

I repeated this to Jerry, who seemed oblivious to our revelations, telling me that he was not a customs broker, but that he had a number for one, and I should use it.  I chose to ignore his suggestion, but not without a pang of fear.  Only too well do I remember the feeling of helplessness as the authorities turned me away at the Vietnamese border, throwing chaos into my plans and setting everyone back by at least three weeks. 

Nick and I stopped at the beatnik on the way back to the house where we sat down for a light meal and collected an email from Tamsin saying that Rowan and Gabby would arrive at Midday.  So much for going to collect them!  Back at the house the others and I planned the rest of the week.  We would return to LA tomorrow to meet Rowan and Gabby.  Then after a couple of days with them, the Wolf will arrive requiring visits to the dock and the customs office.  Finally things were starting to move!

As the sun began to sit lower in the sky, the temperature dropped slightly, allowing us to venture out to the car.  We headed to the national park, past a gate post that was unmanned. Inside the park, the Joshua trees took on a beautiful vibrance, like a crowd of strange creatures standing around in odd poses waiting for some music to start.  The rocks were like Viennese ice cream, pink white and grey brown.  Lying in scoops and piles. 

We stopped at a large stack of rocks, which had been marked as a climbing site.  After locking the car, the four of us walked into the desert to explore the sandy stone pile about 100feet high.  I managed to persuade the others to climb to the top with me, as we watched the sunset over the hills in the distance.

Afterwards we climbed back down, and returned to the Bungalow to prepare for tomorrows return to Los Angeles. 

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