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| You wouldn't expect to see this so close to the Sahara... |
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Culturally, socially, architecturally but most of all topographically, Morocco is an amazing place. Not being Alan Whicker, I can't say for sure that there aren't dozens of countries that boast a combination of snow-capped mountains and relentless desert that so distinguish this place - but I doubt it. And before I could ever sniff the Sahara there was the not so small matter of the Atlas Mountains for the Range Sport and I to negotiate. When I think of driving in Africa, it is not deep drifts of dirty snow and lethal expanses of sheet ice that I focus upon; but up in the Atlases, it's all there. So I chose the snow setting on the excellent and idiot-proof Terrain Response selector and set the Sport to work. And after about 30 minutes climbing, it dawned on me we that we hadn't seen a car, bus or truck going either up or down the mountain for some time. There were plenty at the side of the road, a few frozen in comedy opposite lock slides, where a spin had only been avoided by burying the car in the snow piled feet deep at the edges of the road. But none were actually moving. Yet the Sport felt assured, confident even in such conditions and never once gave the slightest cause for concern, even on the most treacherous surfaces. Its test had been completed.
So we pressed on for the desert, now back at something nearer ground level and the sun beating down hard enough to make me yearn for a convertible. And here, midway between the Atlas mountains and the Sahara, I discovered that this Range Rover actually deserves its Sport title. It's not shatteringly fast, though 0-60mph in 7.2sec hardly marks it out as a sluggard and the way it gathers its frankly porky 2572kg bulk and hustles it towards the horizon is memorable for its sheer majesty. Supercharger wailing, fuel level plummeting, it feels gloriously profligate. In fact you soon learn not to think too hard about the fuel consumption which, says Land Rover, should approach 18mpg in normal driving but, out here, showed no sign of wanting to better 13mpg. Then again that's a very easy thing for someone who's not dropping over fifty quid into its tank after every 250 miles of decent driving. Owners, rather than freeloading journalists, may find it rather more difficult to forgive.
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| Expanse of Sahara spans as far as the eye can see |
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But I just let it charge and found a car that rides surprisingly well given its outsize 20-inch wheels and feels utterly composed even on some of Morocco's worst roads, of which there are many. I remember one stretch in particular where the road was one car wide and looked like it had been surfaced by my three-year-old. But it stretched far into the distance, and while my passengers slept I indulged in a guilty pleasure: pretending to be Colin McRae on the Dakar Rally. Up and up the speed went until we were hurtling across North Africa at something better than 130mph. On that surface my passengers should not simply have been awake, they should have been screaming; but inside the Sport all was calm - in fact it was in its element.
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