5:30 AM, Saturday, March 29. The sun will rise in just under an hour, but a certain excitement is already spreading through the Merzouga 1000 Classic rally (مرزوقة 1000). The crews wake up, prepare, and have breakfast before heading out at 6:30 AM toward the first special stage.
The start is located about ten kilometers from Foum Zguid. With a slight delay due to the late arrival of the helicopter, the first car takes off. Grégory Florin and his co-driver Christophe Bouvet, in a Fast & Speed buggy #202, will open the race.
On the agenda: 352 km to cover. Heading south toward Lake Iriki on a very smooth track. Caution was required, as in the absence of wind, the dust kicked up by the buggies and 4x4s lingered above the track, making it difficult to see in the first few kilometers. Along the edge of the lake, the course shifts eastward before looping back slightly further south. Once again, the terrain was smooth with few hazards or ruts. After last year’s floods, conditions are returning to normal.
For added enjoyment, the crews crossed some small dunes that the drivers appreciated. The tracks became sandier along the Erg. Some vehicles even got stuck in the sand.
Everyone then headed north again to return and cross the asphalt road connecting Foum Zguid to Tissint. Upon resuming the route, there was some off-road navigation and a lot of vegetation. Here, navigation was done by heading direction before reaching the finish line. A beautiful, varied, and smooth stage of over 300 km—a great way to get warmed up.
Grégoire De Mévius – Range Halt’Up
I am Belgian. I started rallying in 1984 and continued until 1998. In 1999, I did my first Dakar. In total, I participated in seven, won four stages, and my best result was 8th place. I stopped competing in the Dakar in 2005 due to a spinal injury.
I thought I would never race again, but in 2009, some friends suggested I try historic rallies. I participated in the Morocco Historic Rally ten times and the East African Safari Classic three times. Meanwhile, I started collecting rally cars. By chance, I discovered that there was a beautiful Range Rover Halt’Up just 15 km from my home. I found the daughter of the former owner, Mr. Piron, Virginie, who showed it to me and agreed to sell it, despite high interest from others. One condition was that I restore it to its original condition. She continues to follow my journey with this Range Rover and even attended the test runs.
Initially, the first historic rally I wanted to do was with Yves Loubet, but the event was never organized. I was looking for a race to enter with my finished car, one lasting no more than five or six days. The Merzouga 1000 Classic was the perfect fit. This year, everything fell into place. We had time to test the car in Belgium, and we decided we were ready.
I prefer a relaxed approach to racing. I no longer want stress; I prefer to discover things as I go. My co-driver is in his first rally raid, so he needs time to understand how it all works. He had done some Baja events, but those don’t involve navigation. We got lost a bit and missed two waypoints, which cost us penalties, but by the end, we understood better how to validate them without being distracted by the dust from the car ahead. Tomorrow, we will be better at it. Otherwise, our pace was decent. I know I can’t go much faster with this 1988 vehicle—it’s much older than most buggies. To me, a successful stage is one where we never have to get out of the car. That means no punctures and no technical issues. We only had a minor brake problem at the rear over the last 50 km.
Honestly, I was surprised by this first special stage. Spending four hours and twenty minutes in the car was tougher than expected. For a first stage, I might have made it a little easier to help beginners ease in. But for me, even though it had been a long time since my last rally raid, it went well. I’m a bit rusty, too. The variety was fantastic—smooth sections, rough patches, some off-road, soft sand—truly magnificent. The speed zones are great; we have to slow down in villages and at checkpoints, which is excellent. Back in the day, we didn’t have that. The atmosphere is fantastic. I’ve met so many new people. Aside from Philippe Rey and Graziano, I don’t know anyone from my Dakar days, but I’m making great connections. In historic rallying, there is a real spirit of mutual support, whether for mechanics or just lending a hand. I’m sure many helped each other out on the track today.
Marine Athimon – Range Rover Classic V8
I work with Jeremy Athimon, who is my husband (Nantes Prestige Autos, the company that built the two Porsches here). I handle accounting, customer service, and all the paperwork he doesn’t want to do. For six years, I’ve watched him evolve and progress in rally raid. Julien (the driver of the Range) was the driver of the Martini Porsche in the 2023 Dakar. Since then, he has become a friend. Over dinner one evening, he jokingly asked me to be his co-driver. He convinced me because it was a Land Rover, even though I had never been a co-driver or done any rallying. I love Land Rovers (I’ve had three, and they all ended up with broken engines, but I still love them—forever Land Rover!) and England in general. So I agreed: “If it’s a Land, OK.” Two weeks later, he called back and said, “I bought the race Land Rover, we’re going!”
That’s when I realized it was serious. Jérémy got me a racing suit, shoes, and a helmet. We waited for the car to be serviced, then had it in the garage for a final check.
I enjoyed putting on the helmet at the start. It felt like entering my own bubble—no more outside noise, just focus. But when we reached the start line, I turned pale. I was shaking, nervous, unsure of what I was getting into. As we took off, I was holding my breath, my mind blank. By kilometer two, we got a flat tire—no time to breathe. The jack broke, and I thought, “This is it, I’ve only made it two kilometers.” With my small arms, changing a rally raid tire was tough. I loosened the bolts, and Julien helped me. We got going again, and my stress evaporated—I was fully in.
Later, we got stuck in the sand. We thought it was the rear, so I started digging, but it was actually the front. The Range was nearly buried up to the bumper, and we were digging in the wrong place. Eventually, we got out, and we worked well together—no arguments, no raised voices. We had fun. I missed calling out two hazard zones, so we got shaken up a bit, and I apologized. I loved the dunes—the adrenaline rush and the feeling of emptiness as we crested them. I can’t wait to tackle bigger ones. Julien drives incredibly well. Not once did I feel scared or unsafe.
When we reached the last page of the roadbook, I couldn’t believe it. “We did it!” I never thought I could.
The Merzouga staff and organizers are so kind. At the start, a woman even held my hand when I was shaking. The whole team is welcoming, reassuring, and human.
Among the competitors, I haven’t yet felt the usual backstabbing that sometimes happens. Everyone is friendly. I love being part of the NPA team—with the mechanics, my husband. Before, I lived his rally experiences through his stories when he returned from races. Now, I’m experiencing it alongside him. At one point, I saw his Porsche stopped and got scared something had happened to him. But as we got closer, I saw him standing on top of it. That was a relief.
