Having reached Dakhla, Jake Thorpe is on the second leg of his two-wheeled journey from London to Cape Town.

Since the age of four, my summers have been demarcated by chunks of time spent on a remote Welsh island. Ynys Enlli is a stone's throw from the tip of North Wales' Llŷn Peninsula, separated from the mainland by 3km of tempestuous sea. There's little electricity, no running water, no shops and just a handful of houses. Saturdays are changeover days: that week's occupants steel themselves to be thrust back into the bustle of mainland life, and a fresh batch of wide-eyed visitors, still soaked from the spray of the crossing, step into the serenity of island life.

With Enlli, there's no such thing as packing light. You have to bring everything you need to sustain yourself. On changeover days, an old Massey Ferguson - the crimson of its youth washed out by decades of salt and sun - paces metronomically up and down the island's sole rocky track, hauling the arriving and departing luggage with the patience of a trusty mule. Chains are formed and boxes stacked with the habitual speed and precision of a veteran bricklayer.

As an energetic youth who loved a project, Saturdays were always eagerly anticipated. Luckily, these skills - carefully honed over the years...