Ulaan Baatar

There had been a few tears the night before when we thought I was leaving, so, with a mighty hangover, I left and got through the border.

On the Mongolian side, I waited for our rep.

She turned up and got me a lift with 2 ladies in a Mitsubishi 4x4. A fitting end. At least I was going to make the whole trip overland, even it meant finishing it in someone else's car. The drive itself took us through the Mongolian countryside. We stopped to pick up other hitchers and to try Yaks milk - never again.

For some reason they took a liking to my belly and patted it most of the way.

After 5 hours, we entered the grimness that is Ulaan Bataar. The outskirts are an industrial nightmare. The place stinks of pollution and I reckon I smoked a full pack in 6 miles. Generously, my hosts dropped me off at the finish line - outside the State Department Store. I celebrated my arrival with a cold beer and was taken to the office to be awarded with my certificate for completing the rally.

I was tired, I needed to look for a hotel - this time, I decided to treat myself.

I am now in residence at the Hotel Ulaan Baatar 'Mongolia's only 5 star hotel' (Did they award them to themselves I wonder?).

Apart from mucky carpets and the view over the government buildings that were burnt out a few weeks ago - its not so bad.

So I'm here.

I went to Dave's Bar on the grand square and managed 2 beers before my eyes started to close. It was raining hard.

I got back to the hotel unscathed. Somehow I got undressed and into bed.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

LOGNOM

Another grim breakfast sidelined at our hotel and it was time for some housekeeping.

Alex and I went separate ways to look at the delights of Ulan Ude - probably the shortest book in the world if it were ever written. I checked updates from the rally - bad news, still no cars allowed in at the Altan Bulag border. We waited until 2pm when the office in Mongolia opened and I called Tom. No change, we would have to leave the car at the border and get a taxi the last 350km.

I got into the car and told Alex....

He responded:

'Listen, I'm being serious here, lets just drive it back'

'Errrrrr.........'

'Nick, we could be in Moscow by Thursday, you could fly back from anywhere before then.'

'Alex, I came here to get to Mongolia.'

'Do you mind if I take the car? Oh, and you'll have to lend me $500.'

'No problem, I think you're mad, but I love the idea'

And so it was decided, Alex would embark on the Lognom rally (Work it out yourselves).

We agreed to drive to the border and left immediately. I was chuckling the whole way. We had agreed that I should drive the last 220km to the Mongol border.

We arrived at 6.20pm. Horror, it was closed until 9am.

So we went to the restaurant next to the border and started to drink beer with 'Baikal' Vodka chasers. By 12am, we were dancing and careening around the car having a last listen to Pink Floyd - the locals were amused.

We spread a tarpaulin out next to the car and put sleeping bags out.

I was 'merry'.

R & R

We took a leisurely drive along the South side of lake Baikal only stopping to try a local delicacy - Onul fish, smoked. Yum!
The fish was being sold by 3 rather odd people: 2 very drunk men and their mother (who had a full beard and refused to be photographed). They were very proud of their wares and started dancing around drunkenly holding up handfuls of smoked fish.

Next, we bumped into two dutch registered Mercedes mini-buses. One was being towed by another. They were were the property of a bunch of Dutch farmenrs and their sons. One of the buses was being towed by the other and had been for the last 700 miles. They were hoping to take them both to Mongolia and sell them. We didn't have the heart to tell them that the border was closed to foreign vehicles......

We arrived in Ulan Ude at about 4pm.

We met the head of the Mongolian motorsport federation who tried to get us a room at the Mongolian Embassy - it was a purple and white monstrosity in the middle of town. We were refused.

So to another ex-soviet hotel but a chance to do laundry and get clean.

We went to the local 'mall' and had a few beers before heading out for a night on the town. We met one of the local 'players' who was, to put it mildly, full of sh*t.

He promised us a good night out - Alex accepted but I couldn't bear to be around the drunken obnoxious idiot.

The next morning I heard that Alex had only lasted another hour before realising that the guy was all talk and no action.

The long haul

We headed from our overnight stop towards Krasnoyarsk. The car was pretty bad and we just had to grin and bear the noise.

Alex and I needed cash so we went into Krasnoyarsk. A really user-friendly place.

Now I realise that my colleagues and my family are probably reading this so all I can say at this point is that Russia is full of beautiful women. Krasnoyarsk is the dead centre of Russia and they are in abundance here.

When we had managed to pick our jaws up from the floor, we tried to get out. It was rush hour by this time.

We pulled up next to a Toyota and and asked "Irkutsk?' (Another 1500 km to the East). The woman in the car laughed. Then I think pity took over. They lead us to the motorway - it must have been and hour and a half. We were very grateful. They warned us about the road east of Kansk - this was the second warning about this on the same day. We were advised not to attempt the road at night.

As we headed east, we started to notice large covoys of cars heading the other way. All were taped and protected against damage. At first we thought they were being test driven - we were later to find out that they had driven from Vladivostock and were all 2nd hand Japanese imports.

We tried to find either a place to sleep or a hotel - no luck and we had got to Kansk.

We decided that there was only one thing for it - to press on.

We should have heeded the warning. The road was a nightmare. The first 27 kilometers took about 2 hours. It was scene resembling no-mans land in Ypres. Amazing.

Then the road got better, then worse etc etc.

I slept while Alex made steady progress, at dawn I took over. By this time the brakes were starting to be a real concern - we had been using a combination of hills, handbrake and gears to stop us up to now, but this was not reliable any more.

We carried on and racked up 1300 kilometers before stopping at a garage outside Irkutsk.

We looked at the brake assembly expecting carnage - it was nothing of the sort - we had lost a brake pad.

After a fruitless search for the real parts, the mechanic decided to modify a brake which closely resembled ours.

When he came back from the workshop - it popped into place like it was made for the car. Rejoice!!!!! No more grinding noises.

We were charged 300 roubles but paid 500.

We drove on through Irkutsk and stopped on a hullside to the South. The place looked like a hunting lodge but had spectacular views over Irkutsk. After eating, we pressed on for Lake Baikal.

We carried on over the hills until we finally saw Lake Baikal. It was getting dark and we had to drive to the Southern shore to look for a place to camp. We drove down a series of unlit tracks which ended in wierd places with the locals eating picnics in the pitch dark drinking Vodka. We even came across a wharehouse party in the iddle of nowhere.

After driving around looking for a place to camp (and meeting some weird and wonderful people) we slept in the open on a shingle beach next to the lake.

I went out like a light.

East is East

We woke in the suburbs and headed into town to re-unite team Allegro and to eat.

We all met up and headed for a cafe. From here, Allegro and Hyding to Nothing would convoy to the Mongolian (Western border), Alex and I were to head to Novosibirsk and beyond.

After eating we all went our separate ways.

Alex and I made progress and were through Novosibirsk late afternoon.

We headed on to Kemorovo where, at some point, the car started to emit a terrible grinding noise - the front brakes has finally gone. The noise was terrible. We stopped in Kemorovo and tried to find a Nissan dealer - it was too late. Hotels were exhorbitant so we drove on until we came across a rather isolated motel.

A large Russian lady greeted us and were were shown to our rooms (300 roubles). We passed stuffed bears and shabby sofas on the way to our rooms.

To my shock, we were both sharing rooms with other people. I went to bed clutching my 'man bag'. I heard my fellow occupant come in and ignored him. I soon heard him snoring - I relaxed enough to drop off.

Taxistan

Breakfast in the Semey Hotel was quite a surprise - enough of one to leave me in shocked awe and unable to face it.

It was 2 eggs perched on top of 2 slices of gristly spam - not what you want to start your day.

I walked to find an internet cafe - too early, but I got to walk through a rather shabby park which had an eternal flame.

Later, and back to the cafe which was opposite a local hang-out called 'Istanbul Picnic'. At least 5 other rally teams were in town and we had quite a meeting. We decided that we would go to the Russian border with Ed and Ben of team Hyding to Nothing'. We also met Vicky, Pat and (?) in an Austin Allegro. They were waiting for the evening as their visas did not start until the next day.

We passed a lazy afternoon and at about 4pm, Low Beam and Hyding to Nothing headed for Russia.

A short drive later and we got to the Kazak side of the border. There was a queue of cars including 2 Spanish teams.

We went through the Kazak side and were met with quite a sight. The taxi team were in 'no mans land' and had set up their own country 'Taxistan'. There was a desk made from a pile of bricks and a car bonnet. They had their tent set up. The reason being that their visas were still 4 days from starting - they were stuck. What was worse - the older man with them - Jimmy was really sick (Heat exhaustion and deydration). Also, we found the Allegro team had decided to leave Semey and had beaten us to the border!!!!?????

After some humming and Ha-ing, Vicky joined Hyding to nothing (Ed and Ben were 'chuffed to bits') so that her team would take sick Ed to Barnaul in the morning as his visa was valid. The 2 lads would have to sit it out in Taxistan until there visas became valid.

We drove into the night on fairly decent roads stopping for Shashlick and, some free Vodka courtesy of Alex's geniality.

At 4am we camped in the suburbs of Barnaul.

Priyama!

Up and in to the cafe. (after fixing our first puncture - well, Alex fixed it - I am relegated to curious bystander - this was a fairly noteworthy part of the trip as it was our first 'breakdown'. Not bad for 6700 miles.)

Here's the problem, menus in English disappeared along time ago.

So what does your average Kazak have for breakfast?

Who knows, but we got beef and onion soup!

We drove East and connected with the main road to Georgievsky and, hopefully, on to Semey (Semipalatinsk). What follwed were 13 hours of mind-numbing, pot hole dodging, crater-traversing boredom. I guess I haven't mentioned it too much but there is a lot of driving involved. At this point we have come 6700 miles and theres still another 1500-2000 to go.

Occasionally we have to ask directions as the road splits with no signposts. Thankfully, the most common reply is "Priyama' (Straight ahead).

The first part of the final leg was really appaling. As one rallier said, it looked like the road had been bombed. We nearly lost the car in a pot-hole.

We arrived in Semey at 10.30pm. Absolutely exhausted.

We found Hotel Semey, another soviet-relic which had been refurbished to look like a bad 80's retirement community.

Too tired to finish my 2nd beer - I headed for bed.

Shashlicked

Woke up early suffering from the night before's shashlik - never again (Well at least until Russia where I hear its all they eat)

We cleared out the car and made a late start North. An uneventful drive as far as Taldy Korgan where we stopped for a beer and to consider our next move.

We had noticed a minor road to the North up to a lake. We decided that a late swim and sleeping under the starts would be the order of the day.

We drove 120km up a minor road and came to Lepsi.

We were greeted by a sign that showed the delights of Jet Skiing, saling, swimming etc, all looked good.

We drove into the village and were greeted by a group of small children who screamed with delight when we waved back at them. - Dead end. We drove back and on the way, Alex tipped half a box of lollipos out, the kids went mad but were polite to give us a 'Spaceba'.

We started to ask directions to the beach - then came the bad the news, the lake had receded so badly that the beach was now 40km away. Really sad - another Aral Sea in the making.

We found a nice spot by a river just outside the village.

Almost as soon as we arrived, a large 4x4 went past and seemed to be checking us out.

We cooked and Alex went to the levee to watch the sun set.

I got into my sleeping bag.

It was dark and th 4x4 re-appeared. They gestured that they were looking for cows but seemed a little interested in us.

Alex had seen it all from the levee.

Enough was enough, in spite of being 2 grown men who aren't usually phased by this sort of thing, we didn't feel entirely safe. We packed up and got back onto the road.

We decided to take another minor road which re-connected with the main road. Big mistake.

We drove 117km at 30km/hour over giant potholes. At times it seemed that the plants were taking over. It was a little unnerving but eventually we made it to the main road.

We found a small cafe and slept next to it.

Ger or Yurt?

Up with the dawn.

At this point, I realise the the vegetation that we've been sleeping in is rather similar to the sort that I tried to grow on the spare bedroom window when I was 17. (A dark period in jy life for which I still owe my long-suffering parents the most enormous apology!)

On closer inspection, we realise that its probably just hemp. Either way, we're not interested.

The drive then takes us up into the mountains even further. We pass the most stunning scenery I have ever seen (Apart from Kashmir). We are in a series of very steep-sided valleys and climb up to over 3000m. Then we reach a pass after driving through a tunnel carved out of the top of a mountain. From there we are looking over a plateau, the weather is cooler. In the distance, glacier-topped mountains.

We start to pass villages of tents (Gers or Yurts?). Local people are herding horses. Smoke rises out of small chimneys and the scene is rather surreal.

After a while, we start to climb even higher on swithcbacks until we reach a pass over 3300m. A tunnel takes us through the top of the mountain and then to even steeper higher valleys as we go back down. 2 Hours after we reached the top of the pass - we are back on the hot plains.

We drive into Bishkek to get some money and a sarnie.

We fill up and fill one jerry can. Then to the Kazak border.

The border crossing (forecast as one of the most complex) took all of 20 minutes.

The road to Almaty was really good but there was a sudden noticeable difference in cars/driving. They drive 4x4s - nice ones. Mercs, Lexus, Audi, VW. They drive like lunatics.

We got to Almaty and got completely lost. We sought refuge in a roadside bar and had a couple of beers and shashlik (Kebabs to you and me).

Again, we got completely lost but after getting some direction, we bump into the teams from Kazak again (One has 2 large plastic horses and 2 cats on the roof rack) They are parked outside the hotel we wanted to find 4 hours ago.

Check in and bed

Lakes

After a late set-off, we head for the road to Bishkek.

Almost immediately we bump into 2 teams. One of the teams has rather an unusual 'display' on its roof rack. There are 2 plastic horses, each 18 inches tall, one black, one white on the front. On the back, 2 plastic cats appear to be climbing up the roofrack........

It takes all sorts.

The roads are perfect and after an hour or so, we are taken into a steep sided valley. I realise that I use words like 'spectacular' often but, the place is spectacular.

There a series of 7 dams supplying water and power to the region but, best of all - swimming!

We stop at a private 'beach'. The water is cool, clear and incredibly welcoming. We swim for an hour and feel absolutely refreshed. I distribute lollipops to the gathered masses and we drive on.

An hour or so later, we cross a high pass and are greeted with the sight of an enormous reservoir and a beautiful sunset.

Alex has done his research and after a while we come across a local roadside cafe that serves fresh trout.

The place is run by 'muvver' and her 4 girls who work their fingers to the bone and a son who does nothing.

But, we eat the best and simplest meal of the trip. Fried seasoned trout, onions, plain bread and tea. Unfortunately, I find it really difficult to to the 'cross-legged thing' at the table. (Why cant they just have a good old fashioned table and chairs?) It doesn't spoil the meal.

After supper, we head to the lakeside to see the young lads herding cattle. It is paradise. The sun is setting and the mountains are reflected perfectly in the lake's surface. Apart from the odd cow pat, there is plenty of softish sand to set a sleeping bag on. There's also a lot of scrubby vegetation.

We sleep rough by the car/lakeshore.

Osh by gosh

Up at 5am and straight out of the Hotel to head North to Tashkent.
Police everywhere. We get stopped once but waved past most of the time. The journey is fairly uneventful apart from atrocious roads so progress is slow.

There was never any intention to stay in Tashkent so, after getting completely lost on the motorway system, a friendly local shows us the way to motorway due East. Again, more bad roads but by 5pm, we get to (to be entered) and are nearly out of petrol. We have very little Som left and need to get supplies.

We pull up at a hotel and one of the staff take me to nearby corner to exchange on the Black Market.

I am approached by a gut with a carrier bag full of pre-sorted 500 Som notes.  No-one bats an eyelid.

Back to the hotel where we meet an American Harvard graduate studying the area and its languages - very help ful.

We drive around looking for petrol but there is none.

Alex is willing to risk the 45km to the Kyrgyz border - I am not.

I arrange some black market petrol which is delivered at astronimical price and we head for the border.

At the border its the usual welcome. It is a bit more troublesome leaving Uzbekistan but we get a friendly welcome from the Kyrgystan side - as well as a smattering of Kalashnikovs - standard border fare in this part of the world.

After parting with 50 or so lollipops, we head to Osh.

We drive around for an hour nefore finding a hotel - and what a hotel.

The bathroom is a tribute to soviet engineering. External pipes (way out of any proportion to what they perform)  It is filthy with cracked and loose tiles everywhere.

We drink beer and talk to locals until 3am.

Chillin'

Internet access is not problem, there's just not that much happening.

Taking some time off in Samarqand before we really start things moving.

Up at 4am tomorrow for the drive to the Kyrgystan border.

Things will get thin after that as we cover the large distances in Kazakhstan.

Will post as soon as I can.

IMPORTANT NOTE

I am aware of typos and things not necessarily being in as much detail as I would like.

This is because I cannot get net access all the time and spellchecker tends to cause 'accidents'.

All will be sorted on my return

The road to Samarqand........

........ is full of pot-holes

The romantic notion of a road to Samarqand was shattered by the cold hard reality of a rutted c-road barely fit for tractors.

About 4 hours to get 250 kilometers.

After driving around the city several times, we found a friendly guest house with a central courtyard covered in a beautiful grapevine.

Lots of German travellers around a table. After a chat, Dorothy from Stuttgart took me to the internet shop - and that's where I am right now!

(The photo at the top of this entry shows a participant arriving in Samarqand for the all-Uzbek outsize medicated toilet roll competition. We late heard that this entry was disqualified as he had received assistance from Izal)

Bukhara

Not too bad a night sleeping under the stars - even saw a shooting star.

Straight to the border crossing, I feared another ordeal on the Turkmen side but it was effortless. The Uzbek border was orderly and no bribes! We were through in 2 hours.

The initial road did not bode well. But we soon came across smooth tarmac and the road to Bukhara was excellent.

We got there in about an hour and drove straight into the centre.

What a beautiful place.

Ancient Mosques and tall minarets standing like giant chess pieces. The dome of the central mosque was blue (Lapus Lazuli?). The place was an archaeological dream, all from the 15th century.

Small, domed markets joined up the streets and the most beautiful stepped pond surrounded by fountains sat in the centre of town.

I bumped into Alex in a bar next to the pond. We decided that it was in our interest not to go on to Samarqand - this place was heaven.

We checked into the hotel Caravan and cleaned up (thanks for the travel wash Mum). Back to the pond for cold beer.

We met (for the second time) a team in a London Taxi. 3 lads and an older guy. We later found out that one of the young lads father was 2nd in command at MI6 and had 'sent the boys in' to collect Milosevic. The older guy was an ex-foreign correspondant for an American news agency.

Cool.

We met a Dutch guy and 2 french sisters. The evening was set and we drank ice cold beer until late.

A wonderful place and a wonderful day.

Get me the hell out of here

Woke early and straight off for the Uzbek border.

Another 550km shlep.

This time we went through the real desert. Just sand dunes and strong winds. It was terrifying.
If we had broken down, someone would have been along in minutes to help, but it was scary to someone who is never more that 20 yards from water most of their life.

A real grind of a drive. There was nothing eventful - we got to Chardzhou at 8pm to find that the border was closed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A night in the sleeping bag next to the car beckoned.

New Order

We drove in shifts through the night through the desert.

At sunrise, we came across Camels crossing the road - we were not hallucinating.

We stopped in "KAFE" for green tea and to look at the desert. Absolutely spectacular.

After a total of 525km, on the most basic roads, we arrived in Asgabat at about 1.30 pm - a 13 hour drive.

We were exhausted and utterly filthy.

We checked into the Hotel Tukmenistan - the oldest building in Ashgabat (1948) The city had previously been destroyed by an earthquake.

The hotel was another soviet monument - black and green 'marble', but clean and with a restaurant and laundry.

I had the best shower of my life, shaved and joined Alex for my first food in 50 hours.

Cheburek - meat pie for those of you not in the know. Salad and COLD water.

I slept until 6 when I was presented with a pile of clean laundry. Another high point - my first clean clothes in 2 weeks!

I had a wonder around the centre.

It seems as if the whole place is just filled with monuments to its leaders past and present, and empty office buildings.

Back to bed.

Paperwork

We had sailed in the night and were arriving in Turkmenbashi.

A sheer cliff behind the port warned of one of the hottest places on earth.

We were shepherded around the lower decks while the crew untangled an articulated lorry from the car deck. What a farce.

We were then led to teh customes and immigration hall after having been made to queue in the baking sun. (Bear in mind that by this point I had not washed since the morning of our departure)

Then followed 12 and a half hours of utter madness during which I think I signed my name 25 times and got 11 different pieces of paper.

I was dehydrated and had a bad case of Aztec 2-step.

utter Hell. We finally left port at 12.30 am. In No mood to seek accomodation, Alex and I headed for Ashgabat.

Mutiny

So, here were are, on the Caspian Sea, not moving.

What else is there to do?

The one item the ship did not lack was Vodka. The rest, I shall consign to the history books.

I went to bed at 8

Shiver me timbers

I got to the Turkmen Embassy at about 9.30 and there was a large congregation of Mongol Ralliers.

Communication breakdown - we were supposed to be on a list which gave us acces to Turkmenbashi but the Azeri authorities would not let us on the boat without valid visas.

After protracted negotiation, we secured a validated copy of the list. We headed straight for the port.

What a dump!

Another diesel smelling series of sheds and rutted tracks, but, to our total shock, there was a boat waiting.

We knew we were being ripped off but we didn't care. We managed, after extensive paperwork, to get on. The hold was full of trains carrying granulated chemical products - this did not bode well. There was also an ice-cream van!!!!

The boat was pure post-communist mess - it was a tired out rust bucket with the ever-present diesel smell. Nothing fitted, nothing worked and the loos - well, lets just not go there.

All seemed well, dinner at 8, there were supplies (we had been led to believe it was BYO).

We sailed at 5 in very strong winds. After the stern had scraped half of the dock wall off.

All seemed well.

At 8 we ate! Then, the sound of an anchor and the engines stopped. We managed to ascertain that the ship would have to stay put for 48 hours until the wind died down - I was in dispair.

I went to bed early praying for calm.

I missed you too

So, last we spoke, we were spending our last night in Iran.

The next morning we headed for the border to Azerbaijan - what border?

We drove around Astara for about half an hour and were directed down a filthy side street with rutted tracks - of course, a major international border.

4 Hours spent in diesel smelling sheds - more suitable for large scale HGV repairs. After an enormous amount of paperwork and at least an hour cooking in the hot sun, we were through to Azerbaijan.

There was only one problem, it was closed for lunch.

So, with no cash, we decided that a dip in the Caspian sea was the right thing to do. WRONG!

I practically lost the whole front end in the sand. After a lot of help from the locals, the car was restored to firm ground. We had a wonder ful dip and emerged to find that Azerbaijan had re-awoken from its siesta.

We went to the bank - got money, water and an ice-cream and headed for Baku.

The roads were not so good and after several hours we reached the outskirts. We pulled in at a beach resort and, after several dry days, enjoyed an ice cold beer and meal. It was hellishly windy and chairs and skirts were flying everywhere.

Into the city.

We were greeted by designer shops, posh hotels and no sight of the port.

We checked into the Abshoram Hotel and headed for the bar.

Suddenly, from nowhere, we were surrounded by other teams - it was the bottleneck for the ferry to Turkmenistan.

We drank into the night in the knowledge that I had to get up early to go to the Turkmen Embassy - rumour was that visas were not going to be issued

Country road - take me home

An early start to head for the Caspian sea and Astara - border with Azerbaijan.

The drive started OK. Same desert scenery, bu at about midday, we faced a steep climb into the mountains. We must have gone up 1km in about 5 km. The car didn't like it but coped OK. Once in the mountains, we drove for an hour, again, spectacular scenery until suddenly the air got very cool and we were driving through thick clouds - we had (according to O-level geography) got to the coastal range.

Everything became green and lush and soon we started to descend.

It took about an hour to get to the coast. We were split between heading north or South. Our minds were made up when we saw signs for a camp site.

We went down a forest road and were on the Caspian Sea. YUCK!

Filthy beach and really not where we wanted to be.

We drank a couple of 'Lemon Delsters'. (Think of lemonade shandy - 88% lemonade 12% Alcohol free beer)

A family advised us to head for Astara - we drove the 50 miles up the coast and found a flea-pit hotel. After a wander round the town - bed!

further into Iran

We woke up a a bit late and Alex had decided that there were a few places of interest that we should see. Mainly archaeological.



To our surprise, there was a pink Clio and a Mini with a red telephone box on the top - fellow ralliers!

Pleasantries exchanged, they headed for Tehran, we headed into the desert. We drove for hours in searing tempreratures across spectacular desert scenery.

I'll cut a long story short here, we could not find any sites of interest as nothing is signposted. However, we did stumble across an enormous reservoir in the middle of the desert - we went for a swim, helped a motorcyclist in distress and distributed lollipops to local kids.

People are wonderful here, genuinely friendly and welcoming. They love that there are westerners who take time out to come to Iran.

After out swim, we heased for a small town that would set us on the right course for the drive to the Azeri border.

We checked into a hotel and went for a walk.

We were mobbed by local lads, deperate to make friends. At first it was great, but soon became overwhelming. I was trying to find a cool shirt - they simply dont do XXXXXXXXXXL in Iran.

We sought refuge in the hotel. We were followed by an older guy. He asked to sit with us at our table. He explained he was a teacher at high school. He taught Persian but knew some English poetry. He started to recite Wordsworth.

Then he explained how his son had been executed by the authorities 13 days ago. We didn't quite know what to say.

I went to bed, I was tired and sunned out - it can really take it out of you - the extreme heat.

Into Iran

Its been a few days but we've busy in Iran where the internet is hard to come by.

This is going to be brief - I'll flesh it out later.

We left Turkey after a spectacular drive which culminated in crossing the border into Iran next to Mount Ararat (Bibles out please).

The Iranian border was chaos, it seems that the Turkish hate the Iranians and vice versa, but everyone loves a Brit! After nearly 4 hours of paperwork, we were through.

Our first port of call in Iran was Maku. We found a government run hotel and were practically the only people there. It was friendly and out first impressions were good, apart from the shock of long petrol queues.

No worries as they say down under.

and so to bed

Pootle

Up at 9. Everythıng soggy. Not the best sleep ever but better than none.

We pıled everythıng ınto the Mıcra

After a few glasses of tea and a breakfast party wıth the locals we started to head east along the Black Sea Coast road. We then headed ın land for Erzurum. It was a gentle pace as we clımbed ınto the mountaıns green and lush along wındıng valley road ınterspersed wıth tunnels through the sıde of the valley.

The rıver was dammed ın several places and the lakes contaıned trout farms.

We even stumbled across a regatta!

Noıt havıng eaten all day, we stopped for Pıde. Any ıdea?

To those of us ın the know, ıts Turkısh Pızza. Step asıde Italy, thıs ıs the real thıng. Fantastıc.

A few more hours and we were over the top of the dıvıde.

The landscape changed dramatıcally.

Parched, but obvıously fertılle rollıng hılls. Bee hıves everywhere.

Tıme to call ıt a day. So we pulled ınto a small town called Bayburt and found a decent hotel. £25 for the nıght and a shower so powerful I've washed my rather suspıcıous tan clean off.

Next door to the Hotel wıs an ınternet Cafe - and that where I am rıght now.

Early nıght tonıght and an early start for (hopefully) the Iranıan border

Bratwurst or Saveloy?

Up at 5am to get out of Istanbul. Our goal was Samsun on the Black Sea Coast.

We drove non-stop for about 500 mıles through the most spectacular landscape. Up ınto the arıd mountaıns of central Turkey. Over the other sıde ıt became even more spectacular. Thıngs got greener and more lush. Really beautıful. But a hard drıve.

At about 6pm we stumbled across a campsıte about 10km outsıde Samsun.

Set ın rows of pınes the soıl/sand was muddy brown.

Before we had a chance to realıse that the place was absolutely fılthy we had drink - 3 Efes (THE Turkısh beer)

We ate Kofta and drank more. I pıtched tent and only afterwards realısed that I was next to an overflowıng bın (queue bluebottle sound-effects Bren).

We met a Dutch guy - Jack. In hıs fıftıes. He had been cyclıng from Holland for the past three months. Remarkably, he had no use of hıs left arm - ıt was very wıthered. The guy was abıt of an enıgma. He was totally alone. Imagıne cyclıng wıth one arm through mountaıns - and then pıtchıng a tent. Incredble.

Jack was headıng for Trabzon and then a boat to Odessa ın the Ukraıne. Then Poland Germany and back home for October/November.

The camp sıte was full of famılıes settıng up barbecues and loads of bıg - tarpualın tents.

By the tıme I got ınto my tent ıt dawned upon me that I was goıng to be subjected to dıre turkısh pop musıc untıl the early hours. Then the local youth arrıved revvıng theır engınes.

To cap ıt all the heavens opened and my tent could do nothıng to stop ıt. I slept on and off ın a soggy quagmıre. Ah the outdoor lıfe.

The fınal straw? My rıght arm was red and my left arm was chına whıte. (See tıtle)

I had fınally achıeved a truckers tan

Turkey wıth all the trımmıngs

Absolutely frozen when I woke up. Left the aır condıtıonıng on.

Anywayş breakfast overlookıng the Dardanelles and all the shıps queueıng to get ınto the Black Sea.

Alex kındly agreed to show me around the vıcınıty of the hotel.

Fırst ıno one of the cısterns - stunnıng underground reservoırs. All beautıfully laıd out wıth the ceılıng supported by columns - each one dıfferent. Carp swam and I made a wısh at a wıshıng post (Please let us get all the way to Mongolıa)

Then we walked past the spectacular Blue Mosque and ınto the massıve Central Bazaar. A maze of walkways wıth thousands of shops. Sadly rather homogonısed. We were hopıng to fınd ruffled shırts and velvet bow tıes whıch we would don to celebrate our arrıval.

I wandered off and left Alex to look for hıs bıts and bobs. I went to the Blue Mosque and to do the last 4 entrıes on the blog. I met Alex ın teh gardens of a beautıful old mosque near the Hotel. I drank turkısh tea (bıtter). We were questıoned by an Amerıcan woman who had seen the Mıcra parked outsıde the hotel. 'Awesome'

I went to try and sort out the car sounds ın a place called Sırkecı - a market full of electronıcs. Success - we have musıc.

Alex and I went back there later to walk along the promenade.

We ate street food (Rıce stuffed Mussels and Mackerel Sarnıes - Yuuuuuummm!)

Back to the Hotel for an early start the next mornıng.

Countıng sheep

We came to what we thought was an ındustrıal estate on the border wıth Hungary at Bechet. It was the actual border but we had to cross ınto Hungary by ferry.

In the pıtch dark, we crossed a massıve rıver ınto Hungary. The raın had fınally stopped.

Agaın, wıth Alex at the wheel, we decıded to press on to Sofıya. We went through the town of Vratsa and made ıt to the outskırts of Sofıya by 4am. By thıs tıme, Alex had been drıvıng for 15 hours and needed to stop.

Now, to those of you who have been ın the same room as me when I,m asleep, you would know why there's no way you can sleep. Poor Alex. After 15 hours at the wheel, I got 2 hours kıp - he got none.

At 6am, ıt was my turn to drıve. We found the maın motorway East to Plovdıv and then the border wıth Turkey. About an hour ınto the drıve, I realısed that I had nodded off at the wheel, only for a mıcro-second but that was enough. I'm too young to dıe and I have aspıratıons of makıng ıt the whole way to Mongolıa.

I stopped at a roadsıde cafe and ordered an espresso. Then another and then a Red Bull. After an hour I had consumed 4 espressos and 2 Red Bulls. It gave tıme for Alex to sleep ın the car.

By 8am, I felt as awake and alert as I ever I had ın my lıfe! Tıme to go. Near Chırpan, we were dıverted onto a small road by the Bulgarıan Polıce. We notıced that all the cars were foreıgn. After drıvıng through the hılls for up to an hour followıng all the other foreıgn cars, Alex persuaded me to stop and turn around.

He had worked out that we needed to go back about 10 kılometres and take a dıfferent road. Fınally, we got back onto the motorway and, realısıng that were were near the Turkısh border, we stopped to get rıd of our currency on food and petrol.

We had a salad, an omelette and some chıcken. After 30 hours on a packet of paprıka flavourded crısps ıt was sheer heaven.

Back onto the motorway and 10 km later we came to the Turkısh border. After a flurry of to-ıng and fro-ıng, we completed the beaurocracy and, wıth Alex drıvıng agaın, we made for Istanbul. Comıng ın to Istanbul by road ıs a rare treat. What an amazıng place - enormous. Basıcally, ıt took about 30 kılometres to get ınto the centre.

Arrıvıng at about 7pm, we found a really nıce hotel. After a much needed shower and change of clothes. It was also tıme to part wıth another of undıes. We got onto the roof terrace for a beer. At thıs poınt, I actually shed a tear. It was beautıful, we were just behınd the Blue Mosque and the terrace looked out over the sea. Hundreds of shıps waıtıng to get ınto the Bosphorus and the Black Sea. There was a cool breeze. It was one of those moments when you cherısh thae fact that you actually made ıt to your locatıon. It had been a mammoth drıve and I doff my Fez to Alex. Sterlıng stuff!

We went out for some Meze and another beer. By 11am I was fınıshed. I put the aırcon on and slept ıntıl 8am

The long and wındıng road

We headed down the motorway to cross ınto Romanıa.

Although ıt would have been quıcker to go through Serbıa, the ınsurance on the car covered us ın Romanıa and Mılosevıc had been arrested the nıght before. I rıghtly or wrongly asked Alex ıf we could take the Romanıa route and, to hıs credıt, he agreed.

It was hıs turn to put some hours ın at the wheel - boy dıd I get my money's worth.

We headed for Szeged on the Hungary-Romanıa border.

As soon as were across the border, the roads dısıntegrated. That lovely tarmac became pot-holed c-roads. We headed for Tımısoara along what appeared to be a major road. The weather was really dull whıch just enhanced the dıre state of thıngs ın Romanıa. Hundreds of dead lookıng vıllages fılled wıth dead-eyed people.

After an unscheduled tour of Tımısoara, the fun really started. We started to skırt a range of mountaıns to our left and then the heavens opened. To add to ıt all, we started to clımb ınto the mountaıns vıa wındıng, narrow roads whıch were serıously over populated wıth 32 tonners.

Then ıt happened, we dıscovered the Romanıan conta-flow. A testament to post Communıst ıneffıcıency.

We would waıt 5 or 10 mınutes ın a queue of traffıc for a lıght to change. Nothıng was comıng the other way. Then we would go, 5-20 cars passıngs roadworks through 1 foot deep puddles. But we would only go past 200 metres of works? Why the long tıme ın the queue. No sooner had we left one roadworks than we found more, then more. The raın got heavıer and heavıer. It took 5 and a half hours to get the 167 kılometres to Drobeta-Turnu Severın. We were treated to some excellent scenery culmınatıng ın a beautıful lake surrounded by by steep mountaıns. It was 8pm and we stıll had to get to Craıova. More (not so) rubbısh roads and by 10pm we were there.

We wanted out of Romanıa and Bulgarıa was the next stop.

Before we got there, we had to hıt a dreaded Romanıan 'b' road. By thıs tıme, we were ın a really bad storm. Lıghtıng and torrentıal raın. The roads were flooded around Craıova and a thought crossed my mınd that mıght have to stay.

Thıs ıs where we dıscovered our guıdıng star. We followed 2 Romanıan trucks along the border road. They drove lıke madmen at up 60 mıles an hour ın the worst raın I have ever seen along what turned out to be not a bad road. But I have to gıve credıt to Alex for what I can only descrıbe as some heroıc drıvıng whıch got us to border at mıdnıght.

Tıme to really get movıng.

Back into Germany after a meander through the western Czech Republic and straight onto the Autobahn: Brno, Vıenna, and ınto Hungary and Budapest.

A little diversion here. Quite nice really. We stumbled upon a scene by a lumber mill, next to the motorway. All I can say ıs how it made me aware of the difference ın cultures.

What I saw was a mother who appeared to be takıng her 3 daughters to a local disco. The young girls were dressed in some very revealing outfits and they seemed a little out of place. One of the girls was obviously saying goodbye to her father and was getting down out of the cab of his articulated lorry. A lovely family scene.

By the tıme we reached Budapest, we had decıded that we neede to rest and we headed a last few mıles down to a small (one horse) town called Kecskemet. We got room each at the Hotel Uno and brought all the wet gear ın. It was tıme to downsıze. I realısed that I would not have the tıme to shoot vıdeo or read hard backs. It was also where I parted wıth my fırst 2 paırs of undıes.

Shower and bed

Let's go!

the 19th of July has come at last and we're off.

My story begıns at packıng stage, and before you all flıck to the next paragraph, hang around, you mıght learn somethıng.

There comes a tıme ın life when 2 things come together. In my case the 2 things were travel and underpants. I had too many of them. They were also starting too look a bıt worn.

I came up with the simple equation

Travel+no desire to launder my smalls=the perfect opportunity to get rıd of them.

As I write this from Istanbul, I have left a trail of underpants across most of Europe. I feel more and more liberated the further East we go.

There wıll come a point however when I realise that either I have to go commando or buy the local version. That wıll be a story to be told and, I hope, wıll maintain your interest ın reading my travel journal.

OK, so after a few tearful farewells, we headed for Dover and then across the channel to France. Pretty uneventful apart from a minor detour through central Brussels havıng missed the ring road. This was where we discovered that having no horn could prove to be problematic.

We had made our minds up that we would head straight for the Czech Republic and the party.

After a shift each we made it to Klatova Castle. We came a respectable 5th.

The place was beautiful, set iın gorgeous rollıng hills.

Having been sleep deprived I left Alex to do the partying on my behalf.

We awoke on the second morning to soaking sleeping bags - it had rained really hard in the night.

Thangyew, thangyew....thangyew

Well folks, its the day before departure day and there are a few minor issues still to be dealt with.

However, the bottom line is that the car works, we have all the paperwork and I found some barely used underpants in the back of my sock drawer. That takes care of my underwear for the next 5 weeks!

This is definitely the final entry before we hit the tarmac. So, its a bit of an award ceremony.

Alex and I would like to thank the following.

Category A - for services to the mechanical well being of the car, we say an enormous thank you to:

Dave Piper garage services in Bishops Stoke (Making the car Rally-Proof)
Eddy Eagle and Co and Hampshire Diesel - in Sparsholt, for your helpful demeanour and generosity to the car and our cause.
Flintstones Tyres in Shirley, Southampton for errr..... really good tyres!
Simon and Droid - for the tools - nice!
Ian at Merlin Accessories, Nikel Close, Winchester - thanks for the err....accessories.

A large round of applause laydeez and gennelmen. Thangyew!

Category B - for services to the charitable cause (CNCF) and 'useful bits 'n' bobs'

Tom and Diana Snagge - for the space-age stove. The caffeine can now flow!
The Old Green Tree in Green Street Bath - cheers all!
To RCH Brewery in Weston-Super-Mare - cheers again (Mines a pint of Pitchfork if you're asking)
To Pat and Jim O'Brien - the orphans of Ulan Bataar say 'Ta!' (By the way, does this mean I can call you by your first names now? - after all, its been 25 years!)
Howard Shaw - who contributed directly to CNCF on our behalf

Category C - For being top people

Gareth, Peter and Mo Bloomfield for their support for the cause (Alex)

To Mark Bowler, Mark, an enormous thankyou for being there, and being a top mate, when Alex needed you.

To all the Staff and Volunteers at South Kilburn CAB Service, for putting up with nick's tiresome anecdotes and still buying me the best presents ever!!! I doff my camouflage cap in your general direction.

Finally, both us want to say to anyone else, if you are not mentioned by name, its because Nick has the memory of goldfish but still thanks you anyway.

Adieu

The Route

View Larger Map


This post is for my daughter, Anna.

JST class at Bethania Lutheran School near Brisbane are about to have a geography lesson.

You can move the map about with your mouse and follow the cities.

So, here goes:

Start in London England, then go east to Dover. Here's where we catch the Ferry to France. Then, we drive across Belgium into Germany, via Frankfurt am Main and further East to the Czech Republic. The we stay at a castle near Plzen. The we go to Bratislava in Slovakia, then to Romania and Hungary and finally ending up in Bulgaria.

This is where we leave Europe and go into the 'Middle East' by going to Istanbul in Turkey. Then we drive across Turkey and go into Iran. From Iran, we go into Azerbaijan to the port of Baku. Here we get on a boat to Turkmenistan.

We drive further East through Turkmenistan and then go North to Uzbekistan. We go through Samarkand and Tashkent and go further East to Kyrgystan. Then North to Kazakhstan.

Then we go about 1500 kilometres until we get to Russia.

From the border we drive to Novosibirsk. then we take the M53 East to Lake Baikal. Around the lake to Ulan Ude.

From Ulan Ude we go down into Mongolia and then finish our journey in Ulaan Bataar in Mongolia

PHEW!

SUCKERS!

980 of them in fact.

in true altruistic mode, Nick has invested in an extremely large stock of lollipops. Well, the kids always seem to loose out. Plus, we hear that the border guards en route are partial to bit of confectionery.

So, Posh Lollies all round.

Another major milestone today, I picked up our 2 passports from the Visa Machine offices in West London. It brought a little tear to my eye looking at all those unpronouncable (if not illegible) stickers in my passport. After all, there's 8 days to go and the insomnia has really kicked in for both of us.

We needn't worry really, after all, as long as we have the car, passports and cash - we're away.

The car goes to Winchester to get some smart new all-terrain tyres this weekend. I cant wait to see what a Micra looks like with all-terrain tyres.

Its all eyes on the 19th now. After that, god only knows where the next post will come from.

Keep it Low Beam

Nothing can stop us now

Another milestone reached over the weekend and we haven't even got the car to the start line yet.

Finally, the beaurocracy is finished. But it wasn't without its controversy. I had to make the decision to abandon the arrangements made to meet an Iranian National at the Barzagan border of Iran/Turkey, so that he could arrange our Carnet to get the car through. The decision was reached after there were simply too many requests for contraband and money. The idea of taking a bottle of Scotch into Iran was the final straw. I started to have visions of Midnight Express and the sleepless nights started.

After some frantic face-booking, and some help from fellow ralliers (Many thanks), I contacted the good old RAC who, in typical friendly manner, are going to sort out the Carnet in 10 days. So, without the need for loss of extremities, we have customs clearance for Iran.

I want to point out that in our desire to have Iranian endorsements on our passports, we have paid a heavy price. Over £400 in official paperwork to spend what will be a couple of days in Northern Iran. It had better be worth it.

The visas are also completed thanks to a mammoth effort by the rally's 'Visa Machine', but the real purpose of this entry is to pay tribute to one of the erstwhile unsung heroes of our quest to get moving.

Yes folks, a big shout goes out to the man in the Green Tree with the pint of Pitchfork. Lets hear it for the big D.A.D. My longsuffering father, Malcolm Ward. The man who, through his generosity, has ensured that his (not so) little boy, gets safe passage through about 10 countries.

Pater, I am, as always, in awe. Thankyou.

We are now less than 3 weeks from d-day. Then the fun really starts.

You know where to put those beams? Low of course!

Fancy a rear view?

Sorry, she asked that I show off her rear end - marvellous!

Isn't she lovely?

Its a week since my last my post. I've been a little preoccupied. I have to report that I'm truly madly deeply in love and its taking up all of my time.

Here she is. I managed to persuade her to pose for me. She's not shy and she even agreed to do it without clothes on.



What a beauty eh?

Left turn only!

Hello all and welcome to another exciting instalment in the adventures of two large men in a very small car.

I took delivery of the car yesterday and drove it from Wincanton to London.

First, I want to say that I'm really chuffed, yes, really chuffed with the car. Andrew and Alex have done us proud, however, I feel in the interests of providing you, the reading public, with as much information as possible, I should point out a few comedy aspects of the car.

1. Sharp left turn if left to its own devices.
2. No horn.
3. No self-cancelling indicators.
4. Loud squeak when entering built-up areas.
5. Radio only plays cricket commentary (Even if there's no cricket on!)
6. Loud knocking on full steering lock.

I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I really feel that Mongolia is within our grasp. So, to all you naysayers, I offer the two fingered salute.

On a nicer note, It gives me great pleasure in announcing that we have fulfilled our obligations to charity by raising in excess of £1000. The total was reached with a very generous donation from my mum!

So, a big thankyou to Ursula Ward, the orphaned children of Mongolia will sleep well tonight.

This doesnt mean that you cant still donate, after all, lets not lose sight of the fact that this is all being done for a good cause.

Finally, I got a bit of a ticking off from the ball and chain about the lack of acknowledgement for the support coming from 'down-under' (Sorry Tonia)

So, Hans, Cindy, Patricia, John, Christopher, Ricky, Donna, Jackie, Neil and all the other antipodeans who have not been mentioned by name, I say, g'day and thanks for the Aussie good wishes.

Also, this is my chance to dedicate my part in all of this to my daughter, Anna. Dont worry my love, one day you'll wake up and realise that daddy really should have been committed to that institution after all and there really was nothing you or mummy could ever do to cure him!

Anyway, all the platitudes over, the task is at hand!

Stay Low Beam.

Large Donor Please

Its been a while, too long. Especially as there have been some developments.

Here's a quick round-up of the most important news

1. Car

The car has arrived and is living in Wincanton. I'm going to pick it up next week. Its a 1996, 5-door, white, Nissan Micra. Alex and his brother Andrew have been giving it the once over and making it ready for the installation of the magic tree. It falls 2cc within the 1-litre rule and, according to Andrew, is a 'good runner'.
Andrew, we'll give you the full verdict from Ulan Bataar.

2. Visas/Red Tape

We're up to 5 each. Including Russia and Iran. Only a few more to go and we'll be ready for the off on the 19th July.
Nick is in negotiations with an Iranian national to arrange a Carnet de Douane to get the car through Iran. His request for contraband has been firmly and politely refused as I have become quite attached to my body parts over the last 43 years and feel that losing any extremity in return for even the best sngle malt is a tall order. Sorry Hossein.

3. Sponsors

We are pleased to announce that our sponsorship is going to plan. If you're thinking of donating, try this link http://www.willwemakeit.com/lowbeam .
In the meantime, a big thankyou to Liz O'Brien, Moray Watson, Colin Ward and Andrea Ward for their generous support for the cause.
Also, a big thankyou to Andy Hilton for the Jerry Cans and also to Malcolm and Mairead for the security 'stuff' (say no more).

So, in keeping with the spirit of the trip 'Be unprepared' we have done precious little else. Apart from the mandatory European Safety equipment and a rudimentary First Aid Kit, I'm making a small pile of suitable underwear/sundries. That should see me as far as Bucharest. After that I'll be on the goat skin cod pieces.

Keep it Low Beam.