Tag: explore

Making it to Mongolia

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Mongolia has been a country on our “must visit” list for as long as we can remember. For years we have hankered after views of vast open landscapes, soaring eagles and for a taste of the nomadic way of life. Months of preparation, six weeks of driving and 14,000 kilometres led us to this point. Finally, it was time to enter Mongolia.

—

Or was it? As we queued up at passport control at the Mongolian border crossing, it seemed there was a problem with our visas. We still aren’t sure exactly what sort of problem, but it had something to do with the dates (which we knew were fine). After a lot of toing and froing (and waiting – mostly waiting), our passports and visas were returned to us… with the date crossed out, and a new date written in its place.

This was a bit weird, but didn’t matter to us. What did matter was the delay this had caused. It was 5pm and the border was closing for the day. We had limited time to get through the customs process if we wanted to avoid a night in the border compound and to try to catch up with our Kiwi friends. Luckily there was no one else around, and the border officials were in just as much of a hurry to get us processed and out of there as we were to get into Mongolia.

Except, at the final hurdle, there was a problem with the computer. We couldn’t be processed. I was told that we would have to come back tomorrow.

“We can’t come back tomorrow”, I replied. It wasn’t a lie. We couldn’t leave and go back to Russia – we had been stamped out. We would have to wait exactly where we were, even if that meant waiting until the following morning. I stood outside the customs office and waited. And waited. And waited. And looked a bit sad.

Eventually, the border officials seemed to a) realise we weren’t going to leave (there was nowhere we could go), and b) feel a bit sorry for us. They started making some phone calls, and actually started to try and get the computers to work. All of a sudden, the computer worked again and the final bit of the bureaucracy jigsaw puzzle could be completed. We were in.

—

We found the Kiwi team waiting for us just on the other side of the border compound. Thankfully they hadn’t given up hoping that we would make it through before the end of the day, and we all drove together on the first section of bad road from the border crossing to the small town of Tsagaannuur.

As soon as we pulled into town, we met a local man on a motorbike. He wanted us to stay in his hotel for the night, and promised that for just $5 per person we could enjoy a comfortable night’s stay and a delicious yak-based meal. It sounded too good to be true, and in some ways, it was.

The hotel was his family’s house. There was one room where we could all sleep on the floor. The yak meal was… lacking in yak meat. But, before we could eat and rest, the men were needed to help with a little job.

Another Mongol Rally car had got stuck between the town and the border, somewhere off road. Shane, Mike and Nick went off on a local truck to perform a rescue operation. The truck didn’t have enough petrol, so they stopped to get petrol. Then the truck over heated, so they stopped by a lake to put water in it. Then, they were asked to lift the car onto the truck, but even though they are all very, very strong, this was impossible. Instead they found a way of pushing the car onto a bank, and then onto the truck. And then the truck broke down again. By the time they returned it was very dark, very cold and they were glad of the warm stove back at our “hotel”.

Rescuing and fixing the stuck Mongol Rally car

 

A night of vodka drinking and musical instrument playing ensued, and then we all fell sound asleep.

Music time!

—

Over the next two days we drove around 700km, sometimes on dirt and gravel tracks, and sometimes on smooth tarmac. We passed through the towns of Olgii, Khovd and Altai, and camped by some yurts and then in the wild Mongolian desert, where we were joined by team Fiat to Believe it and team Mongolia Independent Trading Co.

Crowding around the campfire in the middle of the Mongolian wilderness

The next day was the big day. We knew that from Altai to the next big town of Bayankhongor there were no roads. For 270km we would have to drive Martha off-road. We had heard rumours from other teams that this was the worst stretch of the entire Mongol Rally. It had claimed the lives of many perfectly healthy and happy cars. Martha had been perfect so far, but we knew that she could die at any time. We resolved to stick together as a convoy of four cars, and set off on what we assumed would be the hardest, scariest and most adventurous part of our whole journey.

—

What we found was altogether quite different. Shane did the majority of the off-road driving, and he loved it. Martha also loved it. Even I loved it. We had been planning to go very slowly, but quickly discovered there was no need. Martha loved driving as fast as she could. We sprinted with the other cars. We (deliberately) slid and skidded around. We reached speeds of 100km per hour on the dusty tracks. This wasn’t the worst road of the rally at all – in fact, it was the best road!

The fun we were having was tempered by our encounters with other teams. We met two teams convoying together who seemed to be having big problems (both car related and team dynamic related). Then we met a team parked in a very small town who’s engine had collapsed and was irreparable. Just like Martha, their car had been perfect every step of the way so far. Just like us, they hadn’t even had a flat tyre. But now, they had hit a bump, and their car was completely dead. They were having to arrange a tow truck to take them to Ulaanbaatar at a cost of $600, and then would need to make other arrangements to get the car out of Mongolia. It was a stark and sad reminder that things could go very badly wrong at anytime.

But Martha continued to drive happily through Mongolia. It felt like she was made for off-road racing. She had reached her goal, and so had we.

As darkness fell, we pulled off the road with the three other teams and camped in the Mongolian desert again. As Mongolia is the least densely populated country in the world, we didn’t have to try too hard to find a spare bit of space!

The next morning we had a decision to make: try and get to Ulaanbaatar as quickly as possible, or detour for a bit more off-road fun and some sight seeing. Team Fiat to Believe it had a rapidly expiring visa so had to head straight to Ulaanbaatar, but the rest of us opted for a slower pace and some more exploring.

Our first stop was a very strange horse shrine just off the main road. There were lots of statues of horses and horse skulls, but no explanation. We still have no idea what it was all about, but it made for an interesting stop.

Mystery horse shrine

Next we ventured off-road looking for some hot springs. After taking a few different tracks, stopping to ask for directions at a village (where Shane did a hilarious mime of bathing in a hot spring), and driving back on ourselves again, we found a strange holiday resort with a small pool of hot water. As this was day six without a shower for all of us, it didn’t take much time or much persuading for us to hop out of our dirty clothes and into the warm water.

All was well. Then we noticed that Jamie from the Independent Mongolian Trading Co. had disappeared. When he returned, it was with an interesting story. Some nearby locals had insisted he visit their house to see their dead Marmot, drink their horse’s milk and watch Titanic (unfortunately, not in English). Thankfully, we didn’t miss out, as the same locals followed him back to the pool and insisted we all drink the horse milk and come to visit the dead Marmot when we were finished in the hot spring. It was a fun afternoon.

—

After a bit more driving, we pulled over near some yurts in search of a place to stay. One woman invited us to stay in her yurt with her and her two daughters for a small fee, and made us a very large meal of goat, noodles and potato. As we ate and warmed ourselves by the fire, she then proceeded to tell us the story (several times) of how her eldest daughter was conceived.

Despite the language barrier, her detailed mimes gave us a good idea of what had happened. Approximately nine years and nine months ago, a man called Michael had come to visit, stayed with her for two nights, got her pregnant, and then flew back to Germany and left her. He may also have visited Paris. We don’t know whether Michael is aware he has a daughter in the middle of Mongolia, but if anyone knows a Michael (probably from Germany), who visited Mongolia nine years and nine months ago, there is an angry woman looking for him.

Bedtime in the yurt

 

Our room for the night

—

On our sixth day in Mongolia, we finally made it to the capital – Ulaanbaatar. Driving into a big city after days of empty desert was a surreal experience. Almost half of all the people who live in Mongolia live in Ulaanbaatar, and as the traffic was so bad it took us about half an hour to drive about 500 metres in the city centre, we could tell.

It didn’t take long for us to find the nearest Irish pub where we met with another Mongol Rally team, and some of us indulged in a few celebratory beverages. This quickly descended into chaos, and by the next morning there were three lost phones, a lost passport and a lost wallet. Thankfully, Shane and I managed to keep hold of all of our belongings.

We decided to stay for a few days in Ulaanbaatar. We wanted a rest in a real bed, a hot shower and to see some of the sights.

First on the list was the Central Museum of Mongolian Dinosaurs. Mongolia was a hotspot for dinosaurs back in dino-times, and it was great to see the bones of some really weird dinosaurs that we have never seen before.

Next we went to visit a giant statue of Genghis Khan. Despite the fact that he is responsible for an estimated 40 million deaths, Genghis Khan is considered to be a national hero in Mongolia for uniting the Mongolian nomadic tribes and founding the Mongol Empire. It was an interesting but quiet day at the statue: the complex was built with thousands of daily visitors in mind, but we saw only a handful of people.

Giant statue of Genghis Khan

At the Genghis Khan statue we waved goodbye to team Kiwis Crossing. After a week of convoying together through Mongolia, the Kiwis were heading straight up to Ulan Ude to officially complete the rally, while we planned to stay in Ulaanbaatar for a little longer.

—

As we come towards the end of our time in Mongolia, Shane and I have mixed emotions. We are very relieved that Martha has made it this far and didn’t die in the middle of the Mongolian wilderness. We have had a great experience driving through the country and it has been as impressive and interesting as we could have hoped for. We can’t believe it’s nearly time to say goodbye to Mongolia, goodbye to the Mongol Rally and goodbye to Martha. In just a few more days we will drive back into Russia and, all being well, we will cross the final finish line.

 

The Pamir Highway

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The Pamir Highway is an excellent challenge for a large four-wheel drive vehicle. The 1,200km road starts in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, crosses the Pamir Mountains, and ends in Osh, Kyrgyzstan. It is known as the “roof of the world”, as it reaches dizzy heights of 4,700 metres, and it is also known for its challenging road conditions, which range from OK to disaster. It’s the ultimate road trip.

When we arrived in Dushanbe, the owner of our hostel asked whether we were planning to visit the Pamir Highway. The route is a major draw for tourists, so he wasn’t surprised when he said yes. Then he asked us how we were going to get there. We looked confused. We pointed at Martha and explained that she was our car, and we were going to drive her all the way. Now he looked confused, and then alarmed. “No, no, no!” he said. “This car cannot do the Pamir Highway!”

Challenge accepted.

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DAY ONE

Martha was sounding a little unhappy because of the dodgy Uzbekistan fuel. Now that we had made it to Tajikistan, we filled her with decent quality petrol and some octane booster. It seemed to do the trick.

Our first day on the Pamir Highway was smooth and simple. We drove from Dushanbe to Kulob, and eventually we reached the river Panj, which marks the border between Tajikistan and Afghanistan. We were in a valley, which was very beautiful, and we were just a stone’s throw away from Afghanistan. We could see Afghan villages, roads and people right up close.

Martha getting close to Afghanistan

 

An Afghan village across the river

It was fascinating, but being so close to the border also presented a couple of issues. Two other Mongol Rally teams who had driven this route a few days before us had run into problems. One team had tried to camp next to the border (the road goes so close that you can’t really camp anywhere else), and had been picked up by the Tajik army in the middle of the night and taken to sleep in one of their bases. Another team had accidentally taken a wrong turn and had ended up in a Taliban controlled area. Luckily they were OK, but they’d had to bribe some Tajik military officers to get them out (and not arrest them).

Having spent time in military and police compounds in Pakistan several years ago, I had no wish to repeat the experience, so we tried to find somewhere to camp that would be safe and wouldn’t involve any late night army or Taliban adventures. As the sun was starting to set we arrived at a small village. It was close to the Afghanistan border, but shielded by trees and, as people were happily living their everyday lives there, we thought it was probably safe.

We asked whether it would be OK to put up our tent and camp in the village, and a young man who spoke English said it would be fine, and gave us a tour of the local area. (Here’s the river, here’s Afghanistan, here’s some tea and some fruit). We also had tea with an older man who seemed to own a lot of the land, and had made lots of money taking photos of the Tajik army. We looked at the pictures for a long time, and talked about religion and politics (I think he wanted to know what we made of Donald Trump). He also let Shane have a go with his catapult. Eventually we crawled into our tent for a sweaty night’s sleep.

Our camping spot

 

DAY TWO

The next day we were hoping to get to the next big town – Khorog – around 300km away. We started early and made good progress. Before lunchtime we reached a smaller town and saw another Mongol Rally team had stopped. We stopped too to check they were OK, and they were not OK. They had two cars – a Suzuki Jimney which looked like a serious expedition vehicle (not really in the spirit of the Mongol Rally but great for the Pamir Highway), and a VW Campervan. The VW Campervan had suffered some serious gearbox related damage and they were stuck.

We gave them one of our ratchet straps to help them fix their gearbox issue, but there wasn’t much more we could do. Martha was too small to tow the campervan and they were a big team so we couldn’t fit them in the car. They were planning to go all the way back to Dushanbe.

As the day continued, the roads started to deteriorate. We had to slow down. Our average speed dropped to about 10 km/hour, and stayed that way. At this rate it would take us about two weeks to finish the Pamir Highway, and we didn’t have two weeks. We started to worry that maybe Martha couldn’t cope with the bad roads after all.

It was clear that we weren’t going to make it to Khorog that day. As it started to get dark, we realized we had driven only 180km, despite starting our day at 6am. We looked for somewhere to camp, but we still hadn’t left the Afghanistan border so needed to be careful. We stopped in a village and asked around. A nice lady let us park Martha in her driveway, and another nice lady let us camp in her garden close (but not too close) to her cows.

All was well, until Shane woke me up in the middle of the night. He had realized that everything inside the tent was wet. Not just a little damp, but completely soaking. We got out of the tent and noticed that what we had thought was a good spot was actually in the middle of a sort of bog. The snow on the mountains around the valley had melted, so what had been a small stream was now a big marsh. The tent had flooded. We moved the tent to higher ground, but the swimming pool inside the tent didn’t disappear. It wasn’t the best night’s sleep we’ve ever had.

 

DAY THREE

We were quite happy to leave our swimming pool of a tent as early as possible the next day. We continued plodding along the terrible road as fast as we could (not very fast), and it wasn’t long before we encountered an interesting sight. There was a small pedestrian bridge linking Tajikistan to Afghanistan, and on the Tajik side of the bridge was a small penned area, with a significant number of police officers and military personnel. This turned out to be a weekly market where citizens from Afghanistan and Tajikistan were allowed to come together to trade without the stamping of passports or the purchasing of visas.

We carried on our way, and by lunchtime we had reached Khorog. In the afternoon we finally left the Afghanistan border behind us and started to climb higher into the mountains. The road started to improve, the temperature dropped, and the landscape started to open up around us.

Mountain views

It was so open that we struggled to find somewhere secluded enough to set up camp. We spotted two cyclists on the road and asked them what their plans were. They were going to Jelandy, about 8km away, where they said it was possible to get a hot shower. We thought we might as well follow them.

It was true: there was a place in Jelandy where you could get a hot shower. But this was no hostel or hotel, and there were no other tourists staying there. This was Sarez Sanitarium.

Nevertheless, it was comfortable enough. For $4 per person we were given two beds, free use of the sulphuric hot spring where we could (and did) bathe, free private parking and free use of the unattractive outside squat toilet. It was all a bit weird, but we had a bog-free night’s sleep.

 

DAY FOUR

As we climbed higher and higher into the mountains, the road started to disappear again, but suddenly it didn’t matter any more. The views were spectacular – we saw snow capped mountains, a wide and open plateau, and our first yak! Martha drove further and further uphill, eventually making it all the way up the highest mountain pass – 4,700 metres above sea level.

Snow capped mountain scenery

Martha reaches the high point of the Pamir Highway – 4,700 metres!

Around lunchtime we stopped in the next town – Murghab. It was incredibly isolated, and looked a little bleak. We still had a nice time visiting the town’s container market (a market where all the stalls have been made out of container ships), where Shane managed to buy an expensive banana (we have no idea how it can possibly have made it to Murghab), and had shashlyk and bread for lunch in a little shack café. If Murghab looked like a slightly depressing place to live in the summer, we could only imagine what it must be like in winter, when the temperature plumments to -40°C.

A “shipping container” market in Murghab

In the afternoon we continued to drive through spectacular scenery, and eventually we reached Lake Karakol – a bright blue lake sitting beneath the mountains. We had been hoping to camp by the lake but found another bleak looking village there, so thought we had better ask about the best place to set up our tent.

Lake Karakol

We were quickly directed to a couple who spoke some English, and they were happy to let us camp in their yard and use their facilities, and didn’t want any money at all. As we set up our tent, we noticed it was getting colder and colder. We used our camping stove to cook some spaghetti, but a combination of the lower boiling point of water at higher altitude and the general cold temperature and wind meant that the pasta was cold straight away. We quickly wrapped up warm and huddled into our tent.

 

DAY FIVE

Our next stop was Osh – the end point of the Pamir Highway. On the way we had to cross the border from Tajikistan to Kyrgyzstan, which proved to be an interesting experience.

Leaving Tajikistan was painful. Not only were the roads to the border falling apart (at one point Martha had to drive UP a waterfall), but it turned out to be our first experience with corrupt officials.

To leave the country, we had to visit four different people for checks and stamps. Each man sat in his own little hut, so we had to navigate our way around the various buildings. The man in the first hut asked us for our “disinfection” certificate for the car. We had no such thing. Had we missed something? Apparently so… the man showed us various other disinfection certificates and kept demanding to see ours. Eventually he said he would let us off if we paid him 80 somoni (about $9). We argued about it for a while, and Shane asked him to give us a receipt (well, to sign his name on a bit of paper), which he eventually did, so we paid up.

The second hut also proved interesting. This was customs. The man inside asked for our customs form, which we happily handed over. He then asked us for $10. “Why?” we kept asking. “What for?”. He couldn’t explain, and eventually he gave up and let us go. At this point we were convinced that something was amiss. These weren’t real charges – it was just the border officers trying to make some extra money out of us.

The story in the third hut was familiar. We needed three pieces of paper for the car, and we didn’t have them. Apparently we were supposed to register in Murghab, pay some money, and get this paperwork. We explained that we had registered in Murghab (you can’t avoid registering just about everywhere as there are constant police stops where you are registered), but we hadn’t been given any paperwork. This man was more aggressive than the others, and he demanded 200 somoni (about $25) to “let us off” and allow us to exit Tajikistan. By this time, we were convinced we were being scammed, so we dug our heels in. Shane wrote out a hand written receipt with the car registration number, the money and the border crossing, but the guy just scribbled it out and got very defensive. He wasn’t going to let us leave, so Shane threatened to put up the tent and sleep outside until we were allowed through. The man didn’t like that. We went backwards and forwards with arguments, and eventually the man stormed off in a strop.

Time was ticking on and we had a long journey ahead of us. We couldn’t get out without this man letting us through the gate, and it was clear he wasn’t budging on his terms. When he came back, it was with a new offer – for 88 somoni ($10) we could be free of Tajikistan. We argued a bit more, but eventually we gave in and handed over the money.

In case you are wondering, we did some research later about whether we were in the wrong. Perhaps we should have had a disinfection certificate. Perhaps there was a $10 customs charge. Perhaps we should have obtained three pieces of paperwork in Murghab for the car. Well, no. It turns out none of these fees were based in any kind of reality. We had effectively been conned.  Lesson learned for next time.

Thankfully our experience entering Kyrgyzstan was much more pleasant. Apart from a short wait to clear customs (actually waiting for the electricity to come back on), everything went smoothly and the border officers were all friendly and honest.

Kyrgyzstan itself was also very pleasant. The roads were in better condition, the landscape was much greener, and we soon found ourselves in Osh, which marked the end of the Pamir Highway. In Osh we had a lovely time exploring Central Asia’s largest bazaar and the world’s only three storey yurt.

The biggest bazaar in Central Asia

The world’s only three storey yurt

Green and yurt-filled Kyrgyzstan

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After five long days, some spectacular mountain views, some interesting sleeping experiences and some truly atrocious roads, we had made it to the end of the Pamir Highway. The scenery, the hospitality and the sense of adventure we experienced made this one of the highlights of the Mongol Rally so far. Martha drove on mountain roads, bad roads, sandy roads, no roads and even through rivers and waterfalls. She had made it to 4,700 metres above sea level, and is still in the same condition she was in when we left the U.K.

Mission accomplished. Who needs a massive four-wheel drive car when you have a gold Nissan Micra?!

The balcony of Europe

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The Romanian beach party was chaos. Of course, I was in bed by midnight (and despite drinking 12 free beers and some free shots of the local liquor, Shane wasn’t that far behind). But for other teams it was a messy all-nighter, culminating in the loss of important belongings (phones, wallets, passports, inflatable couches…)

Things that got lost at the Romanian beach party

The next day we were soon on the road to Bulgaria and to Turkey. Shane was probably still too drunk to drive, so I drove the long stretch on a windy, bumpy, one-car-at-a-time-only road through Bulgaria. Many, many hours later, we reached the Bulgaria-Turkey border crossing. This was fairly straightforward – I bought some expensive car insurance (our policy was only valid in Europe, so this is going to be a common occurrence from now on), we managed to skip the baggage check (a border guard took one look at our car full of stuff and obviously couldn’t be bothered unpacking it all and checking it, so waved us straight through), and another border guard stopped us right at the last minute…. to ask if he could sign Martha.

As we carried on down the road towards Istanbul, things took a downward turn. By this point, I’d been driving for around nine hours. We had only stopped to get petrol for Martha and to cross the border. I’d had nothing to eat, and very little sleep due to the noise from the crazy beach party the previous night. I needed a break. I asked Shane if he could take over the driving, and he gently pointed out that we had a little problem. I had managed to buy car insurance for myself (and for Martha) but not for Shane. I would have to drive the rest of the way, and all day the next day, and all day the following day, until we made it out of Turkey.

Then, things got a little worse. Having left the EU, we could no longer roam the internet for free, so were relying on a free app with the maps we needed downloaded onto it as our only navigation tool. This did not work very well, and we quickly found ourselves going on a big toll road in the wrong direction. We had no idea how to pay the toll, and there was no way off the road for the next 20 or 30 kilometers. We stopped at a petrol station to see if we could find out how to pay the toll (answer unclear, we ended up buying a special sticker for the car which acted as a kind of smart-toll-ticket… we loaded some money on to it but never really found out how it worked or if we paid enough). We also asked a nice man who spoke English whether the insurance I’d bought covered Shane to drive. He offered some conflicting information (no, the insurance didn’t cover Shane, but it did cover nine other drivers??), but reassured us that: “This is Turkey, so… of course you can drive. The Police can’t even read this.” Lovely. The man obviously felt sorry for us, as he also tried to pay our toll, which was incredibly generous. But of course we could not let him pay for our mistakes, so we thanked him and were on our way.

But on our way to where, exactly? We had found a potential campsite on the outskirts of Istanbul, but when we finally made it there (late at night), it didn’t seem like a safe or good camping spot at all. We attempted to navigate towards an alternative campsite (using our rubbish app), but ended up on a terrible pot-hole filled road, driving at snail speed, and worrying that the campsite would be full and / or closed by the time we arrived. We pulled into a restaurant to ask for some advice, ended up staying for a delicious meal, and becoming the star attraction as we made several new friends who wanted to sign Martha and hear about our journey.

A selfie with our new friends

 

Signing Martha

They also told us that there was nowhere safe to camp in the area, and suggested we head on another 30kms to the beach. Of course, we got lost, so they sent someone after us who made sure we followed him to the main road that led to the beach. Well, we still managed not to get to the beach, and instead pulled into a truck stop not far away from the centre of Istanbul and attempted to sleep in the car.

This turned out to be a mistake. We have a lot of stuff in the car: camping gear, food, bags, and general stuff. There is no room to sleep. We managed to clear the back seat but it was still very squashy and uncomfortable. It was also boiling hot – like being in a sauna. So, I opened the back window a tiny bit. This also turned out to be a mistake. After a sleepless night trying to get comfortable, panicking about local axe murderers and generally having a terrible time, I woke up to find I had been bitten around 30 times by mosquitoes in the night. I also woke Shane up at around 5am screaming because I thought someone was trying to get in through the open rear window. That was a serious Georgia-meltdown.

But, hoping that things could only get better from here, and vowing to find a proper campsite for the next night, we drove away from Istanbul at about 5.15am and so made it all the way to Samsun, around 800kms away, by the afternoon. We did find a proper campsite, and had a lovely evening drinking tea with some local residents and swapping stories (mostly about mechanical engineering).

Another drive day to Batumi in Georgia followed. The border crossing was a bit chaotic and took around two and a half hours, but we made it through without complications (although also without  car insurance, which is apparently not compulsory in Georgia) and stayed for two nights in a hostel to have a break from driving and a good night’s sleep in a real bed. We had a lovely day in Batumi going up the alphabetic tower, exploring the beach and chilling out in the old town.

Alphabetic tower, Batumi

Sunset looking over the Black Sea, Batumi

The following day we drove to Tbilisi, and had a very pleasant afternoon wandering around the old streets. Both Shane and I have enjoyed Georgia more than anywhere else so far (and not just because everything has my name on it).

It is like a hidden treasure, tucked away by the Black Sea, not quite in Europe, and not quite out of it – on the “balcony of Europe”, so to speak, with a unique identity and culture. Tbilisi seemed like a lovely destination for a weekend away. The only downside is that driving around is a nightmare. Cars do not have to have insurance, be road worthy in any way, and apparently do not have to follow normal road rules. That includes speed limits, traffic lights, stopping at junctions, giving way at roundabouts… just, you know, everything (Shane has written more about driving in Georgia here).

Tbilisi, Georgia

After another day of driving and another border crossing, we have now arrived in Baku in Azerbaijan. Rising out of the desert landscape, Baku is a strange mix of old and new, Asian and European. We spent the day walking the streets of the old city, visiting the Palace of the Shirvanshah’s, admiring the Flame Towers and attempting to visit the museum of miniature books (which is sadly closed on a Thursday).

Magic carpets, Baku, Azerbaijan

 

Sand artwork, Baku, Azerbaijan

We’ve driven around 5,000 kilometers now, and while we are still in Eurovision territory, the landscape is changing fast. Azerbaijan is flat and immense, and the heat is intense. We’ve also caught our first glimpse of the Caspian Sea. We’re hanging out on the balcony of Europe, about to (hopefully, ferry permitting) step off into the great unknown that is Central Asia.

 

 

 

 

 

The taste of freedom

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We have now been on the road for five days. We’ve covered 3,000 kilometres and have reached the Black Sea at the edge of Europe. We’ve started to adjust to living out of our car, sleeping in our tent, changing currencies and time zones and stopping for petrol multiple times a day. We’ve also started to enjoy our newfound sense of freedom.

From the Dover-Calais ferry, we drove East (common theme) through France to reach a lake in South East Belgium where I’d researched a potential wild camping spot. We had planned to wild camp most nights during the rally – both to save money and to give ourselves maximum freedom and flexibility, but as we pulled off a quiet road through even quieter farmland to find the recommended spot, Shane started to have reservations about the remote location.

By this point it was late at night. It was dark. We were pretty exhausted and hadn’t eaten for several hours. So, of course, we had a little argument about what to do. Shane wanted to try and find a more established campground – we were down a dead end and he thought that if an axe murderer came along we wouldn’t be able to escape. I thought it was fine and wanted to go to sleep. Unsurprisingly, I won, and we snuggled down for the night.

All was well, until I heard a noise in the night. I woke Shane up, panicking that the axe murderer had come for us. Shane poked around the tent, while I lay in my sleeping bag, wondering how we were going to get to Mongolia when we couldn’t survive a night in Belgium. Shane thought the noise was probably a squirrel. We have stayed in proper campsites every night since.

The scene of the squirrel attack: wild camping in Belgium

Day two involved a fairly leisurely drive to the German town of Heidelberg – a very pretty area with an impressive looking castle and historic bridge. Shane and I spent some time on the “philosopher’s walk”; some scenic paths near the university which various philosophers, poets and academics used to wander to clear their heads, develop their ideas and enjoy views of the river and town. So Shane and I spent the afternoon following in their footsteps, walking the paths and trying to achieve inner peace after our first full-on couple of days.

Views of Heidelberg from the philosopher’s walk

On day three we headed to Prague to meet up with our fellow Mongol Rally teams at the Mongol Rally Czech Out party. We arrived early and headed into the city for a stroll around the old town and an ice cream, before returning for a couple of drinks, catching up with some of the other teams, and watching a feature film about a man who hitch hiked his way to Mongolia with various teams on the Mongol Rally in 2007. It was a great film, but everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and it reminded us that while all has been plain sailing so far, we have a long way to go and a number of potential disasters await us.

 

Exploring Prague

John Lennon wall

Mongol Rally meet up: the Czech Out party in Prague

We were up early on day four to drive over 1,000km through the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Hungary and into Romania. We left at 6am, and finally stopped driving at 10pm. It was a long day on the road. And yet, both Shane and I were quite content – our only responsibilities were to keep Martha and ourselves safe, fed, and watered, and to keep making progress in an Easterly direction. We began to taste freedom.

Today is day five, and it has been the best day yet. After another early start, we took Martha on her favourite road ever – the twisty, turny, dramatic Transfagarasan Highway. Around 100km of twists and turns, up hill and down hill again. She loved it, although her brakes did get a little hot. We loved it too – we enjoyed the beautiful mountains, forest, rivers and waterfalls, and we met a number of other rally teams at various points along the way (including one Portugese / Irish team who had some serious oil related problems, and a team of Kiwis who had only made it 50km out of Goodwood before breaking down and needing to replace their alternator).

The twisty, turny Transfagarasan Highway

Shane helping to fix another Micra

Georgia exploring the mountains

Martha loving it

We then carried on the road through a busy Bucharest (where I failed to understand the rules of pedestrian corssings) and on to Vama Veche at the edge of Romania where we are currently relaxing by the beach at the final Mongol Rally meet-up. Tomorrow we leave Romania for Bulgaria and, hopefully, Turkey. So far, we are having a great time. Martha is running happily (apart from a small issue with her window getting stuck), our fellow ralliers are friendly and we are making good progress. Most importantly, now that all the jobs are done and we are on the road, we are finally free!

Beach party in Vama Veche, Romania