Day Fifty-Two: The Final push

I must apologise for the delay in this final posting. Although it may have had the effect of adding an air of suspense to the final leg of our journey, this was not the sole purpose and if anything makes the task of writing the final post all the more difficult.

I think due to the fact that we knew it was likely to be our last day we delayed leaving our final campsite for quite sometime, playing the 'Nutella vs Generic Chocolate Spread' taste test, and Rocky Rock with a catapult.

When we eventually did pack up and leave we still had some further site seeing to do before we could leave for Ulaanbaatar. We went to see the Mongolian Empire Map, a Phallic Statue (not quite sure of the purpose of this, but people had been putting money into it) and a Turtle Statue that marked one of the four corners of Ghengis Khans City.

After the remainder of our city tour, we rejoined the paved roads and eventually sped off towards Ulaanbaatar after driving the wrong direction for about half an hour, Thanks Kit! :)

The roads were unlike any others we had experienced in Mongolia, and after a few hours we even came across a dual carriage way!

The sun began to set, and just as we were wondering how much further we would have to go, a smattering of light appears in the distance which could only be one thing. Ulaanbaatar. 

We had made it.

It took us a little while to negotiate the bustling city but eventually found the drop off point where we would have to depart with our cars.

Entering Ulaanbaatar after driving nearly the entirety of Mongolia from the West was like entering another country. There were no more Gers, cows wandering into the roads, or swarms of goats crossing our paths, but instead an abundance of Hummers, 4x4s and tall buildings.

We all parked up, found a hotel at the finish line, and celebrated our victorious arrival. The next morning we had to return to clear out our stuff and officially hand over the cars. It was emotional to say goodbye to our little reliable Micra, after we had been through so much, but the money raised from her auction would be going to a good cause, and from the amount of people we had asking us how much she cost after only being there for about 5 minutes I think she will make a handsome sum.

I'm not quite sure what the best way to end this near-eight-week blog is, as somehow just finishing with, "and then we arrived - The End" doesn't quite seem appropriate, so I have decided on a list of Rally Tips which I hope will be sufficient. It will give anyone who might be thinking about doing the rally an idea of what it will be like, and for everyone else it will just sum up some of the discoveries that I have made along the way.

1) Leave enough time. Decide how long you want to take on the rally, and when planning for Mongolia estimate a speed of around 20 miles an hour (I never thought that this could feel fast) until Arvaikheer where you will be on tarmac roads. Leave an extra 5 days for things to go wrong, then another 2 for good luck. Chances are even if your car is fine, you will end up in a convoy with someone who breaks down a lot and unless you fancy parting with the group and going on alone you need to have a flight home that is far enough in the distance.

2) Don't worry about meeting other teams to convoy with. After the first week the reserved British attitude goes out the window and spotting another rallier on the road becomes like finding a long lost relative.

3) Play dumb and poor. Never pay for a bribe. We bartered down a bribe worth a few hundred pounds to three bottles of beer and two packets of cigarettes.

4) Don't bother packing foam tyre filler. Unless you need to use it in Europe or during the last 50km towards Ulaanbaatar it will be utterly useless on the battered bumpy roads.

5) In Siberia, and Mongolia it will be cold. Unless perhaps you complete the rally in the first two weeks of summer, on which I would not comment. But otherwise it will be not just chilly, but freezing cold to the point of snow.

6) If you want to stay in a Ger in Mongolia, your best bet is to camp near one and it is likely you will be invited in. Be prepared to eat goat, very strong hard goat cheese and drink Salty Milky tea.

7) It's almost uncanny how much you can rely on the help of strangers. If you break down, you won't have to wait long for some help, just beware that sometimes you might be expected to pay for it.

8) Never before will pasta have been such an important and staple part of your diet. However, strangely in Russia, Kazakhstan and Mongolia, pasta sauce becomes exceedingly elusive so you may want to stock up before you get there. You can also never have enough water.

9) If you're a girl, consider a SheWee. Seriously. If you're not, just count yourself lucky.

10) Last but not least remember the statistics. Two in Seven will not make it.

Day Forty-Eight to Fifty-One: Statistics confirmed

It felt very cold that night, heightened perhaps by the snowcapped mountains that seemed much closer in the distance than they probably were. We were keen to get up and get going but Doris was having problems again, perhaps caused by the doughnuts the boys carved into the mud the previous night. She kept overheating and leaking coolant so we had to spend a little while sorting her out before we could eventually trundle slowly onwards. We made it about 20 minutes down the road before we had to stop again. It was becoming such a regular occurance that I almost had a breakdown routine. Ask what the problem is, do a bit of filming, make a halfhearted attempt to offer some less than desireable female assistance, read my book, wait for it to be fixed. This particular instance was like any other, except for the fact that George announced the hapenning of a revelation at the end of the usual sequence. Apparently something had been disconnected meaning that the coolant could not travel round efficiently leading the engine to overheat. Could this be the end of problems for Doris?

After an hour or so, we managed to get on the road again and sped off over the sandy terrain. The tracks were pretty good except for the odd large rock that stuck up out of the ground like a razor blade, and it was one of these such rocks that caused our next stop.

Keeping an eye out the back window to observe the fellow convoy members we noticed that everyone had pulled over behind us. We made our way back over just as Matt was running off into the distance and everyone else was huddled around, the one and only Yak. Seconds later Matt came back weilding a large bent up peice of metal and George who had been under the car resurfaced, remarking on the vast quantity of oil spewing out from under the car. It was the sump. The sump guard had been folded in half as if it were made from paper and ripped from the underside of the car. The rock had then continued its damaging rampage and tore out the oil filter in such a place that it would not be possible to smply insert a replacement. In short and to put it politely, it was bad news.

Whilst waiting for the tank to drain and for various other  bits and peices to be removed, we were caught up by two teams that we had met in Istanbul on mopeds and motorbikes. (Team Eskimo Bruders and another team name I've forgotten) They briefly stopped to chat and hear of our woes, and informed us that the Norwegian team in a fire engine that they had been convoying with would soon be catching up with us should we need to get Doris towed, or need assistance in crossing any more rivers. They also invited us to come with them to the Ancient City which was the Capital city in Ghengis Khans time. It would be a small detour but it sounded interesting, although ultimately it would depend on the outcome of Doris.

They soon had to say their goodbyes and continue their journey but we agreed to try and catch them up just after the next town so that we could all camp together. We needed to get Doris to a mechanic if we had any hope of continuing so we hooked her up to the tow rope and took it in turns all the way to Bayankhngoro. The roads were a mixture of sandy muddy tracks and gravely paths over vast stretches of field. Occasionally there was a steep hill or series of bumps which made things a bit hairy but we got her there in the evening in as many peices as she started with.

It took us a little while to locate the mechanics and we ended up phoning the number and waiting for them to come and get us. As soon as we took Doris in the outcome was apparent. The mechanics seemed amused when George produced the sheared off chunk of oil filter, and when we enquired about fixing it, they all shook their heads and drew a single finger across their throats. Doris was dead.

It was getting late so we would have to go back the next morning to clear out all the boys belongings. We found a hotel which the bikers and the team in the fire engine were also staying in and put off the thoughts of leaving Doris behind over a few drinks.

The next morning Matt and George held a little ceremony to say goodbye to their dear car, complete with orange fur mankinis crafted by my fair hand. They pushed in into the rally car graveyard hanger, and whilst they were in there they saw Mad-Labs car, one the guys we had found the day of the fire but had not managed to catch up since. It was pretty ironic really because on the day we met those other two teams, and briefly became a convoy of six, George had said, 'statistically two of us will fail'.

We transferred all of the boys belongings into Kit and Alex's cars and after a morning of filming we eventually got on our way with Matt and George now riding seperately in the spare seats in the other two cars. We should have been able to make it to the next town in the same day as it was only around 200km away, and we had also heard rumours of tarmac apearing at some point before the next town which would make things an awful lot quicker, however we left a little late. The roads were pretty fun and relatively good for compacted sand. There was a tarmac road being built alongside the tracks, but when we managed to sneak onto it and discovered potholes 1ft deep and 4ft wide we deduced this couldn't be the 'good road' everyone spoke of and turned back onto the tracks.

As the sun set we decied to find somewhere to camp and get there early the next day,when disaster struck. In the dusk light, Alex had hit one of those razor rocks just where we had pulled off the road to camp and now the car wouldn't start.

The morning didn't shed any light on the situation so we would have to tow him to the mechanics. As Kits clutch smelt pretty horrendous from his towing the previous days it was up to us. Luckily about 20 minutes into the journey we managed to pull onto a proper tarmac road! It was pretty unbelieveable really considering the roads we have spent the last 10 days getting used to but there were no complaints. After an hour or so we reached the penultimate town before Ulaanbataar, Arvaykheer. We went straight to the mechanics but before we found anyone that could help us, we noticed three more cars that we recognised, one of which was the fire engine belonging to the Norwegian guys we had just seen the previous day. We thought it was a gonner but then noticed a ratchet and spanner set laid open by the bonnet and deduced that they had just stopped off for a fix up rather than a drop off.

When the mechanic arrived and looked at Alex's car it didn't seem to be good news. He poked around under the bonnet for a short while then scurried away with no further explanation. We weren't sure whether he was coming back or not and were just going to try and cme up with an alternative plan when another Mongol rallier appeared, pressed something under the bonned started the car, and it sprung into life! In very crude layman terms, some models of car will disconnect the electrics when it has a major collision so all it needed was this button to be pushed to reset everything again! Although it had started and we were very grateful to this man who strode in from a panda 4x4 and saved us a lot of time and agony, it still didn't sound great and had developed an awful rattle that it didn't have before. So Alex trundled off to the other mechanics across town to sort out the other problems whilst the rest of us wasted the day by browing the black market and buying traditional mongolian dress.

By the time we all re-grouped it was mid afternoon. Alex's car fixed and sounding much better, we were still set on going to the Monastary and Ancient City in Kharkhorin, but we wouldn't catch the bikers or make it there the same day as time was getting on. Rather than spend more money on a dingy hotel we headed to the shops for some supplies with the intention of stocking up, heading out of town and camping near the road ready to head straight to the Ancient City the next day. We had just pulled up to a cashpoint when an American guy called Babs came over to introduce himself. He was volunteering with the peace corps and also knew Andrew who had taken us to the cave paintings. He told us that all the volunteers were having a party tonight and wanted to invite us if we were staying in town for another night. We couldn't say no to this invite and before we knew it we were in an appartment in the middle of Mongolia surrounded by 12 or so English speaking volunteers, eating western food, drinking vodka and playing games with an Absynthe forefit. It was pretty surreal and brilliant but like all good things, came to an end in the early hours of the morning.

Babs was kind enough to let us all sleep in his lounge which is where we all found ourselves this morning, some a little more worse for wear than others.

We did take the detour to the monastary today which was beautiul, but as we didn't leave the town till late we didn't get a chance to see everything we wanted to before sunset so we plan to get up early and see the remainder tomorrow before the final drive.

If I can be presumptous, we've just had our last night of camping in Mongolia; last night in this tent (good thing too as two of the rods have snapped rendering the entrance and porch fairly useless), last night of cold windy eating and sleeping, last night planning what route to take tomorrow, slightly bemused at the necessity to use an actual compass to find the right path, last night trying to find a concealed place to wee in the middle of some of the flattest landscape the world has to offer (though thankfully tonight our current location is a little mountainous and boulderous which offers some options), last night in the same dirty dusty clothes I was in last night, last night on the Mongol Rally as we should reach UB tomorrow.

If statistics are still on our side.

Morale: High
Car: Grumbling a little after her ressurection from the watery grave but still going strong!
Current Thought: I hope they have proper toilets and hot showers in UB
Miles: 8926
Country Count: 15

Days Forty-six and Forty-Seven: Never be complacent

Altai turned out to be quite small but we till managed to waste most of the day there. The Yak needed some mechanical TLC we neded to get a new spare tyre and Kit had to go to the hospital. Eventually we got all our bits and bobs sorted and trundled out of the town. We had only gone for about 20 minutes when Doris yet again decided she'd had enough. A warning light kept popping up on the dashboard and she kept cutting out. None of us wanted to go back to Altai considering how long it had taken us to get there but if we had no choice,we would have to. We also didnt want to push her on too far and end up breaking down halfway between Altai and the next town. It was a tough call, but we decided to push on. She made it a little further before breaking down the next time and as it was now dark we just pushed her off the road and set up camp there.

George and Matt thought that this might be the end but being team unstoppable we kept our spirits up and the next moring we were swapping spares and jump starting her yet again. The next town on the map was Bayankhongor and we should have been able to reach this by the end of the day all going well. It was slow going with the Yak, seemingly reluctant to keep up, with leaks springing out here and there and failing breaks, but we kept moving and mid afternoon reached a lttle town where the locals advised we were only 125 km away.

We just needed to cross a few rivers and if we kept up the same pace, we'd reach the town in a couple of hours. Luckily for us we had been woken up by two canadian guys on the rally diving a Fire Engine earlier that day and they had reachd the river at the same time as us. They were more than happy to tow us over and lthough the river didn't seem incredibly deep there wasn't any point in risking it with help at hand. We covered up the air intake and exhaust to prevent any water getting in and were the first to be towed. We got through without any problems, so the Fire Engine wenback for the others. The Yak was hooked up next and Kit and Alex (whose tow bar had been knocked up inside the bonnet from incoming rocks) drove behind. Everyone made it through the deepest part so we thanked the canadian guys and bid them farewell. We just had to cross two shallow rivers similar to those we had seen a couple of days previously and we'd be on our way.

The first one I hopped out to check the best route and everyone followed us across. The second one looked a little deeper so I suggested getting out again and checking that one but Justin who was driving thought it was obvious and plunged straight in. We were going far too fast and halfway across an enormous wave of water cascaded over the bonnet and the car stopped dead.

Meanwhile one of the local children who had been watching us since we got towed across the first river whizzed across the shallowest part beckoning everyone else to follow him.

We were stranded. The engine wouldn't even tick over. The water came right up to the bottom of the door and some of it began splashing in. I quickly took off my shoes and jumped out to grab the tow rope from the boot. The water was really cold which didn't help but the river wasn't wide so we managed to quickly hook up to Kits car which had safely made it across with the others. It was a struggle to get Michaela out but after some revving and pushing she was at last dragged out to the other side.

It was a sorry sight. Our poor drowned car dripping water from every possible orifice. We really weren't sure what to do. We unpluged the air intake and poked about with a sponge in a vain attempt to soak up some water from there but it didn't make any difference. Our next idea was to get Kit to tow us around whilst we tried to bump start it hopefully forcing the water out of the exhaust but this didn't seem to revive her either.

 I couldn't beleive that after making it so far and being so careful at all pevious crossings we might now have to give up due to one rash decision. I was gutted.

We were just discussing the possibility of the mechanics having a machine that could force the water out of the engine and how we would go about a tow, when some more locals came over and began guesturing at the engine. They pointed to the air filter but we explained we had already taken it out. They seemed pretty persistant so we let them have a look and they mimed unscrewing the spark plugs. We didn't have any other options so we got out our tools, put the kettle on the boil, and began to unscrew. Once they were all out they told us to start the engine and stand back. As soon as the ignition came on a loud gurgling ensued and water shot out of engine like a muddy fountain. Surely this was good news if water was coming out? We continued this for a while then they instructed us to take out the air filter housing to get to the air intake chamber at the bottom of the engine. We managed to get to it and could see that it was full of water. The locals guestures sucking it out through a straw but Matt and George had a better suggestion. They ducked into the van and emerged with the pump from a hand soap bottle which we used to pump out most of the water, the rest had to be removed the old fashioned way. Once that was all dry the locals got the last of the water out of the engine by forcing a rag down each of the cylinders, turning the engine over to pressurise it then quickly pulling the rag out the force out the last of the water. They made a few more suggestions then it was time to put her back together and start her up.

It was very tense. This could be the end of our rally. But it wasn't!

I don't quite know how we managed it, and we definitely wouldn't have without the locals help but it worked! She did sound a bit more rattly and strained than usual but she was running and this was good news. Water and steam poured out of the exhaust for a few minutes, a ridiculous amount infact, and after she had finished excrementing, and we thanked the locals with cheer and vodka, we slowly made our way onwards.

Now that we were not going to make it to the town before night fall and we had an eventful few hours we decided to set up camp nice and early and get to the town first thing the next day.

Day Forty-Five: Roadside Mechanics

The morning arrived and although we had been warned by Doctors that Kits pain would worsen he seemed surprisingly well, if a little hungover and was using his monopod as a crutch.

If Doris the Yak could keep all her wits about her then we would be able to make Altai by the end of the day. The roads were ok in parts and Matt and George would be driving for Kit so we should sail along. Or so we hoped.

Doris however, had other plans and periodically cut out requiring a jump start from another car. Not wanting to shake the injured Kit to peices we took it slowly but we still on track for reaching Altai when disaster struck. It was Doris.

We all rushed over to be told by Matt and George that the leaf spring had snapped. For any car novice like myself, I understand this is the suspension. But in the case of this particular vehicle the snapping of this part mant that there would be nothing holding the wheels in place or keeping them from twisting out from under the car. Bad news. The good news, as we noticed was regularly the case,was that the boys had the necessary spare part. The problem would be fitting it. They said that they had already had the leaf spring on the other side of the car repaired by a mechanic and he had trouble undoing all the bolts with the electronical tools. In the middle of the desert though, you don't really have a choice but to give it a go.

A few minutes later all the boys (except the injured) were under the car wrestling the get the broken part out. We'd not been there more than a quarter of an hour when a few of the locals came over on motorbikesto have a little nosey. These particular Mongolians did not seem to have any mechanical knowledge to impart, they just appeared interested in these ridiculous vehicles littering the flat landscape and soon enough a couple more bikefulls of locals appeared. Eventually after watching us all poke about under the vanand take a few pictures they decided noting seemed to be happening much, and left. How wrong they were though! A couple of hours later and miraculously, yet again the boys managed to fix it! They got the old part out, the new part in and Doris wobbled on.

Now a little behind schedule we motored on, hoping to catch up with the other two teams we had probably frightened off with the fire the night before. The sun was getting low, and Altai was maybe only two hours away when the rumbling of our little Micra seemed more abmormal than usual. We got out to check and discovered a flat tyre. Unfortunately we had already punctured our spare tyre previously so we didn't have anythig else to swap it with. Time to get out the foam tyre filler. After reading the instructions, thoroughly shaking the can and watching in amazement as the tyre actually seemed to be inflating we continued on, as instructed by the can, to seal the puncture. Less than the 12 miles suggested by the can later it was obvious that the tyre had gone flat again. I suspect that Holts designed the filler for cars running on smooth tarmac not juddering along washboard roads and that it probably all spurted out. Determined to still make it to this stupid town before the day was out we resorted to plan B. Getting an innertube into our punctured tyre. This would involve getting the tyre off of the wheel with only two crow bars and limited knowledge. We had seen some of the locals demonstrate this to us prevously when James and Sammy punctured their tyre,by laying the wheel infront of another car and getting someone to drive over the tyre, forcing it off of the wheel. We tried this, but it was pretty unsuccessful, so we resorted to the crowbars and brute force. Amazingly we managed to pop the wheel off and were able to slide in the innertube before stretching the tyre back over the wheel. We pumped it up and voila! New tyre ready to go.

The map showed that the town should be just after ascending into the mountains but the sun was setting and it was getting cold. We pushed on, not wanting the trials of the day to delay us too much and after driving for an hour or so in the dark we finally reached Altai.

I was so pleased to get there especially after hearing how so many people had failed on that stretch of road. This new convoy was unstoppable! We found a dingy little hotel charging a pricey $25 for dusty carpetted rooms with lights that could be turned on by pulling a wire from the ceiling and conecting it to a live wire sticking out of the wall, and went to bed.

Days Forty-Three and Forty-Four: Things really do happen in Threes

After leaving Alex.R behind we all felt a little deflated but our spirits were not to be dampened for too long. The sun was setting casting a violet hue over the sandy plains, and just as we were deciding when we should stop for the night we came across three other rally cars at the side of the road. These belonged to George and Matt (Hit The Road Yak), Kit (Modern Nomads) and a third team who I can't recall the names of as they had to leave extremely early the next morning in order to try to reach UB in time for a flight.

We set up camp next to them with the intention to posibly add to our convoy and travel together the following day, however, the Yak affectionately known as Doris, was having problems.

The next morning we decided to stick around and help the other team get going as we now had no major time constraint. In a nutshell there was a problem with their immobilizer which meant that they couldn't start the car unless they could somehow bypass it. Essentially they would need to hotwire the car. They spent the morning pulling wires out from under the steering wheel, taping things together not really expecting anything to come of it and suspecting that they might have to get a tow back to Khovd. Eventually it was time for the moment of truth and they tried to start the car. It didn't work. Before admitting defeat and calling The Adventurists to arrange a tow they had one last go and discovered  that a connection had come loose next to the battery. Hoping that this might have been part of the problem, they connected it back up and tried again. Miraculously it purred into life!

Our convoy now consisting of 6 people and 4 cars set off towards Altai intending to go via some 15,000 year old cave paintings. I must admit we were expecting the roads to be a lot worse given the warning we had received from the guys at the campsite, but we sensed that perhaps these terrors were still to come. We did come across two rivers that we had to ford, but they were no where near the waist height described previously. In hindsight we suspect that we must have crossed the river further down due to our detour to the cave paintings which may have spared our cars the worst of the roads.

We were told that we needed to head towards a small village and then from there we would be able to hire someone to take us to see the paintings. When we arrived we were lucky enough to stumble across Andrew, an American Peace Corps representative who had been in Mongolia for around 16 months and spoke very good Mongolian. After speaking with him for some time, he told us that the host family he was staying with would be able to take us to the cafe paintings for a fee and that when we returned he would let us stay in his Ger for the night. This seems like a much better option than, either trying to drive there ourselves, or trying to negotiate with another Mongolian without the help of someone who could translate for us.We drove our cars into their little courtyard, seperated from the road by walls made out of mud bricks, and all 8 of us (6 ralliers, Andrew for translating and the driver) piled into the 5 seater 4x4 (two in the front seat and two in the boot!).

The drive was around 45 minutes and getting alternative transport over these horrendous roads really highlighted how unsuitable our little cars are for these sorts of terrain. The cave paintings were not numerous but interesting none-the-less and we spent the rest of the evening discovering them in the dark caves amongst the dusty bird poo.

We got back to the Ger at about 10pm and true to his word Andrew let all 6 of us pile in and sleep on the floor. Due to the incredible hospitality of Andrew and the Mongolian family we took a long time to day our goodbyes and take our photos, and we didn't end up back behind the wheel until about midday. Having not driven very far the previous day we planned to make a good dent in the Kilometers towards Altai but as the nature of the Rally goes, this didn't really happen.

The climate had changed again, the closer we get towards the desert the stronger the sun. Around lunchtime we all started to get very hot and hungry and although we perhaps should have continued, our two new convoy recruits wanted to go back in search of a shop for supplies. Alex, Justin and I carried on in search of the river that the map promised, but after driving for a while hunger took over and we gave up and stopped to wait for the others. A few hours passed and they didn't turn up. We concluded they must have had some sort of problem so we packed up and headed back. We had only driven for about 10 minutes when we saw them immerging through a dust cloud on the horizon. In fact there were 4 cars now driving towards us, and as they pulled up we could see that they have managed to find two other rally cars! Joining us on the road were Mad-Lab and Geekout.

Whilst we had stopped to chat, as is now often the case a few of the boys decided to play Rocky Rock. One of those games that at home you would never think of conjering up, but in the middle of the desert seems to be the best thing since sliced bread. Essentially all you have to do is try to hit a designated rock in the distance with a smaller rock. Time in the desert must be testing our sanity as one thing led to another and Alex thought playing Rocky Rock with a car would be a good idea. Although intended to perhaps just scuff the bumper, it hit the corner of Kit's rear windscreen with a crack and shattered the whole thing. Luckily, Kit had a plastic UV filter covering the whole of the widscreen so all the glass was kept in place but it would still need Duct taping to ensure that the glass wouldn't fly out. After the drama (which some of us found more amusing than others) we continued on.

Even though we hadn't managed to cover much ground due to us all loosing each other at lunchtime, we thought we should probably try to find somewhere to camp within the hour as the sun was setting and we didn't particularly want to drive in the dark. The roads were now not full of potholes, but long wide sandy rumble strips that could only be taken at speed, otherwise the car would shake so much it felt like your very skeleton was being dismantled as well as the car itself.

A few of our newly formed convoy were checking bits and pieces on their cars, so a couple of us headed on in order to find somewhere to camp. The landscape is now flat sandy plains with the occasional shrub, surrounded by grey, and snowcapped mountains in the distance. Although very beautiful, this does not lend itself well to a concealed campsite. This isn't really an issue in Mongolia though as it appears you can camp wherever you wish, so after little while of driving, we just turned off the road and got out the kettle.

Minutes later the rest of the teams began arriving, but it seemed that Kit had had another accident on the way back. He had swerved to avoid a pothole, but the back of his car span out causing the whole road to be covered by a sand screen and him to skid round in a 180 getting gravel in his tyres. Two of his tyres needed changing but other than that things could have gone a lot worse. He arrived back at the campsite in one piece, but a little annoyed and now determined to light a fire.

We all positioned the 6 cars in a large circle and began to set up our stoves and chairs for dinner. Kit proceeded to remove a log from his car and began chopping it into peices with a large axe. At this point a few of us mentioned that things tend to happen in threes and that perhaps he shouldn't be weilding an axe and thrusting it towards his feet with such force but he merely laughed it off. I decided not to watch and busied myself with food for a while, and thankfully when I resurfaced there was a neatly chopped pile of wood in the centre of the circle and no blood or footless toes. I saw Kit trying to light it and offered him some windproof matches that we had obtained from another rally team but he decided petrol would be a quicker option. He retrieved the petrol can and went to open it by the pile of wood but due to the pressure the can was under from the altitude it splurted out all over the floor. Before anyone had a chance to register what had happened, the fumes from the petrol obviously drifted towards the gas stove merrily flaming away on the other side of the circle and instantly set everything ablaze. Kit who had unfortunately spilt some of the petrol on himself as well, and had not managed to jump away quickly enough enertained a small blaze on his leg as he fled from the petrol can. Luckily due to the quick thinking of Alex who grabbed a pillow and smothered the flames, he was not on fire for very long and fire extinguishers swiftly put out the remainder of the fire leaving us all a little shocked surrounded by a fine white powder.

For a few moments we were all a little unsure as to what we should do with ourselves, but after relocating by about 10 meters and ensuring there were no further potential fire hazards it became fairly obvious that Kits burns needed attending to. We had some very well stocked first aid kits and wound dressing knowledge from various members of the group, however there seemed to be some differing opinions on how burns should be attended to. In the end, after a couple of phonecalls to doctors and relatives back home we cooled the wounds with water, drugged him up, gave him plenty of vodka, then disinfected and dressed them just before he went to bed. They were crudely dressed but it would suffice, and ideally we wanted to make it to Altai the next day so that they could be attended to at the hospital.

Major disaster averted.

Day Forty-Two: Ger on the side of caution (yesterdays post)

This may or may not be my last Ger related pun. I make no promises.

So Alex went back to the hospital today to get the Rabies jab, or so we thought, but after him leaving the campsite and not returning after several hours we sensed it might have become more complicated.

He had been accompanied to the hospital by the owner of the campsite where we were staying and a while later the owner returned in a different car without Alex. He basically told us that Alex had been told by the Mongolian doctors that there was no need for the jabbut by his doctors at home he should get one as soon as possiblend another three days later. He was stil at the hospital talking to people and calling home to make the decision.

Over six hours later,the decision was made and we saw the little red Saxo pull into our road. He had decided he definitely wanted to get the jab but the only jab they had available in Khovd was a course of six which apparently was not very effective or up to date. The alternative would be to fly to Ulaanbataar where they had the vaccination and ditch the convoy.

To be safe he decided on the latter,which now means our plentiful convoy of eight has been whittled down to three. Alex took his belongings out of the car, promised to either get a bus back to where we were after his jabs to fnish the adventure, or wait for us in UB and we left.

I think the next few days are going to be tough. If that wasn't enough of a blow, the English team also staying at our campsite who had to get rescued 200 odd km beyond Khovd couldn't have painted a worse picture of the roads to come had they presented us with a picture of The Grand Canyon. Sandy tracks, rivers up to your waist boulders bigger than tyres and a dust screen heavy enough to cover Big Ben are all laying in wait for us.

We have just set off and the road ran out about 10 minutes ago. The car is vibrating so much it sounds like hail on a tin roof. One more hour before the sun sets and we stop for the night, last chance for sweet dreams before the nightmare begins...

Day Forty-One: Ger-ing somewhere?

Eventually the border opened and we got out of Russia. However, getting into Mongolia took a little longer due to importing all the vehicles. We went through customs, passport control, had our vehicles checked then were sent to wait in a compound with the dusty road of Mongolia tauntingly laid out before us behind the gates.

It got to about 6pm and when some of the border guards appeared to be leaving, it became clear that we weren't going anywhere that night. The wind picked up and so the two Ambulances also stuck in no mans land formed a wind shield for our tents. After struggling for a while with our tent, and realising that putting it up in a concrete compound with it trying to take off like a kite wasn't going to be possible we were contemplating sleeping in the car when a face from inside a coach on the opposite side of the compound beconed us over. He didn't speak any English but offered us some Vodka and after a few minutes of us both chatting in our own laguage he made an obvious sleeping mime and pointed to the back of the coach. It was an offer we couldn't refuse.

We followed a few other ralliers to a shop just outside the gate for supplies (which were essentially the locals living rooms stocked with a few biscuits and booze varieties) as it was just our vehicles that had not been processed yet, and when we got back the coach was full of music,drinks and everyone getting warm and swapping stories. After a while a few people sleeping in the tents and Ambulances left and we got to sleep.

Tuesday went by slowly with us finally getting our paperwork back at about 10 and the Alex's bit later (James and Sammy managed to get through last thing the day before so we had to catch them up) but we were finally in Mongolia!

The roads swiftly deteriorated into rocky tracks but the scenery was beautful. We met up with Sammy and James and drove until dusk when we reached an enormous lake and stopped for the night. We were just putting up our tents when we were aware of three shapes making their way over the tall grass towards us. It was a man and two little girls who came from one of the Gers next to the lake. He didnt speak any English but we got out the map and (in true JP style) we mimed our epic journey from London to Ulaanbataar. He guestured to one of the girls and she got what looked like a large white rock out of her pocket and gave it to Alex. He thanked her but clearly not knowing what it was the man took it back and preceeded to break it in to pieces handing one to each of us then began nibbling on his own it.  We all followed and discovered it was a very strong hard cheese not dissimilar to a goaty salty parmesan. He then invited us to see the Ger so we all locked up
our cars and followed him back. The Ger's were amazingly warm and colourful inside with rugs all round the walls and four metal beds round the outside. They were also surprisingly big and full of lots of people! The metal burner in the centre of the room (burning cow dung!) already had a large kettle of tea cooking and the women inside beckoned us all to sit down on the floor round a little table. Seconds later we all had a bowl of milky tea infront of us with a platter of different shaped bready doughy balls a bowl of what looked like home-made butter and some more of the strong goat cheese. We sat and chatted as much as we could through the language barrier assisted by some photos and a few crude drawings and after some time had passed and we made motions to leave and put up our tents we were invited to sleep the night inside.

Yet another night that we wouldn't have to put up our tent, which was fantastic considering that two of the rods had snapped after they got too brittle in the cold the night it tried to take off at the border. Before we slept he took us across to the second Ger to meet what we think was his brother and his wife and children. We had only been seated in the second Ger for about 5 minutes when more tea was placed in bowls in front of us as well as a bowl of some milky substance a bit like soured cream and an enormous plate of pasta sheets and meat served in the middle of the table. We were invited to dive stright in with our hands to which of course we had to oblige. The head of whatever animal we were eating was being picked clean at the table and sporadically our host would reach out and hand each of us an indeterminate chunk of meat which we had to gratefully receive and try not to image which part of the animal it was, although once we were privilaged to find out one of the pieces was ear.

After eating and listening to the brother of our host play a citar like instrument, we returned to the other Ger and went to sleep. In the morning we were supplied with more tea, bread balls, butter and cheese and we then followed our host whilst he went to milk the goats. There was a stone enclosure next to the Ger encompassing about 100 goats and one cow which he climbed into and began to line up the goats to be milked by knocking two pegs in at each end of the enclosure then tieing a rope between them and then pulling eack goat so that its neck was resting on the rope enabling hm to twist another rope round the head to keep them in place. Once we had seen the women milk all the goats, and in Justin and Sammys case, had a go for ourselves, we gave the families the little gifts that we could spare from our cars and got on our way.

The roads went from rocky minefields to sandy skid tracks laced with hidden rocks and unfortunately at some point the roads claimed the Matiz's last spare tyre. We tried patching it up and filling it with foam tyre filler but neither worked so our only hope was to wait for a team that we saw being towed a few km back to roll past in the hope that they might have a ridiculously small Matiz sized spare tyre we could borrow. About half a hour later they were tugged into view but after we explained our plight and checked their tyres we were no better off as the Matiz was having none of it. Our last choice was to try another can of foam tyre filler. This seemed to be holding a little better so slowly we trundled on. Two shallow river crossings, sand up to your ankles and several rocky roads later we were stopped by the flat tyre again. It was clear the puncture was too big for the filler to stay in the tyre and the Matiz was going nowhere. Not able to leave a man behind we agreed to go on to the town find some spare tyres or inner tubes and take them back.

When we arrived in the town we found a Mongol Rally camp straight away and they were able to help us locate a new tyre. A bit of too-ing and fro-ing later Justin and Alex.L went back for the boys nd we were all re-united. Unfortunately for us though, our valiant attempt at a rescue led our tyre to puncture meaning that we would also have to go in search of another spare the next day.

We slept last night again in Ger at the campsite,but this time we each had a bed. The Alex's had to take a trip to the mechanic to get their exhaust welded back on, and their brakes fixed whilst we needed to go in search of new tyres. At this point Sammy and James, having to get to Ulaanbataar on the 7th (in six days) made the difficult decision that they would not be able to wait for us and (with regret I hope) left us at the campsite :( Boo...

After the Saxo had its various repairs and Justin got back with tyres for the Micra we noticed that our new tyre had alredy gone flat. It was taken back in the Saxo but  the time they had gone out,een to the market and gone back,our other tyre was flat! This ridicuous charade of changing tyres lasted all day! We were just sitting at the campsite, chatting to some other ralliers whose car had died, debating whether or not it would be worth staying another night or tryng to get a few more km done before sundown when the dog Alex had been stroking suddenly deced to bite him. Rabid? Probably not but generally this is not good news. It was only a scratch but to be on the safe side we will need to get to the hospital tomorrow so he can get the jab. Another night in Khovd tonight then hopefully we can hit the road afte the jab tomorrow.

We have already been warned about the next 200 odd km by the guys who had to be towed back here, so by the sounds of things we've got an interesting few days ahead of us.