WE MADE IT!

First, just a reminder: If you want to see pictures and videos of our trip or send us a message, this is our Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/GetTrekd

The journey from Ulaanbaatar to Ulan-Ude was just as difficult as the deep sands of Turkmenistan or the car killer potholes of Mongolia. The car was on its last legs, we were struggling to climb the steep hills and oil was burning away far too quickly for our liking. Thankfully we had The Ladateers and The Driving Dutchmen teams with us to give us a push when we needed it most!

We gunned it towards the finish with excitement building in the convoy until the Lada had some unfortunate engine trouble, 70km from the finish line, that required a roadside quick-fix. Once we were back on the road, it was a drive of reflection. All we had seen, done and endured was being played back in our heads. We rolled up to the podium, two very tired trekkers, but nothing could remove the smiles from our face and the feeling of pride overwhelmed us! We had done it! London to Ulan-Ude. 2 months? Heck it genuinely felt like 2 weeks. The rally had given us the best time of our lives and taught us more about ourselves and each other than any other experience. However it didn't teach us one thing about car repairs...

We are so proud of our little Polo that surpassed expectations and carried us across the world! To the wonderful ralliers, travellers and locals we met along the way, thank you for your kindness and your uplifting spirits (vodka). It's easy to pretend everything is fine when you have a convoy that just wants to have a laugh! Seeing all of the people we had traveled with at one point or another at the finish line was a great feeling and the celebrations were mighty! The transition back to reality will be tough but all good things must come to an end.

What a journey! HELL YEAH WE MADE IT!

ULAANBAATAR

The final stretch to Ulaanbaatar was proving difficult for poor Marco as the 800km of towing had taking a toll on the engine which was coughing and spluttering at us. To see the Ulaanbaatar city skyline in the distance was a sign that things were going to be ok. Well, that's what we thought until plooms of white smoke were pouring out of the exhaust when idling and oil had to be refilled every hour. This is a manageable situation in ANY other place but Ulaanbaatar because the city is in a constant stand-still state of traffic jams.

We endured 2 hours of this traffic, choking on our own exhaust fumes, to travel a total of 4km... Several rally teams in the area decided meet up to share rally stories and check out the nightlife by enjoying some cold drinks especially the delicious local punch!

The following day we took a stroll around the city to do some sightseeing. It took all of 30 minutes, which included a family day-out photoshoot. Our main concern was if our car would make it to the Russian border. Once there we could avoid any Mongolian import taxes and easily get towed to Ulan Ude if needed.

With a few tries to start the car and several litres of oil later, Marco was holding on for dear life. 600km left until the finish line. We knew it would be a close call and our car would probably crawl and scrape over the line but we had faith! Two more days little Marco! Two more days...

Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan

Having had a slow morning on tracks and switchbacks, the relatively smooth roads of Kyrgyzstan though littered with potholes for the first 50km were a welcomed break. Having passed a live ammo training session of mortars and artillery guns firing into the hill side, we immediately began climbing back into the mountains though this time on a smoother surface. After multiple switch backs and race down the mountain, with Sheila claiming victory over the Goats Mazda, after a few close calls with the local animals. The drive to Osh was very easy with little drama, as always we arrived and immediately went for food in a restaurant called Last Vegas. It turned out to be a nightclub (sound familiar?), Having decided we would have 1 drink, some food then find a hotel we immediately ordered 3 rounds of 6 pints and 6 large meals, what we thought was chicken but was very debatable. After being told we had to dance we quickly decided to leave and find a comfy bed to regain sleep from our high altitude excursion. What a comfy sleep it was.

Having rested well and eaten a Kyrgyzstan version of an English breakfast we hit the road having failed to hear from Wendy on their whereabouts. It was going to a long day of driving to Bishkek, roughly 12 hours. Whilst paying for our fuel we caught site of a purple Wagon R running a red light. Well that could only be one team! Having caught up, we pulled over to get fuel for them and see the botch job on their axle.  The convoy was reunited again! 

We headed off on what turned out to be a spectacular drive though mountains and long light blue rivers. As always a long drive wouldn't be complete without us being pulled over by the police for not wearing seat belts. We forced our Russian letter into their faces, and managed to get away with a 3 dollar fine per team. Pushing on we headed away from the rivers and back into the mountains to see hundreds of yurts and even more horses, most of which would choose to cross the road directly in front of us, really testing our struggling breaks and tired eyes! The good roads soon became littered with potholes again and our candlestick lights struggled to show anything. With a mountain climb of over an hour we went through a huge tunnel only just big enough for 2 cars to pass let alone a lorry and a car. It did have traffic lights, but apparently red means go in this country. With a dangerous decent littered with lorries and another police stop, this time for not getting back in lane fast enough. The Russian letter came in handy again, saving us from paying anything. Bishkek was a welcomed sight and even more so our beds in the non acconditioned 30 degree room!

The next morning we ran for the Kazakhstan border having picked up Kit from team Wendy who had got his Mongolian visa in Bishkek. It was an eventful border crossing to say the least. Before we even got in the queue of cars we had been pulled over by the police for missing a stop sign, losing us 3 places in the queue. The Russian letter worked a treat. Having made it to the line of cars, a Kazakhstan women cut us up and stole our spot having got distracted by our game of hang man on the roof. The local behind didn't take kindly to this and told her to move, to which she refused. As a result the man stole the keys from the ignition of her car and walked off. Then parked his car in front and let us past. Whilst this was going on, Lav from team Wendy was making a mad dash for a toilet only to not make it and have to wash his soiled shorts in the stagnant lake next to the queue, much to our amusement. With another hour of queuing and a quick stamp in our passport, we were in.

We apologise for the slight back log of blogs, hopefully the wait was worth it!

 Sandy and the team

We have now finished the Mongol rally but this entry will take you through one of the highlights of the trip; The Pamir Highway

We crossed into Tajikistan at around 9pm in a two car convoy with the Goats as Wendy's visa did not permit them entry until the following day. We made it to Deshuambe that evening but struggled to find anywhere to stay. Eventually we found ourselves renting the floor in a locals back room in the depths of a Tajik housing estate. I migrated to the car In a matter of hours. Wendy crossed at midnight and we reconvened in the morning to tackle the M41, the Pamir highway.

With the knowledge of what was to come, we utilised the remaining smooth roads to the full. Inevitably this immediately lead to us explaining how much money we had raised for charity and that we weren't actually going that fast to a local police officer in a feeble attempt to avoid the $30 fine he was imposing. By some miracle we escaped unscathed so set of again with considerably more caution.

It wasn't long before the M41 turned from a road that wouldn't look out of place in the UK to a road that you would avoid in a defender, let alone a 2002 Vauxhall Agila with a new engine and 118 000 miles under the belt. Never the less, on we cracked. The further we went the more remote it got and shortly we found ourselves in the depths of a fierce valley, speeding along the narrow dirt track that ran across shear cliff faces so as to avoid the rocks falling from above, whilst trying desperately not to think about the vertical drop to our right and what lay below.

Shaken but not stirred we decided to pitch camp when the road finally levelled out. Our first afternoon on the Pamir Highway was complete and we now fully understood the origins of its reputation. The road quality the following day matched that of the previous day but fortunately the cliff faces were not nearly as severe. The winding path took us up and up and up until we reached 12 000ft where we crested the peak only to descend all the way back down through 'caution mines' signs, towards the Afghanistan boarder. After afew hairy moments passing lorries far to big for those winding cliff face roads and a couple of new springs for Wendy, we set up camp in what we concluded, must actually have been a camp site.

Day 3 was more of the same but at around lunchtime we rounded a corner to a couple of children playing on a perfectly flat football pitch with the most stunning backdrop. Naturally we pulled over and joined in, next thing we knew we were playing a full blown 9 aside match against the locals. It was roasting hot and we were extremely unfit but somehow managed to go 1-0 up. The low standard quickly deteriorated further and the game began to see little play outside our own half. We concluded that the altitude was to blame for the following two goals that we conceded. A hasty congratulations to our opponents on their victory and a quick team photo then we quickly got back on the road before the whole town swarmed our cars.

Later that day we arrived at a town called Khorugh. It was here that we had been told the roads really deteriorated so we had a night in a hostel before getting up at 6 to tackle what was to come. The roads were surprisingly ok for the first couple of hours, they tended to be made from warped tarmac rather than the bouldery gravel tracks we had grown used to. As expected the tarmac got worse until we found ourselves avoiding large pot holes in the road that now resembled a rough sea. And sure enough, around mid day we suddenly developed a gushing leak from below the car. Upon closer inspection, a radiator coolant hose had burst which was reliving in the grand scheme of things. It took us an hour and a half to take the car apart and fix the hose before we were back on the road. Wendy had more difficulty with the road and managed to shear a trailing arm forcing them to limp the remaining 80km to the nearest town, car held together with a single ratchet strap.

A small lack of judgment left us pitching a tent at the highest altitude we had been all trip, in the dark and the freezing cold - exactly what we had been told not to do. At over 14000ft we hurried to apply every possible layer of clothing we owned before pilling into the goats tent for the worst night sleep any of us had had yet. I say sleep, I think we managed about three hours between the six of us. Changing position left you breathless and the five layers of clothing were not nearly sufficient. Finally the sun rose and we were allowed to set off on our final day of Tajikistan and the Pamir Highway. We completed the final stretch of stunning views and dreadful roads by late lunchtime and joined the queue for the boarder into Krygstan.