Switchme Blog

20/08/2010 Day 28

Random Mountain Plateau, Central Mongolia to Northern Gobi Desert, Central Mongolia

Countries: Mongolia

We are in our tents and the sun has yet to come up. We’ve been camped for only about three and a half hours but we’ve all managed to sleep for at least an hour out of that time. We are frozen. We cannot feel our feet and the ground is a block of ice. Knowing that things aren’t going to get any better we all begrudgingly protrude from our holes, pack up our tents and load the car. There isn’t much conversation this morning. We are all exhausted, frozen and anxious to get moving towards Ulaanbaatar knowing that we only have one and a half days left before our self imposed deadline to get Scott to the airport.

The sun begins to rise as we depart camp and it brings new life with it. We make plans to drive for two hours and then stop for some breakfast at the side of the road. Not that we are expecting a café or anything, what we have to look forward to is a can of apricots which we now realize we cannot open because in addition to the sunglasses, tools and head torches that we’re ‘borrowed’ by the mechanics in Khovd we are also missing Scott’s handy Swiss Army knife that had our only can opener attached to it.

Nonetheless we make due with what we have. As we stop for breakfast we make a note that we managed to cover just under 40 miles in the first two hours of driving. We will need to hope for better roads and no breakdowns if we’re going to cover the 300 plus miles we have budgeted for the day! We settle into breakfast as Jason attempts to smash open the can with one of the many available pointy rocks and he manages to impale the tin on the first hit. Next, using the hammer and the pointed end of the tire iron as a chisel Jason and BC wedge off half the lid and peel it back to expose our breakfast of apricots. This is combined with a small ration of water and some small apples we have left over.

Not long on the road following our meal we are hit with another blowout. It is the back left tire once again. We’re not sure what we’re doing to cause the same tire to continuously go out on us, but we’re resigned to fixing it and with the speed that only experience brings we are back on the road in 10 minutes. Our concern now is not the time lost but the fact we only have one spare left and it is far from being adequate. Our final remaining spare is one of the front tires that was taken off the car in Uzbekistan due to the fact the steel belts were already protruding through the rubber. If we are forced to put this tire on the car we can probably only expect a hundred miles before it blows out on it’s own accord. We are going to be forced to stop somewhere and buy another tire.

To our advantage the roads flatten out and despite the waves in the dirt we’re able to make up time by traveling at 80km/h once again over the top of them. We impressed with our pace and starting to think for the first time in days that we could hit our goal head on. The desert plains are super-flat and aside from the fact we are being forced to stop every few hours to ratchet the sump guard back on we’re problem free.

Finally we approach the northern tip of the Gobi Desert from where we’ll head north and east through the mountains and onwards towards Ulaanbaatar. But first we have a small problem in the shape of a large river that seems to be impeding our path.

The river is positioned alongside a small village and we’re thankful that we’ll be crossing it at midday because the locals are all out and willing to help guide us through it. The river itself is fast flowing and approximately 20 meters wide. We get out of the car to test the current and the depth and we’re a bit nervous as the water is more than two and a half feet high at the center. Given our need to reduce the weight of the car and thereby increase the ride height of the car BC and Jason get out and leave Scott to drive through the river solo. At least that is the plan. As soon as the guys get out a large contingent of Mongolian kids jump in through the doors and windows, probably about a dozen of them in total. So much for the weight reduction.

Scott goes for it and the car hits the riverbed with water immediately going over the bonnet and onto the windscreen. The car is moving quite fast, as is the river, and BC and some of the locals are out in the river directing traffic and aiding Scott’s route as Jason stands in the center of the river shooting the footage for posterity. The car makes the halfway point and the water is fully above the fenders of the car but the old Suzuki is still moving at pace. There are Mongolian kids hanging out of every window, reaching down into the water and dragging their hands through the water. The health and safety crowd would be horrified.

Unbelievably the Suzuki emerges onto the banks on the other side of the river merely 10 seconds after it hit the water. It’s still running and for the first time in nearly a month actually appears clean! With our shiny ride in the background we snap some pictures with the local kids and the guy who helped guide us through the river. The kids want us to stay, in fact they want us to do the river crossing again since they’re having so much fun and we’re keen to do it again, but the risks outweigh the benefits and we have to let the kids off with watching us plow back into the desert sands.

It’s not long before we’re stuck again. The 155mm tires on our can do not favour the sand in the desert, but after a bit of pushing we’re free and back on more stable terrain. Shortly onwards we’re approached with a fork in the road and given the fact we have no map and only the knowledge tha the next town is north/north-east of us we’re a bit unsure which path to take. One fork leads due north and appears to snake around the mountains while the other is north-east and continues along the steppe. With little other option we pull a 180 and head back to a convoy of heavy lifting equipment that was headed in the opposite direction and had stopped for lunch. They’re a great group of characters and are able to confirm that we’ve got to take the northern route… good thing we checked!!!

It’s now the middle of the afternoon and we’re getting a bit warm in the car. Because our radiator is more or less held together with epoxy and chewing gum we’ve taken the conservative path and had the heat on full blast all day. It’s been a bit uncomfortable but now that it’s the hottest point in the day in the Gobi Desert we’re really starting to feel it. Even with the window’s down there is nothing but hot air coming into the car. The temperature range in this region can be as much as 40 Celsius per day and we’re seeing the top end of that range at the moment. We can look forward to the zero degrees overnight temps once the sun goes down. Driving in the desert and over dirt roads also has one other clear disadvantage and that is the dust. Everything in the car is coated in a sheet of heavy Mongolian sand. There is no soil here, only dusk sitting lightly on the earth and it is blown up in the air with only the smallest gust of wind and sucked into our car via the vents and the open windows. Our bags have a few millimeters on them permanently and we ourselves are becoming increasingly dusty. We can only imagine how much dust we’ve swallowed from the air and how much is in our lungs.

Thanks to choosing the correct route at the fork in the road we’re well on our way to the town of Bayankhangar which happens to be our next (desperate) stop for fuel and our best chance at finding a replacement for the spare tires we’ve blown over the past two days. Fortunately the front right tire which we repaired with a hammer yesterday is still retaining air and appears to be completely fine!

We hit Bayankhangar and are relieved to find that this town has a thriving petrol station industry. The only problem is that it’s a cash based economy and we are broke. Looks like we’ll be dipping into the reserves once again! We are fortunate enough to follow some signs advertising the local bank right to the bank itself and now that we’re flush with cash it’s time to search for a place to buy spare tires. It takes some effort to communicate what we want. Most people think we only want air in our tires and keep directing us to the wrong place. After some discussion we come up with a charades move for ‘buying a used tire’ and before we have a chance to try it out we find a guy who actually speaks passable English and he directs us to  a small shop near where we came into town.

The tire shop has a wide selection of used tires, unfortunately there are not a lot of cars with puny 155/60/13’s in this part of the world. The closest thing we can find is a tire about 20% too big but at least with the correct rim size. The only issue will be that if we need to replace a tire we’ll be sitting a little higher on one side of the car than the other!

As we’re completing the tire purchase we notice a guy with a welding torch fashioning something together around the side of the building. By this point in our trip we have eagle eyes for these sort of things and we get the tire shop guys to ask him to weld our sump guard back on. We’ve had to ratchet it back onto the car every few hours and it would save us a lot of effort if we could get a quick spot weld. It’s another example of the incredible generosity of the people we’re meeting on this trip and the guy welds our sump guard back on for free. We’re out about 12 bucks for the tire and in the meantime we’ve filled up our gerry cans and now have 60 liters of fuel for the rest of the journey. We’re pretty happy with our little trip to Bayankhang and as we exit the town we ask for some directions for the route to Ulaanbaatar from one of the locals. We are set and on our way… or so we think…

Before setting out for the rest of the night we decide to stop off for some dinner. We’ve got a few hours of light left and we’d like to know we’re on the right track before the sun goes down. Dinner consists of more of the same pasta and tomato paste, but because this is probably going to be our last supper on the road we bust out the rest of the sun dried tomatoes and the can of olives and have ourselves a feast! BC even boils some extra water and makes some pot noodles.

You would think with all this food in our stomachs that we’d be of a clear mind to make some critical decisions, but we are at an impasse on the route from here. The three of us cannot come to any consensus on the correct direction. Shall we follow the river? Or the path into the mountains? We are getting advice from the locals, first two guys on a motorcycle contradict the lady in town, then some more people contradict the advice we got from both the last two groups we spoke to. It is all very confusing. We begin following a large truck after speaking to the driver, but we quickly become skeptical about his route and stop. We head back towards town, on edge for having wasted two hours now. We see a village of yurts and BC gets out to speak to them. They are far more helpful and we learn that we’ve got to head back towards the river and head east from there. The directions seem to be reasonable and they also explain that from here there are several routes to Ulaanbaatar but that the one they have advised us on will be most suitable for our little car. We’re really appreciative of this advice and we believe they clearly know what’s going on and so we take their route and head towards the river.

Before we can access the road we’re forced to pull off another river crossing. This one is quite short but the river is deep and the car before us has water going above the fenders. We are so sick at being stuck in the same five square kilometers for the last two hours that we don’t even bother to get out and help BC navigate. And despite some nerves BC guns it and we get across the river in one go, although the car was really struggling there at the end to make it up the banks! The minor success of this river crossing changes our attitudes and we’re back to normal. Things had been getting a little hairy between us for bit.

We miss the sunset behind us tonight. The two hours we lost were the last of the daylight and we’re well behind schedule. Our usual routine of getting out of the car to watch the sun go down is passed over and we still have no idea if we’re actually going the right way. Futhermore it is now dark and we’re relying only on the compass and our wits to keep going.

Jason is now behind the wheel and the roads are quite good despite the darkness that surrounds us.  We carry on in this fashion carrying speeds of up to 60 km/h until out of nowhere the reads ceases to exist. Fortunately we’re able to slow down as we pass up over and down a large hill, at the bottom of which the trail seems to evaporate. We follow the compass and continue on a random trail through the steppe, but can’t find a single path that leads us in our desired direction. Frustrated, we decide to hit the steppes and let destiny be our guide.

The steppe is actually not a bad place to be driving, it’s flat and the vegetation is so low to the ground you can drive right over it without damaging the car. The problem is our eyes, they begin playing tricks on us. In the distance we can see the headlights and then the taillights of cars heading north-east along what appears to be a major road. We probably have the driving equivalent of an oasis fever. But nonetheless we do see cars driving out there and we decide to head in that direction until Jason stops the car to a halt swearing that there’s a cliff face ahead of us. It appears there is a giant crevasse in the steppe just before us, but not wanting to give up on the road up ahead we drive alongside it for another five minutes before turning towards it again. Once again we stop short of what appears to be a sheer cliff and all three of us sense the disappointment that we may need to find another path and head the wrong direction for hours in order to find our way. Not wanting to believe his eyes Jason decides to get out of the car and have a look and to the surprise of BC and Scott manages to walk right over what we’d all thought was certainly a cliff. It is indeed no more than our eyes playing tricks on us. There is no cliff at all, only a slightly different line of vegetation that when illuminated gave the impression we were teetering over a pit!

Armed with newfound confidence we plow onwards into the steppe and after only a few minutes of driving we can see two headlights off in the distance. With the flat steppe surrounding us we can’t tell if they are one kilometer away or ten, but we are locked in on our target and we’re going to cut them off no matter the challenges.

Jason’s still driving and trying to avoid bushes, potholes and the possibility of a real cliff while BC and Scott are giving him instructions to speed up or to change the heading in order to intercept the car coming up ahead of us.

The gamble pays off and we bounce up and over a hill and directly onto the road only seconds before the vehicle we’ve been chasing down arrives in our cross-hairs! BC and Scott both jump out of the car as Jason hits the horn and the spotties in order to alert the driver of the other car to us. BC gets right out there in front of the other driver and we see him slowing down to stop!

The payoff for taking this crazy route across the steppe is a high one. The driver of the truck knows the next town we’re going to and is headed there himself! It takes a bit of charades to actually figure this out, but once we’re all convinced that the guy is legit we jump back in the car and follow him in his van on a decent looking path. It’s not long before his large vehicle has pulled away from us but he notices we’ve fallen back and stops to allow us to catch up.

We continue to follow the van for more than two more hours, well past midnight and into the next day. Our car is completely covered in the dust being thrown up from the van and by extension we are covered in dust and everything in the car is covered in dust, but we could care less, bring on more dust if it gets us to our destination!

Finally we bid adieu to our guide at the beginning of a paved road leading to the next town. We owe him a lot but accepts only our sincere thanks for getting us out of the Gobi in one piece and still on our tight schedule.

We continue driving through the next town and around 3:30am pull the car to the side of the road and pitch the tents for a couple of hours of freezing cold sleep.

Today’s drive was over 21 hours long, but it’s put us within striking distance of Ulaanbaatar. We might just do this!

19/08/2010 Day 27

West Mongolia Rally Camp, Khovd, Mongolia to Random Mountiain Plateua, Central Mongolia

Countries: Mongolia

Knowing that for the final time before we cross the finish line we are waking up in an actual bed we savour the last few minutes of comfort and thankfully we’re not at the mercy of the wind which has been kept at bay by the yurt we slept in last night at the West Mongolia Rally Camp. The temperatures are still near the freezing point outside and beyond the cover of the bed the yurt is still quite cold. The camp has been set up as a ‘for-profit’ endeavour by some clever Mongols to scoop up the weary rallyers as they pass through the city of Khovd, a city on the southern Mongolian rally route that generally serves as the second night’s stop. Of course we got here on our first night thanks to some nearly non-stop driving, the cost of which appears to be our radiator.

Scott is the first up in the morning and emerges from the yurt to see only two cars at the camp, hence no other teams have shown up other than the Spaniards we led in last night. But wait, there should only be one car there since our car was last seen at the garage getting it’s radiator repaired… Scott does a double take and notices our car is indeed in the parking lot and next to it, sleeping in his own car is our mechanic.

From the yurt BC and Jason hear the familiar noise of our car’s ‘beep beep’ as Scott turns the alarm off and the equally familiar sound of the engine starting up. Over the course of this rally you know begin to recognize the sounds of your car with the same familiarity as the voices of your friends and loved ones, which the car kind of has become.

Having realized the car is fixed before even seeing it Jason and BC also emerge from the yurt and small celebration takes place as we realize our rally is not quite cooked yet! The radiator has a patch job that looks sufficient, but most likely still a temporary solution. We hope it will hold up for the final 1000 miles.

There is no time for showers, but we do take breakfast in the ‘dining yurt’ with the host of the camp. Coffee, fresh bread and plenty of helpful route advice are on the menu and we take double portions of everything.

Armed with some new information on the road qualities, distances and expected travel times between the key cities on the route we feel confident that the Mongolia crossing can still be done in under three days, despite the radiator setback. The final thing to do before leaving the camp is to settle our bills. The cost of the rally camp is straightforward enough and we feel we’ve got a bargain for only $35US for the team.

We prepare to depart after a quick photo with our host and find out that the cost to fix the radiator is $100US, a bit high for the local market, but altogether a bargain for having the guys work through the night. Quickly we depart in convoy with the mechanic to the local petrol station to buy some additional radiator coolant and some supplies for the onward trek.

The paved roads of the city are a luxury but once we leave the city limits it is back to the more familiar grass tracks that have already claimed several of our spare tires. The car is a bit of a garbage heap at the moment. Not having seen any garbage bins anywhere for days and being quite against littering in this unspoiled wilderness we find ourselves in we’re stuck with the fetid stench of carrying around our own trash for another day. Furthermore every time we open the windows the car becomes inundated with mosquitoes and the windscreen and roof of the car are covered with squashed mossies who’ve dared to hang around the car annoying us.

Traveling once again at a mere 15 mph it does not take long for the Spanish team with their oversize studded tires to fly past us. We’re going to have to put in the extra hours in order to keep pace with them and our own ambitious schedule.

Further inhibiting our progress are the pointy rocks and it does not take long before we feel the familiar pulling and sliding that generally indicates a flat tire. This time it is the front right tire that is the culprit. With only one reasonable spare tire we are desperate to preserve what we have and upon further inspection we decide to leave the tire on and repair the rim that is now a bit bent out of shape. Scott gets out the hammer and the tire iron and we go to work knocking the rim, still on the car, back to it’s more appropriate shape. It’s a quick fix but the tire itself appears to be still inflated and once the rim is pounded back to shape the rubbing subsides and after a few minutes of ‘testing’ we’re actually quite happy with the performance of the car. Another crisis averted by our ‘clever mechanical skills’.

Moving once again we are amazed by the endless miles of steppe without a tree in sight. We’re kept company though by the multitude of camels, wolves and eagles that call this desolate place home. The dirt and grass tracks continue to resemble a ‘choose your own adventure’ novel and we can only hope (and rely on the compass) that we are picking the right path.

We enter the Gobi Desert and it’s not long before we find the skull of a camel weathered by the wind and the sun. The bones are placed on the hood of the car and make a suitable mantelpiece for our ride!

The hours continue to pass by and we’re making progress towards our 300 mile goal for the day, however with progress being increasingly slow after nightfall we know for a fact that we will need to stop for dinner soon and then continue driving for at least another six to eight hours. Our meal once again consists of pasta a-la-Scott, although we’re treated to the luxury of some canned sun dried tomatoes alongside our usual ration of linguini noodles and tomato paste.

The sun begins to set and we are treated to a marvelous spectacle of red and purple light on the horizon over the steppe and mountains. The sky here is like nowhere else and the sunsets are always welcomed with the realization of what we’ve accomplished thus far and the knowledge that we still have many challenges to go.

With Jason at the wheel we’re able to get the car up to 80km/h, which is a necessary evil on these bumpy roads. It seems that this speed is the magic number where the ‘rumble strips’ that appear to be waves in the dirt no longer affect the car. The downside is that as we’re coasting over the grooves in the road we sacrifice our ability to make quick maneuvers and the risk of hitting a pothole increase substantially. We are also well aware that something other than our backsides must be taking the brunt of the poor quality roads and we fear that the tires or suspension may be deteriorating at a phenomenal rate.

We’re now well into our 20th hour on the road today when another blowout strikes. It is the back left tire once again and we inspect the damage and find that this one will not be fixed by merely hammering the rim back into place. The tire is cut and shredded, the rim is folded down and there is no salvaging anything from it. We are forced to get another spare from the roof and jack from the boot and make a full replacement. Our supply of spares is quickly diminishing!

With this setback behind us we agree to press on a little further to find a place to rest for the night. On the steppes there is unlimited potential for camping, but nothing is going to be comfortable. The winds are coming from the north and bringing Siberian temperatures with it. We set up camp in the dark of the night guided only by our one remaining torch and the light of the near full moon and the stars.

It seems that our friendly mechanics from the night before have helped themselves to several of our tools, our reserve of head torches and flashlights and Jason’s sunglasses.

Not anticipating a long sleep we’re resigned to sleeping uncomfortably on the rocks, but we’re exhausted enough to make this work once again. Tomorrow will be the 20th of August and we have only one and a half days of driving left to reach Ulaanbaatar if we hope to make it before Scott’s flight.

17/08/2010 Day 23

Russia and Mongolian border crossing

Countries: Russia and Mongolia

With snow on our tents, or rather in the case of Scott, inside the tent, we wake up on a very cold morning on the Russian side of the Russia-Mongolia border. BC is still MIA and Jason has spent the night frozen in his snow covered tent. Scott retreated to the car in the middle of the night and probably was the only one who got a decent sleep.

BC finally arrives, he crashed in the large tent of some of our convoy mates and has had a rough night as well. The three of us are huddled in the car trying to get warm. Everything is soaked. The car leaks and despite some attempts at stemming the flow the seats are wet and the comfort level is reproachable.

Things start moving at the border around 10am and we’re the second car through, but not without incident as more Mongolians try to push in the line, but we hold fast and make it through to the checkpoint. The Russian exit border takes over an hour and a half to process the car’s paperwork and stamp out our passports. The forms that must be filled in have to be done exactly to the border agents specifications, which are random at best, and the forms themselves are vague translations of Russian and don’t really make a lot of sense. Certain parts of the form are meant to be left blank, but it does not explicitly say this and so each time a form is ’spoiled’ it must be started over again, this happened more frequently than we’d like to recall.

After an inspection of the car to ensure we’re not smuggling anything out of Russia we’re on our way. This inspection involves stripping everything out of the car, bags and all, and allowing the Russians to palm over all our stuff, filthy socks and all. After opening up BC’s bag of dirty clothes they seem satisfied, or thouroughly disgusted, and tell us we can leave.

The drive to the Mongolian side of the border is about 40 km and the terrain is amazing. Glacial mountains and rolling steepe as far as the eye can see. Half way between the checkpoints is the official border and it must be above 3000 meters given the amount of climbing we did in our puny Suzuki Alto. A very grumpy Russian soldier controls the gate and after thumbing our passports opens it up to let us through. The remainder of the drive is equally spellbinding until we descend down from the plateau and the Mongolia checkpoint comes into view.

Before we reach the checkpoint itself we’re stopped aside a booth with a wading pool next to it. The place is also full of guys changing money and not knowing the rate of exchange we swap $20 US so that we at least have something. The 12 year old inside the booth is acting very official and demands a dollar from BC in order to drive the car through the ‘disinfection pool’. BC complies and we are ‘allowed’ to drive thorugh the little pool that is probably just muddy water.

The border process for Mongolia is going to be a long one, we already know this. The issue is not the Mongolians (as it was in Russia) but with the importation rules for the car. Since we are donating the car to charity in Ulaanbaatar we must legally import it and ensure the importation duties are paid. This process in general takes quite a bit of time and we’re going to have to be patient. Several other teams have already been here for over 24 hours.

We go through the formalities and after about an hour we (ourselves) are cleared through customs and free to go. The car however must be kept in a paddock until the paperwork is completed. There are already about a dozen cars there, by the end of the day that number will be more like 40.

There is not much to do in this small border town to kill the time and so we make the best of it. We socialize with other teams, we get the rugby ball out for a game, we bring out a cricket bat and a ball and teach the local kids how to play. At one point the ringleader of the Mongol kids takes the ball and takes off over the fence and that’s the end of cricket. The same fate will meet our rugby ball a few hours later.

By 5pm it’s clear we won’t be leaving tonight. Only a few teams departed the entire day and things are not looking like they will be getting any better anytime soon. With this in mind Jason heads out to find accomodation for the night. There is no way we are sleeping in the snow again! Jason manages to find a local house to stay in with a dorm room with 9 beds in a single small room has been set up for the Mongol Rallyers. The price is meant to be only a couple dollars each and includes dinner, which seems like a good deal. Tomorrow we’ll find the price was not all that it seemed, but we’ll get to that later.

We buy a bottle of vodka from the local store and make our rounds through town, visiting the houses of the locals who are billeting the rallyers for a small fee. Everyone is in good spirits still and there’s plenty of laughs (and vodka) to go around.

Back at our ‘house’ dinner is served and consists of some delicious perogy looking things with goat’s meat and chilli sauce. It was nice to have a warm home prepared meal. There are nine of us in the room, our team plus six younger English guys. Everyone gets along great, and we are probably ruining movie night for the local family.

After a few hours we head off to see the Poms team at their ‘mansion’ (the biggest house in town) and they are sound asleep. Never fear, the kitchen in their house has been taken over by the Romanian and Italian teams and we’re keen to have a few drinks with this noisy lot. We polish off our vodka plus another one and we’re all very merry by the time we call it a night around midnight.

The house is heated by a yak manure stove and is nice and warm, and it doesn’t smell fortunately. We fall asleep right away happy to be in a proper bed for the night!

Road to Mongolian border

View of Mongolia from the border

14/08/2010 Day 20

Semey, Kazakhstan to Rubstovsk, Russia

Countries: Kazakhstan and Russia

Due to the late night last night we don’t get started until after 10am. Jason is at the wheel since he stayed in last night (still recovering from the adventures in Almaty) and with only 150km seperating the teams from the Russian frontier it should be a quick drive to the border and hopefully a timely crossing. The only known issue is that today is the 14th and the Russian visas for BC and Scott have a start date of the 15th. We have left our convoy behind, knowing the liklihood is that we’ll not have an easy time at the border and need the head start.

We arrive at the border without incident and rush up to the Kazakhstan border-exit checkpoint. It’s around noon and we’re hopefull that they’ll overlook the visa issue. It turns out we can’t even get out of Kazakhstan since the border guard is signalling to his watch to indicate ‘24 hours’. This is not a positive sign for the team since we’re on a tight schedule. Scott has a flight on the 22nd of August and we need to get into Ulaanbaatar by the night of the 21st to ensure he makes it. This setback is going to hurt us and all the pleading in the world doesn’t help. We are surprised that it was the Kazakh side that rejected the visas since most times the onward visa is not checked by the departing guards, but this time it certainly cost us dearly. We may have been able to work things over with the Russian guards, but as it stands we’ll be spending the rest of the day in Kazakhstan.

One additional complication is going to make our lives difficult. It seems that if you spend more than 5 days in Kazakhstan, even with a visa, you must visit an immigration office and register with them. This is clearly a tedious time consuming task that we’d rather avoid, plus it’s another opportunity for people to fleece money off of us, so we decide to try to cross out of Kazakhstan shortly before midnight to avoid registration. Let’s hope the border guards see things the same way!

We have plenty of time to kill, nearly 10 hours in fact, and so we head back towards Semey. During our drive the previous day the sump guard (a piece of metal we purchased in Samarkand and had welded on there to protect the underside of the engine, oil pan and transmission) has had one of it’s four welds/bolts come loose. We need to get this welded back on in town and since it’s Sunday we’d like to try to get this done right away before the shops close. As we’re driving the guard guard is scraping the ground and causing spark to fly behind us.

We all get out of the car and the idea is to strap on the sump guard using plastic ratchet straps. The metal weighs about 15 kg and it’s asking a lot of the plastic ties, but we rig something up and it seems to be alright.

The car is started and we drive a solid 20 meters before the familiar grinding sound is back, it seems another one of the welds has failed and now both right side mounts are hanging . We rig up the entire right side of the sump guard using plastic ties and having lost even more time, get back in the car and continue towards Semey.

Driving very slowly and continuing to lose time we decide to ramp up the speed and try to make Semey before the shops close. We make it up to 70km/h before the grinding starts again. We assume the plastic straps have snapped under the weight but are suprised and horrified to see that it’s actually another weld that has failed! We now have the sump guard hanging by a single weld and a few plastic straps and it is decided that the only recourse is to take the entire guard off since the risk of it coming off at high speed is too high and far too dangerous. Our tool kit consists of only the most basic tools and with a hammer we attempt to smash the final weld off.

Our first piece of good luck occurs when, as we’re hammering away under the car, we see our convoy mates coming up the road. They stop to help obviously and with a hack saw we finally get the thing off the car. The only place to put it is the roof and so up it goes along with the spare tires, jerry cans, tents and chairs. It’s getting quite crowded up there!

What hurts the most is the time we’ve lost. It is now nearly 5pm and we’re still 72 k’s from town. Given that it’s Sunday it’s going to be touch to find a mechanic or ‘machine shop’ that is still open.

In Semey our assumptions are validated and nothing is open. What is strange is that we find about 100 car washes and given the strange alphabet and language we drive up to most of them hoping they are mechanic shops but each time we’re told it’s only a car wash. We are really snookered now it seems.

As we’re driving around searching for a place that can weld the guard back on we come across a very cool and peculiar park. In this park are all the old soviet busts and statues that were once proudly displayed around the town. Lenin and Marx, once seen as idols here have been relegated to a small park behind some industrial buildings. There are dozens of statues, the most striking is the 30 meter high Stalin statue at the end of the park. We get a few pics and take some solace in the fact our misfortune has lead us to such an interesting place.

We haven’t eaten yet today and decide to have dinner. A spot has been recommended to us and we give it a try. The menu is not typically Kazakh, but then we’re ready for some comfort food at this point. BC and Scott go with the Greek and Jason has some quesadillas. The food is great and they have excellent lattes too. Finally fed we hit up the market across the road for some supplies, mostly cheap vodka.

The idea is to head to the border now and hope that since it’s later in the day that they’ll put us over to the Russian side to be dealt with there. After covering the 150 k’s we’re back in the same place we were this morning, but minus our sump guard and considerably more exhausted. We are in luck this time and we’re processed (after some deliberation) out of Kazakhstan. Our next mission is to try and get through the Russian border quickly and keep moving. But, this is not going to happen.

The Russian border lineup is a shambles. As wide as the grounds permit the cars are spread with the goal of getting to the gate. It is infuriating as everyone jockeys for position and there is no semblance of order at all. Only about a dozen cars per hour are being processed and when the cars are let through the gate it kicks off an almost violent reaction in the back as everyone guns forward to the vacant spaces. We are falling asleep in the lineup but managing to make better process than some of the other teams we’ve caught up to. It seems we picked a good starting point. We are on the far left side of the chaos alongside a wall of lorries and busses that have a lane of their own. The cars that fanned out to the far right, including some other rally cars have not moved in hours.

Finally we approach the gate. We’ve been in line for more than four hours and the stress level has been excruciating. Jason has stayed awake in the passenger seat watching the gate and each time it rises he wakes BC up at the wheel who is shocked into action and pushes the car forward. The cars behind us have sent sentries up to ‘influence’ the procession, clearly knowing that if the cars in front of them move more efficiently through the line that they will also move more quickly. We are at the mercy of our sentries but fortunately we have some pretty ‘influential’ characters behind us and we’re ushered around some cars to the second spot in line.

The gate opens for us and we’re moved forward to a staging area, BC gets out with the car documents and passport and registers us for processing. Another hour passes and we’re moving again, this time we’re all asked to step out of the car, the passports are stamped and since it’s now well after midnight we have no issues with the dates on the visas. It has been an excrusiating day and we are exhausted, but we need to press on.

Feeling reinvigorated BC pushes us onwards into Russia, we drive until 5am when Jason makes the call to stop. We need to sleep and the sun is already on rise over the horizon. The tents turn into saunas once day breaks and at least we can catch a few hours of sleep this way. The road to the right is a farmers field and we set up camp there. The crops have already been harvested and the ground is soft enough. Sleep comes quickly, but so to will the alarm as we have to not only cover the remainder of Russia tomorrow but also find someone to weld our sump guard back on.

13/08/2010 Day 21

Sarkand, Kazakhstan to Semey, Kazakhstan

Countries: Kazakhstan

Waking up early once again we’re off on the road in convoy for what will be a long driving day to Semey which is our final pit stop before crossing into Russia.

During a fairly uneventful morning of driving on what appears to be the moon we discuss the infamous nuclear ‘Polygon’ that is only a few hundred kilometers away. During the cold war the Ruskies were ‘unofficially’ testing nuclear weapons here, this continued until the 80’s when a popular protest finally put an end to it. It is said the ground is still radioactive from the hundreds of bombs tested in the area.

We find a small restaurant alongside what the Kazakhs call a highway and stop in for lunch with our convoy. There are nine of us now and we take up nearly half of the restaurant. Fortunately for us there is a lady inside, another customer, who speaks decent enough English to recommend a few dishes to us and most of us go with the soup. We are starving so anything would taste good but the food is actually not too bad. We sort out the bill and as we’re making our way to the door a massive BOOM is heard. The building even shakes and we walk outside to see a massive plume of smoke rising to our south, where we’ve just driven from. We have no idea what it was but it must have been a massive explosion! Let’s hope it wasn’t an idle nuke…

Not even a kilometer outside the restaurant we encounter what may be the largest pothole we’ve seen thus far. You could have filled it with a refridgerator and of course as the first car in the convoy we manage to drive right into it. Amazingly we come out unscathed, but the car following us, defying logic, doesn’t avoid it and the Micra blows a tire. So, for the next ten minutes our convoy is stalled as we get the tools out to change the tire.

A little further on we stop for petrol and are suprised to see a guy with a shotgun over his shoulder filling up his car. He’s intrigued by our cars and comes over to sign them, still with his shotgun in hand!

We’re back on the road and hit the famed road leading to Semey. We’ve heard from previous rallys about this road, it is by far the worst we’ve seen. It can barely be called a road, it is simply put a minefield of potholes and pointy rocks. The Russians must have been a little off when doing target practice in this area because the road appears to have been shelled. It is not long before we have to stop again for another blowout. Also, our mates in the Micra have roof-rack issues. Their car is a two-door and so there is no mounting point for the rear sections of the rack. They have screwed it into the roof of the car but this solution has not kept up on these bumpy roads and we spend some time helping them with a temporary fix. We take some time to play frizbee and chat with the passing cars.

There are eagles everywhere here with hundreds of them in the sky above us at times, and it’s truly a brilliant sight.

Just before 10pm having driven through the dark for the last few hours we see the city limits of Semey come into view. We have a hotel in mind and now the trick is going to be how to find it. In typical Kazakh fashion there are no street signs again. We ask several people for directions and eventually hit the bridge to the city center and after a few more stops find that we’re quite close to the hotel. A few turns later we find it and are plesantly suprised to see quite a few other Mongol Rally cars in the parking lot. Even more fortunate is the fact they have enough rooms for our entire convoy and the price is incredibly cheap at only 3000 per room (this is about a few dollars). We shower up and head downstairs for dinner. We grab a table along with the other teams and there are about 25 of us sitting at one long table. To the detriment of the atmosphere for the other patrons of the restaurant we’re quite loud and we’re told to shut up qutie a few times!

Tonight is the 21st birthday of Chris, one of the guys in our convoy. With this in mind some of the guys head out to the town for a few drinks to celebrate. Chris is already well into it since during dinner each of the teams present put a shot of vodka in front of him. The group arrives at the club and is told that the entry fee is 1000 per person, which given the fact there are 15 people this is a bit much. So with all the confidence in the world we stage a 15 person walk out, and naturally the reaction of the staff is to let everyone in at half the price with VIP priviledges. Sadly the club only has about 30 other people in it, some dancing in front of a mirror to themselves once again. Bottle of vodka are only 2000 each and are purchased with probably too much regularity. Some of the younger guys can’t handle it and are sick in the club, at the bar, under the tables. It is quite chaotic!

The night out eventually comes to a close as the sun rises and everyone is back at the hotel, but the fun isn’t over as Dom, one of the younger dudes is passed out on the couch in the lobby and soon covered with potted plants. Looks like an early start tomorow is going to be out of the question.

12/08/2010 Day 20

Almaty, Kazakhstan to Sarkand, Kazakhstan

Countries: Kazakhstafdn

We sleep in a bit on this, our 20th day on the road. This is probably due to the night we had previously, but nonetheless the show must go on and we’re out on the road shortly after waking up. The first stop of the day is to the bank and Jason is able to get out some US dollars from the Western Union. Feeling a bit ill today this minor task has taken alot out of Jason and the heat isn’t helping. It’s up to the high 30’s now just past midday.

Our next stop is the grocery store. We’re painfully low on supplies and Scott and BC are put in charge of the shopping, Jason on the other hand is going to find a nice quiet place to sit down and relax. After the grocery shopping comes lunch and some of the world’s worst hamburgers from the knock off McDonald’s we find, and sthen the urge to get on the road. We’re many miles behind the other teams and if we want to join up with our convoy we’re going to have to make up time.

On the way out of Almaty we’re managing quite well with the navigation and surprisingly don’t even make a wrong turn. Jason is still not feeling too well in the rear passenger seat and while driving down the busiest main street in Almaty needs to stick his head out the window and clears a ful lane of traffic with a mighty spew. A minute later all seems fine and a curious Kazakh is checking out our car and smiling at us as round two for Jason approaches and with the friendly Kazakh looking over and wattching his face turn from gregarious curiosity to pure shock Jason thros another spew in the direction of his front tires. Scott and BC are having a right laugh up in the front seats and Jason, not even embarrased about the situation just feels a huge sense of relief that it’s passed.

Outside of town we hit the lakes and decide to stop for a swim. As we’re getting out of the car a local guy comes by and wants money. When we refuse to give him anything he trys to tell us the beach is closed even though e can see only 10 neters away people on the beach and in the water. The guy eventually resolves to the only english words he seems to know and tells BC to &^$(* off and we go swimming. On this hot day the refreshing cold water is a welcome treat but we can’t stay long and we’re back on the road within 20 minutes of getting there.

With Scott at the wheel we manage to put some kilometers behind us before switching drivers over to Jason as dusk approached. We stop on the side of the road about an hour later and get a shot of an amazing sunset over the steppes.

We are driving due north on a long straight road with the steppe to the left and mountains to the right and for hours it feels like we do not see any signs of civilization, let alone any bend in the road. A little after 9pm we finally run into the other Mongol teams who are getting directions at a bus depot. We discuss matters and decide to find a spot to camp for the night. Not far down the road we find a pretty suitable spot and set up tents and have a campfire.

It’s good to be back in convoy, especially given the nature of the drive from here on out. Tomorrow we’re going to try to tick off the rest of Kazakhstan. We’ll need an early start, we’re quickly learning Kazakhstan is huge!

Swimming in kazakhstan

11/08/2010 Day 19

Kazakh Steppes, Kazakhstan to Almaty, Kazakhstan

Countries: Kazakhstan, Krygystan

Having slept in a farmer’s field along the steppes last night we went to bed hoping that a wheat thresher wouldn’t be running over us come morning. Fortunately we were only awaken by a curious local who’d pulled in to probably take a piss in the trees and noticed our car. Nonetheless no issues and the morning sun shining across the steppe and mountains is a camper’s delight.

We hit the road and soon enough we’re toeing the border line with Krygystan. The border on the Kazakh side is 2 meter high razor wire while on the other side of the road, the Krygz side, there is little more than a shoddy fence made of 2×4’s or more often, nothing at all. We can tell who’s trying to keep whom out. The road we’re on criss-crosses back and forth between the two countries and we get out on the Krygyz side to take a photo back into Kazakhstan, but we don’t loiter too long since these border areas are quite highly secured.

After a couple of hours driving we close in on Almaty and the majestic peaks that serve as a backdrop to the city. What we find once we hit the city is that there are no street signs at all. This is a city of 1.3 million people and we are unable to even tell which street we’re going on. We’re on our way through town and asking directions from other motorists but getting conflicting responses until finally a young dude comes up to us and offers to help us out. He jumps in the car and we take him to his house where he runs inside and grabs a map of Almaty for us. He draws out the exact route we are to take and leaves the map with us. Another gem of a person without whom we’d have been lost probably for hours. Oddly the map is aligned with the east of the city at the top, not the north, which causes us some confusion when referencing points with our compass but eventually we figure it out and we’re on our way to the hotel we’d like to check out.

Indeed we find our desired hotel but unfortunately it is already fully booked. This poses a major problem for us since we can’t really navigate a city without street names, even with a map and since everything is written in the cyrillic alphabet we can’t make heads or tales f pronouncing anything either. We deicide to hunt for some internet access and search online . But finding a place with internet is proving very difficult. Eventually we see a large internet cafe that is ultra modern and full of nerds playing shoot-em0up computer games. Jason heads online and finds a Holiday Inn nearby and using google maps we count off the number of streets we need to get to the hotel now confident that we’ll find it. The room rate is over $200S and would normally be way out of our price range but Jason is able to get it on points which is a huge relief given our precarious financial position.

In spite of our efforts to navigate ourselves to the hotel we find that google maps has sent us to the wrong place entirely and that the hotel is well south of the current position. A friendsly Russion is able to point us in the right direction and we’re happy to finally see the Interncontinental Hotel com into view. Jason heads inside to ask for directions to their sister hotel, the HOliday Inn and finds out it’s only two blocks away. It must have been some sight for the concierge to see a guy in a filthy shirt and board shorts walk into the nicest hotel in town without so much as flinching.

We check into our room and of course the room is 2-preson maximum and so we leave Scott in the car and Jason and BC head inside with the bags and head up to the room. Once inside we send for Scott and a couple sleping bags. We have some pretty ambitious plans for the night since we’ve heard a few other teams will be in town, but first we’re al looking forward to our first real shower (with actual water pressure) in nearly a week.

Fresh and clean we head out to the American Grill, the most tacky and touristy place we can find for some hambuirgers and beers. The food is average and the service horrendous, but we’re happy to be able to relax and since it’s only 6pm we still ave time for some sightseeing. We take the cable car up to one of the hills adjoinging the city and we’re a bit disappointed that for about $10US we only go up about 300 meters and that the views are predominatly of the city and not of the mountains to the south and east. WIt’s kind of like a mini theme park has been built up here with a zoo and some broze statues of the Beatles. We do manage to get some decent views and photots of the snow capped 5000+ meter mountains and also somme nice ones of the sunset. In a typically poorly planned Russian format the sun sets directly behind two massive smokestacks on the oputskirts of town.

We head back down to the city and the next stop is the Mad Murphy’s Irish pub, which we’ve heard is a poppular sport for the city’s ex-pats. The beers are a bit expensive but we meet an Aussie dude who’s been living here for 4 years and h knows all the spots to hit up. A couploe mongol teams eventually stop round and we have a solid group for our night out. Our new mate, Big Dave, takes us over to Soho’s bar, which is reputably a good place to go since it’s only 80% prostitues there, whereas other places have considerably higher concentrations of hookers. Soho’s is quite cool dispite the obvious old dues with young chicks all over the place. The house band is quite decent and they even put together a decent rendition of Sweet Child ‘O Mine. With that in mind we leave SOho in favour of a spot literally called Gun’s & Roses and again they’ve got a cover band on stage who are throwing down some Metallica. We opt for the pooltables  and a pretty decent tournament kicks off with everyone pretty competitive.

It’s now getting quite late and it’s time for us to head out to our last spot of the night, a place called Espinoza’s that’s been recommended by Dave. Scott, Jason and our friend Paul from the Poms are in the first taxi with Dave, BC and the rest in the other. Scott and Jason have negotiated a fare of 500 tengue which is about 3 bucks with their gypsy cab and have no issues with the driver who’s happy enough forf the fare. Arriving at the club Jason, Scott and Paul head inside and are told the cover is 1500 tengue each, which is a bit over the top for us and so with a bit of prodding we’re eventually let in for free. Things do not go as smoothly for BC and Dave as their taxi driver initally accept s the 500 tengue rate but then demands double upon arriving at the door. The guys refuse to pay more and get out and a massive argument breaks out eventually resulting in the cops getting involved.  The guys walk away from it in the end and head into the club. BC has no issue getting in but the other guys are all wearing shorts and are not let in due to the dress code. Brish, one of the dudes from the Poms team continues trying to get in for about 2 hours and in the end  decides he’s going to sleep on the counch in the lobby and wait up for us!

Meanwhile in the club Jason and Scott are living the highlife up in the VIP section and cashing in on their celebrity status while it lasts. The hours tick by once again and Paul eventually takes off and doesn’t seem to notice his teammate Brish is waiting for him (asleep) on the couch. We leave shortly after and we’re suprised to see daylight as we get outside. This has been way too big a night already and now we have to sort out a way back to the hotel! We jump into a gypsy cab and arrange for a 500 tengue fare but then we’ve now got Brish with us who’s woken up when he heard us heading for the door. His hotel is at the end of the road and so he jumps in and gets out a minute later. The driver starts to flip out that we need to pay another 500 for Brish and we tell him to get lost, that we’ve already agreed to 500 for the trip to the holiday inn. The driver refuses to budge until he gets paid so we give him 200 for his trouble and get out at which point he gets out of the car and starts threatening us, which we return in stride and things are getting quite loud at this point and we’ve managed to attract the attention of the police again. BC doesn’t have his passport on him and this seems to be the biggest issue and the cop wants us to get in his car but we want none of that and so just start walking. A few blocks later we find another dude willing to give us a lift and he’s a gem who only wants 300, in fact he’s a well dressed guy in a nice car and probably doesn’t need the cash but was probably curious about us, which is fine by us since all we want to do is get a lift back to the hotel to get some sleep.

10/08/2010 Day 18

Uzbek-Kazakh border, Uzbekistan to Kazakh Steppes, Kazakhstan

Countries: Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan

Waking up to the roar of trucks passing by us we poke our heads out of our tents to notice that we are completely blocked in by lorries. It’s just after 6am and as we are packing up our tents we hear the power lines above us arcing loudly. The next thing we see is a bird come crashing odwn from the lines, he’s clearly just been zapped. Strange as it may seem all the other birds jump off the line and start dive bombing their injured mate. One of the lorry drivers walks over to the bird and surpirsingly it’s still alive. After a few minutes he picks it up and tosses it in the air and it flys off, seeminly fine, but probably a bit pissed at his mates for pecking him while he’s down. Another one of hte truck drivers comes over to us and hands us a few tins of beef. A kind gesture we think but we have no intention of eating this mystery meet, well, BC admmits he’d eat it if he were hungry enough.WIth the clock ticking away we’re able to negotiate our way back and out from under all the trucks and pass the checkpoint before the Uzbeki-Kazakh border.

As we cross over the checkpoint we see exactly what we expected from all the Kazakhstan stereotypes we’ve heard. A guy crossing the border on a donkey.

The rules of the Uzbeki exit crossing require us to get out of the car and queue up until 7am when the doors are opened and we are checked out of Uzbekistan before passing into no mans’s land between the two countries. Everyone is jockying for position and generally being a bit annoying trying to jump in front of us in the queue. Finally we get to the front and we’re processed fairly efficiently having filled our forms out in advance.

The next stop is the Kazakh entry border and here we’ve got another long line, more forms to fill out and so on. Scott and Jason sem to have no issues getting across buy for BC, who is the registered owner of the car, things are more difficult. We are all wearing our orange Triviala t-shirts since they are the last remnant we have of clean clothes and we notice that there is a whole team of Latvians on a roadtrip, about a dozen of them, all also wearing orange. This is problematic since they’ve obviously had some iossues exiting the border, perhaps their papers were not in order or something, but anyhow we don’t want to get grouped in with their problems and since we’re all wearing the same colour t-shirt we figure this will be a problem. BC is stuck waiting for all the other orange shirts to get procseed before they finally see him and even then the process is painstakingly protracted. After showing his passport and the car registration documnetes to the officials BC is told he will need to buy special insurance for Kazakhstan. When he gets into the insurance sales office though the lady at the counter cannot speak English and is frustrated by BC’s complete ignorance and sends him on his way. Well played by BC since it is our policy not to spend money getting over the border! BC is taken back inside and after another interrogation and more waiting he is taken AGAIN back to the insurance lady who once again throws him out and tells him to buy insurance on the other side of the border.

In the meantime Scott and Jason are lounging around outside waiting for BC and making friends with the customs officials. By the time BC gets the car over to us we’re so well received that the customs check takes only a minute as we’re already mates with all the agents. The one thing they really want is a souvenir and we try to get Scott to givbe the guy the shirt off his back since we have nothing else but Scott’s not keep for this and so we take off over the border and hope to find a petrol station soon since our gerry-can has only about 5 litres left in it and our tank is down to an eigth again.

About half an hour into Kazakhstan we find a couple petrol stations but none of them will accept our US dollars or take any of our cards. Frustrated we’re forced to pull the rigging down from the roof of the car to uncover the gerry-can and the small ration of fuel left in it.  This should get us about 80 km more and so we’re going to need to try to find a place to grab some cash before then.

We reach the city of Shymkent and find a bank machine but the card fails to work and we are getting a bit nervous. But a kilometer up the road we find another bank’s machine and this one spews out a collection of blue, purple and gold notes and we should have enough cash on us now for the next five days.We take the opportunity to grab some lunch and hit up a Kazakh cafeteria serving weird looking burgers and pizzas but they’re actually quite good (we are startving after all).

We’re back on the road with a lot of ground to cover still if we intend to reach Almaty today, which is still another 500km from here. After a couple hours of driving it seems quite likely that we’re going to have to camp short of Almaty and so we dicide to pick up some firewood. The steppes are famous for the lack of trees and we have to search for a while to find anything even close to suitable. The roofrack is modified to allow for our newfound timber and although some of it flys off randomly it is pretty well secured.

Our next stop is at a roadside fruit stand. We’re hoping to get some peaches but all this  guy seems to have are pears and he lets out a loud, unappologetic far as he gets up to greet us. We buy a large pucket of pears and keep heading east. We’re greeted by our first views of the majestic Tian Shan mountains. Some five to seven thousand meter peaks in the southeast of Kazakhstan. We pull off the road to grab a photo of the car with the steppe and mountains in the background.

We make one final stop before searching for a place to camp and pick up some eggs and bread for tomorrow morning and a couple beers for ourseves for tonight’s campfire. Not far down the road we’re n seach of a campsite prior to the sunset and we find an absolute beauty of one. Alongside a famer’s field with the cover of trees between us and the road and with a backdrop of steepe and mountain behind us we don’t think we could have found a better place to drop our tennts for the night.

As the sun sets the temperature plumets and for the first time in quite a while we’re wearing our jumpers and jeans as we head off to bed.

09/08/2010 Day 17

Samarkand, Uzbekistan to Uzbek-Kazakh border, Uzbekistan

Countries: Uzbekistan

We wake up on the 17th day of our trip in beautiful Samarkand. Today our first task will be to sort out some fuel since the entire country is now in a panic state as all the petrol stations are closed and the nature of our trip and the time pressures kind of dictate that we have access to petrol!

As we’re packing up the car BC notices that his pillow is now soaked in watermelon. The latest victim of Scott’s obsession with keeping on e of central asia’s most popular crops half eaten in the car at all times. Less than impressed BC resigns himself to washing the pillow in the sink and leaving it in the sun to dry.

After we sort out the bill at the hotel we head out to try and sort out the petrol situation. Last night the guy who’d recommended the hotel to us also said he’d be able to supply some fuel if we needed some. We find him outside the mausoleum hanging out in the same place we found him yesterday and he leads BC and Jason off on a mapcap tour of the town searching through the back alleys searching for 20 litres of petrol to get us to the Kazakh border where it won’t be in such short supply. It takes us a couple hours, but thankfully it’s finally sorted. The guy who’s helped us out also tells us that his brother in law is a mechanic and can help us out getting a sump guard for the car. This is to protect the oil pan, transmission and exhaust from the rocks and potholes we’ll be facing through Mongolia.

We pick up Scott and we all head over to the mechanic’s shop. The guys are all running around our car trying to sort out how they’ll install the guard. In fact we don’t even have a guard yet and we’re going to have to purchase some metal from the scrapyard before they can even get started. In the meantime we get them to do an oil change for us as Jason and BC head off to the metal scrapyard.

Finding some 2mm sheet metal shouldn’t be hard in a jungle of rusting metal but we end up spending over an hour wandering through the heat (which is made worse by all the reflective metal). Our new friend is busy negotiating with each and every scraphead dealer on our behalf. Eventually we find the piece we need and naturally it needs to be cut to size. The health and safety people must not come by here much as the guys cut through the thick steel with a circular saw. Satisfied with our purchase we walk it back to the car and onwards to the mechanic’s shop.

As the guys are getting to work on the car we’re having a bit of fun with them and one of the dudes offers Scott this weird sort of Uzbeki chew tobacco and on a dare Scott gives it a try. He doesn’t seem to be enjoying it too much, but in return offers his sunglasses to teh worker to use as safety goggles for the welding since they don’t seem to have any in the shop. Unfortuantely for Scott he’s never going to see those again!

It is going to take 3 hours more for the guys to install the guard and so we jump in a cab and head back towards the Registan to check out some more of the sights and the large open air market. Feeling quite touristy we meet up with the Poms and  continue through the mosques, highlighted by the collection of masoleums built by Tamerlane for his family.

At the market we’re having quite a bit of fun. Everyone is giving away free samples of nuts and we come across a stand that is selling blackberry juice squeezed fresh. Although it’s a bit pricey it is well worth it and we’re definitely in need of the vitamins. Further down the market we see a large crowd gethered around a wagon with a large oak barrel on the back of it and everyone sees to be throwing back beers, including  a group of Uzbeki girls who seem to be chugging their pints. THinking we could go for one we head over and the Poms are first to the front. Next to us a chick is in the process of draning another pint as we have a sip of the Poms drink and notice it’s not actually beer at all but some kind of fermented apple drink. It’s not bad but we’re a bit disappointed it’s not really beer, expsecailly given all the girls throwing them back with such haste!

Checking the clock we notice it’s time to head back to the mechanic’s shop and pick up the car and a short taxi ride later we’re there and the car is all sorted out. Still hanging around and helping out is our new friend who has been absolutely brilliant to us. We follow him back to Tamerlane’s mausoleum so that we can snap a few pictures with him and the car. Once again we’ve been incredibly lucky to meet such a generous person on our travels. Although we assume he probably got a small financial gain for brokering some deals for us we’re impressed by his selfless devotion to helping us out of a jam that could have really delayed our trip.

We’re on the road and it’s already after 5pm, and given that we’re planning on driving all the day to the border we are going to have a lot of driving to do! We’re on target for the bulk of the journey but finding the border crossing is not so easy. There is a special border corssing for non-Uzbek and Kazakh people that we have to use and there are no signs for it at all. We ask some drunken old men on the side of the road who aren’t very helpful. Given that we’re only a few dozen kilometers fom Kazakhstan you’d think people would know the direction of the border! It is now after midnight and we’re all getting a bit cranky from the long day.

Finally we find it and pick out a spot to campl, which is basically just the sidewalk next to the car again. There’s a local kid who wanders up to us and won’t leave us alone. He’s trying to get us to come to his parent’s shop and buy some drinks but we’re really not interested. Given the time and the fact we’ll be up at 6am to hit up the border all we want to do is sleep.