Tuk to the Road

Mrs Jo!

2007-08-29T19:10:00.000-07:00

Apologies that blogs have been lacking from me, but I have been off in India getting married. My new surname is Natarajan, but I have no idea when I will make the effort to get all my details changed.

So, life in the Ting Tong camp is all quite exciting at the mo. We have had some great press coverage recently, including Richard and Judy, which made me extremely hyper. We will be in The Daily Express on Thursday 30th August and our book is reviewed in this month's Cosmopolitan.

If people are free, then get your butts down to our book launch in Norfolk/London and/or our signing in Stanfords. Not only will Ants and I be there, but more importantly Tingers will be showing off her polished pink paintwork.

We will also be revealing some VERY exciting news at our launches, which you will be the first to hear if you are there. Ants squeeled so much when she found out the news, that she gave herself a sore throat.

Finally, before I pootle off to bed at the ungodly hour of 3.15 am, I would like to say a really big thanks to all at the Friday Project and Jenny at Happy PR, who have all been absolute legends.

Bon Nuit.
Jo
xo

TUK TO THE BUK - LAUNCH PARTIES

2007-08-24T03:49:00.000-07:00

Norfolk, UK

A quick update to let you all know about our fast approaching launch parties for Tuk Tuk to the Road. It would be lovely to see you there and please feel free to bring friends, family or better halves. There’ll be drinks, Ting Tong and signed copies. What more could you want?

We kick off in Norfolk on Saturday 1 September at Big Blue Sky in Wells-next-the-sea. Please see the below invitation for details on timings etc. For information on how to get there please see www.bigbluesky.uk.com.

Round two takes place on Tuesday 4 September at The Truman Brewery in Brick Lane, East London. Again, please see the above invitation for more details and www.trumanbrewery.com for location information.

And in case you haven’t quite had enough of us we’ll be at Stanfords in Covent Garden at lunchtime on 4 September signing copies.

Spread the tukking word and we look forward to seeing you for a launch party knees-up.

Happy Bank Holiday everyone!

XX Jo, Ants and Ting Tong

Jo is married!

2007-08-17T02:13:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

Very exciting news: Jo got married this morning! She flew out to India a few days ago and married Raja in a simple ceremony at 10.30 a.m. today, with her father Bob representing friends & family. They'll have a proper Indian wedding later in the year...

Congratulations Ferret, I'm thinking of you and can't believe that the naughty little ferret I met when we were 12 is now a Mrs. How time flies.

XXX

Guardian unlimited

2007-08-16T03:47:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

Hi all

Have a look at The Guardan website today for top tips on overland travel.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2007/aug/15/top10.roadtrips

Enjoy!

xx Ants

Vladivostok or Bust

2007-08-14T14:02:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

In a few weeks a whole year will have gone by since Jo and I drove into Brighton and finished the greatest adventure of our lives. And boy have I got a bad case of itchy feet again. I seem to have an inability to stay in the same place for more than about 6 months, which is how long I have been in Bristol, and every night I lie awake thinking of the next big adventure. What can it be? Where can I go? How can I get paid for going to some far-flung corner of the planet?

Jo and I long ago came to the conclusion that extremely long journeys in odd modes of transport was really quite fun, so my nightime musings generally focus on these two points: an obscure destination plus an odd vehicle. My current favourite is Vladivostok in a Robin reliant. You can get them for as little as £50 on ebay and if I set off early next summer I reckon it would take about three months. it might sound like a bit of a daft idea but I think it would be a laugh and I am going to ponder the matter some more.

As for tuk to the book - all is looking rather exciting at the moment. Our publishers www.thefridayproject.co.uk tell us that advance sales have been really good. We were in The Times travel section last w/e as pick of the week, and are Cosmopolitan magazine's 'Book of the month' this issue (page 222) which I am sure will give our sales a boost. Launch party details are still being finalised but it's looking like the London event is going to be on 5 September at the Truman Brewery, and the Norfolk event at The Big Blue Sky in Wells-next-the-sea on 1 Sept. Details to follow...

Now back to Richard & Judy. What a classic experience. Jo managed to flash her very sexy sports bra at Richard, we met Adam Hart-Davis and Helena Frith-Powell, talked about botox and boob jobs in the hair and make-up....and filched a bottle of bubbly...which we drank in one swift gulp when Jo came to visit me in Brizzle last week. The best bit however, is that we got some donations after the show. Keep 'em coming in guys, we've STILL got another £10,000 to go.

I'm disappointed that google maps seems confused by my Bristol to Vladivostok query. Anyone know how many miles it might be?

XX Ants

Richard & Judy - photographic evidence

2007-08-09T02:19:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

Just to prove we really did meet R&J...get an eyeful of this.

More soon xx

Richard & Judy here we come

2007-08-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

An uber quick blog from Tukland to say that tomorrow afternoon Jo, myself and Ting Tong are going to be making an appearance on Richard & Judy. I'm sure someone at our publishers www.thefridayproject.co.uk must have slipped them a tenner somewhere along the line...

Jo has had a crush on Richard since she was in her pram, Ting Tong is beside herself with excitement and polishing her chrome as we speak and I'm just wondering what on earth to wear. I always was one to get my priorities right.

So if you have nothing better to do at five p.m. tomorrow then tune into Channel 4 and get a load of the tukkers on THAT sofa.

Kisskiss

Ants

Time flies

2007-07-24T09:16:00.000-07:00

I can’t believe this time one year ago we were on the road. The last year has whizzed by and I still don’t feel like I have had the chance to process our adventures fully.
Life has been super busy ever since getting back and I get my end of year results for medical school in the next couple of days. If I pass then I go onto the five year medical course and if I fail………serving burgers in McDonalds!
What is really exciting at the moment is that our book is coming out soon, August 3rd. Some people have already received advance copies and the feedback so far has been overwhelmingly positive. Hopefully if the book sells well then we will hit our target of raising £50,000 for Mind.
Ting Tong has now got her UK number plate and she is happily whizzing around the south of England. A couple of weeks ago she attended her first wedding (in Devon) and on the way home she stopped off to visit Stone Henge. It rained for most of the journey, but amazingly there were no spark plug issues. Having said that, on the morning of the wedding we had to get a pull start around Torquay station and so she did misbehave a little.
I am feeling like I am not firing on all cylinders at the moment. I think it is a combination of tiredness, anticlimax (exams), bad weather, missing my fiancé etc… I am sure I will perk up soon.
Keep a look out for our book, Tuk tuk to the road, and buy it for all your friends and family.

P.S. I have just found out that I have passed all of my summer exams, which is a big relief.

2007-07-09T09:07:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

Apologies yet again for being so remiss about updating this....

I was reading my diary last night and realised with a pang of nostalgia that today last year Jo and I were crossing the border between China and Kazakhstan. At this very moment we were probably tukking into Almaty, after 14 hrs on the road, tired and grubby. It seems like a world away and a lifetime ago - and oh how I miss it.

The good news however is that Tuk Tuk to the Road , the book about our travels, is due out on 3 August. We got our sneak preview copies a few days ago and it looks great, amazing to think we actually did it and are now published authors. If you google the title you'll see you can order it on Amazon and via Waterstones, WH Smith et al. We'll keep you updated over the next few weeks as to publicity coming up - Radio 4's Excess Baggage programme are interviewing us on 27 July, plus there's going to be articles in Cosmo, Woman's Own and a few other things.

The documentary is also still in the pipeline and is currently being pitched to a number of channels.

As usual there seems to be too much to do and too little time so it's short and sweet today. I'm off to the Exit Festival in Serbia for a week on Wednesday www.exitfest.org. Looking forward most of all to The Prodigy and Pendulum, plus the usual festival silliness.

More soon

XX Ants

We're still here!

2007-06-01T09:16:00.000-07:00

Bristol, UK

Hi one and all,

Yes, I know I know, it's been an absolute age since we last posted anything. Jo and I have been so busy with extra-tukular activities that our blogging skills have somewhat fallen by the wayside.

Since I am about to dash off to Edinburgh for a Hen w/e today's post will have to be short and sharp. The headline news is that our book will be published on July 20 by www.thefridayproject.co.uk. You can already pre-order it at our website www.tuktotheroad.co.uk, or at Amazon, WH Smith or Waterstones online. Very, very exciting. We will keep you all posted about launch parties, press, PR etc.

Other news is that Jo has just completed her first year of medical school at Kings in London, well done ferret.

On a less celebratory note, some bastards broke into my house in Bristol two days ago and stole, amongst other things, my tukking laptop - with all the photos on it from our trip. Devastated is not the word. The policeman telling me that the going rate for laptops is £50 didn't really help things.

Right, got to dash but there is much more to tell than this so Jo or I will endeavour to keep you updated about the book in the coming weeks.

XX Ants

Oh What a Year!

2006-12-28T07:24:00.000-08:00

Norfolk, UK

2006 is nearly at an end so I feel the urge to write a final blog for the year, a year when so much has happened. It is odd to think that this time last year Ting Tong wasn’t even a glint in her Daddy’s eye and Jo and I had only just committed to doing our trip. Now twelve months on we have raised £36,000 for Mind, completed the longest ever journey by auto rickshaw, spoken at the Royal Geographical Society and are having a book published about our three-wheeled adventures. Hopefully in 2007 we will reach our £50,000 target and the book will be followed by a documentary.

We’ve been quite slack about our blogging recently – Jo has been horrendously busy getting through her first term of medical school and we’ve both been working hard at raising more money, getting the publishing deal and preparing our talk at the RGS. We’re really excited about getting the book published, and thrilled to be working with www.the fridayproject.co.uk. Only set up a year ago, they have already published around 30 books including the best seller Blood, Sweat and Tea. Having never had a book published before its fascinating to see how the whole process works. Even though we won’t be handing in our final manuscript to the publishers until January 30 and it won’t be on the shelves until the summer, Tuk Tuk to the Road will shortly be on Amazon and in the next few weeks Waterstones et al will all be placing their orders. It just shows the power of marketing – the bookstores are going to be buying (hopefully) our book on the power of its front cover, some AI (advance information) and some marketing spiel. They have no idea whether what is inside the book will be any good…..

Now back to the RGS talk. Its funny how sometimes you can get your knickers in a real twist about one particular thing, your mind transforming it into a vile ogre. Well that is what I did with the talk. I’m not joking when I say that when we were driving through Russia I used to worry far more about standing up on that stage than Ting Tong breaking down or getting jumped by the local mafia. When we got back to England I seriously considered cancelling it, so terrifying was the prospect of speaking in front of so many people. So it was a great relief when on the night I neither fainted nor broke out into a cold sweat, but remained surprisingly calm. About 300 people came to the talk and it was actually very enjoyable, and a great honour to stand on that hallowed stage and speak where the likes of William Dalrymple, Pen Haddow, Sir Ranulph Feinnes and Benedict Allen have gone before. Even better was the feedback we had. Toby, their technical expert, said it was ‘the most amusing talk he had heard at the RGS all year’ and some Fellows of the RGS who were there said it was ‘as good, if not better’ than most of the talks they see. So that was really nice to hear and has given Jo and I the impetus to do more public speaking. Not only will it enable us to get to our £50,000 target but its also a great tool for raising publicity for the upcoming book.

So with that out of the way Jo and I are now working hard on the book, putting the finishing touches to it before D Day on January 30. We’ve got to edit this blog, write introductions, choose maps and photos, write an epilogue….the next month is going to be very busy. I was thinking of going to India for the month to sit by a beach and write, but have decided against it for various reasons so am going to go into hibernation in Norfolk instead.

As a non Tuk to the Road aside, I’ve just spent Christmas in Florence with my father and sister. What an incredibly beautiful city, so full of treasures. In one church alone we saw Donatello’s, paintings by Ucello, frescoes by Giotto and the tombs of Michelangelo, Galileo and Rossini. If you are into art and culture in any way then I urge you to go.

In two days we will say goodbye to another year and herald in 2007. I wonder what the next twelve months will have in store for Jo, Ting Tong and I. They’ll have to be pretty good to live up to the last 12 months in any way, which has been quite a trip, in more ways than once. I feel so lucky to have been given the opportunity to do this trip, to have seen all the places we saw, met all the people we met. There are so many people I would like to thank but for now I’ll leave it at saying a very special thank you to Bob, without whose support none of this would have ever happened. Thank you Bob and a very Happy 2007 to you. Xx Ants

Trisha (22nd November, 10.30am)

2006-11-21T15:08:00.000-08:00

Brighton

Tomorrow morning I will be studying calculus in triple maths. However, you can also find me on your TV screen at 10.30am on Channel 5. I made an appearance on Trisha a few weeks back as an active audience member talking about self-harm and depression.

My wonderful mum will be recording it for me and I will watch it at a later date with my hands over my face groaning about how I really don't like the sound of my voice.

I will write a longer blog soon, but right now I have to play with my ferrets and write up my physics practical.

Jo

xo

Tuk to the Royal Geographical Society, December 12

2006-11-20T08:19:00.000-08:00

Kelling, Norfolk

Just a quickie to remind you all to come along to the Royal Geographical Society on Tuesday to hear Jo and I talk about our tukking adventures. The talk starts at 7.30 pm, will last about an hour and has slides and a short film. If you can't wait to see the film, or can't make it on the night then here it is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCR_PEE14m8

If you would like a ticket for the talk then either call me (Ants) on 07966 911 917 or email us through our website www.tuktotheroad.co.uk.

The RGS is situated at 1 Kensington Gore, near High Street Kensington and South Kensington tubes.

Looking forward to seeing you all there!

Love

Ants xx

That triumphant feeling!!

2006-11-09T06:06:00.000-08:00

Kelling, Norfolk, UK

With Trisha at the Cosmo FFF awards

A quick update from Tukland.

On Tuesday night we won Cosmopolitan’s ‘Fun, Fearless, Female’ Award, something Mind nominated us for as we sped across the Gobi Desert. We never thought for a second we would win and be walking down a pink runway clutching a large silver statue. Thanks to Mind for nominating us, to Trisha Goddard for presenting us with the award, and to the team at Cosmo for putting on such a star spangled event. And also to all those handsome barmen who gave us a few too many Mojitos. For more about the event and the award take a look at this month’s Cosmopolitan magazine.

The other big excitement is that we have got ourselves a publishing deal with the fantastic Friday Project (www.thefridayproject.co.uk) who specialise in publishing blogs. Set up last year, they have already produced 28 books including the bestselling Blood Sweat and Tea. Tuk to the Road will be available in your nearest bookshop next June.

Finally, December 12 is fast approaching so roll up, roll up for your RGS tickets. We’re delighted to have the event sponsored by www.thelmaandlouise.com, a new internet venture aimed at female independent travelers. Tickets are selling fast so get in there quick. If you would like a ticket then please make a cheque for £10 out to Tuk to the Road and send it to: Tommy’s Cottage, Hall Yard, Kelling, Norfolk NR25 7EW. Please tell all your friends about it and bring them along too.

That's all for now. Hope to see you on 12 Dec xx

Fun, Fearless Females

2006-11-08T10:39:00.000-08:00

11th November, Brighton

We did it! On tuesday night Ants and I won the Cosmo Fun, Fearless, Female award in the Friend/Family category. It was an amazing night, although I can't remember every detail- more of that later....

While we were tukking across China we received an email from Mind telling us that they had nominated us for the above award. That was nearly four months ago and we honestly never thought that we could actually win. The award ceremony was held at the Bloomsbury Ballroom, a snazzy venue in central London.

It was the first time that I had worn make up in a long time and Ants had to doctor my overly decorated eyes. Basically, when I can't get my eyeliner equal on both eyes I just add more and more until I feel that equilibrium has been reached. The result was that I looked like the Snow Queen from Narnia.

At 6pm we left our uber-modern hotel room at the very trendy St Martin Lane hotel and were chauffered to the event. Neither of us had eaten much during the day and free alcohol awaited for the next five and a half hours. This is not good news for someone like me who is a non-drinker.

Ants and I had to walk across the pink carpet to get to the drinks reception and this involved passing a wall of Snapparazzi. We tried to scuttle past but were asked to pose for photos- they were most probably wondering who these two random ferrets were.

There were some really inspirational women at the event, including Dame Kelly Holmes, Trisha, the Badger and many many more.... When we received the award I said a few words, but honestly cannot remember if any of what I had said made sense. I blame the bubbles in the champagne.

Ants and I tossed to see who got the award first- I correctly guessed tails and so this very heavy silver statue is now proudly displayed on my mantlepiece. TT will be very jealous and might try and glue it to her dashboard, but after Barry the Buddha jumped ship in the Ukraine I won't risk it.

Thanks to Mind for nominating us, Cosmo for such a wicked night, Trisha for presenting our award and most importantly, Ants, my best, fun and fearless friend. Right, now I am off to nurse my small collection of injuries from the party- one grazed knee, one grazed elbow and two blisters on both of my little toes.

Latest tukking news and schnews

2006-10-18T06:45:00.000-07:00

Kelling, Norfolk, UK

Apologies for the dearth of blogs recently, life seems to be flying by at an alarming rate as usual. I realised yesterday that we have now been back in Blighty for over 6 weeks, how extraordinary. One minute we were in China, the next Brighton, the next its all relegated to the catacombs of our memory. The trip is still all anyone talks about when they meet me though – I wonder how long will that last. Will Jo and I now forever be known as ‘the tuk tuk girls’ I wonder?

As you probably gathered from my earlier blogs, getting back from tukking was a very odd experience. For about a month afterwards I didn’t feel normal at all. It should have been such a high, and in the immediate aftermath it was, but the weeks that followed were a struggle. I was plagued by worries about what to do next, about my crumbling relationship with my boyfriend, about where to live….I just couldn’t get my head round anything. I knew that what we had done was amazing, the adventure of a lifetime, that we were so incredibly lucky to have done it, but however much I reminded myself of this I still couldn’t clear the darkness from my mind. Then suddenly the clouds lifted, the confusion and worry evaporated, and now 6 weeks on I feel back on an even keel.

I think it will take a very long time for what we have done to sink in. People often ask me whether I think the trip has changed me. The answer is not really, but perhaps in subtle ways it has. We were helped by so many strangers along the way; people we had never met and will never meet again gave up their time to help us. Jo and I were constantly touched and humbled by this and I know that since we got back I’ve been more inclined to randomly help strangers. I hope I continue to do so and never forget all the help we had.

Its been a bit of a mad few weeks media wise. My last blog wrote about the News and Screws splash and since then Jo’s been in great demand. She was on This Morning the week before last where we brilliantly talked about self-harm, and will be on Trisha this Friday.

The next two big dates in the tukking calendar are Cosmopolitan magazine’s inaugural awards on November 7 and our talk at The Royal Geographical Society on December 12.
We’ve somehow managed to make it down to the last two of Cosmo’s ‘Fun, Fearless Female’ award, thanks to being unwittingly nominated by Mind when we were somewhere in China. So on November 7 the three of us have got to get our party dresses on and tuk off to a glitzy awards ceremony in the Bloomsbury Ballrooms. Fingers crossed we get the nod as it would be a great boost for our fundraising efforts.

Next it’s the RGS talk. We’re currently looking for a sponsor for the event (if anyone has any bright ideas then please let us know) and getting in a bit of public speaking training. Its open to anyone and should be a fun night, with a bar before and after. Please tell all your friends. For tickets please send a cheque for £10 made out to Tuk to the Road, plus an SAE to: Tommy’s Cottage, Hall Yard, Kelling, Norfolk NR25 7EW.

Finally, we’re slowly creeping towards our £50,000 target. The total at the moment is £30,015…and counting. It may take us a while but we will get there in the end. If Richard Hammond can raise over £250,000 for Yorkshire Air Ambulance in a nanosecond then surely we can make it to £50,000 before we go grey

That’s about it for now. Hopefully I’ll have exciting things to report soon concerning the book deal…watch this space.

Xxx Ants

The most wanted woman in Brighton

2006-10-04T04:31:00.000-07:00

Kelling, Norfolk, UK

The media is a funny beast. When Jo and I got back from our trip we approached every TV programme, paper and magazine we thought might be interested in our story. The majority turned round and said, in the generically camp voice of the media, 'Sorry, its not our thing'. A month later Jo does an interview with Barcroft Media, an agency who sell features to New, Closer, Reveal et al. Little did she know what would come next.

On Sunday morning Jo rushed in to my room to wake me up, brandishing a copy of everyone's favourite red top, the News and Screws. There on the centre pages were Jo and Ting Tong and the revoltingly sensationalist headline 'I slashed myself a thousand times to make myself feel better'.

The next day Jo was bombared with calls from the same TV programmes and magazines that had say nay a few weeks ago, when the only story was our tukathon. So now Jo is in the process of signing exclusive contracts involving substantial donations to Mind, which is wonderful, and tomorrow morning will be sharing the sofa with Fearne and Phil on This Morning.

So everybody tune in to ITV in the morning to see our very own Jo.

Apart from that, things are hotting up in the getting a book published stakes. We've now got interest from several companies. And I'm beginning to get my head straight and get out there and try to find a job. I still miss the excitement and noise of the road, but who wouldn't.

Don't forget to watch This Morning tomorrow.

More news and schnews soon xx Ants

The real Antonia

2006-10-01T03:45:00.000-07:00

Brighton, 01/10/06

You thought you knew who Antonia was, but the News of the World today have revealed her true identity. If you want to glimpse Ants then please visit the link below and scroll down!

http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/story_pages/news/news5.shtml

Reflections on being back

2006-09-22T09:13:00.000-07:00

Norfolk

I just had to write this for www.gapyear.com so I thought I'd wack it on the blog too.... Ants

Coming home....

It seems like only yesterday that I was driving through Russia, wondering what life was going to be like once Jo and I had completed our mission of driving a tuk tuk all the way from Bangkok to Brighton. Doing any sort of expedition is so exhilarating, so different and so totally consuming that coming back to reality is never going to easy, and the closer we got to home, the more I knew that life after tukking was not going to be an easy ride.

We all know that post-exam feeling; you've been focusing on something for weeks, unable to see beyond that final wonderful moment when you walk out of the exam room for the last time. You celebrate wildly, then the Void appears. What next you wonder? Arriving in Brighton three weeks ago was akin to walking out of that exam room, reaching that point which always seemed so far away. As we rounded the corner into Bartholomew Square a crowd of friends, family, supporters and press surged toward us, clapping, waving, shouting. It was a fantastic moment. Yet at the same time it was very surreal, and for the rest of that day Jo and I drifted around in a dreamland, unable to grasp that we had actually done it. After 14 weeks on the road we'd made it home and completed a journey that so many people had doubted we could do. The wild celebrations lasted well into the early hours of the next morning and the next week was a blur of interviews, phonecalls and 'How was the trip?' questions. The surrealness continued all that week, neither of us able to get our heads round being back. Already those long days in China seemed like another world, like they had happened to someone else.

Moreover, everything at home seemed so alien. I remember seeing a familiar looking man in the paper the day we got back and taking a good 20 seconds to realise it was David Cameron. I didn't know any of the songs blaring out of Radio 1, I hadn't heard of the new Almodovar film everyone was raving about or the band that had won The Mercury Music prize, and in my 16 weeks absence three of my friends had got pregnant.

Worst of all was having to drive a normal car again. Having spent 14 weeks tukking across the globe in a three-wheeler I had to rediscover the joys of right hand drive and a normal gear stick. My first four wheeled foray was in my mother's Saab. Within one journey I stalled several times and nudged a wall in a multi-storey car park; I felt like a 17 year old who'd never driven before. Thank goodness after three weeks I am now driving normally again and no longer a hazard to other road users.

Yet the hardest thing I have found about coming back is not really knowing what to do next. I would recommend anyone considering a trip like this to have a solid plan in place for their return: know where you are going to be living and have a firm idea of what you are going to do to fill the post-expedition void. Many people speak of falling into depression when they return from such epic adventures, and I can understand why. Having a positive idea of what you want to do when you return is a good way of avoiding this. Also, try and take some time out to reflect on what you have done, where you have been and all the incredible experiences you have had. Jo and I saw and learnt so much on our tukathon that I think I will be digesting it for years to come. However hard it has been coming back I keep reminding myself of how lucky I have been to have seen the world from three-wheels, when so many of the people we met along the way have hardly enough money to feed and clothe themselves. Its easy to forget, in our cosy Western World, how lucky we are to have what we do and doing this trip has made me realise that more than ever. It is hard coming back, and reality has been hard to swallow but in the bigger picture these are minor details. Tukking across 12 countries in 14 weeks was the best thing I have ever done and although the post-tukking twilight zone is a little gloomy, I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

India Kitai

2006-09-16T06:39:00.000-07:00

Mamallapuram (India) 16th September

Yes, Jo has hit the road again and after a mere 10 days in Blighty I have fled the country. The reason is that I am visiting my fiance for 5 days, because once I start medical school this wednesday there will be no time to see him before Christmas.

The weather is warm and cloudy and the driving is pretty reckless. To illustrate this point we were going to the cinema yesterday evening and as we turned in a motorbike crashed into us. Or to put it another way, we forced the motorbike to crash into us because we left him no other option. Thank goodness nobody was hurt, because there was a father, his wife and their 10 year old daughter on the bike. Of course none of them were wearing helmets and the mother was sitting side saddle because she was wearing a sari. So, that was last night's drama and miraculously it was not a serious incident. The driver informed me afterwards that it was not his fault, but if this had occurred in the UK I think the police would take a slightly different stance.

The title of this blog is the name of my new ferret. Pebbles passed away while we were in China and she was replaced by a baby in my absence. She is called India because obviously I love India and Kitai is China in Russian.

The money we've raised is slowly rising and once I have amended Just Giving we will be at about 28k. Keep checking this blog for any more tukking news or further crazy antics we are planning.

Love from India,

Jo

xoxoxo

P.S. Seeing all the Indian autos i.e. tuk tuks is giving me itchy feet for another Ting Tong mission- watch this space!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH

2006-09-10T17:26:00.000-07:00

Brighton 11th september, past my bed time

We (Jo, Ants and TT) would like to say a huge big thank you to a number of people.

Indrum (www.indrum.com)- darling Brian, you have been an absolute star for creating such a wonderful website for Tuk to the Road; our site is the voice of this whole project and it is thanks to you that people have found out about our trip and helped us raise £24,000 for Mind to date; we will forever be indebted to you

Bob Carden (Brighton's mayor)- thank you for welcoming us back to Brighton after our 14 week adventure; it was the best day of my life and you helped make it that

The Brighton tuc tucs- for escorting us the last couple of miles home; it was great fun and a fitting way to finish- 3 is the magic number

Mind- for believing in us and supporting us throughout our trip; only another £26,000 to go

Expertise (www.yourtuktuk.com)- Anuwat, you are a genius and built us the best tuk tuk in the world

David Fall (British ambassador to Thailand)- for giving us the best send off in Bangkok, providing moral support throughout and travelling to be there at the finish line too

Sally- for bringing my darling bully boys to meet us at the end, looking after them, saving Shrimp's life and teaching them how to email and blog

Lara, Kaye and Patsy- for looking after the rest of my babies so well; I am so grateful

Skype (www.skype.com)- the whole team and particularly Hannah, for your support throughout; a friend for life

PI Direct (www.pidirect.co.uk Tel: 020 7337 7500)- for your sponsorship and support throughout

Activair (www.activair.com)- for your sponsorship and support

Brighton Square (www.brightonsquare.co.uk)- for your sponsorship and support

Travelfish (www.travelfish.org)- for your sponsorship, journalistic talents, great photographs and reliable info on SE Asia

Cellhire (www.cellhire.co.uk)- for providing us with the BGAN which enabled us to blog and communicate throughout the trip; also, for the endless support

Liftshare (www.liftshare.com)- for your sponsorship and support

Imperial Hotels (www.imperialhotels.co.uk)- for your sponsorship and support

Mazars (www.mazars.co.uk)- for your sponsorship and support

PDC (www.pdc-brighton.co.uk)- for designing and producing our leaflets and business cards

Toniks languages (www.toniks.com)- for providing Russian lessons so that Ants could navigate us safely through Kazakhstan, Russia and the Ukraine

Silva (www.silva.se)- for providing our environmentally friendly solar panels

Whtiby and Co (www.whitbyandco.co.uk)- for providing us a leatherman, an essential mutlitool that we used every day

Nomad (www.nomadtravel.co.uk)- for providing us with our comprehensive medical kit, which we would have been in trouble without on more than one occassion

Ultraseal (www.ultraseal.biz)- for providing us with Ultraseal for all of TT's tyres, so that we didn't get a single puncture; all vehicles should use this product

Shaz- for your support and technical skills regarding all things relating to video cameras; sorry for my occassional nudity

Dad, mum and Nick- without you this trip would never have happened; I love you all so much

And of course not forgetting my partners in crime........

TT aka Ting Tong, Tingers, Ting a Ling, little minx etc....you got us home safe and sound and I love every inch of your pink and chrome body....but, you were built by the tuk tuk genius of the world

Mr Ant, Antonia Banderas, Fez, ferret, Ants, Antonia, woofy.....etc....

...couldn't have wished for a better partner...for all your hard work, organisation, support and love....if it wasn't for you I would still be asleep and snoring in China....I LOVE YOU

To everyone who has donated to Mind- your money will make a difference to those out there suffering with mental health problems; from us and them, thank you.

To all those who I haven't mentioned above and there are many more, you know who you are and we love you all for your support and kindness over the last eight months.

Thank you and goodnight,

Jo

xoxoxoxoxo

Joanna, you really need to tidy your bedroom!!!!!

2006-09-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

Brighton, 10th september

You really know you're home when a parent instructs you that your bedroom is a mess- "it's not my fault, I've been away all summer". Neither am I taking responsibility for the 'wild' garden and blocked drain. I think my brother must have been sitting on his backside all summer and not tending to grown up duties.

It still feels a little weird to be back, but not as strange as I felt just after disembarking the Eurotunnel. I have returned to drinking copious amounts of tea, playing with the ferrets, reading trashy mags and going to bed too late with great ease. Life is still the same, the only thing is that I now have four months of great memories to dip into whenever I feel like it. I have successfully forgotten how challenging the trip was and am already fantasising about driving back to Thailand the southerly route i.e. Iran, Pakistan, India.

Driving my car has been a challenge, as I have managed to stall four times and almost run over a cat- thank goodness for ABS brakes. TT is much more fun to drive than a car and once she has been sorted and registered I will take her for a spin to Surrey and Norfolk.

I have finally started to sleep well and for the last few days I have been suffering from a common condition called velcro bed. I've had quite a chilled weekend- playing with the ferrets, tidying all my stuff from the trip, dancing to Boney M in the kitchen, writing lists of things 'to do' and most recently a BBQ. A local cat decided to invite himself round and I was tossing up whether to have a cat kebab or give him some steak- I decided that as I am not currently in China I would give him some steak.

I will recap over our arrival last sunday. As Ants has said, it was pretty strange driving the last stretch to Brighton. I couldn't believe that we had actually made it in one piece and was totally paranoid about crashing just before we ended. We pulled up on the outskirts of Brighton to meet the Brighton tuc tucs, who looked so diddy next to TT. We then began the ceremonious two mile drive to the finishing line, lead by the Union Jack tuc tuc and beeping most of the way into town. Most people waved but one guy shouted 'shut the f*** up', to which I replied 'stop being a miserable English ?**?'. We pulled up just around the corner from Bartholomew Square so that Shaz could get the camera set up. I had a quick cigarette to calm the nerves and we drove the last hundred yards into the Square. We drove through a pink ribbon and were greated by shouts and screams of family and friends- it was such an amazing moment and completely overwhelming. I thought I would burst into tears, but my eyes remained totally dry until one of my ferrets (Shrimp) was placed in my arms and the waterwroks started. My mum said she thought it was nice the way I cried over a ferret but not over her- sorry mum, but if you had whiskers, fur and a pink diamonte collar you would make me cry too.

We had photos taken and a couple of interviews and then it was time to say hi to everyone who'd been kind enough to welcome us back. Unfortunately, there was not enough time and too many people there to properly speak to everyone. However, I would like to say a really big thank you to everyone who turned up- it was very special and probably one of the best moments of my life. TT then had to be driven back to her new home and we had to unload our bags, before a quick turnaround and back into town to the pub. For some reason I only had a couple of drinks and remained sober the entire evening. After the pub we went to a Thai restaurant, followed by home for my gang and partying for Ants' gang. The following morning was a horribly early radio interview, which went fine considering how tired we were.

That's pretty much it for this last week, as the rest of the time has been boring admin, tidying and ferret collecting. We have already raised a fantastic £24,000 for Mind, so thank you so much to all of those who have already donated. We still have another £26,000 to raise to reach our target for Mind and so the thinking cap is on for more wacky fundraising ideas. Oh yeah, one more thing- Ants and I have made it into the final two for Cosmo's Fun Fearless Female awards in the friends/family category. That means we get to go to a snazzy black tie do in november and hopefully increase the profile of our trip to raise even more money for Mind.

I'm off to play with my ferrets now, all 12 of them- bet you're jealous.

Jo

xoxoxoxo

The post-tukking twilight zone

2006-09-10T10:49:00.000-07:00

The Unthank Arms, Norwich, Norfolk, UK

The worst thing about doing something like drive 20,453 km in a tuk tuk is having to step out at the end and return to the real world. Jo and I both knew it would be hard, that after 16 weeks away from home Reality would be a hard concept to grasp....and we were right. We've been back a week now and everything still feels strange. I keep thinking about all that's happened since we left Bangkok in May, all those dusty roads we've travelled, and I can't get my head round it. It feels like a dream. Even odder is the fact that everyone always says, 'Oh nothing will have changed when you get back, everyone will be doing the same thing still'. But since I left home on May 14 three of my friends have got pregnant, one has got married, three family friends have died and my sister has split up with her long term boyfriend. So some things do change. Seeing my friends getting hitched and pregnant scares me somewhat, I feel as if everyone is growing up and settling down and I'm still behaving like an adolescent and galavanting round the world on three-wheels. But then life is what you make it and for the moment the three-wheeled path is the one I have chosen.

Now back to last Sunday.

Driving those last 30 km to Brighton was dreamlike. Neither Jo or I could really believe that we had done it, and we were both really worried about having a crash in the very final stages. I felt very emotional driving the last stretch from Lewes to Brighton, so aware that the greatest adventure of my life so far was about to come to an abrupt halt. For the last few km we were escorted into town by two of the new Brighton tuc tuc taxis (the CNG ones that have been all over the press this summer). The three of us tukked into Brighton and along the seafront beep beep beeping with lots of people waving and shoouting things like 'Are you the ones from Asia?' Our official finish line was in Bartholomew Square and as we rounded the corner into the square all our families and friends ran out, jumping up and down, waving, squealing, shouting and generally looking quite happy that we had actually made it. The next hour was most surreal; driving through a pink ribbon, saying hello to everyone, being greeted by the Mayor, Jo's ferrets appearing - cue tears - interviews with the BBC, the Argus, the EDP, lots of photos being taken. Then it was time for the PUB, where much champagne was drunk and lots of hugs and kisses dispensed. The PUB was followed by supper at, appropriately, a Thai restaurant, which was followed by a club. By the latter stages the numbers had dwindled to the faithful few; my sister, my cousins, my boyfriend, my wonderful friend Charlie (who had flown all the way from Scotland), and a few mates from Norfolk. All I can say is that at 5 a.m Charlie, my sister and my boyfriend were dancing on podiums at The Zap Club and a helluva lot of champagne had been consumed. Needless to say our 8 a.m radio interview with BBC Southern Counties was a little bleary eyed.

At 1 a.m the next night, after my Pa had decided to take the scenic route from Brighton to Norfolk, I eventually made it HOME, to my own bed, which after 16 weeks away was ODD.

Its now a week later and I feel as if I'm only just coming round and realising that we are back and that life has to go on. There are all those dull things like tax returns, bills and dodgy cars to sort out, plus scary questions to address like what comes next. London, Norfolk or some far off land??? Life is never simple.

Got to dash...having a pint now. More soon xx

We've only gone and done it.

2006-09-06T04:44:00.000-07:00

The Stable Gallery, Kelling, Norfolk, UK

We've done it we've done it we've done it....yeeeeeeehhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaah.

A mega blog will follow very shortly but just wanted to post a very, very quick one to say we're back. I'm feeling a bit lost without Jo and Ting Tong, like I've lost a limb, and spent a lot of time yesterday wandering round my house aimlessly wandering what to do with myself. I think the next few weeks will be quite odd, but we've got to hold on to all those amazing things we've seen.

Thanks all those who have read this and supported us and keep reading as hopefully there'll be some exciting developments in the next few months.

Heid - where were you on Sunday then??

More later today or tomorrow.... x x Ants

We've tukking made it

2006-09-04T16:36:00.000-07:00

4th september, Brighton (UK)

All three of us are back home safe and sound. We finished yesterday in Brighton and it was a very emotional and incredible moment. There were so many special faces there and it was almost too much to absorb all at once. A big thank you to everyone who came to meet us.

I now feel slightly less like a stranger in my own country, although it is all still a bit weird. Very very tired after 3 hours sleep last night and so am planning an undisturbed 8 hours in my own bed tonight.

Ants and I went our seperate ways today and it was really sad to say goodbye, although we spoke on the phone within the hour and will see each other very soon.

We will both have a short rest before planning a way to raise another 25k for Mind to reach our target of £50,000. Thanks to all those who have supported Mind and our trip so far.

Off to bed now- goodnight and thank you. Will post a proper blog about how it all feels when I have a little more brain power.

Jo

xoxoxoxo

The final leg

2006-09-02T11:19:00.000-07:00

East Sussex- sept 2nd

We have spent the last week flying through the wind and cold of western europe, driving on 'proper' roads and meeting some great people.

Prague- a lovely weekend with Ants and dad, followed by a press conference at the British embassy

Germany- met Daniel and Susi, who travelled from Bangkok to Germany in their own TT last year; thanks so much guys for looking after us

Belgium- met up with a BBC cameraman and then stayed with Sam and B, who we first met about 6 months ago when we were squeezing people for advice; they treated us like superstars and we had a great night- thank you

France- the tunnel under the sea; French drivers are not much better than the Germans and definitely worse than the Belgians

UK- yes, can you believe it. TT has arrived back in Blighty and we are holed up in a secret location in East sussex, ready for the last 50km tomorrow

So many emotions I cannot really articulate now. However, I feel like a stranger in my own country- WEIRD.

Hopefully see some of you faithful bloggers in Brighton tomorrow. 3.30pm 3rd september, Bartholomew Square

xoxoxoxo

Touch Down

2006-09-02T10:35:00.001-07:00

A Secret Location in South East England....

14 weeks and over 20,000 km's later we have made it...as far as England at least. At 3.30 pm this afternoon the three of us waved goodbye to foreign fields and tukked onto the Eurostar. An hour later we were hogging the inside lane of the M20 and heading for Brighton. Now here we are, tukked away in a leafy corner of the south of England, preparing for the final touch down tommorrow afternoon.

Being in England is VERY strange; Jo and I have both got the sensation of being imposters in our own country. It feels like we have been away for ages, seen so much, its almost too much to take in that tomorrow it all comes to an end. Its very sad. Last night, after a few too many glasses of white wine and champagne, the thought of coming back to England and finishing this glorious adventure made me cry. I know it will be wonderful to see everyone, but after that its Monday, and reality, and all those What Next? questions.

Our last night abroad could not have been more perfect. We had the privilege of staying with Sam and Bea Rutherford in Brussels, who spoilt us rotten and fed us amazing Belgian chocolate brownies and champagne. I mentioned them both on a blog months ago: Sam drove from london to Sydney in a pink landrover -called Pinky - in 1998-9, and gave us lots of invaluable advice before we left. It seems like months and months ago that he and Bea, over a glass of wine in Winchester, asked us to come and stay with them as we tukked past Brussels. Thanks guys for a wonderful European send off.

So many thoughts and feelings are galloping through my head about the last few months, about tomorrow, about next week, next month, next year....but they'll have to wait till next week to be blogged. All I can say is that the last few months have been both the most exhilarating and challenging times of my life. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to do such a journey, to meet the people I have, and to have travelled with two such wonderful companions. I know there will be more tears tomorrow.

FINALLY...and very importantly...here are the details about tomorrow.

We are landing in Bartholomew Square, Brighton, England, at 3.30 p.m. Click on the below link for details fo how to get there:

http://www.streetmap.co.uk/newmap.srf?x=531064&y=104009&z=1&sv=Bartholomew+Square&st=6&tl=Bartholomew+Square,+Brighton,+BN1&searchp=newsearch.srf&mapp=newmap.srf

You won't be able to miss us, we're pink and we have three-wheels. The Mayor of Brighton is welcoming us and as far as we know BBC South Today and a few other journalists are coming. There will also be some diamonte encrusted ferrets in a 'Weasel Wagon' in attendance. The more the merrier and if you live in the Brighton area and have nothing better to do on a Sunday afternoon then do come down. We're not quite sure what happens after, but the general idea is to have a PARTY / few drinks somewhere in Brighton, after we have tukked up TT in her PJs in her new home.

More blogs next week, when we have recovered from the shock of finishing. Happy Saturday night xx Ants

Bavarian Sausage to Eau de Cologne

2006-08-31T23:22:00.000-07:00

Hotel Madison, Cologne, Germany

Its 8 a.m, we're in Cologne and very soon we have got to load up TT, hope she starts and tuk off to Brussels. Somewhere on route we are meeting up with a BBC cameraman who has come out to film us for the day, before we do a live feed from Brussels city centre tonight. Help. So if you are in the South of England tune into BBC 1 at 6.30pm to have a laugh at our performance. If you live stateside then you can watch it over the internet, but probably not till tomorrow, at www.bbc.co.uk/england/south today.

Also, if you are a Radio 1 listener watch out for a mention of us by Pete Tong on his show tonight, between 6-9 p.m. Again, you can listen live over the internet at www.bbc.co.uk/radio1.

Apart from that, I'm writing this in serious haste so not really enough time to fill you in on all the details...I'll just jot down some of the vital stats, as it were.

In the last few days we've tukked, in filthy rain and cold, from Prague to Cologne, via Bavaria to see Daniel and Susi and meet their TT. They were so lovely; helped us with Ting Tong, who is being a BAD GIRL, fed us, took us to meet Susi's family. They drove their TT all through Mongolia, Japan, Russia and North Africa last year - 38,000 km's in total. Amazing.

Driving on the autobahn is a little hair-raising at first. It must be a funny sight; Porsche, BMW, Audi, Merc, BMW, Porsche, VW, Ferrari...Ting Tong. While we cruise along at a steady 55-60 mph (around 100 km/h) they zoooooom past at well over 120 mph. Alarming.

Only 2 days left of this journey. Can't get my head round it but at the moment we are so occupied with the matter of getting Ting Tong home that there isn't the headspace to worry about what Sunday will be like or what will happen after.

That's all for now. Hope to do another blog before we finish, if not it'll be early next week. xxx Ting Tong

D Day is nearly upon us

2006-08-30T01:19:00.000-07:00

Waidhaus, Germany

We're in Germany, its pouring with rain, as it has been since we left Ukraine, and today we are heading south to see Daniel and Susi, who last year drove one of Anuwat's TT's all the way back from Thailand also.

I just wanted to do this blog to post a picture we took in Prague at the weekend, which caused much amusement to random passers by. Enjoy.

Only 5 days to go... xxx Ants

No butt surfing please we’re British

2006-08-29T12:44:00.000-07:00

28th August, Prague

Our hotel in Krakow was a really unique place, rammed full of paintings and antique furnishings. Our bedroom was on the top floor and had a skylight, so we had a good view out over the city. The only drawback was that the early morning light flooded in and woke us up.

The tukkers were both tired and therefore did not spend the day sightseeing, rather pottered around Rynek Glowny square and enjoyed the café culture.

So, Krakow was a fascinating place, but without the time or the energy we didn’t manage to do it justice. There will be many places on our list to return to at a later date as regular tourists e.g. Odessa, Lviv, Krakow.

Our departure from Krakow was slightly delayed by TT. On the way to Krakow the accelerator cable had snapped and TT had started hissing. We had replaced the accelerator cable on the road, but I had made the job more difficult by removing the plastic sheath that should have encased the cable. Before we left we had a poke around to try and find a cause for the hissing and I attempted to rethread the cable. Both jobs were unsuccessful and a guy who was working in the hotel had to sort out my botch job. Next stop was a local mechanic. He managed to rethread the accelerator cable but didn’t really try to find the source of the hissing. Instead, he slightly tightened her drive belt. We didn’t feel particularly confident that she would be sorted, but tukked off anyway and decided that we could stop at another mechanic if the hissing became unbearable.

Our next stop was Auschwitz to visit the site where the Nazis committed heinous crimes against the Jews and other humans back in the 1940s. It was a suitably grey and drizzly day and the sites were very well designed to educate tourists about the atrocities committed. We left feeling a bit depressed that any human being could cause such suffering to other human beings i.e. their brothers and sisters. However, it seems that leaders never really learn from the past and our supposed democratic governments in the western world still think that it is justifiable to kill innocent women, children and men. In the case of the USA they pass it off as that rather vulgar euphemism of ‘collateral damage’. There can never ever be any justification for killing innocent civilians, whether intentional or unintentional. When will some of the people in this world get it into their thick skulls that they are wrong.

As we left Auschwitz the rain became heavier and so we decided to stay in a local hotel. The Hotel Glob was the ultimate concrete communist-era eyesore, but thankfully was much more pleasant inside.

The following morning we were up early for a long drive to Prague. Our darling TT decided that she didn’t want to start and so we had to enlist the help of a young mechanic to get her going. Once we were on our way the drive was OK. The directions were very clearly signposted and the tarmac was pretty smooth. In fact, you would not believe that I drove TT at just over 70mph on the Czech motorway. The border crossing was incredibly simple and took a mere two minutes- unbelievable. The Czech roads were the most consistently good and fast and we got to Prague in daylight, although we got lost for about half an hour once in the city trying to find our apartment.

I will now explain the title of this blog. Butt surfing is not something that people do in the privacy of their bedrooms. What I am referring to is the behaviour that we call tail gating in England. Basically, stupid drivers who think it is a great idea to get right up another vehicle’s ass and drive within a couple of feet. We have had to deal with this behaviour during the whole trip, but the faster the vehicles travel the more potentially lethal it becomes, regardless of whether the vehicle has ABS or not. We have seen so many accidents that have occurred as a direct result of butt surfing. We drive TT so that she keeps a good 2-4 seconds behind the nearest vehicle in front. As the vehicles get faster we are increasing the distance. Sometimes, the large gap we leave between ourselves and the vehicle in front is far too tempting for drivers behind us and they force us to briefly butt surf as they cut in right in front of us. Do people not realize that when you take control of a motorized vehicle you are in control of a potentially lethal piece of machinery. Dangerous driving also encompasses drink driving and anyone that indulges in either is an incredibly selfish idiot. I should have bought the sticker that I have attached to the back of my Vectra in England- ‘Unless you’re a hemorrhoid, keep off my ass’.

Some last minute luxury

2006-08-28T03:33:00.000-07:00

Prague

Jo and I are sitting here in an internet cafe, sending out press releases and our final (and only 2nd) newsletter. The sights of Prague beckon outside but unfortunately tukking chores come first.

We've had a few bits of press in the last couple of days, see the links below:

BBC News, August 26th

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/low/uk_news/england/5289180.stm

The Eastern Daily Press, August 24th

http://new.edp24.co.uk/search/story.aspx?brand=EDPOnline&category=News&itemid=NOED23%20Aug%202006%2023:18:35:967&tBrand=EDPOnline&tCategory=search

The Sunday Mirror, August 27th

http://www.sundaymirror.co.uk/news/news/tm_objectid=17635419%26method=full%26siteid=62484-name_page.html

Now a few quick words about Prague then back to chores.

Jo's Pa Bob has come out to meet us for the weekend and has been thoroughly spoiling us. We're staying in a luxurious apartment in Old Town, overlooking the river, and last night he took us to one of the best restaurants in the city, Kampo Park, where we had the most amazing supper overlooking Karluvy Most. Its so good to be having a bit of luxury and getting some rest in before the very final leg of our journey.

Tomorrow morning we're going to the British Embassy to have a drink with the Ambassador and do some press stuff, then heading for Germany.

Right, back to my list of 'Things to Do'. Hope to see some of you in Brighton on Sunday; 3.30 pm in Bartholomew Square.

xx Ants

Its not over till the fat lady sings

2006-08-28T02:28:00.000-07:00

Old Town Apartments, Prague, Czech Republic

I’m not quite sure who the fat lady is, but this aphorism sprung to mind early yesterday morning as, with Jo at the wheel, myself, a security guard and the local mechanic pushed a recalcitrant Ting Tong round a car park in Oswiecim. As it had been a little chilly the night before the Pink Lady’s spark plugs had once again revolted and said they weren’t going anywhere until they had warmed up. It was the fourth time in two days that Her Ladyship had caused us problems, reminding us that we may be 9/10ths of the way through our 14 weeks tukathon but it isn’t over till its over.

It was with great relief that her engine finally turned over and we turned out of our hotel car park towards Prague, 510 km’s away.

The last time I wrote a blog was in Lviv, when Jo and I had been too tired to appreciate the beauty of the place after two very long days on the road. After another bad night’s sleep, feeling far from refreshed, we set off early the next morning for Krakow, 300 km’s away across in Poland.

At 10.30 the first of the day’s incidents occurred when the accelerator cable suddenly went ping. Jo was asleep in the back and was rudely awoken by some bad language coming from the front and the bad news that we were going to have to perform a mechanical procedure. Under a leaden sky, in biting wind, we extracted the tool box and got to work; one and a half hours later we were on our way again, having had a few issues with pieces of wire not fitting where they were supposed to.

At about 1 o’clock we spotted a very, very long queue of cars which signaled our arrival at the Ukraine / Poland border. The crossing was lengthy but uneventful and four hours later we were in Poland, both very sad to be waving goodbye to Ladaland. We’ve spent 6 weeks in Russian speaking countries and have met so many fantastic people and seen so many interesting things. Entering Poland, and the EU, meant saying farewell to all that we had become familiar with; clapped out Ladas, outdoor showers, Kamaz trucks, gold teeth, Tartars, smetana, vodka and officious police. It also meant that we were well and truly embarking on the final leg of our journey and that our arrival in England is scarily imminent.

Driving into Poland was like entering a new world. Within 20 km’s we had spotted a Tesco and a McDonalds, those vile totems of westernization. Gleaming BP and Shell Garages were in place of their more disheveled Ukrainian and Russian counterparts. A surfeit of shiny new road signs marched along the roadside and everywhere the EU stars reminded you of Poland’s new identity. Never before had Jo or I seen so many road signs, it is as if Poland have gone overboard in an attempt to become a paradigmatic EU nation.

As if to complement our grey moods at having entered the western world, at about 5 pm the heavens opened, much to the disdain of TT’s temperamental sparks. They didn’t force us to a standstill but they did slow us down and the next few hours were accompanied by the sound of their spluttering disapproval. That and non-stop roadworks meant that at 10 pm we were still 100 km’s short of Krakow….at which point Ting Tong threw yet another tukking tantrum, suddenly emitting an alarming hissing sound from within the depths of her engine. She’d hissed before, but this was a different matter, and Jo demanded that we stopped and investigated further. I was all for limping on to Krakow and dealing with the problem in the fresh light of morning, but Jo, being the sensible one, decided otherwise. So we pulled into the next petrol station and for the second time that day went through the rigmarole of unscrewing the driver’s seat to get into the engine. The Chief Mechanic, AKA Jo, swiftly identified a large hole in the air hose, which after a bit of fiddling looked like it was sorted, and we carried on. Ten inutes later TT was hissing again, but this time we decided there was no more we could do so ploughed on to Krakow. We pulled up outside our hotel at 12.30, tizzy with fatigue, and after a glass of wine fell into bed and passed out. God what a day, certainly our longest yet at 15 ½ hours, and probably the hardest.

Krakow, like Lviv, is an incredibly beautiful city, with street upon street of architectural delights. And once again, like Lviv, we were far too exhausted to fully check it out. I didn’t actually get out of bed till 2 p.m the next day, and we spent the afternoon ambling about, chilling in cafes and taking a horse-drawn carriage round the Old Town. What surprised us both was the volume of tourists and the amount of American and English voices we heard amidst the crowds. Ukraine and Russia felt a world away and we both hankered for what we had left behind.

There’s an interesting legend about Krakow, which is that many moons ago Lord Shiva threw seven magic stones towards seven parts of the world, one of which landed in Krakow, in the Wawel Castle. The places that had been hit were instantly imbued with the God's energy, and remain so to this day. The seven places, known as the world's chakras, are: Delhi, Delphi, Jerusalem, Krakow, Mecca, Rome and Velehrad. You may dismiss this as hippy nonsense but apparently all sorts of dowsings, tests and divining has been done here and numerous studies published and they all seem to confirm there is something a little bit magic about this place.....

The next morning we headed straight for the nearest mechanic and then south-west out of Krakow, in the general direction of Prague. Our last stop in Poland was Oswiecim, better known by its German name, Auschwitz, a name synonymous with unfathomable cruelty and suffering. Under gathering rain clouds we covered up TT and headed into Birkenau, the first of the two museums here. Although less famous than its neighbour, Birkenau - which held up to 100,000 prisoners - was where the Nazis murdered hundreds of thousands of Jews, Poles, Gypsies, homosexuals and any one else they felt like. Although the SS, sensing defeat, tried to cover up evidence of their atrocities much of the camp still remains and as you wander around amongst the endless lines of barbed wire fencing and blown up gas chambers and crematoriums you get a sense of the scale of the Nazi operation. It felt suitable that it was such a dank, miserable day. At the far end is a massive monument in memory of those who died here, which states, in every European language, ‘Let this place be a cry of despair and a warning to all humanity…’. Its shocking to think that what happened here was only 62 years ago, and that so many innocents endured such horror.

Next stop was Auschwitz, 3 km down the road. Established in 1940 for Polish political prisoners it was expanded in 1941-2 to take in European Jews from as far away as Corfu, Greece and Hungary. No one quite knows how many people died here and at Birkenau, since as the war progressed the Nazis didn’t bother registering their victims, they just unloaded them straight off the trains and into the gas chambers. Tragically, many of the Jews who arrived here had been duped by the Nazis into believing they had been transported for ‘resettlement’; the Nazis sold them non-existent plots of land and offered them work in fictitious shops and factories.

Of course I knew about the Holocaust before, and how disgustingly bigoted and cruel it was, but it wasn’t until we walked round Auschwitz that it truly sunk in. Seeing those thousands of photographs, the piles of belongings, reading about the tales of heroic resistance movements, seeing the conditions the prisoners were forced to exist in. Harrowing is not the word, and not for the first time history made me cry. Almost worst of all was a photo of a woman who had weighed 70 kg when she arrived, but at the time of the photograph she was a pathetic 25 kg. As in Volgograd I was left horrified at humanity’s capacity for cruelty and mass destruction.

Everyone knows about the Holocaust, but less people are aware of how badly the Poles suffered at the dual hands of Hitler and Stalin in WWII. Both men set out to wipe Poland off the map, again, and by 1945 Poland had lost over 20% of its prewar population. Worst off were its intelligentsia, whom Hitler and Stalin feared the most. 57% of Poland’s lawyers, 40% of its doctors and 30% of its university lecturers were murdered by these two megalomaniacs. Its no surprise that the handful of Polish pilots who fought for us in the Battle of Britain were some of the most lethal fighters we had.

Anyway, enough history, back to tukking…..

After seeing the museum our night was spent at the unremarkable Hotel Glob, where the next morning we had the debacle of TT once again refusing to start. By the time she got her act together it was 9.30 a.m, and off we sped towards the Czech border. I was only just beginning to get used to Polish Zloty, and having an almost recognizable alphabet, and it was time for another country.

Amazingly, the border crossing took a mere two minutes and was a matter of flashing our passports. 450 km’s later, having cruised along immaculate Czech tarmac, we hit Prague. I’m all blogged out for now so will write more about Prague tomorrow, but my oh my we were glad to get here last night and meet up with Jo’s Pa. And wow there are a lot of tourists here. Xx Ants

It’s a Brazilian

2006-08-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

24th August, Hotel Alef II, Krakow (Poland)

Oops, I have been a bit lazy at following up to our night on the tiles in Odessa. Suffice to say it was quite an eye opener and most red blooded males/lesbians would have been in heaven.

Ants and I were extremely tired as we had a bite to eat in Arkadia beach prior to going to Club Ibiza. I had no idea how I would muster the energy to go clubbing, but we decided to go anyway and see what it was like. We ordered a Mojito each and surveyed the skinny tarted up girls. If I had turned up naked with just the Yi apron on I would have still felt underdressed. The amount of make up on display was to the extent that you couldn’t tell if what was underneath was attractive or otherwise.

I started fantasizing about my bed and just when I was thinking about trying to make a break back to the hotel a Levi’s fashion show started. The girls wore not much other than jeans and the guys somersaulted down the catwalk. After this a crazy guy wearing shiny green tracksuit bottoms, a clashing green T-shirt, a back wig and sunglasses hit the stage with a microphone and proceeded to fire everyone up and dance very badly. We hit the dance floor and were treated to a semi-pornographic display by the scantily clad dancers. The title of this blog is a tribute to those girls. It was a real laugh and we decided to leave while we were still having fun, rather than waiting until we were knackered. We also were aware that we had a long drive ahead of us the following day towards Lviv.

The following morning we set off for somewhere between Odessa and Lviv, with the intention of probably camping. As the sun began to set we pulled off the road and found a quiet wooded clearing to set up camp. Unlike in Russia, there were no killer mozzies, but instead we were bombarded by bugs who liked the look of the head torch. After supper Ants had a bit of an accident and let out a yelp. I though she had been stung (again) but it turned out that she had managed to get boiling water all over her right hand. Poor Ants ended up having my dirty T-shirt wrapped around her hand which had been covered in cold water, while I ferreted around in our Nomad medical kit and found a burn dressing. I then proceeded to bandage her up like a boxer, hoping that her injury would not stop her driving the rest of the trip back to the UK. It is a running joke between us that we don’t want the other one to get hurt in any way that will stop them driving. Much as we adore driving TT we are not too keen to have the sole responsibility of driving her.

The following morning we dragged ourselves from our idiot proof tent and packed up, both of us feeling grubby and tired. We hit the road and headed for Lviv. Luckily we had already reserved a hotel room, which meant that the only stress would be finding it in a reasonably large city. One of the things that can really do your head in after a long day on the road is arriving somewhere, getting lost and/or not finding anywhere to stay e.g. Samara in Russia.

As we drove into Lviv it became quite apparent why the city is a world heritage site. The combination of the attractive buildings and cobbled streets made quite an impression on me. Our hotel was a bit tricky to find as it was tucked away of the street, but it turned out to have just about the best location of any hotel in the whole city i.e. bang in the centre.

The next day we had planned to explore Lviv, but only managed a half hearted attempt due to our ongoing problems with fatigue. I can understand why we get tired on this trip, but why Ants and I seem to have spent most of the trip not sleeping soundly is extremely annoying and means we get a double dose of tiredness. When we get home I am going to get into my bed for 24 hours and not move.

That brings me on to yesterday. We left Lviv at 9am and hoped to be in Krakow in the evening. The border was only about 100km away from Lviv, but we were delayed by TT suffering from a broken accelerator cable. We changed it, but I made the job a whole lot more challenging by removing the wire from its plastic sheath. At the border we joined a very long queue of about 100 other vehicles. We had to wait for about three hours, which wasn’t too bad considering how many cars there were. Just as we neared the front of the queue the heavens opened and TT had a shower. Not only was it raining but it was also cold. Ants and I shivered away cursing the weather and border crossings.

After we had successfully left behind the Ukraine we had to wait for about 30 minutes in no man’s land before being processed by the Polish officials. This was the easiest entrance to a country we have encountered. As Poland is part of the EU we didn’t need any stamps, visas, declarazia, import papers etc….they just entered TT’s and our details on the computer and we were free to go.

Poland turned into a bit of a reverse culture shock, like in Almaty. I have never seen so many road signs in my life and Ants and I dry wretched when we came across a 24hour Tesco, a Shell garage and a McDonalds all within a couple of miles. Yuk, things that I have not missed about England at all are the multinationals reminding you of there presence every couple of miles.

I had tried unsuccessfully to book a hotel in Krakow over the internet and so as I drove Ants rang around 15 hotels before she finally found one with a room for the night. The phrase, ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try and try again” springs to mind.

The drive to Krakow was frustrating for a number of reasons. Firstly, the road to Krakow passed through towns and villages with such frequency that it made driving a slow process i.e. constantly slowing down to 70kmh and often 40mph every time a house appeared. Secondly, TT started making the most unbelievable hissing sound- I initially thought the sound was coming from road works. We pulled into a garage and I got on my back and had a poke around. I thought I had found the problem when I spotted that the hose from the air filter had come loose. So I resealed it and hoped that the hissing would stop. We drove along for a few km before TT started making a racket again. The weird thing was that she didn’t always make a racket and the whistling came and went. By this time it was dark and after 11pm. The final challenge was lots and lots of road works, which meant more slow speeds. Still, I was driving in true granny style anyway because of TT’s hissing and the darkness.

We eventually arrived at our hotel at 12.30am last night. I felt like it was 7am and I had been clubbing all night- not pleasant. Will tell you more another time, I am all blogged out. Jo xo

Into the setting sun

2006-08-22T10:50:00.000-07:00

Hotel Wien. Lviv, Ukraine

Ibiza, Odessa

On first impressions Lviv has got to be one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever been to, if not the most beautiful. Jo and I have just had a brief meander round its cobbled streets and crooked alleyways, past a cornucopia of Renaissance, Baroque, rococo and neoclassical buildings. (In 1998 UNESCO recognised this beauty by declaring the whole city a World Heritage Sight.) Unfortunately however we are both too exhausted to give the city justice, and have had to put ourselves to bed for the afternoon instead. I know that sounds feeble but the last two days have been a bit of an endurance test and with only twelve days to go till Touch Down we need to preserve our energy. If not Jo’s nightmares about collapsing with exhaustion on Brighton Pier will be in danger of becoming reality.

After posting our last blogs we got our best glad rags on and hit the tiles in Odessa, at Arkadia Beach to be precise. Lauded as the Ukraine’s answer to Ibiza this pulsating strip of the Black Sea is a mass of bars, clubs, restaurants, buff boys and tottering girls. We’re used to the Russian and Ukrainian girls dressing to kill but this was something else. The average girl that strutted past was dressed like a hooker and wearing so much make-up you’d have to dig it off with a spade to see what they actually looked like. Skirts were indistinguishable from belts and heels were at least four inches high. If Jo and I had decided to go out in nothing but g-strings and six inch gold heels no one would have batted an eye-lid. The boys here must love it.

Having fortified ourselves with a vodka and watched open mouthed at the human traffic parading past us, we bought our tickets for a club called Ibiza, getting there at 12.30 just as a Levi’s fashion show was kicking off and a troupe of anorexic models were sashaying down a catwalk. The club was even more glamorous than The Snow Project in Yekaterinburg; all open air with white troglodyte-style steps and booths cascading down to the dance floor. Champagne swilling mafia types were everywhere, surrounded by scantily dressed girls clutching Gucci and Chanel handbags. Labels, labels, labels.

The fashion show was followed by the dancers, an array of pornographically (un)dressed boys and girls who were high on a little more than life. Quite a spectacle and very, very different from the sort of clubs we’re used to in London like Fabric and Turnmills. All a laugh though and at 3 a.m we crawled into bed not looking forward to our 400km schlep the next day.

Just as we were checking out the next morning (Sunday) two English men called Donal and Gavin came up and pressed $30 into our hands, saying we had to have a ‘beer on them on the way home’. We’d met them the day before in the lobby and I had jokingly asked them whether they were in Odessa looking for wives, like every other older western man, but in fact they were Davis Cup organizers, the tournament this year being held at the Odessa Lawn Tennis Club. They were the first English / Western people we have spoken to in seven weeks. Thanks for the $ guys if you are reading this.

Jo and I have both been baffled by the reaction of the Ukrainian police to Ting Tong. We’d been warned that the police here could be even trickier than the Russian or Kazakh ones -who turned out to be more nosey than tricksome – but so far we have been stopped only a handful of times. On most occasions they look so flabbergasted as we drive past that by the time they’ve composed themselves enough to wave their baton and stop us its too late.

No doubt spurred on by Jo’s very short shorts and leopard print bikini top, one group of bored cops did stop us on Sunday. They weren’t the least bit interested in our ‘dokumenti’ though, only in taking pictures, sitting in Ting Tong and groping Jo’s boobs. If blogger.com will oblige I’ll post a classic photo of one of the policeman sitting in the driver’s seat, grinning widely, his hand clasped firmly to Jo’s leopard print breast. Jo and I have come to the conclusion that the average Russian or Ukrainian man has an overdose of testosterone pumping through their veins; they make English men seem incredibly tame in comparison.

Jo's new Ukrainian boyfriend

Apart from the randy Cop Stop our drive on Sunday was uneventful. We cruised up the main road to Kiev, turned west at Uman and set up camp in a wood about 350 km from Odessa, both desperately in need of a good night’s sleep. But as usual sleep was not forthcoming in tent land and we awoke early the next morning feeling pretty jaded but with over 450 km’s to cover before Lviv. I’d also managed to pour a saucepan of boiling water over my hand the night before which was agony. Thankfully Nurse Jo and our Nomad medical kit saved the day and my hand is now swathed in special burn bandages. If thats the worst injury we sustain on our trip we’ll have done well.

Only twelve days now till we get back to Brighton so we’ve been busy sorting out the Touch Down plans. We’ll keep you posted but at the moment we are going to land in Brighton at around 3.30 pm and be officially finished by The Mayor, Bob Carden. Fingers crossed we’ll be granted special permission to end in Bartholomew’s Square, outside the Mayoral Office. Then its on to a bar (tbc) for some tukking serious celebrations.

Poland tomorrow...then Prague at the weekend…..followed by Frankfurt, Brussels and home. Can’t believe its getting so close. Xx Ants

Kamaz, kamaz, kamaz, kamaz, kamaz..............

2006-08-19T11:05:00.000-07:00

What am I going on about? Well, yesterday on our 550km drive from Bakshiserai to Odesa we came across a queue of Kamaz i.e. big phat strong Russian mega trucks, on the M24. I first spotted a line of about 0.5km of trucks snaking around a dirt track by the side of the road. As we drove along the road the line of trucks went on....and on.....and on......for a total of about 10km. I have never seen anything like it in my life. It got to the point where we actually started to find it a bit freaky. We didn't stop to say hi to them, but waved at a few as we drove past in the opposite direction. I would have loved to know what they doing in that queue. It must have contained nearly all of the Kamaz trucks in the whole of the Ukraine. Ants and I feel that we are almost part of the trucker fraternity, as we have some appreciation of what it is like to drive.......lots and for long distances. In my early 20s I had considered being a trucker or cabbie, but now I don't think I could deal with driving as a career. Big up respect to truck/cab drivers all over the world.

So, briefly back to Bakshiserai after boring you all to near tears with my truck monologue. I really think that on this trip I have developed a strange fascination with tarmac, trucks and just vehicles in general. GEEEEEEEK!

We went to Bakshierai to visit the ancient cave city of Chafut-Kale. It was a mega uphill walk of at least 2km, which was tiring in the searing heat of the day. Personally, it didn't float my boat all that much i.e. a bit boring, but the view from the top was well worth the hike. I bought a drink at the top of the hill that had what looked like a passion fruit crossed with a pineapple on the label. On tasting this beverage I realised that it tasted like no other fruit I had ever come across, so I looked more closely at the label and realised that I was tasting a concoction of multiple E numbers- yum.

The drive yesterday was nothing particularly interesting and we arrived in Odesa as the sun started to set. After six days using squat loos and outdoor showers I was seduced by the glistening metal and glass structure where we now stay, the hotel 'Ripoffski' Odesa. However, Ants and I both agreed that despite the identikit rooms, the price was worth it for the comfy beds, cleanliness, powerful hot shower, swimming pool, buffet breakfast, gym, free parking etc. The frustrating thing about yesterday's drive was that our darling TT had started pulling to the right again. Just when we thought she was sorted, the same problem rears its ugly head again. We both think she has raging PMT at the moment.

After checking in last night and settling into our room, Ants started to read all of the blurb about the hotel that you get in such establishments. Ants read that as we were staying in a superior room then we ought to have an adjoining room with a balcony. A quick call to reception resulted in housekeeping bringing us a key to unlock the locked door in our room. I was in the shower at the time and Ants popped her head around the door in hysterics. She had unlocked the door and walked in on a couple in bed together. She quickly retreated and relocked the door. We then planned all sorts of unpleasant tricks on our neighbours, a few of which I will mention: taking everything from their minibar, putting Boovie and Wirral (our snuggle blanket and pet squirrel) in their beds, climbing into bed with them ourselves in the middle of the night etc........I could go on, but I have only told you the more innocent pranks we hypothesised. I can tell you that 24 hours on, we have not done anything to our neighbours.

Tonight, Ants and I are hitting Arcadia beach in Odesa, home to many nighclubs and bars. Tomorrow we are taking TT to another mechanic and then driving north west towards Lviv, where we will be spending monday night. Tomorrow we will probably be under canvas and eating pasta with tomato puree. Have a good weekend all.
Jo xoxo

Odessan nights

2006-08-19T10:01:00.000-07:00

The Hotel Odessa, Odessa, Ukraine

Odessa, the creation of the indefagitable Catherine the Great, is famous today for several things; neoclassical architecture, Ibizan style 24hr nightclubs, lissome girls and a rampant HIV epidemic. The lissome girls have also made it a major destination for lonely, cashed up Western and Turkish men, one of whom has just mistaken me for a Ukrainian hooker in the lift and launched himself upon me.

For the last few hours Jo and I have been luxuriating in the Turkish Hammam and pool in our hotel, our first slice of luxury in a long time. As I got into the lift up to our room on the 17th floor a lecherous looking Turk scurried in after me. I was clad only in a white bath robe and when he said something to to me I replied, in Russian, that I was English and I didn't understand what he had just said. Being Turkish, the same applied to my answer. He looked at me in an undesirable manner then said 'Sex?', which I did understand, and lunged at me, kissing me on the cheek as I swerved his advance. As the lift sped up through the floors I ducked several more advances then bolted for our room. Yuk. And he had bad breath.

Apart from that little episode, which in retrospect is quite funny, Odessa has been great. We left Bakchiserai at 8 a.m yesterday, having breakfasted under the fruit trees in our host Tanya's garden, and headed north. We had 550 km's to cover in one day so knew we were in for a long one. Moreover, our efforts to prebook a hotel in Odessa had fallen flat so we thought we might have problems at the other end and didn't want to be arriving in the dark to begin hotel hunting, our least favourite sport.

Unsure of which road to take out of Bakshiserai we pulled over and asked a man waiting for a bus. He leapt into TT before we could object and said he would show us the way, which he did for the next 30 km's. Jo was driving so I chatted to him in the back and he told me, as Redvan had, that his name was Emil and he was a Tartar, and that he had only returned from Uzbekistan the year before. Life was clearly not easy for him. He was 36, married with a child and only earns $400 a month as a mechanic. Considering petrol costs $1 a litre here that sort of salary doesn't get you far. At Simferopol he hopped out and off we went. Its funny that after 3 months of nobody except Jo, myself, Bob, my Ma, Jack and Sam being in TT, we had four alien passengers in 24 hours. Not to mention a man leaping out of his car at some traffic lights and kissing us both.

Believe it or not the Ukrainians appear to love TT more than the Russians. In the last few days she has been called a helicopter, an ant, a tractor and an apparition. When people ask where we are going and what we are doing they all say two things; 'klyass' (class I guess) and 'Malatyets!' which means 'Good girls', or something similar. They also press packets of cigarettes, fruit, veg and jams into our hands as gifts. What lovely people.

The drive here was uneventful, so I won't dwell on it, and at 7.30 pm we passed the sign announcing our arrival in Odessa. Unsure of where we were going we tukked towards the centre, past docks, train lines and autorepair shops. Then suddenly we were in the centre, with the famous Potemkin steps on our right and the towering Hotel Odessa on our left. Jo was instantly under the spell of the latter, a glitzy glass and steel affair occupying what must be the best piece of real estate in town. Although mentioned in the guide book we'd dismissed it as too expensive, but since we were tired and it looked big enough not to be full we opted to give it a try. Half an hour later TT was in her pyjamas in their parking lot and a porter was loading all our baggage. Yes the price was far too much but since we've been roughing it for a while we felt the sudden urge for white bathrobes, swimming pools and panoramic views. Thankfully the Hammam, pool, sauna and gym have made up for the fact that the room is identikit and Travelodge like and its basically a revolting rip off, but thats Odessa in the high season for you.

Jo and I had a late, luxurious breakfast this morning then set off for a potter round the city. The guide book raves about the Potemkin steps which are the location of a famous scene in Sergei Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin (1925). Not being an expert on B&W films I am afraid I hve never heard of it, and for me they were just a hot climb that necessitated a cold drink at the top. However, Odessa is as beautiful as its lofty reputation states. Crumbling, neoclassical buildings line the streets and well-heeled Odessans sip coffee in Parsian style cafes. Its a shame we only have a single day here and that today, at 39 degrees, it was a little too hot for extensive exploring.

Tonight we're going to hit Arkadia Beach, which is 'Ukraine's Ibiza' and crammed with 24 hour clubs pumping out house, D&B et al. No doubt we will feel underdressed, given the Ukrainian proclivity for very shortskirts and very high heels. Unfortunately I haven't got my Gucci heels stashed away in the bottom of my rucksack, so Birkenstocks it'll have to be.

Two more weeks to go till Brighton, and thirteen weeks ago today we left England. It seems so long ago.

Love to all in England and hoping to see a few of you in Brighton. xx Ants

PS We keep trying to upload photos but blogger.com is being a total pain and won't oblige.

PPS Just re read my last blog and its very dull, apologies, I was super tired when I wrote it.

Another tukking tantrum

2006-08-18T03:21:00.000-07:00

Tanya's House, Bakchiserai, The Crimea, Ukraine

The more we do this journey, the more I believe in fate. It seems that every time we need help a new Fairy Godmother (or father) appears and solves our problems. Yesterday was yet another example.

After several divine days of chilling by the Black Sea it was back to reality on Tuesday afternoon when we limped into Sudak with Ting Tong in a quest to get to the root of her latest troubles. As we drove into Vecolny on Saturday afternoon she began to dive ditchwards every time we braked. On the Crimea’s mountainous roads this was not a pleasant experience and we presumed it must be a recurrence of the caliper problem we had had in Balkash. Since TT’s front wheel is the same as a bikes we headed for a biker café we’d got word of in Sudak, hoping they would be able to point us in the direction of the nearest mechanic.

With Jo clutching our last faulty caliper we went up to a heavily tattooed biker who was hanging around outside the café with his madly painted 1962 German machine. Boris, as his name turned out to be, was a tattoo artist, bike fanatic and total dude. He said there was one shop we might be able to find a new caliper in, called Signal. If not then our only hope was Simferopol, 200km’s away, or maybe even Odessa, 600km’s away. But first he said he knew some good mechanics who could have a look at TT, and hitherto dispatched his friend / flunkie Misha to take us there. The ‘good mechanics’ turned out to be a very irritating bunch of lads, who I am sure were half cut, who acted as if they had never seen anything more hilarious than a pink tuk tuk. Apart from having extended hysterics and asking lots of puerile questions they did absolutely bugger all and ½ an hour later we tukked off, still veering dangerously to the right, none the wiser. Since Signal was now closed we had no option but to wait for the next day and try another mechanic we had heard about in our village. After supper with Boris – where he presented me with a silver ring from his collection - we headed home to Vecolny, having gained nothing but a bonkers biker friend.

Having had another insomniac night - frequent occurrences on this trip –we were up early yesterday to head into the village in search of the other mechanic, Tolmek. But Tolmek was away till that night, and we couldn’t afford to hang around all day and risk him not being able to do anything. Finding a new caliper in Signal was our only hope.

A hot traipse around Sudak finally led us to Signal, a tiny shop piled high with every sort of auto part you can imagine. Apart from calipers. The nearest possibility was Simferopol. We looked at each other and groaned. As the reality of our problem was sinking in a voice piped up on my right. ‘What are you looking for?’ it said in heavily accented English. I turned to discover the owner of the voice was a smartly dressed, good looking 20 something man. He introduced himself as Redvan, a mechanic. An hour later he was at our house, stripped down to pair of fetching satin shorts inspecting our sick baby. Despite our misgivings he soon ascertained that the problem was not with the caliper but with our front suspension, the right hand side of which was badly damaged. Boris had said the same yesterday, but we had dismissed his prognosis, convinced it had to be the same problem as in Balkash, five weeks ago.

If Boris and Redvan were right then our problem was even worse, since TT’s suspension is Tuk Tuk specific and we might have to wait up to a week while Anuwat sent a new set from Thailand. Jo was even considering how long it would take her to fly to Bangkok and back to pick up a new set. We stood in the blazing heat, smoking cigarettes, looking at TT and wondering what the hell to do. Redvan said he knew two people in Sudak who might be able to help.

Person number one shook is head and said he was busy for the next week, even TT’s special powers couldn’t persuade him otherwise. Person number two was Serva, who lived down a dusty track amongst half built houses on the outskirts of Sudak. Yes he said, he thought he could do it, come back in three hours. So Jo, Redvan and I went off to Redvan’s uncle’s café and drank coffee and smoked hookahs, waiting anxiously for the outcome. If he failed then we were in serious trouble….

Redvan, only 26 and married for four years, told us all about his people, the Crimean Tartars, and about Stalin’s terrible expulsion of them in 1944 where within a space of a few days he exported every single one of them to Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Siberia. Thousands died on the journey and although given an official apology by Krushchev in 1967 it was not until 1989 that they were officially allowed back to their homeland. Today about 12 % of the Crimean population is Tartar, but life is hard for them and many of them struggle against poverty and racial prejudice. All because of the whim of a single megalomaniac.

Full of coffee and Tartar tales we returned after three hours to find Serva putting the finishing touches to Tingers. A test drive would reveal if he had managed to mend her or not. And guess what, he had. Jo and I were so happy, we couldn’t believe it. He had managed to do a job that had taken ten men seven hours in Jinhong, China, the first time our front suspension went. Moreover he had never seen or attended to a three-wheeler before. We thanked him, thanked him, thanked him, thanked him some more, took photos of him and his wife and gleefully drove off into the sunset. Problem solved. Our evening was thus spent celebrating over a few beers with Redvan and his friend Rostom. Please please let it be the last problem Ting Tong has before we get home in two and a half weeks. If Redvan had not been in Signal at the same time as us goodness knows what might have happened. Thank you guardian angels for coming to our rescue again.

This morning we packed up, said goodbye to Nastya and Vova and the Tartar family we had been staying with; Ismail, Aisha, Gulya, Esme and Eleonora, plus their four dogs Naida, Akbar, Dinai and Puppy. I felt as sad about leaving them as I have about leaving anyone else on this trip and would love to come back here one day.

Its bedtime now so I’ll write about today, the cave city we visited and the lovely house under a mountain we are staying in now, next time. The Crimea is fantastic, we love it. You’ve all got to come here….. xx Ants

Over to Jo....

16th August, Smile Café

We have all had a slightly nerve jangling (to put it mildly) couple of days with TT.

Yesterday we went to Sudak to visit one of the last fortresses of the Silk Road. It is amazing that we first encountered the Silk Road i.e. Great Wall of China about 10,000km ago and now we were visiting part of its European route- what an unbelievable overland trip it must have been.

Nastia had told us that there was a biker bar in Sudak and so we visited them to have a chat about TT and asked where we might get a new brake caliper. They told us that we may be able to get one in Sudak or otherwise we may have to go over 100km to get one in Simferopol (capital of the Crimea). They also told us that they thought one of TT’s front shocks had gone. This was not good news as we didn’t have another front shock and they are tuk tuk specific parts only available in Thailand. One of the dudes from the biker bar came with us in TT to visit a local mechanic who they thought may be able to help. The mechanics were all quite young and they found TT hilarious. She ended up being hoisted a metre into the air to have her brakes bled. They thought she may have some air trapped, but unfortunately this didn’t solve the problem. They were unable to offer us anymore assistance with her braking issues and so we returned to the biker bar feeling slightly deflated. However, the day wasn’t a total disaster as we enjoyed visiting the fort and met a crazy Ukranian biker/tattooist/nutter called Boris, who had us in hysterics. He had a slightly freaky tattoo of Chucky from Child’s Play though. That has reminded me, Ants and I are thinking on getting Ting Tong tattooed somewhere on our bodies when we return.

The following morning we went into our village to attempt to track down a mechanic who had come strongly recommended. Unfortunately he was out for the day and the other mechanic in the village was also not around. So, our next move was to get a lift into Sudak. Basically, it is the same deal in the Ukraine as in Russia and Kazakh i.e. you hold out your arm and some random stranger picks you up and delivers you to your destination for a fraction of the cost of a real taxi.

Once in Sudak we located the shop recommended to us by Boris the previous day. We weren’t lucky with the caliper, but we did meet a guy called Redvan who became our saviour of the day. I won’t tell you the story again as Ants already has. Until TT was properly fixed I was trying to work out how long it would take me to fly to BKK and back! Now we are very happy and relieved and have had a really good day. Bed now as we have about 550km to drive tomorrow to Odessa.

Brown girl in the ring...

2006-08-17T12:28:00.000-07:00

14th August, Smile Café (Vecolny, Crimea)

We have been staying in a room with the aforementioned Russian punks in a village called Vecolny (which is translated as Merry in english). They are not really punks, just that they have a penchant for facial piercings, wacky hair and tattoos. The room is attached to the Smile Café and owned by a lovely Tartar family. We have spent a couple of very chilled out days on the beach. I stupidly fell asleep in the midday sun and ended up with a slightly pink back and Ants ended up with pink backs of thighs. We were both wearing factor 25, so we probably got off quite lightly. It was so nice to just feel like regular tourists for a short while and just relax e.g. eat lunch in a café on the beach and play backgammon, sunbathe etc.

We also managed to locate the naturist beach just around the bay from our beach. It was a real rock scrambling session and in 30C plus heat this turned into quite an energy sapping experience. The naturist beach was less of a beach and actually some rocks where people either decided to wear clothes (pecker checkers and beaver patrol) or chose not to (naturists). Ants and I found a reasonably flat rock and toasted ourselves. I now look less like a zebra and more like a polecat.

One of our new Russian pals is a girl called Nastia and she speaks fluent English, having spent a year in the states and four years in Holland. Together with her friends from St Petersburg they run a disco on the beach, which we went to last night. It was a laugh and I got far too excited by Boney M tracks.

Nothing much more to report, other than that TT has decided she likes to steer to the right when we apply the brakes. This same problem happened in Kazakshtan and we solved it by changing the front brake caliper. We met a mechanic today who says he can get TT sorted- fingers crossed as we don’t have a spare caliper.

Ting Tong's summer holiday

2006-08-14T09:16:00.000-07:00

Vecolny, The Crimea, Ukraine

Those of you who speak Russian might have noticed something funny about the name of the village we are staying in; it means 'Merry'. Which is fitting, since the three of us are indeed having a very merry time here. The sun is shining - almost too hard - the sea is on our doorstep and we have spent the last few days being deliciously idle on the beach. Apart from my rather hot 5.7 km run this morning our time has been spent horizontally, reading and simply soaking up the rays.

Its not that interesting reading about people lying on the beach doing nothing, so I'll keep it short. One thing I do want to say though is that Jo and I found out this afternoon that out of 16,000 entries we have made it down to the last 10 in Cosmo's 'Fun, Fearless Female Award' which is dead exciting. I think the final decision is in September.

We're still living with our Russian friends from St Petersburg, who are hanging out here for the summer running a club and putting on parties. Sleep doesn't seem to be on their agenda and they are very lovely and lots of fun. Check out their website www.osravers.com (Old School Ravers!) We went to a party they put on in the village last night and are tootling off to another one on the beach tonight.

Still loving the Ukraine, although TT's caliper issue is a minor headache which we have got to think of a way to sort out.

With love from the Sun. Ants x

Love at First Sight

2006-08-12T21:37:00.000-07:00

The Crimea, between Sudak and Yalta, the Ukraine.

We’ve been in the Ukraine for a mere 48 hours and already I am under its spell. The countryside is beautiful, the people wonderful and the nightclubs highly entertaining. I think Jo and I have got a great ten days ahead of us and as we tukked round the Crimean coast in the blazing sunshine today I felt the holiday mood set in. Although this journey has been unbelievable it’s also been fairly exhausting at times and for the next few days we are going to kick back, slap on the suncream and pretend we are just a normal pair of Brits abroad. Bliss.

Last time I put finger to keyboard was sitting in the back of Ting Tong at the border two days ago. I was a little nervous at what lay ahead as, since Jo has also explained, we had a little problem with our ‘dokumenti’. Unbeknownst to us the customs at Troitsk had only given Ting Tong a Russian passport till August 7th. We were exiting Russia on the 10th. Their mistake lay buried in the small print of one of the many vital documents we carry around, and had a policeman not pointed it out to us on a routine check the night before we would have had no idea. Now we could be facing serious trouble, through no fault of our own.

The problem was quickly spotted and, a la the Kazakh / Russian border, Jo and I were frogmarched into a small, stark room by an enormous, cross looking official. I didn’t fancy our chances. For ten minutes we were at an impasse, with me trying to explain that we had no idea why Troitsk had made the mistake, and him shaking his head and repeating that we had a problem. Then Jo whipped out a copy of Komsomolskaya Pravda, featuring an article about us written by our friend Evgenia in Almaty, and in an instant the issue of our faulty documents was dropped. He read and re-read the article, went and copied it, then came back and opened a large safe in the corner of the room, from which he produced a handful of Ukrainian Hryvnia and some Euros. As he handed them across the table he said that he understood about mental health problems, we both got the feeling he had either experienced them himself or knew someone who had. Whatever his motives, it was an extraordinary incident, and with our new friend in tow we skipped out of the office and into Ting Tong. After some photos and lots of thank yous the barrier rose up and we said Goodbye to Russia. We couldn’t believe it that at a second border crossing we had actually been given money by people who are notorious for exactly the opposite. What a brilliant end to our two weeks in Russia.

The Ukrainian side of the border passed without major incident and after six hours in Borderland we sped into country number Six. Since we were both dead beat after a night of camping and a series of insomniac nights in Volgograd we stopped for the night in the first town we came across, which happened to be Maryopol, a fairly large town on the Sea of Azov. When we found a hotel, which I can’t begin to remember the name of, I went in to investigate whilst Jo held the TT fort. The heavily made up, perfectly dressed receptionist took one look at my filthy T-Shirt and grubby Thai fisherman’s trousers and snottily said that they had no rooms, only ‘luxe’, i.e you can’t afford it so piss off. But since Jo and I had camped the night before and were in no mood for hotel hunting she had to eat her words and ‘luxe’ it was.

I went out to tell Jo the good news and found her and TT surrounded by a group of handsome young men, all asking the usual questions, with Jo looking perplexed and not understanding a word. Not taking no for an answer, they carried our bags up to our room, bought us beers and supper and then insisted we come out dancing with them. Both of us could think of nothing worse, we were shattered and pretty grubby and could hardly string a coherent sentence together in English, let alone Russian. But for some reason we found ourselves saying yes….

Half an hour later we were washed and downing our first shot of Vodka. An hour later we were at the Santa Barbara nightclub, with two bottles of vodka being planted in front of us and seven excitable Russians toasting England, Russia, three-wheels etc etc. Sasha, Vittya, Sergei, Alexei et al told us they lived in Novosibirsk in Siberia –where it regularly hits -40 - and were all metalworkers. Vittya, who had multiple tattoos and bullet wounds and shaved hair dyed leopard print, had spent four years fighting in Grozhny. From what I could understand the experience had affected him deeply. He was only my age and for the umpteenth time on this trip I appreciated what tame, easy lives we live in England. Sergei had multiple gold teeth and a bad case of wandering hands and Sasha was apparently married with a daughter but spent the evening looking lasciviously at Jo and dragging her off to dance. They also taught us an interesting Russian custom, which I still think they made up just for our / their benefit. Apparently its customary for two people to link their arms, drink a short of Vodka each then kiss each other passionately on the lips. To demonstrate that they weren’t having us on Sergei and Sasha shared a very unmanly kiss on the lips and then told us it was our turn……

At 2 a.m we staggered home, LOCKED the door of our bedroom and passed out. But not before Sasha and Vittya had begged to come in for a ‘nightcap’ and Sasha had been on his knees begging for ‘Diana’ (Joanna after too much vodka). What a funny and totally unexpected night.

Yesterday we awoke, feeling a little bleary but full of the joys of the Ukraine, and set off West for the Crimea. At about 6 0’clock, with a storm brewing in the distance, we pulled over at a ‘rinok’ (market) to get some veggies in case we had to camp. The vendors were all Crimean Tartars - more about them another time – and they loaded us up with every vegetable imaginable then refused to take any money. As we were exchanging phone numbers etc Jo said to one man ‘ Do you have email?’, so we could send him pictures. He let out a throaty laugh and said, ‘Internet? We have no money, only potatoes, how could we have internet?’ They had nothing yet had just given us so much. It was another one of those incidents that leaves you feeling humbled, incredibly grateful and wishing you could give something back.

I’ve written enough now and need to go to bed, so more tomorrow. We’re in a village in the Crimea, somewhere between Sudak and Yalta. No idea what it’s called but its got a beach and we’re sharing a house with some Russian punks from St Petersburg who we met in a café this afternoon. Xx Ants

Border issues and vodka

2006-08-12T20:59:00.001-07:00

11th August, North East Crimea (Ukraine)

We successfully crossed into the Ukraine last night after about 6 hours at the border. The Russian side could potentially have been a bit hairy, but thankfully it all turned out OK. For some strange reason, TT had only been given a 2 week visa for Russia, whereas our visas were for one month. We hadn’t realized this until we had been stopped by the police the previous day, who had noticed the error and informed us of it. They were cool though and suggested that we just go to the border and explain that there had been a mistake when we entered Russia at Troitsk.

When I last blogged we were waiting to pass through Russian customs and Ants had just been stung on her bottom. I did tell someone to F off in Russian, but Ants told me to say it and then immediately told me that I said a very rude thing. Basically, we had been waiting in a queue for over three hours and this cheeky bugger drove right down the outside of the queue in his Lada and pulled over just in front of TT. I was pushing her forwards rather than starting the engine to move a few metres and so he managed to sneak in before I could stop him. After I threw a wobbly at him, a babushka jumped on the bandwagon and he got so much grief that he had to go to the back of the queue or he would have suffered death by babushka bashing. You should have seen the look on his face when I said my rude Russian words- it was classic.

Eventually we got to the front of the queue and TT’s overstayed visa was discovered. We had to go and speak to the boss in his office and he seemed none too pleased with us. My heart rate had increased and I thought we may be about to get in big trouble. Ants was trying to explain in her best Russian that it was an unintentional error and that all the rest of our documents were in order. As we had nothing to lose I whipped out the Kazakh paper with our photo and article in it. The previously fierce officer read the article very slowly and carefully and then photocopied it. Then, he gave us some local currency and 15 Euros for Mind, before escorting us out to TT for a photo shoot. Goodness knows what affected him in the article, but something seemed to click- amazing.

The Ukrainian side was easier as we didn’t need a visa and had already purchased TT’s insurance. It was a bit frustrating when they wanted to check the Chassis and Engine numbers, because I cannot remember what part of the engine they are on- all I know is that they are not very easily accessible. Luckily, after about 10 minutes searching they got bored and gave up. So, we tukked into the Ukraine and headed for the nearest biggest city on the M23- not the lovely M23 that goes from London to Brighton. We were pretty pooped, having just crossed a border and camped the previous night. We decided to find a hotel in Maryipol and after a couple of false starts and getting a bit lost we found one of only two hotels in the city. We managed to get the last available room and our bags were carried to our room by our new Russian friends, Sacha et al. They had introduced themselves while Ants went inside to speak some Russki, while I sat in TT and tried to communicate in sign language and the few words in Russian I have heard Ants repeat endlessly. When I think I am telling them about our trip, I am probably actually saying that in Thailand they like tomato salad and bread and that in England I would like to drive on a road with macaroni!!

We decided to have a beer with Sacha and his pals, who were all from Siberia. A beer turned into supper, which then turned into an invite to the local nightclub to drink Russian vodka. Because Sacha had paid for our supper and beer, we felt obliged to say yes. We went upstairs and had a shower and changed, feeling like we had had the energy sucked out of us by a hoover.

We caught a taxi to Santa Barbara, a brightly lit venue right on the Sea of Azov- a sea I had never heard of until we arrived in the Ukraine. Then two large bottles of Russian vodka arrived, along with some cartons of orange juice, water and plates of cold meat, fruit and vegetables. This turned out to be a far more civilized way to enjoy vodka than just knocking back shots. Ants and I had quite enough, danced the night away and finally got a taxi back to the hotel at 2am with the world spinning quite rapidly. That is the first time I have been drunk on this trip and the most drunk I have been in over 3 years. That is not to say we got absolutely hammered, just that I drink only a few times a year. Vodka tastes to me like I imagine paint stripper to taste i.e. minging a la Jade Goody. If vodka wasn’t alcoholic nobody would bother to drink it- ask yourself this question, what tastes better, vodka or fruit juice? The alcoholics are all saying vodka and the non-alcoholics are probably agreeing with me, aren’t you…..?

We woke up the next day and didn't feel at all hungover. Both of our heads felt slightly wooly, but that was probably tiredness as much as the vodka. We packed up TT and headed south west to the Crimea at midday. The road had now become the M26- not the one in Kent. It always makes me laugh when we drive down roads with the same names as English ones, especially when they are so different. Contrary to what we had expected we were not stopped once by the police and the ones who saw us just waved. We finally crossed onto the Crimea after about 6 hours driving, only to be met by grey skies and the threat of rain. We weren’t sure if we would end up camping again and so stopped at some roadside stalls to buy fruit and veggies. The stall holders proudly told us that they were Crimean Tartars (long ago descended from Genghis Khan) and proceeded to give us two melons and a box full of delicious fresh vegetables, all for free. The generosity we have been shown on this trip is truly mind blowing and incredibly humbling. As we drove off it began to rain and there was lots of fork lightning. I worried about TT’s sparks and so drove like a true granny. We found a hotel at a café and decided to stay for the night, as we didn’t know when the opportunity for a bed would arise again if we kept going. A final strange point, there is a grey tom cat here who looks like my mum. I know that sounds weird, but that is the second time a cat has looked like my mother. In Laos a stone Buddha looked like Ants’ dad AKA ‘the biggest boffin in the business’!

Camping it up

2006-08-10T04:28:00.000-07:00

10th August Russia/Ukraine border

I am sitting here on the road next to TT while we wait in a queue of 40 cars to cross the border from Russia to the Ukraine. The sun is shining and we know from previous experiences with border crossings that we could be in for a long old day. Oh well, at least we can work on our tans.

Last night we camped just outside Rostov-On-Don, which I think is a very funny name for a Russian city. We were stopped by the police 5 times yesterday, which means I have lost my bet. I estimated we would be stopped less than 30 times in Russia and Ants correctly guessed over 30. I think the total now is 34. My prize as the loser is to pose naked in the Yi apron with TT in a public place. The photo will then be posted on this blog- aren’t you all lucky!!!??? Ants, as chief photographer, will try and keep the photo as decent as possible.

Camping was fun, as it has been all three times we have camped on this trip. Although we never end up getting much sleep, being outside in the middle of nowhere with just the birds and bees to keep you company is quite a special experience. Last night there certainly were bees around, because we camped near some beehives in the woods. Poor Ants was stung on her bottom last night and has just been stung again this morning. Up until last night Ants had managed to avoid being stung, whereas I have already been stung four times, including three times in one day. When we drive, TT turns into an incredible insect killer and every day we have to sweep up the detritus of dead bugs. The bee that stung Ants last night was already dead and so it managed to get its own back from the grave. I tried to be sympathetic, but when someone is stung on the bottom it is quite amusing- even Ants saw the funny side.

We ended up having to stay an extra night in Volgograd, because the camera that arrived from England had a problem with its focus. Ants took both cameras to a repair place and literally begged them to see what they could do. To our great relief, camera number 1 with the sounds issues was not as damaged as had been initially thought and they managed to sort the problem out. We were sad to leave Volgograd as we had turned our hotel room into a mini bedsit and had enjoyed relaxing by the Volga or in local cafes.

For once, the drive out of the city was well signposted and we were soon on our way to Rostov. One of our first police stops of the day made me laugh, because the policeman collected coins from China and Mongolia and once we explained about our trip he asked if we had any Chinese coins. We searched through our bum bags and were able to add a 1 Yuan coin to his collection.

Ants has just returned back from an office at the border with some bad news. Apparently they don’t accept credit cards for our Ukrainian insurance and we don’t seem to have enough money. That could mean a 50km trek to the nearest town- bugger!

Problem over- after ferreting around in our respective bum bags we have enough money, with only $0.5 to spare. She also informed me that she has been stung on the bottom again and walked off rubbing her left cheek (that’s the second time today)!

Hopefully next time we write a blog will be when we are in the Crimea, where Ants will be exploring the history of the area and I will be looking at rock formations. I am also on a mission to find a naturist beach in Fox Bay, so that TT can get an all over tan.

One more thing, TT’s spark plugs all seem fine now and she is driving like a dream. I am hugely relieved, because as chief pseudo-mechanic I would have had to start checking inside her carburetor and distributor and these jobs are best left to the pros. Changing the accelerator cable is about as skilled as I get. One more service before England now and we may be able to blag a free tune up from the Daihatsu service station in Germany if we’re lucky. For those that are interested we have now covered 15,370km from BKK. Only about 5000km left before England and hopefully TT will fly into the record books.

Borderland

2006-08-10T03:42:00.000-07:00

The Russia / Ukraine border between Rostov -on-Don and the Crimea

Another border, another pair of underpants, as Jo would say. After sixteen days in Mother Russia we have eaten our last eggy breakfast, been stopped by our last Russki politzia and drunk our last Russian Baltika beer. Now for country number six, the Ukraine, which lies merely a field from whence I now write. So near but yet so far; with 35 cars between us and the barrier we could be in for a long wait. But at least the sun is shining and we know that on the other side lies the Crimea with its beaches, Silk Road fortresses, cave cities…. and naturist beaches.

Jo, being a devout naturist, is very excited about the latter. She’s been trying to drag me to one since we were thirteen. The last time I was naked in public was at the Arasan Baths in Almaty, where the experience induced a panic attack and Jo had to lead me to safety whilst a gaggle of portly, unclad Babuskhas looked on. Whether I’ll be able to get over my fear of getting my kit off is yet to be seen, I may have to hide behind a large rock while Jo struts her stuff.

Our last night in Russia was spent in a field, watching a harvest moon rise over the trees and listening to a cacophony of insect life. Several of which stung and bit us. Once again the tent experience led to little sleep, but was most enjoyable although unfortunately I left our cutlery in Volgograd so we ate our pasta with toothpicks. There are few things more pleasurable than sitting outside on a warm summer’s evening under a full moon. It seemed an appropriate way to be ending Russia and Jo and I sat and chatted about the last two weeks and the three and a half weeks we have left on the road. Time is slipping by so fast and Brighton is looming out of the future at an alarming rate.

This trip has been like scaling a huge mountain. Our four month preparation was akin to galloping across the plains towards the peak ahead, leaving Bangkok the first step towards the clouds. At Almaty we reached the summit and prepared for the descent. Now I feel as if we are scrambling down the other side, with home just visible through the clouds below. I know that we still have 5000 km’s to go and anything could happen at any moment, but I feel as if we are on the home stretch now, and it’s a funny feeling. My friend Al wrote me an email yesterday in which he reminded me of Gandhi and his philosophy that there is no destination in life, only a journey. The only destination being death. As I lay in the back of TT yesterday I thought about it a lot, how doing this journey and getting home are all a microcosm of that Journey. When we cross the finish line in Brighton this journey may end, this chapter close, but then another chapter will open and the next part of the Journey begin. What that next chapter will be neither Jo or I quite know. As for Ting Tong, her next chapter will be co-habiting a garage in Brighton with eleven smelly ferrets. I don’t envy her.

Thanks to another five police stops yesterday and two today I won our bet as to how many Cop Stops we would rack up in Russia. Jo said under 30, I said over 30. Our final tally is 34. Jo’s forfeit is to pose for a photo for the blog wearing no more than the Yi apron. Ho ho.

Police were one of the things we were most worried about in Russia, but on the whole the stops have been no more than an excuse to have a closer inspection of Ting Tong. A cursory glance at our dokumenti is always accompanied by the usual tukking questions and disbelief that we have no ‘moosh’ (husbands) with us, are in a three-wheeled car and are going all the way to England. One policeman yesterday was a keen collector of coins so we added to his collection with some Yuan and Tenge. So far that is the only money we have had to hand over to men in uniform. At the next stop the policeman, half-joking, asked us if we had any ‘heroin, cocaine, narkotiki’. Yeah right. If a smuggler were to dream up the worst accoutrement to smuggling they could imagine Ting Tong would be it. Today however we met our first bad egg and it was quickly apparent that he was determined to extract roubles from us. He examined our documents, asked to see the engine number, bombarded us with tiresome questions, then marched off to the police station with our passports. But since our docs are perfectly in order and he could find nothing wrong we headed off in the direction of the Ukraine with our wallets and tempers intact.

All in all Russia has been a great experience. Rain, spark plug issues and technological hiccups have not dampened my enthusiasm for this country or its people. More than anywhere else the Russians have loved Ting Tong. Barely five minutes has passed on a Russian road without people laughing, shouting questions out at us, begging us to stop and chat, asking to swop cars and whipping out video cameras. Some classic comments have included, ‘What is this apparition I see before me?’ and ‘Is it a car, is it a motorbike, is it a tractor?’. Some Russians have also been just as surprised to see ‘Anglichankas’ (English girls). In Yekaterinburg one man lurched up to us, beer can in hand and said, ‘Eenglish, never before have I seen an Eenglish’ then just stood and stared. Most bizarre. Apart from the odd Communist fossil or sulky waitress I have found the Russians to be fun, positive, kind and welcoming – a far cry from the cold, hard stereotype we feared. Hopefully the Ukrainians will be the same.

Enough from me for now. The queue is slowly getting shorter and I need to go and have a snooze in the sun. xx Ants

PS Jo just told a queuebarger to ‘F*&K Off’ in Russian, then the babushkas joined in..now he’s reversed in a fury to the back of the queue. I hope he doesn’t hunt us down on the other side. Eek.

Our escape from Volgograd

2006-08-08T07:18:00.000-07:00

Hotel Volgrograd, Ulitsa Mira, Volgrograd, Russia

After an unintended four day sojourn in sunny Volgograd it looks like Jo and I will actually be heading south again tomorrow. The Ukraine here we come, referred to as our ‘last doggy spot’ by a post on this blog. I think the doggiest thing there will be the Polizia, we just hope they fall for TT’s charms as all their international counterparts have.

We arrived in Volgograd on Friday night intending to stay here for just the weekend. A new DV camera was being delivered to us on Monday morning from the UK so we had to wait till its arrival.

Monday morning arrived but the camera didn’t. After tracking it down to a depot in Moscow and pestering the staff at our hotel hourly we decided there was nothing to be done except head for the beach, again, and wait. If it had got as far as Moscow it couldn’t be too far away. Our patience and sun-worshipping was rewarded by the arrival of our package when we got back. Phew, we could hit the road again this morning.

But the courier company had obviously been a bit rough with the camera and having excitedly re set it and headed into town to do some filming last night we quickly ascertained that its focus was gone. I despaired. We’d already hung around in Volgograd for longer than necessary and although Dan at ITV very generously said he’d send out another camera, that would have meant risking wasting more time and potentially having the same happen again. I lay ahead for most of last night puzzling over what to do. Did we buy another camera here, risk another one getting sent out or find someone here who could fix one of our two cameras….today?

The last option seemed the only viable one so first thing this morning I was on the phone to Rudy in Yekaterinburg… could he try and find us a Sony centre here?? Of course he could – 10 minutes later he emailed three options and in a flash I was in a taxi to ‘Planet Service’.

A bevy of techys gathered round the two cameras, heads shook and the word ‘Nyet’ was repeated far too many times for my liking. But I wasn’t taking no for an answer. Somehow they had to fix either the sound on camera number one or the focus on camera number two. Today. After much cajoling Sergei, one of the overworked engineers, gave me his mobile and said to ring at 3.30 pm. He’d see what he could do.

And do what he could he did. At 4.30 pm I was walking out of the centre, having thanked Sergei, my new best friend, profusely, with camera number one intact. The relief. The gratitude. So now Jo and I are back on track, with all our equipment in tact, and ready to head home. I’m so happy, albeit a little tired from my sleepless night. Moreover, Chaz, my wonderful friend who is going to edit the footage we have shot, emailed today and said she’s watched the most recent batch of tapes we sent back and is really happy qith what we’ve got. Its so good to hear that all the effort we have put into the filming might actually pay off somehow.

Off to soak up the evening sun now and read my book, A Million Little Piecesby James Frey. Its one of the most compelling books I’ve read for ages, I highly recommend it.

Bye bye from Volgograd and more soon xx Ants

Success and sunbathing

2006-08-07T09:18:00.000-07:00

Volgograd 7th August

We have spent the last 2 days enjoying the sunshine in Volgograd and hit the local sandy beach with our uneven zebra tans. Actually, most of our tan had disappeared after the rubbish weather we had experienced during the previous 3 weeks.

To get to the beach we had to get a boat to the other side of the Volga. The beach was absolutely packed, not only with people but also with rubbish strewn all over it. A real shame, because it could have been a nice beach. We settled down for the afternoon and quickly forgot about the miserable rain and cold weather we had thought would never end. It seems that the weather here can be as changeable as back home.

In the evening we went to see Mother Volga, a huge striking statue that Ants mentioned in her previous blog. It was a beautifully clear evening and we enjoyed a spectacular sunset, while Ants explained to me the significance of the spot where we sat and the blood that had been shed during horrific battles in WWII. Why people still feel the need to go to war (including our embarrassing present government) I do not understand. Violence breeds violence and there can be no such thing as a just war.

Today we had expected to hit the road and head west towards the Ukraine. However, we were waiting for a parcel from England that did not arrive. We were told that we may have to wait for another couple of days and so decided to hit the beach again. As it was monday the beach was more empty, but that didn't stop us attracting attention from the local drunk. His name was Valeri and Ants suddenly forgot (intentionally) all of her Russian. Valeri indicated to me that I needed a manicure and he proceeded to try and clean under my fingernails with a biro, which actually just made them go blue. He also then took a grasp of my love handles and didn't let go until Ants and I both let out a yelp. We decided we had had enough sun and headed back across the Volga.

When we got back to the hotel we were thrilled to find that our parcel had arrived. Now we can hit the road tomorrow and should be in the Ukraine on wednesday. After a relaxing and sun filled weekend we are ready for another tukking week.

Is there anybody out there?

2006-08-07T01:31:00.000-07:00

Volgograd, 6th August

The tukkers are stuck in Volgograd waiting for some important post from England. Still, not complaining as it is very hot and gives us an opportunity for some admin and sunworshipping.

We enjoy writing our blogs and we are very happy if people enjoy reading them. However, I am nosey and would like to know who is reading our blog. If you are reading this then please could you post a little message after this blog to say hi.

Hope you all have a good week- 28 days and counting before we arrive home....

P.S. For those of you that hadn't guessed, the nosey one is called Jo! xo

A geek's tour of Volgograd

2006-08-05T07:06:00.000-07:00

The Volgograd Hotel, Volga Region, SW Russia

Mamaev Kurgan, Volgrograd

After 650 km's on the road Jo and I chased the setting sun into Volgograd last night, very tired but very happy to have got through another momentous day of tuk to the road. TT's recurrent troubles and a night of being besieged by monster mosquitoes hadn't helped our cause over the previous 36 hours and we were both looking forward to a weekend off in the sunshine.

Arriving in a big city on a Friday night was a novel experience for both of us. Having thrown off the shackles of the working week and no doubt already imbibed in the odd tipple, the inhabitants seemed particularly glad to see Ting Tong. Girls tottering across zebra crossings screeched drunkenly as we tukked past and a red sports car crammed with overexcitable Russian boys /men escorted us most of the way into the centre. "Russian boys...Eenglish girls...gooooood" they shouted hopefully, begging us to pull over 'just for two minutes to have a chat'. On the other side of us a minibus driver shouted questions at Jo and hence we drove into Volgograd blocking the three-lane carriageway, cars glued to either side of Ting Tong. Very funny.

For me Volgograd means one thing: the battle of Stalingrad. Fought between July 1942 and February 1943 it was one of the vilest and most vital battles of WWII. Had the Red Army not fought so doggedly against the Germans the war, and subsequent European history, could have been played out very differently.

But victory came at a terrible cost with at least 600,000 German troops and a million Russian lost in the fighting. Russian casualties here roughly equalled the number of Americans lost in the entire Second World War and by February 1943 the ancient city of Tsaritsyn (renamed Stalingrad in honour of The Great Leader) lay in ruins, not a building remaining intact. Walking round the city today, with its leafy boulevards, cosmopolitan cafes and swanky shops, its hard to believe that only 63 years ago such devastation was wreaked here.

In delicious, blazing sunshine this morning, after Jo and I had sat and watched a load of wedding antics by the Volga, I set off to find out a bit more about the battle, while Jo, suffering from a nasty Russian cold, retired to our room to recuperate. The only evidence that such a struggle occurred here is the ruins of a flour mill, left as a memorial to the battle. Otherwise the city has been entirely reconstructed. There is however an awe-inspiring memorial to the battle, Mamaev Kurgan, crowning what was known as Hill 102 during the battle, the scene of particularly vicious fighting. Mamaev towers over the city, 72m high, a magnificent memorial to the battle, as I stood and craned my neck up at the gigantic statue I felt a pang of sadness about the hideous loss of lives that took place here. It is said that even the Germans were shocked by the Soviet army's tactic of sending massed ranks of men towards the German machine guns, so their bodies would shield the troops behind.

Next stop was the 'Museum of the Defence of Stalingrad', which I am sure would have been a whole lot more interesting had I been well-versed in Russian military terminology. Not a word was in English (and why should it be), so I just pottered round and looked at the pictures, then headed back into the sunshine for a stroll along the Volga.

I know that I have harped on about history quite a lot in my recent blogs, but Russia, more than anywhere else I've been, visibly bears the scars of its tumultuous 20th century history. Whether its cities that were closed to foreigners till 1991 (Yekaterinburg, Samara), tanks and fighter planes on display in city centres, the Romanov remains or stern Communist statues glaring down at you in every city, you are never allowed to forget for long what has happened here since 1918.

Back to Samara...

The further we go on this journey, the more we believe that everything happens for a reason. Two days ago, as Jo has written below, TT threw a tantrum and wouldn't start in Samara. It was those pesky spark plugs again, revolting against the cold and rain. All we could do was wait until they dried out. In the meantime, Irina, a journalist I'd been in touch with for a while, rang me. She was keen to do a TV interview and after playing phone tag for the last 24 hours TT's misdemeanours allowed us to finally hook up. The interview went well and we had a chance to talk about Mind, mental health and the reasons behind our trip. Interestingly, she was the first journalist to ask about Jo's scars, which I find odd. Aren't journos supposed to ask pertinent questions?

After the interview the three of us had a quick lunch and a really interesting chat about Russian literature, mental health here and how the Russians feel about their communist past. Irina seemed hesitant to talk about the issue of mental health, saying that even though the Soviet era is long gone, journalists still need to watch what they say, particularly to foreigners. I've asked quite a few people here the same questions about mental health, and the answer is always unclear. Suicide rates are very high, self-harm is common, alchoholism and domestic abuse are notoriously rife, yet the provisons to care for those with mental illness are barely in place. Aside from that, no one seems able to tell us any more.

At 2pm, after lunch and our spark plugs had pulled themselves together, we set off down the P226 in the general direction of Volgograd. Six hours later we called it a day and pulled into our home for the night, a freshly harvested hay field near Saratov. Lovely as it was, the night was slightly spolit by the mosquitoes, who seemed unperturbed by the faact we were both coated in 100% deet. After a game of badminton, some pasta and a few beers, we snuggled down for a night of typically unsatisfactory tent sleep. I've yet to master the art of proper sleep when in such close proximity with Mother Earth. Since I burnt a hole in my inflatable sleeping mat the first time I used it, it offers little respite from whatever lurks beneath the groundsheet.

As I lay in my sleeping bag my mind strayed to the puzzle of the Romanov remains. As Heid Honcho posted the other day, if they weren't the Tsar et al's bones who were uncovered, then whose were they??? I concluded that the 'identification' of the bones in 1991 smacks of political spin and is suggestive of an attempt to discredit the Communist past and bolster patriotism at a time when the new Russia was throwing off the mantle of 73 years of Soviet rule. Any comments about this wild thesis much appreciated......

Jo and I are very relieved that the sun has at last got his hat on and come out to give some respite from the rain. Ting Tong says she's very happy too, and I hope those darn spark plugs won't give us any more jip from now on.

One final thing. We're going to land in sunny Brighon on Sunday September 3rd so start getting your glad rags on as we are going to have on helluva party. If we haven't died from exhaustion. xx Ants

Sun at long last

2006-08-05T04:02:00.000-07:00

5th August, Volgograd (SW Russia)

We have arrived at our last large city in Russia before crossing into Ukraine early next week. We are staying in the originally named Volgograd Hotel, which is a huge characterful building that has been restored to its original splendour after being destroyed in WWII.

We left Samara 2 days ago in the sunshine. The rain had decided to stop and Ants and I were thrilled to cast aside our ponchos and jackets to wear T-shirts again. Ants went off to get TT while I packed up and finished checking out. Ants returned after about 30 minutes with the bad news that TT had stubbornly refused to start. So, I stopped emptying our room and we both returned to TT determined to get her running. Of course I took my faithful 'Auto Repair for Dummies' with me.

We nearly got TT started, but in the end had to accept the kind offer of a pull start from a Lada. Drama over we drove TT back to the hotel. However, the drama was only 50% over as TT was misfiring like a trooper again as the old spark issues seemed to have returned with avengence. We decided to leave her in the sunshine to see if this would cheer her up enough to drive smoothly. In the meantime Ants contacted the local TV crew she had been in touch with and they came over to interview us. We gave an interview and farted up and down the street in TT, before parking her up again and heading off for lunch.

After lunch we went back to the hotel and loaded up TT. As we emerged from the hotel we were suprised to find a British hearse parked outside. It was a team from The Mongol Rally called The Hearse Flies. The aim of the trip is to drive a cheap car from England to Mongolia in a short space of time for charity- see www.mongolrally.com for more details. We would have loved to chat to the brave hearse drivers for longer, but were being shown out of the city by our new pals from the TV station and couldn't keep them waiting.

TT was led out of the city and seemed to be driving well again. We started the long drive towards Volgograd, planning to stop somewhere before Saratov and camp. In the early evening we pulled off the main road and drove about 1km into a field of newly harvested hay. I was a bit worried that we were tresspassing and might get in trouble, but our spot seemed pretty remote and we couldn't see any signs of civilisation. We parked TT behind a hay stack and set up our tent. We had been warned about the mozzies in Russia and Ants and I already displayed their successes on our faces, arms and legs. That field seemed to have an unatural concentration of large, fast and persistent mozzies, who attacked us until we finally retired to our tent a couple of hours later.

Ants set up the trangia and we had a typical camping meal of pasta and tomato sauce from a jar. Thanks to Ivan for finding us some meths, which is apparently illegal to buy in Russia. I couldn't taste a thing as I had caught a stinky Russian cold. After supper we had a game of badminton, before checking our emails and finally going to bed, covered in 100% DEET. If a local farmer had come accross us he probably wouldn't have believed his eyes- 2 foreign girls playing badminton in the middle of his field next to a bright pink tuk tuk.

We awoke the next morning to sunshine and another day of good weather. After a quick breakfast of porridge we packed up TT and tried to start her- can you guess what happened, she wouldn't start. So, we pushed her further across the field into a patch of sunshine and let her sunbathe. After about half an hour she did decide to start and we tukked off towards Saratov, with the intention of reaching Volgograd that night, some 600km plus away.

TT flew along for the first couple of hours but then started to misfire again. I checked that the boots covering her sparks were securely attached and found that one of them was not secure enough. She seemed a bit better but was still not driving brilliantly. We stopped for lunch and there happened to be a mechanic eating in the same cafe. We drove TT over to his garage and it was found that one of her 3 new sparks had already gone. They were all replaced again, thanks to the help of Rudy in Yekaterinburg helping to translate the problem into Russian over the phone for us-thanks Rudy, you're a star.

Off we went again and arrived here in Volgograd last night in the dark. It took us about half an hour to drive the 20km to the centre of the city and we were frequently flanked by cars and vans of jolly Russians, all relaxed and off for a friday night out. One of the cars was full of a group of rowdy young men who begged us to stop for 2 minutes to chat to them and told us that Russian men and Enlgish girls were good together. We politely told them it was late and we needed to get to our hotel and sleep. Thankfully, our room had already been reserved by Oleg (thanks handsome)and so all we had to do was find the hotel. This was not too hard and we finally arrived after one of our longest days on the road to date, exhausted but relieved to have arrived for a weekend of relaxation and hopefully some sunshine.

The famous Yi apron

2006-08-02T06:27:00.000-07:00

Not the Samara we had envisaged

2006-08-02T06:01:00.000-07:00

Hotel Zhiguli, Volgograd, the Volga Region, Russia

The Lonely Planet says of Samara, where we know find ourselves, that 'in summer the Volga's riverbanks are packed with bathing beauties, rollerbladers and beerdrinkers'. With this idyylic image at the ofrefront of our minds Jo and I left rainy Ufa yesterday feeling very excited about a day or two sunbathing by the banks of Europe's longest river. Such was not to be; as has now become the norm in Russia, I awoke this morning to the symphony of mosquitoes dive-bombing my head and rain hammering on the windows. Visions of spending a sybaritic day lounging by the river evaporated in an instant. And since Ting Tong has made it very clear that driving in the rain is not her favourite pastime (or ours) we opted to don our very fetching tropical ponchos and hang out in soggy Samara for the day instead. What a riot.

Yesterday was our longest day on the road for a while, and it seemed to go on and on and on and on....The countryside was beauiful and the roads passable, but nothing spectacular. The oddest thing was the endless police stops - eight yesterday. But whilst all our previous stops have included a demand for our 'dokumenti', all but one of yesterdays Cop Stops were simply to have a nose at Ting Tong and ask all the usual 'where are you going', 'Where are you from' 'aren't you cold? (YES) 'Where are the men' type questions. Furthermore, most of the police stopping us seemed to know the basic details of our journey, ie that we were travelling from Thailand to England. We suspect that this is thanks to the two policeman who bought us cake and chatted to us in a trukkers cafe at lunch, who then must have warned their cohorts further down the line of the pink oddity heading their way. We can now pretty much guarantee that at every police checkpoint that irritating black and white baton will wave us down as we try and tuk past inconspicuously.

I've discovered in the last 24 hours a peculiar paradox that exists in Russia, one of many I am sure. Our blog during the last week has been full of praise for the incredible hospitality and friendliness we have encountered here. But our infuriating, exhausting quest for a hotel room late last night, after 10 hours on the road, in the rain, was hindered by what I can only call xenophobia. The hatchet faced receptionist at hotel number 1, the digusting looking Hotel Rossiya, informed me VERY frostily that they had no rooms. At hotel number 2 I didn't even get past the door, where I was physically blocked from entering by a bad-tempered old goat who curled his lips in disgust at the sound of my foreign accent and told me that this was a hotel for Russians only. I tried to duck past him to verify this with the receptionist, but he barred my way and sent us packing. Hotel number 3 was the same, and Hotel number 4, the wildly overpriced Zhiguli, let us in. Jo and I objected to paying 3300 roubles (over 60 squid) for a room with no hot water, but it was either that or the pavement.

The highlight of today has been my visit to the Samara Art Gallery, a real gem, full of Russian Art from the 19th and 20th centuries. I know we are in Europe, but I was surprised by the strong European style of the paintings, the portraits of ostentatiously dressed aristocrats could have passed for a Gainsborough. Best of all were the Makovskis and the two Klevers, the latter dark atmospheric landscapes. If anyone reading this should find themselves in Samara I highly reccomend a visit.

Lastly, I want to add an appendage to my blog about the Romanovs from the other day. My father, the Biggest Boffin in the business, who has been to St Peterburg twice, wrote the following in an email a few days ago. "I have in front of me a four page article from the St Petsburgurg Times dated 17thJuly 1998 which casts a huge amount of doubt on the whole business. The most significant piece of evidence is that Tsar Nicholas was attacked by a madman during his 1891 visit to Japan and that his skull was permanently scarred. No sign of such a scar was found by the investigators of the Commmission of the Identification of the Remains established in 1993. At
the time of the reburial in St Petersburg nearly every leading Russian newspaper published articles doubting the authenticity of the bones." Maybe my next foreign sojourn will be a hunt for the Real Romanov remains....

That's all for today. I wish the bloody rain would stop because its getting boring. Hopefully this time next week we'll be soaking up some rays in the Crimea, where we have decided to re-route to in search of sun and extra mileage. Love to all in England and Carrie I hope all the wedding plans are going OK. GUTTED I am going to miss it xxx

Rain, rain, go away……

2006-08-02T05:52:00.000-07:00

2nd August, Samara (SW Russia)

It is 11am and I am sitting in bed listening to the deluge of rain falling on the windowsill outside. It really feels like we have been stuck in a typically bad English summer for the last 3 weeks. Neither of us expected weather like this and TT hates it even more than we do. After the episode when her sparks plugs got wet on the way to Yekaterinburg, we are now very wary of driving in wet conditions. Therefore, we will be staying a second night at the Hotel Ripoffski.

We left Ufa yesterday morning and it was my turn to drive first. Ufa is a very strangely designed city, being over 20km long and shaped like a dumbbell- it must be a total pain in the arse if you are a teenager and your best mates live the other end of the dumbbell. We followed signs to Samara and ended up on a scenic loop north of the city that added an extra 20km to our journey. We were driving along the M5 all the way from Ufa to Samara, but don’t think it is anything like the lovely motorway connecting the west country to the midlands. Actually, it wasn’t a particularly bad road. For the most part it was in good condition and we could drive at up to 65mph. On a couple of occasions the road had three lanes, but unfortunately the lanes didn’t have white lines separating them and so traffic had to decide where one lane ended and another began- fears of a TT sandwich quickly came to the forefront of my mind. There were large stretches of the road with only a single lane and because the road was very undulating, we often found ourselves stuck behind a huge truck, unable to overtake.

We beat our record yesterday of police stops and managed 8. Strangely, most of the police that stopped us knew we were traveling from Thailand to England. I can only assume they are somehow communicating and warning the next patrol unit to watch out for a strange pink vehicle. Only once were we asked for our documents. Ants and I have now had a bet as to how many times we think we will be stopped in Russia in total. I estimated under 30 and Ants over 30. At the rate we were going yesterday, Ants is likely to win the bet.

Yesterday was our longest day of driving in over a week and it seemed to go on and on. Eventually we arrived in Samara and attempted to find a hotel room. The first place was full, the second place didn’t accept foreigners and the third was thoroughly overpriced and we were told that all of the hot water in the city had stopped working i.e. they had problems with their plumbing. It was late and raining and we were left with no choice but to stay at the Hotel Ripoffski.

We were told last night that if we wanted a shower, we had to go and get a key from reception, because mysteriously one shower in the whole building was still working. I have just had to walk down to the shower on the floor below dressed in nothing more than a skimpy towel. I felt quite tempted to go down to reception and drop my towel, in protest at the fact that our bathroom is useless for washing and they are not offering any kind of discount for the inconvenience. Unfortunately for them I decided not to bless them with my naked flesh.

Last night we encountered a strange site. As we walked along the banks of the mighty Volga (Europe’s largest river) we both stopped in our tracks to stare at a large python wrapped around a young woman. She offered us ‘photo with the snake’, which we declined and instead opted to stroke the cold scaly skin of this impressive reptile. Thank God I wasn’t walking my ferrets at the time, although I am sure certain people might be thinking it would have been a good idea if I had been walking the furrballs- JM!!!???

Ants and I both feel a little strange at the moment. Personally, I feel pretty flat, uninspired and uninspiring. I am hoping it is just a phase and that I will come out the other side. Even though we are doing this amazing trip, it is not possible (I don’t think) to always feel happy and be having an amazing time. Emotions are something that wash over you continually, even though you may not want to feel a certain emotion at a certain time i.e. feeling below par even though there is nothing particular to cause the feeling. I have said it before, but I think the weather is having a huge effect on my mood. I hate the rain and when it is cold, grey and miserable in England I hibernate indoors. We cannot do that on this trip and have to carry on tukking regardless of the weather. I am not complaining, because I love this adventure. It’s just that sometimes my heart doesn’t love it as much as I want it to.

Crossing the Divide

2006-07-31T20:31:00.000-07:00

Hotel Tourist, Ufa, Bashkortostan Autonomous Republic, Russia

After four days off the road the traveling trio once again hit the tarmac yesterday morning to head for Ufa…and Europe. Under a leaden sky we loaded up a sodden Ting Tong and headed out of Yekaterinburg, Jo driving with Oleg in the back, and me with Rudy, filming our soggy exit from the city. We never even meant to go to Yekaterinburg, let alone to stay there for four days, but as Ivan, quoting Voltaire, said ‘Everything happens for a reason’. I don’t go for the full Celestine Prophecy version of nothing being coincidence, everything being some part of a pre-destined design, but I do subscribe to the attitude that many occurrences in our lives are more than simply an accident, and Yekaterinburg was a classic example. Jo and I went on a whim, deciding it sounded interesting and worth the 300 km northern diversion, and thanks to that whim we ended up meeting Ivan, Rudy and Oleg, all extremely lovely people, who did everything they could to help us and show us round their city. As we said goodbye to Ivan he said it was his dream to come to England, ‘To see Stratford-upon-Avon, and to perform the Tempest. But first I must be wise, for for a man to perform thees play, I think he must be wise’. Ivan, with his passion for Shakespeare, Voltaire and Irish Folk Music, is already wise, and it was a joy to meet such an unusual, intelligent person in the midst of a city we never intended to visit.

10 km’s outside of Yekaterinburg we came to the Europe / Asia border, where we parked up, took some snaps, and contemplated what had been before and what lies ahead. As I stood with one leg in each continent I thought of all the places and faces we have seen, all the extraordinary experiences we’ve had, and wondered what the next leg of Tuk to the Road held in store for us. I wondered how you can just draw a line and say that right there one world ends and another begins. Moreover, the Russia we have experienced has rarely felt even faintly Asian. The last time I felt we were truly in Asia was at Saryam Lake in China, amongst the nomads and yurts. Since then that Asian sense of otherness has faded, each day seeming more and more familiar, more European. But then again Russia doesn’t feel quite like the Europe most of us know, there’s an edge to it you don’t get in the Bois de Bouloigne, plus a hell of a lot more hookers and hummers. But it feels a very long way from NW China, where only a month ago we were sweltering in 40 degrees heat.

After our first lunch in Europe we said a sad goodbye to Rudy and Oleg and set off in the general direction of Ufa, not really sure of where we would end up that night. There was no direct road so after studying the Russian Atlas we decided to go the scenic route, dropping down through the Middle Urals and into the Bashkortostan Republic. Aside from the incessant rain, which we all have a strong aversion to, and the almost as incessant police checks, we had an uneventful drive through beautiful country. Not since China have we driven through such natural beauty. The road plunged, weaved and climbed through rolling green countryside, populated by Silver Birch copses, herds of grazing animals and an abundance of wild flowers. Freshly cut piles of hay dotted the fields and farm workers laboured with scythes, looking up in astonishment as we drove past. Occasionally we passed through a village of wooden houses, all with ornate, brightly coloured windows. Beautiful.

Five police stops later, at 8 pm, we came across a hotel and decided to call it a day, where I left Jo with TT and dived in to check it out. After the corpulent receptionist had finished getting her oversize knickers in a twist about the fact that firstly we were ‘inostranka’ (foreingers) and secondly had a curious vehicle that was ‘nyet motorcycle and nyet mashina’, we were allowed in. Twenty minutes and one beer later, Jo and I had acquired our next pair of Russian boyfriends, Roma and Zanil, both from Tyumen in Siberia. As we have both said before, Russians are wonderfully friendly people, sometimes the men a little over so, and its hard to sit anywhere for five minutes without being accosted by a potential suitor. Before long a third, slightly inebriated gentleman had come over to our table and was declaring undying love for Jo. It was 1 a.m before we finally got to bed.

This morning we set off, again in the rain, for the last 170 km to Ufa, capital of the autonomous Bashkortostan republic, home to the Muslim Turkic Bashkir people. We met our first Baskhir, Zoofar, last night, whom very kindly asked us to his sanatorium ‘bezplatno’ (free) - a kind of Russian shrublands. Although the idea of being pampered in the mountains for one day was very appealing, we opted to hit the road and head south west in search of the sunshine. Having spent the last week getting cold and wet every day we’re craving some heat, and have decided to re-route south along the Black Sea Coast via Odessa for a few days of sun, sea and surf.

This afternoon was spent tukking along a spectacular road across the heart of the Urals. Trucks loaded with German cars bound for Kazakhstan clanked past us and a constant line of bored looking babushkas hawked honey by the roadside. Although honey isn’t the most practical thing to travel with, we couldn’t resist and pulled over by the most needy looking babushka we could find to make a purchase. A Kazakh lorry was parked 20 metres away and I had a quick chat with the driver, who told me he drives back and forwards between Germany and Kazakhstan, 7000 km’s in 10 days. Poor man, I don’t envy his job.

As we turned Ting Tong onto the road a lady selling berries next door ran after us and pushed a large jar of raspberries into my hands, wishing us a good journey. A small gesture that is typical of the kindness of the Russians.

Its midnight now so time to go to bed…but one last anecdote before lights off. As we arrived at our hotel this evening a stumbling, red faced group of army officers lurched out of the adjacent bar. One of them, toad faced, middle aged more than a little tipsy, locked his eyes lasciviously on Jo and planted a lingering, sloppy kiss on her cheek. By the time I had got us a room five minutes later Jo had been fully groped, kissed repeatedly and proposed to. Evoking our imaginary husbands was no use at all and Jo and I had to dash into the hotel under the cover of our baggage to avoid further gropage. At this rate we could have multiple husbands by the time we leave Russia, should we wish. What a thought.

Bedtime now…Samara tomorrow….xx Ants

TT does it 5 times in one day!

2006-07-31T06:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we managed to get stopped 5 times by the police and today we were stopped twice. Mostly, they just want to see our documents and ask questions about TT. Even though Ants speaks very good Russian, when we get pulled over with that irritating white baton she speaks as much Russian as I do- NONE! Given that the weather has been incredibly English i.e. cold, wet and grey, we are starting to find these all too frequent police stops in the cold a little trying.

We left Yekaterinburg yesterday morning, driving in convey with Rudy and Oleg to the Asia/Europe border. We parked TT with her front end in Europe and her back end in Asia. It gave us a brief moment to reflect on how long we've been tukking and how far we've travelled. We left BKK 9 weeks ago and have travelled 13,000km. Being back in Europe has made us start to think about our arrival back in Brighton and we need to start planning for a big homecoming and work out quite how we are going to raise another 29K for Mind.

Saying goodbye to Rudy and Oleg was really sad and I cried. Even though we'd only known them for 4 days, we'd spent nearly every waking moment with them and become really close. If it wasn't for meeting them, TT would never had got to flirt with those sexy beamers, nor would we have been on the local news and been allowed to speak about our trip and mental health. It was also sad saying goodbye to Ivan, the first friend we made in Yekaterinberg, after we literally kidnapped him to show us where our hotel was.

On friday night Ants and I hit the tiles for ther first time this trip with Rudy and Oleg. They had managed to get us VIP tickets to a funky club in Yekaterinburg called the Snow Project. Ants and I had both been quite tired earlier in the day and had returned to the hotel for a siesta before even contemplating going clubbing. We suprised ourselves by managing to stay up until 6am. The club was full of glammed up young Russina girls and guys dressed in shirts and trousers- basically, everyone looked quite smart and Ants and I turned up in our trainers and T-shirts. We hung out in the VIP area all night, hitting the dancefloor a couple of times to throw down some shapes. Some of the people in the club looked (and acted) like they were high on more than just the music. The music was house, not garage and not uplifting garden shed- why the stupid names for dance music genres I really don't know. There was an English DJ playing that night and so Ants and I were introduced to him once his set had finished- he asked what we were doing in Yekaterinburg and I explained, before thrusting a busines card into his hand and telling him to read our website.

Last night we stayed at a sweet hotel in the middle of rolling hills and pine forests. It was a beautiful setting and we had a BBQ and chatted to a couple of guys visiting from Siberia. They came to our room and chatted for a bit before finally allowing us some sleep at midnight.

Russia has definitely exceeded my expectations and I would suggest that people come and check out areas outside St. Petersberg and Moscow. My only complaints are the Baltic weather and the overly- efficient traffic cops.

Photos Galore

2006-07-29T04:49:00.000-07:00

Dear All,

I know that there has been a serious lack of pictures on our blog. So here are a few that should sate everyone's photgraphic desires, taken by a friend of Oleg's here called Alexei. Just click on the link and enjoy...

Here are also two links to news channels / papers in Yekaterinburg who have fallen for TT's charms.

Love from us in Russia xx

NEWS

http://www.e1.ru/news/spool/news_id-272082.html

http://www.channel4.ru/content/200607/27/115.tuktuk.html

PHOTOS

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Raving with the Romanovs….

2006-07-29T04:17:00.000-07:00

Yekaterinburg, Sverdlovskaya oblast, Russia

Rudy and Oleg with Tingers, Yekaterinburg

A glaring anachronistic impossibility I know, but read on and all will make sense.

Jo and I are still in Yekaterinburg, where we’ve now been for four days. We didn’t quite mean to stay this long but since Russia is the first country we haven’t had to pelt through in a dash to make our visa and permit deadlines, we thought we needed to wind down for a day or two. TT is now happily fixed and purring like a pink pussy cat and we’ve got ourselves registered with OVIR, two essential chores we had to do here. Unfortunately the problem of the DV camera hasn’t been resolved and we’ve either got to wait here for three weeks while it is sent off to Moscow for a spare part, or see if I can get another one sent out from England. The latter option is far more likely.

Yekaterinburg is an interesting city, somewhere rarely frequented by foreigners and famous predominately for three things; the Romanovs were murdered here, Yeltsin was born here, and there was a spate of violent mafia killings in the early 1990’s. Furthermore, WWII turned the city into a major producer of arms and the city was closed to foreigners until 1990 because of is plethora of defence plants. Today the surrounding countryside around still hides a number of these plants – someone we met the other days father is the boss of one such place, which produces ground to air missiles from a factory deep beneath the ground outside the city.

With Jo engaged with her bevvy of BMW mechanics on Thursday, and my camera fixing errands over, I set off for a walk round the city to explore some of this history. The highlight was the grandiose Church of the Blood, built in 2003 on the spot where Tsar Nicholas II, his family and servants were horribly murdered by the Bolsheviks. The house where they died, Dom Ipateva, was destroyed by the then governor Boris Yeltsin in 1977, and today the exact spot is marked by a simple cross in the shadow of the gold-domed church honouring them.

The tale of the Romanov’s demise doesn’t make for pleasant reading. On July 16th 1918 the Tsar and his family were murdered by their Bolshevik guards, having been interned here for months in the wake of the Bolshevik revolution. For decades the question of what happened to the family after their death remained unanswered. Then in 1976 a group of local scientists discovered their remains near Ganina Yama, 16 km’s outside the city. So politically sensitive was this issue during the Soviet era that the discovery was kept quiet, and the remains not fully excavated until 1991 when the bones of the nine people found were tentatively identified as those of the Tsar, his wife Alexandra, three of their four daughters, the royal doctor and three servants. Absent were those of the fourth daughter, Anastasia, and their only son, Alexey.

In 1992, with the help of Prince Philip’s DNA (a grandson of the Tsarina’s sister) and the pioneering work of a British forensic team, it was established with 98.5% accuracy that these were indeed the Romanov remains. The full story of their ignominious end was then unfurled by a Russian enquiry.

According to this enquiry all five children had died with their parents in the cellar of Dom Ipateva. The bodies were then dumped in the aforementioned Ganina Yama, an abandoned mine shaft nearby, followed by several grenades intended to collapse the shaft and hide the evidence. The grenades failed, the bodies hauled out, and an acids expert summoned who, with 160 litres of acid at the ready, fell off his horse galloping to the spot, broke his leg and was unable to finish the job. The Bolsheviks, now in a bit of a pickle, decided to hide the bodies in a series of smaller mines in the area and pour the acid on them. But the lorry carrying them got stuck in a swamp forcing the bungling disposal team to bury them on the spot. They tried burning two of the bodies in preparation, then realized it would take days to burn them all fully, so opted in desperation to throw them all in a pit and cover them in acid. So badly did they do their job that the bones were still almost fully intact when unearthed 73 years later. What a gruesome end for Russia’s last Tsar and his family, who thankfully today have been sainted and buried at St’s Peter & Paul Cathedral in St Petersburg.

What I couldn’t understand on my walk was why within a km, both the Romanovs and Lenin, the leader of the Bolsheviks, are remembered. Like many Russian cities the main thoroughfare here is called Prospekt Lenina, and an austere statue of Lenin dominates the main square. Yet it was his party, his revolution, which killed the Romanovs, whom the city have recently gone to great lengths to commemorate. I went to see Kevin Lynch, the British Consul General, here yesterday and put this question to him. He replied that of course the Russians are aware of the contradiction, but Lenin is an integral part of 20th century history and what happened in 1917-18 can not simply be wiped from the history books. A fair and valid point of course, but I would be intrigued to find out more about how Russians today view Lenin and the Bolshevik Revolution.

Right, history lesson over…onto the raving bit.

Last night Jo and I hit the tiles for the first time in our nine week tukathon. We started at Tinkoffs for drinks with the British and American consulate’s gang, then headed off to The Snow Project with Oleg and Vadim (AKA Rudy…NOT Randy as I absent mindedly wrote before) Yet again, we’re very grateful for the help of the British FO, and thank you in particular to Kevin Lynch for his help and support – see you at the RGS on 12th December Kevin.

Jo and I obviously met the right boys in Oleg and Rudy, for we strolled into the uber-hip Snow Project at midnight waving the free VIP passes they had procured for us all - it normally costs 500 roubles to get in. I’d expected to go to a few clubs in Russia, and had heard that there were some decent ones, but never expected to find anywhere like this. After going though the obligatory metal detectors, everywhere here, and getting our UV stamps, we entered the most incredible main room, far more glamorous and better decked out than any British club I’ve ever been to. Girls with the most ridiculous pairs of legs danced on podiums and everyone was schnazzed up to the nines. Girls sashayed past in absurdly high heels, skirts they might as well not have bothered wearing, and make-up several inches thick. Enormous sunglasses and blingtastic jewels completed the look. And there were Jo and I in our jeans and trainers.

With Graeme Lloyd, from Turnmills in London, on the ones and twos, we all danced till 5 a.m, leaving as the sunrise was flooding the horizon red. Graeme spun some great tracks and we were introduced to him after his set where we had a quick chat before leaving him to two keen blondes. All in all it was a fantastic night out and Jo and I think we should make it the first of many nights out on the European leg of the trip.

Which takes me onto my next subject…Russian women. When on earth do they make the transition from tottering dollybird to doddering babushka? It must be overnight, for there doesn’t seem to be any transition between the two. Jo and I stick out like sore thumbs in Russia for the simple fact we lack three-inch heels, heavily dyed hair and a hefty helping of make-up.

I’d love to write more but we’re in a Wifi café now and the battery is running out, and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of a plug. Tomorrow morning we leave Yekaterinburg for Ufa, via the Urals. Tomorrow we will cross the divide into Europe, a strange thought. Home is almost in sight.

That’s all for now. Russia’s great and we’ll be very sad to say goodbye to Oleg and Rudy, who have looked after us like Princesses. Thank you guys. Xx Ants

TT the people magnet

2006-07-29T04:15:00.000-07:00

27th July, Yekaterinburg (Russia)

Ting Tong and Russian comrades in Yekaterinburg

It is the beginning of our third full day in Russia and I am writing this blog in our hotel room while I wait for a phone call from one of our new friends. Ivan is a local who we met at about 11pm the night before last as we desperately tried to find our hotel after a very trying day on the road. I will recap.

We left Troitsk two days ago with a special gift from the market. Ants had gone to the local market to get some food and drinks and also to try and find us some warmer clothes. She returned and on entering our room instructed me to put my cigarette outside and close my eyes. I though she had a pink anorak for me, or some other item of warm clothing, but I was confused as to why this may require me to stop smoking. I opened my eyes to a box with a pink towel in it, which I initially thought might have been some clothes. On closer inspection I found a baby hedgehog. Ants had come across a couple of young boys selling him in the market and felt obliged to buy him for 85 roubles (just over a quid). We named him Henry and gave him a saucer of milk to drink. Then, we had to smuggle him out of the hotel without the babushkas catching on to our little animal rescue mission. Henry looked in good condition, but we were very anxious that we didn’t want him to die of stress. As we drove through town Ants popped to the local market again to get Henry some meat; this consisted of a chicken wing, some sausages (which I ate) and some local pate, which looked similar to what we feed our cat in England. We hit the main road and turned off onto a farmer’s track and headed for some woods. Henry, Ants and I waded through a waist high wheat field and found a shady collection of trees far from the road and civilisation. We gave him some more milk and put the pate in his box. Henry wasn’t interested in hanging around to eat his lunch and scuttled off into the undergrowth, hopefully to a free and happy life.

Then began our nightmare drive. The weather was cold and windy and it soon started to piss down with rain. Big trucks and cars were flying past TT, sending torrents of water all over us and her. Anuwat (our tuktuk guru) had warned me that if it is very wet the spark plugs may get wet and cause her problems. Sure enough TT started to misfire, struggle and lose momentum. We pulled over and I had a real ‘oh shit’ moment. We were in the middle of two cities, with nothing really in between, it was pouring with rain and TT had semi-broken down. Some locals we had met earlier had warned us that on the road we might meet mafia and banditos- great. Furthermore, our phone had decided not to let us make outgoing calls and so we had to just hope that the rain would ease off and TT’s sparks would dry out, if indeed that was the problem. I pulled out my faithful “Auto Repair for Dummies” and had a read of all the info relating to spark plugs. I knew that we had about 10 spare spark plugs in the boxes on the roof rack, but I wasn’t too keen to start trying to change them by the side of the road in the pouring rain. Luckily, my dad phoned at that moment and provided much needed moral support. He told us to wait for about 30 minutes and then to try driving again.

It continued to rain, although with less intensity. We had no choice but to keep driving and I prayed that TT would be able to safely take us to our intended destination. She was still having some issues and could only drive at about 35mph, but at least she was moving. We finally arrived on the outskirts of Yekaterinburg at 10pm, but were initially delayed by a police stop, where our documents were checked and we were kept waiting for a good 20 minutes. This was the second time we had been stopped by the police that day and we were cold, stressed, tired and not really in the mood to make small talk.

TT had now started farting i.e. backfiring and Ants and I willed her to just get us to our hotel. We found the right street but could not find our hotel. We pulled up outside a shop that randomly happened to still be open at 10.30pm. Ants went inside to ask for directions and a guy came over to me and started asking about our trip- luckily for me he spoke English. His name was Ivan and he was a presenter for a local radio station. Ants asked him if he would join our search for the elusive hotel, which to our surprise he did. After a couple of phone calls and about 20 minutes we located our hotel down a small road that was well and truly hidden off the road that the hotel was meant to be on. There were no signs or indications that our hotel was a hotel and how anyone manages to find it is quite beyond me. We unloaded our bags and then set off with Ivan to find a secure place to park. After a couple of tries we managed to persuade a security guard to let us park TT outside his hut for 60R a night. Relieved, hungry and tired we then ended up in a Belgian restaurant with Ivan, eating Greek salad and drinking beer at gone midnight. We then returned to our hotel and hit the hay.

The following morning we had a bit of lie in and then headed into town to register our visas (compulsory for tourists in Russia within 3 working days of arrival). We initially went to the wrong place and eventually arrived at the correct office with only 30 minutes to spare. As we tried to register our visas we were informed that it would not be possible because first we had to go to the state bank and pay 1R for each of the days that we planned to be in Yekaterinburg. As the office was soon closing we would have to wait until the Friday to register our visas. This meant that we would be a day late registering and may end up having to pay a $50 fine each- hopefully we can work some TT magic and escape unpunished. Ants and I had no idea that these complicated rules for registering existed and we didn’t where the state bank was. Luckily for us we had got chatting to a lovely couple who offered to take us to the bank and help us. Christina was a local and she was with her Turkish boyfriend, Elich, who needed to get his visa registered. They had been dating for two years and met through an internet chat site. Christina showed us to the bank and helped us to fill out our forms in Russian, before we paid the cashier 6R each- whether this makes sense or is economically profitable for the Russians I will let you be the judge!? We then went out for a drink and had a long and interesting chat with our new friends about Turkey, Russia and life.

We then went to an internet café where a random coincidence occurred. Ivan had written on a local internet site about meeting us and some other people that had seen TT had also posted blogs. Two guys, Rudy and Oleg, had read the posting and decided to try and find us. The first internet place they walked into happened to be where we were doing our blogs and checking emails. They asked us if we were driving a tuktuk back to England, to which we replied that we were. They then told us that we had mechanical problems with TT and we were both thinking ‘how the hell do they know”. Ivan had mentioned that TT had some problems with misfiring. What a small world. Oleg and Rudy both spoke nearly fluent English and we went off for a walk, drink and meal with them. Oleg had spent the last 4 years abroad studying and Rudy had worked in the states. Later that evening they walked us back to our hotel and pointed out some of the local sights. They told us they could help find a mechanic for TT and we swapped numbers.

The following morning Ants went off to try and fix the video camera and I went off to get TT fixed. Ivan came over and said he knew a mechanic but the guy didn’t have a phone number. About 30 minutes later Rudy and Oleg arrived with their friend who was a keen photographer and also knew a good garage that dealt with BMWs. We went to pick up TT and I then discovered that she was missing a bolt from under the housing for the accelerator cable and also that one of the screws that secured the cable was loose. This meant that the accelerator pedal didn’t return to its proper position after being fully depressed.

Alexei (Oleg’s friend) led the way in his BMW and we arrived at a very professional garage full of smart beamers. TT could hardly contain her excitement at being in the company of such attractive, powerful and sleek cars. I explained about the problems with the accelerator, spark plugs and windscreen wiper (which was misbehaving and had developed a mind of its own) and it was translated into Russian. I got out three new spark plugs and the mechanics set to work, promising that they would let me know when it was time to change the spark plugs. Meanwhile I relaxed upstairs on a leather sofa watching National Geographic and playing with a black kitten, which the guys informed me couldn’t understand English!

Alexei and Ting Tong with her BMW friends

I was fetched to see the old spark plugs and watch the new ones being inserted. The old ones were coated in black muck and I was told that they were bad. They thought this was probably caused by the fuel quality we have had during our 12,000km drive from Thailand. They showed me how to insert new ones and I watched carefully, in case the need arises for some DIY on the road mechanics relating to spark plugs. TT started first time with her new plugs and revved happily. Then it was time for a quick photo with all the mechanics, who then refused any payment for their services- what total dudes.

We headed back into town and stopped to get some petrol. Oleg phoned up a local news station and they agreed to come and film us when we arrived back in town. I tried to track down Mr Ant but she was still ferreting around town. After a quick pizza we met the TV crew and they interviewed me, Rudy and Oleg, before filming TT driving around town. They found the bottle of vodka that Ants had been drinking and I had to hold it up to the camera, as well as my mechanics book and a Russian map that I couldn’t read.

Tuk to the Road PR over and we went back to the hotel and met up with Ants, who had been for a jog. After a quick shower we headed out for supper and some drinks and a bit of sightseeing. Apparently we were on the news at 8.30pm, but we were out and I didn’t have to worry about seeing myself on camera. Back in the hotel now and I am sitting in the shower room writing this blog. I need to get to bed as it is 1.30am and we have an early start. We are splitting up again, with Ants off to the British council and me to get our visas registered. Then around midday we are meeting Ivan for a radio interview.

I am very pleasantly surprised by Russia, although I didn’t really know what to expect. It is an interesting place, the food is good, the cities attractive and most importantly the people are great. Goodnight.

What a relief

2006-07-26T06:32:00.000-07:00

25th July, Troitsk (Russia)

At last we have made it to Russia and despite the Kazakh/Russian border taking 9 hours to cross, we both feel incredibly relieved to be here and are looking forward to exploring a new country.

We both hoped that our night under the stars in the wood would be our last in Kazakhstan and that we would be able to make it to the border that day. The roads and adverse weather conditions (very windy) made this impossible and so our last night in Kazakh was spent in Kostanai, just over 100km from the border.
Camping was a special experience and we are both proud to say that we have now camped in Kazakhstan. The sun set over the wheat fields and we were in such a remote area, with just the trees and birds for company. We were undisturbed by people or animals in our tent, but kept from sleeping well by the freezing temperatures. Neither of us were prepared for the cold temperatures we have experienced in Kazakhstan, particularly after we had been told to expect temperatures in the mid 30s from our guidebook. I ended up curled into a tiny ball in my tropical quilt, wishing that instead I had an arctic quilt. We finally extricated ourselves from our tent at 8am and luckily the embers were still going in our fire, so we threw on some more logs and tried to warm ourselves. We packed up our kit and loaded it onto TT and I jogged in front to tell Ants if she had enough head clearance for TT’s roofrack. Due to our lack of cold weather gear we were both dressed in a random collection of layers. This included our bright green tropical quilts (that made us look like caterpillars) and our tropical ponchos (that made us look like green bogies). I also wore my apron and my SARS mask from China. As I trotted out of the wood with TT and Ants in tow we met a bunch of trukkers on the road, who must have thought they were hallucinating.

Our drive north towards the border that day was pretty unpleasant. It was cold, windy and sometimes rained. The road was pretty crap and we wondered if we would ever see civilization again. I was also worried about where we would be able to get petrol. Eventually we came to a settlement and managed to get petrol and a snack at a roadside café. I really don’t know how people live in such remote bleak areas, especially when the weather is mixed in the summer and freezing cold in the winter. I don’t know if it is because I am English, but bad weather gets my spirits down and that drive really ground down my mood.

After driving all day we had to accept that we would be spending another night in Kazakhstan and so found a hotel in Kostanai. Actually, a kind local showed us to a nice hotel as we drove behind him. The only issue was that TT was too high with all her spare parts to fit into the secure parking area of the hotel. This meant that all of the boxes on her roofrack had to be untied and removed. I could pretend that we did this ourselves, but we had the help of a couple of strong Kazakh men.

So, yesterday morning we woke early (7am) and tukked towards Russia. The road was initially good, but then deteriorated as the main road was under construction and we had to travel along a stony dirt track running parallel. At one point we saw cars driving down the main road and we decided to copy them. So TT climbed up a sandy track and we hit the new tarmac, smugly flying past all of the other vehicles. However, we soon realized why everyone wasn’t driving on the new main road. Our path ended up against a 4ft pile sand barrier and TT put her tailpipe between her wheels and we tukked back. I tried to find a short way down, but this ended up with TT nearly being grounded on a (too) large hump.

We arrived at the border after 4 hours on the road and had a bite to eat before joining the queue of cars. Ants went off to do some paperwork and I sat in TT trying to communicate with the locals. The queue wasn't that long, but it moved at a snail's pace and it took us the best part of two hours to move about 15 car lengths. Our visas were 4 days out of date and we knew that we could be in for a bollocking, or worse. The first two checkpoints made no comment and we thought we had got away with it. The passport control booth spotted our misdemeanor and our passports were carted off to another building. Ants was asked to sit in a room on her own while I sat outside in TT. She reported back to me later that the first guy told her we would have to go back to Astana to sort out our visas. Astana was at least a 2 day drive away and we knew that even if we did return there it would not be possible to extend our tourist visas. We presented our newspaper articles and the guards took a shine to TT. Eventually, they stamped our passports without so much as a word of warnind and we tukked to no man's land between the 2 countries. To enter the Russian side we again had to wait in a queue of cars for a long time. Finally we passed through and then had to sort our customs declaration forms and TT's documents and insurance. We had hoped to get to Chelyabinsk (200km away) that night, but as we didn't leave the border until gone 10pm we decided to go to Troitsk instead.

We arrived in Troitsk in the dark and attempted to find a room for the night. The first place said they were full, even though Ants had seen not a single person inside the hotel. The second hotel was also full and we were beginning to think that another night al fresco may be necessary. The third hotel we tries had a spare room, but if we had not been helped by a local they may have again stated that they were 'full'. I don't think they see many western tourists in Troitsk. We devdied to have some supper before bed and sat in a restaurant that contained a DJ and a couple of very drunk locals throwing some great moves in the dancefloor. They tried to encourage us to dance and even attempted bribery by beer, but we were too knackered. We went ot bed reliebed to have crossed into a new country trouble-free.

From Russia with love

2006-07-26T06:28:00.000-07:00

Yekaterinburg, Russia

I know, the title is a terrible cliche, but sometimes cliches are hard to resist - and Jo and I were so relieved to make it into Russia late on Monday night it was love at first sight.

On Monday morning, after a rocky 200km drive from Kostanai in NW Kazakhstan, we tukked up to the Russian border at Troitsk, 200km south of Chelyabinsk. We had every reason to be a little nervous since our Kazkakh visa had expired four days previously. Earthquakes, mechanical problems and bad roads meant that we'd been unbale to keep to the tight two week visa issued to us three months ago in the UK..and its almost impossible to extend tourist visas in Kazakhstan. So we were just going to have to smile angelically and hope the guards were in a good mood.

Things started well. In the shadow of three colossal factory chimneys belching black smoke across the plains, we pulled up at the back of a small queue of (mainly) Ladas. Jo insisted we behaved well and didn't do our usual habit of queue-barging since, as she said, we didn't 'want to draw any attention to ourselves'. Considering the nature of our vehicle I thought this was fairly impossible, but complied anyway. Fistful of documents in hand, I walked into the small wooden hut by the barrier where a woman with scarily dyed red hair was busily stamping documents and a man was snoring noisily in the corner. A faint whiff of vodka hung in the air. Ten minutes later I was gone, clutching more documents and feeling very relieved that she hadn't noticed the little problem of our invalid visa. It seemed that all we had to do know was wait until, car by car, we were let through the barrier to passport control.

Three hours later we were through to the next stage, where Jo and TT waited while I went to meet our fate at passport control. A surly looking man said 'zdrasvitzye' through the small window and took our passports, while I gave him my most winning smile. It didn't work. Within a nanosecond the window was abruptly slammed shut and the man disappeared into another building across the road. We were in trouble. Two minutes later he and another guard reappeared and summoned me into a small, drear room where a number of officials came in and questioned me about why we were late exiting the country. I gulped as one of them told me glumly that we had a 'bolshoi problem' and would have to go back to Astana to validate our visas. Considering it had taken us over two days of hellish driving to get from the capital this was a most unappealing option.

Yet once again the Gods were on our side. No one it seems can resist the charms of Ting Tong and I was soon told that we could go...not even a fine. Unbelievable. Here we were in Kazakhstan, a country notorious for corrupt officials dying to extract dollars from all and sundry, we had every reason to be fined and beaten, and we were about to sail through to Russia without even a telling off. As we were leaving the hut we saw the other side of the coin however. Three Turkish men were engaged in heated conversation with the same group of officials who had been so lenient with us. The youngest of the Turks came and spoke to us, furious that they were being forced to pay money for no reason. They'd driven from Ankara to here, and no where else had they experienced problems. I guess we were very, very lucky indeed.

It was 5.30 pm by the time we tukked across the border, waving goodbye to Kazakhstan and hello to Russia. Only Ladas, barriers and wooden huts stood between us and the biggest country in the world. Once again I took our documents and headed for the barrier hut where I was greeted by Anatoly Konstanteenovich Lookanov, the lone guard on duty. His green eyes were full of mirth as he looked through the documents, asked about the journey and tried to decipher TT's Thai registration documents. So fascinated was he by the sight of this rare Thai species that he left the confines of his hut and came for a closer inspection, joining the gold-toothed crowd that had gathered in my absence, and creasing with laughter at TT's three-wheels and hot pink paintwork.

More waiting.... for another three hours we sat in the queue, making friends with everyone, letting all the children have a TT experience, letting people take pics...until finally the barriers opened and the whole queue of cars was ushered through to passport control. The end was in sight - and within 10 minutes we had all the right stamps and were heading for the door. Until we remembered the small matters of insurance for Ting Tong and the dreaded 'deklaratzia'. Insurance was easy enough, once the bleached blonde assistant had got over the shock of the Thai papers, but the deklaratzia took us an agonising extra two hours to finalise. In short, a deklaratzia is a vital piece of paper for anyone coming into Russia. If you don't fill it in correctly and get all the right stamps, you are liable to get all your money and equipment confiscated when you leave. This would have meant losing cameras, laptops, BGAN's etc etc - not an option. As Dimi, the 26 year old guard, was filling out our deklaratzia for the eighth time I asked him if many English people came through this border. He screwed up his face and thought hard, "In May we have a Holland, and in February we have two Australians, I can't rememeber Eenglish here". No wonder it was all taking so long.

At last, at 10.30 pm, in the dwindling light, we walked out to TT and into Russia. Five or six guards came over to ask questions and send us on our way, and ask casually if we had any drugs on us. After drawing us a map to a hotel in Troitsk, the nearest town, we were off. What relief, what a day.

But it wasn't over yet.

In Troitsk, 30 km from the border, we drew up outside the aforementioned hotel, a grandiose mansion in the early stages of decrepitude. The receptionist shook her head, they were full. Yeah right I thought, a huge hotel like this full on a Monday night. We'd heard that some Russian hotels can be unwilling to take foreigners, a hangover from the Soviet era, and I am sure it was this unwillingness rather than a genuine lack of rooms that was the reason we were turned away. The same thing happened at the second hotel and Jo and I started to wonder if we might have to pitch our tent on the pavement. But thank goodness hotel number three, the 'Gostiniza Kaspi' said yes, they had one room left. Phew.

At 11.45 pm, tired, grubby and much in need of tipple and tiffin, we sat down for supper in the hotel restaurant. Our only fellow diners were three very drunk men in one corner, and a pair of heavily made up, fairly drunk 30 something women in another corner. It wasn't long before we were spotted by the former, and subsequently accosted, whilst a DJ appeared out of nowhere and put on hideous, earsplittingly loud eurotechno. Having successfully used having supper as an excuse not to join our prospective paramours - Mikhail, Dimitri and Alexei, they retreated to the dancefloor and began throwing some serious shapes and blowing kisses in our direction. Very funny. They soon returned however, to propose that they be our boyfriends in Russia - despite the fact they all had wedding rings on and Jo and I both said we were married. We've been warned this might happen a bit here...

At 2 a.m we crashed into bed, elated to be in Russia and looking forward to the next stage of the adventure.

Tuesday 25th July

The next morning I awoke early and left Jo snoring in bed to go and investigate the local market. We'd been so paralysingly cold in the last few days I wanted to find us some warm clothes so we wouldn't have to drive in our sleeping bags.

Two hours later I returned not with any warm clothes, but with a baby hedgehog, called Henry. I'd found Henry in the market, being sold by two mischievious little boys who'd caught the unfortunate beast the day before. Henry looked very unhappy in his little box, being prodded by passers by, so the only solution was to rescue him and think about what to do with him later. He was SO sweet, with beatly black eyes and a long twitchy nose, it was tempting to secrete him in TT, give him some goggles and bring him back to England with us. But of course this wasn't possible and two hours later we released him in a silver birch copse in the middle of some farmland, where he scuttled off into the undergrowth without even a wave goodbye.

Our destination that day was Yekaterinburg, about 400 km north west of Troitsk. The roads were good and we banked on being there in time for supper. But at 3 pm the heaven's opened. Anuwat warned us to be careful in the rain and that Ting Tong's spark plugs wouldn't be happy if they got wet, but we'd always been OK before and we carried on driving through the rain at a sedate 40 km/h. Anuwat's wise words soon became reality and TT began to splutter in an unseemly manner. It wasn't until 11 pm that we finally made it here, to Yekaterinburg, having crawled along in the rain at 40 km/h for the last 150 km's with TT choking and backfiring.

We've only been in Yekaterinburg for 36 hours and once again Jo and I have been overwhelmed by the kindess of strangers. Whilst fruitlessly searching for our hotel late on Tuesday night we met Ivan, a local radio presenter who speaks very good English. Without him we would never have found the 'Gostiniza Academia Geologia', tucked away on a dark side street behind Prospekta Lenina. Nor would we have found a safe place to park our three-wheeled friend. Ivan, a philosophical, highly intelligent 31 year old, was fascinated with our trip and went home and posted all about it on a website read by people here. Amongst those who read the sight were two 21 year old boys, Oleg and Vadim, who, with nothing else better to do, decided to go and search for the 'tuk tuk girls'. So here we were, in a random little internet cafe yesterday evening, when two (very handsome indeed) boys came over and said "Are you the two drving the pink car to England?". By total chance they had come to this cafe to use the internet and track us down, and here we were. Extraordinary -Yekatinburg is a big city with 1.4 million inhabitants and they had stumbled opon us by total chance. Even funnier was when they showed us the website Ivan had posted on, with a long thread all about the funny pink car that had been spotted last night coming into the city. Oleg and Vadim knew exactly where we had been, where we had got lost, where we had parked to ask directions...just from the replies to Ivan's posting.

Thismorning Jo has gone off to get TT seen with Ivan, Oleg and Randy, by a mechanic found by Ivan through his posting, and I've gone off to take our DV camera to the Sony service centre and do internet chores. The little bugger (excuse my language) has an audio problem which might not be fixable. I don't even want to think about it and I begged to engineer at the centre to to his very best to sort it out.

This afternoon we're going to check out some of the city and go and see the Bloodhound Gang with Oleg and Vadim tonight. I have no idea who they are, but Jo and the boys seem very excited and assure me they are some hot American group. Jo described them as the music the US troops in Iraq like to drive their tanks around to - sounds grrreat.

Ever since learning Russian at school its somwhere I have always wanted to go and I am really excited to be here. My Russian teacher, Mrs Ainsworth (she'd married an Englishman hence the surname), seemed determined to paint as bad a picture as possible about her homeland to her three pupils, and delighted in showing us videos about the Aral Sea, Chernobyl and glue-sniffing kids in Moscow. But then it was the early 90's when Russia was painfully emerging from the mantle of Sovietism and the fistfuls of roubles Mrs Ainsworth would show us in class wouldn't even buy a loaf of stale bread. But the gargantuan size of Russia and its epic history has always fascinated me and I think it will be one of the highlights of the trip. The driving is a bit hairy, but then so was it in China and Kazakhstan. By the time Jo and I get back to England we'll probably have caught a host of bad road habits.

That's enough for now I think - sorry its so long but we just havn't had a chance to post in the last few days and so much has happened I didn't want to miss anything out. Apologies also to all those who have sent me lovely emails over the last few weeks who I haven't yet replied to - Alice S, Jemila, Charlie, Lara G... thank you so much and I will reply when we have a moment. Love to everyone in England and send some sunshine our way xx Ants

A very quick blog from Russia

2006-07-26T01:33:00.000-07:00

Yekaterinburg, Russia

A very quick one to say Jo and I are In Russia....in Yekaterinburg to be precise. We have masses to report but are running around today getting a new phone, getting DV camera fixed, getting TT fixed, registering with OVIR before they arrest us... so will both do a megablog when we have a moment. xx Ants

The rocky road to Russia

2006-07-23T20:38:00.000-07:00

22nd July, a wood in the middle of nowhere, NW Kazakhstan

Jo...

We left the peaceful Lake Tenghiz and headed back towards Astana. We woke to clouds and temperatures normally experienced during an English summer. During our 12 days in Kazakhstan the weather has generally been a bit on the pants side. Our guidebook warns that Kazakhstan at this time of year is uncomfortably hot e.g. 36C and above. I think they might be talking about a different country, because bar a couple of beautiful sunny days it has been cloudy with drizzle and a few sunny spells. We stopped off to get petrol and food on the way. At the shop we bumped into Nikolai, the dude who allowed us into the park at 10pm the other night. He met us with huge smiles and asked to come back to England with us in TT- this is quite a frequent request. He wanted me to get together with his 18 year old son and when I told him I was engaged he suggested throwing the ring away and marrying him instead. Next was the petrol station, my least favourite hangout in Kazakhstan. The petrol was 50% more expensive than anywhere else. We got the feeling we were being ripped off, but perhaps the remoteness of the station pushed up prices, although I am not convinced. There were lots of very pissed locals there and they decided to join in the fun of TT’s mealtime. I think we only lost about 10% of our 10 litres to the petrol forecourt this time. One of the locals then decided to hide our keys, which he finally produced much to our annoyance. We got in TT and drove off quickly, because the men were all a bit drunk and creepy.

During the drive back it started to rain and the wind produced strong gusts reducing our speed from 60mph to about 45mph. We eventually got to Astana and ferretd out a hotel that seemed like a ripoffski for what it was. Apparently the hotel prices in Astana (the capital) have skyrocketed over the last couple of years and so we were reluctant to search around to save a few dollars. A grumpy old man tried to get us to park TT in a secure gated compound, but the guards there made us wait outside for over 20 minutes in the rain, before refusing us entry. Some friendly men from Azerbaijan tried to help us, but the gates remained firmly shut. So, poor TT ended up being parked on the street outside the hotel watched over by the old man.

As it was Fiona’s last night she kindly took us out for supper. We picked a local Russia restaurant and enjoyed a mixture of salads, chicken (not for Mr Ant as she is vegetarianski) and mushrooms with cheese. During supper we were serenaded by a group of men who looked decidedly un-Russian or Kazakh. It turned out they were Indian and sung beautiful Russian folk music while flashing us their gleaming gold gnashers. I think they have been in Kazakh awhile and picked up the local fashion.

Up this morning and we had decided to change our route and head out of Kazakh north west rather than north, because we were informed this was the main road towards Europe and the roads would be better. Also, this took us nearer to our first city in Russia, Chelyabinsk. The roads started off OK, although the condition was not as good as the road from almaty to astana. The wind was quite strong and we were slowed down by over 20mph, cruising in forth at just under 40mph. This was very frustrating as needed to cover just over 750km to get to the city nearest the Kazakh border. I optimistically thought we may have entered Russia today- not a hope in hell.

We stopped for lunch at a roadside café and pulled up next to a wedding party. They spotted TT and came over to have a photo shoot with her. The bride was wearing a flowing white gown and TT made her look even more stunning. We went inside the café and ordered a pretty basic lunch: tomato salad, fried eggs, macaroni and bread. I bet you’re jealous when you guys in the UK are probably enjoying Pimms and BBQs- bastards (only joking). The waitress was hunched over and in tears during our whole meal. We workied out she had really bad period pains, went to TT’s medical kit and gave her some paracetamol. Hopefully they helped a bit.

After lunch the wind continued to gust and the roads began to deteriorate. We both started having flashbacks of Yunnan in China. Still, striaght perfect tarmac can get a bit boring after awhile. We soon realised that we didn’t have a hope of getting to our intended rendezvous point. So, right now we are in a wood sitting around a roaring campfire. We have had some samphire (sea asparagus picked at Lake Tenghiz by Ants and Fiona), tomatoes and bread. I have managed to burn myself on a hot brick and our tent is erected and ready for us to crawl into. Hopefully we will not be disturbed by drunk locals or wild animals and any sleep would be a bonus. Tomorrow we continue towards the border and hopefully this time tomorrow we will be in Russia. I cannot think of a more perfect way to spend our last night in Kazakhstan. I had better let Ants do her blog now, as she is half way through a bottle of vodka.

I nearly forgot a couple of things so I will add them now. Three is the magic number and if to prove it I was stung today three times by small bees. Kazakhstan is a multicultural country e.g. we started our campfire using a Chinese sanitary towel and Swedish fire stick, we drank Russina vodka, TT is a Thai tuktuk and our tent is from Korea. We have witnessed some amazing sunsets, particularly over Lake Tenghiz and we have been priveledged to see birds of prey hunting in their natural environment. That’s all folks…..xx

Ants...

Ants…

July 22nd

A wood somewhere in NW Kazakhstan

The camp fire is burning, an orchestra of insects is keeping us company and Jo and I are camping in a wood in the middle of not quite sure (no)where. Since there are only about 3 trees in the steppe, this is quite an achievement in itself.

This trip has been a series of ‘I can’t believe its..’. It has progressed from ‘I can’t believe we are actuually doing it’ through ‘ I can’t believe we are in Thailand…I can’t believe we are leaving today…I can’t believe we are in China…through China…in Kazakakhstan’ and now finally ‘I can’t believe we are about to hit Russia’. As I have said before, time has never passed so quickly.

This time tomorrow evening, we will (hopefully) be in Russia, in Chelyabinsk to be precise. It seems like yesterday that we were celebrating our passage into Kazakhstan, and the minute we get used to it we are speeding out the other side, in the flash of a gold tooth. Each day Jo and I are so engaged in driving, navigating, blogging, filming etc that sometimes the future springs upon on before we are fully aware it has arrived. Russia is a perfect example. The day before yesterday saw us frantically extracting the Russian Lonely Planet from TT’s lock box and invetsigating what lay ahead. Lots of vodka it seems. When I was writing the route page for our website on a cold winter’s afternoom in February, it felt like we would never actually be driving along the far off roads that I was writing about. I remember eulogising about the ‘fabled Urals’ and wondering what it would be like when one day we arrived there. That day is now only thee away. Amazing.

Our approach to a new border is always accompanied by a certain amount of trepidation and wonderment. Have we got all the correct documentation? Is everything in order? What is waiting in store for us? We have got used to every day being a mystery, but borders are a different kettle of fish. Hopefully Russia will be as easy as all the rest and tomorrow night we will be happily ensconced in Chelyabinck, eating Borscht and (me) swigging vodka. Before you get the wrong idea by the way, I’m not descending into alcoholism, I’m just partial to the odd cockle-warming voddy.

The last few days, like all our time in Kazkahstan, have been a surprise. Our last night with my mother was spent in the capital, Astana (originally meaning ‘capital’ in Kazakh) where we dined at a hilarious Russian joint called Egorkino where the waitresses were garbed in 17th Russian peasant gear and the music was provided by a motley crew of gold toothed Indians. Classic. This morning it was time for Jo and I to finally strike off solo, and leave my Ma for Russia and home. Tears were shed and we sped off west towards Kostanai, with little idea of how far we would get today but just a desire to get as far as we could. Thanks to terrible roads and TT swallowing pot-holes we now find ourselves in the only wood in NW Kazakhstan. And having felt rather unsure about camping it has turned out to be an absolute delight. As the sun set and burnt the steppe gold and orange, we tukked into the wood, erected the tent in a masterly fashion, whipped up a fire and settled down for the night. Now, as I type, Jo is gathering fire wood and a kestrel is crying overhead. Camping isn’t so bad afterall. Thank you Charlie for the excellent Trangia cooker, and Nobby for teaching us how to light a camp fire with tampax and a Swedish fire still on our survival course in March.

Back to the camp fire and onwards to Russia. Xx Ants

Ants...again..

July 23rd, Kostanai, north west Kazakhstan

Well we didn’t make it to Russia today (Sunday) and tonight Jo, Ting Tong and I find ourselves in Kostanai, a big town in NW Kazakhstan, a hop, skip and a jump away from the Russian border. As we sat round the camp fire last night we didn’t think for a minute that we would be spending another night in Kazakhstan, feeling sure that today would see us crossing the border at Troitsk and tukking onto Chelyabinsk.

On Friday night, in Astana, we got talking to Nurzhan, a handsome, expensively dressed Kazakh. Jo and I had been sitting in the bar of our hotel poring over the map and deliberating our best route to Russia. Since we were racing against time to beat the expiration date of our Kazakh visa, we were after the fastest route possible. It was either north to Petropavlosk or north west to Kostanai. Nurzhan strolled into the bar, and as is customary here, immediately struck up a conversation with us. Being a native, we felt sure he could advise us of the best route. After a short period of careful consideration he pointed towards Kostanai. “Zees one ees best I think, zis is the main route to Europe, ze route all the big trucks take from Russia and Germany”. Since the road was encouragingly called the M36 and cut an impressive red line across north west Kazakhstan, our decision was made. The M36 it was.

Cut to 18 hours later, where Jo and I are driving along this Central Asia – Europe superhighway. Its a single lane track across corn fields and we have’t seen a car for two hours. Kostanai is another 350 km’s….at 8pm we decide we haven’t a hope in hell or heaven of reaching civilization by nightfall and set up camp in our little copse.

I’m not the best of campers. I love the romantic notion of being in some beautiful spot, at one with nature, the stars twinkling overhead, waking up to the sun rising over a meadow of flowers. But the reality is somewhat different – a cold, sleepless night spent terrified the local axe-murderer will come and finish you off. Last night, however, was excellent. Yes it was a little cold and no we didn’t get much sleep, but it was so much fun camping in the middle of our wild wood at the end of the earth, and warming our mitts round a blazing camp fire that I’m willing to gloss over the minor discomfort. So it was with high spirits that Jo and I tukked out of our sylvan shelter at 8.30 a.m today. Having been freezing all night, we were both attired a little strangely. Jo in her Yi apron – of course – and me at the wheel in two rugs and my sleeping bag. Just as we emerged from the trees, with Jo running beside TT to guide us out, a truck drove past and we were met by an ‘Am I seeing things?’ look from the quizzical driver. What a funny sight we must have been; a pink tuk tuk and two very odd looking girls emerging from the undergrowth early on a Sunday morning.

Our high spirits soon evaporated when the reality of the road became apparent. For two hours we saw not a single car. The road, dotted with sporadic signs to Yekatinberg in Russia (800 km hence), was cratered with HUGE holes. Moroever, the sky was an angry mass of low black clouds and an ill wind was buffetting Ting Tong in an alarming manner. All we saw were flocks of black crows taking off in fright as we tukked past, and the occasional herd of horses. No houses, no cars, and no people. Just as we were becoming concerned about our petrol situation and I was wondering if this road really went anywhere, a town appeared in the distance. As we drew closer I could see that the houses were derelict, the windows mainly smashed and the roofs full of holes. It must have been abandoned. I began to get the feeling that this whole area had been abandoned with the collapse of the USSR, hence the hideous disrepair of the road and the antiquated signs to Yekatinberg.

I was wrong. As we drove through the edge of the town I saw an old babushka hobbling along the street, and a bashed up old Lada creaking along. More surprisingly, we were able to find petrol, where the prices on the rusted pumps were still in roubles. The whole place was really eerie, neither of us could believe that people actually lived here, in this desolate, windswept corner of the steppe. It felt like a ghost-town, with people clinging onto the shreds of civilization. I wondered what life must be like for the inhabitants. Judging by the shelves full of vodka in the local store escapism is a popular choice. (The average life expectancy for men here is 58, mainly thanks to alcohol abuse). My oh my seeing that place made me appreciate how lucky we are in our cosy little western lives.

Lunch was a classic. Jo and I stopped at the only café we’d seen for hours and extricated ourselves from Ting Tong, both still wearing our ridiculous outfits. For some reason Jo’s Yi apron never ceases to make me cry with laughter, it must look even funnier to a bunch of Russian truckers in a roadside café. Our hair was standing on end from all the wind and we tripped into the café in a flurry of ponchos, rugs, aprons and sleeping bags. Whether it was the apron , Ting Tong or our English charm, we quickly befriended two truckers, who’d seen us on TV in Almaty. When we asked for the bill they very kindly insisted on paying and off we went.

After eight, freezing, windy hours we arrived in Kostanai. Neither of us expected to experience such bitter weather in Kazakhstan, even though we are just south of Siberia here today was a chilly reminder that TT sure aint a cold weather car. Tomorrow we are going to equip ourselves with some hardcore cold weather gear incase of further inhospitable climes in Russia.

Enough from me for now. I’m off to have a sauna to warm up then tip into bed for an early night. Tomorrow we hope we really will be in Russia…..x x Ants

Our mission to Lake Tenghiz

2006-07-20T22:22:00.000-07:00

20th July Tengiz Lake (North Kazakhstan, the middle of nowhere)

On our last morning in Balkash we headed to the local market. On the way I purchased a pair of bright pink sunglasses, which really don’t suit me and Ants purchased a pair that look cool, but also make her look a bit like a fly i.e. very large. The market was more how we imagined a local market, with women selling their fruit, vegetables, cheeses and kumis (fermented mare’s milk that tastes of bile). The men sold the meat and a Kazakh man dressed in nothing more than a towel around his waist chopped up a cow carcass with a huge axe. We bought some fruit and veggies, goat cheese and some honey- surprisingly costing 2 quid a jar. The women mostly had various numbers of gleaming gold teeth and their hair was back combed on top of their heads with a small hat. We were accosted by a local woman who wrapped her arms around Fiona and then me. We gave her a small amount of money and she later returned for more cuddles. I had earlier seen a man rummaging through the bins outside and so I bought him some salad to eat. Compared to the market in Almaty, this place was cheaper and far more relaxed e.g. they allowed us to take photos, rather than a security guard telling us to stop.

We left Balkash and drove north to Karaganda. The steppe became less monotonous and was replaced by more lush grass, rugged hills to our east and west and on a couple of occasions large groups of horses grazing. Ants and I both thought the scenery looked like Tellytubby land and I expected TinkyWinky to pop up and say ‘Eh-Oh’. TT cruised happily at about 60mph and we enjoyed the drive much more than we had the drive to Balkash from Almaty.

We stayed the night in Karaganda and were led to a hotel by a kind Kazakh guy in his van- we had no idea where we were going and had asked for directions. He also helped us to check in and managed to haggle the price down a bit. Kazakh people rock. As we drove through the town people were beeping and waving at us. Most of the time this is good fun, but sometimes people pull up within a couple of feet of us and try to chat or take photos, often when a big Kamaz truck is bearing down on them in the opposite direction. It gives us flashbacks of China and trucks trying to make a TT sandwich. We dragged our bags to the fifth floor as the lift wasn’t working. Then we decided to go out to supper and asked a taxi driver to take us to a nice restaurant. We ended up at an expensive Belgian restaurant, which had a strange fusion menu of Kazakh mixed with Greek mixed with Belgian. I had a Belgian waffle with chocolate sauce for pudding and it was the best waffle I have ever eaten. The plate ended up being licked, much to Ants’ amusement and I ended up looking like a toddler after their first birthday party. My parents would have been ashamed of my behaviour. Just as we were about to go to bed, a guy that had chased us to our hotel earlier in a white Merc burst into our room at gone 11pm and asked us to go for a drive and drink beer with him and his brother. He got out our map of Kazakhstan and tried to draw our route on it. We asked him to leave as politely as possible, because he was only been friendly and trying to help us.

The next morning (yesterday) Ants had a three hour headache trying to upload some photos. It takes at least 20 minutes per photo and even with Image Shack it still takes ages. We need to find a Russian Photo Shop equivalent to sort out our photo issues and then we can post loads of photos on our blogs. We left about midday for Tenghiz Lake and the Khurgalzhino Nature Reserve. Everything was going smoothly until we got totally lost in a big Kazakh city. There were absolutely no signs and everyone told us different directions. In the end we found the right road and drove 130km down a reasonably well tarmaced road and the got lost again. We ended up in a random town at the end of a very long road and unfortunately asked a local drunk for directions. We didn’t initially realize he was drunk until he had hopped into TT and got us lost again. Ants asked him in her best Russian to get out of TT because he was pissed and we asked some children and a local family for new directions. They explained the way and we set off back down the road we had come down, fortunately only for 4km before we turned off onto the right road. We had to drive 45km and the road deteriorated to large clumps of mud and some stones. The road wasn’t bad enough to really slow us down and TT cruised along at a sedate 30mph. The sun was starting to set and we wondered if we may have to camp for the night. Eventually we came to the entrance of the nature reserve and were told it was too late for us to enter. We felt like crying and I tried to think of something sad so that they may feel sorry for us. Instead I just ended up laughing at the situation- we were in the middle of nowhere 50km from the nearest form of civilization, the sun had set and it was 9.30pm. The man on duty at the gate said that we could sleep in his hut, but we didn’t really want to because it smelt of sheep. We were desperate to get to the lake and after a few walkie talkie calls with the director we were allowed to enter. A short 8km to the guesthouse was all we had to manage before hopefully finding a bed for the night. However, a Kazakh 8km is like a Chinese 8km and this means double it and add 5. Eventually we saw lights in the distance and finally arrived at our destination. Our bed for the night was a small log cabin by the lake with four beds crammed into it, plus a fridge and a TV. We eventually got to sleep after a very tiring evening, relieved to have arrived at all.

I slept like a log last night and apparently my snoring was not too intrusive. I slept in the bed furthest from everyone else, with my head near to the door and I tried to stay awake for as long as possible to let everyone else get to sleep. We woke up to a beautiful day, hot and sunny with not a cloud in the sky. This was a pleasant change, because everyone in England is having the hottest summer on record and the weather in Kazakhstan has been more like an English summer i.e. drizzle, sometimes sunny, mostly cloudy and not that hot. We had heard that there was a beach 8km away, so after a lunch of stale bread and some salad we headed off in TT across the steppe. I was driving and within a couple of hundred meters had successfully got TT stuck in a muddy ditch. I didn’t think the puddle was so muddy and TT had here rear right wheel totally stuck and no amount of pushing or pulling could extract her. We saw a Lada driving over and out got a Russian with a moustache and large belly. He attached TT to his Lada with her dressing gown cord (i.e. rope that we secure her silver cover with) and after him revving and me revving TT shot out of the ditch and onto dry land. I began to doubt whether trying to find a beach was such a good idea. After that we drove at a maximum of 20mph and Ants hung of the side to tell me how to avoid any future hazards. We though we had found the beach after about 5km and parked TT in the steppe while we went to investigate. What we found were mudflats which we proceeded to walk across to try and reach the lake. The mud was hot, black and smelt of sulphur and we soon sunk above our ankles in it. Ants squeaked as something had wriggled between her toes and he hastily returned to the safety of dry land. We carried on driving and were sure we had now found the ‘real’ beach. We had a little paddle, but abandoned any hope of swimming because there were loads of midges and Fiona got bitten twice by a horsefly. Oh well, at least it was an adventure and it was great being in such a remote and desolate spot.

When we got back we ended up being invited to join three men enjoying a feast of vegetables, pasta, rice, horsemeat and of course vodka. We opted to just have drinks and out came the vodka. I pretended to drink mine but didn’t really, Ants had three large glasses and Fiona had one. One of the men was a Kazakh Korean who was a Dr from St Petersburg (random) and he pulled out a magnifying glass and looked into Ants’ and Fiona’s eyes. He then walked around the table and squeezed Fiona’s tummy. He looked at my scars and proclaimed that he could rid me of them in three days. After our brief meeting with our new friends Ants felt quite tipsy and decided that she would crash out after I refused her challenge to a game of badminton. When it was a bit cooler we had a short game and squeaked and grunted our way around a makeshift volleyball court, watched by all the local men. Tomorrow we are heading to Astana where we leave Fiona and then head to the Russian border. I hope the food improves otherwise I will turn into a piece of stale bread.

A country of anomalies

2006-07-20T21:49:00.000-07:00

Kurghalzhino Nature reserve, 150 k m south west of Astana, Kazakhstan

Here it is, the blog I had such good intentions of writing last night until we got collared by our vodka swilling friends. Since Jo doesn’t drink and my mother doesn’t like swigging back glassfuls of vodka, it was left to me to do the toasts keep the union jack flying high. Unfortunately that meant no blog, no video diary, a rather pie-eyed attempt at Badminton and no intended run.

I feel like I have hardly written a blog recently, having got so into the habit in China, our writing has slightly fallen by the wayside in Kazakhstan. This week my excuse is that I have been busily writing a piece for the Mail on Sunday, which should hopefully be in the review section this weekend. Its been a bit of a pavlova, as Jo would say, with a flurry of emails going back and forwards between myself and my friend Anna at the Mail. Thank you so much Anna for all your help and can’t wait to chat about normal, non- work related things next week xx.

Back to Balkash, where I last put pen to paper, as it were. In a perverse way, Balkash was one of the most interesting places I have ever been. A few months ago I read AA Gill’s excellent account of his visit to Moynaq, on the shores of what was once the Aral Sea in west Kazakhstan. He describes it as the ‘worst place in the world’, with the rusting ghosts of fishing boats languishing in the middle of the desert, 150 km from the edge of the sea they once fished. Lake Balkash, Central Asia’s 4th largest lake, is going the same way and a UN report in 2004 stated that over 2000 km2 had already been lost, largely thanks to over use of the Ili River in China. For the visitor, this is not yet apparent, but the pollution and poverty are. In the 1930’s the Russians set up Copper smelting works in the town, on the north shore of the lake, and these grim chimneys still pump out poison into the atmosphere daily. Chromosomal diseases are on the rise, and many of the residents of Balkash complain of constant headaches. I even noticed it, the acid smoke getting in the back of your throat and causing you to choke. Our new friend Maxat, told us that the factory is one of the biggest in the world and employs 17 different nationalities and that British and Canadian pollution experts are currently working to reduced the impact of the factories on the environment. Until then, it remains yet another example of the Russian legacy to Kazkakhstan, along with the shrinking Aral Sea and the nuclear testing ground at Semey.

(Quick interlude, my new friend Morgea just brought us some freshly caught fish for breakfast, so kind.)

Yet despite the pollution, the filth, the dereliction and the disintegrating apartment blocks, Balkash had its good points. As Jo has already written, we were saved by a young Kazakh called Maxat, who found us a mechanic and filled the holes which my elementary Russian couldn’t cover. Neither of us can get over how kind and generous the Kazkahs are, they will go to any lengths to help you and make you feel welcome in their country. At times, however, this can go a little far. Whilst navigating our way through Karaganda two nights ago a white Mercedes drew up beside us. The blacked-out window wound down to reveal a gleaming set of gold teeth owned by a handsome young Kazakh. "Where are you going?" He shouted in Russian. For the next ten minutes we drove in precarious tandem to our hotel, me attempting to dodge the oncoming traffic while simultaneously conducting a conversation with Goldie next door. Later that night the same man, dressed head to toe in pin stripes and moc-croc, burst into our hotel room brandishing beer and insisting he showed us round the local hotspots. After much polite negotiation, we declined and he was off as rapidly as he had appeared. How he found his way to our hotel room remains a mystery.

The Kazakhs also have a nerve-wracking habit of pulling up beside you at 60 mph, so close you could tweak their moustaches, and firing a barrage of questions at you, “Where are you from? How much was your car? Where are you going? Do you want to come and stay with me?” The more persistent ones force you to pull over and have impromptu photoshoots, the encounter ending with a handing out of phone numbers and insistence you pay them a visit. Yesterday it was two cars full of ‘Polizi’, all apparently called Eric, the day before a BMW crammed with well-fed men, whom I felt sure were up to no good.

We have spent the last 36 hours in the Kurghalzhino Nature Reserve, famed for its pink flamingos, of which we have seen not a whisker. It’s a strange place, a cursory attempt at eco-tourism which doesn’t quite work. We are the only people staying here and the rest of the inhabitants are builders and random, slightly drunk men. Our arrival here the other night was even odder. Having driven along the longest, straightest road from Astana (where I had completely lost my rag after getting lost for ages) we came to the town of Khurgalzhino, which we assumed must be where the reserve was. It was 8 pm and the sun was sinking rapidly in th sky. After a brief diversion from the village drunk we ascertained that in fact the reserve was another 45 km’s up a dirt track…so off we sped. Atlast, out of the gloom, appeared the gateway to the ‘famous’ reserve, which we had been assured was well signed. As we pulled up, a ruddy faced, inebriated looking Russian limped out of the wooden hut, clearly wondering whether he was hallucinating or not. We quickly discoved that the reserve was closed for the night and we would have to wait till the morning to get in. We looked around despondently – nothing for miles. Just the lonely steppes. Eventually, after much pleading and gesturing that my mother was far too old and delicate to camp (which she isn’t), and a series of phonecalls to the ‘Director’ our luck changed. Nikolai, the limping Russian, who smelt exceptionally sheepy, gave us our tickets, relieved us of $60 and off we went, assuring us that 8km beyond was a Gostiniza, with soft towels and moonshine. As we tukked off down the track into the darkness (it was now 10pm) I found it hard to believe that there was any civilization in such a place, let alone hot water and a place to lay our heads for the night. What we found, was a strange collection of wooden hurts, a single yurt and a lot of drunk Kazakhs. After haggling for another half an hour over the costs of our simple hut, we hit the sack, exhausted.

Its eight weeks on Sunday since we left Bangkok, amazing. Neither Jo or I can believe it. Even stranger is the fact that we’ve been in Kazkahstan for ten days, and it seems like only yesterday that we were sitting by Saryam Lake mourning the end of our passage through China. In two days we will be in Russia, leaving Asia firmly behind us. Kazakhstan has been a curious experience, it’s a country of anomalies where nothing quite adds up, neither Asia or Europe, but betwixt and between. It’s the ninth largest country in the world, yet with a population of only 15 million, and falling. Its (benevolent) dictator Nazarbaev, has a grandiose economic plan for the country “Kazakhstan 2030”, yet everywhere you go poverty stares you in the face. I saw a perfect example of this in Balkash. In front of a decrepit tower block stood a huge “Kazakhtan 2030” sign, the golden snow-leopard peeling off the blue-paintwork. It seemed a microcosm of Kazakhstan, trying so hard to escape the shackles of poverty and the Soviet era, but not yet able to shed its old skin.

Kazakhstan is also full of anomalies in other, minor ways. In Karaghanda two nights ago, a steppe town famed for coal and gulags, we found ourselves in a Belgian restaurant, serving Hoegarden and waffles. And in Almaty last week, we had a pint of Guinness in an Irish Pub called Mad Murphy’s where a trio of maudlin Russians sang bizarre renditions of Beatles songs.

That’s it for now. We’re off to Astana today and my Ma flies home tomorrow to leave us to Russia and its rhinoceros sized mosquitoes. xx

Blame it on the Vodka

2006-07-20T10:00:00.000-07:00

Kurghalzhino Nature Reserve, Kazakhstan

Well I was going to write a long, studious blog about our last few days in Kazakhstan. But then we met Valeri, Morgea and Dalod and they forced me to drink copious amount of Vodka...so it'll have to wait till the morning when I can think and type straight. For the moment though, love from Jo and I in the strangest place I think either of us have ever been. xx Ants

The Kindness of Strangers

2006-07-18T02:34:00.000-07:00

Hotel Balkash, Balkash, Kazakhstan. July 17th, 2006

Ants....

I know, I know, there’s been a serious absence of blogs recently. Apologies. Our ‘days off’ in Almaty were crammed with chores and our first day back on the road yesterday was a 750 km tukathon which left no time or energy for blogging.

Kazakhstan has been a revelation. Even more so than China it was a void in our imaginations filled only with Borat, oil and steppe. We had no idea what the reality of travel here would be like, and were convinced that we’d be forking out bribes every few kilometres. How wrong we were. Every day strangers have shown us astonishing kindness and hospitality, and every day we are left thinking how cold and inhospitable us Brits are.

Anyroad, I shall start at the beginning. As I mentioned briefly last week, Almaty is an expensive, westernized city. Having driven from Khorgos through rural villages where donkey carts far outnumbered cars, it was a surprise to suddenly be in Almaty with its plethora of German metal. Every second car there is a Mercedes, Audi, BMW, VW or Porsche. Every other second car is an ancient old Lada. Whilst there we learnt that a great proportion of these cars are driven in huge trucks from Europe, where crashes have rendered them undriveable under EU regulations. Here however no one cares -status before safety it seems.

Such a surfeit of speed makes the driving in Almaty LETHAL. Speed is at a maximum and spatial respect at a minimum. No journey through the city was completed without seeing at least two prangs, and most of the cars carried some sort of battle scars. On the last day there we were lucky to escape one of these, when a Lada careered straight into the back of a black Mercedes less than a metre away from us. The Mercedes came off much worse and as we tukked off, thanking our lucky stars that the Lada driver hadn’t taken evasive action into Tingers, we saw three large Russians emerge from the Merc and stride menacingly towards the quivering Lada driver. I didn’t fancy his chances.

The other notable thing about driving in Almaty is the ‘taxis’. On day one we noticed that everyone seemed to be hitchhiking, sticking their arms out by the side of the road and immediately being picked up by any passing car. So we decided to try it out. Sure enough, 30 seconds later, a wheezing old Lada pulled up, we negotiated a price, and off we went. Having been ripped off by several taxi drivers on our first day this became our preferred method of transport, and in our week there we all got picked up by people claiming to own the ‘oldest Lada in Almaty’. It’s such a good idea, people do it to make a bit of petrol money as they scoot around town. I might start trying it at home.

So many people in Almaty were so kind to us, I don’t know where to start. First up are Michael Steen and his wife Gemma. Whilst talking to my friend Adam about the trip back in February, he said, “Oh, my friend Mike lives in Almaty, you should get in touch with him”. Ever since then Mike has been the recipient of a number of emails from me and has obliged us with wealth of information about traveling here. So it was great to eventually meet him and Gemma, who works for the EU, and thank him for all his help. Mike has been Reuter’s senior correspondent here for 3 years and is a mine of information on ‘the Stans’. As Jo has already mentioned, our supper with them at ‘Mamma Mia’ was spiced up by the presence of a juicy maggot in my salad which I luckily spied before it was too late.

Next in our line of Almaty Angels is Catherine Inglehearn, the Deputy Ambassor here for the last three years. Catherine, like Mike, has dispensed a great deal of advice and support to us over the last few months, when I am sure she has far more important matters to deal with. With the help of her press officer, Yulia Kaufman, she arranged a press conference for us at SATR on Thursday. The idea to combine with SATR was inspired, since it made people realize that we are not just two dippy girls driving round the world in a toy car, but we’re trying to raise money and awareness for an important cause. The ensuing articles in Komsomolskaya Pravda (www.kp.kz), Liter (www.liter.kz) and The Kazakhstan Express all talked about Mind and why mental health is a global problem that we all need to be aware of. As for SATR (www.satr.kz), what a fantastic place. Its founder and matriarch Dr.Gulnur Khakimzhanova, deserves global acclaim for her work. It was a privilege to meet her and her team. Thank you to Catherine and Yulia for arranging the day, and also for the pasta and Wendsleydale!

Then there was Evgenia Salagdinova and the members of the Kazakhstan Feminist League (www.women.kz). Before I left, my Russian teacher Vanda (whom I’d been taught by through the excellent Toniks Languages (www.toniks.com), had suggested I contact a few of her contacts in Kazakhstan. I subsequently got several emails back from various members of Feminist League’s here, most notably from Evgenia, asking how they could help us ‘dear ladies’. So on Wednesday afternoon Jo and I found ourselves in a smoky room, eating olives and being interviewed by these lovely people. Evgenia is a delight and like me shares a passion for fairies and all things pointy eared. When she and her husband Alexander came to supper a few days later she told us how Tolkien is very popular here and that every weekend members of the Tolkien Fan Club dress up in medieval armour and run round the Tien Shan mountains acting out scenes from the Lord of the Rings. Classic. Even better, I now know all the Russian words for hobbit, elf, orc, fairy and pixy.

Our last day in Almaty was spent going into these very same mountains, where Shamil Zhumatov, the Reuters photographer, took some photos of us and TT. Shamil, a handsome, black eyed Tartar, has covered the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan and was with the 4th US Marine Division when they captured Saddam. He was one of the few journalists to see inside Saddam’s hole. And here he was spending his Saturday photographing TT. Shymbulak, where we went, is the playground of Almaty, where they ski in winter and get married in summer. Judging by the 27 wedding corteges we saw on the way down, NO expense is spared. We wondered where they found enough white Mercs to feed such extravagant taste.

Betwixt our chores in Almaty we squeezed in a few touristic endeavours, the Zelyony (Green) Bazaar and the Arasan Baths. Apart from being a total rip off, the bazaar was interesting for its bizarre offerings of Shubat and Khymiz, fermented camel and horse milk. Both are Kazakh favourites and whilst we wrinkled up our noses at the alien taste Kazakhs queued up for pints of the stuff. As for the baths…for some peculiar reason they induced a panic attack the like of which I haven’t had since I used to suffer from them regularly a few years ago. Whilst large, naked babushkas watched in perplexity Jo had to tell me to breathe and lead me off to recover. Most odd.

So yesterday, after five days in leafy Almaty, we set off for Balkash, 750 km’s north up the M36. Since our notions of camping had been destroyed after hearing of the wolves that roam these grasslands, and with nothing but steppe wilderness between the two cities, we had no choice but to drive this far. The novelty of nothingness wore off after a while and the drive here went on and on and on and on and on……..Just a straight road, the flat steppe and the unbounded blue vault above. Even more so than the Gobi, this felt like a corner of the earth which civilization had forgotten about. Every 100 km’s or so we passed a crumbling village, where rusting hulls of cars languished and half destroyed houses stood. Occasionally a herd of camels or horses could be seen punctuating the horizon. And that was it.

At last, at 8.30 last night, we arrived in Balkash, which sits to the north of its eponymously named lake. The aquamarine of the lake stood in violent contrast to the filthy, industrial town that greeted us. Balkash is just as you would imagine a ramshackle Soviet era town to be; depressing apartment blocks, factories belching out toxic fumes, long abandoned parks. But having asked two gold-toothed Kazakh men where the nearest ‘gostiniza’ was, we found ourselves at the Hotel Balkash, a pleasant anomaly amidst such depressing surrounds. Since TT has got a mysterious mechanical issue which we’ve been spending all day investigating, we have found ourselves here for a second night. Tomorrow we head north again to Karanganda, famous for coal and gulags.

A final point, which we have found again and again in our short time here. Never have I come across such kind people. Whether it was the passers by who gave us free petrol from their jerry can yesterday, the taxi driver turned mechanic who refused to accept any money for tinkering with TT today or Maxat who has asked us to supper with his family tonight, the Kazkakh’s kindness is unbounded. It puts us to shame. As I wrote today in an article I am writing for the Mail on Sunday, this trip has shown me that human beings are essentially kind and that the world is a much safer place than we all imagine. I recommend that everyone should do a long distance trip in a pink tuk tuk. It really does reaffirm your faith in human nature.

Enough waffle from me… HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my darling, favouritest, big sis Zed, 33 today xxxxxxxxxxxx

Who wants to Live Forever?

2006-07-18T02:30:00.000-07:00

Almaty, 15th July

JO...

The title of this blog is also the title of a Queen song that I was listening to on Ants’ I-pod during the last week in China (as well as scaring away the local wildlife by singing along). I find the song very emotive and it makes me want to disagree and say that I do want to live forever. I certainly haven’t always wanted to be immortal and there were a number of years when I wished that I could just fall asleep and never wake up.

This trip just makes me so happy to be alive; even the difficult and stressful days make me appreciate the gift of life. I am also very grateful that I am able to do this trip and very briefly get glimpses into how other people live in different environments and cultures. There is too much to see and do in this world that it is not possible to fit it into one lifetime. I would like to live many lives, on the one condition that all the people (and animals) that I love could share my experiences with me.

I have just finished a brilliant book called “A Fine Balance” by Rohinton Mistry. If you enjoy a beautifully written book and/or love India then this is a book for you. At the end of the book one of the main characters commits suicide and you are left with so many unanswered questions e.g. why did he do it? This is probably the main question that loved ones ask when someone close to them chooses to take their own life. Suicide may seem like a selfish choice, but suicidal people are not cowards and to judge someone’s actions when you don’t know their feelings is wrong. I have suffered from depression and I know the feeling when life seems so helpless that there are no apparent reasons to carry on living. I acutely remember feeling like a living corpse and I wasn’t able to experience any emotions e.g. I knew that I should love my family but I could not connect in any way with any positive emotions.

So, we have been in Almaty for a few days and leave tomorrow for Lake Balkash, a short 700km drive away. I am not really sure what I think of Almaty. It has many tree lined streets, but this does not necessarily make it a beautiful city. Everything is very expensive here e.g. 4 pounds for a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and 2 pounds per hour to use the internet. Ants and I are suffering a reverse culture shock i.e. returning to a very westernized place after having been in Asia for so long. We intended to relax and rest a little, but instead our days have been filled with chores that need to be done e.g. press conference, registering passports, organizing third party insurance, getting TT serviced etc….. However, the people here are very friendly and we have met some really interesting characters this week.

On Tuesday evening we went out to supper with Mike (Reuters chief central Asia correspondent) and his wife Gemma, who have provided us with lots of useful information about Kazakhstan. We went out to an Italian restaurant and Mr Ant was lucky enough to have a gleaming white healthy maggot in her cauliflower salad- well, I am always trying to tell her that she needs more protein in her diet! On Wednesday we met up with a Kazakhstan feminist group, who do a brilliant job helping to promote equal rights for women here. Thursday was the most serious day of the trip to date. We took TT along to a press conference that had been organized by the British Embassy in Almaty. It took place at the headquarters of an organization called SATR, which work with children and young people with mental and physical disabilities. We had no idea what to expect and were thoroughly shocked to be filmed driving through the streets and then to be met by well over 10 journalists and a handful of TV crews. Microphones were thrust towards us as we each gave a short speech about our trip (Ants) and about Mind and mental health in England (me). We had to speak in very short sentences so that what we’d said could be translated into Russian. It was a pretty nerve wracking experience and I am so glad that Ants and I could share the load of public speaking- one of my least favourite hobbies. Still, it is good to think that we are getting the opportunity to speak about the problems associated with mental health.

Yesterday I took TT off to be serviced and she now has fresh oil (for high performance cars), a new oil filter, fuel filter and front brake pads. The mechanic was a real character who spoke very little English and so he and I communicated mainly through hand signals for three hours. He noticed that part of TT’s rear suspension was missing from one side and after a few minutes with a blow torch had fixed the part and reinserted it. I was shocked that the oil cost 20 quid, but I think it is oil designed for very high performance cars like Porsches. I gave him a packet of Chinese cigarettes to say thank you and asked how much I owed him. He refused to take any money from me and demonstrated yet again the generosity of the people we have met throughout our journey.

Today we drove to Shymbulak (ski resort just outside Almaty) with the Reuters
photographer, who took some photos of us and TT. The roads were incredibly steep and
TT struggled up the mountain in 2nd gear. We got a chair lift up the mountain and then walked back down, trying not to let our legs run away with us. I felt inspired to sing songs from “A Sound of Music” e.g. Climb Every Mountain sung by the nun to Maria when she visits the convent. As usual, plants started to wither, animals collapsed and children began to cry. I know exactly what Sam would have said, “Preeease, save my face”! TT did not enjoy the drive back down the mountain; she struggled to control her revs in 2nd gear and I had to use the breaks heavily; the smell of burning metal was not nice. On the drive down we saw 27 convoys of wedding cars traveling up the mountain. I have never seen so many white Mercs in my life. Apparently, the majority of people who get married in Almaty during the summer then get driven to the mountains to drink champagne and have photos taken.

Back on the road tomorrow and I am looking forward to it. We have been in one place
for 5 days and I am getting itchy feet. It is time to hit that tarmac and I hope it is smooth and beautiful and black.

17th July, Lake Balkash

Firstly, let me apologise to my mum, who I know doesn’t like us posting multiple blog
entries on the same day. It would be much better if we blogged regularly three or more times a week, but sometimes this just isn’t possible. Ants’ mum has said that she now realizes that Tuk to the Road is quite hard work and there is not much time for letting our hair down and relaxing- Ants’ mum, Fiona, is traveling with us for 2 weeks through Kazakhstan.

Lake Balkash is the fourth largest lake in Asia (I think) and we spent over 200km
yesterday driving around its western edge before finally arriving at Balkash city. After over 700km of driving north through the steppe I was thoroughly exhausted and feeling very flat.

As we drove out of Almaty yesterday morning I was just praying that we would manage
to leave the city without having an accident in TT. I initially thought the driving here was better than in China, but Almaty takes the prize for reckless motoring. The
combination of fast German cars and not paying proper attention to the road and the other road users results in multiple daily crashes. Every day we would either see an accident that had just occurred, see cars parked that had obviously been kissing over cars’ backsides or see the tell tale sign of broken glass on the road. It was the first time that I have really felt nervous driving TT. As we were nearing the city limits a man walked out onto a pedestrian crossing and just seemed to stop and stare at the traffic- perhaps he was staring at TT. Anyway, the first car braked quite suddenly at the pedestrian crossing, the Merc behind braked suddenly to avoid smashing into the first car, which left the Lada driving third smashing at about 30mph into the back of the Merc. We were very lucky that the Lada driver decided to rear end the Merc rather than swerve straight into us. My heart started pounding and I uttered a few expletives, as did Ants. We drove around the crash to see three rather butch men get out of the Merc and walk back towards the Lada driver- God, I hope he had insurance. Guess which car came off worse? The Merc lost 1-0 to the Lada, which only suffered a small dent to its front bumper.

After safely leaving Almaty we started on the very long drive north to Balkash. I had an image of the steppe in my head and the reality matched my imagination. Hundreds of kilometers of endless scrubby grassland to the east, west, north and south followed all the way to Balkash. I loved driving through barren landscapes in China, but the steppe did not stir up so many positive emotions. I didn’t dislike the drive, but it did feel a bit like driving in a computer game. Occasionally the monotony of the drive was broken up by eagles flying overhead or small herds of horses and camels grazing. Petrol stations were few and far between and a couple of times I was worried we might run out. We were flagged down a couple of times by Kazakh families who wanted to chat and take photos. The first family that stopped gave us 5 liters of petrol and refused any payment for it.

Another example of the Kazakh hospitality that has been bestowed upon us and TT. At
one of the petrol stations the petrol was pumped by hand. This involved two men turning a handle very fast to get the petrol from its underground tank into the vehicle. As usual, the petrol attendants wouldn’t listen to us asking them not to fully insert the nozzle into TT and this resulted in 17 liters for TT and 3 liters for the petrol forecourt. At least this time it wasn’t me that ended up covered in petrol.

Balkash is not a particularly attractive town and it is towered over by large industrial chimneys, which constantly belch out acidic smoke. Ants used her Russian skills to find us a hotel and we dragged our luggage up to the third floor. I had a room to myself and Ants shared with Fiona. Due to my unsociable snoring it is good for Ants to get few nights’ unbroken sleep while she can. The hotel rooms are more like a granny bedsit than a hotel room, with a small bed, table and chairs, some crockery, a large fridge and a bathroom- oh, and really horrible wall paper (no offense meant to grannies living in bedsits).

We had a rather uninspiring supper (goulash and potatoes), which tasted rather like
school dinners and then went to our respective bedrooms. I stayed up for a couple of
hours reading, writing and smoking- without Ants nagging me to get into bed and turn
out the light I start pottering around and stay up well past midnight- such a crazy girl.

For once, I slept like a baby and was woken up by Ants just before midday. We had
planned to explore the nicer parts of the lake today, but instead spent the afternoon
tending to TT and her newly acquired noise. For the last couple of hundred of kilometers yesterday she was making a grinding noise in her front end at slower speeds. Also, when you braked she veered to the right side of the road. As I opened up the tool box and wondered what to do a handsome young man came and introduced himself. His name was Max and he helped me to jack up TT and remove her caliper and brake pad. We thought that the brake was making her grind and drift. After removing both of these the wheel was spinning smoothly without any resistance. We went for a short drive, but TT was still grinding away, although she had stopped veering when the brakes were applied.

Max introduced us to a couple of mechanics who spent the next couple of hours trying to work out where the grinding noise was coming from. We changed the front caliper and brake pad and had another test drive- the grinding noise continued. Then, they tried to balance the wheels by removing a washer next to the tyre. This reduced the grinding but did not stop it completely. They concluded that the noise wasn’t causing any damage and would probably disappear. We just have to hope that they are right, because apparently there aren’t many (if any) motorcycle mechanics in Kazakhstan. We offered them payment but they refused any. God, the Kazakh people are generous and kind.

This evening we went out for a meal, which tasted like school dinners again. That is not a complaint, because I used to quite like school dinners. Max came along with his father and then a random journalist asked if he could interview us and take some photos. He worked for the local paper and the interview was translated from Kazakh to English and back again by Max, with Ants managing to answer some questions in Russian. The waitress had a full set of gold front teeth- very bling and I think a bit of a fashion statement here in Kazakhstan. Ants has decided that she would also like a gold tooth to fit in with the locals more and as a memento of Kazakhstan. Apparently there is a gold factory here, so perhaps we will find a dentist in the morning to give her a smile like Jaws (metal mouth in James Bond). After supper we drove further into town past a local nightclub, before stopping by the lake. The chimneys could be seen in the distance pumping out their noxious fumes. A couple were obviously hoping to have a romantic moment by the lake, but TT drove up and disturbed them. We got chatting to some of the locals and they asked if we were going to the local nightclub. Ants and I used our normal excuse of having to drive the next day and needing a good night’s sleep- both true, but
also we are becoming quite old and square and haven’t got the energy to drink lots of
vodka and dance- perhaps we would if I invoked the power of my Yi apron.

So far the best thing about Kazakhstan is the people. They are mostly incredibly friendlyand many have gone out of their way to help us. Kazakh people have told us that they are famed for their hospitality and I would have to agree. Tonight TT is tucked up in the guarded forecourt of Balkash police station. The police would like us to take them for a two hour drive tomorrow morning- 20 minutes is more likely. As Ants has said, a great photo opportunity. Anyway, bedtime now as it’s after 12.30am and I need to sleep well in my rather small bed to be full of beans for another long drive through the steppe.

A quickie from Almaty

2006-07-13T03:29:00.000-07:00

Almaty, Kazakhstan.

Jo's gone off to collect Ting Tong's insurance and left me to start writing an article for the Mail on Sunday, so I thought I'd do a very quick blog to stop Stan getting worried!

We've been in Almaty for almsot 3 days now and its been crazy. Almaty is SO expensive, statistically more so than Washington DC and Boston and with more Porsche Cayenne's per capita than anywhere else in the world. Jo and I are both finding it very odd being in the western world again and being bereft of chopsticks and Jack (not in that order) and are looking forward to hitting the road again.

We'll write more tomorrow as its been a very funny few days. I got attacked by a Bride of Frankenstein dentist with facial hair and inch thick kohl, we've been hanging out with the Kazakhstan Feminist League (long story), I found a huge maggot in my salad at a 'snazzy' restaurant, we've drunk fermented mare's and camel's milk and today we had a press conference at www.satr.kz organised by the British Embassy with a scary amount of TV crews and newspapers. In a minute we've got to dash off and sort out our skypecast which we hope some of you will come to. As its our first one we hope we don't cut everyone off and mute each other by accident.

More soon and love from us both xx

Skypecast- tomorrow (13th July) at 1.30pm British time

2006-07-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

We are hosting a Skypecast tomorrow and it would be great if you could join us for it. See below for the info from the Skype PR team.

"Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent and Jo Huxster, best friends from school, are driving 10,000 miles in a pink Thai tuk tuk from Bangkok to Brighton to raise money for the mental health charity MIND.

It will go down in the Guinness book of records as the longest journey on 3 wheels, but as the girls battle through China on the B roads this reward and their home coming to sunny Brighton seems untouchable.

Stranded by an earthquake and banned on the expressway has meant the girls have had to travel 11 hour days to make the 4000 miles across China in 28 days. Hear about this extraordinary journey so far by logging onto the girls first Skypecast discussion on 13 July @ 13.30 UK time.

To join the Skypecast please go to....

https://skypecasts.skype.com/skypecasts/skypecast/detailed.html?id_talk=15324
where you can log on to the Skypecast. You can also keep in touch with the girls throughout their Journey by contacting their Skype name: tuktotheroad. If you haven't already joined Skype, Its easy to get started, easy to get connected and use. Just go to www.skype.com and download the latest version.

To Join the Skypecast is free, and all you need is a broadband Internet connection and a computer."

xx us

PS We now have a bona fide working satellite modem so will be much more skypeable from now on home.

Welcome to Kazakhstan

2006-07-11T03:46:00.000-07:00

Almaty, 11th July

We woke up at 6.45am yesterday morning and packed up TT before leaving Saryam Lake and heading to the border. Well, that was the plan anyway. It was about 5C and bloody freezing. Our fingers went numb and we had problems undoing TT's dressing gown (pink rain covers). Once everything was loaded Ants turned the key in the ignition. Can you guess what happened next? NOTHING! As I have previously said, TT is a tropical tuktuk and doesn't like the cold. We tried to start her on and off for about 20 minutes, pausing so we didn't flood the engine. She did start 3 times, but cut out straight away. Jack, Ants and myself tried to push her backwards up a slope, but she was too heavy for us to push her. Eventually, some locals turned up and we pushed her up the slope and onto the road, before bump starting her successfully. Drama over and it was only about 8am. Ants found the whole experience quite stressful, while I chose to laugh and use the opportunity to kickstart my nicotine fix. I would have started to get stressed if the the bump start hadn't worked, but in these situations you either laugh or cry and I chose the latter.

Finally we set off towards the border, all of us shivering violently against temperatures we were not dressed for and hadn't experienced in a few months. We stopped briefly for breakfast and then tukked the last 30km to the border. It was totally packed with Kazakh families who had just been visiting China for the weekend (I assume as it was monday morning). Unlike the other border crossings, this one was packed with people and vehicles and all of our luggage had to go through an airport scanner. The whole process of scurrying around to sort out passports, check vehicle documents etc took the best part of two hours, but thanks to Jack we were processed more quickly than many others. We were fretting about getting to the Kazakh side before their lunch break, because we still had nearly 400km of driving before reaching Almaty.

We hugged Jack and said goodbye. I burst into tears and felt incredibly sad to be leaving both him and China. The moment of truth arrived and we entered the Kazakh side. A soldier dressed in khaki and spitting sunflower husks onto the floor greeted us and hopped into TT with his rifle slung from his shoulder. So far so good. We drove past all of the other vehicles and went straight into the compound where we needed to get ourselves and TT processed. We smiled nervously at the border staff and Ants used her Russian skills to explore what we needed to do next. It seemed that we needed to get all of our luggage scanned again- what a pain. A man approached with a trolley and asked for $10 to take our luggage through. I got a bit stroppy with him and said no, took the trolley from his hands and loaded our luggage myself (with Ants helping).

Ants had handed the guards our Russina press release, which they read. Then, our guardian angel arrived. We both think that he was an important border official and he took us under his wing. After asking if we had any contraband (the answer was of course 'niet'), he told us not to bother getting our luggage scanned. We were then pushed to the front of the queue with our passports, which were quickly stamped. Then, we drove a few yards to get TT processed. The paperwork was all organised within quarter of an hour and we were told to get vehicle insurance in Almaty. Then, the kind officer (who was quite handsome and early middle aged) gave me a plastic bag. In this bag was litres of cold drink, a box of chocolates and two russian dolls. We asked about changing money, but they did not know what to do with our travellers cheques and so the border official then gave us about $40 of local money. Ants and I were both speechless at the generosity of this man we had never met.

I offered him a packet of Chinese cigarettes, which he accepted. He climbed into TT and then we drove out of the border area with all of the guards, officials and soldiers saluting him and opening all of the gates for us. Ants later said that she wondered if he wanted a lift all of the way to Almaty. He didn't and hopped out after less than one km. We screamed with delight and relief and were absolutely thrilled to be safely through the border. A couple of km later we were stopped at an army checkpoint, but all they wanted was to see our passports and to take photos of TT.

The drive to Almaty was over 350km and we had heard mixed reports about the state of the tarmac. Some people had said the drive would take us 6 hours, others 8 and one even posited 12 hours. The road had a few potholes, but we could still travel a good 40mph. The scenery was quite stunning. Initially flat with mountains on either side, then becoming grass covered sand dunes, then through some mountains and then flat again with mountains on either side. At one point it was so windy that we were reduced to about 30mph, with Ants gripping the handle bars with all her might so we didn't get blown back to China. We stopped by the side of the road and unloaded the roofrack of TT's spares to try and reduce the wind resistance a little. These were put in the back and I sat with my legs up on the boxes.

We stopped to fill up with petrol and I was pleased that I could fill TT up myself. However, the nozzle lever got jammed and I squirted petrol all over the petrol station and myself at a great velocity. A man then came and did the job for me, but he wouldn't listen to me about putting the nozel in to TT too far. I smugly watched as the petrol squirted out back at him- why will nobody listen to us about TT's anatomy? I guess they just like to learn the hard way.

The roads were fine and the potholes did not slow us down much. We drove into Almaty at just after 8pm and got a tiny bit lost trying to find the apartment we were renting. We finally located Ants's mum and the apartment and unloaded TT. Ants' mum (Fiona) and I put our stuff in the lift to take to the 8th floor, while Ants went to park TT in a secure compound- a kind mand offered us his underground parking space. Afetr nearly an hour Ants still wasn't back and Fiona and I had gone through rational reasons for Ants' delay before worrying that she had been raped and murdered. Just as we were considering calling the police Ants returned. Apparently, someone had taken the parking space and the kind man (Aziz, a Pakistani diplomat) had tried to clear the space for TT. Ants knew we would be worried but had no way of contacting us to explain why she hadn't come back sooner. After some anxious minutes everything was fine, Fiona made a salad, we all had a nice catch up and then hit the hay absolutely exhausted.

The fears have been banished and Kazazhstan looks to be a whole new and wonderful experience, although I desperately miss China still.

Beautiful China

2006-07-11T03:08:00.000-07:00

Saryam Lake, 70km from the Kazakh border (written 9th July)

We arrived yesterday at our final Chinese stop before leaving this wonderful country. Saryam Lake (pronounced Saleem) is located over one thousand metres above sea level and is the largest lake in China, covering a few hundred square km (sorry not to be specific with my measurments).

We drove from Urumqi in a day, a feat which we only dreamt of. Luckily they allowed us to drive on the Expressway again and so TT shot past Dong Fengs at 100km/hour and we covered 400 miles in under 12 hours. This has enabled us to have a full day off at the lake rather than be stuck in a homogeneous Chinese hotel.

I am lost for words by the beauty of this place. The lake is the most perfect bright blue- for those that remember their chemistry lessons, it is the colour of copper sulphate. The lake is surrounded by mountains, some rugged and some covered in grass. Traditional yurts are dotted on the grassy hills on one side of the lake, as well as herds of sheep and horses. Last night we climbed to the top of the nearest hill and enjoyed the sun setting- well, I nearly ruined the moment by trying to yodel. I was also wearing my Yi apron on top of my normal clothes, with an army hat and head band to complete the rather strange look. If it had been daylight I would have been deemed an eyesore.

We opted to stay in a pseudo-yurt. Apparently the real ones have a certain sheepy odour to them, are v cold and not v comfortable. Much as we both love to try the authentic experiences, we hope to stay in a 'proper' yurt in Kazakhstan, when it is not so important that we sleep well. Our yurt looks out over the lake and at night is blessed with electricity, although no central heating. We have a carpet on the floor, some basic wooden furniture and sleep on and in blankets, fully clothed with half of our rucksacks emptied on us to add to the warmth. Ants also wears her ear plugs and eye mask- apparently my snoring still penetrates the ear plugs though.

Last night we did not sleep very well, but to compensate I was woken by the most beautiful sunrise across the lake. Until the sun rises fully it is the temperature of England on an early spring morning i.e. chilly. In the morning we went riding for 2 hours. I didn't have any long trousers and so the inside of my calves are now suffering, having been rubbed red raw from cantering across the fields. I had forgotten how much I love riding and it was a magic experience. Riding was followed by a little siesta and then we had a short walk along the shore of the lake.

So, tomorrow we leave China and cross into Kazkhstan. We are both still nervous about what to expect. I feel like I am being sent back to school at the beginning of term and I don't want to go. I have cried quite a few tears today and will keep the experiences of the last 2 weeks in my heart forever. I will miss China so much and Jack has been an amazing and is now a good friend.

Daisy is a mule and it was only a bad dream

2006-07-11T03:05:00.000-07:00

7th July, Urumqi

We are currently in Urumqi, the cosmopolitam and ethnically diverse capital of Xingjiang. It was very hot when we arrived yesterday, but last night a heavy wind drew in the storm clouds. It rained during the night and again this morning and the temperature feels more English than we have experienced in the last 2 months.
We haver another day off here; are we starting to take it easy you might ask? Unfortunately this is a 'day in the office' day off, rather than a 'touristy' day off. We have already put in a 2 hour internet session this morning and have just started our afternoon session. Internet cafes have become our third home, coming after the inside of TT and the inside of hotel rooms. Still, not complaining, we are both becoming confirmed techogeeks.

Last time I wrote we were about to go on our donkey cart ride in Turpan. We both felt foolish to discover that Daisy was in fact a mule, which we worked out after asking how many baby donkeys she had produced and being informed that Daisy was unable to produce offspring. After studying the other donkeys in Turpan we realised that Daisy was too big to have ever been a donkey. Her mother was though and I am not sure how much female donkeys like pushing out large mules after having being mated by a horse. So, I have yet to discover real donkey smell and the ferrety, horsey, doggy smell is actually that of a mule. Sorry Daisy!

Daisy and her Uigher driver took us firstly to see the Emin Minaret; a large brick built brown mosque, which was quite impressive because of the different designs used in the brickwork. Next, we headed into the countryside and the Uigher villages. It was like being transported to a different country. The writing was all in Uigher, the smiley faces that shouted out 'hello' looked very different and the houses and smells were different. The Uighers mostly have 'exotic Asian eyes' (that is how I describe oriental eyes), although not as pronounced as the rest of South East Asia. Some of them have blue or green eyes, brown hair and their skin tone goes from dark brown to pure white. They do not look a homogeneous race and over the centuries I think they have mixed with other ethnic groups, although our guide says this is quite rare. I suppose it is like every country, some people look different to others. I am English, but only a quarter of my blood actually comes from England, the other quarter from New Zealand and the remaining half Swiss Italian.

Yesterday morning we left Turpan and were allowed to drive on The Expressway. We couldn't believe our luck. The reason for this priveledge was that the old road was seriously under construction and all vehicles were mixed together on the super speedy highway that we have spent the best part of last month fantasising about. TT loved it and used her 550cc engine to enjoy her new speed limit (100km/hour). The main advantage was that ther tarmac (oh god, not going on about tarmac again Jo!!) was free of irregularities i.e. potholes, bumps and vehicles driving the opposite direction were the other side of the central reservation separated by a barrier. This enabled the driving to be considerably less stressful, because nothing could overtake coming the other way and play chicken with us. We sped along and visited the 'Dead Sea' of China. For about an hour we got to float in extremely salty and slightly chilly water, while Chinese techno was blasted out from a nearby building. The lake was surrounded by rugged brown mountains on one side and the snow capped peaks of the Tien Shan range on the other. It wasn't as beautiful and romantic as it sounds though, because lots of Dong Feng lorries were driving up and down to the lake to harvest the salt and the water was brown.

After that we carried on towards Urumqi and were met by the side of the Expressway by a Xingjiang TV crew. They carried out a brief interview in Chinese, while our guide translated for us. He said that he told them that we use terrible language, but I don't believe him. The swear box has been successful and we are now using only the best parts of the english language (as Pedigree Chum uses only the finest parts of the animal for their dog food). The TV crew followed us down the Expressway and filmed us with their meaty Sony camera. They had their hazards lights on and didn't pay much attention to the Dong Fengs beeping and nearly causing a TT sandwich, which I am sure would have provided some excellent TV footage at our expense. Our arrival to Urumqi was slowed on the outskirts by a large truck that was perpendicular to the road, blocking both lanes. Quite how it came to be in that position I do not understand, because it did not appear to have been in an accident. Another mystery from Chinese roads.

We arrived at our hotel and were met by some journalists from a local paper. This is the first bit of media work we have done in the whole of our China visit. We first had to unload the spares from TT's roofrack because she needed to sleep in an underground carpark with low headroom. We discovered that our radiator fluid had leaked everywhere, soaking most of her spares and ruining our cardboard boxes. I am not sure how much spark plugs (all 8 of them) like radiator fluid and hopefully they will be OK after drying off. I am sorry to say that during those 10 minutes the swear box went straight out of the window. Anyway, not the end of the world and I needed access to the spares to change an indicator and headlight bulb anyway.
TT saga sorted and we went out to lunch with the journalists and Jack's boss at the CSITS. Ants asked for a noodle dish with no meat, but which appeared with little strips of sausage in it. I think poor Ants is being prepared for the meat loving Russian countries coming up in our itinerary.

In the evening Ants and I felt a tad rough. I had a tummy ache and Ants had a headache- after taking some Chinese medicine we both felt a little better. Jack had organised for us to go to a night of Uigher entertainment. There was a huge buffet and then we were entertained by tight rope artists (suspended 100ft up with no safety net or harnesses), traditonal Uigher songs and dance performances. Our spirits were lifted and it was a brilliant evening- thanks Jack for organising it.

This morning we both slept in late and then did internet session number one. This was followed by lunch courtesy of the CSITS in Beijing with Jack and his boss. I got to sample my favourite Chinese dish from back home, Duck pancakes. It was very tasty but slightly different flavours to in the UK. I have found this before when travelling in India. My favourite Indian dish in England is chicken korma, but I don't like korma in India. I did like my pancakes, but they were just a bit different i.e. no cucumber, the sauce was less sweet, the pancakes were more heavy, the duck was more juicy. Ants asked for some garlic which they said they didn't have. Jack told them that was rubbish because they cook with garlic. In the NW Ants and I have taken to eating raw cloves of garlic before lunch and supper. It is good for the body and particularly the immune system, but very bad for the breath. About 20 minutes later they returned with 50 cloves on a plate, skinned and washed for Ants to eat. Unfortunately we were both full up and only managed one each. We only expected a few cloves and found this garlic mountain highly amusing. People in the restaurant watched with interest as we ate the garlic.

We will be leaving China in three days and I will be so sad to go. It is such a great country and I shed a few tears at the thought this afternoon. I am sure there will be real waterworks at the border. We are both apprehensive about Kazakhstan, after hearing the story from another traveller who had some problems getting insurance at the border. Our fears have been slightly allayed after Ants has just spoken to an insurance company who promised we can get insurance at the border- fingers crossed.

I have been having some horrible dreams recently, hence the title of this blog. The first was being told by medical school that I wasn't suitable for them and therefore my place was taken away and my dreams of becoming a Dr ruined. My second dream was that we went to Kazakhstan and people were on drugs and trying to kill us with knives. I was having a panic attack and we couldn't find a hotel or escape. The place I dreamt about wasn't really Kazakhstan but a fiction produced by my slightly anxious imagination.

Kazakhstan we love you

2006-07-11T00:03:00.000-07:00

* Please scroll down as have posted three blogs at once - two written earlier but only posted now due to lack of internet. Enjoy.

Apartment on Samal 2, Almaty, Kazakhstan

Yesterday was without doubt one of the most surreal and extraordinary days of my life. After all the sleepless nights, the worry, the ‘would we ever make it’ fears we had, Jo, TT and I made it safe and sound to Kazakhstan, the land of milk and honey we had been dreaming of through all our Chinese tukathon. And now here I am, sitting in our rented apartment, looking out on the Tien Shan mountains, with China already slipping into the confines of my memory.

Yesterday started early, before sunrise. As we hauled our luggage out of the yurt and into Ting Tong the sun was just beginning to stain the horizon orange and cast her golden cloak over the lake and mountains. The odd herdsman cantered past and a group of Chinese tourists looked on curiously as we pulled off TT’s cover to reveal the pink lady herself. But Ting Tong dug her heals in. She didn’t want to leave China either, or more likely, she didn’t like the cold dawn air. For half an hour we tried to start her, but she stubbornly refused. A couple of times the engine wheezed into life for a few seconds, then died again. The next option was to push her onto the road, where there was a slight incline, and give her a rolling start. The Chinese tourists quickly came to our help, and TT was pushed about 30m into the starting gates. What a funny sight, TT being pushed by a selection of Chinese, English and Uigurs against a background of yurts and grazing animals. Then, thanks goodness, our luck changed. A Chinese man – whom assured us he was ‘velly good driver’ – climbed into the cockpit and got a tune out of her. We were off. Of all the mornings Tingers could have chosen to have a tantrum…..

Our last 100 km of China were beautiful. The road wound through the mountains, past beekeepers, herdsmen, brightly decorated yurts and herds of horses and foals. Rarely has England felt so far away.

Then we hit the maelstrom of the border. We did our usual and weaved TT in and out of the queues of coaches to the front of the fray. At once a crush of people closed in on us. Wads of Tenge – Kazakhstan currency – were waved at us, offering blackmarket exchange. Gold teeth flashed and questions were fired at us in Russian. Luckily Jack and TT worked their combined magic and a guard ushered us through the gates in front into the Chinese border compound. TT squeezed in amongst more coaches, a Chihuahua amongst greyhounds, and Jack and Jo went inside to investigate. In no time several Kazakh bus drivers came up to me and starting asking questions, their smiles revealing more mouthfuls of gold teeth. To my dismay I learnt that it was 370 km’s to Almaty on only OK roads. My hopes of our making it that night clouded.

The prognosis wasn’t good when Jack and Jo returned. Hundreds of people were inside and there seemed to be little order to the proceedings. Then once again Lady Luck came to our aid and without really understanding what was going on we were in and out after no more than an hour. A quick, sad goodbye to Jack and we were on our own, and crossing the divide into Kazakhstan, full of trepidation as to what lay ahead. Our first impression was good. A tall, handsome, camo clad soldier with a large rifle slung over his shoulder stopped us and told us where to go, in Russian of course. Upon seeing our confusion he hopped onto the side of TT and hitched a ride 100 m to the next point, truck drivers whistling as we tukked past. More soldiers then pointed us towards the main area and we were let through some gates to where the action was. Since Kazakhstan has been my organizational baby, along with Russia and the Ukraine, I left Jo with TT and with an armful of documents went to investigate the situation.

Inside chaos abounded. A sea of baggage laden Kazakh and Uigur families, interspersed with the odd Russian, jostled to get to the front. It looked like we were going to have to unload all our luggage again (we’d had to do it on the Chinese side) to get it scanned and use a lot of elbows in the process. I went out to Jo and told her the bad news, and we began the laborious process of putting all our things on a huge trolley. By this time a group of intimidating looking guards, all with guns, had gathered round. I answered their questions, told them about the trip, showed them our Russian press release. Laughter and smiles ensued, phew. Then a very tall official with a large badge and Terminator style shades appeared, clearly the boss. What happened next was quite extraordinary. After verbally confirming we had no contraband, our luggage was loaded back onto TT. We were led inside, taken to the front of the heaving throng and our passports stamped, while the guards talked about ‘Beckham’ and ‘Rooney’ with us. The people who had been fighting for hours to get to the front of the melee justifiably glowered at us. Then we were told to drive TT round the side, where, accompanied by the big boss in the big shades we had all our vehicle documentation stamped and verified. The boss asked us if we had husbands, told us about his several wives and children, asked about the trip. He then disappeared off for a few minutes and returned with a bagful of chocolates, cold drinks, a Russian doll and a carved wooden box. Most amazing of all was the fact that he pushed a fistful of Tenge into my hand, and refused to accept any $’s in return. Here was one of the apparently notoriously corrupt Kazakh officials giving us presents and money, about $40. To top it all off, he climbed in the back seat with me and led us the 1 km out of the border area, soldiers saluting him all the way and gates swinging open in haste. We thanked him effusively and he was gone, another guardian angel sent to help us home. What a feeling of relief and happiness swept over us, I felt like crying I was so happy. A few Km’s later we came to the very final border checkpoint, where a group of young soldiers again creased into laughter and asked a barrage of questions about Ting Tong before we were off. What an incredible few hours. Something we had been so fearful of had turned out to be a highlight of the trip. We couldn’t believe our luck and twenty minutes later pulled over beside the quiet country road and just took it all in for a few moments.

I’ve gone on long enough so I won’t write an essay about the 8 hours to Almaty. But we made it. At eight thirty we found our apartment, I rang the doorbell and there was my mother. So lovely to see her and know she made it here safe as well. The drive here was beautiful, lots of donkey carts, huge wide open spaces, mountains, VERY strong winds and lots of waving and gold toothed smiles from the Kazakhs. VW Santana’s have been replaced by Audis, Ladas and Mercs. And Dong Feng’s by the indomitable Kamaz’. Although sad to leave China rarely have I been so pleased to arrive anywhere than here last night, and what a great thought that we’ve got four or five days to recuperate before we hit the road again.

Xx Ants

A perfect goodbye to China

2006-07-11T00:02:00.000-07:00

* Written July 9th - again posted late due to no internet

Saryam Lake, Xinjiang Province. July 9th 2006

Our last day in China. How strange. At last after 30 days of driving across this massive country the Kazakh border is within spitting distance, a mere 60 km or so west from here. The last month has been an intense experience; exhausting, exhilarating, stressful, hilariously funny, mindblowingly beautiful, frustrating and immensely rewarding. After all the trials and tukulations that China has put us through I never felt I would be feeling sad to leave it behind. But I am. We couldn’t be spending our last day here in a more idyllic setting, yet today is tinged with a sadness that has really surprised me. More than anything I can’t believe that we have been on the road for six weeks, and that we are half way home. It’s as if the gears of time have gone into fast-forward and are catapulting us towards our final destination in turbo mode. And although we are both appreciating every moment there’s nothing we can do to slow it down. It’s like trying to grasp a handful of sand, the more you clutch at it the faster it disappears. Before we know it Jo, Ting Tong and I will be back in England, and all the weird and wonderful experiences we are having will be locked in the catacombs of our mind. But that’s life, just chapters of memories to be cherished and learnt from.

Yesterday was a tuk to the road personal best. We left Urumqui at 9 a.m, the streets still deserted due to the city living on Xinjiang time (although the clocks here are officially set to Beijing time the people live 2 hours behind, the same as Kazkahstan and the rest of Central Asia), and arrived at this magic lake at 8.30 pm last night. Eleven and a half hours on the road, and 650 km’s covered. The day seemed so long that I couldn’t get my head round the fact that it had all happened in a single day. From Urumqui to here we had crossed desert, steppe, fields of sunflowers, empty scrub land and wheat fields, guided all the way by the aptly named Tien Shan - Heavenly – mountains. We set off in the morning unsure of our destination, our fate to be decided by whether we were allowed on the expressway. Our fist attempt failed and the irate lady at the toll told us to tuk off in no uncertain fashion. Undeterred, we tried the toll gate about 20 km further west. Again the guards shook their heads and told us to be off to the old road, where other three-wheeled beasts dwelt. But he also added that a few km’s further on there was a slip road where we could surreptitiously tuk onto the expressway. Which of course we did. The next 450 km’s were spent speeding along on glorious tarmac, slipping through tolls before they could change their mind and waving merrily at policeman who we were convinced would stop us. Although Jo and I feel that not being allowed on the expressways has in fact turned out for the best, there are times when it’s a joy to be on them. Without yesterday’s luck we would never have made it to Saryam Lake last night and been able to spend our last day in China riding, walking and enjoying the unspoilt wilderness of China’s final frontier.

A bit about the lake. Pronounced ‘Salim’ Lake, it’s the largest mountain lake in China, covering a vast 500 km 2 and up to 92m deep in parts. For me, this is how Heaven would look if it existed – cobalt blue water, brilliant green pastures, perfect velveteen mountains, eagles drifting lazily on the wind, an effusion of wild flowers of every colour, yurts dotting the grassland and Kazakh and Wi nomads herding their animals on horses. I’d like to set up a yurt and spend a long time here, with a large pile of books and lots of tea. Jo has been taking the piss out of me as she says my new obsession is yurts, which I think it is. First it was the Hmong, then the Hexi Corridor, then the Uigurs, now Yurts. But yurts really are awesome and I might have to live in one when I get back to England. Mine might have to have central heating though as it was pretty chilly last night, even with most of the contents of my rucksack and 3 duvets on.

Apart from feeling sad about leaving China today has been perfect. Jo, Jack and I went riding this morning, up into the mountains and across some very gallopable grassland. Last time I rode with Jo was when we used to get bolted with on our horses at home, aged about 14, laughing too much to do anything about stopping. Today was a bit more genteel, and apart from the odd canter we mostly just lazed along at a walk or trot and enjoyed the view. Everyone here has horses, they’re their livelihood. They spend their whole lives on their four-legged friends, herding their flocks, then eat them when they get too old to work. Being a vegetarian, I was delighted to read in our Central Asian Lonely Planet this morning that horsemeat is also a national specialty in Kazakhstan. Horse sausage, horse intestine, horse liver…horse everything. I’ll just stick to the veggies thanks.

So tomorrow morning, early, we pack up TT for the last time in China and head west to the border at Khorgos. We should reach the border by 9 a.m, then with a bit of luck be on the way to Almaty a few hours later. Its 300 km’s to Almaty and the roads are allegedly good, so we should be there by early evening, to meet up with my mother who is flying in from the UK tonight. Fingers crossed we will be having a celebratory first Kazkakh dinner tomorrow night, and all our worries about the border will have been for nothing. Lets hope our guardian angels are with us.

Finally, apropos to absolutely nothing, half of one of my teeth feel out yesterday morning whilst eating a dried mulberry. What with the 15 grey hairs I found before we started the trip, you might as well put me in an old people’s home now and be done with it. I advise everyone to avoid dried mulberries, they are extremely dangerous.

Till Kazakhstan xx Ants

Borat be with us

2006-07-07T03:57:00.000-07:00

* Written on July 7th - only postd now due to lack of internet

Dark, smoky, teenager filled Cyber Cafe, Urumqui City. Xinjiang. NW CHina.

After 4000 miles and 28 days we have nearly made it through China. I can't quite believe it. As we struggled along yet another rutted dirt track in Yunnan and Guizhou there were moments when I wondered if we would ever make it this far, let alone get back to England. So its quite a feeling to actually be within sight of the Kazakh border, and at the half way point of Tuk to the Road. Even stranger is the thought that 7 weeks ago tomorrow Jo and I packed our rucksacks and flew out of Heathrow, reaching Thailand in 11 hours. Thats roughly one hour in a plane for one week in a tuk tuk.

The next major hurdle is Kazakhstan. Today we have had a day off in Urumqui, capital of Xinjiang. However, we have spent the majority of it in a darkened net bar, finalising arrangements for the border crossing and for our stay in Almaty. Poor David of Stan Tours (www.stantours.com) has been the recipient of a barrage of emails from me recently; should I use my Russian at the border or pretend I know none? How do we get our visas extended when it is technically illegal? How can we get vehicle insurance? Can he recommend a good hotel in Almaty. Etc etc. You may think its strange that we are two days from Kazkahstan and we still haven't arranged our vehicle insurance, but normally you can buy this at the border, and this is what we had been told was the case with Kazakhstan. But we have also heard, more recently, that if the border gurads are in the mood for a shakedown they can fine you for not having insurance already, so its a catch 22 situation. We have now found two Kazakh companies that might be able to help us, but getting through to the is the next problem, and me trying to explain in my very average Russian that we need insurance for a tuk tuk. So that's one issue we need to surmount.

The next is our Visa extensions. The Kazakhs are not keen on doing this, at all. But due to our Chinese delays we have to get one. So it seems we have to take a few days out and go to Bishkek, in Krygystan, to get a new visa. I'm sure Bishkek is a wonderful place but its a bit of a pain to have to go to such lengths for such a simple requirement. Moreover, we've got about 4 days in Almaty and a stack of things to do. As its our half way point and Jo, TT and I are in serious need of some R&R, we always planned to have a few days off here. TT needs a service, Jo and I need to chill out and check out some of Almaty's clubs, and moreover my Ma is flying out from the UK to meet us. At the moment we've got quite a busy few days in Almaty: the
British Embassy have organised a press conference with the local press and a
charity there which deals with the mentally ill, we've got an appointment
with Reuters who want to film us tukking off into the steppes, we've got an interview with a Russian magazine and a Russian paper. And we will probably have to make a dash to Bishkek.

Could write a whole lot more as we've had a really interesting few
days, and a great night in Urumqui last night, but got to sort out more
Kazakhstan stuff and my eyes are going square. More soon xx Ants

Roast arm of Ants with garlic and rosemary

2006-07-05T02:52:00.000-07:00

A strange title for a blog one might think, but this was an actual conversation in the back of TT as we tukked through the Gobi desert. It is very very hot here and the heat is dry. As we are driving it is like being in a fan assisted oven. We are continually developing our lopsided tans and the left side of our bodies will be much more tanned than the right side. When we return to England we may be classified as a rare hybrid version of the brown and white zebra.

Currently having a rest day in magical NW China. We are staying in a city called Turpan, which is located on the ancient Silk Road. It is an oasis in the remote Gobi desert, watered by cleverly constructed irrigation channels. This morning we visited the Karez irrigation museum and saw the channels that the water travels down from the Tien Shan mountains. The current irrigation channels have been actively working for the last 300 years and prior to that there were other irrigation channels from the mountains, although not as extensive. Turpan is a paradise for growing 600 varieties of grapes and the most delicious melons. There are a number of vine covered pedestrianised walkways in the city, which provide some much needed shade from the scorching summer heat.

During the day it is too hot to really do anything, other than seek shelter from the heat (42 C today). In the past and still in outlying villages, people retreat to underground rooms in their houses, only to resurface in the evening. People also sleep outside- last night there were beds pulled out into the street and around the main square. We opted to sleep in our a/c bedroom.

This morning we visited the ancient city of Jaiohe, with its clay constructed buildings and walls, now mostly in a crumbling state. However, it was still one of our favourite touristy expeditions and the bright blue sky really set off the remains to their full beauty. I took 36 photos, which I will get back from the developers this evening.

We have spent the last 2 days prior to today covering over 900km in TT. The roads have been good and we cover 450km in between 7 anjd 8 hours. I never thought this would be possible after are painful journeys in Yunnan, where it took us the best part of 10 hours to cover under 200km. TT is amazing as always and her temperature (oil) has yet to go over half way. She is definitely a hot weather tuktuk and I think the English winter will be a real shock to her system. I think most English cars would find the desert heat difficult to deal with.

From Dunhaung we drove 450km to Hami, famous throughout China for its melons. They are delicious and best eaten cold. A truck driver (not a Dong Feng but a FAW) was kind enough to give us a large Hami melon, which we are storing in our fridge to enjoy later this evening. The truck drivers here (NW China) seem more relaxed and actually have given way to us on a couple of occassions. The roads are less busy, blissfully straight and flat and the tarmac far superior to anything we experienced in south and central China.

Yesterday morning was very strange. We got up at 6am and planned to leave at 6.30am, but our guide was still asleep and we didn't leave until 6.30am. Then, he got us hopelessly lost in Hami and we did not manage to leave the city until 7.30am. So much for trying to avoid the heat of the afternoon. He actually uttered an expletive , much to my suprise as he doesn't like us using 'bad words' and consequently a swear box has been put in place. For each swear word that we utter, we pay him a fine of 1 yuan. Ants managed to lose us 7 yuan during supper in Dunhuang. I am glad to say that we are now speaking like true ladies (most of the time). Sorry, Jo goes off on another tangent. So, we finally left Hami and it was cold enough for us to wear jumpers. Then, it started to pour with rain and became very windy. It must have been about 10 C and we sat shivering in TT with all of the rain covers down. I couldn't secure the front covers properly and had to hold them in place with my feet, sitting on my poncho so that I didn't get too wet. Because of the wind and rain we sat by the side of the road until the worst of the weather had passed. Jack said that he had never experienced a rain storm like that in the desert before- we felt truly honoured. Later in the day the sky became clear blue and we were blessed with a 30 C increase in temperature.

Most of the traffic on the roads was trucks filled with thousands of Hami melons, being driven thousands of km to other parts of China by the long suffering lorry drivers. They drive almost continually and work in shift patterns- one sleeps while the other drives. Definitely not a job that I envy.

Driving through the desert is a real pleasure and the landscapes are so raw and remote. It makes you so happy to be alive. Yesterday we tukked past the flaming mountains, a range over 100km long that glow various shades of red and orange druing the hours of daylight.

Tonight we are hiring a donkey cart and going to explore the local rural areas. We met the donkey yesterday and named her Daisy. Dhe is 9 years old and has the most gorgeous big velevty brown ears. I have never smelt a donkey before and I would describe as a cross between horse, ferret and dog- really quite strange and unique. Ferrets smell the best though. Ants checked her feet, coat and body for any rubbed areas from her harness and declared that she was in good nick and OK for us to take out this evening.

Tomorrow we head 200km west to the capital city of Xinjiang province, Urumqi. This also Jack's home city and he is going to show us around and take us to a Uigher performance. I think Ants has filled you in on the Uighers. She attracted a potential Uigher suitor last night, who was very large and smelt of sheep. He was also very drunk and kept saying 'yes, no, yes, no'. Eventually he left us in peace to enjoy our lamb kebabs cooked in a Uigher restaurant by a Uigher family. We love the Uighers.

Enough, my fingers are tired and we need to go and pick up Daisy soon. Lots of love from NW China- everyone should visit this area, it is amazing.

Scorchio

2006-07-05T02:03:00.000-07:00

The Turpan Grand Hotel, Turpan, Xianjiang Uigur Autonomous Province, North West China

The Main Temple Courtyard at Jiaohe, Turpan

Its 42 degress outside and after a morning of exploring in the scorching heat Jo and I have retreated indoors to blog and sort out Kazakhstan issues. We arrive at the border in six days and still have a few things to do to ensure the crossing goes smoothly and we have the correct documents and insurance. Kazakhstan has the potential to be our most difficult country; corruption is endemic and even if we have everything in order there is nothing to say that we won't be held up at the border by guards wanting to make a quick dollar. So we are going to be armed with letters from our embassy, our press release in Russian, newspaper clippings and a big smile...and pray that we won't run into a problems. Olov, a Swedish guy we have been in touch with who did the crossing recently on a 1938 bike and sidecar he bought in Beijing, had his bike confiscated and got a hefty $500 fine at the border. He's now hired a lawyer to sort out his problems and has advised us to go back to Beijing and cross into Mongolia - and avoid Kazakhstan at all costs. Too late. So all we can do is cover everything and hope the guards are feeling charitable when we arrive.

Last night we arrived in Turpan, one of the old Silk Road cities, a manmade oasis inhabiting the second lowest point on the planet. At 80 metres below sea level only the Dead Sea lies at a lower depression. Such unusual topography means that the Turpan basin has baking hot summers and viciously cold winters. In July the average temperature is 39 degrees whilst in winter this plummets to -20. Add to this that there is NO rainfall here and you wonder why people ever settled here. Water is provided by an ingenious irrigation system, conceived over 2000 years ago, whereby water from the mountains and glaciers is chanelled to the area via 5000km's of underground pathways. The system provides 2 billion m3 of water per year and means Turpan has flourished as one of Xinjiang's key cities for over 2000 years. Incredible.

Jack was so worried about driving here in the blistering heat yesterday that for the second time in a week we were up at 6, with TT loaded and rearing to go by 6.30. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Jack. Half an hour later he appeared, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and aplogising profusely for the fact that he had slept in. After getting lost leaving Hami for another half an hour we eventually got onto the road for Turpan and started our 410 km tuk through the Gobi. Except for a freak rainstorm at 9.30 a.m which had us scrambling for the rain covers and getting soaked, our desert drive was uneventful. Jo and I just thanked our guardian angels that the roads here are a million miles better than in the south - straight and pothole free. Amazingly, we arrived in Turpan by 3 pm. Never could we have dreamed of covering such mileage in so little time a few weeks ago.

As I mentioned a few blogs ago, Xinjiang is an extraordinary place, bordered by eight countries and home to the Uigur (pronounced wee-ger) people. 13 million people live in Xinjiang, 8 million of whom are Uigurs. In the 1950's 90 % of the population here was Uigur, but thanks to the regions huge reserves of oil and gas underneath the Taklamakan and Gobi deserts the Chinese are slowly but surely tightening their cultural and economic grip on the area. As we drove across the Gobi yersterday this presence was immediately apparent with nodding oil derricks spotting the desert as far as the eye could see.

The Uigurs are so different from the Chinese it seems strange that they should even come under the Dragon's flag. They are a Turkic people, whose language and song was lauded by ancient Arabic historians. All edicts from the court of the mighty Genghis Khan were in Uigur and one Arabic historian even commented that 'He who knows the Uigur language will never experience poverty'. Buddhists until the 14th century, today they worship Islam, and of the 24, 000 places of worship in Xinjiang over 23,000 are Muslim. Moreover, they look completely different to the Chinese - more Turkish or European than Asian. Unfortunately, the Arab historian's aphorism hasn't held for today's Uigurs. Few speak Chinese or receive a proper education and hence are left with little hope for advancement in Chinese society. Furthermore, since 9/11 the Chinese have been busy arresting any Uigur's they suspect of Islamic Fundamentalism, despite their constantly harping on about religious and cultural equality for China's minority peoples.

Anyway, I feel that I am banging on a bit...so a brief bit about where we went this morning and that's me for the day.

Jo, Jack and I have had another day off today so with hats, suncream and buckets of water we headed off to 'the ancient city of Jiaohe' this morning. We didn't even wake up till 10.30 so by the time we made it there it was boiling hot. We did have a plan to cycle, but after seeing the state of the ancient bikes decided a taxi was a far better option. Any movement in this heat is unadvisable, I went for a run the other evening and felt in danger of melting entirely.

Jiahe was far and away our favourite Chinese 'scenic spot'. In short, its the ruins of a 3000 year old city, built of clay, destroyed in Buddhist vs Islamic wars in the 14th century. It was the first 'scenic spot' we've visited which hasn't been ruined, plasticised and plagued with tacky vendors and recalcitrant camels. Yet another point scored for North West China. For two hours we wandered around, took pics, groaned about the heat and tried to imagine what it would have been like 1000 years ago, with 7,000 inhabitants and a river 30 metres deep. Then it was time for wine tasting , lunch and air-conditioning. Later this evening we've requisitioned a donkey cart to take us on a wee trip into the countryside, in the company of a few cool Pineapple beers (bit sweet but good for the thirst). Then tomorrow its 187 km's west to Urumqui, capital of Xinjiang, for another day off and an enroute swim in a salt lake. That's it from me, Jo is tapping away next to me too so its a double wammy today. xx Ants

PS More pics added

Sand dunes and beautiful tarmac

2006-07-02T07:28:00.000-07:00

Dunhguang, oasis in Gansu Province (north west China)

The last few days have been good. It's hard to tell why we are both feeling more perky and positive, but it could be a number of reasons. Although we are still driving long hours (11 yesterday), we are having a lot of fun and don't crash out in the back after two hours in the driving seat. Our new guide Jack could be partly responsible for our happiness. He is great fun and together we have a real laugh and some good breaks during our long days. With Sam, you could tell he wasn't happy if we stopped to take photos or have a coffee break. Jack has his own camera (old school SLR) and is as happy as we are when good photo opportunities arise e.g. when we drove next to The Great Wall the other day. Yesterday we had a short strawberry, cucumber, tomato and coffee break, which was very pleasant but ended in a messy food fight. Another reason for feeling good is that we feel that we have cracked China. During the first week it was a real mental and physical struggle having to deal with the long hours, heavy traffic and terrible roads. Now we are heading west, driving longer distances and coping with it well. We will be leaving China in another week, but would happily stay for longer to explore the remote northwestern provinces. Tomorrow we will hit the 7000km marker and we are making good progress and keeping to our schedule. Once we arrive in Kazkhstan the pressure will reduce as we are no longer confined to a strict itinerary and can take a rest day as we need it.

Today was our first real day off i.e. no hanging around to extend our visas. We had a lie in, after watching England cruelly losing to Portugal int the World Cup- they must have felt like it was 2002 all over again. The referee was OTT sending off Rooney- I hope he isn't vilified the way Beckham was when he was sent off 8 years ago.

Sorry, I digressed. 11.30am and I finally peeled myself from bed- Ants had to tell me to stop snoring at 8am, to which I did my usual grunt, rolled over and stopped sounding like a man. I must have caught my snoring from my mother, which is strange because we are not genetically related. Still, the camping holiday in Scotland probably taught me how to snore very well and I think nurture often beats nature anyway.

Oops, I went off on another unnecessary tangent. Around midday we went into town and I delivered my films to get developed- 5 whole films starting in Laos that I was desperate to see. The climate here is very hot an dry. Very good for sunbathing, but not so good for charging around sightseeing. We relaxed under a tree and had a light lunch and some tea. I am now so used to Chinese tea that I think it will be strange to go back to English tea and I never thought I would say that (in England I drink about 10 cups a day with lots of milk and 2 sugars).

I went to collect my photos and Ants and I enjoyed going through them all. They are mostly good with the odd out of focus one thrown in for good measure. Now, I need a good hour to go through them properly and put them into albums- they came in a huge stack of over 150. After lunch we went back to the hotel and planned to have a short rest before giving TT a bath. She is absolutely covered in mud and muck- in some places nearly an inch thick. Ants went outside to read her book in the sun while I had a doze, but she returned after about 20 minutes because the sun was too hot (about 36 degrees). I then had a nap and Ants went off to use the internet. We felt like we ought to go and see Mogao caves today- the mind was willing but the body less so. Aa this was our first real break for nearly a month we both felt like we shouldn't push ourselves to do everything. We both know that we will return to northwest China and will then have the time and the energy to spent a full day exploring the caves and their Buddhist art.

This evening we headed to the 300 metre high sand dunes 6km south of town. I have never seen such huge sand dunes before and they were really fantastic. They would have been even better if they had not been quite so touristified (mum, I know that is not a real word). We had to pay an entrance fee, money for our camel ride (too hard to walk up a steep sand dune as Ants later discovered), money to go sand toboganning, money to go quad biking and then more money when the quad bike dudes asked for a tip (cheeky monkeys). Still, we had a great time, got covered in sand and enjoyed having the spirit and energy to just be tourists and unwind.

Our camels were the two humped Bactrian variety, but they had lost their shaggy brown winter coats and looked more like their one humped cousins. Did you know that Bactrian camels have been domesticated for over 3000 years and their wild brothers only number about 500 in the Gashun Gobi in China (very near here)- about 1000 also live in Mongolia. I have just finised a brilliant book where a British explorer tracked the migration route of the wild Bactrians right in this part of China. I could bore you with more Bactrian facts but I won't for now. I named my camel Pot Noodle and Ants called her's Clark Gable. We named Jack's Sam!!!!! I was petting Clark and he tried to nip me the cheeky bugger.

Jack and I climbed a sand dune using wooden steps, but Ants decided to be adventurous and climb the dune itself. Two steps forward and one step back- it looked exhausting and we were glad that we had accessed the dunes on the back of our camels. Jack challenged Ants to climb the whole way and if she did he would buy her 0.5kg of raisins and 0.5kg of lemons. This was enough for Ants to stagger up the dune puffing and panting to claim her prize. She then celebrated by doing handstands, before we descended at full speed on sand toboggans.

A brief explanation about the title of the blog- the sand dunes have already been explained. The beautiful tarmac part occurred yesterday, as I drove TT the final 120km to Dunhuang on the most beautiful black, smooth, wide and deserted tarmac. It was an absolute pleasure for us all and TT enjoyed flexing her 3 cylinders. Yesterday we drove 450km- a new Tuk to the Rod record. Ants said a great comment yesterday. As we drove through some sand dunes, she commented that she had never seen a sand dune before. Ants lives in North Norfolk and goes walking on Holkham beach regularly which are flanked by many sands dunes!

Time up for the internet. Hope you've all had a good weekend and more blogging soon. Jo, xoxoxo

Ting Tong hits the desert

2006-07-02T01:39:00.000-07:00

Dunhuang, Gansu Province, North-West China

Perfect Desert Road, Xinjiang

At last, after 24 days tukking, Jo and I are having a proper day off. Bliss. Moreover, Dunhuang couldn't be a better spot to have it at. An oasis town, teetering on the edge of the Ganshun Gobi desert, Dunhuang is famous largely for the Mogao Caves. Unless you are an afficionado of Buddhist art or the peregrinations of Aurel Stein, you probably haven't heard of these. And I am slighly ashamed to admit that since the caves need the best part of a day to see, we've opted instead to go paragliding, sand dune tobogganing and sun lounging. I know, total Philistines the pair of us. But if you want to know more about the Silk Road, Stein's looting of the Mogao Treasures and the understandable chagrin of the Chinese then I highly recommend Peter Hopkirk's Foreign Devils on the Silk Road.

In a nutshell however, the caves are one of China's most important archaeological sites and house a vast collection of ancient Buddhist art and manuscripts. When the trading routes along the Silk Road dried up in the 14th century the caves were sealed and it wasn't until 1907 that Stein, a Hungarian secret agent / explorer in the employ of the British Government, heard rumour of these newly rediscovered caves and brought over 7,000 manuscripts back to Britain, where they still remain, languishing in the vaults of the British Museum. Anyway, I won't waffle on about somewhere we haven't even been....

Yesterday was an incredible day on the road. We got up at 6 a.m, ugh, and left soon after. Jo and I are both rubbish at getting up so rising at such an ungodly hour was a feat in itself. Bleary eyed, we packed up Ting Tong and headed for Dunhuang. The spectre of 270 km's of roadworks was large in our minds, but thank God Jack had got in with the locals the night before and heard of an alternative route. So after only 10 km of construction we turned left and headed into the desert. Ting Tong once again proved her supertuktuk powers, trundling through deep sand, along gravel roads, dodging potholes. The km's ticked by - 100, 200, 300... until finally after 330 km's we hit the most perfect bit of tarmac you could ever imagine. Not in my wildest dreams could I imagine that such a road existed in China. Perfect, black, smooth and straight as an arrow. So for the last 120 km's we sped through the desert, sand engulfing our vision on all sides, whooping with excitement at the state of the road. At 9.30 last night, after more than 14 hours tukking, Dunhuang loomed out of the desert sunset; we had arrived - 450 km's and 14 hours later. Although fairly tired, Jo and I felt strangely elated at having completed such a huge distance, across such breathtaking land. There's something about such wide open spaces that really lifts the spirits. We wondered, that if we felt this excited after a single day's achievment, how we will feel when we finally arrive in Brighton. I have tried to imagine it so many times but my imagination fails me, only time will tell.

After unloading TT and checking into yet another identikit Chinese hotel, the three of us pottered down to the night market to have some tiffin. The further west we go, the less Chinese the food and culture becomes, and the market last night was redolent of an Arabian souk as opposed to a Chinese street. Vendors sweated over shish kebabs and nearly all the men sported Muslim skullcaps. Sheeps heads grinned macabrely from tables and soon to be barbequeued fish took final laps of their tanks. Whilst Jack and Jo feasted on various parts of the sheep's anatomy, I ate veggie kebabs and garlic. Garlic - its omnipresent here. At every table is a bowl of peeled, raw garlic and Jo and I have taken to munching through fistfuls every day, enough to kill a herd of Vampires stone dead. I ate 15 yesterday, only about 6 today though. Crikey we must smell.

Today has been such a treat. In 36 degrees heat we've explored the market, bought the sweetest melons and apricots, drunk ginger beer in the sunshine, read, washed TT and done about every sand based activity you can imagine. I'm sitting here now, smeeling quite garlicky, with sand glued to my eyelashes and a fifteen year old hoicking and phlegming enthusiastically on my right. Every internet cafe in China is the same; rammed with sweaty teenagers avidly playing computer games, smoking and spitting on the floor. Nice.

One thing about China that constantly disappoints is the 'scenic spots'. We've been to waterfalls, caves and now sand dunes, and none of them really excite. The Chinese have a special talent for taking a natural wonder and turning it into a plasticised (is that a word?) theme park. Today was a prime example. To see the sand dunes, which surround the city, you have to pay 80 Yuan - about 7 pounds. Then to climb the sand dune you have to pay another 5 pounds to sit on a moody camel. At the top of that dune you fork out another few pounds to toboggan down 50 m of sand. Then if you want to go on a quad bike..which we did, you whip out another 100 Yuan each. Its a rip off by UK standards, let alone Chinese ones. And every 'scenic spot' is exactly the same. By far the most beautiful places we've seen in China are the untouched mountains, paddies and deserts that have flanked our route, uninvaded by vendors and tourists an untarnished by the Government's extortionate entrance fees. However, grumble aside, the dunes were a laugh and ridng a camel down into Dunhuang at sunset was a memorable experience.

Tomorrow we are off to Xinjiang, Jack's province, one of China's five autonomous provinces and home of the Uigur people. I'll write more about it later on as its a fascinating place bordered by: Russia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Mongolia, Tajikstan, Krygystan, Kazakhstan, India, Tibet and Gansu. A true cultural melting pot.

I've added a couple more pics to earlier blogs - one of the landslide and one of Jiayuguan Fort. Enjoy.

xx Ants

My new favourite food

2006-06-30T06:53:00.000-07:00

Jiayuguan, North-west China

Another day, another pair of underpants (as my friend Sarah Craig used to say at school). Today was a really good day. Not only were the roads brilliant, but we also visited the last fort stationed on The Great Wall in the west, here at Jiayuguan.

My last blog was incorrect about The Great Wall. It's total length is actually 25000km. This sounds huge, but there is not just one long wall that makes up The Great Wall, but several that pass from eatern China westwards. The building of the Great Wall (GW) started in 700BC and was extended over the coming centuries.

We set off this morning at the leisurely hour of 9.30am- a very late start for us. The tarmac was beautiful (Ants and I are keen tarmac enthusiasts) and we covered 100km in under 2 hours. These kinds of distances have not been covered in such a time since Thailand. I felt quite euphoric and we stopped for a cup of coffee in the petrol station to celebrate. The roads became slightly less smooth when Ants took over, but we were still travelling at 40mph, which is our speed limit here in China for a three wheeler.

The beauty of not taking the Expressways has become apparent to us and we now look down on those poor people who are stuck travelling at speeds in excess of 60mph. Well, occassionally we are a little envious. The positives of travelling on the old (and slower) road is that we can stop whenever we want to take photos or have a short break. We travel through completely untouristy villages and towns, where we can stop and eat lunch. The local people are interested in TT and we are interested in them. It is a mutually beneficial relationship. However, we aren't always impressed when they shake her to test the suspension or when they get in the driving seat and start changing gears. Sometimes we start the engine while we are eating lunch to give people a shock. We have a remote control that can set off alarms and stat and stop the engine within a range of a couple of hundred metres. It is quite funny watching 30 plus people jump- not in a nasty way and they always find it funny.

The title of the blog indicates that I have found a new favourite food here and I ate about .5 kg of it at supper. In Chinese restaurants in England we have toffee banana or apple- here they have toffee potato. It sounds a strange combination, but is delicious and great energy food. I think I could do my russian dancing for at least an hour after a plate of the stuff, although I haven't tries it yet. That reminds me, supper tonight was very amusing. We brought in our own beer and were drinking it from tiny tea cups. The waitress came over and poured Chinese tea into Jack's beer, which made us giggle. Then our food arrived- coriander salad (devil's herb), cooked celery (double yuck), my favourite new food, a tofu dish and a fish Jack had chosen from it's tank. Jack asked Ants if she liked Wasabi (Japanese mustard based rocket fuel for the taste buds). She said she did and so Jack poured the whole bowl of Wasabi over Ants' coriander salad. Ants took a large mouthful, went red, nearly choked and tears poured from her eyes. We all collapsed into laughter and the waitress must have thought we were bonkers. The toffee potatoes had totally set and so we tried to prise them apart with a combination of chopsticks (useless), fingers (a little better), toothpick (the best), knife and fork (food destroyed). Bits of toffee started flying everywhere, the table, the floor, on us. We laughed again and ate more toffee (i.e. pure sugar) than is probably good for us. Good fun and a tasty meal.

Our new guide Jack just highlights the differences between him and Sam. Jack is the sort of person we would be mates with back home and Sam was grumpy and somewhat uninspiring company. Jack always asks if we slept well, what food we would like etc... Sam never did any of this and would often keep us waiting 10+ minutes in the morning because he was still asleep. Jack sings, dances, is funny and charming and a great person to be around. He is not as good as map reading as Sam, but who cares. He is such a wicked guy and we hope he can come with us to the border. Currently, his boss is due to escort us from China (I think to make sure we leave), but it is unsettling changing guides and why would we want someone new for 2/3 days when Jack fits our threesome so well.

Jaiyuguan Fort was impressive- incrediblt steep walls that I am sure would have been very difficult for any enemy to penetrate. They had obviously done some reconstruction to make the site more complete e.g. parts of the walls were reinforced and the pavillions on top of the fort had been rebuilt. The views were inspiring in three directions: mountains, snow cappes peaks and desert. In one directiuon you could see the town and four ugly power plant chimneys. Video cameras were not meant to be allowed, but that didn't stop Ants hiding behind the walls and filming anyway. We finished our touristy duties witha trip to the GW museum, which provided and detailed history of The Wall and various battles that were fought over the ages. By comoparing notes with Jack we realised that they had accidently put the wrong length of the GW in Chinese (50,000km instead of 25,000km). Jack pointed this out to the museum staff and it will now be changed.

So, life is good with the tukkers. We still drive long days, but have now got used to it and 6 hours driving feels short and fun. China has been an experience from day 1, at times trying and exhausting, but the experiences we will take away and cherish for ever. I wouldn't rather be anywhere else, or with anyone else (Ants I love you).

Tukking the Great Wall by storm

2006-06-30T06:32:00.000-07:00

Jiayuguan, Gansu Province, North West China

View from Jiayuguan Fort, Gansu

Its funny to think that when Jo and I first got our Chinese itinerary from the CSITS we balked at the sight of a 566 km day, imagining the horror of driving for eight hours. Now here we are, 21 days into China, and today, at six hours, was far and away our shortest day on the road. Even eight hours falls into the short day bracket now, so used are we to arriving at our destination each night after upwards of ten hours tukking.

Gansu maye be a very poor province but boy are its roads better. Today we covered 260 km's in six hours, cruising along almost pothole free tarmac at a steady 50 km's per hour. Since we left Lanzhou a few days ago we have been heading west, along the old Silk Road, more used to carrying precious caravans of silk and spices than Ting Tongs. Our road has taken us along the Hexi Corridor, a 1000km stretch of land sandwiched between mountains to the south and the Gobi Desert to the north. For centuries this was the trading route between China and the West, the only way for goods and people to cross the cultural and geographical divide. Today spanking new expressway stretches across the wilderness, a far cry from the camel caravans of ancient times, and Dong Feng trucks carry coal and other goods to Xinjiang and beyond. The Hexi corridor is also famous for being the location of 1000 km's of the Great Wall, which we saw yesterday for the first time.

This mythical wall, lauded as the only manmade structure visible from space, is always something I have imagined as a vast brick edifice. But the Wall we encountered yesterday is no more than crumbling mud ramparts, barely distinguishable from the desert engulfing it. For most of the road between Wuwei and Zhangye we tukked along beside this historic remnant, evocative even in its advanced state of disrepair. I feel sure that Ting Tong was the first pink TT to follow its path.

Today was equally impressive driving, the road continuing west through vast treeless expanses. Rearing up in the distance on our left were the snowcapped peaks of the Qilian mountains, to our right the endless horizon of the desert. Never before have I been somewhere so remote, it felt like driving to the edges of the universe. Which to the Chinese it almost is.

Jiayuguan, where we are now, has always been synonymous in Chinese culture as a place of grim desolation, comparable to the outer edges of Siberia in the Russian psyche. Here lies the last fortress of the Great Wall, built in 1372 by the Ming dynasty. Looking out over its ramparts this afternoon it was easy to imagine why this place has such connotations. Sand and snow-capped mountains filled the horizon and althougth the temperature was a scorching 34 degrees today, in winter the thermometer plunges to 20 below zero.

Thanks to Jack's encouragement - Jo and I were both feeling tired and idle - we also took in the Great Wall museum. Did you know that the wall was begun in the 7th century BC, took over 2000 years to build, and during the time of the Ming dynasty needed a million men to guard its 25,000 km length? No, neither did I. Quite amazing.

Tomorrow we continue further west, to Anxi. We've got to leave very early as for 250 km of the 320 km route there are roadworks, surprise surprise. Then hopefully we can have a day off paragliding or dune surfing in the desert. Double wooopeeee.

That's all from me... love to all in the UK xx Ants

North west for the British penguins

2006-06-28T07:23:00.000-07:00

We are now heading westwards with our new guide Jack. He is total dude, dances with me in the middle of the road and doesn't mind us singing in public- in fact he joins in. Tonight he grossed us out by eating chicken's feet. They appear more meaty than I imagine and Ants has dared me to try one- not tonight though as I would like to keep my tasty supper in my stomach!

The scenery is so breathtaking here. What I would describe as raw nature- fewer signs of human activity and mountains surrounding us. It is very different to south china- the people have longer noses and some have green eyes. Also, the food is mainly noodle based and a refreshing change to rice.

I have refered to us as penguins for a reason and it is nothing to do with the Pingwu reference. In Lanzhou (a coupe of nights ago) we went for a wander and it wa raining. We both sported green ponchos to keep dry. The pavaments here are very slippery when wet and our foot atire i.e. flipflops don't have much grip. We both nearly went tit over arse a few times and realised that the only way to stay vertical was to shuffle along like a couple penguins in single file (we walk only on parts of the pavement that appear to provide us with more traction). The thought of either of us suffering a broken limb was enough to reduce our walk to the pace of a crawling baby, because if one of us breaks a bone, the other would have to drive the whole way back to england- I can tell you that this is our idea of a nightmare.

Today we drove along the Great Wall- not literally. I didn't know that it is about 5000km long and we were driving right next to it for most of the day. It was awesome. It is not how you imagine after perhaps having seen photos, but it is so tall and wide that old Genghis Khan must have found it a challenging obstacle. It was in a pretty tatty state for the most part, but still an imposing sight. Sometimes it continued undamaged for a mile and there were watch towers (I assume) at quite close intervals. It was a very special day.

I would love to write more, but I am about to get cut off and then will lose this blog and be unable to pot it. Hope to writ a mega blog soon and add more photos. Goodnight, Jo xoxoxo

The first pink tuk tuk on the Silk Road?

2006-06-28T06:53:00.000-07:00

Wuwei, Gansu Province, North West China

The Union Jack flies over Gansu

Today we finally turned West and headed for the plains of Central Asia along the fabled Silk Road. Its good to feel that we are, after 5 weeks of tukking north, finally heading for Europe and home. Although we're not even half way yet!

We said goodbye to Sam this morning who flew back home to Kunming to sleep for a week and celebrate his survival. So now we are in the capable hands of Jack, aged 26, from Urumqui. After a day with him we feel sure he is going to be lots of fun. Rather than cringing with embarassment when we sing or when Jo sprung into an impromptu Cossack dancing display in the middle of a quiet mountain road today, he joined in. Several cars stopped to view this strange scene, I whipped out the camera as per usual and then off we went. Now we are in Wuwei and tomorrow its 250 km's to Zhangye.

Very amusingly, Jo just got an email from MIND saying we have been shortlisted for Cosmopolitan's 'Fun Fearless Female' award. Hilarious. Great for boosting our fundraising though - we are currently almost at 20,000 pounds so still another 30,000 to go till we reach our target.

I was just thinking as we were driving today how wonderful it is to be travelling with Jo. Ever since an, erm, eventful 5 day caravanning trip in Norfolk aged 17 - had a car crash, went to hospital, nearly blew up the caravan, evicted from the caravan park - we have wanted to go travelling together. University, jobs and Jo's illness all delayed us by 10 years. I couldn't wish for a better person to be doing this trip with; Jo makes me laugh hysterically every day, rarely gets grotchety and always makes me wear suncream. What more could I wish for. So thank you ferret.

That's all for today. Gansu continues to fascinate with its curious meld of Chinese and Muslim culture, the mountains get more beautiful by the day and the fruit is incredible. Jack ate chicken's feet for dinner which he says are quite delicious. I'm not sure I agree.

xx Ants

Earthquakes, congratulations and get well soon

2006-06-27T02:27:00.001-07:00
I had wanted to include the blog that I had written on the laptop, but nothing is simple in China and USB keys are yet again not allowed in this internet cafe. So, I will have to wrack my brain for the last few days' events. This also means that no more photos for the time being and we have lots of wicked ones to add. We are both slightly frustrated by the communication issues here.

Anyway, very boring first para. I last wrote a quick blog in Pingu the penguin and we are currently in Lanzhou. From here we head west towards Kazakhstan and are just over half through our China mission. Overall on our trip we have covered about 4000 miles and have another 8000 miles to go.

The last week has been filled with lots of driving, but overall the road conditions are improving. The stretches of pure unadulterated tarmac continue for longer, although our average speed is still averaging 30km/hour. When we get the chance to drive over 30mph it feels like TT is taking off, which is very strange.

TT is behaving herself, but has developed a few little sounds e.g. whistles, squeeks and groans. I interpret these as a form of communication and I think she is trying to sound like all the other Chinese vehicles. She had a good service and several mechanics have checked her over and assured us she is fine.

Even though we have been driving long hours, the scenery more than makes up for it. By taking the scenic route we are seeing parts of China that most tourists don't get to experience and appreciate. Therefore, our experiences in China are filled with beautiful mountains, landscapes and local people rather than the more conventioanl tourist sites e.g. the Terracotta army. I think the locals find us as intriguing as we find them. Luckily for me it is not rude to stare in China, so I can be really nosey without being accused of impoliteness.

The highlights of the last few days include being stranded by an earthquake. We had been on the road for a good 10 hours and were within easy striking distance of our next town. Ants and I were both experiencing our silly hour and as Ants mentioned I was singing 'Nee Hao' to every living creature that we passed. I think the combination of this and two foreign girls in a bright pink tuktuk was too much to take in and many jaws hit the floor. We passed through a town and I continued howling at crowds of locals, only to exit the town and to be blocked by a landslide. Apparently an earthquake had caused a landslide which had blocked our path. There was no escape and the locals all gathered around and had a good look. I was slightly embarrassed that I would have to look people in the eye after singing to them. The only option was to sit it out and spend the night on the road. It was getting dark and we couldn't reach the town we had left from that morning. Besides, to get to our intended town (for that night) going back the way we came would have taken another day and was over 300km. It would have been like driving 3 and 3/4 sides of a square. Before bed we went and met the local youths and enjoyed beer and karaoke with them. I agreed to do karaoke and was hoping for a Chinese song to sing Nee Hao to. Unfortunately they found me a famous Chinese love song sung in English which I had never heard before. I stood there like a total lemon, bum bag strapped to my waist and tried to sing the chorus. Amusing and confusing for everyone there, horrible humiliating for me.

Bed for the night was the back of TT for me and the pavement for Mr Ant. I got restless legs which totally did my head in, before tossing and turning all night. Mr Ant was in a deep sleep but was awoken at 4am by one of the guys we had met at karaoke- he rapped on her head hard and then blabbered some chinese nonsense to her. I found this highly amusing in the morning and Ants also managed to see the funny side. They used some sticks of dynamite to dislodge some more rocks and a digger cleared away the tonnes of debris on the road. At midday we were on our way.

the last two days involved more driving through alternating rugged, barren mountains and green lush mountains. We passed villages where people still lived in basic mud huts and were lucky enough to drive into an amazing sunset.

I would like to say a big congratulations to my brother on getting a 2.1 in his media degree (he is the future Nick Broomfield) and get well soon to my darling ferret Shrimp, who had a growth removed from his fat tummy.

Until we reach the internet again.........xoxoxo (Jo)

Time to head West

2006-06-27T00:56:00.000-07:00
Lanzhou, north-west China

The landslide at Linjian

18 days into our Chinese tukathon and we've reached the half way point in this neverending country. As you can probably tell by the absence of blogs in the last week, we've had our foot flat to the floor, driving on average 10 hours a day. If we didn't have a log book I (Ants) would find it very hard to remember where we have been or what day or date it is. It all melds into one long bumpy road.

I think the last blog I wrote was in Leshan...so I'll start where I left off. After Leshan we headed for Chengdu, capital of Sichuan province and home to around 10 million people. We gave Emeishan, the Holy Mountain we were supposed to climb, a swerve and opted instead for a much needed day off in Chengdu.

Some day off. The CSITS insisted we went to extend our visas, saying it would take an hour. So we hung around, filled in forms, waited some more, only to be told after wasting about four hours that infact we would have to wait five days to get our passports back. We were not amused. It was our first day off in 12 days, we were desperate to explore the city and just chill out, and our plans had been scuppered, once again, by the CSITS. And guess what, Chengdu's piece de resistance, Tianfu Square, looked on by a towering statue of Chairman Mao, was a pile of rubble, apparently a new metro system is being built.

For the next few days we headed further north through Sichuan. The beautiful mountains of Yunnan and Guizhou were replaced by an endless stream of filthy towns, shrouded in a noxious cloak of pollution, some no more than mountains of bricks and half knocked down houses. I feel so sorry for the people who live in these towns, victims of China's frenetic quest for development, living in places that honestly looked like they have been caught in the Blitzkreig.

After the pollution and filth of central Sichuan came Gansu, where we currently are. Traditionally viewed as as a buffering zome between China and the barbarians beyond, Gansu is a huge province which goes from Lanzhou in the west to Dunhuang in the east. More importantly for us, as we tukked into it on Friday we passed the 5000 km mark, meaning we have covered 2000 km in China.

Driving into Gansu felt like entering a different country. The manicured hills of Yunnan and Guizhou were replaced by rugged, scree laden peaks. Hints of Muslim culture began to appear and the air became dry and stifling. And Gansu had a special surprise in store for us.

On Friday evening, after 11 hours on the road, the afternoon tuk fever and hysteria set in. With me at the wheel Jo launched into singing Nee-hao (hello), in perfect operatic tones, to all lucky passers by. Whether toiling in the fields, selling watermelons by the side of the road or just strolling to town, they all got treated to Jo's dulcit tones. Sam hid under his map in embarrassment (whilst trying unsuccessfully to contain his laughter) and I tried to drive straight whilst weak all over from laughing. It really was hilarious. The zenith came as we drove slowly through a small town. Tens of Dong Feng trucks were pulled up by the roadside and crowds of people milled around. We assumed it was dinner time and everyone had stopped for their rice and noodles. Jo continued her operatic offerings, safe in the knowledge that we would never see these people again. As we rounded a corner we saw the cause of the crowds, a vast landslide blocking a 50 m section of the road. We soon discovered there had been not one, but two, earthquakes, causing the landslide as well as destroying some houses. There was no escape. It was 8 pm, all the hotels were full, everyone had abandoned their houses for fear of an aftershock, and the only other road to Wudu - which lay tantalisingly close at 50 km's away - was a 300km diversion along dirt tracks. The only option was to wait till they cleared the path. It could be the next day, it could be in two days.

What followed was by far the funniest night we have had in China so far. Ting Tong and her inhabitants became an instant source of amusement for the locals and we spent the night at a karaoke bar, drinking far too much beer with the local lads. Sleeping on the pavement wasn't quite so much fun but hey, its all part of the adventure. Amazingly, by 12 noon the next day, one ancient digger and some dynamite had cleared the road and we were off again.

New karaoke friends..

Yesterday was another massive day of driving - 12 hours on the road, 365 km's covered. The long hours were alleviated by the incredible beauty of the country we were passing through. Magic. Mountains rose up on either side of the road, so perfectly green it was as if some ancient being had cast a giant velvet cloak over their shoulders. Funny yak like creatures, wild horses and goats grazed in flower strewn meadows. And to top it all off, we ended the day by driving into a perfect sunset. However long and tiring the days are, scenes like this can not help but lift the spirits. That's not to say I didn't feel slightly deranged by fatigue by the time we arrived in Lintao last night.

So now we are in Lanzhou, where after 5600 km's of tukking north we turn Ting Tong west and head along the Silk Road for Central Asia and home. Our visas are being extended today and we are changing guides, Sam is being replaced by Jack, who hails from Urumqui. Sam was so relieved to make it through his tukathon he leapt out of Ting Tong this morning and embraced Jack like a long lost brother. Sam's been a funny one - oscillating between perfect charm and vile sulks. We hope Jack is a little less moody.

As for our Chinese solution - well there isn't one. The CSITS can't /won't extend our permits and we can't drive any harder than we currently are. There is no way we will make it out of China by the 7th, so we'll just have to pray we don't get whipped and sent to prison at the border.

A few random observations about China: at least 20 % of the cars are VW Santana's, ankle socks are all the rage, perms a la 1980's are the height of fashion, and the biggest crowd TT has pulled so far is 46. That was at a 5 minute ice-cream stop yesterday. It is the most bizarre country and although its been a bit of an endurance test its been our favourite so far, every day something makes us really laugh.

That's it for now - sorry its a bit long and no idea when we'll next make it to the internet. x Ants

PS Got a load of pics on the USB key but this internet cafe won't allow them, ggrrrr

Pingwu the penguin

2006-06-23T06:34:00.000-07:00
23rd June, Pingwu

Just a quickie as they don't have a USB point on my computer and so cannot add my blog.

Yesterday we had a day off (whoohoooooo) in Chengdu, but were both too knackered to fully appreciate it. We were planning on going to a Chinese opera/martial arts/drama show in the evening, but Ants put herself to bed and I got lost for an hour and wandered the streets looking at my Rough Guide for clues as to my whereabouts.

Left Chengdu this morning and TT had her front brake pad changed- cost a measly 70pence and they can do the job far more quickly and skillfully than me. I watched closely and will perhaps do them in the future.

Tonight we are in Pingwu, which we insist on calling Pingu (like the penguin)- we are slightly immature. Anyway, it is very Chinese and I doubt they get many tourists here. The roads today were brill- pure tarmac and our average speed has increased to just over 40km/hour. It doesn't sound much but it made the driving so much more bearable.

We are off to the hotel now for an early night- Ants and I are sleeping in separate rooms tonight, because neither of us are sleeping well and apparently I snored like a real man last night- my mother would be proud.

Will do a proper blog with more interesting news v soon. Goodnight, good luck to my bro who gets his degree result today and get well soon to my ferret Shrimp, who had an operation today. xoxo

Giant Buddhas

2006-06-20T21:44:00.000-07:00
A real quickie - got five minutes in an internet cafe, where we are trying to sort out our revised itinerary, before hitting the road to not sure where. We're supposed to be going to a Holy Mountain called Emeishan today but we are both in need of a sleepathon, not mountain climbing, so are going to see where we get to. Jo said the other day that the tiredness is cumulative, and she's right, every day you feel just a little bit less like getting up and a little bit more like sleeping for a week or two. Caffeine and cigarette intake is on the increase in a big way.

We are in Leshan now - home of the biggest stone Buddha in the world. He's pretty impressive and the mind boggles as to how they made him back in 820.

Jo bought an apron off some Yi people in Shilin the other day and is insisting on wearing it most of the time. Sam's embarrassment is complete.

Right, got to hit the road. Sorry so short and dull xx US

China rocks

2006-06-19T07:36:00.000-07:00
Hello all, right now we are in a hotel and on the internet- a bloody revelation. China is brilliant and frustrating in equal measures.

Things I like about China:
- the people
- the food
- the scenery

Things I dislike about China
- Dong Feng trucks
- the driving
- the road conditions
- the public lavatories

So overall China gets a big thumbs up and we seem to be settling into a routine of getting up and driving for long hours without too many grumbles. It would be nice to have a day off at some point in the next three weeks, but if we don't it won't destroy us. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and if you don't laugh you cry-oh how I love cliches.

Yesterday we visited Zijin caves, which were absoltely breathtaking. They must be one of the most impressive caves in the world. The length of the caves is 12.1km, although I think we covered about half that distance. There were no English guides and so we joined a group of Chinese. We didn't have a clue what the guide was saying, but she sounded like she knew what she was talking about. I have never seen such large stalctites and stalagmites in my life, some must have been about 60ft tall/long. I also learnt a new thing about limetsone rock formations created by dripping water, that when a stalactite and stalagmite join together it is called a stalacto-stalagmite. We have also created a new rock formation called a phlobomite- I assume that you can work out how this special rock formation is formed. The rocks were amazing shapes, with many looking like large jellyfish e.g. Portuguese Man of War. We passed through different levels of the cave and eventually came upon the huge main cavern, which was at least the size of a football pitch. I worried about a stalactite falling from the roof and causing an ignominious death for us both. I informed Ants that I thought it would be a very painless death and that it would make a good article in a newspaper. Unfortunately, we had driven in the morning and had a long drive ahead of us and therefore were too tired to enjoy the caves as we felt we should have done. In hindsight I am appreciating them alot more. I put on Ants' I-pod and was listening to some music, which inspired me to start cave dancing in a rather peculiar manner. What I had failed to realise was that a security guard was walking right behind me as I shook my little booty.

I thought I smoked too much, but the Chinese really put me to shame. I am not sure how the roads ever get built as there always seems to be someone having a cigarette break. They also smoke while riding motorbikes, which I am sure is quite dangerous. It wouldn't be hard for the ash to go in their eye, lose concentration and end up under the wheels of one of the Dong Feng army. You seem to able to smoke everywhere in China apart from the lifts and there are notices in all hotel rooms advising against smoking in bed, for obvious reasons. That just reminded me, in our hotel room today it is possible to buy a packet of blue pills, which I am sure must be the Chinese equivalent of Viagra. I suppose the population didn't reach over a billion for no reason.

Today we were on the road for 9 hours, which included an hour for lunch. We must be getting used to the long hours, because it was OK. Apart from Ants' incident with the rather cross Dong Feng driver there were no problems. Two strange things we saw today included a dead foal strapped to the back of a motorbike and a dead dog being dragged along the road by a small child- pet or lunch?

Tomorrow we are getting TT serviced. I will watch carefully so that I learn how to do the oil filter and air filter myself. I will change the front brake pad, but get a motorcycle mechanic to check my handywork. Changing the oil is something we will let a mecahnic deal with, because they can dispose of the old oil safely and we cannot. Also, we think her accelerator is starting to stiffen again and will get the mechanic to check that also.

That's all folks, time for bed as another long day beckons and the tired tukkers need their beauty sleep. xx

Grubby tukkers

2006-06-19T05:08:00.000-07:00
Louzhou, Sichuan Province, China

Another day, another 300 km's covered. And as you can see from the photo I have hopefully posted above we are totally filthy. Eight hours spent tailing Dong Feng's belching black smoke tends to make one a little grubby.

War nearly broke out between the mothertruckers and the mothertukkers this afternoon. We've almost become accustomed to the driving here; the penchant for overtaking round the blindest corners, the neither a look to the left nor the right before pulling out, the constant near misses. But one Dong Fenger today really took the biscuit. As he roared past us, nearly sending Ting Tong and contents off a rocky precipice, I made the error of giving him the finger. The sight of an angry white arm appearing out of a mobile pink wendy house obviously riled him for as soon as he passed us he, whilst driving, opened the door of his truck, leant out and shook his fists in fury. Unluckily for us, a toll gate appeared 2 km later and as we pulled up the still seething trucker leapt out of his lorry and marched over to Ting Tong, gesticulating wildly and shouting what I can only assume wasn't 'Welcome to China, have a nice day'. I seriously thought he might punch me, and he probably would have if a burly security guard hadn't restrained him. He did however manage to unzip his trousers and reveal a pair of red Y front and all therein before Jo finally paid the toll and we zoomed off. All the time Jo had been oblivious to my plight, dealing with paying the toll, and couldn't believe it when I filled her in. Sam said maybe I shouldn't give anyone the finger and I think I agree. I spent the next 70 km thinking about that film Duel, waiting for the offended trucker to appear on our tail and force us off the edge of the mountain. Quite scary. I guess its all down to cultural relativism - driving that is totally acceptable here would lose you your license in the UK in 2 minutes. So he probably thought my finger was unjustified, while I saw our lives flashing before my eyes.

We're in Luzhou tonight, big, polluted and very hot. Sam has left us to our own devices so we're off to explore and hopefully not get lost or fed dog by accident.

xx Ants

WELCOME TO CHINA – COUNTRY UNDER CONSTRUCTION

2006-06-19T04:43:00.000-07:00
17th June Huanguoshu Waterfall

I am sorry that we are not blogging as often as we would like. The reason is that we cannot access our blogging site properly in China and therefore have to write them on the laptop and send them back to my brother to publish for us.

Right now we in a hotel in Huanguoshu, where there is a very large waterfall that is supposed to be one of the key highlights of this province, Guizhou. We arrived too late to enter during daylight and were lucky enough for them to be doing a night lightshow (apparently because of the world cup). So we had some supper and descended 559 (Ants counted them as we ascended) steps to see the waterfall illuminated by green floodlights. I have never seen a waterfall by night and it was quite impressive- I actually think we enjoyed the experience more than if we had seen it during daylight.

Back to the last 2 days of driving. The roads seem to have improved since we left Yunnan, although rather than being bad all of the time, they are now bad just some of the time. Today’s drive had mostly good tarmac, but we were slowed down by the steep and windy mountainous roads. TT has a front disc brake and back drum brakes. The disk brake is a motorcycle brake and is used for about 80% of our braking power. This is not ideal when we are descending steep windy roads and instead of speeding up between corners, we have to keep her in third gear and use the engine as our main brake. This is not a criticism of her construction, because it is the only way that she could be built- she is not big enough to have a front brake like a car.

Yesterday was possibly our most challenging day, although I didn’t find it as mentally tough as the driving last week. Our accelerator pedal had felt really stiff for awhile and we think it had begun to get more stiff. I spoke to my dad and he warned that the cable may snap. Lo and behold, I am driving down the road and the cable snaps. We were right out in the sticks, with the nearest form of civilization 20 minutes away. I phoned Anuwat (our tuk tuk maker and guru from Expertise) and told him the problem. He told me that it was really easy to fix and that we needed to find a spare cable. Thank goodness Anuwat had sent us on our way with two full boxes of spares which live on TT’s roof-rack. We located the cable and Anuwat explained that we needed to unscrew the front seat and get access to the engine. He then explained that we needed to find the carburetor. I responded that I didn’t know what the ****ing carburetor looked like, to which he burst out laughing. We toyed with the idea of hitching a lift to the next town and getting a mechanic to come and help us. However, the fact that Anuwat had said it was easy to fix made me want to try it without help. The next two plus hours were spent on our hands and knees or back fixing the problem. This involved removing the old cable and putting in a new one. If we had to do the same job again it would probably take just 20 minutes, but we were trying to cut a new cable complete with plastic sheath down to size. A truck mechanic came over and told us it would be easier to just insert a new cable rather than try and cut a new plastic sheath down to size as well. You may wonder why we found it so hard to cut a plastic sheath, but the problem was that the plastic sheath had a metal coil wrapped around its inside and this was tricky to cut without crushing it and therefore affecting the movement of the cable inside. We gave up on our original idea and instead just inserted a new cable into the old plastic sheath. We then had to make sure the tension was correct and cut it to size, so that it did not dangle on the floor. Eventually we succeeded, a combined effort from Ants, myself and Sam (our brilliant guide). It was with great trepidation that I started the engine and drove off, unaware whether the tension would be OK. To our great relief TT was driving like a dream. Once in the next town we asked a mechanic to check our handywork and he said it was fine. I cannot tell you satisfying doing our own mechanical repairs was, even though it left us with many hours still to drive.

The rest of the day was OK, apart from a rather hairy patch of road that was under construction. I have decided to get a T-shirt made which reads “China, Under Construction”. The driving here is the worst I have experienced anywhere in the world. The Chinese make the Indians look like Formula 1 drivers. There is no regard for other road users at all and wing mirrors are not used. People here may as well be wearing blinkers (like horses) for all the attention they pay to other road users. Even if we are on a good stretch of tarmac and could drive at 60mph, it is very dangerous to do so for a number of reasons e.g. a buffalo cart doing a U-turn, a huge Dong Feng truck overtaking and playing chicken with TT.

Our day ended with a tropical downpour. The rain was like nothing we get in England. It is like having buckets of water thrown at you from all angles. I hate getting wet; when I was a child I would cry if my feet got wet. When the rain started I went out of TT with Sam and we put down the back rain covers, with me holding a limp and useless umbrella over my head. We hoped the rain would pass, but it got stronger and stronger, until everything in the back was soaked, having come in from the front. I had to get out and put down all of the covers. I screamed at the top of my lungs and got soaked to the bone. Ants was driving, it was dark, pissing with rain and really windy. We eventually made it to the hotel at 9pm. It was a town that I doubt sees any westerners and we park TT outside and emerge sopping wet and stagger into the hotel. I think they could hardly believe their eyes!

Over to Ants…

Well I won’t repeat Jo but this country really should welcome all visitors with a sign saying ‘Wecome to China – country under construction.’ Everywhere you go a plague of blue Dong Feng lorries blights the countryside, the beginnings of new expressways march across the mountains and piles of rubble litter the roadside. You can not drive more than 10 km without being met by queues of honking traffic waiting to pass a motley crew of roadworkers, smoking cigarettes and ostensibly improving the roads. It gives true meaning to the phrase ‘developing country’.

The last few days have, as Jo has aptly illustrated, been incredibly tough. We covered 270 km in 11 hours yesterday, and 240 km’s in 9 today. Yesterday was hellish; not only did we have to deal with fixing the accelerator cable (when Jo yelled down the phone to Anuwat ‘ I don’t know what the f*** a carburetor looks like’ I thought we were in deep trouble), but we got totally drenched by the most violent tropical rainstorm I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. So suddenly was it upon us that by the time Jo had bravely leapt out to put down the raincovers us and all our stuff was drenched. All I cared about was the DV camera, which we wrapped in my tropical poncho and luckily saved from a watery grave. You should have seen the faces of the people at our hotel last night as a pink tuk tuk pulled up and three sodden individuals crawled out. Jo’s T shirt ‘What the fook fook is a tuk tuk’ summed up the situation perfectly. However, the comically bad karaoke - a feature in every hotel here – soon had us laughing hysterically and forgetting the hardships of 11 hours on the road.

So now we find ourselves in Guizhou province. A traditional saying states that here there are, ‘No three days without rain, no three hectares without a mountain and no three coins in any pocket’. They also have a predilection of dog meat, which has me looking at every dog wondering if it is dinner or a pet. We’ve already experienced some of the regions famous karst landscape, and the roads today have taken us through some incredible mountains, rice terraces and lakes dyed electric green by the limestone. As for the roads, they are definitely better than Yunnan, but still hard work. The potholes are smaller but the S bends just as challenging. Having said that though, we did encounter a stretch of road this morning that had me wondering how the hell we would make it across. At one point I had to hang off the side of Ting Tong to balance her as Jo navigated one particularly deep rain-filled pothole. Slightly hair-raising.

The roads may be better but the driving is still totally bonkers. Our ‘best’ stretch of road yesterday was perhaps the scariest we have encountered; buffalo carts doing U turns onto the carriageway, trucks coming straight at you down the wrong side of the road and upturned nails where temporary speed bumps once were. You can’t afford to lose concentration for a nanosecond. I still can’t work out why so many people here seem to favour driving the wrong way down dual carriageways, or going round roundabouts backwards.

One final thing. The loos here are the worst I have ever encountered – think Glastonbury day three and you are almost there. I nearly vomit every time I have to use one, much to Jo’s amusement. She certainly has a stronger stomach than I have.