Where
do I begin? Well …
In a
year when England lost to Iceland in the Euros, Brexit went from a joke about
breakfast to a reality and a tangerine became the Leader of the Free World,
three normal blokes from Bath embarked on what would become the adventure of lifetime. Where many
will remember 2016 as a year to forget, for us we celebrated our graduation
from university, gave personal best performances at happy hour and stepped
18,175 miles into the unknown with little but a bathtub and a 20 year-old car. Amongst
all the madness, all the doom and gloom that 2016 brought, the faint glimmer of
a golden Micra will forever serve as a constant reminder of more enjoyable,
care-free times.
When the journey began way back in mid-July we could never have dreamt of the impression some of these rarely visited places would have on us. Sometimes it’s best just to let the adventure take you, let it sweep you off your feet and go with the flow. This was certainly the case for us given the lack of in-depth planning that went into this trip. Apart from visas, a rough route outline and the wrong Nissan Micra Haynes Manual, we were totally on our own but as we soon found out, that is exactly how you rally. To all our sponsors, to Twickenham Studios, Integrator Solutions, Sartech, Data Access, Walkers, Xconnect Trading, Bat and Ball Sports, Bath Signs, Contrast Productions and Isle of Wight College, we are extremely grateful for your support, we’d have never even left the driveway without your help. We must also extend our thanks to Colin, our Stuart Place neighbour, without whom our battery would still be flat and we’d have fallen at the very first hurdle. Colin, wherever you are, cheers then!
And so with our pulses racing, we journeyed southwest to the historic Goodwood Racing Circuit, donned the flamboyant suits and joined 315 other farcically ridiculous vehicles to begin the greatest motoring adventure on the planet. At the sound of the la cucaracha horn we were off zipping across the channel, zooming across Europe and refusing to look back. Watching the sunrise from Constanta beach in Romania was just one of Europe’s special sights that would begin to mould our unforgettable journey. The winding roads of the Transfagarasan Highway, the balloon filled skies of Cappadocia and the magnificent views over the Bosphorus in Istanbul rounded off the continent in style. But now we were motoring further into the unknown and it was the turn of Asia to showcase its cultural delights.
Some of the most stunning natural and man-made wonders of the world lay in wait for us as we continued our quest east. The holy Armenian Khor Virap Monastery in the foreground of Mount Ararat stood as a stark contrast to the ferocious Door to Hell methane crater near Darweze, Turkmenistan. Uzbekistan offered us an eerie reminder of a once thriving fishing port at the Aral Sea as well as the utterly mesmerizing sight of the Perseid meteor shower over the enchanting ruins of the Ayaz Kala II ancient fortress. Breath-taking, spellbinding; it was indescribably beautiful.
More remarkable landscapes came into view as we continued on through Tajikistan. The interlocking spurs of the Wakhan Valley, the meandering Panj River marking the boundary with Afghanistan and of course the almost other-worldly setting of the Pamir Highway. Standing at 16,130 ft atop the peak of the second highest international highway in the world was unmistakably one of the stand-alone highlights of the entire rally.
As for the people we met on the rally, their generosity and warmth knew no bounds. Iranians in their Saipa Sabas offered us bread, a friendly face and a glimpse into one of the oldest and richest cultures in the Middle East. Mohammed, the mechanics of Tehran, the 45°C heat, the 25p a litre petrol and the magnificent scenery made Iran one magical experience. Couple these with the immaculate Golestan Palace or the energetic scenes at the Kaboud-val waterfall and you have one uniquely vibrant country that everyone’s curiosity should urge them to visit.
Driving thousands of miles, attempting to converse in 23 different languages and bartering in 18 local currencies certainly did not come without its challenges and incidents. From Marigold’s first injury in Georgia to driving the sniper road in Armenia to crashing into the back of Two and a Half Men in Uzbekistan, every little knockdown added that extra layer of grit and determination to get across the finish line in one piece. On many occasions the law wasn’t our friend either. Filthy bribery to the Kyrgyzstani police, illegal currency exchange from a market stall nut seller and bargaining our way to black market benzene in Uzbekistan saw three law abiding citizens suddenly become notorious felons.
Into Mongolia the cavalry rode to be greeted by vast steppe land, rugged snow tipped mountains and scatterings of yurts housing the descendants of Chinggis Khan’s 12th century Mongol empire. The pinnacle of the rally certainly captured our imagination. Soaring eagles, roaming camels and galloping wild horses lined the washboard roads all the way east towards Ulaanbaatar, the capital. We drag raced, we sand-boarded, we even wrestled a local Mongolian on his own steppe turf. Mongolia taught us that the real voyage of discovery is not in seeking new sights, but in looking with new eyes.
When we rolled across the finish line in Ulan-Ude, euphoric scenes suddenly erupted into life as the magnitude of our journey began to set in. Our humble 1997 Nissan Micra adorned with the signatures, dirt and scars of the previous 54 days on the road had carried us halfway around the world. But there was no time for rest, for our race had only reached its midpoint.
Like a game of two halves, the journey home was a different challenge. The stints of send across Russia, the dance of the Scandinavian capitals and the jaw-dropping chaos of Amsterdam completed an encyclopaedia of incredible stories, memories and laughs. When the White Cliffs came into view the journey had sadly come to an end, but what a journey it had been. We loved every minute.
To commemorate our rally’s legacy, there are a few awards to give out. The first Bath-ta of the evening is awarded to Uzbekistan’s brick throwing team for Team Rub-a-Dub-Dub’s top tip to achieve Olympic gold at Tokyo 2020. Able to pass bricks from street level to the top of a three-story building, these guys have the strength and technique that will likely edge the Scottish caber throwing team into silver. The second award of the night recognises outstanding striking achievement. Despite the final strike chart ending on Caleb: 8, Alf: 12 and Rich: 17, Alf’s “el triple” performance in an Ulan-Ude hostel forecourt blasted all other nominees out of the water. Decorating everywhere in sight with his dinner, losing his wallet and acting as an accessory to the callous defacing of our innocent bath-tub earned him the most strikes in a 24 hour period and the runaway winner of this award.
On to our much-revered award now, which is the stupidest item packed. Thanks to a 5kg bag of white protein powder wrapped in a bin liner and stuffed under the driver’s seat, we were nearly front-page news on the Daily Mail for drug smuggling. “Three white, privileged and unemployed young men turn to the illegal drug trade in shocking attempt to contaminate Iran’s halal whey protein supply. Is this what a £9,000 a year university education gets you in today’s post Brexit Britain?” is what the headline would’ve read. So Caleb; due to the infrequency of use and sniffer dog delays at the borders, you are the recipient of this much-coveted award.
And the final award of the evening is given to the biggest liability at the wheel. Not only did he gain 17 strikes, he crashed, was crashed into, drove headfirst into an open sewer and fell asleep whilst driving. When asked why he was taking risky off-road shortcuts, braking with his left foot and hanging out the window whilst driving, he simply replied, “because I’m bored”. For these reasons, Rich was demoted to writing the blog on the back seat, safely out of reach of Marigold’s controls and any kind of navigation responsibilities.
On the topic of this blog I would like to thank all my loyal readers who have followed our journey and I hope the story has intrigued, inspired and entertained you along the way. Through all the chaff, and sometimes sensationalistic exaggeration of the truth, I like to think that at its core I have represented what the rally was all about - the sense of adventure, challenge and fun in striding out into the wilderness completely unaided.
To all those who donated to our two great charities, Dementia UK and CoolEarth, we would like to extend our thanks for your support throughout. We feel honoured to have had the opportunity to raise money for such fantastic charities doing something we love. So far we have raised over £4,500, a total we are blown away by! We hope this figure will continue to rise in the future.
As for now, after all the dust has settled and normal life has resumed it’s a time to reflect on the joy a small golden car gave us for two and half months in summer 2016. Marigold left for Mongolia an ass, but she returned home a horse. As she sits dormant in storage, the signatures etched into her bodywork, the dust of the Mongolian plains encrusted on her once smooth surface and an overflowing strike chart scrawled across her dashboard, she reminds us of the more modest, nomadic existence we had as travellers. Life became beautifully simple on the road. We slept, we ate pasta and sauce, and we drove hundreds of miles. No less luxurious, but no more perfect. We weren’t shackled by the bounds of everyday life, the stresses of jobs or the worries of social status.
It was just us, a car and the simple question, “where to?” … “on”.
Forget the daily grind, this was the daily find. Every day brought new avenues of exploration, new leaps into the unknown. It became the ideal recipe for discovering new ways of life, new environments and new parts of a car we didn’t know existed.
Would I do it all over again? Abso-bloody-lutely
18,175 miles, 25 countries, 38,753 words in the blog, a Car Wars saga, 37 strikes and ….
When the journey began way back in mid-July we could never have dreamt of the impression some of these rarely visited places would have on us. Sometimes it’s best just to let the adventure take you, let it sweep you off your feet and go with the flow. This was certainly the case for us given the lack of in-depth planning that went into this trip. Apart from visas, a rough route outline and the wrong Nissan Micra Haynes Manual, we were totally on our own but as we soon found out, that is exactly how you rally. To all our sponsors, to Twickenham Studios, Integrator Solutions, Sartech, Data Access, Walkers, Xconnect Trading, Bat and Ball Sports, Bath Signs, Contrast Productions and Isle of Wight College, we are extremely grateful for your support, we’d have never even left the driveway without your help. We must also extend our thanks to Colin, our Stuart Place neighbour, without whom our battery would still be flat and we’d have fallen at the very first hurdle. Colin, wherever you are, cheers then!
And so with our pulses racing, we journeyed southwest to the historic Goodwood Racing Circuit, donned the flamboyant suits and joined 315 other farcically ridiculous vehicles to begin the greatest motoring adventure on the planet. At the sound of the la cucaracha horn we were off zipping across the channel, zooming across Europe and refusing to look back. Watching the sunrise from Constanta beach in Romania was just one of Europe’s special sights that would begin to mould our unforgettable journey. The winding roads of the Transfagarasan Highway, the balloon filled skies of Cappadocia and the magnificent views over the Bosphorus in Istanbul rounded off the continent in style. But now we were motoring further into the unknown and it was the turn of Asia to showcase its cultural delights.
Some of the most stunning natural and man-made wonders of the world lay in wait for us as we continued our quest east. The holy Armenian Khor Virap Monastery in the foreground of Mount Ararat stood as a stark contrast to the ferocious Door to Hell methane crater near Darweze, Turkmenistan. Uzbekistan offered us an eerie reminder of a once thriving fishing port at the Aral Sea as well as the utterly mesmerizing sight of the Perseid meteor shower over the enchanting ruins of the Ayaz Kala II ancient fortress. Breath-taking, spellbinding; it was indescribably beautiful.
More remarkable landscapes came into view as we continued on through Tajikistan. The interlocking spurs of the Wakhan Valley, the meandering Panj River marking the boundary with Afghanistan and of course the almost other-worldly setting of the Pamir Highway. Standing at 16,130 ft atop the peak of the second highest international highway in the world was unmistakably one of the stand-alone highlights of the entire rally.
As for the people we met on the rally, their generosity and warmth knew no bounds. Iranians in their Saipa Sabas offered us bread, a friendly face and a glimpse into one of the oldest and richest cultures in the Middle East. Mohammed, the mechanics of Tehran, the 45°C heat, the 25p a litre petrol and the magnificent scenery made Iran one magical experience. Couple these with the immaculate Golestan Palace or the energetic scenes at the Kaboud-val waterfall and you have one uniquely vibrant country that everyone’s curiosity should urge them to visit.
Driving thousands of miles, attempting to converse in 23 different languages and bartering in 18 local currencies certainly did not come without its challenges and incidents. From Marigold’s first injury in Georgia to driving the sniper road in Armenia to crashing into the back of Two and a Half Men in Uzbekistan, every little knockdown added that extra layer of grit and determination to get across the finish line in one piece. On many occasions the law wasn’t our friend either. Filthy bribery to the Kyrgyzstani police, illegal currency exchange from a market stall nut seller and bargaining our way to black market benzene in Uzbekistan saw three law abiding citizens suddenly become notorious felons.
Into Mongolia the cavalry rode to be greeted by vast steppe land, rugged snow tipped mountains and scatterings of yurts housing the descendants of Chinggis Khan’s 12th century Mongol empire. The pinnacle of the rally certainly captured our imagination. Soaring eagles, roaming camels and galloping wild horses lined the washboard roads all the way east towards Ulaanbaatar, the capital. We drag raced, we sand-boarded, we even wrestled a local Mongolian on his own steppe turf. Mongolia taught us that the real voyage of discovery is not in seeking new sights, but in looking with new eyes.
When we rolled across the finish line in Ulan-Ude, euphoric scenes suddenly erupted into life as the magnitude of our journey began to set in. Our humble 1997 Nissan Micra adorned with the signatures, dirt and scars of the previous 54 days on the road had carried us halfway around the world. But there was no time for rest, for our race had only reached its midpoint.
Like a game of two halves, the journey home was a different challenge. The stints of send across Russia, the dance of the Scandinavian capitals and the jaw-dropping chaos of Amsterdam completed an encyclopaedia of incredible stories, memories and laughs. When the White Cliffs came into view the journey had sadly come to an end, but what a journey it had been. We loved every minute.
To commemorate our rally’s legacy, there are a few awards to give out. The first Bath-ta of the evening is awarded to Uzbekistan’s brick throwing team for Team Rub-a-Dub-Dub’s top tip to achieve Olympic gold at Tokyo 2020. Able to pass bricks from street level to the top of a three-story building, these guys have the strength and technique that will likely edge the Scottish caber throwing team into silver. The second award of the night recognises outstanding striking achievement. Despite the final strike chart ending on Caleb: 8, Alf: 12 and Rich: 17, Alf’s “el triple” performance in an Ulan-Ude hostel forecourt blasted all other nominees out of the water. Decorating everywhere in sight with his dinner, losing his wallet and acting as an accessory to the callous defacing of our innocent bath-tub earned him the most strikes in a 24 hour period and the runaway winner of this award.
On to our much-revered award now, which is the stupidest item packed. Thanks to a 5kg bag of white protein powder wrapped in a bin liner and stuffed under the driver’s seat, we were nearly front-page news on the Daily Mail for drug smuggling. “Three white, privileged and unemployed young men turn to the illegal drug trade in shocking attempt to contaminate Iran’s halal whey protein supply. Is this what a £9,000 a year university education gets you in today’s post Brexit Britain?” is what the headline would’ve read. So Caleb; due to the infrequency of use and sniffer dog delays at the borders, you are the recipient of this much-coveted award.
And the final award of the evening is given to the biggest liability at the wheel. Not only did he gain 17 strikes, he crashed, was crashed into, drove headfirst into an open sewer and fell asleep whilst driving. When asked why he was taking risky off-road shortcuts, braking with his left foot and hanging out the window whilst driving, he simply replied, “because I’m bored”. For these reasons, Rich was demoted to writing the blog on the back seat, safely out of reach of Marigold’s controls and any kind of navigation responsibilities.
On the topic of this blog I would like to thank all my loyal readers who have followed our journey and I hope the story has intrigued, inspired and entertained you along the way. Through all the chaff, and sometimes sensationalistic exaggeration of the truth, I like to think that at its core I have represented what the rally was all about - the sense of adventure, challenge and fun in striding out into the wilderness completely unaided.
To all those who donated to our two great charities, Dementia UK and CoolEarth, we would like to extend our thanks for your support throughout. We feel honoured to have had the opportunity to raise money for such fantastic charities doing something we love. So far we have raised over £4,500, a total we are blown away by! We hope this figure will continue to rise in the future.
As for now, after all the dust has settled and normal life has resumed it’s a time to reflect on the joy a small golden car gave us for two and half months in summer 2016. Marigold left for Mongolia an ass, but she returned home a horse. As she sits dormant in storage, the signatures etched into her bodywork, the dust of the Mongolian plains encrusted on her once smooth surface and an overflowing strike chart scrawled across her dashboard, she reminds us of the more modest, nomadic existence we had as travellers. Life became beautifully simple on the road. We slept, we ate pasta and sauce, and we drove hundreds of miles. No less luxurious, but no more perfect. We weren’t shackled by the bounds of everyday life, the stresses of jobs or the worries of social status.
It was just us, a car and the simple question, “where to?” … “on”.
Forget the daily grind, this was the daily find. Every day brought new avenues of exploration, new leaps into the unknown. It became the ideal recipe for discovering new ways of life, new environments and new parts of a car we didn’t know existed.
Would I do it all over again? Abso-bloody-lutely
18,175 miles, 25 countries, 38,753 words in the blog, a Car Wars saga, 37 strikes and ….
10 punishment press-ups every other day
9 sponsors
8 time
zones
7 Harry
Potter audiobooks
6 -teen
thousand feet, the highest point reached
5 mountain ranges
4 convoy
cars
3 deserts
2 ducks
1 Marigold
and 1 bath-tub
The adventure of a
lifetime.
