Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Thanks Dad

I thought i'd be appropriate and i feel like i need to thank my Dad.

I was speaking to one of my mates about 2 months into the trip and he asked how things were going with me and my Dad...I said pretty well...he said ahhh your crazy i wouldn't last a week in a car with my Dad.
I lasted five and a half months with mine. That wouldn't have been possible if it weren't for my Dad's easy going nature.
This trip was hard but it could have been a hell of a lot harder.

Dad is the most laid back, understanding, tolerent and open minded bloke i know. This means its literally impossible to have an argument with him.
There were BILLIONS of situtions on the trip where i've been a bit pissed off and said something i shouldn't have, and Dad would be thinking your a bloody idiot. But every time this happened, Dad would always say the right thing and everthing would be sweet. Tiny things like this made it so easy to be around him for a bloody long time...sorry for being an idiot and thank you for letting it slide.

One of the weirdest things on the trip was that Dad now loves half the music i love. Parents are supposed to be telling you to 'turn that crap down'. But i showed him some modern bands that i was a fan off a long the way and to my surprise he says something a long the lines of 'whose this band...their quite good'. Old people aren't supposed to like young people's music.
A very opened minded man.


Dad put a lot of trust in me. He let me drive in crazy traffic in crazy countries with his almost brand new car. Thankfully it paid off...not one strach from my driving...wish i could say the same for you Dad...



It was a pleasure sharing the journey with you Dad.

Thanks mate

Sunday, November 28, 2010

ONE VERY BIG THANK YOU by David

On behalf of both Will and I, I want to say a sincere thanks to the following:

First and foremost, to Ros without whose blessing the journey would not have proceeded. Particularly however, I thank her for her tolerance of this indulgence, enormous support during our journey and for suffering almost two years of hearing me talk, plan and breathe the proposed trip, without complaint.
Hamish, who was eager to come with us at one stage, and who put up with the trip planning being in the background for so long.
Martin, who nearly came with us, but helped with the gift of a tool kit (subsequently stolen) and provided an introduction to an upholsterer for car seat enhancement and a unique car addition.
Linton at BSS for generously donating his time for the design and preparation for the signwriter, of our car logo and Melboune to London set of translations, as well as setting up our blog and web mail. Thanks Linton - you’ve been great.
Gary & Gerard for advice re web mail given to someone who didn‘t have a clue about what they were on about at that stage.
Julie, Liz, Gerard and also seasoned traveller Sean for hard earned advice re staying healthy while travelling - it worked! Thanks also, Gary & Julie, for our send off party.
Cathy for loaning us 4WD recovery equipment which, in the end, was left in Melbourne after due consideration of our likely needs.
Helen Mac, for going to great effort, while we were on the road, to collate and email us some very useful information on road, border and travelling conditions in Mongolia, Russia, Kazakhstan, etc..
Vin for helpful advice re the car and supply of periodic service consumables and some useful equipment to assist with potential car problems.
John & Sam at Morello Motors, Essendon, for some essential car spares (wiper blades, fuses, fan belts, light bulbs etc.), further car advice and arranging Roadworthy’s on the Prado and Landrover.
Alasdair & Paul, my partners at BSS for allowing me to take six months away from the company, for nurturing the business in my absence, and keeping it running well, completing a few carry over jobs of mine and for allowing me to purchase on BSS’s behalf “our” sat phone..
Gail L and Jeanette, also at BSS for their special assistance in smoothing BSS payment arrangements in my absence, and providing camera gear (hard to come by connectors, etc.), and instructions, respectively. The camera stuff worked wonderfully, Jeanette - thanks.
David & Mick at Guest’s 4WD, Heidelberg, for helpful advice on car preparation and for preparing the vehicle (steel wheels, new tyres, replacement suspension, dual battery etc.), and also further advice while we were on the road..
Gary C of Harris Freer Toyota, Berwick, for arranging for car valuation for Carnet purposes, which was not able to be obtained from various others I tried.
Ros’s brother Richard for finding us a second-hand cargo barrier in a Brighton car yard..
Peppina S at Australian Automobile Association, Canberra for answering my many questions regarding the Carnet carefully and clearly, and who, at short notice, re-issued the Carnet to pick up Singapore where we might have needed to ship the car to, rather than Malaysia, as planned.
Brent McCunn at Passport Travel, Malvern for bending over backwards to arrange dual entry visas for Russia, arranging Ukraine visas for the family, for getting LOIs for Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan and responding to my endless, sometimes urgent, emails while we were on the road. Thanks Brent for putting up so well with a sometimes anxious client, and for calming my mind, in the light of some simply awful possibilities!
Near neighbours, Russ & Tara T for their patience in witnessing what must have seemed an extraordinary number of passport applications for the family (there were 7!)
Perkins Shipping, Darwin, particularly De Mashman for forbearance in understanding the problems of first time shippers in arranging freighter transport for the car to Dili, Timor Leste.
Dave H, now back in London, for continuing to respond to my many email queries before and during our trip with enormously detailed and helpful answers re aspects of the very adventurous car journey he and his brother Chris made between London and Sydney in 2009 (see their web site Half Way Round). I look forward to meeting you and shouting you a pint or two, Dave, in London!
Jon Faine, who did a broadly similar trip to ours with son Jack in 2008, who also responded with great generosity to my many email queries before and during the journey, and who met me before our leaving to pass on further details of the conditions and difficulties we were likely to encounter. Thanks Jon for sparking my imagination and for starting this whole thing off! From the moment I heard you talking on ABC radio in 2008 about your then proposed overland journey, I knew that was what I wanted to do. I had never experienced such clarity of purpose before.
Viv & Jan H who drove across Russia and Mongolia recently (and who are presently planning a huge road journey from Patagonian to Alaska!) and who met Will & I, then total strangers, over dinner in Lygon Street to also pass on great advice and encouragement for our journey. The copies of their equipment etc. lists and contact details of a New Zealand translator of Russian, Tatyana, for translation of our background for use in Russian police road checks made my preparation work more thorough.
Tatyana (see above) who continued to assist us while were on the road with translation of our letters of support for Kazakhstan (in the end, the part translation of the documents, which were found to be in Kazakh, not the assumed Russian (looked Russian to me!), was done by Tatyana’s Russian friend‘s, brother’s employee working in Kazakhstan, which is where the documents started from!). Amazing!
Abby Z of NAVO in China for always being responsive to my many queries and concerns in the year of so leading up to our departure, and of course to our guide, Michelle, for her work in getting us through the borders and roads of China and her patience on the road - a hard job, spending every waking hour with total strangers, for over three weeks, much in the confines of a car. Thanks Michelle for making China one of the highlights.
Mariaelena of Mototouring, Milan, Italy for responding to my queries and for promptly providing Green Card insurance for Europe, immediately sending off the certificate just as we were about to leave (it arrived after we left and was express posted to Darwin by Ros).
Charlie, Mr Sudri and Mr James of PT Infinity shipping agents for their prompt responses to my queries and giving us such good service in Medan, Sumatra, in arranging car shipping from the port at Belawan, Indonesia to Port Klang, Malaysia. You made this most difficult connection for so many other overlanders, arranging vehicle shipping between Indonesia and the Malay Peninsula (and described by Jon Faine as ‘the missing link’), actually happen, albeit painfully slowly. Despite the delays, the staff of Infinity gave us personal service well beyond our expectations.
To our sometime passengers, Lauren (Will’s girlfriend, three weeks), Ros and Hamish (two special weeks from Kiev, Ukraine) for relieving the loneliness of our travelling, and providing such good company.
And finally to the many family, friends and colleagues who emailed us while we were on the road or who became ‘followers” of our blog - I ached at times for contact from home and every time I got texts or opened our web mail and found your emails it was just wonderful. Your contact, comments in the blog and news provided real pleasure for us who were such a long way from home, for so long. Thank you all.

COUNTING BY TWO… by David

From day one, Will and I counted…ks covered each day, fuel consumption, room costs, times stopped by police, ferry crossings made and the like. Why, I’m not sure, as counting was obviously not why we were travelling, but it seemed like not a bad idea at the time… In addition to counting, good and bad things happened, a diary was kept, receipts retained, and odd ball people were met. The following is a really random listing of my recollections, records, and notes measuring some of the main parameters of our journey, enumerated wherever possible, as well as a few of the more odd ball aspects. We hope you enjoy this collation of quirky, even bizarre, information…

Stuff stolen: sunglasses, sleeping bag, duvet, blankets, snow chains, tent, back up tyre pump, tool kit and various gifts (sorry, your gift was among them…)
Stuff lost or forgotten: good map of Bangkok (I’m not saying who lost it but it was not me, or Lauren…), and one of Mongolia (if not found under now chaotic piles of stuff in the back of the car.); pair of speakers for iPods (purchased on Phi Phi from a 7-11 type shop, left in our hotel, Paris).
Number of sets of visas obtained while on the road: 5 (for Timor Leste, Laos, Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan)
Distance covered from Melbourne to London: 34,430 km
Duration of journey, Melbourne to London: 168 days.
Number of different road map versions used to navigate the Gobi in Mongolia: 4
Longest distance covered in any one country: 5,600 km (China)
Longest distance covered in any one day: 837 km (driving to Coober Pedy, Australia)
Best music listened to, by far (no particular order): ‘Stones, ‘Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Foals, Grizzly Bear, Burial (just ’sick’ dubstep music), Leonard Cohen, Chemical Brothers, Angus & Julia Stone, The Cranberries, Tom Waits, Pink Floyd, The Who, Fiest, Dire Straights, Kid Sam, Eddie Vedder (Into the Wild).
What we should have taken with us, but didn’t: more iPod music, to help while away the long hours.
Wheel rotations: executed on the road: 5
Car servicing carried out: 3 (Medan, UB, Kiev)
Mechanical problems occurring with our car: minor vibration in the front end (Thailand - fixed), rubber bushes holding the front stabiliser bar damaged (Kiev - replaced), leaking front shock absorber (Kiev - not replaced).
Fuel consumption: averaged 10.1 l/100km.
Worst hotel suffered: dribble of water only available at wash basin, common shower inoperative (ie no shower), no toilet seat, no toilet cistern lid, cistern unable to be flushed, cistern loudly running continuously through the night, door would not lock (later sorted), beds partially collapsed…(Olgii, Mongolia- we shifted hotels next day).
Most unexpected gift received from a complete stranger: 72 bottles of drinking water, plus nuts and dried fruit (given to us by a man from Dubai, in the car park of our hotel, Shymkent, Kazakhstan).
Coldest morning while camping: minus 11 degrees C (Altai, Mongolia, near border with Russia)
Cost of road toll between Jakarta and Merak: A$3.50 for 80km (Java, Indonesia)
Most expensive toll day: A$49 (China) for 441km
Number of (wonderful, sustaining)) emails received: 453
Number of times attempted to be pick pocketed: 1 (Ulaan Baatar, Mongolia)
Countries where it snowed: (Kazakhstan; Mongolia, Germany, Switzerland, France)
Number of times stopped by police for document checks, blood alcohol test, or for various alleged driving offences (speeding etc.): Indonesia 2 times, Thailand 1, Russia 7, Kazakhstan 8, Uzbekistan 4, Ukraine 4 (ex-Soviet states, 23; rest of the world, 3).
Number of countries driven through: 19 (includes Kyrgyzstan - I know that’s cheating, but see below)
Longest stay in any one country: 37 days (Indonesia)
Shortest stay in any country: approx. 40 minutes (Kyrgyzstan - nervously transiting without visas, for about 25km, just inside the razor wire of the Kyrgyz/Kazakh border!)
Number of aeroplane flights required: 3 each (Will took more to meet Lauren)
Longest delay: 19 days, while shipping the car from Sumatra to Malaysia.
Number of car ferry crossings required: 6 (inter-island, Indonesia)
Longest car ferry crossing: approx. 16 hours, overnight (Kupang, West Timor to Larantuka, Flores)
Number of times car required to be shipped by freighter: 3 (includes back to Australia)
Number of times car transported by train: 1 (Channel Tunnel, France to UK)
Number of times car keys threatened to be confiscated by police: 1 (Russia)
Number of times threatened to be fined by police: 3
Number of times a bribe was requested by police: 1 (Kazakhstan, by three policemen, in a police car on the road to Almaty)
Number of times “special gifts” requested, or Australian coins, etc. sought by border guards and others: 5
Lowest cost of fuel: 43 cents/litre (Russia)
Highest cost of fuel: A$2.21/litre (UK)
Number of photographs taken: 3,379
Number of haircuts had: 3
Number of times we got sick: 0
Number of different hotels stayed in; 99
Lowest cost of a hotel room: A$7.50/night (Indonesia)
Highest cost of hotel room: A$450/night (Paris - 4 people, includes parking)
Total cost of fuel consumed: A3,427.
Worst roads: Indonesia and Mongolia (tie)
Detailed pre-departure trip preparation time: approx 1.5 years.
Number of people who so generously assisted us with road directions or guidance: numerous.

COME THE DAY (missing photos)


Two photos would not load with the above blog - one now loaded.

COME THE DAY by David


For a few seconds I get caught unawares in a right turn lane; as I quickly indicate, check mirrors and safely merge left into a straight ahead lane, it happens yet again. Will and I try really, really hard in our driving and I have done nothing wrong but now there is a policeman pointing an orange baton at me. As I pull over Ros, next to me laments ‘well, this will cap off the day, nicely…’ I step out and am ‘invited’ into a police car… ‘I’m from Australia and I’m sorry but I do not know what you’re talking about… I don’t know what ‘straff’ means. No, really I don’t even though you repeat the word a lot… That’s a big book of rules you have there but I cannot read a word of it…What do you want 425Hry for? I’ve done nothing wrong…Sorry I don‘t know what you keep saying - I can only speak English…” And so this pantomime, this charade, this farce goes on for some time, as I sit next to this increasingly frustrated Ukrainian policeman.

He finally decides I need to get straightened out by the most senior policeman at the checkpoint and takes me to a group of three other policemen and a fourth person in plain clothes, a hanger-on? He explains the problem, I presume. The senior policeman checks my passport, checks my visa, I confirm I’m Australian; I tell him, by sign language, that I have driven to this point from Australia. He tries to speak a few words in English but fails beyond ‘you speak English‘? He looks exasperated, uncertain, probably tossing around whether to throw the book at me, or let me go. Finally after a long awkward pause, he hands me back my passport. As I get back into our car Ros says lets get out of here before he changes his mind… Off I drive towards the Slovak border. Later, that evening, I check my diary and count the ticks against the ex-Soviet states - today’s police stop was number 23 for this group of now independent countries. Rest of the world: three!

It’s only the second driving day since picking up Ros and Hamish up at Kiev airport, our second last day in Ukraine. Unfortunately we had had our usual trouble by getting lost the previous evening while driving into the UNESCO listed gem of a city, L’viv, and Will had had to engage a taxi to lead us to our hotel. Even more unfortunately, we had followed this the next morning by again getting lost getting out. While these events were now nothing out of the ordinary for Will and I, the uncertainty and spontaneous, unexpected antics used to sort out our navigation problems does not go down well with Ros, who stresses, very fresh from the order, the routine, the ease of Australia, of driving around Melbourne…No wonder.

As we enter the Ukraine border confines, there is a huge colourful line of trucks on the Slovak side, waiting to enter Ukraine. Hamish is told by Ros and I, and multiple times by Will to annoy him, to put his camera away - now is certainly not the time to be seen flashing a camera. Without trouble we pass easily through both Ukraine and Slovakia border controls. At one point however a Slovak Customs officer, unable to speak English, asks a fellow motorist, obviously English speaking, and also going through the border like us, to ask us the usual questions about drugs, guns, knives etc. This he does, speaking directly to us in good English, and in an appropriately stern voice. He then walks back to his own car to resumes his own border processing! Another customs officer, surprisingly, asks us how much fuel we have on board and is highly amused at being told we have 200 litres (there is a limit, apparently, which we exceed….). As I quickly ponder how to get rid of some illegal fuel, it appears the rule is to be ignored. As he waves us on he half smiles and says ‘Welcome to Slovakia‘. We enter the EU! I feel a little like crying, but don’t. I know I feel happy and elated, so relieved…I do feel welcome.

In Slovakia, the police checkpoints have suddenly evaporated. Gone. Disappeared. I am surprisingly uplifted that the heavy police presence is finally done with, and the uncertainty of where each police stop may lead to is now largely behind us. The change is extraordinary after each driving day for over a month being overshadowed by an excessive police presence and, at times, threatening intrusion.

Next day we drive through the Slovakia/Austria border without being halted. Without stopping! I ask the others can we really be in Austria, almost without knowing it? Without showing our papers? Without questions? Without being searched? The answer is yes and now, it seems there are no borders, in effect, to come, as we drive through continental Europe. Amazing! The tension, the uncertainty, the questions and chaos are over.

After making steady progress through parts of Austria, Germany, Switzerland and France, sometimes through neat snow covered rolling hills, and staying for a few great, indulgent days in Paris on the Champs Elysees, (where parking the car costs over four times as much as a hotel was in Indonesia!) we have now reached London. This, after five and a half months of travelling since driving out of our garage in Melbourne, and almost 35,000km on the road. Extraordinary! While here Ros and I look forward to seeing the boys’ cousin, Sally-Ann, and catching up with friends from home. In addition I want to buy a pint or two for a young Australian, Dave now living in London, who, with his brother Chris, drove London to Sydney last year and very generously helped me with much valuable information before and during our journey. I have never met Dave.

While we are eagerly anticipating these special occasions, and other good times in the UK, for Will and I in particular returning home now becomes an increasingly important focus, which I know for Will, at least, cannot come soon enough. Its great to see him laughing and joking and farting around with Hamish, clearly pleased to be in the company of a young person again, even if its his own brother. At the end of our travels alone he was heartily sick of the trip, and probably also had had enough of me. For him, come the day…

At this point Will and Hamish’s departure is still some days away, but already I am starting to feel the parting from Will is close. How can I say how proud of him I am, how extraordinarily grateful I am that he was the one who was with me through so much, through the rough and wearisome, through the good and sometimes uplifting moments. Will, you‘ve been great: you’ve been fun to be with, strong, uncomplaining and so dependable, someone I now know, could not have been a better companion for me in this journey of our lives. Thanks for the memories, Will. Its been a journey which I am certain I will cherish as much for the experience of your company as for the memories of the adventure we‘ve shared for so long together.

For Ros and I, our return home is still a few weeks off as we propose to comfortably spend valuable time together and will travel a bit of the UK again, probably to the Lake District and Scotland, and of course arrange for shipping of our sturdy car back home. Like Will, however, the prospect of returning to a normal life, of work and friends and family and home comforts and ease looms increasingly larger in my mind, as time goes by. Come the day…

[Photos: line of trucks waiting to enter Slovalia; Centre Pompidou, Paris; Father Christmas and Will, Folkstone, UK, after driving off the tunnel train]

[This is our last blog covering daily travels however two further blogs will be posted shortly, one to say an appropriate thank you and the second, to, in a sense, measure an, extraordinary journey - one which I hope you, the reader, have got some vicarious pleasure from reading about, and in a sense, of being a part of. Thank you all. Its been a great ride.]

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

FAMILY REUNION by David




The road to Kharkiv, Ukraine, is punctuated by police checkpoints in most towns and at some locations between, and we wonder what is different here from Russia and the ‘Stans in this regard. Probably not much... The heavy presence of the police, with their now ubiquitous baton in hand, seems just as unwanted here as in the other ex-Soviet states we‘ve passed through. As a consequence we were again stopped on the road, this time three times in a couple of days…

Early on, on this road, we both were feeling like a cuppa and something to eat so to satisfy these needs, and in a sense to celebrate in a very Australian (for us, at least) way, our entry into Eastern Europe proper (western Russia just doesn’t seen right, somehow, to be included in Eastern Europe) we pulled over, found somewhere to hide ourselves behind now common deciduous hedgerows, and soon got a fire going. What is it that is so satisfying about a fire? Is it the warmth, the timelessness of the primeval flame, or is it something much more personal to Will and I - does it remind us of home, of sitting with good friends around a camp fire, and of course of the bush and one of the great freedoms we enjoy in country Australia, of being able to camp and get a fire going, pretty well anywhere one wants, with relatively few exceptions? Probably all of these…

We are, of course heading for Kiev, and a very special day when Ros and Hamish are to join us for the remainder of our journey to London. After a night in Kharkiv, we arrive in Kiev and soon get lost. Where on earth are we in this large city of about five to six million people? I ask Will to pull over which he does behind a parked car, with someone in the driver’s seat. I approach the driver to ask our location. As keeps on happening, unexpectedly, now so often, this total stranger is helpful beyond expectations. He quickly dismisses our LP map (useless I think he says…), scratches around in the rear of his car and produces an excellent road map of the city. I tell him we’re looking for Hotel St Petersburg which he knows and gives probably a fair appraisal of, offers us his own apartment at a similar rate (which I do not take up) and then gives us the map, gratis!

We drive on into a late afternoon traffic jam. Slowly we grind our way to the selected hotel, which is near the very centre of this large and western style city, the first such type of city for months. As we get closer, cars line the streets, are parked at odd angles on the footpath, and plastic traffic cones or stern looking men guard anywhere a stray car could possibly sneak into, and it seems impossible for us both to leave the car while we check out the prospective hotel. I get out and Will drives on and I mentally wish him luck. Hotel St Petersburg is a large, ex-Soviet era hotel, with friendly staff. I ask for the rate (a budget blowing 360 Hry (about AUD45!)), and about parking, and, for the first time I can remember, don’t even bother to see the room first, before taking it. I was feeling hassled by the inability to stop the car and besides, we have seen so many bad hotels on this journey that, hey, what’s another one matter, if it turns out that way. Will turns up, unexpectedly - it seems the city has a band of parking officers, who not only take your money but, helpfully, also find you a spot - which is what happened. Wonderful!

Our room is huge!, has a balcony and for the first time since Bangkok, has BBC World on the TV; there is even wi fi in the room! We feel like we’ve struck gold! Mind you, it is basic (what’s new!), has shared facilities, is on a very busy street, which is noisy at times, and as everywhere now, is over heated. I book another room for when Ros and Hamish arrive.

We need to get our car serviced - with over, too far over, 10,000km now clocked up since UB and the memorable day of the last service. I ask reception where I can get the car’s oil changed, and am asked if I want to change my car park. Well, no… After a phone call by reception, lots of discussion I cannot understand, of course, Toyota Kiev’s phone number is produced.

The service is done while we wait. Disappointingly they find rubber bushes supporting the front stabiliser bar are damaged and need replacing, and of more concern, a front shock absorber is leaking oil and which they cannot replace. I guess these are the result of tens of thousands of km of bad roads…

While waiting for Ros and Hamish, we roam the local city area - it is a Saturday and the probably normally grid locked main drag, Kreshchatyk St, is now a pedestrian mall. We wander in welcome but fleeting sunshine, absorbing the local scene. Well dressed young people looking much the same as in any western city, stroll. The look however has just a hint of the fast approaching Winter - fur collars, padded jackets, hoods, and coats, etc. The buildings we pass are impressive, and in some cases old and graceful. A rock group has just finished playing at one end of the mall and a final burst of recorded music is played far too loudly to announces the pause. We walk up to St Sophia’s Cathedral, pay our entry to a squeaky voiced woman who seems to take forever to deal with troublesome customers ahead, and enter calming grounds and a sight of soaring gold and green cupolas, green trim, and fresh white painted, rendered masonry walls. We see an extraordinary interior, with 11th century frescoes and an elaborate gold screen in front of the altar. Outside I listen to a minstrel with long, wild white hair, playing a sort of broad, flat bodied guitar, singing some melancholy traditional song. Will says he reminds him of a friend of ours, Earl! I enjoy this place, and its peace.

Wow! They’re here! Being in the car with Ros and Hamish is however extraordinary - there is chatter and movement and a bit of a buzz, which is so very different from the quiet calm in the cabin Will and I have grown used to, along side the incessant rumble of the car on the road and the wonderful iPod outpourings of the likes of Grizzly Bear or Chemical Brothers, which we’ve enjoyed so much. I think I’d better get used to it…

Of course, its great to have them with us and for them to join our little caravan is it heads towards London. We’re off on the road again tomorrow…

[Photos: minstrel, St Sophia’s Cathedral; cupolas, St Michael’s Cathedral; family reunion at Borispol, Kiev, Airport]

Thursday, November 11, 2010

‘BACK IN THE USSR‘* by David




Well, Russia, anyway! We entered Russia for the second time at a very cold and bleak border crossing directly north of Uralsk, Kazakhstan. Uralsk is on the Ural River which drains to the Caspian Sea, probably a thousand km directly south (for those following our route, we planned to go to past the Caspian and enter Russia at Asrakhan, but we altered the route just a teensy bit, for various reasons.) As is now increasingly common at borders, our arrival by a car driven from Australia is a subject of amusement and, at times, incredulousness. For people in Central Asia there is, however, some difficulty in their grappling with the word ‘Australia‘ (in Russian, pronounced afstralii), but the mere mention of ‘kangaroo’ (or my hopping up and down in kangaroo pose, with ‘paws’ extended!) brings immediately understanding! Interestingly there is a common enquiry at borders, where passports are examined at many points, as to what the ‘animal’ is on the left side of our coat of arms (the kangaroo is on the right).

The border process, while always somewhat unpredictable, has settled into a broadly repetitious process (described for entry to a country in the following - exiting is not that dissimilar) of firstly a gate check of passports, visas and car registration, and issue of a small paper slip (noting my details, car brand, type, rego, etc.), a wait to allow vehicles ahead to clear, and then opening of the gate to allow entry to the border confines. The guards here (and elsewhere in the processing zone,) are often armed. [While usually close, when leaving Mongolia we found the first Russian gate check was probably 10km from the main border processing area!] After entering the border confines Immigration checks us against our photo ID (after some months Will shaved off his new beard to remove identity as a potential border entry problem for more ‘difficult’ countries ahead), examines and records details of passports and visas, checks a migration card which is completed by us in duplicate, stamps the card or visa, takes our photo (‘look at the camera please’ sort of comes across…), and then we proceed to Customs.

For Will Customs is brief, and requires him to walk through separately from the car. For me, as ‘driver’, it is more involved (we both drive but I gather they mean ‘owner‘). Customs declarations are completed in duplicate by me or for me depending on whether English is included on the form. If done for me, a payment may be required to be made, sometimes in US dollars. The car registration certificate is examined in detail, and usually a request made to point out where the registration number of the car appears on the confusing (for them) form. Chassis (VIN) and engine number are recorded on the form. In China these numbers were actually required by Customs to be shown to them at the appropriate places on the vehicle (ever tried to find the engine number on a car engine? Good luck.) and due to the sensitivity of the process, a separate, specialist company was employed by our Chinese tour organiser, NAVO, specifically to process our vehicle into and out of China! Some countries require a currency declaration also to be completed while others ask what currency we hold. [I need to retain this stamped declaration, any car entry approval produced (and migration card) for presentation at country exit.] At this point our Carnet is processed in some countries.

After all documentation requirements for the vehicle etc. are completed, a search of the vehicle by Customs follows, which varies in depth, and technology used depending on the bent of the group of inspectors. By this stage Will has re-joined me and we are required to open up whatever they want to check. Providing there is no third party insurance to arrange (the norm) we are given the wave and are allowed to drive up to the exit gate, present the paper slip to the border guard, now stamped and initialled at various stages, and then the last bar gate is raised and we can slowly drive through. This process usually takes around two to four hours in total for the two border controls at each border (in the police states (Kaz, etc.), passport registration, which essentially tracks our movement through the country, is a separate, stupid, additional process). While Will, as usual, is nonchalant, I find border crossings serious, and the processing tense and uncertain. Once through, the final step is for Will and I to firmly shake hands and for me at least, to marvel at where we have actually reached! At times this point is almost surreal.

I have digressed. Sorry! Back to Russia. From the Kazakh border we drove north to Samara, got lost, asked a taxi driver to take us to a hotel, any hotel… Please! He helpfully pointed down the road about a km to a hotel, described by sign language. We drove next day to Saratov (again a taxi was used.) This part of our route follows the Volga River south. The Volga is a vast waterway, which, at times is so wide as to make viewing of the other side difficult. There seem to be oil tankers using it. Our third and fourth nights on the Volga are spent at Volgograd, better known to the world as Stalingrad. As is now becoming the pattern, Will approached a taxi to lead us to a hotel - the Hotel Volgograd - which he did, without charge! This hotel was too expensive (Oh, how I pine for the days of $5 hotels!) so two hotels later we finally have a bed for the night. After a long day’s drive, with this on top, I am exhausted…

I know you are thinking our difficulty in finding hotels must be sheer incompetence! You are probably right, but the problem is compounded by the fact that here it is quite rare for the word ‘hotel’ to appear at all in the jumble of Cyrillic characters forming a hotel name…hence our need for taxis. [One of the mistakes I have made in our preparation was not spending money on extensive sat nav software - we have the hardware, and the main roads of our route (Garmin World Map), but not any cities].

Having read Anthony Beevor’s multi award winning book Stalingrad, which is a sobering but fascinating account of the repelling of the Germans from Stalingrad by Russia in World War 2 (which was to be a major turning point in the war), I naturally had an interest in seeing the city now called Volgograd. Will and I wandered slowly along the Volga, in weak but pleasant sunshine, to see a single building, a large brick former flour mill, retained in its ruined form, as it was at war’s end. It is a poignant sight, considering the whole of the city was effectively levelled by the months of bombing. What is seen lining the Volgograd streets now is the consequence of a massive Soviet post war rebuilding program. The many war memorials and museums of the city commemorate the sacrifice of about 1.5 million people, mainly German and Russian soldiers who lost their lives in the extraordinary battle for this city. We looked on at one of these memorials, one with a perpetual flame, in silence…

Next stop Ukraine. Yippee!

*We have enjoyed hearing about Jo Jo and the other girls from Mongolia to the second leg of Russia and wondered if this Beatles track, Back in the USSR, was associated with Beatles concerts in Mongolia and the USSR? Seems unlikely but suggesting this possibility was a quite unexpected and larger than life set of bronze sculptures of the four lads in the middle of UB of all places! Anyone know?

[Photos: Light show, on the road to Volgograd; Mother Russia holding a sword, is an 83m high (!) memorial to war dead on Hill 102 of WW2 infamy (now Mamaev Kurgan, Volgograd); former flour mill ruin, Volgograd]