A cry for Help from Cambodia

This is a supplement to my blog brought about by the harrowing experience I have just been through in Cambodia.    Having flown in to Phnom Penh to visit our charity I was aware of the fact that much of Thailand and Cambodia is flooded.   Indeed on Friday when Kate, our country manager, and I flew up to Siem Reap for a fund raising event we could see that huge areas of central Cambodia are under water.

This coupled with seeing the Siem Reap river over it’s banks and on the adjoining roads made us realise that the flooding is the worst Monsoon disaster to befall South east Asia in more than a decade.

Several of the guests at the fundraising had driven from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, some 3 hours normally, but the road is so crowded with animals and people that they were unable to drive at the normal speed.

All this seemed somewhat distant as we sat in Raffles sipping Gin and Tonic over the weekend but today realisation as to just how bad things are here came my way in a big way.

Having arrived back from Siem Reap yesterday the plan was to visit various slum areas around Phnom Penh to see if the ISFD could replicate it very successful education program in another needy part of the city.   Having visited two areas within the city which by the way is not openly flooded we headed off to a community on the banks of the Tonle Sap river just East of the centre of Phnom Penh.

It was obvious as we approached that some of the commune was affected but the full horror of the situation was unveiled when a local boatman persuaded Vicheka, Seenna and I to go for a trip in his dug out.  

Seeing a flood from 10,000 feet or passing it in a taxi is not like being in it and experience the true horror of fetid water or children, parents, pets and animals all perched on pallets just above the water.

I have posted a number of pictures on the Blog site but as I wanted to email this to as many people as possible I only include one here in the text.

The water varied from a foot deep to what must be 8 foot as only the power lines and roof tops were visible.   Most of the houses are completely inundated and the families have built makeshift mezzanines just above the water level.  

What  is extraordinary is the fact that they all great us with a smile and seem completely nonplussed by their predicament.   Vicheka later told me that they are resigned to their fate and hence just accept it.   But to see children in their spotless school uniforms rowing tractor inner tubes with a bowl in the middle, little rug outs and rafts to school shows amazing resilience to me.

I am not yet sure how we can help, I think there will be a major disease problem within the next week and this may be an area we can directly focus on.   Certainly, even if the rain ceases, best estimates is it will take two weeks for the flooding to subside.

If you feel that you would like to help, can I ask that you place a donation on our website www.indochinastarfish.org and just enter FLOOD RELIEF in the comment/message field.

We will make sure we do not waste the money I promise.

Paul Markland

17^th October 2010

Down we go to Calcutta

After Everest it has been difficult to get excited about the remaining few days travel, however, Tibet was not finished with us in regard to awesome sights.   As we continued across the plateau we stopped at a hot spa hotel for a swim and from there got a fantastic view back over the plateau to Everest probably 100 miles away, in fact that day was the clearest of all and we could see Everest for miles as we travelled on towards Nepal.

If that was not enough our last 5,200 metre pass took us to a viewing point of the Western Himalayas and once again we could see numerous 7 and 8,000 metre peaks from the top of the pass, again not a cloud in the sky.

This however was the last of Tibet and we descended through a forest lined gorge all the way down to Kathmandu, passing through the border at Zhengmu.   The most notable features of this gorge were the 2,000 feet plus waterfalls cascading down the sides from the Himalaya peaks just out of sight above.   The road was atrocious and so only Pippa got to see the most impressive waterfalls as I struggled to keep the car from dropping into a gorge !

Kathmandu did nothing for us, dirty, hot with poor roads but the surrounding area has breathtaking beauty and unlike Tibet is deeply wooded and cultivated.   The Yak and Yeti Hotel was fun if only because of it’s name and the fact it is the most famous hotel for mountaineers in the world although the cockroach in my rice was definitely not a celebrity.   Most Everest climbs seem to start and finish here along with the thousands of trekkers who walk the foothills.

A final super drive south from Kathmandu through more passes and valleys saw us arrive at the southern East/West highway that transects Nepal.    This was the end of our mountain adventures and the beginning of a dreadful 1100 Kms three day drive to Calcutta.

Nothing can fully describe the bone shaking, car wrecking roads of Northern India and to say we made it was an achievement all in it’s own.   The Bentley suffered terribly and arrived in Calcutta badly damaged from the shocking potholes that saw us abandon the exhaust on the road side, empty the boot onto the track leaving a 12V Car Battery and wheel spanner (probably or maybe hopefully through the radiator of some careening bus).

The last we saw of the exhaust after I had demounted the remnants from under the car was two little men running off down the road with it, presumably to be fitted to another car later that day.

Pippa and I were so relieved to get into and through Calcutta that we hardly even remembered to congratulate one another on completing the rally !.   I determined that I had seen enough of India on the three day drive, that it hasn’t changed since I worked here in the early 80’s and that the best place to stay was inside the Oberoi Grand hotel until my flight home two days later.

To say we disliked the last three days of the rally is an understatement, having nursed the Bentley all the way from London it was sole destroying seeing it being wrecked just as we completed the 15,000 km drive.    Ironically, the tyres which we had not expected to last the whole route did with tread to spare and so the 4 new old ones I shipped out never left the roof of the Landrover.    However, thank heavens we also shipped out the inner tubes, as the heavy duty Michelin ones saw us drive from Bishkek to Calcutta without any repeat of the earlier daily punctures.

The charging system did come back into it’s own during the last days when, in order to ensure the horn and lights worked, I bypassed the regulator completely and stuck a nail in the charging circuit fuse.   This kept the second hand Pamir battery fully charged the whole way to Calcutta and meant we could lean on the horn as much as the next man !

Pippa was a star in the last two days when I was feeling so tired after driving for 10 hours continuously in the most manic traffic conditions imaginable when she took over and drove for a few hours to give me a rest.   All worth it when ‘big hands Bruce’ was waiting at the Oberoi as we arrived having wooed her all the way from Australia to Kashgar !   Hope it all goes well for you Pippa.

So the end of an epic adventure, probably the hardest drive I have been involved in and one that had two or three monumental highlights – Tajikistan, Afghanistan and Everest.  

It’s off to Cambodia for me now to meet up with our charity country manager, some contrast that is going to be.    If you have enjoyed the blog and would like to know more about the ISF or make a donation then please go to www.indochinastarfish.org.

Paul

To Everest and beyond

Well what an incredible few days it has been.    The two days in Lhasa were interesting but a bit clinical.   The old town has been largely demolished by the Chinese and replaced with new buildings, streets and parks.   Only one Temple, the Potala Palace and a small shopping area remain.   The hotel we stayed in, the St Regis, was fabulous but also new and run by Sheraton.   Of course the people were the same and they are so friendly it is a joy to wander the streets or drive around in the car which guarantees a mobbing.   In fact so many people tried to see the Bentley outside the palace that the police came over and insisted I move the car into the palace entrance rather than block the 8 lane highway outside !    The most common descriptive being ‘Cool Car’.

So although I got to see the outside of the Palace, I never saw the inside !   I did no work on the car in Lhasa as I did not want to miss anything happening there.   As it so happened most of our issues are at least stable so there was no real necessity to do more than giving it a wash.

During this stop the politics of the rally reached a crescendo with the Grieves demanding a three night stop in the hotel, Phil and Lorette, lost in China, expected to arrive at any moment – our guide, ‘One’ or (Won) trying to get our exit document couriered from Urumqi to Lhasa involving him meeting one of his colleagues in ChongChing and the rest of us, all five, trying to get a guide sorted out to take us to Everest !   What a carry on, anyway eventually Tensing joins us, most auspicious name we felt, and he is to guide the Bentley and two Land Rovers to Everest North Base Camp.   Leaving the others to sort themselves out whilst ‘One’ is away.

So of we go, broadly together for the two day drive to Old Tingri from where we can take the track to Everest.   The drive over the Tibetan Plateau is straightforward, the road is excellent and the scenery brilliant.   Much of the way we follow a river through the town of Shignase and onto Lartze.   A stop in the former to look at a small version of the Potala Palace and to see a traditional Tibet dance routine at the famous temple there.   It is the midst of a Tibetan Holiday so the streets are full of families enjoying the time off.

Latze is fairly unremarkable but our small hotel is adequate and we find a good café for a meal.

I should update you on my new navigator.   Pippa is the rally doctor, same age as my daughter Ayesha, and a very suitable driving companion although I wonder what the locals must think !.   She volunteered for the duty even though she hates being cold, so armed with all the clothes she possesses along with David’s sleeping bag she has taken over the navigator’s seat in the Bentley.    Considerably better looking than David, I can find nothing to complain about !

Luckily this side of Lhasa is much warmer and besides the first hour or so in the morning we have been stripping off clothes all day as the sunshine has raised the temperature to that of Spain or Italy in the summer.  

Our second day on the road to Everest consisted of a run of 120 Kms to New Tingri to drop the Bentley off at a small hotel there.   I had already decided after much discussion that, although it would be fabulous to have the Bentley reach Base Camp, it was likely to do considerable damage as the road is a hard rock track and not even gravel.   So, discretion being the better part of valour, the car was left to cool it’s heals on the main road.

We had to get various passes and permissions to go up the track but having secured these we are finally on our way for the 104 Kms run to base Camp at 5,200m (17,200 Feet).   The rally Landrover, which has been running on 4 out of 5 cylinders for weeks, creeps up the hill with Conrad, Pippa and I on board.   What a wreck, reminded me of the 100 reasons I had listed some months ago as to why I should never buy another Landy !    Anyway we crept up the hill at 25 KPH , first we have to scale a 5,000m pass from the top of which, on a good day you can see Everest.   We made it up but there was too much cloud to see the big peaks.   Undaunted we then went down a 1,000m or so to the valley below and an area of outstanding beauty, lots of small farms dotted everywhere, all cultivating wheat.   This is the harvest season so whole villages are out in the fields working together as a community to get the crops in.

We stop at a small town, no idea of it’s name, half way up to Base Camp and have a Sichuan lunch in a small café next to several army soldiers, guarding heavens knows what.   In fact the whole of Tibet is full of Chinese army, seems like for every citizen there is a Chinese soldier, talk about paranoia !   Anyway, lunch is excellent  and include my favourite condiment, Soya Sauce, or in this part of the world ‘Jung Yo’   Not only have I got this written down in Chinese characters but can now confidently order it all over China and be understood, a major achievement alongside ‘beer’, ‘good morning’ and ‘thank you’ !

On up the mountain we go, second major hill climb to the entrance to Everest area, just as we are slowing to go through yet another checkpoint, I spot Everest, peeping over a hillside ahead of us.   ‘Stop the Car, let me out’, not willing to risk missing the only sighting we will have of it if the weather closes in, I jump out and take the first photo.   I need not of worried as the closer we got to Everest the more we see of it.   Although there was cloud around it was fair weather cumulus and was only blocking small areas of the vast horizon.

On the road up we have met dozens of cyclist, yes, daft people who like to ride uphill for days at a time, breathing the exhaust fumes of passing 4x4’s and suffering from being thrown over their handlebars regularly on the nigh on impossible road surface.   Most have ‘only’ come from Lhasa but there is the odd one who has cycled from Parsons Green !   We take our hats off to them well done team leader David !, hope you have the energy to read this !

Finally we approach the Rombok Monastery, the highest on Earth, Yaks, Monks, Tourists, Cyclists, and us all at one of the highest and most awesome spots on this planet.   All the time Everest looms larger and larger preceded by the Rombok Glacier touching the track in front of us.

It is time to pause to reflect on the enormity of our luck, Everest in full view, only happens 9 to 15 days per annum, a Yurt awaiting us, all are full but we bought the vegetables which gets us special treatment (the yurt owners rarely see fresh vegetables due to the difficulty of getting them there, so our Doma kicked out her sitting tenants and sold our veg to her mates we think for a vast profit.)    These yurts are not Mongolian round ones, they are basically a rectangular steel frame with a plastic sheet walls and roof.   As such they hold no heat and the moment the stove goes out the temperature plummets to sub zero inside.    However, at least we have one and are not sleeping outside in our car like some.   With our guide there are six of us which just so happens to fill our yurt !

But first, what of the base camp, we jump in our Eco Bus, that’s what they call it ! and travel 8 Kms up the road to the Base Camp itself belching fumes as we go.   Everest all before us, small amount of cloud, but the North Face and the Glacier clear as a bell as we reach the highest point we are allowed to go without a mountaineering licence.   Atop a small rise we can see right up the Glacier to the peak above, doesn’t look far or even hard to walk but unfortunately we really do not have time to press on to the summit.

Conrad and Bernard spend 30 mins helping adjust my camera for the perfect shot as setting the thing to ‘Auto’ does not do the mountain justice.    Pippa who had some reservations about coming up the Everest has now changed her mind and is madly looking for the shot to send home to mum or big hand Bruce as we have named her potential beau, yes he is Australian.

100 photos later it is back to Base Camp, wow, stop the bus, I spot a wolf with a mountain hare in it’s mouth loping up the slope 100 yards from us.   After a struggle with the Eco bus window and doors, we finally get a photo of the back end of the wolf with it’s mouth full.   Conrad whilst opting to walk back from the view point, hears said wolf and wonders whether it has eaten well as he dashes for safety.

Back at camp we get inside as the temperature drops.   Having persuaded Doma to light the stove, full of yak dung and rabbit droppings, we sit back and enjoy a Tibetan Brandy, Cointeau (c/o Bernard) and Chai.   After a meal of Yak and our vegetables, much diminished after the sell off, we head for bed in all our clothes plus two duvets a piece.   The end of the most epic day of this rally.

Sunrise, no sign of Everest, cloaked in a band of stratus and cumulus above, well we have our photos but just maybe the clouds will lift if we hand on.   Breakfast is terrible, a stodgy pancake washed done with warm sweet coffee from a three in one pack.   I break out the Himalaya stove and fire up some real tea and coffee for the troops, much better !

After breakfast we see signs of improvement, slight outline of Everest in the cloud, we are going to wait.   An hour later we are certain that patience will pay off,   the mountain is shaking off it’s mantle and reappearing in all it’s glory.    Click, click, click, many more photos for me, one for Conrad (he is extremely fussy what he uses his 35 mm 24 shot camera for ).   Composition, Composition goes up the cry and I am struggling to get the small temple in the fore ground without whiting out Everest behind.   Eventually I turn to the camcorder, set it up on a tripod and leave it running for 10 minutes, capturing the tranquillity of the place interspersed with Chinese chittachatter, the damn Eco bus and the flutter of passing doves.   All done it is back to the Yurt to pack up, load the Landy’s and set off down the hill again to rejoin the main road and collect the Bentley.  

As we mount the first ridge above the road, the cloud clears and we can see 5 of the big 8 mountains of the world all in front of us,   cannot get all in a single photo but the view is breathtaking.   Conrad even uses up one of his 24 shots, the second in so many days !

As I drive us down the last few miles to the road we are all very quiet in the car, this has been a very special two days, you can say what you like but seeing the highest point on earth is definitely one of the 500 things to do before you die ….

Up the Hill

We depart Dunhuang for the three day drive up from the plains of Xinjiang to the capital of Tibet, Lhasa.   We are expecting a difficult three days mostly revolving around the roads, however this is not in fact the biggest challenge David and I face.

The road surface is in fact pretty good tarmac with the exception of large dips and ridges which force the Bentley suspension to bottom out and rattle the whole car.   During this period we break one of the fuel tank guard brackets again and due to a parking mishap in Na Qu knock the exhaust pipe through into one of the silencers.   Besides this the charging system remains erratic but controllable with the nightly charging of one of the two batteries we now carry.   Most positively the inner tubes held out and we have had no further punctures or flats, fingers crossed this continues.

The second surprise is that the Porsche comes up the hill with us, our guide was unable to get them on the train due to permit restrictions and they were forced to take to the road.   Although it was a struggle for Chris he managed to coax the car over the 17,000 foot passes where the Porsche became truly gutless.   We did some work on the timing and found the points barely open on the first night, sorting out these issues made quite some difference but the car is still very erratic.  

On the first day we drove over the initial high pass, this day took us up through barren countryside until we reached a plateaux at about 14,500 feet.   This grassy high plain was surrounded in the distance by snow capped mountains rising to about 20,000 feet and along this plain we saw our first glacier heading down towards us.   Although the scenery was exhilarating to begin with one soon became accustomed to it and was looking forward to the next big view !

The day was marred by a bitterly cold wind which made sitting in the Bentley a very uncomfortable experience.   After the loss of our clothes in Osh, Liz Grieves had bought us both a Russian fur hat and a scarf along with a thick jacket for David.    Thanks heavens she did as over these three days we wore just about everything we owned.   The cold coupled with extreme altitude made doing anything strenuous extremely tiring and we arrived each afternoon frozen and exhausted.   Luckily neither David or I suffered from AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) and were able to avoid the dangers resulting from that.   In fact although some of the group had mild affects we largely avoided any serious problems even though we ascended so rapidly, the most likely time AMS will be acute.

After three days at heights over 15,000 ft one becomes fully acclimatised but unfortunately nothing can prepare you for the bighting cold of sitting in an open car in sub zero temperatures.   We even experienced snowfall, freezing rain and hail, luckily for only short periods !

However, back to the scenery, on the second day it became truly amazing when we went over a 17,400 ft (5,244m) pass in snow and completely surrounded by towering peaks, the real Himalayas had arrived with a vengeance.   Again however, much of the drive was on the high plain which, except for the cold reminded us of the Alto Plano of Bolivia.

It was on this second day that we seamlessly entered Tibet, without even knowing it.   However, we arrived in Na Qu ahead of the guide and this was a major mistake, within minutes of reaching the wrong hotel we had the Police swoop down on us to find out who we were and why we had no guide with us.   They were very pleasant to us and even helped us find the other Na Qu hotel but they took our guide to bits when he arrived so much so that for the third day we had to suffer a convoy system the last 350 Kms into Lhasa.

The hotels we stayed in, if you can call them that, are the worst we have seen, freezing cold, no food and a non existent breakfast so we are both looking forward to warmth and a big juicy steak in Lhasa !   However we did manage a really good Yak stew in Na Qu which although a bit tough was warming and full of vegetables and potatoes.

David was finding the cold all too much and has decided to abort the rally in Lhasa.   With the prospect of another week at very high altitude and in freezing weather it is just not good for him.   So from Lhasa I struggle on alone, hopefully with one of the support crew as a navigator.   This is really disappointing but neither David nor I had really expected quite such cold and, to be honest, were not well prepared for it.   However, we have had a good time up until now and I shall miss my astute navigator and fellow adventurer.

Worst still is my trip to Everest is up in the air, since our guides roasting in Na Qu we have to travel in cars together and getting everyone to agree to stop below Everest so some can detour up to it is proving difficult.   Chris and Liz want to get home to the World Cup, Bernard and Dina have booked unchangeable flights for the day we arrive in Calcutta and that leaves just Conrad and I who are dead keen to visit Everest North Base Camp.   Who knows, watch this space.

Anyway the trip up the hill has been memorable and we have met a lot of Tibetan’s and Chinese along the way which has been fun.   Given out lots of sweets to kids and taken some breathtaking photos which I hope to get on the Blog shortly.

As we arrived in the St Regis hotel in Lhasa, David and I sighed with relief to be over the cold for two days and into a warm hotel….

Farewell the plains

From Turpan we continue on around the Taklimakan desert to Dunhuang, the start of the Great Wall of China.   The drive is uninspiring but includes the worst ‘off’ we have had so far in China.   It is so bad that driving in the sand I can see nothing and have no real idea whether the lorries in front of us are coming towards us or going the same way.   Very scary and after 10 or so kilometres we notice a stretch of tarmac to our right which seems to be intact.   Ignoring the signs and piles of earth we find a way onto this tarmac and are soon driving alongside the off on a clear road with good visibility.    We are not sure whether we will be forced to turn back at some point but for now we are going strong and can see the odd place where we cools rejoin the ‘off’ if forced to do so.

I should explain that the de rigour in China is to divert cars off the road for road works rather than closing a lane.   This is coupled by huge piles of earth to block any driver from trying to do what we have just done by closing access to all alternative tarmac stretches.    However, every so often the piles of earth have suffered a flattening or bypassing and the brave ignore the minimal signs and just drive on the tarmac.

Signage here is so bad that on a dual carriageway we met a lorry in the outside lane that should have been over the barriers on the other carriageway.   He had missed the rotten sign that told him to rejoin his carriageway after an ‘off’ and hence brought him down the road the wrong way, imagine the consequences of that in England !.  

Further on we met a queue of lorries disappearing into the distance as far as the eye could see.   Four wheel drive vehicles were leaving the carriageway and driving in the sand to bypass the blockage.   As we were foreigners in a Bentley we just drove down the centre of the road waving the on coming traffic out of the way until 5 kilometres or so later we reaches the accident that had caused the blockage.   I love Chinese lorry drivers they would not let a local car through but it was like the parting of the Red or was it Dead sea for us !.   Awful accident, a shunt I am told, one lorry into the back of another, enough said, I was too busy bypassing it to look.

We were really quite pleased when we turned off the Beijing road to take the southern route to Dunhuang and Tibet, no lorries to contend with.   It should be said that the lorries, thousands of them, were all going East to Xinjiang province, the boom area of Eastern China since they struck Oil and Gas there some 10 years ago.   The growth is extraordinary and we cannot believe the change since our passing through here in 2005.

The new road to Dunhuang goes right between two sections of the Great Wall and this confuse the hell out of me as we had always seen it on the right before appearing out of the desert.   Now it is less on a sudden appearance but no less just as impressive.   But what of Dunhuang, the small desert town in the Taklimakan, well it is no longer small but has become a must visit tourist sight in China.   What a great place, all recently built but complete with idyllic pagoda lake, huge night market, big food street and a very cosmopolitan population.   

Loved it, food was excellent, thoroughly recommend Yangzhou Chou Fan, the Beijing Duck, Rack of Lamb (Chinese Style – more rack than lamb) and chicken with some meat on the bone (common complaint on this trip all bone no meat !).   Got the car on a lift here and managed to do the oiling and sort out more loose bits.   The charging circuit is still not functioning properly but problem is no longer in the Dynamo but somewhere in the Regulator I think.   More or less given up and just travelling with two charged batteries.   We have 10 driving days left so we will just charge up a battery every night until we get to India.

However, the adventure is about to begin, we face several 5,400 metres passes in the next few days as well as Everest Base Camp which I think is nearer 6,000 metres.   David along with the Grieves is going to take the train to Lhasa whilst I with one of the support crew will drive the Bentley.   There will just be us along with two Landrovers going up so at least we should have great backup !.

Western China has just changed so much in the last decade, not just economically but more importantly, socially.   It is clear that the government have realised that Tieneman Square was a watershed and since then have tried to find a way forward that takes the people with them.   I believe they have succeeded, no longer do you EVER see a Mao Test Tung uniform, p[people are more articulate, many have a smattering of English, the children are more animated, the young more sophisticated.   It is quite remarkable and, coupled with there obvious drive towards reduced carbon technology, seems to me that they are far ahead of the conventional wisdom that the West thinks they understand about the country.  

To me the social change is even more important than the economic change as the former was always the greatest threat to the one party system.   Clearly the leaders have recognised this and although they may be slow to react in Western terms they are undoubtedly taken a course that will bring the country forward without rocking the boat.

As we leave the plains for the mountains I can only wonder what things will be like in 5 years time if we are lucky enough to return.

The Taklimakan

Kashgar is not the rest day we hoped for instead we spend a whole day at the Traffic Police Test Centre having the cars MOT’d and Driving Licences issued.   We have picked the day the traffic police move from their downtown office in Atway to a new facility out on the main highway.   Back and forth we go, the MOT is a fiasco, Bentley brakes cannot be tested on a rolling road and the headlights are so far out the automated machine cannot even find the beams !.   But we are passed !, onto the medical ‘What is your height’, ‘eh! 185cms’, ‘OK that’s good, next please”.   Finally at 1800 we depart back to the hotel with our Driving Licence but still await the number plates for the car.   What a waste of a day.   Luckily I took my laptop with me so was able to get the last weeks Blog editions sorted out ready for transmission and prepared replies to 20 or so emails.   Then I had another go at the Regulator and fixed a few more bits that are dropping off.

Lunch was in the test centre, a very good fried rice with fresh vegetables washed down with chi (tea).   Dinner was a quite affair back at the hotel, I just ate all they put in front of me I have been so hungry whilst travelling in the Stans.

So, mega disappointment, I did not get to see how much Kashgar had changed since 2005 but one thing I did notice, ALL I repeat ALL, scooters and moped are now electric in the city.   Oh! So one day Lee Fat Ching or whatever his name is stood up and said ‘no more combustion engines’ and there came to pass that all combustion engines were banned.   Try and do that in Europe and see how many judicial reviews you face.   Bloody good though for the environment, China seems way ahead, solar power for heating, all lights are eco bulbs, 1000’s of wind turbines, electric scooters and I think we saw many electric taxis, all in the space of a few years !,  maybe one party government does work !   Cannot see me converting the Bentley though.

So off we go around the Taklimakan desert, 3 times before I have done this, first on no roads, second on a poor road, third on a good road and this time much of it on a 4 lane motorway !.   The drive to Aksu, Korla and Turpan are all very easy except for the occasional ‘offs’, one of which lasted 60 kilometres between Aksu and Korla.   However, in the main we can push along, two speeding tickets, great pictures of the Bentley, neither of which they would let me keep !, no fine, just a friendly photo with the car whilst they call their friends to come and see what they have stopped.

On On around the desert, oilfields appearing in the distance, Aksu and Korla seem to have grown enormously in size and now have large industrial areas near them.   The people are the same, mainly Oighers and other non Han, so the plan to flood the area with Eastern Chinese does not seem to be working.   Time is Beijing for Hotels and Officials, two hours ahead of the correct local time.   I am staying on Local time, as it is what the locals use and means day breaks at 0700 not 0900.   David is on Beijing time so thinks we are staring very late each morning !

Car is not too bad, charging system failed completely but in Korla we managed to change the engine oil, fix David’s seat which had been threatening to fall out of the door onto the road, repair the exhaust pipe bracket that broke on the big ‘off’ and generally tighten up a few bits and pieces.   I contacted Ian Crook, the auto electrician guru in Totnes who overhauled the dynamo and he gave me tests to do on the unit.   Nothing works and eventually I take the dynamo out, partially strip it and clean everything – still nothing works !.   We charge a battery overnight each night using a fairly poor Chinese battery charger but this gives us enough power for the Fuel Pump and Overdrive the next day providing we do not use lights or the indicators.   Bit exhausting but at least we can keep going whilst others are scuppered.

The Morgan has just left Kashgar having been rebuilt by Phil, however, we hear it only made it to the border before dying and is now going to be shipped through China by truck and then home by sea, a great shame but it was not the car for this trip.   Phil and Lorette are meeting us in Lhasa or so I hear.   The Porsche is going well with the repaired clutch forks but Chris does not seem to think he can get it up the mountain to Lhasa as the engine performs badly at altitude.   Chris George, our engineer in the UK, suggested they advance the timing as I do on The Bentley however, we can do it on the steering column, the Porsche would require physically turning the distributor.

So, current plan it to truck Porsche up to and presumable through Tibet whilst Chris and Liz go there by train from Golmud I think.   Apparently train is pressurised so they is no chance of altitude sickness on the way up, not sure what happens once you get there, take Diamox I guess.

So, could just be the Bentley going up the hill along with a couple of modern, state of the art (if there is such a thing) Landrovers, one of which is only firing on 4 out of 5 cylinders !   Lets just hope the B keeps on trucking, it doesn’t seem to mind the altitude although I am not so sure about it’s driver and passenger.

So, here we are in Turpan, third lowest place on earth and supposedly the hottest place in China, which I would dispute having stood in a blast furnace in Wuhan, the town known as the boiler room of China, 50 degrees plus !   However, I have just had Peking Duck for lunch whilst David had a very fine Crispy Pork and will shortly be taking the Dynamo apart again with the help of Ian on the end of the phone as I reach various test stages.   Fingers crossed we find a solution to this issue.

Sorry about photo’s. it has been impossible to upload to the Blog for two weeks now but I do hope that by the time you read this there will be fresh photos on the Blog site for you to flip through.

On to China and Kashgar

Bishkek is a very busy rest day for us.   We had to get some of the Bentley problems sorted out.   At the top of the list was the charging system but before I can work on this I need a battery charger and some bits and pieces for the days ahead.   The Morgan and Porsche had arrived overnight and were parked in their lorries at the hotel

But what of my tyres, sent from the UK by UPS and bound, from past experience, to be tied up in customs.   Well, they are at the hotel !   Thanks to Charles Wunderle at Ecoflow and Amrit Gurung at the Hyatt they have managed to expedite the tyres and tubes and got them to the hotel where they are waiting for me in a storeroom.   I can honestly say this is the first time I can remember anyone getting a spares package into an Asia country without massive problems usually leading to the parts being lost.   Well done and thank you Charles and Amrit.

First thing in the morning we, along with two translators from the hotel set off to a Mercedes garage to have the broken cars looked at.   David and I follow on but then deviate to a car shop to buy the charger etc.   This was remarkably easy in Bishkek and we got most of the things we need all in the first shop we stop at.   I tried to get a new regulator in case the one on the Bentley is kaput but this was not possible.

Returning to the Hyatt, I got to work on the charging system with Bernard and Jim.   It takes most of the day and finally in desperation I phone Chris Simons in the UK who contacts an auto electrician from Bovey Tracey.   Over 4 calls Nick gives me directions and eventually we isolate the problem to the regulator.   However, we are out of time, I need to get the tyres sorted out and new inner tubes fitted before we leave town.   Conrad, Bernard and I head off to a Vulcaniser who is really good at identifying our problem and trying to overcome it by making an addition strip of rubber for to cover the spokes.   We do this to one wheel as an experiment and in the days ahead will assess whether this improves our inner tube problems.

I have not had time to do an oil change but as the dark settles in I check the oil levels and top up.   Two new brackets for my sump guard have appeared from the Mercedes garage and I hope to fit these the following day.   In the dark we load the Landrover with spare tyres and tubes before heading inside for a huge steak and chips.    Exhausted I head for bed, I have lost 6 pounds on this trip already and this may be the positive spin off from the bad road and car problem !

Departing Bishkek at dawn we head for Narin, a really bad experience in 2000 repeated again this time as the road slowly deteriorates as we go into the hills.   The car holds out using the rally booster battery as a power source.   We arrive in Narin in good time whilst there are still 4 hours of daylight left.

I decide to leave the regulator until last and concentrate on getting the sump guard brackets on and the bumpers tightened up.    Then it is time to clear the air filter again and check the mixture.   I am then ready to have another go at the charging system and remove the regulator from the car so I can see what is wrong.   Finding a number of loose things which I tighten, I can see why we may not be charging.   Following reassembly I run the car and ‘Hey presto’ we are charging, at least for a short time.   We are getting closer to the issue but I am out of time so need to leave it for Kashgar.

I am determined to wash the car it is covered in dust and looks dreadful, so this becomes the final priority before dinner and bed.   It will get filthy again the next day but at least it felt better with the grime off.

We depart Narin for the Chinese border at daybreak, we know this will be a difficult road getting worse as we cross the mountains to the south and finally reach the Tologut Pass, the 12,000 foot entry point into China.   The charging circuits comes on and off so we are still reliant on an outside source of power but we have no further problems with tubes or rattles.   The road is so bad for the last 20 miles that we are doing no more that 16 mph over the bumps.  

Finally reaching the border we start the endless exit checks for Kyrgyzstan, they seem to have got worse in the last few years rather than better.   Finally we are through, past the 3 miles of queuing lorries and into no mans land bound for China.   On the Chinese side we are held up whilst our guide appears from the bottom of the mountain.   Once he is on board we hare down the hill to the passport and customs some 100 Kms from the border proper.

The regulator is working on this stretch but the problem is still intermittently breaking the circuit.   Once through customs and immigration and having purchased a bottle of Armagnac in Duty Free we head on to the hotel in Kashgar.   The time zone here is the same as Beijing which is ridiculous as it means daylight from 0830 to 2100.   This is made worse by the fact that the locals use their own time two hours behind Beijing.   As such who knows what time anything opens or closes.

Our Hotel is miles from the town centre and we are all really disappointed about this, not a restaurant in sight and we have to settle for a very mediocre meal in the Hotel.   Four Star but water still runs out of the shower and across the floor to a drain !   Better than some we have stayed at in the past but hardly a Hyatt.

Hopefully, China is the start of better roads and an easier drive at least until we approach Tibet…

The Pamir Highway and Kyrgyzstan

The road to Khorog is an improvement and although slow gets us in before dark and in fair shape.   The scenery along the Oxus river is amazing and the drive requires a blend of avoiding potholes whilst trying to see all around us.   The footpath along the afghan side continues for miles before finally petering out in the middle of nowhere.   We see a lot of people on the path going to and fro but they are just out of shouting range.

The car charging system has started to fail and we are no longer charging the battery as we travel which is a worry but hopefully we can fix the problem in the coming days.

Waking up in Khorog , in sight of the border crossing into Afghanistan is exciting and we all tripe down to the Consul to see if we can get visas.   He is very helpful and pleased that we plan to visit even if it is only for an hour or two..   Needless to say there is a cost involved but having come this far we can hardly not go through with the visit.

Visa in hand we go back to the hotel and walk down to the border crossing, which is a small bridge over the Oxus.   No problem getting out of Tajikistan or into Afghanistan although the Tajiks thought we were mad to visit that ‘dreadful place’.

Incredibly Lucky, as the town is 7 kilometres away, I talk to an Afghan who speaks perfect English and is leaving the country for a posting in Quebec !   He is the local police chiefs brother and arranges for a car to take the 5 of us to the local town.   Here we are met with great glee by all as they rarely see visitors from Tajikistan and even less from Europe.   We are taken to an eating house for lunch and some local music whilst they pull and prod everything we have.   No one speaks a word of English but with the help of our Point It book we get by and have a really interesting lunch.

After lunch they take us to their bazaar which is surprisingly well stocked with goods and food, although the hanging meat covered in wasps is a bit of a concern as Chris and I have just eaten some of that !

I am persuaded to buy a ‘Burberry’ bag for 5 dollars from one of the traders and return to Tajikistan with this along with a new Afghan cap.   The kids are all very well dressed and the women mainly uncovered.   The local area is called Badadistan and is clearly more tolerant than some parts of the country.

After a further hour or so and having handed out quite a bit of small money to various parties we are on our way back to the bridge in an old Toyota  which bangs and crashes down the rough track to the border.

I had been keen to visit Afghanistan whilst being very nervous.   As it turned out the people were brilliant and we really enjoyed our brief experience whilst remembering how bad things are further south in Helmand.   Anyway we have done it and I would not have missed it.

A restful evening in Khorog before the rigours of the drive down the Pamir Highway – 400 Kms at about 12,000 feet.

Leaving Khorog we expect a very difficult road over the Pamir Highway to Murgob, as it turns out this is actually not so bad and we make good time up the mountain to 12,000 feet and the plateau beyond.   It is our first cold days drive really and we have to break out coats and gloves for the trip.   The Pamir Highway is a famous road in these parts and it is true to say the scenery is sublime, however after 300 Kms of it we were very pleased to see Murgob ahead, not least because we were running very low on fuel.  

The only fuel in the town was 80 Octane which is really not very good for high altitude work.   We were lucky that one of the many people who came to look at the car knew of a secret stash of 95 Octane fuel, this turned out to be in the back yard of a local house.   Having refuelled we had the decision to make as to whether we stopped in Murgob overnight as planned or press on towards Osh being as it was only 1300.

Bernard and Dina had arrived a little before us and felt that pushing on to a lakefront Homestay 130 Kms closer to Osh made sense and we agreed.   Four hours later we arrived at a tiny village on a lake with several huge ‘Homestay’ signs painted on house walls.   We had been told of a specific one and so went there.   It was cosy to say the least, we met a cyclist from New Zealand going home from the UK !, a Oigher (pronounced weegar) tour guide who was en route to the Kyrgyz border and of course Bernard and Dina.

After dumplings for tea we tried out the ‘douche’ which consisted of standing in a small hut with a huge water boiler, fired by wood, a bucket of cold water and a saucepan.    What looked like a disaster actually turned out to be a really good way of warming up whilst cleaning up !   After this experience an hour spent driving children around the village was followed by some bread and jam for supper.   David had the full meal but I was not hungry after the dumplings earlier.   Beds consisted on two duvets on the floor of a private ‘suite’, hard but warm.

The following day we pressed on to the Kyrgyzstan border which required us to climb through two further passes at some 4,500 metres (15,000 feet), at this altitude we were in snow rather than just seeing it the day before.   Bitterly cold wind made the passes quite an event and we were really pleased when we made it to the border post.

The car charging system still refuses to work and we had to be bump started at the Homestay.   The situation worsened after the border when the car stopped completely in no mans land.   Luckily Bernard and Dina realised something was wrong and came back to see what had happened.  They gave us a pull to start the engine and we then went on in convoy to the Kyrgyz side of the border.   Once through we headed across the plateau to Osh, dangerously low on fuel and desperate for a source of power to replace our faltering battery and my failing power pack.

We arrive in a small town that has a petrol station and refuel without difficulty.   However, the battery situation has worsened and I do a deal with the garage owner to buy the battery from his mate’s car for USD 100, damn expensive but we need it.   Once this is installed we head off again, freezing cold and very windy but we are making progress, well for 1 mile or so, then the car just gives up with a cloud of black smoke.  

After trying a number of things we limp back to the garage to be told the nearest mechanic is 100 Kms away.   We stop to wait for the last Landrover in the hope he can help but in the meantime I work my way through the problem and come to the conclusion that the air filter could be an issue.   Taking this out takes a second and it is covered in dust from a dust storm the day before and a week of appalling roads in Tajikistan.   Having beaten the dust out I replace the filter and the engine starts first time, thank heavens for that, a three hour wait for the Landy with a Morgan on the back has been averted.

The descent to Osh continued without further incident, a final high pass, reasonable road, minimal traffic and then we were there signing with relief.

We hear that the Morgan is dead and that Conrad and co will bypass Osh and drive straight to Bishkek.   I head out to find a battery charger to buy or hire but soon realise all I will be able to do is get someone to put a charge in a single battery.   My taxi driver is really helpful and connects me with his friend who speaks good English and explains to the charging people what I am after, unfortunately Osh is not the place for buying a charger.

Returning to the hotel Chris, Liz, Bernard and Dina are ready to go off for supper to the Richman Club, this turns out to be a restaurant made up of private rooms with curtains and red upholstery.   Not sure it is a good place for a meal !, more like a knocking shop.   Anyway we order and sure enough the food is very slow and inedible.   So hungry but two pints of beer later we return to the ‘Deluxe’ hotel and bed.

In the morning I find our car has been rifled and we have lost all our coats, my Afghanistan hat and Burberry bag and all my good clothes for our return home !.   What can you say, Chris had paid the hotel proprietors’ son 100 some to look after the cars and clearly he had slept through the raid.   We should have known better and taken all the stuff inside with us, but c’est la vie.

We depart Osh early, at day break, as we had a 670 Kms drive to Bishkek which we are dreading as the car is very tired and far from being in good condition.   In addition to the charging problem the rear sump guard is hanging off, tyres still an issue, running rich and a rear bumper is loose.    However, we are running OK, unlike the Morgan which by this time has been loaded into a lorry for transporting to Bishkek.

We leave Osh with the Porsche having a clutch problem but Bernard has agreed to wait and see they are OK as we need to get started to make Bishkek before dark.   Without charging system we have no lights at all and cannot drive after dark.

The start out of Osh is fairly confused but we eventually get on a reasonable road to Bishkek and make some speed.   We have another high pass to transit towards the end of the run but before this we have a further three punctures, luckily slow ones that we check on the high plateau in a tiny village where there is a Vulcaniser.   He repairs the tyres but we lose and hour and the day is beginning to look tight if we are to beat sunset.

The car is running rich and leaving it on whilst we sorted the tyres to avoid having to bump start it was a mistake.   As we leave the village the engine is spluttering and lacking power, I think due to the spark plugs getting sooted up.   We press on in the hope they will clear themselves which eventually happens twenty minutes later.    The run is beginning to get to us, we are already tired and it is already 1600.   We start up the long pass to 15,000 feet with the weather deteriorating, light rain/snow and the temperature plunging.   By now the car is running a bit battered but we have to coach her up the long winding road to the pass.

Things gets worse when we are suddenly plunged into darkness in a long unlit tunnel.   I cannot see a thing and have to lean out to see past the windscreen which is covered in snow, to see where I am in relation to the solid wall on my right.   There is a car 30 metres in front which is getting away from me but at least he gives me some idea of the direction of curve of the tunnel.   Keeping 3 feet from the wall we press on with lorries and cars passing us to the left.   With no lights we run the risk of someone overtaking in the tunnel and hitting us head on.   Nothing we can do but push on at a fair speed to try and keep behind the car with lights.    What seems like hours later we suddenly emerge from the tunnel and start downhill.  David’s only comment ‘ that was tense ‘ !.

No snow this side but the road winds down the mountain for miles ahead.   On the third turn down we have another puncture just when we are beginning to think we are over the worse.   We change this just as Bernard arrives in the Landrover.   He tells us that the Porsche is broken and is also going on a truck to Bishkek with It’s clutch arm bent.   So we are the only car left !.    Back on the road and we head on down the hill to a petrol station at the bottom some 60 kilometres from Bishkek.   Having refuelled we drive off to join the Tashkent to Bishkek road along which I passed in 2000.  

Our arrival in Bishkek is faultless with the help of a taxi from the outskirts taking us into the Hyatt hotel near the presidential palace.    Thank heavens we are here and have a rest day to sort out all our car problems.   The Morgan is due in at 0400 along with the Porsche in a different lorry, no sign of the rally Landrover but we believe this also on the way.

What a week it has been !

The road to Afghanistan

The drive to Dushambe is late and in the dark, the Bentley's lights are pathetic and stuck up in the air but somehow we manage to get through and arrive at the Hyatt Regency, we could be in Hyde Park, it is amasing, a stunning hotel in this fairly small city. Several G&T's later, Sauteed Prawns, Huge Entrecot streak and a Creme Brulet, I begin to feel relaxed again after what has been a 12 hour day for David and I. Car is OK but we are on tenderhooks over the tyres as the next day we have the test of the rally although at this point we have no idea just how big an adventure that day will be.

After the feast we head off to bed looking forward to the next day, oh what a mistake that was.

Dawn breaks over Dushambe and from our hotel room window we can see parks, beautiful buildings, Government house and presumably the Presidential Palace all looking magnificent in the sun. We head off through the city looking for the road south and east to some unpronouncable place on the way to Khorob (pronounced Horob) where the first Afghanistan border is.

Well the first 200 kms is no real problem but we are climbing constantly towards 6000 feet, car goes well, no punctures but we suddenly come across the Morgan on the road side broken. We offer help and find that Phil and Lorrete are overheating, well the car that is !. Few ideas are thrown around before we sort out things and off we both go again. A mile later Morgan is stopped againg, we are use the last of our wate to replace what she has lost. The Yellow Peril arrives and offers a tow to the mountain top which is the last pass for the day. They couple up and we follow to the top.

Having all disengaged we head down hill, David and I take the obvious path ignoring an 'off' to the left, 1000 metres on the road ends in a 1000 foot drop to a gorge, an earthquake has taken out the bridge and if we don';t stop we will be Chitty Chitty Bang Bang !. Thank heavens the brakes work, we turn around and head back to the top and take the 'off' which takes us 3 miles around the valley head and back to the other side of the drop. We get to a police checkpoint who cheerily declare we will not get through, well specifically that the Morgan won't. With a feeling of dread we head off down the hill.

Suddenly the road ends and we are on a rough rocky track, no tarmac, no gravel, just bedrock. We keep going dropping 5000 feet to the Oxus River below, the scenary is beyond decripstion, I have put some photos on the blog site but nothing can describe the mountains and valleys we see as we drop to the river. We come to a corner around which we can see the river and Afghanistan on the far side, close enough to touch but with rapids that would defy a Grade 12 Rafter. Unbelieveable. The water is grey with silt brought down from the highest hills on earth, the Himalayas.

We drive on, no road just rock, people occasionally in tiny villages. Afghanistan rising from the other side. A track has been cut into the Afghan mountains some 50 metres above the water disappearing in both directions as far as the eye can see. On this path, people and donkeys walking for days, we are 200 kms from any town on our side, we see no towns on their side at all just tiny villages. The path is built up using stones, it is unbelievable. How long do they walk, how far do they walk. We drive 180 kms through streams, across wet and dry river beds, over promontories, never more than yards from the raging river below winding it's way down to the Aral Sea but never making it, syphoned off for cotton all along the way.

We are closer to the source in it's unspoilt region, just us, a few Tajiks, and the Afghans over the river. They call over, we whistle back, it is pehaps a 1000 metres, but insurmountable.

On on we drive, 16 kph, yes 10mph, rattle, bang, crash. the exhaust goes then gets knocked back on. The fuel guard snaps off, the dynamo ceased, but NO punctures. Mile after mile, Kilometre after kilometre we trudge on, the day passes and night falls, still no let up. The scenery is us, river, road, Afghan path and the sky, snow on the highest peaks, the world greatest rafting but no one here to sample it.

13 hours we drive to get half way along this road. We stop at a tiny village to get water, we have plenty of food and means to cook it, we are prepared for the worst but hoping for the best. As the sun drops below the mountains and 1836 approaches, sunset, we know we have until 1850 before all is black (Nautical Twilight you know !). We must be stopped by then there is no way we can drive at this speed on this track in the dark.

We hit the Badastan Autonomous Region border post at 1825, please let us through we need the last of the light to reach a village we can see maybe a mile ahead. The guards are watching satellite TV, miles from anywhere, using a generator, we ask where does the road start, the guard say 1 km ahead, we think he is talking rubbish but the village we plan to stop at is just beyond that so we must go on. Unbelieveable we hit smooth . perfect tarmac, within 1000 metres , would you believe it, thanks to the EU !!, our money working, thanks UK taxpayer !!.

We are off, 30, 40, 50 mph and it is as smooth as silk, can we make it to our homestay, 60 kms to go, nothing stopping us now, whow ! Bugger the lights on we go, spot light on and vaguely lighting the road, we will be fine providing we do not meet one of the hundreds of cows we have met all day standing in the road. (ask Arabs about meeting camel on a dark road at night, you will not find one that has done it !). We are off for 30 kms and trucking, then just to make our lives interesting the EU road finishes, stop !. No more road, back to track, but we are energised now, Homestay within 30 kms, just go for it, never mind we cannot see a thing, or that we have a fast flowing river on the right or that the road is non existent, or that the car is shaken to pieces, we are goiing to get there. David, '5 kilometre countdown please'.

30 mins later we crash metaphorically into the town of 'no idea' and reach the homestay. What an incredible drive, ghastly, terrible, unbelievable, extrordinary, what we came for !

We are covered in dust, I have filthy knees, arms, clothes, hair, face and feet, car is exhausted, we are tired but Bernard and Dina are there with a beer and a smile. We made it but where are the Yellow Peril and the Morgan, both were in front of us after the problems earlier. Suddenly the Yellow Peril arrives, it has been out for supper so no sweat but still no Morgan, we have lost it.

David is off for as shower , I get the cooking kit out, not risking Dheli Belly here so it's Chilli con Carne for supper with some sausage I have bought earlier in the day, bread from a shop nearby and my birthday present from David's wife, Yvonne, the Gentlemen's Relish. It is officially a feast when Chris and Liz bring out the Brandy and Vodka and we all sit down on the house balcony for dinner. What an end to one of the most amasing days of my rallying career, we are just exhausted but here !

The next day we are off to Khorog and Afghanistan.   Originally we were to drive into the Wakhan Valley and cross the border into Ishkasim, but yesterday's road has put paid to that as the road out of the Wakhan is worse !.   Instead we plan to get visas in Khorob and go into Afghanistan for a day there.






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Uzbekistan

Saturday 17th Sept - Apologies for the break in communications, this due to no internet in last week, I am now in Bishkek and will send three editions this weekend, this is the first. -

It has been an interesting few days, a combination of bad roads, flat tyres, dead battery and interesting places.

Bukhara appealed to most of the rally but not really to me, contrary as ever ! Most of the ruins have been rebuilt having been destroyed by floods and the Russians some years ago. Many have become tourist attractions with little residual feeling for the past. The rest are tourist traps selling ethnic souvenirs and other rubbish much admired by inexperienced travellers.

However, having signed up to a walking tour of the old city I lasted all of 10 minutes before pealing off for a mega massage and Turkish Bath in the old part of town. This involved sitting in a boiling cellar for some time followed by a very rough sanding down at the hands of a male masseur followed by a bath, massage and being covered in ginger !. Not a bad way to while away two hours in the heat of the day. I did meet some interesting Uzbek young who could speak good English and complained of being unable to get a job as they did not know any government officials and did not come from a select family. Bottom line, Russians may have left the country but the country has not got rid of Russia.

Interestingly I found it impossible to track down a tyre repair centre in Bukhara and eventually two local students jumped in the car and showed me the way to a small shop behind the street facade. It seems that to keep the city looking good the service shops are behind the main streets making them very hard to find. Only one puncture to fix but I am taking the opportunity to sand down the rough edges on the tyres to see if I can stop these annoying problems.

We had a couple of really good meals out in Bukhara and it is a lovely city at night to be in. We met a Spaniard, Jorge, who came over to say hello and ask about the Bentley, he has a 1936 Hooper version of my car and was really very knowledgable. It was only when we met up again in Samakand two days later that he showed me a table of his car collection, 40 cars including a Bugatti Veyron, a dozen Porsches, several Bugattis and MG's. What the hell was he doing on a coach trip to Bukhara ?

Our caravan moved onto Samakand, which is one of my all time favourite cities although this time I saw more of my car and parts bazaars than I did of it's attractions. Yes, you guess right two more punctures on the way, one after another almost marooning us on the main road. We were saved by the fact the punctures occurred 100 yards from a Vulcanamista who promptly fixed the tubes again for us.

However, I also had a problem with the passenger seat falling to bits, a dicky battery isolator switch and a duff battery. What a weekend, I spent a lot of it looking for parts, the only bright spot being 'jumped' in a queue of 40 cars waiting for petrol by the garage owners three stunning blond teenagers !. Made my day never mind got the car filled up quick, big issue in Uzbekistan is benzine (Petrol), no idea why as it is not expensive but gas and diesel seem more popular these days.

The police are a pain in this country, we are stopped endlessly, mainly for a photo of the car but occasionally in an attempt to extract money from us. However, the Uzbeks are very friendly and once again our difficulties were lightened by genuinely helpful people.

We finally head for the border with Tajikistan and the capital Dushambe pronouced De Shan Be. They are arguing with the Uzbeks so have shut the closest border and forced us to divert 300 kms to the south to a secondary border. This is a major headache as this is the day the inner tube saga reaches crisis level, three punctures in 200 kms. However we are ready for them and as each one comes off I give it a damn good filing to remove all the rough surfaces. I won't bore you with the details but we seem to have established in our own minds what is going wrong and are hopeful the problems will recede in the coming days, only time will tell.

However, we are once again marooned with no spares in a desert which would not have been good except for a good samaritan who stopped, picked up the tyres and me and took us back the way he had come. With his whole family we wait an hour at a small tyre shop whilst the tubes were vulcanised and I filed off more sharp edges. Gave him 20 bucks and he was over the moon. Interestingly they do not drive with the engine on all the time, he would accelerate to 100 kph and then freewheeel down to 30 before repeating the process, I would really love to know how much that improved petrol consumption. Of course many modern English cars do this automatically or stop the engine at the lights however seems the Uzbelks are way ahead of us on this one.

We finally reach the border after numerous police checks and passport registrations to be met with a morass of burocracy, first to leave Uzbekistan and then to enter Tajikistan. On top of which I have the group visa so there are 3 cars and 6 very bored people waiting for us to arrive ! Lucky for them we were not left in the desert for a lot longer !

I have to say that from a scenary point of view Uzbekistan had very little to offer and we did not take many interesting photos outside the two cities. Bye bye Uzbekistan, hello Tajikistan, 93% mountains, 7% flat !

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Across the Garagum Desert - Turkmenistan

Following our much enjoyed rest stop in Mashad we are up with the lark to drive the 200 kms to the border in the mountains between Iran and Turkmenistan. These mountains are a natural barrier between Iran and the north and appear fairly impenetrable for an army which is probably why both countries have had stable borders for years.

Exiting Iran takes a lot longer than getting in and we spend most of the day at the border clearing into Turkmenistan just before it closes at 1800. The Turkmans have taken bureaucracy to a new level, there are form upon form to complete all with a cost for which there is of course, a receipt. Some 200 dollars poorer and carrying a sheaf of official papers, receipts, insurance documents and the like we are finally allowed through once everyone has had their photo taken in the Bentley.

Our first sight of Ashkabad reminds us of just how gilded this city is, gold statues everywhere although the one of Turkmenbashi which has him rotating with the sun has been pulled down in the couple of years since he died. Apparantly it is being relocated to the 'hills'. So much for the 'beloved leader' of the Turkmans. However, the new president is having his own palace built so he does not have to use the old presidents !. Along with this every building is magnificent, if empty, and the billions spent on the trophy capital is beyond comprehention.

Having got totally lost in the new construction of yet another massive complex we finally arrive at the hotel, which in itself is extraordinary. It reminds me of the Versace hotel in Labrador on the Australian Gold Coast although the latter is a poor reproduction in reality. It is enormous, all marble and gold and looks as though it would cost a fortune to stay in. However it is run by Sofitel and is in fact quite cheap for a room. The same cannot be said of drinks, a beer was over 20 USD !, A bottle of wine at supper 100 USD but worth it for the view from the top floor restuarant.

Early departure to travel to Mary or Merv as it was called in the time of the Great Game. This was one of the cities the Russians invaded and captured with a view to launching an attack on the British through Afghanistan. Mary is very ordinary but does have a small bling area as in Ashkabad but much smaller. For us it is notable only for the fact we met three cyclists there, a German and Frenchman cycling to Singapore and a young Scottish lad, Roibbie, cycling around the world with his guitar and a small cycle trailer. How these people motivate themselves to ride evrytday at 20 km/hour for endless miles is totally beyond us but they are true heroes.

Robbie had been knocked off his bike by a tractor this day on the appalling road from Ashkabad on which we had spent all day bouncing, bumping, grinding and swearing at it. The lad wants to give up and backpack as the accident broke his handlebars and more importantly his guitar. Coupled to this the day before he had slept in a Mosque and someone had stolen his size 12 1/2 shoes, heavens knows why as there is no one out here with feet that big. Hopefully we persuaded him to rest and think on things for a day or two before abandoning bike and trailer.

As I mentioned the road was atrocious and is definately top of the worse road league thus far.

Our stay in Turkmenistan is almost at an end, from Mary we cross the Garagum Desert to the North to pass over the Bailey bridge ond on into Uzbekistan south of Bukhara.

The road is much better thank heavens although we have a very severe incident about half way when I more or less lost control of the car as we crossed some corrugations at speed and the steering couldn't cope with the front wheels bouncing so much. Pretty scary sluing across the road out of control. Luckily no other cars on the road at the time.

Anyweay we press on past camels, sand, sand and more sand until we reach Turkmenibad in the north of the country. From here we cross over a tributary of the the Oxus on the same bailey bridge we used in 2000, nothing changed except the toll which is now 14 USD. Guess there are not enough cars and lorries over 11 years to pay for a proper bridge !

It is a very strange approach to the Uzbek border, miles from anywhere and we arrive 1 minute after they have shut for lunch at 1230. So sweltering heat 44 Celsius in the queue whilst we wait for the border to re-open. The Bentley is swamped and David and I give up trying to stop people crawling all over it. However the people are really just enthusiastic and not of any threat to the vehicle at least not intentionally.

Finally the border re-opens at 1400 and we spend three hours clearing out and then into Uzbekistan, We then speed the 90 kms to Bukhara on a pretty good road and into the bar to drain the hotel of beer before supper. The hottest day so far and 12 hours in the sun gives one a big thirst, huge even. By midnight we have added several bottles of Uzbek white wine, not bad considering, and several Uzbek Cognacs, also not bad but the cause of a violent hangover the next morning !

So here we are in Bukhara, what a fantastic place toi visit, more on Uzbekistan shortly. I am still unable to upload photos so for now this is all you are getting, the inteligent stuff just like the Economist, no colour pictures !



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Iran

By the time this edition is published we will have left Iran which is probably just as well!

Well first one has to say what an amazingly friendly and tolerant people the Iranians are. Friendly as we have been helped by all sorts of people to find our hotel, change a tyre, replace an inner tube etc. Everyone is happy to help and it is quite extraodinary the generosity of these people. Tolerent as they have to put up with a load of intolerant moody Mullahs who quite frankly have stiffled this country's development and wasted money on atom bombs and ever bigger Mosques. It is not surprising that the average Iranian wants change - 4 channels of Mullahs dictating on TV all day, No extramarital sex and only your mates to talk to !. If the last election was trouble the next will be dynamite. As we noticed in 2005, girls play lip service to the dress code and we hardly seen a full blown bat since we arrived here.

It is a little sad to note the speed with which Turkey is developing and the complete lack of change here. Outside the cities the villages still consist of mudhuts and ramshackle brick buildings, the roads are like Turkey's were 10 years ago and the only sign of wealth is in the Mosques and a few tall buildings.

However, back to the people, they are clearly warming to the idea of change and we can only hope they get their way this time - not many of the younger generation can see the Mullahs as an improvement on the Shah.

We left Tabriz for the long drive to Tehran, some 680 kms, this was not a very exciting day although we did manage to have another issue with the same rear wheel going flat on us. This time we managed to change it fairly quickly on the side of the motorway but not before an Iranian family had stopped and brought over a bucket of fruit for us to eat whilst we changed the wheel. Can you concieve of that happening in the UK or even in Europe, I think not. Just amazing.

We arrived in Tehran late afternoon to be met with a massive amount of holiday traffic fleeing the city for Ede. We had met up with the Landrover and Porsche, the former having our Iranian guide on board and this made locating the hotel in this huge city very straightforward. I then headed off with the guide to get the inner tube replaced whilst David recce'd the hotel.

The following day we were out earlyish to drive to some dump in the middle of nowhere near the Caspian Sea called Minudasht. The road was hideous, full of holiday traffic going over the mountain pass to the North which rises to 7,000 feet and in sight of several mountains with snow on them. They must be high as the ground temperature at 7,000 feet was 35 degrees. The route was very pretty but laborious and after we got lost in Sari, David and I had had enough of the drive. We did develop a number of new definitions however in regard to Burkas -

A car full of Burkas - Batmobile (Bit obvious I know).
Fruit Bats - Young Iranian girls with lots of boys hanging round them.
Vampire Bats - Older ugly women who look as though they wouyld bite.
Ding Bats - Bats with money.
Bling Bats - Bats dripping with gold.

and finally a definition for a group of Mullahs. (Seen by Chris Grieves in a car called a 'Pride') hence - a Pride of Mullahs.

Yet to find the definition of a Brick Bat ! any thoughts ?

So, as you can see a riveting days driving to arrive in a dump of a hotel where water ran straight through the sinks onto the floor.

Did manage to get hold of a can of beans for the next day but supper was horrid.

We could not leave Minudasht quick enough and neither David nor I had a shower or a shave before departing at 0630 for Mashad and our first rest day. We drove the Northern route, close to the Turkmenistan border and through the Goleston National Park. Many Iranians from Tehran and Mashad come to this high park and camp on the side of the road in huge groups. Not sure why they do not venture off the road but they seem happy anyway. Passing through that early in the morning we see many starnge sights including dozens of tiny tents with huge families in them, trucks with two pairs of feet sticking out off the flatbed and even a few couples entwined on the road in blankjets.

However, the drive is the easiest and fastest we have had in Iran and we arrive in Mashad at lunch time without any stress at all. In fact we stopped in the mountains and brewed up for breakfast consuming our tin of beans along with tea and coffee. By the time we have finished breakfast whilst watching a family denude a tree of Walnuts we have several vilagers and a tractor alongside us watching these strange people in an old Bentley.

We stay at a really good hotel in Mashad called the Homa, it is Friday and the place is heaving with slightly better off Iranians having the Sunday buffet. This is the first decent food we have had in several days and we tuck in to an enormous helping of soup, salad, Beef Stroganof and Creme Caramel. So much so we have to have a siesta after lunch and before we go looking for petrol and somewhere to change oil the next day. Petrol is hard to come by in Iran and every petrol station has a large queue waiting to buy their ration. Diesel is even more difficult as many lorries out here are either petrol of CNG (Compressed Natural Gas). the latter is becoming ever more popular as Iran has plenty of gas. We think the reason that petrol is an issue is that they do not have the refining capacity to produce a surplus of petrol. they also import all lube oil presumably for the same reason. Anyway we have always managed to find petrol and Mashad was no exception.

Our first rest day is most welcome and I plan to carry out a full service of the Bentley that has now gone 4,000 miles since leaving home. David is in charge of sight seeing and disappears off with one of my cameras to document our stop in Mashad. I however, drive off to an small unit where the owner has a pit and lots of oil. He does not speak a word of english but with the help of my 'Point It' book we manage to change the engine oil and find oil to top up the gear box, overdrive, rear axle and shock apsorbers along with a full inspection of the underside of the car. all looks good as far as I can see.

Next it is two doors along to a tyre shop where I am surrounded by local kids who all want to sit in the car and have their photo taken. Many people stop to take photos and I have to juggle taking off wheels with keeping an eye on the car. After many emails Richards bros and I have come to the conclusion that the Dunlop tyres have some rough edges on one side caused by their mold. The solution is to take all the tubes out, remove the tires and sand down the offending rough edges. This is a big job and takes two lads and myself two hours to get them apart, sand, talc and reassemble however I have some confidence that this may solve our ongoing problem with the tubes failing.

A much bigger problem has arisen over the last week in that it is clear we do not have enough tread on the tyres to make Calcutta, in fact I think anywhere south of central China will be a problem. I have therefore instigated the help of Chris Simons and my crew at Ecoflow to come up with a way of getting 4 Tyres to Bishkek in Khyrgystan. We are going to try couriering them there either to the Hyatt hotel GM or the British Embassy. However, successive rallies have shown that consignments usually get lost in customs and rarely does the driver take delivery before he is forced to move on.

However we have to give it a go before executing the fall back plan which is to get one of my mates to fly to Beijing and then Kashgar with 4 more tyres as hold baggage. We should know in about a week if UPS is going to work for us or not. More on this developing saga later.

After the tyre place it is on to a car wash with the help of a 12ish year old Iranian boy riding shotgun. The carwash people are brilliant, not only do they clean the car inside and out vigorously, but the also insist I take tea with them, in fact several, and a Hookie full of orange tobacco, (complete with a hideous health warning on the packet showing what my lungs are likely to look like !) judging by my light head could be wacky backy ! Finally I decline an invitation for lunch with them and after all this they refuse point balnk to be paid fopr the wash which has taken two hours. Just another example of the amazing generosity of these people.

I meet a very well spoken girl (definately a Fruit Bat) who has a BA in English Literature and asks me what my religion is before going on to ask what I thought about Muslims. Ever the diplomat I assured her I loved Muslims and Iran. When she asked why Britain hates Iran I tried to explain that it was more our government hating their government than anything else. Most Britains know nothing of iran or it's people and would be amazed at what a lovely bunch you are. (Cubbon you would have been proud of me !)

Then I met a lady who had been persecuted for the demonstartions last year and she plus husband are being allowed to leave Iran for the USA presumably to get them out of the Mullahs hair. It must be very difficult to be a woman here, you have to see it to believe it.

So, Iran has been fantastic as in 2005 thanks to the generosity and friendliness of the people. We leave tomorrow for Turkmenistan and beyond, once again with fond memories and deep seated concern for the future of the people here.

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