{Mongolian Flag} Mongolia

August 2008

Day 25 – Tuesday August 5th (continued)

We followed a couple of cars along a dusty track through no man’s land for a few miles and came to the new border building in the middle of nowhere with a small nomadic hamlet nearby. A woman official in an kiosk asked us for 10 Roubles (21p) for whatever reason. Fortunately, I had kept a few back.

We had all our vehicle registration documentation prepared in advance by the organisers and just had to point to our names on a list and hand over our vehicle documents. We also had to purchase motor insurance for £14. Once we had our passports stamped, customs seemed uninterested in our cargo. There were a couple of money changers who asked to change money. They wanted Euros. When we told them we only had US Dollars they walked off uninterested too. I’ve never seen US Dollars do that to someone at a border.

It was early afternoon by the time we got away from the border. It was our final border with the Disco and a relief to get in. We had chosen this border to allow us to cross Mongolia west to east and had the vehicle to cope with the terrain. Other teams were forced to cross Russia and enter Mongolia from the northern border with a short sealed road to the capital.

A day after entering Mongolia, we learnt by text that Mongolian immigration had closed the northern border to cars from both events unless they paid a hefty $3000 import tax on their vehicle. 40 vehicles were dumped there - mostly by the Mongol Rally teams whose cars weren’t even worth $3000. Hearing this, we felt that luck was finally on our side and that we might finally finish this trip.

This was my second visit to Mongolia and my original visit has all the background on the country. You can read this at Previous Trip to Mongolia I will reuse some of the background in this account.

Mongolia calls itself “Land of the Blue Sky”. It “has always stirred up visions of the exotic; Genghis Khan, camels wandering the Gobi desert and wild horses galloping across the Steppes” (LP). Even today, Mongolia, like Tibet, seems like the end of the world. Crushed between Russia and China, it has managed to remain an autonomous country and is now free, democratic and very dusty. The collapse of the Russian empire in the early 90s, removed most of its financial support and it is broke. It “remains one of the last unspoilt travel destinations in Asia” (LP). With which, I would definitely concur.

Brief History; Mongolia has a glorious past (looking at it now, I wonder how it ever had one). Genghis (Chenggis) Khan was a young king in the 13th Century who united the warring clans and gave Mongolia a sense of direction. Well, it turned out to be every direction. He launched his cavalry against China and Russia (“come on, if you think you’re hard enough” was his battlecry, er, Not!) and by his death in 1227 he had kicked ass from Beijing to the Caspian Sea. His son, Odedei, continued the military conquest as far west as Hungary. They would have gone further, but he died (as you do) and Mongolian tradition dictated that all noble descendants of Genghis, return to Mongolia to elect a new king (bugger!).

Khan’s grandson, Kublai (1216 to 1294) took over the reins (ho ho), completed the invasion of China, and started to take on the Egyptians, Indonesians and Japanese. The Tasmanian Devils of humanity, they were some bad ass mothers. If a city surrendered, they left it alone. Any city that attempted to defend themselves, got wiped out, Big Time. There are tales of hundreds of thousands of decapitations, just to make sure they got the, er, point. I have heard it said that if you rode hundreds of miles for days on a horse and a hard saddle, you’d want to kill something too.

At its zenith, the Mongolian empire stretched from Korea to Hungary and as far south as Vietnam, making it the largest empire the world has ever known. By the 1350s, their rule began to disintegrate and they have been shrinking ever since. The Chinese took over in the 17th Century for 300 years.

Mongolia is a huge landlocked country, about 3x size of France, and 2x Texas. It was double that until the Chinese snatched half of it in the 20th Century (Inner Mongolia). It has desert, desert steppe, mountains and forests. The average elevation is around 1580m with the highest peak at 4374m. It is so far inland that there is no effect from the oceans. Zero humidity. And very dry. Hence the dust. The southern third is dominated by the Gobi Desert. Much of the country is covered in sparse grasslands which support the millions of livestock.

They call themselves “the people of five animals”; 3m horses (smaller than western breeds), cattle (yaks), sheep, goats and camels. Half of Mongolia’s 2.3m population (1.4 per sq km!) lives on the land, raising livestock and many are still nomadic. Sheep are the most important stock and mutton is the national diet. Less than 1% of the land is under (wheat) cultivation. Timber, coal and copper mining and cashmere wool make up the rest of the GDP. Buddhism is the major religion. “The Mongolian way of life is laid back, patient, tolerant of hardship and intimately connected with the ways of animals” (LP). I’d also agree with that statement.

We stopped to change the front tyres with our two off-road tyres. The steering improved and the tyres could cope with any surfaces. The scenery was spectacular. Huge skies full of huge fluffy clouds that hung over the endless rolling brown hills. Eagles stood by the side of the road or soared on thermals above. The trails were dusty affairs with small rocks. Shepherds herded goats or ponies sat on small ponies. Occasional lakes appeared to break up the dry terrain.

We were surprised when a sealed road appeared which took us to the first major town of Olgii. The lovely new road still had cows standing in the middle of it. Olgii lies at an elevation of 1710m. It is the capital of the Bayan-Olgii Aimag and seemed to have as many Kazahzstan people there as Mongolians. We were only interested in getting some Mongolian currency and getting out. I found a bank which turned out to be a farmers’ bank with no real security. A man walked up and asked if I wanted to change money. In basic English, he told me that he could change the money. I was told to get in his car and Trev was to follow. He drove around the streets, telling me he was a policeman. At first, I thought he was trying to nick me for changing money illegally, but he was just making conversation.

Pulling up outside a shop he ran in. He had left his car keys with me as a guarantee that he wouldn’t run off with the $100. After a couple of minutes, I walked in. He was buying a large bottle of vodka with his commission. I got my Mongolian notes and he got his car keys. We made a rapid exit from this town and followed a sealed road for a few miles before it turned to sand.

Our next destination was Khovd, but it was slow going over the rough terrain and there was no way we would reach it in daylight. Trev had been wanted to camp for ages, so we agreed that when we found a suitable place by a lake, we would pull up for the night plenty of time before darkness fell.

Around 6pm, we found a small glacial lake, with a few humps where we could park the Disco out of sight, away from the road. We pitched our one-man tents, just before a short shower fell. I went for a wash in the lake. It was brain-splittingly cold when I ducked my head under. A beautiful rainbow appeared over the lake. We cooked up a meal on the stove and tried to get warm in our tents. The night was freezing and the wind roared across the barren landscape. At least the infrequent traffic stopped shortly after darkness fell. You wouldn’t want to drive around this isolated area without a good idea where the trail led.

Just to repeat because today’s distances were joined together with the previous 24 hours leaving Kazakhstan and crossing Russia before doing a few hours inside Mongolia.

Today, Trev drove 566 miles (5085 total) and I did 407 (3246 total) = 973 for the daily total = 8248 miles after 25 days.

Day 26 – Wednesday August 6th

Early the next morning, it was cold enough to remove the bollocks off a brass monkey and the tents and equipment were covered in de-frosted frost. Trev found it difficult to leave his snug sleeping bag to face 3'C. Mine was thinner and I had worn my clothes all night so I had nothing to lose. It seemed amazing that a week ago we had been roasting in 47’C temperatures.

While I brewed some industrial strength coffee, a local nomad who lived behind a nearby hill, spotted our vehicle and came over to have a look. He couldn’t speak English and just squatted, watching me pottering around. He looked frozen as well, so I passed him a cup of hot milky coffee which he sipped slowly. When Trev was doing the usual checks of the engine under the bonnet, the shepherd peered over his shoulder. Then he was gone. I’m not sure if he was looking for a hot meal or a shot of vodka to warm him up, but we had neither and we needed to get going.

The glorious blue skies were clear of cloud and the snow gleamed off the surrounding peaks. The twisty unmarked trail finally gave way to a straight stony surface with plastic beacons on either side of the road. This looked rather strange in the middle of nowhere with no civilisation in sight.

At 11am, Khovd finally appeared laying near the fast-flowing Buyant Gol river. With a population of 35,000 it is the major industrial centre of Western Mongolia surviving on providing support to the local agricultural economy and other minor industries.

We found a garage (well a set of pumps) and filled up. In Mongolia, you never know where you will find fuel so we took no chances and made sure we were full whenever possible. This strategy would pay off tomorrow – though we didn’t know this yet. The petrol pump had a Visa card sticker on it. I was surprised and thought I’d double check with the female attendant. Yes, they took Visa. Well, theoretically, because she had never actually dealt with one before. She had to dig out the portable credit card machine from a cupboard and then read the instructions on how to use it. Meanwhile, half a dozen impatient Mongolian drivers were trying to attract her attention and either get served or pay. I indicated that she should go and told Trev that I would look for a bank to change money – either that or we could be stuck here forever.

Asking a local, they pointed to a building within eyesight of the forecourt. I entered the empty bank with minimal security measures. There was no glass or cameras, just a wooden counter, two females and one male. I seemed to have interrupted some flirting on the job. The latest US Dollar exchange was hung on a wall. I handed over $100 worth of US Dollar Bills.

The man then turned around and took down a portable counterfeit currency device from a shelf and plugged it in and then commenced to sit on the floor and feed in all my US Dollars. Well this was different – not something you see in the UK. Fortunately, they all passed the test and I was rewarded with the Mongolian equivalent. Back at the garage, I passed over local currency to a rather relieved attendant. And that was our experience of Khovd.

We estimated that we had a 500km drive to the next major town called Altay. En route, the map indicated that we would only pass three minor settlements – Mankha (nicknamed ‘Manky’ by us), Zereg and Darvi. The problem with Mongolia is that you are never exactly sure what constitutes a settlement. Is it a collection of Gers (tents) or is it a line of wooden shacks on either side of the track, where truckers stop for food and drink? I don’t know, but since I have no photos of any of these places, I have to assume that it was either of these alternatives. We probably passed through quite a few, but since there was never a sign suggesting a name, we just kept going.

My photos of the day reveal wonderful empty blue skies with eroded brown, un-vegetated hills. On stony steppe lands in-between the hills were huge herds of goats spread out and kept in check by shepherds on horse back, and smaller herds of horses and camels. They were all searching for food and it was pretty sparse in this landscape. They must cover miles every day just to find enough greenery in-between the rocks.

We came across a recent tombstone that had a driver’s wheel painted in red , attached to the rock. The dead person had died aged 21 years old, probably a minibus driver who crossed the vast distances between the major settlements.

At a river, we crossed a rickety wooden bridge. It was difficult to know if it would take our weight, but it did and it probably takes a lot more. The ‘road’ was just a sandy trail carved out from the surrounding grasslands that had replaced the rocky landscapes. We passed collections of white round gers and assumed they were nomadic people with livestock living on the lush grass during the summer months.

We passed the occasional ovoo (see previous Mongolian account) and then the grasslands gave way to a dusty trail virtually indistinguishable from the surrounding flat lands. It was just barren flat lands in a wide valley between hills that lay further away on either side. Herds of goats could still find enough to live on and block our way on a short concrete bridge (luxury!).

In the late afternoon, billowing clouds filled the sky and looked equally spectacular. Grasslands returned. We had no idea of where we were or of our progress. A huge herd of goats appeared on the horizon. We spotted the shepherd by the side of the road. He gave us a sign to stop. He could speak no English, but like this morning’s shepherd was just inquisitive. He peered inside the Disco. I took a photo of him on my digital camera and showed him. He was ecstatic and asked to take a photo himself. So we gave him the camera and told him to shoot away, showing him the results. It was a nice 10 minute break where we felt we were communicating with the locals.

It was different from my previous trip whereby I had a Mongolian to make introductions and try and translate. This time it was meeting locals where neither side could communicate except with body language.

Later on, our dusty dry trail was riddled with large puddles. We had obviously missed a recent downpour so heavy that the land could not absorb the rain. The windscreen was splattered with water/red dust. The hills had disappeared and the landscape was completely flat.

We caught up with the black clouds which changed the colours and shades of the next range of hills that appeared. It was a race against the dusk and by the time we reached Altai after 6pm, the black clouds overhead looked both spectacular and ominous. The landscape with the sunlight on it looked golden, but up above was a black blue-ish cauldron of turbulence.

After our previous frozen night, I was hoping that there would be a basic hotel at Altai. With a population of around 17,000 and lying at an elevation of over 2000m, it is nestled between mountain ranges of up to 3600m. It is the capital of the Gov-Altai aimag – essentially the start of the Gobi desert and one of the least suitable areas for raising livestock. Our planned stop was the Altai Hotel but a row of Swiss motorbikes outside put that idea out of the question. The small hotel was fully booked. We spent an hour attempting to chase down a few other local suggestions but nothing was available.

We decided to try and find the trail out of town heading towards Bayankhongor but it was nearly dark by the time we left. Pulling in, we parked away from the road and cooked a quick meal on a stove. After last night’s temperatures, we decided to just sleep in the Land Rover. This would our third night without a decent wash. We would do whatever it took to get to Ulan Bator by Friday.

Today, Trev drove 329 miles (5414 total) and I did 83 (3329 total) = 412 for the daily total = 8660 miles after 26 days.

Day 27 – Thursday August 7th

It wasn’t as cold this morning, but no one likes to sleep upright in a Land Rover all night. Trev disappeared with his spade ‘Duggie’ for his morning movements and I rounded up all the gear we had abandoned outside in the darkness.

Last night, as we left town, we had seen a confusing sign which had Bayankhongor on it amongst a maze of turn offs. It looked as if we should take the second turn off to the left. But when we set off, there were no turn-offs anywhere.

We passed through a series of low lying hills and a maze of tracks. There was no indication of which was the main route and more importantly, no traffic coming the other way, however infrequent, which was always a good indication of which track to take.

In the end, we followed our nose. Our basic map of Mongolia indicated that if we were wrong, we would pass through a settlement called Mandal within 50km. At least we would know soon enough if we were on the wrong road.

We reached a settlement of a few wooden houses and asking a local, it was the place we didn’t want to be in. When we showed the map and indicated Bayankhongor, he indicated that we could make our way across country and eventually meet up with the road we had been looking for. It was either that, or re-trace our route, but we would still be none the wiser where the main route was.

So we looked at our compasses and steered south east. It was a strange feeling to be following faint track-lines which indicated that some people used this route but not enough to make it a decent sandy route. Our three compasses all disagreed with each other so we took a compromised directional route.

Eventually, we saw a river which we could see on our map. To follow our south eastern route, we had to cross it somewhere but there was no obvious crossing. We could see ger tents on the other side but not how to reach them. We followed a decent trail along the shallow river valley that then skirted the low lying cliffs and shingle sandbanks. It turned into a quagmire, but we pulled through only to find that the cliffs and river converged. It was a dead end and there was no way we would be able to ford this fast flowing river.

We were rather frustrated because we had been driving for almost 3 hours since leaving this morning and we were way off track. Now we had to retrace the river valley and it was very slow going.

Once we had re-tackled all the quagmire and returned to the grasslands, we had the next choice – retrace our route or try another route. As we looked to our right, we could see grasslands leading up to small hills where there seemed a route through, so we headed up the slope. What we couldn’t see were all the seasonal dry river beds that lay below the surface. But we gave it our best shot. The dry river beds got steeper to cross. I ended up getting out to search for the best route. Trev negotiated half a dozen river beds and then we came across a killer. Trev switched to 4-wheel drive to tackle a steep sided edge. He floored it and the wheels spun. I thought he had cracked it and then the Disco went backwards and lodged itself into the sand. We were only half way up the slope and this was a indication that it could only get worse.

A quick discussion concluded that this was a route that we would not cross. So we turned around and re-crossed all the previous dry river beds back down to the flat valley route. We lost another 30 minutes and returned to our original route. Our biggest concern was that while we had plenty of fuel, if we got stuck, there was no-one to get us out of trouble if we got stuck. We hadn’t seen another vehicle today. It wasn’t as if we call the AA to rescue us. When you are finding dead horse skulls, you know you are on the wrong route.

So we retraced the river valley route, headed back on a track and took another gamble. A path led through a tight series of low lying hills. It looked like it would end in a dead end. There were no track marks. By now, we were willing to try anything. Much to our surprise, the narrow pathway led us through to grasslands and we just drove over the grass in a SE direction. A line of telegraph poles appeared. This was a sign that civilisation lay somewhere down the line.

We followed the telegraph poles, weaving around them, following sandy tracks carved out of the grass. Result. We skirted around the hills to our left and just followed the poles. Once we reached the next settlement, we could get our bearings.

I don’t know what the settlement was called, but it was permanent. There was a collection of one storey wooden houses and a school. We saw a communal minibus (a “machine”) and asked the driver for Bayankhongor. He tried to explain something but we obviously didn’t understand. I pulled out the map and tried to find out where we were. What he was trying to say was that we could follow his minibus north east up to a track that would take us back down to the main track heading for Bayankhongor.

It seemed like a long detour and having followed our noses this far, I pointed out the track we were looking for and indicated ‘Which Direction?’ He pointed beyond the village and drew a map in the sand. We had to follow water heading south. We left the village thinking where the hell is there water around here, but we found a man made irrigation channel with trees on either side. A track lay parallel to it. It was strange to come across a little oasis in the middle of nowhere.

We followed the track and just headed south. Eventually, we came to a well worn track and another settlement. Not sure where to go next, we asked a local woman who pointed east. The problem was that there were multiple tracks all weaving in different directions. We saw another vehicle heading in the same direction but on a different track. Should we cross over the other tracks and follow him? How do we know he is heading east and not just returning to his Ger? In the end, we just followed our compass and tried to follow any track heading east.

Entering the Gobi Desert, we had no reference points. It was a flat, barren, sandy landscape, with a maze of tracks to choose from. At some points there were a dozen trails all criss crossing each other heading in various directions. It was just a guessing game. We had no idea where we were. We just knew we had a good supply of diesel to take a chance and just trust our instincts.

Hours later, having travelled across the monotonous but glorious landscape, we came across a wide river. I was driving. There was no bridge. We would have to ford it. It looked shallow enough (half a metre deep?) but was fast flowing. Looking north, we were amazed to see three western vehicles. There were a couple of mini-jeeps and a car. They were obviously on either of the two rally events.

We crossed the river, drove past a collection of Ger tents and saw the three vehicles ahead of us throwing up long trails of dust. They must be heading for Bayankhongor. I put my foot down and gradually we caught them one by one. We had a superior vehicle with excellent ground clearance. Despite being covered in dust, we spotted the ‘Mongolia Rally’ stickers on the doors, just like ours.

Powering past, we eventually came across a fork in the trail. A nomadic family had pulled up their packed truck and support vehicle and were resting. I asked for Bayankhongor and they pointed at one of the tracks. A couple of the Rally vehicles pulled up and we exchanged introductions. It turned out that the car, driven by a Czech competitor, had lost its suspension. The other two were baby sitting him to the finish, however long it took. We told them we had to be in UB by tomorrow. “No wonder you are driving at that rate. I don’t know if you will make it” was one reply. They told us they had a GPS if we wanted to join the convoy.

Remarkably, at this point we had been driving for over 9 hours with no clue to where we were. There was no bright sun in the sky to use as a bearing and we were sure our compasses were not working properly. Imagine driving for 9 hours not sure if you are on the right route. Now, at least we knew we were on the right track (sort of – the zigzagging continued).

We bade farewell, and motored on. The tracks gradually became a major dusty track following telegraph poles. Then a range of low-lying mountains appeared. Using our map, we knew where Bayankhongor lay – at the other end.

Bayankhongor appeared. Designed on a grid system, it had western type garages and most importantly, it had a hotel with letters spelling ‘Hotel’ on the roof along with the name ‘Negdelchin’ in Mongolian. There was a double room available on the top/third floor. Trev had to take the machine to ‘secure parking’ at the back. As we entered the town, we were stopped by a police car to check our documents. He pointed at the hotel down the road.

Once in the room, we took photos of what we looked like. The last hotel room we had use was in Pavlodar, Kazahzstan. Since then, we had driven all day and all night across Russia and Mongolia. We had spent a night in a tent, then driven a long day to finally sleep in the Disco. Then we had done another long day across the Gobi Desert. Suffice to say, we were covered in dirt and dust. No matter. There was a spacious room with a basic hot shower, and a window shelf for us to heat some food. Outside, a dozen dogs howled at the moon. It was luxury to have a night in a bed.

As dusk fell, while I was unloading the Disco, I saw the convoy of Mongolian Rally vehicles drive past. They didn’t spot us. They had told us that they were going to camp outside the town. Good luck to them. They were driving down the wrong road if they wanted to get out of town! We never saw them again.

Today, Trev drove 179 miles (5593 total) and I did 113 (3442 total) = 292 for the daily total = 8952 miles after 27 days.

Day 28 – Friday August 8th

After an excellent night’s sleep, fuelled by the remainder of our cheap French wine, we got up around 7am and packed. Next to our vehicle was a small mini-van with stickers to indicate he was on the ‘Mongol Rally’ event. We exchanged stories while Trev did the morning checks. Our flight out of Mongolia was leaving at midnight on Saturday – we had 42 hours left in Mongolia and 400 miles to reach Ulan Bator.

Bayankhongor had a population of 23,000 and lay at 1859m. It was the capital of the Bayanknongor Aimag but had only been around since 1942. There were several nearby peaks of over 3000m and the Northern Gobi Desert was also in the neighbourhood. Not that we had time to explore.

The ‘Lonely Person’s’ Guide said that it was 200km rough road to Arvaikheer and from there “you can travel quickly along the 430km paved road between Ulan Bator and Arvaikheer. So we assumed that we would get to UB sometime today and that the last part would be a doddle.

20km outside Bayankhongor, there was a paved road appearing out of nowhere, but the potholes began to appear… one here, one there. Then they got larger and more frequent until we eventually came to one that nearly spread across the entire road. There were huge herds of horses and goats to look at. I left my gnome at a Buddhist shrine somewhere along this road. That should freak out the locals.

We were back to the dusty trails that cut through the green desert vegetation with lines of low lying hills to our left. A herd of goats crossed in front of us, driven on by a small child on a horse.

An impressive range of brown mountains appeared on the horizon. The trail was being resurfaced with gravel. We would pass occasional hamlets which were really just food stops for trucks and minibuses – either in wooden huts or ger tents.

We skirted around the mountains and the landscape flattened out again. The sandy tracks were a maze of directions again and even rutted in parts from the trucks. There was hardly any traffic on this stretch. It was back to following our nose and trying to guess which the most likely route was. Herds of camels appeared, all with two humps. Then huge herds of sheep. We were getting the full selection of Mongolian wildlife today.

A surfaced road appeared and we entered Arvaikheer. It was the most western looking town we had seen so far. We pulled in, found a bank and used the ATM machine outside to replenish our cash. The Lonely Person’s Guide wrote off the place as boring, but after you have been driving across desolate scenery for days, just finding a town with decent roads, proper administration buildings and banks, ATMs, statues etc was wonderful. We felt that the worst was over.

Assuming that it would be a nice surfaced road all the way to UB and that garages would become more frequent as we approached the capital, we decided to take a chance on our diesel stocks. After all, if we were handing over the vehicle tomorrow, there was no point having a half-full tank of fuel.

As expected, the road leaving Arvaikeer was excellent. We had both previously had a spell of what we assumed would be our last dusty roads. Now I was back behind the wheel and making the most of the tarmac by keeping a 60mph average. We seemed to knock off a couple of hundred kilometres with no effort. It was a comfortable ride and for the first time there were white dashes/lines in the middle of the road. There was also more frequent traffic but the road was mostly empty. Another series of mountains appeared, more wrinkled in appearance, as if thin layers of chocolate been built up in huge quantities.

Late in the afternoon, the tarmac disappeared. They were rebuilding the road and we had to follow sidetracks by the raised road. It must be a short stretch of road works we thought. But the repaired road was never ending. The side tracks no longer followed the road and broke down into a maze of rutted tracks that had to cross dry river beds. It was some of the roughest terrain we had had to tackle. Where the hell was the paved road we had been promised?

We could see two dozen vehicles on the other side of the road roaring along dusty tracks away from the main road. It was like a scene out of the Mad Max 2 movie where all the vehicles are screaming after the oil tanker for the finale with dust flying out behind them in long trails.

Were they taking a short cut to Ulan Bator? We saw a police car take the same route. We didn’t know and thought it best to stay as close to the repaired road as possible. They could be headed anywhere. We crashed through piles of sand and got whipped around by the dry river beds. Ironically, it seemed that the worst driving had been left to the end. Then the fuel began to disappear and we had no reserves in the jerry cans, assuming we didn’t need any reserves. More to the point, there were no garages on the way anyway.

Then it started to get dark and we had no idea how far we were from UB. We could see no lights in the distance, just more silhouettes of mountains. Trev was driving and making the most of an unexpected rough terrain. I was thinking that we had come all this way and after trusting a guide book, we could end up running out of fuel on a track by a supposedly paved road. We would have to flag down a vehicle, get a lift to the nearest garage that could be miles away. Then we’d have to hitch back with the full jerry can. More to the point, it was dark so we would never get a lift and even if we did, it would be impossible to drive on the made up tracks in the dark. We’d end up sleeping in Disco and setting off at first light.

It was pitch black by now. We had lost count of the time changes. There was probably one in Mongolia but I can’t remember. We could see street lights but they were not the start of Ulan Bator. No garages were in sight. The fuel counter continued to drop. Then we had a weird experience of following a temporary track behind other vehicles where there was dust from the vehicles in front and fog spreading around at the same time as the temperature dropped.

Much to our relief, we saw a garage and were able to replenish the tank. It felt as if we had been running on fumes for ages. From there, it was just a case of following the surfaced road past the airport and into the centre. It took a while to get our bearings.

I had supposedly reserved a couple of beds at the UB Guesthouse where I had previously stayed, but finding it was an impossible task. I was led on a goose chase by a kind young couple who thought they knew where it was but after 20 minutes it was obvious they didn’t. Even when I was within five minutes walking distance, no one could tell me where it was – it was located in a block of flats. A man called them on his mobile to get directions and then I discovered they had given away our beds. Great.

We had passed numerous hotels on the way in and headed for a road with various choices. The Royal Hotel was new, clean and comfortable. For $35, we got double en suite room, kettle, international TV, breakfast and a security guard who kept an eye on our vehicle. It was after 11pm by the time we unpacked and had been a long 17 hour day, mostly driving. But we had arrived in Ulan Bator with a day to spare.

Today, Trev drove 319 miles (5912 total) and I did 94 (3536 total) = 413 for the daily total = 9365 miles after 28 days

Day 29 – Saturday August 9th

After the hectic time actually reaching Ulan Bator, we made the most of our comfortable room and had a lie in. We would be flying out tonight and didn’t have much to do. I had already spent a few days in UB so I knew the sightseeing was limited.

Ulaan Bataar is Mongolia’s largest city with one quarter of its population. As the industrial and transport centre, it has the look and feel of a neglected European city from the 1950s. Surrounded by (snow capped today) mountains, it’s a dusty, windy place, dominated by ugly high rise Soviet style apartment blocks and surrounded by Ger tent suburbs. It had definitely moved on since I had visited it in 2003. The roads were better and there were a lot of new buildings either under construction or completed.

We decided to make the most of the Disco before handing it over. Firstly, we drove to Peace Avenue to the State Department Store, the largest shop in UB and headed up to the top floor for an enjoyable hour of souvenir hunting – trying on Mongolian hats and jackets etc.

Then we drove to Sukhbaatar Square which lay further east just off Peace Avenue, in the centre with a statue of Damdiny Sukhbaatar on his horse. This was the “hero of the 1921 Revolution” that helped gain final independence from China. The State Parliament House took up one complete side. It was a typical Russian square and hadn’t really changed since 2003.

The impressive black statue of Genghis Khan was still sat in front of the Parliament building surrounded by two comrades on horseback. A young Mongolian couple were being photographed on their wedding day. We took in the scene, took some photos and headed off. As we left the square, we met one of the Scottish guys from the F7-F7 team who had arrived in town the day before us. They had crossed Kazakhstan and Russia and managed to tackle the Western route across Mongolia but it had taken double the time we had completed it in.

With nothing else left to do or see, we drove to the Children’s Development and Protection Foundation whose small HQ was based on Teeverchidiin Gudamj by the railway line. There was a large banner outside saying ‘Charity Rallies’ and an assortment of fellow vehicles that had arrived before us and been processed. We had been told that we would have to empty our vehicle and clean the interior and exterior. But when we arrived, we were shown into the office, welcomed, given a cold drink and told to sit down. We told them that we had arrived last night and that we were flying out tonight. They were rather shocked at the timescale. A hamburger and fries were produced for us and we met the President of the Charity. Since he couldn’t speak English, his thank you speech was translated by one of his colleagues.

Then we went outside and emptied the Disco. We had already left our suitcases and essentials at the hotel. When we started to unload everything, we were drenched by the smell of dried diesel in the back and everything appeared to be covered in dust by the journey across Mongolia. Once we had unloaded the 4 tyres (3 punctured) and tools, we unloaded the leftover food, camping gear and anything else we wouldn’t have room to take home – pretty much everything. Trev’s gnome was adopted by someone in the office and put on their desk.

By the time we had emptied everything, there was a large pile of stuff by the side of the Disco. We were ushered inside the office and presented with impressive plaques. It was a ‘Certificate of Honor’ which stated ‘Dear Mr Robert Jack, Herewith we are expressing our appreciation and gratitude to you for extending the warmest help and assistance to Mongolian children, especially for children living in difficult circumstances. We assure that the support presented by you will totally be dedicated for the betterment of their lives, brightening their minds…. As we know, the hands of help from England will reach every child we have concerned. Every step taken toward Mongolian children will open up them and flourish with new frontiers of their vision….On behalf of Mongolian children and adolescents, we wish you every success, happiness in your life and here you are certified as “ENVOY OF HONOR” of the Foundation.” It had been signed by “T. Ghandi, President and Member of the Parliament.” Which was nice. These had been produced while we had been outside and we were rather touched.

Trev was devastated at leaving his ‘baby’ behind, but what could we do. Between the three of us, we had covered nearly 10,000 miles, crossed 15 countries (3 less than expected), escaped four police fines, had two punctures, killed a donkey, and dealt with temperatures from 50’c to –3’c.

Two of the staff drove us back to our hotel where we packed, guessed the weight, pulled some stuff out, and guessed again. Since we didn’t need to be at the airport until at least 10.30pm, we had re-booked the room. With local cash to burn, we had time to pop to a supermarket to buy an assortment of local beers and to the local cafeteria for an assortment of local delicacies. The waitresses did not speak English so we tried to use body language to suggest that we would eat anything they had to offer. I seem to remember we had meaty/veg soup and a fiery lasagne. Everything tasted wonderful.

A taxi drove us to the airport late in the evening. We had time to check in with Mongolian Airways and burn the rest of our dwindling cash on cheap duty free vodka (well, it would have been rude not to). Our flight left at midnight and we flew north to Irkutsk, Siberia within Russia.

Today, Trev drove 6 miles (5918 final total) and I did 0 (3536 final total) = 6 for the daily total = Grand Total of 9371 miles after 29 days.

Roadkill: Camel, eagle, horse, bird, UFO x 3

Costs in Mongolia for 5 days (in British Pounds Sterling)

Travel - £71.77
Accommodation - £49.21
Food - £7.50
Other - £21.81
Total - £150.29
Grand Total - £1905.44

Day 30 – Sunday August 10th

The flight was less than two hours and with the time zone change, we arrived at 1am. It took over an hour to get processed by immigration (note to passport control – always try and have more than one person on duty when a plane lands). We entered Russia for a second time on our dual entry visa.

Once through, we picked up our luggage and found most of the small, decrepit departure lounge covered in sleeping bodies. I tried to find out what the procedure was for catching the 5am plane to Moscow, but no-one spoke English, until a passenger was presented who could translate.

We found a couple of wooden benches and attempted to nap for a couple of hours, before eventually finding the correct check in desk at 4.30am to process our Moscow flights. We left sometime between 5 and 6am and the two hours something flight dropped us in Moscow around 8am. It was one convoluted return journey for us, but the cheapest we could find after all the cheap direct Aeroflot flight seats had sold out.

Our flight to Berlin would not leave until 5pm which left us a few hours to pass. We could have holed up in a bar, but I hadn’t been to Moscow since 1992 and Trev had never visited the city. We paid an extortionate amount to leave our suitcases and hand luggage at a left luggage office at the airport and caught a train which took us all the way to a station just outside Red Square. It was pouring with rain and seriously wet.

We did a tour of Red Square, Lenin’s Tomb, St Basil’s Cathedral, the Kremlin Walls and GUM Department store. Moscow had westernised itself rapidly since I had last visited but this central district had hardly changed. GUM had transformed itself into a modern shopping mall. The army guards were still pricks in Red Square, looking for an excuse to mess around tourists. It was interesting to see the Muscovites at play. A bunch of people were attending a political rally about something – there was a large statue of Karl Marx as a backdrop to the speaker but probably only 20 people were attending. Communism was dying. Others walked around the parks or sat in cafes. Mid afternoon, we caught the train back to Red Square, watching the Beijing Olympics on a TV in the packed waiting room.

Costs in Moscow for 1 days(in British Pounds Sterling)

Travel - £14.52
Food - £12.87
Other - £16.09
Total - £43.48
Grand Total - £1948.92

Back at the airport, we checked onto our Berlin flight and used our remaining Roubles for beer and a snack. The flight with Air Berlin left at 5pm and arrived at 6pm with the time zone difference. By now, we had lost all ideas of time. We had passed through so many time zones that our minds and bodies had no idea what time it was.

Berlin’s Tegel airport was a return to full westernisation. It was a proper airport with English signs and information desks where they spoke English. We waited for a courtesy bus to take us to the pre-booked discounted (49 Euros for a double room) Mercure Airport Hotel just outside the airport. It was a great hotel with everything we needed including a restaurant where we had a celebratory meal and enjoyed a comfortable night after being on the move for what seemed like two days with the time differences.

Costs in Berlin for 1 night(in British Pounds Sterling)

Travel - £0
Food - £28
Accom - £ 39.20
Other - £0
Total - £69.20

Grand Total - £2018.12

Day 31 – Monday August 11th

It was an early start of around 4.30am to get a courtesy minibus back to the airport for the 6.30am air Berlin flight to Stansted. I checked on my luggage for a fourth time in two days and took my Duty Free Mongolian vodka with me as hand luggage just like the previous three check ins. There was a long line at security where everyone seemed to be getting the majic wand even if they hadn’t beeped going through the beep barrier.

When I reached the X-ray machine with Zer Impeccible German Zercurity, they flagged me up and said ‘Vat iss Ziss?” “Duty Free Vodka”. “Ziss cannot pass zis point!” “Why not? I just caught three flights from Mongolia and it has gone through as hand luggage every time. Its duty free! You are supposed to carry it on as hand luggage”. “For zis to happen, it must have been in Berlin for 24 hours.” “But I’ve already flown three flights with it so far. If it was dangerous, it would have blown up already.” “Zat is not funny. Zer are no exceptions. You muss check it on as luggage.”

So I had to wade through the backed up passengers to return to the check in desk to line up behind all the other passengers and check on my vodka. En route, I passed was a British Air Berlin rep standing outside security to remind us what we could or could not take. I explained why I was coming back and repeated my story. “Well, mate” he replied “This is the most security conscious Airport in Europe.” “Why?” I questioned him. “Who have the Germans pissed off?” “You, obviously” he sniggered. So I checked on zer dangerous vodka and assumed it would be destroyed by the baggage handlers. Then returned to the same security guard and tried to remember any bad words from my German classes at School. I went through the beep machine in a T-shirt and shorts and I still had the magic wand waved around me. “Where could I possibly be keeping a weapon?” I asked “Up my arse?” “Bend ze over” was the reply. Oh shit…

It was a budget airline flight with no thrills but a surprising number of male air- hostesses who could have swung either way. With us using up another hour time zone, we landed around 7.30am.

My friend Wendy had kindly come down to pick us up at Stansted and we drove back to Bungay to my house. I dumped my gear and packed for another trip. The entire trip had been based on my need to be back in the UK by August 11th. My parents were having a 50th Wedding anniversary party on the Wednesday and I had to be there to make a speech.

Suffice to say, I packed and Trev and I drove across to Stratford Upon Avon to reunite him with his wife and the following day, I drove 300 miles up to Scotland. I could get the hang of this driving lark….

Costs for whole trip over 31 days (in British Pounds Sterling)

Travel/Fuel - £827.08
Accommodation - £481.93
Food - £191.13
Other - £515.98
Grand Total - £2018.12

Recommendations and Conclusions (for the Azerbaijan route) – in no particular order:

1. Make sure you get a decent vehicle to do this trip. You will need 4-wheel drive (not much of the time, but you will need it)
2. Carry some spare tyres and know how to change them. We blew three out of five (but none of the off road tyres). Also take a tyre inflator.
3. If possible, make sure one of you is good at mechanical repair. I was totally reliant on Trev’s mechanical expertise – to spot any problems and repairing them.
4. Get hold of detailed maps of every country you will be driving through. Basic maps are ok for Europe but for anything after Bulgaria, get a map for every country
5. Take at least two compasses with you. We had a bubble compass stuck to the dashboard but needed a second one to cross check our direction
6. Work out your route and timings and if you can afford it, get dual entry visas for any country after Azerbaijan. Also apply for the maximum period for staying in a country (eg 1 month). This will give you more flexibility and avoid problems such as getting deported from countries like Uzbekistan.
7. It’s worth researching potential hotels/hostels that you could stop at during your trip (just in case). Most of the time, you never stick to your schedule and end up finding anything, but its always nice to have a few up your sleeve. For example, I knew the about the Velotrek Hotel in Baku. We met another team who were paying three times what we were in Baku.
8. Make sure you prepare and take all the relevant paperwork for your vehicle. It will be checked endlessly. For example, our Green Card did not include Turkey. We could have prepared this in the UK.
9. Unless you are a hardened team, taking camping gear is pointless (a stove and sleeping bag is useful but skip the tent). It is easier to sleep in the vehicle in the rare times you fail to find a hotel. You will spend so many hours driving that it is a lot easier to find a hotel and get a decent night’s sleep, a shower etc.
10. It’s worth bringing a supply of food with you – easy to cook stuff, your favourite snacks/food. Driving through Europe you can pick up everything you need more cheaply than the UK. Some nights you will be too dog tired and just want some comfort food.
11. Take a couple of jerry cans with you. Fill them up when you get to cheap fuel countries (eg Azerbaijan, Kazahzstan). This will allow you the luxury of making mistakes/getting lost and still having plenty of reserve fuel to get back on track.
12. Currency – take both US Dollars and Euros and a couple of credit cards to use at ATMs.
13. If you want to do the Turkmenistan route, make sure you have the visa in advance. If you don’t forget it. Whatever the organisers say or plan, you will not get past the Baku ferry company without a Turkmenistan visa in your passport. Do not expect any help from the Turkmenistan Embassy in Baku. They are very unhelpful and paper-pushers relying on orders from Turkmenistan.
14. If you end up taking the Kazahzstan ferry from Baku, make sure you take enough liquid/snacks/alcohol to last you three days. It will take a lot longer than you expect
15. Don’t overstay your visa in Uzbekistan – it’s a bummer
16. Try to avoid driving at night from Azerbaijan onwards. Its dangerous and you will eventually hit something – a donkey, human, truck. Stick to daytime driving only.
17. Have someone in the UK monitoring the Charity Rallies Web page for updates from other teams who can then text you with updates. For example we heard that a couple of teams had been turned back from the Azerbaijan border for having right hand wheel drives, before we got there.
18. Have a weird and wonderful trip. As long as you get there, who cares what you went through. You’ll feel very appreciated by the charity in Ulan Bator and dispite all the shit you dealt with, you’ll feel as if it was all worth it. And it was.

{Mongolia Map}
Maps courtesy of www.theodora.com/maps used with permission.

  • Return to Mongolia Rally Main Page