Devastating news from our intrepid VA fundraiser in Uzbekistan. Dispatches from the ‘frontline’ report Mildred and Olly injured. Their (almost!) unabridged account of events follows:
19 August: Before I start blabbering, I just want to say that I am on the side of the road, huddled next to a battered and heavily bruised Mildred. Uzbekistan has taken its toll . . . I don’t have much Internet but as I’ve been off grid for about a week, I thought I would try to fire off an email trying to describe what has been a bloody crazy week. I wish that either Will or ‘Olive’ (see earlier posts for explanation!) could have been here to share it with me!
I left Olive at the airport in Tbilisi in pretty low spirits considering that I was staring down the barrel of a 6,000 mile solo stint to the ends of the earth. The massive blow of losing Will was partly offset by the fun that Olive and I had on the Thessaloniki-Tbilisi stint. We had a great time; it had really put the wind in my sails and had spurred me into continuing. However, when leaving the airport I inadvertently took a wrong turning, which ended up taking me 350 kms off my original plan.
I went to the border crossing at Lagodekhi and had a spectacular drive down through the lower Caucasus, unbelievably scenery. I slept by the side of the road in Sheki. The next day I continued down and crossed a desert and then into Baku. What a strange experience! Out of the middle of nowhere, this ginormous city appears, perched between a sea of oil wells and the Caspian. There were millions of purple London cabs driving around as well! Weird. Baku looked really cool and I would be very happy to return.
I was lucky and there was a ferry to Aktau the next day (some people at the ticket office had been there for 6 days!). I stayed the night with someone Mum had contacted. Their house was awesome and I got some much-needed washing done (*NB First wash stop since Istanbul!)
The ferry took 35 hours (a further 9 hours were spent waiting for the ferry to leave Baku). We left in the late afternoon of the 13th and arrived really early on the 15th. I had met five Aussies who were also doing the Mongol Rally, in a Subaru van, and another on a Suzuki GN125 motorbike. They were good fun and persuaded me to stick with them and change my route to incorporate Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan. As we cleared customs, the vast expanse of the Kazak desert hit us. 40 degrees Centigrade all day, 8:30am-6pm.
We crossed the nightmarish hell-hole (520kms) in two days. All I can say is that the Mongol Rally had really started. All the stories from past entrants start in the Stans. These were not paved roads. Sand and sharp stoned rule the roost. Mildred suffered. The entire cab, constantly in a shower of dust, all my kit, all the food, all the electrics quickly disappeared under a thick coating of this dust. It got into every nook and cranny, even mine! All the filters suffered, the engine was down on power, just when I needed it the most.
This all sounds pretty bad but it was great. Just imagine me ploughing through the desert, Springsteen blaring from my speakers, me wearing my newly acquired Raybans headband on, ear-to-ear grin on my silly face. It was awesome! Mildred handled it like a champion, smashing through sand dunes and over ruts. That night in the desert was superb as well, the stars, breathtaking. The Uzbek border was when the proverbial faeces hit the proverbial fan. We hurtled in, skidding on the gravel, all the blokes in their element. We had made it across the desert alive and the cars were relatively unscathed. To keep it short, we arrived at 8pm and were through at 5am. They asked us to opened EVERYTHING! Every bag, every bloody wallet, every water bottle; ALL opened and photographed. I had to give the dates of entry and exit of every single country that I had been to on the rally. We were completely powerless. But once into Uzbek, all hell broke loose.
As we had entered via the desert border, there was not a town to be seen. No petrol or diesel, and we were back in the desert. Uzbek has no ATM’s, no official currency exchanges and no petrol stations. It’s all about the ‘dodgy looking bloke’ who flags you down at street corners. Really frustrating. So, after 12 hrs. crossing the Uzbek desert, the Aussie car’s gearbox died and in true Top Gear fashion, we left them behind. I have got their number and they are still 550 kms behind (I have continued with the Aussie biker; hilariously called Geoff).
Now, to get to the crux of the story.
I have had a torrid 24 hrs. When driving (I was ferrying the broken down Aussies to the mechanic!) I got a bad puncture, so that tyre is a write-off. Then, after leaving them, I got another puncture! This time I hit a massive pothole and the rim bend into an egg shape. Both tyre and rim a write off!
(Note to parents: Now please be calm. Please REMAIN CALM!)
Mildred and I have had a little accident: 100% not my fault. A lorry crossed into my lane in the desert to evade a pothole. I braked and the guy who had been behind for the last quarter of an hour obviously had a brain fart, failed his hazard perception and smashed into the back of me. I am therefore currently sitting outside the mechanics having poor old Milders fixed. It’s safe to say that the rear bumper did a stellar job and bore most of the brunt. The rear axle is a bit bent and the wheels are now misaligned. The exhaust is also bent and dragging on the floor. The boot, with all my spare fuel and tool kits, cooker, etc., (Olive and Will, you know the score) is un-openable.
All in all, a superb first crash! I was pretty shaken, on my tod, but am better now. I have whiplash and also some cuts and bruises on my beautiful face – but I’ll live! Really, I am OK and, more importantly, so is Mildred. I am getting her fixed. The (!) who hit me is paying 260 dollars but I reckon I might have to pay a bit more later on as other bits start to fall off. It’s come a bit of a shock as the last 24hrs have seen some huge changes to Mildred.
I’m a bit saddened and wishing Olive and Will could be here to help me struggle in Azeri but I’m mainly alright. I will know more tomorrow but the plan is to head up to Samarkand (I am in Bukhara ATM) and decide what to do next. I am now off to sleep in the mechanics attic. What a treat. And Will, I just had the last sticky toffee pudding.
I AM GOING TO BLOODY MAKE IT THOUGH! The last 5 days in the desert are a testament to that.
*Follow Olly and Mildred on the next leg of their amazing journey – and please, please show your appreciation by supporting them through their Just Giving page.
