I have been approached by Go Help (Charity Rallies) to become a trustee to further encourage such projects to other regions but to also apply our somewhat successful and fun fundraising model to help other teams. I had come up with a novel idea, exploited it and was successful - after this, I didn’t want to see the work go to waste, and so it made sense to plug into an up and coming charity that had the same direction as me, that was still at a size where you could model it in your image but where your project would get the support to take it from a one-off event to a sustainable charitable event.
The Results so far..
• Around 15 Ambulances to Mongolia in 2009
• Many people inspired by the team to do it for themselves.
Where is the ambulance now?
In Mongolia of course!
But based in UB at a Children’s hospice and clinic. Also During the Nadaam a traditional Mongolian holiday celebration it will be the principal response vehicle.
Want to get involved?
Drive yourself? Become part of the volunteer organising team? Join a team? Just lend a hand?
Well freshers week recruitment is upon us… Just to remind you all…
Were a student project that sends ambulances out to mongolia.
The project aims to deliver as many vehicles as possible to Mongolia that can be used as an ambulance. Also some of the vehicles will act as a mobile clinic that can be used for vaccinations and screenings in rural areas where most people do not have direct access to medical care. Many Mongolians that fall ill will often have to make a journey that lasts for days to get to a hospital or even a doctor. Our vehicles will travel the rural communities providing care where care is currently unavailable.
We ran this project last year raising over GBP 22,000 and are looking to improve on this.
10,000 miles of pot-holes, bandits and strange borders…
The Ambulance to Mongolia delivery is a pan-continental drive across five mountain ranges, two deserts and more barren and inhospitable lands than you care to shake a gear-stick at. Starting in London, the final destination is the great Mongol capital of Mongolia, beyond the Gobi desert, Ulaanbaatar.
We are offering the opportunity for people to get involved with the project. If you think you can help out/get involved in any apsect of the 2009 trip send us an email to ambulancetomongolia@gmail.com with the subject “Count me in”. In return you have the opportunity during Summer 2009 to travel as part of the delivery team.
The last day. Thirty one days on the road and we had made it. Mongolia stretched out over the border fence patrolled by Russian Jeeps. It was the most secure border we had seen by far. We passed out of Russia with ease, in fact the guards were extremely friendly. Then we proceeded in anticipation to the Mongolian border. We were stopped, documents handed over along with an adjustable spanner (the guy wanted one) to lubricate the process. We Got into customs and the fat lady said not a chance are we getting into Mongolia with the vehicle. We would have to park it with the 30 or so other cars in the border car park. This was a problem. Go Help the charity organising the Mongolia crossing was called and they sprang into action. Luckily they were extremely helpful and a woman was dispatched from Sukhbataar to help us get in with the Ambulance. She worked a miracle and we were through. Medical vehicles are exempt from the rules which she pointed out to the fat lady and she had no choice but to let us in. Our mission was accomplished, the Ambulance was now on the road to Ulaanbaatar and ready to be handed over to those that need it most. 31 days, almost 8,000 miles, 1300 litres of fuel, 3 breakdowns and a puncture. We had made it. The sense of accomplishment was overwhelming.
We reached Ulan Ude, the last major town before Mongolia. The trip was nearly over and our heads were full of uncertainties. What do we do when we get there? Will we be allowed in? Will it be weird not driving everyday? Ulan Ude had two things we wanted. The first was the worlds largest Lenin head which after an extensive search we could not locate. The second was fuel. We pulled into a fuel station and met our attendant Mr Lovely. He was a young kid about 17 and he claimed to have five girlfriends which would explain his black eye. He wanted to email us so we gave him our address and he gave us his. He wished us well and said he would see us in London at some point. He was a nice enough kid. Leaving Ulan Ude, the road stretched out in front of us there was only one road south and that was the road to Ulaanbaatar. We were on it. The final leg, the last furlong. We could almost taste it. The landscape rapidly began to change and it started looking like Mongolia. We camped just short of the border and waited in anticipation for the following day, our last day.
We awoke on our final morning to hear Greg, the most overt of the three chatting up Katya, the hostel host for the day. He was explaining the finer points of his Asus laptop to her and she was loving it. Needless to say once we had showered we ripped him to shreds but he loved it. Apparently she has been keeping in touch with him. We said our goodbyes to the Austrians who now felt like old friends and agreed to meet up again in Ulaanbaatar. They were headed off to Lake Biakal for a few days and we were heading back to the road. We made steady progress over the mountains to Biakal. The roads were steep and the old Russian trucks had smoke pouring from their brakes. We left a wide margin between us and the trucks. Eventually we saw it, Lake Biakal revealed its vast expanse over the summit of a mountain. It stretches 400 miles and is the worlds deepest lake. The water was crystal clear. The Russians love it, it is a source of national pride and we could see why. It was fantastic, like looking out over a vast clear ocean but in the middle of Siberia. We drove around it for a while and tried to find a camping spot on the banks. We could not find anywhere secluded enough and so had to settle for one of its several hundred feeder rivers which was pretty cool as we could swim in it and clean ourselves.
We headed off to see the sights. There was not a great deal to see but it was nice not to be driving. We walked along the river and went to see the statue of the Tsar. That afternoon we came back to the hostel and three Austrians had moved in. We chatted to them and went for lunch together. They were a week in to a two year journey around most of the world with a long stop in Australia to earn some money. Their plan form Australia was to travel to India and drive back to Austria from there in a Tata Nano, the worlds smallest car. They were pretty friendly guys and we drank some vodka with them into the early hours of the morning. Their website is www.fahrfaraway.com but they do not update it often. These Austrians would stay in touch with us and us with them.
Having found a track to camp down the night before we made it our goal to get to Irkutsk today. It felt like we had been travelling towards this town for an age and getting there would signify the end of a journey within a journey. We made it there by early afternoon and were relieved to say the least. According to Trailblazers Trans Siberian Handbook, Irkutsk is the Paris of Siberia and has a wealth of Hostels. The hostels we were looking for were no longer in existence. We eventually found Downtown hostel No1 but that was full. Helpfully they directed us to Downtown Hostel No2. There was space here and it was to become our home for two nights. We decided we would have a rest day in Irkutsk. We were knackered. It was a pleasant enough place with friendly staff and clean toilets. That night we hit the town, painted it red and came home.
Another breakdown greeted us at 4pm. The ambulance shuddered to a halt and we suspected the fuel filter. We changed it and bled the engine as we had seen Slav do in Kazakhstan. No luck the thing would not fire. We luckily shuddered to a halt just outside a village and so obtaining a mechanic was relatively easy. Unfortunately the mechanic was a cowboy who knew as much about engines as your average Honda customer. He tried what we tried and had no success. He told us the problem must be electrical and we would need to be towed 100km on dirt tracks to the next big town. This is a thought we did not relish. He had a trick up his sleeve. The sailor. We waited for a chap for an hour that the “mechanic” called. When he arrived he was sporting a blue and white striped tight t-shirt. This man was the sailor. He tinkered for an hour and the ambulance roared back into life. We still don’t know the exact cause but think it may be the fuel solenoid. He bodged a wire from the battery to this and to start the engine we would now have to make sure this wire was connected to both the battery and solenoid then turn the key. To stop the engine we had to disconnect the wire, the key had no effect. This bodge would do for the time being and we would fix this properly in Ulaanbaatar. He was less friendly than Slav and wanted almost $200 for his expertise. We refused to pay him that much and so gave him $70. He accepted. We were back on the road and it was awful. A tow on this road would have been near impossible. We pressed on into the night hoping to make Irkutsk the following day.
We would hit Krasnoyarsk today. We pushed on in the blistering heat and stunning mountainous countryside. It was a brilliant drive. We saw some locals swimming in a river and decided to join them for a while. A British Toyota Hilux came to join the party. They were on the way to the Gobi desert to support a camel trek. We left them in the river and pressed on. We began to notice that the police were a lot less interested in ripping us off this side of the Atlas mountains, a good thing for Anglo-Russian relations. We reached Krasnoyarsk early evening and checked into a hostel. It was an interesting place that we assume was once a fairly grand soviet building. Its glory days were over but the marble staircase and ornate cornice work were still intact. Wanting a shower we set about the search. It transpired that to get to the shower you had to walk downstairs to reception and go through a small door to the left of the desk. Through this door you had to step over some wood and then go down two flights of stairs to the basement. I walked down and was greeted by several large padlocked doors. Was I in the right place? Yes, I walked down the corridor and saw the showers. Massive affairs the size of a bedroom. They were amazing showers in tiled box rooms reminiscent of a slaughterhouse. All I could think of was the film, Hostel. Having had a rapid shower I returned to safety in the bedroom. I was still alive, that was a bonus. We wandered into the town centre to have a look at the river and then it was time for bed.
We got up and were getting ready to leave when Nick appeared once again. We had a chat and explained to him that we had heard of some trouble entering Mongolia through the northern border. He said he could help and copied a letter from the Mongolia ambassador which stated something like “let this person pass freely through the country of Mongolia.” It was better than nothing. The Mongolian border problems came to light from my mother who informed us from her internet travels that other cars were being left abandoned at the border, the drivers being forced to take a taxi into Ulaanbaatar. The law changed at the beginning of August for some reason at this border only. All very odd but we had no choice but to take the risk and head for it regardless of the potential problems. We headed out of Barnul and were aiming for Irktusk some 1500km away. Obviously it was going to take a while to get there. This was our first real taste of Siberia seeing all the wooden shacks and logging stations. We stopped at the roadside for a particularly good beef wrap. It is certainly worthy of mention and worth a stop should you be travelling East out of Barnul. That evening we found a place to camp only for it to immediately be overcome with flying ants. The sky surrounding the ambulance was black with them and we decided to find another spot. We did find another spot in a farmers field that was decidedly less alive and we stayed the night.
We set off at 0930 headed for Barnul. It was a pretty uneventful day really with not a great deal to report until we got to town. We rolled into Barnul and we followed a local to a hotel he said was cheap. It turned out to be the best hotel and one of the cheapest we have stayed in on the trip. In the car park we noticed a Mongol Rally Renault 4. For all the Apprentice fans, it turned out to belong to Nick Hewer, Sugars right hand man. He approached us in reception and was intrigued and impressed by our curious Ambulance. He was surprised we made it through Kazakhstan. He took some photos and then disappeared. We would not see him until the following day. We got some food, headed to a bar and then went to bed. Standard city procedure.
We woke up not knowing of the problems we were going to face this day. We drove unwittingly towards the border and got in the queue. We were waved through the gates after about an hour of watching the unroadworthy vehicles that were coming home from Russia drive by. Kazakhstan must have no road safety rules as there were lorries with wheels missing and cars with tyres showing string. Anyway in we drove to the Kazakh side of the border and went through a customs search. This border was much more official than its western counterpart. Customs turned up nothing, phew. Our problems began as we handed our passports over. When you enter a country you are given a migration card that you fill in with your name D.O.B. Etc which we did but we did not read the back of this card. On the back in English it read “All foreign nationals must register their presence in Kazakhstan within five days of entering the country.” Problem. We had not done this and into a side office we were ushered. The book was literally thrown at us and the border guard was keen to point put to us that we could be shot or jailed for this offence. We were in trouble and I did not fancy being shot over a visa problem. He eventually calmed down and the guns were put away. We were to be fined $100 dollars each. Annoying as we had to go back the way we came or rather Charlie had to go back the way we came with a border guard in tow to the bank where the money would be paid into a government account. It was this or be banned from Kazakhstan for five years. We chose to pay. Just before we left the border guard who I came to know as, Jerry had a change of heart and decided only one of us was going to pay the fine. I had to stay and entertain him. We joked about sending me to prison for 15 days while Charlie was off on his way to the bank. It was a fun time. Once the prison jokes were over he began to question me using no English at all about politics and war. He, a product of the Kazakh education system was well educated asking if our president was Roosevelt and if we had a king. Good to see the Kazakhs are down with their political history. He then asked me about the war of the Roses and whether I was York or Lancaster. All very odd and how he knew such random things escapes me. He then wanted me to list some English actors and was amazed that James Bond was British creation. Hours went by and I was getting bored of entertaining this guy. Eventually Charlie came back with his own tale to tell. He arrived at the bank and there was a queue. Standard procedure at all Asian banks is a long queue. He queued with his border guard mate and then there was a power cut. Brilliant. The paper forms came out and progress at the bank was slow. It took four hours to complete the $100 transaction. By the time Charlie got back it was 6pm and we quickly drove through to the Russian side of the border where having thought we got into Russia too easily last time were expecting the worst. Again Russian efficiency prevailed and with the guards more interested in turning lorries over a quick glance in the back of the Ducato with a torch kept them happy. We were in Siberia. Did you know 30% off all the trees in the world are in Siberia! We were going to see most of them. It was late by this point and we drove a few km down the road and set up camp by the railway for the night.
We arose in the Hotel fresh form the night before and decided to have a drive around to get some film footage of the incredible city. We got some fuel before heading to Pavlodar and the Russian border. Our time in Kazakhstan was coming to an end. The road out of the city was much like the roads around Makat, pretty undriveable. It is odd to see new BMW’s driving these roads, something you would not see in the UK. The road got better further out of town but the the ruts from lorries got worse and we were essentially driving down an inversed railway line. Should you slip off the rails the suspension would let you know with a loud thunk, it was on its way out. Kazakhstan had destroyed the front suspension and we had to take it slow. We debated our options and decided to press on in the hope its condition remained stable, it did and we became pros at reading the limits of the suspension and managed not to cause any more damage. We eventually reached Pavlodar at around 5pm where we stopped to stock up on supplies. Upon exiting the shop we were approached by a guy from Almaty who was on a motorbike holiday and spoke pretty good English. He told us someone had called the local TV station and that we were going to appear on TV in a few minutes. A chance for us to be celebrities was a chance we could not miss. The TV stations Lada rolled up and out hopped the presenter and cameraman. They did not want much apart form a brief note about what we were doing, had we seen Borat and they wanted us to say some Russian words. All very odd. They filmed us driving out of town and we were apparently going to be on local news that night. Not many foreigners visit Pavlodar. Getting out of Pavlodar became a problem. We quickly realised we should have asked the TV guys the way to Russia but we thought we knew the way. We drove around for at least two hours trying to find the right road. It became a nightmare as nothing in Kazakhstan is signposted. We eventually found the road and it was smooth, it was new. Thank God. We raced down this highway and camped a few km shy of the border. We wanted to hit it early and plough up through Russia.
We awoke in Slavs living room at about 7am ready to hit the road to Astana. Nina had cooked us up a breakfast consisting of the previous evenings leftovers. It was delicious as always and it was our third meal there. The priest came by shortly after breakfast and wanted to show us his church across the road. He was in fairly good condition giving the amount of vodka he had put away the previous evening. We had a quick scout around the church and we were ready to leave. We offered Slav some money for the repair but he would not accept. He got in his car and he showed us to the main road and we said our goodbyes. He invited us to come back any time and visit. An offer we cannot refuse should we be there again. We were apparently the first English people to visit their village and I think we made a pretty good impression and managed not to make too many social faux pas. Astana was our target for the day, Slav had recommended a route change which we duly followed and we began making pretty good progress on a decent road. The problem with decent roads in Kazakhstan is that they lull you into a false sense of security. You can be travelling at 100kph on the smoothest surface and then a pothole the size of Switzerland will appear out of nowhere ready to rip your vehicle to pieces. We became pro pothole spotters, the slightest blip on the horizon triggered our senses and we managed to get through relatively unscathed. The roads steadily got worse and our speed dropped to 50kph which made the 650km distance all the more arduous. The roads were either potholed or so uneven that some of the bumps would suit an Olympic ski jumper. It was ridiculous. We did manage to get to Astana though and went about finding a place to stay. We found a hotel near the train station that was cheap and clean with shared bathrooms, the travellers favourite. It also had secure parking which was a bonus. The problem with the parking is that it was too secure. Try getting a Fiat Ducato down a narrow alleyway surrounded by enterprising grannies then hanging a left through a gate. It simply was not happening. In order to get a bit more space we made the grannies move and with that extra space we manoeuvred the Ducato into the hotel car park. Everyone was watching. Ambulance parked we sat in the room and contemplated our options for the evening. We wanted to go and see some of the sights the capital city has to offer and so we hopped in a taxi to the centre. The taxi driver had no idea what we were talking about and we ended up at some internet cafe/brothel. We a little more explaining we showed him a picture and off we went. We had a walk around the Las Vegas style imitation city centre and were blown away by what we saw. Huge skyscrapers, dazzling lights and perfectly synchronised fountains. It was a spectacular sight to behold. New Kazakhstan was being created here, the presidential playground was before us and we marvelled at its sight.
We woke to trouble as the Ambulance would not start. Suspecting the fuel filter we changed it for a new one (we had two spares) but this failed to solve the problem. Being 50km from the nearest mechanic we were in a predicament. Fortunately and this is where you begin to appreciate the randomness of some of the situations we were faced with a German/Kazakh was passing by in his camper van and offered us a tow to the mechanics. Alexander, the German spoke good English and told us that he grew up in the village he was taking us to but has lived most of his life in Germany and visits the village once a year. We were in luck as he knew the mechanic and he sorted the problem out immediately. We thought we could get back on the road at this point but Slav, the mechanic had different ideas. After shouting some words to his helper whose sole job seemed to be to fetch tools we were invited back to his for lunch. He took us in his 4×4 to his lakeside home leaving his helper to reassemble the air filter assembly on the Ambulance. At his home his wife Nina had prepared a feast for us comprising rather delicious fried aubergine as a starter followed by pasta with mutton and a desert of tea and jam. Apparently the Kazakhs put jam in their tea. It was an awesome lunch, probably the best meal so far. We finished lunch and out came the vodka. Not wanting to get wasted we tried to decline but Slav was having none of it and insisted we stay the night. We had little choice luckily. He joked he had a Russian Banya which is basically a sauna in which you get whipped with dried leaves. Ninas brother, Uncle Slav arrived and he had all the grace and looks of a werewolf. He was hilarious and we talked about everything from politics to geography. It was while this conversation was flowing that we noticed Slav’s son relaying wood to the back of the shed where smoke was billowing. Perhaps there was some kind of Russian Banya. We chatted some more and showed both Slav’s our route where they proceeded to argue over the best roads for the rest our Kazakh adventure. Slav at one stage pointed out that Uncle Slav was looking at China. Excellent. Slav then announced the Banya was ready. Filled with dread we entered naked. Sat inside with Uncle Slav who was wearing just a tophat we proceeded to get scalded by the intense heat and scratched by the leaves. It was awesome. We felt like idiots. We manged about four minutes inside before Uncle Slav told us to jump in the lake. This would be repeated three more times until we were cleansed. It was on the last trip into the lake that more people started arriving. It must have been about 6pm. One of the newcomers to the party was Vadim, a huge Russian chap who wanted to show us a real Banya. Back into the Banya and he made it hot, so hot it hurt to breathe. Determined not to leave we persisted and I think he was surprised we managed to cope with the heat. We jumped back in the lake with him in tow and had a quick swim. Back to the jetty we swam to be greeted with yet another vodka and a small cucumber. It seemed as much a he wanted to get us wasted he wanted to do it sensibly by ensuring our stomachs were full. We got out and dried off, Nina had built an outside table to seat fourteen. A party was coming. We sat down with Vadim and had some more vodka, we were drunk. Thankfully Nina came up trumps with food and quickly began dishing out some more meat pasta and aubergine. The local priest, shopkeeper and several other friends of Slav’s had arrived. We were now the centre of village attention. Vadim kept the vodka coming and eventually he was wasted. He was drunk before he got to Slav’s. He told us he respected our trip and that we were men. It was brilliant. He claimed he was ex-russian special forces and wanted to fight us to prove his manliness. At this point he was ejected. It was brilliant and he was not spoken of again that night. After his ejection things turn hazy and we camped up for the night in Slav’s living room, a comfortable change compared to camping. The day was over and we had a fantastic time.
After a mosquito filled night we had a relatively easy day reaching Kostanay a more traditional Kazakh town but still one facing the ravages of development. I would like to go back in ten years and witness the changes. It is changing so rapidly and is struggling with a new identity. Fortunately old Kazakhstan is still alive outside the major centres. We camped up for the night and were unaware of the trouble and enjoyment Day 18 would bring.
We reached Aqtobe and found some internet and food. Both were rubbish. It was a strange town, it had a dual personality. In the suburbs where most people live the houses were just like any other Kazakh town built of wood and corrugated steel. We filled our water containers at the wells which are located on most street corners as there is no plumbing. When we hit the centre it was plush, new, built on new money. Kazakhstan has vast fossil wealth waiting to be unlocked. In the last few years western companies have come in to exploit the resources and Kazakhstan has seen an income explosion though it is still an extremely poor country with most people reliant on local economies to survive. These economies are built on farming. There is little industry in Kazakhstan save for mines and fossil fuel extraction. The money generated from these profit heavy industries does not go into the pockets of the average Kazakh, it serves the accounts of a choice few company executives and the president of the country who lavishes 8% of the national budget making the capital, Astana look “cool.” Anyway the centre of Aqtobe is a prime example of this with pluch office blocks and overpriced shopping centres well centre catering for the wealthy few who have settled in the town. The shopping centre is full of western brands retailing at astronomical prices. This is the new Kazakhstan, a face we were not at all sure about.
The Beetle parted company with us at this stop. They could not engage 4th gear, a recurring problem since the Ukraine and they felt they were slowing us down. They were not and we encouraged them to stay with us but they wanted to get back into Russia where the roads would be more car friendly. We said our goodbyes and we would not hear from them until they reached Ulaanbaatar a few days ahead of us.
We got up early again and aimed to get to Aqtobe for evening. Yeah Right! We were greeted by the same roads as the previous day and so persisted. The Ambulance had some hairy moments early on with the short but near vertical inclines on some of these locally forged roads. It was pretty fun. The roads steadily declined with brief sections of paved road intermingled with unpaved track. We met up with the Rascal and a Daihatsu van of similar stature again and travelled with them for most of the day. They had a cavalier attitude towards the roads and keeping up was a struggle but we managed. Things took a turn when we realised all the petrol stations we were passing lacked any kind of diesel. The petrol was down to 72 grade and the vans were struggling with the quality. Getting worried and the needle below red we found a fuel station with diesel. We bought almost 200 litres (just in case) filling the Ambulance tank and also five jerry cans. Total cost of 200 litres? $160, bargain. We pressed on and the little vans were canin g it over the rough, we had to slow down as the Ambulance was taking a beating, bottoming out several times and spinning the wheels in the sand. We were too heavy for these roads. The vans disappeared off into the distance, this would be the last we saw of them. We had some more difficulties with the roads. Charlie almost rolled the Ambulance on a severe road camber, that was something we didn’t want to repeat. It is hard to describe just how bad the roads were. The verges were filled with car parts and the roads were largely empty save for massive trucks. The Kazakhs must stay at home. It is a strange sight seeing an articulated lorry coming at you down a road only really suitable for a 4×4. To the lay onlooker it looked an impossibility but not to the Kazakh lorry drivers, they do this all the time. Some sections looked truly impassable but resilience and a lack of alternative route left us with no choice even if it meant shredding the underside of the Ambulance. The Ambulance took the day in her stride with no damage except a coating of dust both inside and outside. We hoped that the following day would bring better roads.
We awoke in the Kazakh semi-desert prepared for a good day of driving. Rosie & Tim had stayed the night with us. We gave them a PMR so as they could join in the on-the-road chat. It was hot, Kazakhstan is hot. Day 14 was to be our first real taste of Kazakh roads. We found ourselves in a village named Makat with the intention of driving through it. The road seemingly stopped in Makat and after some local directed us down what was the most treacherous dirt track the country has to offer we were lost, well at least we knew we were not going the right way. This track was ridiculous, it was like a railway with a rail each side for the wheels of the Ambulance and a pit in the middle, except the mid pit was about 50cm deep, we did not want to fall in the pit as we would not be getting out in one piece. It was an unnerving experience. We turned back to Makat and found an alternative route only for it to be blocked by a Kaz-Trans-Gas installation in the middle of the road. We could not go around it, again we were stuck. Some local again pointed us at a dirt track, with no choice but to follow his instruction we headed for 2km down a dusty, sandy track to the road. We had found the road again after 2.5 hours. Excellent. We had a new problem though. This road was a farce, it was more like the aftermath of an airstrike. The potholes, millions of them were knee deep waiting to eat you at the earliest opportunity. We were making slow progress. We were averaging about 8mph until we saw how the locals do it. In Kazakhstan you don’t stick to the official roads you forge new ones running parallel. We noticed a 4×4 steaming towards us on one of these parallel roads and we headed down to it. It was not paved, just a sand track but it was significantly smoother. We were now doing up to 20mph. Tim, just a progress became much more swift, stalled the Beetle. It would not start. The battery was flat. There alternator was broken so we had to jump them. Not a problem but we all knew that they were running at risk with no battery power for lights or for starting the engine. They were at the start of a war with Kazakhstan. We pitched up once again in the desert watching the sunset behind us. It was a truly magical night with us all sat there, beer in hand watching the sun disappear over the horizon in the middle of nowhere. Ideal place to take a girlfriend although perhaps a little too much effort would be required for that. As darkness swept in we saw the stars appear. Billions and billions of stars. We could see the brightest to the faintest twinkle. It was incredible. It is an odd feeling to see stars like you have never seen before, I would invite everyone to Kazakhstan just so they could look up at night in wonder. We were sad to go to bed, but we were all knackered, it was at this point that everyone started to feel the strain of the trip. Everyday we were up early covering hundreds of miles and driving for hours.
We woke up outside the hotel and employed the services of Rosie and Tim’s shower. The rooms were nice but at $150 a night we could not justify the cost. We left early that morning and were on the road by 7am. We wanted to make the border rapidly and we did, reaching it within an hour. We got into the Russian side and passed through without issue. Rosie and Tim had a problem with their customs declaration that they did not have after an altercation coming into Russia, the guard failed to give it to them knowing they would have trouble leaving. The Micra and Rascal were still at the hotel at this point. We left Rosie and Tim agreeing to wait for them just inside Kazakhstan. We then drove about 10km through no man’s land and reached the Kazakh border. We were greeted in the queue by a young kid about ten who had his hand straight through the window wanting to grab whatever he could. We gave him a pen as it was all we had to hand. We then began the most farcical border crossing we have seen. The border buildings were all brand new and well equipped but we were not going to use these. We handed our passports over and got the ambulance through customs without even a glance inside. They simply did not care. The guy stamping the passports asked for a beer but we had none. Now the fun begins. To get the Kazakh customs declaration you park inside the border, walk thorugh the huge security gate to a shed in Kazakhstan where you wait for twenty minutes while the guy has lunch. Then he beckons you into the shed and fills out the declaration for you. He wanted $20, we gave him $10. All very official. Then you walk back into the border and get the declaration stamped. It is at this point you are allowed to leave. We then pulled out and waited for Rosie and Tim. Luckily they were only half an hour behind and this gave us a chance to make lunch. We pressed on until about 6pm that evening and after our first camel spotting we were pretty excited chaps. It was at this point in the journey we knew we were far from home. We had been gone nearly two weeks and we are driving the Kazakh roads which were pretty good at this stage surrounded by hump-backed desert animals. We were well on our way to Mongolia.
11am came round, we were an hour late. We limped out of reception in the hope of not being noticed (we paid the night before). A woman chased us screaming at us for being late. She wanted money. She could shove that request firmly up her Russian arse. After the night we had in her stinking hotel, there was not a chance we were parting with any more Roubles. We vowed to be more careful from then on. We wanted cheap but not infested cheap. In fact hostels and hotels of the same price varied so considerably throughout the trip one could not be sure what was going to happen. Requesting to see the room first is a wise move.
Volgograd by day is a nice city, full of old buildings and of course the huge Mother Russia statue. We had to see it and so spent the morning walking round it. She was huge, the biggest statue we have ever seen dominating the skyline reminding us of Russia’s immense power. The guards were well trained much like English Beefeaters, they did not move and one had the unfortunate job of wiping sweat from their brows.
We left Volgograd and headed for Astrachan where Kazakhstan awaited us. The Volgograd – Astrachan road was pretty good in terms of quality and we were surrounded by the most amazing flat countryside. It was devoid of all but grass and you could see for miles in the searing heat of the day. It was on this road we met up with the Bedford Rascal and the Nissan Micra again and also an old VW Beetle driven by Rosie & Tim. The Rascal and Micra had persisted at the border and after a call from the British Embassy in Moscow they were allowed through. We were now a convoy. There were an untold number of police checkpoints on this road for some reason, far more than anywhere else in Russia. We were stopped at most where they wanted us to part with cash. We refused to part with cash and so managed palm off some more 3 Euro bottles of Scotch. One stop sticks in my mind in particular. I (Matt) was summoned into the police minibus located at this checkpoint and it was full of other policemen going about their business. My captor opened his wallet bulging with Roubles and Dollars and said “money, money, money,” I said I had no money and at this point he looked around, leaned forward and whispered “whiskey, whiskey,” I had to contain my laughter after the guy brazenly asks for money and then slyly asks for whiskey as if its some forbidden, unmentioned fruit. I had whiskey, I gave him whiskey. By the end of the day we had the stops down to a tee. We found that if you made no effort to understand them and did not even pretend you understood, they would give up and let you on your way. I would say we were stopped about nine times that day, our documents were checked twice. Russian police. That night we reached Astrachan and the guys in the other three cars wanted a hotel. We went along and could not find anywhere cheap so we camped outside their hotel for the night.
We hit the Russian border filled with anticipation and nerves. We were forewarned of the problems we may face getting the ambulance into this state with all the equipment we had on board. After the Ukraine we were expecting the worst. En route to the border we bumped into two Mongol Rally cars; a Bedford Rascal and a Nissan Micra. We got in the queue, in fact we were the queue. We had to buy insurance at the border, a shady affair conducted in sheds. There were several companies offering the best price and we hit a shed. We were told the cost was $60 for 14 days, a flat rate. Some phone calls were made, we assume to the other insurance companies informing them to charge everyone the same to ensure none of them missed the opportunity to rip us off. The cost then doubled randomly and we had no choice but to pay as the border guard on the entrance gate was in on the scam and he would not let us proceed until we had the document. The Mongol Cars were more resilient and persisted. We will tell of their fate later. We continued wary into the Ukrainian exit and after $10 and a pack of Marlboro purchased from a Ukrainian Metro store we were on our way to the fabled Russian side. We pulled up and handed the documents over, a man searched the Ambulance briefly and asked us where we were going. Needless to say he was impressed. We were then directed to a shed with three blokes all smoking, we thought this is where we were going to get ripped off. The guy behind the desk asked for a piece of paper, stamped it and we were out the door half way through the process. So far so good. We then had to fill in the customs declaration which proved difficult as it was all in Cyrillic, they were out of English copies. Several attempts and the guy stopped shouting. We had done it, declaration completed successfully. We were then directed into Russia. Border problems they said, what problems? It was all a bit too easy we thought to ourselves but we were in Russia and the roads were remarkably good. So good that we drove through some fantastic countryside to Volgograd. We reached Volgograd late, had a McDonalds and set about finding a room for the night. Helpfully some locals that spoke English started chatting to us at a set of traffic lights and they took us to a hostel. For this they received an Ambulance to Mongolia t-shirt. They were pleased. We were less pleased when we saw the room. Reception was clean if not a little frosty but it was 2am. Be out by 10 they said. We walked up the stairs to the fifth floor to be greeted by an army of flying creatures. The windows were all open, no nets, lights burning away. The bugs loved it. We hoped the room would be less alive. We threw the door open and quickly closed it behind us to avoid any penetration. The room was hot and so we checked to see if we had netted windows, alas we did not. We turned the lights off and opened the window, the bugs must have heard us and in they came. We wrapped up tightly and hoped to have some skin left in the morning.
Next day came around with a bang and we were ready to visit Igor and retrieve the disabled Ambulance. Fortunately for us the garage was but a short distance away but unfortunately the Ambulance was far from ready. Igor had let us down. Apparently “the manager” did not have the required parts and we would have to wait as there was a national shortage of Fiat Ducato parts in the Ukraine. “This is not Germany,” Igor kept telling us. We waited and nothing happened. In order to speed things along we decided that we would not leave him alone until things got moving so we kept making suggestions until eventually he put us in a car, took us to a shop where we bought some parts and in no time he had built us the new part himself. Job done. He did a sterling job in the end all he needed was constant persuasion. While we enjoyed our stay in Kiev it felt like we had been there too long and we had lost some valuable time, time that could be better spent on the road. We paid Igor just over $200 not bad for a day and a half of work and a new specially fabricated part. We were pleased with the transaction. We hit the road at about 4pm keen to make up some miles. Unfortunately our keenness led us into the hands of the Ukrainian police. The police east of Poland like to make random stops and we were no exception. We were flagged down with the white baton as is standard issue to ex-soviet states. We stopped and the policeman made no effort to talk to us after ten seconds so we drove off. No screaming or shouting from behind and no Lada – Fiat police chase. All was well until the next checkpoint where the policeman stood in the middle of the road to ensure we stopped, he must have been brave. We stopped, he explained that his mate rang him to say stop those English guys cos they drove off. He was not too happy. We tried to explain it was all a big misunderstanding and after the threats of jail we agreed to pay him 10 Euros and continue on our way. The 10 Euros were of course for him and not the Ukrainian authorities. This was our first bribe, the first of many. Russia was going to hit us hard! That evening we found some old foundations to make camp on and surrounded by millions of mosquitoes we made some food and hit the Howling Moon.
We started a fresh search that led us back to Igor. Igor was to become a good Ukrainian friend. We told him to take out the air suspension on the left side and replace it with more conventional leaf springs. No problem he said. He rang “the manager,” and said the parts was on its way. Five hours later the part arrived but was by no means robust enough to support the weight of the ambulance as he demonstrated to us in a simple lets put it on and see what happens test. We waited around his garage for ages before eventually leaving him for the day after being assured it would be ready early next day. We stayed another night in Andrews Hotel and sampled the local night life.
A weather pattern was emerging in the Ukraine, all it did was rain and day 7 was no exception. We packed our soaked stuff away and turned on the heat hoping to reach Kiev by the afternoon. We passed dozens of fallen trees a result of the wind and several damaged buildings. The storm didn’t seem that bad from the comfort of our tent. We got to Kiev at about 3pm and began what was to become by far our longest garage hunt. We quickly found a Fiat garage who could not fix the problem and they directed us to another garage who also could not fix the suspension. This garage told us to go to a van specialist (things were looking up) and this is where we met Igor. Igor spoke a little English and told us that he also could not fix the problem and told us to visit Scania, the truck arm of Saab. We went to Scania and the guy we met proved very useful. He looked at the part we needed and tried to source it for an hour or so. While we waited they fed us. We had landed on our feet here. Unfortunately he returned with bad news and told us he too couldnot find the part nor fix the broken air bag. He said he knew somewhere that might be able to fix things and so he drove in his car and we followed. We first went to a shop to see if they had the part and then back to Igor, Kiev’s finest van mechanic. Igor explained that we had already visited him and he could not help. The man from Scania said farewell, not before leaving us his number in case we had any other problems. We were gutted. This was a turning point as we could not continue the trip without working suspension and not a soul in Kiev seemed to be able to fix the problem. We found a hotel for the night and planned a new search the following day.
That morning was our first glimpse at the Ukraine and our first real sign that we were leaving the developed world. The houses had turned into shacks and the roads had turned into ill maintained tarmac minefields full of potholes. We were headed for L’viv. A must see town according to our guide book. L’viv was a dump. The streets were all dug up, the town was dirty and there was nothing to see. It was raining still and we decided to make a hasty exit after finding some internet to update the website blog. We were now headed for Kiev and hoped it would be a marked improvement on L’viv. Kiev was a day and a half away and so we wanted to make some decent progress. Initially the roads out of L’viv were better than those into the place but this soon changed and progress became slow. The weather was still terrible and we were making little progress. The roads were full of big Russian trucks, totally incapable of any speed up hills and the police were everywhere waiting to catch us at their earliest convenience. We could not finad anywhere to cmap that night so we pulled down a short trak off the side of the road expecting to be shouted at but fortunately the shouts never came.
After four smooth days on the road something was bound to go wrong and it did. Before we turned in for the night we heard a hissing coming from the rear of the ambulance and assumed it was a puncture that we would deal with in the morning. Morning came and the tyre was still fully inflated, the only other air in the Ambulance was in the suspension. So we turned on the air compressor and listened for the hiss. The hiss came and we struggled to find the exact source and so decided to remove the wheel for a closer look. Unfortunately we were camped on a slight incline. We slid the jack under the belly of the Ambulance and proceeded to raise her up. Due to the incline once one of the wheels left the ground the vehicle rolled about 5cm enough to crush the jack and leave it wedged under the vehicle. This was indeed a problem. We summoned a local mechanic who raced to the scene in his little Fiat and whipped out a more robust jack. He once again raised the 3.5 tonne vehicle and retrieved our now crushed and mangled jack. He was not capable of fixing the leak in the suspension bags but directed us to a “Fiat” garage that was capable. We drove there, Ambulance lop-sided due to the lack of rear left suspension. We explained the problem using our best Polish and international hand gestures. Five of them spent around an hour and a half trying to fix the problem but said all they could manage was to stem the leak and that it would become more of a problem later. With little we could personally do we paid them $20 dollars and went into town to buy a new jack. Back on the road we knew that the suspension although now semi-working would last but a few hundred miles. How would we get it sorted as everyone that saw the arrangement shrugged their shoulders and said that they had not seen anything like it before. We decided to plough on to Kiev, our next capital city and the best hope of fixing the problem.
Late afternoon we reached our first real border that signified an end to the EU and the end of developed Europe. We waited in line for 3 hours to get to the border and passed out of Poland with ease. Getting into the Ukraine was to be our hardest and most fraught border of the trip. We rolled up to the STOP sign and the Ukrainians went to work on us. We handed over our documents after they shouted at us for not being swift enough. Documents checked we were allowed to roll on for 10 metres to customs where they thoroughly searched the vehicle. Every cupboard, box and bag was opened and its contents checked. They were looking for drugs. They pointed at the false ceiling indicating that they were thinking about taking it down to see what was behind it. This would have been a major issue as it would have ruined the interior of the ambulance. Fortunately they decided not to do this. They then wanted us to fill in the obligatory customs declarations stating what we had with us and whether we should be paying taxes on any of it. We ticked all the “No,” boxes. Then they had another look inside hoping to catch us out on the customs declarations. They managed not to find anything and eventually they decided to let us proceed into their wonderful drug free country. The rain was pouring and the wind was howling along the entry road into Ukraine and we were knackered after the days events. We decided to find a motel and the best we could find, well the first we found was terrible. It would do. They had secure parking and so we parked up and went to bed in the midst of the storm.
We awoke in a field again (something that would happen all to often on the trip) and got an early start determined to eat some miles whilst the roads were good. We made it to the motorway and another petrol station where some Mongol Ralliers had a run in with the police as foreign cars are supposed to buy road tax. These guys had not bought this tax, nor had we and nor had anyone else. It was something of a state secret. We spent $8 at the next petrol station and bought the tax sticker so as to avoid any problems with the Czech police. We learned that the police fined the car in the first petrol station when they stopped to chat with us about it a few miles down the road. Having watched “Long Way Round,” we wanted to visit the Church of Bones and so went on the hunt for it. Our maps pointed it out in a small village not too far off our intended course. Locating was initially a problem as it was not signposted locally nor did anyone seem to know where it was. After some careful navigation we stumbled across the place down a residential street. In we ventured not sure what to expect. Needless to say we were not disappointed. Imagine a church literally wall to wall, floor to ceiling full of human bones arranged in various patterns and shapes. Chandeliers of bones, tables of bones and wall hangings of bones. The church was apparently a good place to be buried back in the day and with its popularity came a burden on grave space so the remains of the dead were dealt with more creatively in order to maximise the limited space available. We stayed for half an hour and carried on our way.
That evening we made it to Krakow, late, and camped just outside the city. The next day was to be full of problems.
This was our final morning in Germany and we were headed for the Czech Republic in the hope of catching the “Mongol Rally” party in Klatovy. The rally set off the day after us and as we had spent the day in Gey we were roughly in the same place as most of their entrants. We saw plenty of Mongol Rally cars en route to Klatovy most saluting us with a beep and us acknowledging them with a blip. The German and Czech roads were flawless, something we would come to dream of later in the trip. We made Klatovy after ten hours of driving and a rather embarrassing petrol station incident, Having just crossed into the Czech Republic, a non Euro country we decided to fill up with fuel and managed a good 80 litres. Foolishly we assumed that they would accept Visa, they did not. Nor did they want to take Euros or Dollars. A predicament we were in. This petrol station was in the middle of nowhere and we had 80 unpaid litres of diesel in the tank. Charlie had to stay behind while I drove to the nearest town, 15km away and hoped for a cashpoint. I found one and it took our card. 30Km and an hour later I was back at the fuel station with cash to pay and to retrieve Charlie. We were now back on the road and headed for the party. We reached the Mongol Rally party at a castle in the countryside and camped up with them in a huge field accommodating 200 of their cars and us. We chatted to lots of ralliers that night and learned of the early problems many of them had had with their sub 1-litre engined cars being thrashed through Europe to reach this event. We made some new friends and met some Lancaster University students who were on the rally. The party was pretty good, not up to Gey standards but it was certainly an opportunity to learn from others and listen to the folklore surrounding the countries we were destined to visit.
We awoke to wonderfully sunny day in Gey with rather hazy heads. The Germans were already up making the final preparations for the festival. We had a day to kill while we waited for the festivities to begin. A bike ride was in order around the stunning Eiffel countryside. I would recommend this to anyone but make sure you are prepared for the hills. The hills were huge but the reward at the top almost certainly made the strain worthwhile. We stopped off a few times en route to stock up on Riesen chocolate chews and water. It was a hot day and after we returned from the ride the heavens opened and we had a shower, our first shower of the trip in the rain. It was awesome. Evening drew round and we were far from the only people in Gey by this time. People had been arriving all day and staring bemused at this strange Ambulance with a tent perched on the roof. At about 7pm we wandered down the field to the marquee to see the organisers had done a brilliant final days work setting up all the lights, a big screen and the free bar for the Gey Heavy Sound Festival. We paid our 15 Euros to get in which allowed us access to free food and beer all night. Luckily Germans speak impeccable English and we could answer the barrage of questions about what we were up to, why we were in Gey and where we were going. Everyone was extremely friendly if not a little surprised by our planned jaunt and wished us well. All in all a brilliant start to what was to become a seven week adventure.
We got up early and began final preparations for the trip. We still had lots to do as we had not packed our own belongings, printed out the Ambulance insurance documents, travel insurance documents or indeed the customs documentation for the Mongolian border. Amongst all this printing chaos we still had to email parents all kinds of contact information should they need to get hold of us in an emergency. We also had the foresight to email ourselves all the important documents we may need for the trip should we lose any en route.
Once we had completed all this messing about we were ready to strap in and depart, we made a start line on a North London road out of duck tape (never underestimate the need for this wonderful tape) and waved farewell to parents and bemused onlookers. A quick blip of the siren and we were gone, headed for the Channel Tunnel. Determined to make good time, we made use of the 2.8TDi engine and raced to the terminal catching the 14:20 train to Calais. We reached Calais and made our first time adjustment of 1 hour; the first of eight time zones we would be crossing on the trip to Mongolia. We stocked up on bribes in a French hypermarket, purchasing 3 Euro bottles of “Scotch” to give to awkward Eastern European and Russian police.
From the hypermarket we sailed through the French, Belgian, Dutch and German countryside covering several hundred miles destined for Gey. Gey is a small German village that reared its head on the Channel Tunnel crossing whilst we were route planning for the day. It was decided for obvious reasons we would stop there for the night. We reached Gey at about 9pm and passed a sign which read “camping,” excellent. We drove into the field and found someone important to talk to. It transpired that a rock festival was taking place the following day and the organisers of this invitation only festival were have a pre festival party. They invited us to join them and we duly did . We drank some Efes beer and ate lots of German meat. After this they invited us to play a German drinking game called “flunkyball,” in which there are two teams of four who face each other about twenty metres apart and in turn throw a ball at a bottle located n the middle of the playing arena. Each member of both teams begins with an unopened bottle of beer on the floor in front of them, the first team to knock the middle bottle over has to quickly open their beer and drink as much as possible before the opposing team can right the upturned bottle. The first team to empty all their beers wins. This differs from your standard English drinking game whereby you normally want to get your opponent drunk before yourself. Needless to say we destroyed the Germans at their own game. They kept challenging us in an attempt to win back national pride but a Lancaster University degree saw us proud and we lost not a single game.
Well after our sucessful launch day we are now slightly changing the interior of the Ambulance to make it a bit more comfortable for the journey and also so that we do not damage any of the medical equipment which we are sealing for transit.
We have constructed a box over the strecher and also added a shelf at the back of the ambulance for the Storm Cases so that they do not move around on the bumpy (understatement) Kazakh and Mongol roads.
Further to this we have been frantically gathering parts for the vehicle such as filters, lubricants and other bits and bobs. We have also been sorting out the final paperwork and organising Travel insurance, something we had overlooked until a couple of days ago, we have now got travel insurance. Fortunately we applied for EHIC cards ages ago which means we will at least survive Europe (well most of it). International driving permits have also come into our posession after a frantic trip around local post offices. It would seem they choose the most random post office for this service.
After a hectic week of fitting a roofrack, more lights and CB Radio the Mongolia Rally launch was upon us. We met up with the Mongolian Ambassador pictured below.
The sponsor logos arrive for the vehicle. We still have another three to come but they will be here on friday hopefully. Getting them on was challenging as was picking the right layout.
A lot has been going on over the last couple of weeks so apologies for the slow updates. We have sorted out the logos now and they should all be ready for application next week. Today we added some more lettering to the sides of the Ambulance and the University logo was also applied today. So here are some photos of the Ambulance in its current state…
Right i have no pictures as yet but i will sort this out later today or tomorrow. Today we collected a spinal board, first aid kits and some catalogues (cheers guys) from SP Services. We also got some more stars of life to add to the bonnet and sides of the vehicle.
Told you i would get a picture of the spinal board up at some point. So here it is…
Well we have lots to tell you this week. I will start with the battenburg. Having decided it would be sensible to apply new battenburg ourselves, we ordered a roll of green vinyl. It then arrived and we went about applying it, spurred on by our success with the lettering we thought it would be easy, i mean they are only rectangles. So we measured up and cut out all the slices we would need. Then the fun started, as it was near impossible to get on straight and level and bubble free. We obviously threw quite alot of the stuff away as once its stuck it doesn’t peel off well. So we practiced some more and eventually got a system going and managed to get it up to a decent standard. Here is a photo for you…
I have also just realised that while there is an awning post, it does not show any pictures of the awning deployed. So here are two…
The sides for the awning will be arriving tomorrow hopefully, so then it will be a lovely “treatment room.”
Ludo McGurk kindly sent us a new auto eject socket complete with the lead. The socket essentially allows us to plug the ambulance into the mains supply to charge the batteries and run the internal lighting. The auto eject bit means that when it is in Mongolia being used as an ambulance the crews will not have to unplug it as when the engine is started the plug fires itself out.
We also fitted a new lock on the back doors to scupper the adventures of any would be international thieves. It was a pain to fit as it was awkward to get inside the door to tighten the bolts. I cut myself doing it. But it is robust and provides that extra level of vehicle security for the trip.
And finally how could i forget this…
We definatley did not need to call the AA to pull us out of that hole.
Ok, the other day saw the arrival of the first batch of lettering. As you can see from the photos its professionally done by myself and Charlie. The star of life (bule starry shaped thing) should appear on both sides of the ambulance but charlie had some sticky issues and so our 2 stickers were reduced to one (another is being ordered). The letterign was surprisingly easy to apply and we managed to get it on nice and level which was a bonus. Now we are just waiting on Signs of Life to deliver the next batch which will comprise large lettering for the side of the ambulance and sponsors logos which will make them happy.
