Today’s lesson: If you hear it’s an “easy day trip”—whether from fellow Ralliers or Google Maps—it’s not. Prepare for hell.
Ending Point: N45°35 E28°35
Distance Traveled: 453.3 miles
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We woke up with a plan to head a little further south to Vama Veche, a hippie beach town we had heard good things about from Rally Veterans (the beach party used to be there) and from current Ralliers who had somehow already stopped there. With itchy feet to be on the road again, we talked to the Long Time No Sea girls and decided to go north for what we thought would be an easy day trip to Odessa. We couldn’t have been more wrong, but we’ll get to that later… The day started out wonderfully. Charla made her scrambled eggs, and we packed up camp. We left Oha Beach and drove through scenic coastal Romania. Reaching the town with thought would lead into a National Park and a border crossing into the Ukraine, we realized the crossing was impassable by car with the help of a kind couple in a Lidl parking lot. So, we headed to Galati for the nearest border crossing, after discovering the boat at Isaccea was just for commercial purposes and then taking a different boat across the Danube and into Galati—this just after the “highway” dead-ended into a ferry terminal. Getting on the ferry was an orderly, timely affair. You could tell the ferrymen had arranged cars on a boat a time or two. Getting off the ferry was every-man-for-himself with every car driving quickly to get through the small space and onto the dock. We’re surprised we didn’t get separated from the girls then. There had been no street signs to indicate major highways in Bucharest, so why did we hope to see them here? We passed Around the World by Trike as we entered downtown Galati, and seeing both team members throw up their arms in a “Where the hell are we?” gesture was not inspiring, neither was the fact that we couldn’t physically get across enough lanes of traffic to talk to them about the journey. We made two stops in town—one at a nice hotel and one at a duty free shop on the Danube—and received contradicting directions. Somehow, we made sense of them and got onto the road out of the city, which soon led us out of the country. Getting out of Romania was a breeze for our EU pals, but we had to wait about an hour. The funny thing about waiting an hour at the Romanian border was that we had no idea whether we were going into Moldova or the Ukraine based on the maps we had, in which the three countries converge at one point. Then we had to wait another half an hour to get into Moldova. The two miles we drove in Moldova were quite nice. Then, the real adventure began. We’re not sure we even have words to describe the Moldovan-Ukrainian border. Our first indications were talking to Ralliers already at the border that had been there for between two to thirty hours. We certainly did not want to fall into the latter group’s case. In the three hours we were at the border, we managed to have the car fully searched, sign legal documents under duress without knowing what they said, nearly go to prison, and run out of cash. We finally crossed much too late in the night and found the girls anxiously awaiting us a few miles away. They had talked to another Rally team for part of the time we were stuck at the border and were hoping to meet up with them. In the dark, a wrong turn led us off into the middle of nowhere, so Pandaland stopped and cooled it for a couple hours. Today’s lesson: If you hear it’s an “easy day trip”—whether from fellow Ralliers or Google Maps—it’s not. Prepare for hell. Starting Point: N44°16 E28°37
Ending Point: N45°35 E28°35 Distance Traveled: 453.3 miles
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We had been thinking about this day for months, maybe even years: the start of the Mongol Rally! It was really happening! The morning was a blur of packing up, stickering, networking, and eating breakfast sandwiches. Then, everyone came together for a series of announcements and an awards ceremony. There were the expected awards like for best-outfitted car and most money raised for charity. The most memorable award was for the over-prepared car; the prize was a large golden TV to take with them on their roof rack. Following the ceremony, there was the traditional joust in front of the castle with two men on horseback and then a less traditional joust with one man on horseback and one on top of a car. The knight on horseback won… Perhaps an omen for the Rally? We hope not. After the ceremony and much anticipation, we finally rolled up the starting platform. No one could forget our start. We were the only team to stall three times getting up the ramp! We lived up to British stereotypes of Americans in that moment, but at least we were memorable, though perhaps less so than the team that had a mother get on the microphone to say goodbye. Leaving Bodiam, we followed Scarlett and Tom to Dover—a short hour-long drive full of Rally cars. At the ferry terminal, we accidentally separated from our navigators as we tried to pick up our tickets at the wrong building. The day changed from there, as we couldn’t possibly meet up with them in Frankfurt, Germany, at a pub whose name we didn’t know. We were lucky, however, to get on an earlier ferry to Calais with lots of other Ralliers. In the waiting lanes for the boat, we met Duncan and Jared from New Zealand and decided to aim for Luxembourg for the night. On board, we solidified our plans as we watched the white cliffs of Dover disappear into the distance. Just before leaving the ferry, we met Dick (we individually commented on his nice car) and he gave us better direction for the afternoon. We landed in France and met the Kiwis at the Calais Wine Superstore just outside the dock. The drive through France was beautiful and easy, until we were stopped in traffic for an hour, and then the drive through Belgium was almost as nice despite the change in road surface quality. Our delay in traffic put us behind in our plan for Luxembourg, so we found a camping spot in Belgium for the night and made some dinner while enjoying Belgian beers. Starting Point: N50°49 W00°18
Ending Point: N50°10 E05°22 Distance Traveled: 254.1 miles This morning we were delighted to wake up and experience the bora, or the strong winds that Trieste is famous for. The bora is strongest and most common in the winter, so we were lucky to experience it at all! When the bora is really ripping, seawater has actually been known to wash completely over the Molo Audace (the seawall we were on), and in the winter when it freezes it creates incredible wind-blown ice sculptures. We had noticed that all through town the sidewalks are lined with metal chains; it turns out the chains are there so that when the wind is blowing the pedestrians have something to hold on to! We didn’t get the full strength of Trieste’s bora, but our taste of it was pretty exciting. The wind died down later in the day, which worked well with our plans to go running along the sea wall as we had been most days of the week. At the end of our run, we discovered the Molo Audace partially blocked off and a crowd gathered in the Piazza. That evening was one of the launches for Dona Sangue Coast to Coast, a blood donation drive across the country that involved nightly music, a sailboat, and some talented drummers and flagthrowers. We joined the crowd in the Piazza for the performance, which led us back to the sea wall to hear Mike Sponza in concert at sunset. We stuck around after sunset for fireworks over the sea, a perfect next-to-last night farewell to the city.
Fourth of July? Oops. We didn't exactly celebrate Independence Day this year (in fact, Charla hasn't for a while now), but we did enjoy another wonderful day in Trieste. As usual, Charla went to lectures and her seminar during the day while Chase explored the city. When Charla and Chase met back up after the afternoon seminar, it was time for dinner and we checked out the neighborhood by the Grand Canal. We found Fratelli di Bufala, which turned out to be a real treat. The food was great, and the view along the canal at sunset was not too shabby. Charla loved her margherita pizza, and Chase had a bit of a culinary adventure. The server pointed to an item on the menu that looked good, and was priced reasonably, so Chase just went for it. It turned out to be some amazing meat dish that defies explanation! A calzone filled with mozzarella and topped by strips of meat with shredded parmesan, it was a delicious meat feast! After dinner, Charla went down the street to a performance given by Irish tenor Noel O'Grady, whom we'd heard earlier in the week at our Irish sing-a-long. Following the concert, we were hopeful for another spectacular night at Barge Bar with Joyce School friends in tow. Unfortunately, the barge was closed. We moved closer to the Piazza Unità d'Italia to Bar Unità, where we shared Peroni and pelinkovac (a Croatian liquor that tastes remarkably like a bar of Ivory Spring soap) with the group.
Once again while Charla was attending her morning lectures, Chase sought out the unique museums of Trieste. The first one he found was the Museo Ferroviario di Campo Marzio, the museum about the railroad in Trieste. Housed in an old train station, the museum housed four tracks worth of old and interesting trains in the railyard. After spending time in the sun poking around the unique trains, Chase ended up at the Civico Museo del Mare, or the museum of the sea. This museum was focused on Trieste’s maritime history, but was surprising in that it told the entire story using intricately detailed model ships. Following the afternoon Ulysses seminar, Charla met up with Chase to go on a walking tour of Joyce’s Trieste that included the Greek Orthodox Church of Saint Nicholas, the Berlitz School (where both James and Stanislaus worked as English teachers), and one of the many apartments where James Joyce lived with Nora Barnacle in the city. Joyce’s Trieste was surely different from the one we experienced, but a cosmopolitan air persists in this city whose nationality used to change frequently. The windy backstreets of the city seem unchanged from the turn of the century aside from some of the shops and restaurants that populate them. We returned down the alley of Osteria da Marino to find piadine at La Piadíneria. As a student in Bologna, Charla adored these flat bread sandwiches stuffed with veggies and cheese (and meat for those so inclined), and after finding piadine nearby, we made this café a favorite stop in the city.
After piadine, Chase went for a twilight run along the sea wall while Charla attended Michael Longley’s reading at Civico Museo Teatrale “Carlo Schmidl.” The Museo is located right along the small Grand Canal, so the barge bar at Caffé Rossi was an ideal choice for an evening social beverage. We finally fulfilled Charla’s wish of a full English breakfast when we woke up the next morning and discovered the feast that Samantha had prepared for us. After devouring a mountain of delicious food (including black pudding), it was time to explore the city of Bristol! Bristol seemed like the Portland, Oregon, of England. There was street art everywhere, including some of Banksy’s original works from back in the day. Additionally, 70% of Bristol’s retail shops are independent and local, which creates an environment of unique and interesting shopping. (As a matter of fact, when the first Tesco opened in Bristol, they rioted and burned it down! That spirit continues with anti-Tesco graffiti still visible around town.) Our exploration took us through Saint Nicholas Market downtown, an open-air market consisting of Bristol’s largest collection of independent traders. The environment was very hectic, so instead of hanging around we decided to go from there down to the harbor. The harbor was beautiful on the sunny day, with boats galore enjoying the calm water. After a snack at the harbor, it was unfortunately time to head back to London and get ourselves to Heathrow airport and prepare for our flight to Italy.
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