It didn’t take long for us to reach the Russian border once we left Semey this morning. Funnily enough, that actually was a bit of a problem for us because we didn’t have a chance to blow our last remaining tenge on candy and beer at the last shop before the border, as was our custom. We did have the pleasure of meeting Raf at the border, who was a Belgian bicyclist riding from Brussels to Ulaanbataar. We were stuck at the border with Raf because we had the unfortunate timing to arrive as the night shift of border patrol was ending. At 8:30AM the border officer told Raf that he only had thirty minutes left on his shift and he wanted to spend those relaxing rather than working. We all waited for thirty minutes, and we excitedly greeted the new border officer who showed up exactly at 9 o’clock. Imagine our chagrin when he told us he had just woken up, and it would probably be about half an hour until he got his coffee and had some food. Exactly an hour after we arrived at 8:30, the morning shift finally took our paperwork and admitted us at 9:30. For the second time on our journey, we were back in Russia!
Pretty soon over the border we recognized two other Rally cars even though we couldn’t tell who was in them, so we pulled them over discover our crazy South Africans who had cooked up breakfast back in Almaty! They were a part of There and Bactrian, a team of two South Africans, a Brit, and an Aussie, and they were convoying with Geographically Displaced, a team of large Norwegian men in a very small car. We quickly joined their convoy, and made the all-important stop of the day: the tire shop. The Mongol Rally can be described as a tour of the world’s tire shops, and somehow we had made it this far without getting to visit any ourselves. For the exorbitant price of 100 rubles (a little over $3) we got our tire fixed, while each of the other teams also got their tires in tip-top shape in preparation of entering Mongolia tomorrow. After a longer stop than was expected, we were on our way towards the Altai Mountains with our new friends!
The sunrise woke us up, so we got an early start to the day. Since there are frequent ramps to drive up and check under the car all along the highway, we made use of one and checked out the undersides of the Panda and the Thunderyaks’ Kangoo. After what we had driven through, they were pretty dirty but otherwise intact, so we continued down the road. To no surprise, as we rolled into Actobe, the police pulled us over again, this time slightly more interested in seeing some paperwork but not so interested as to push us for it. We left the roadside police to go to the police station to find out how and where to register our visas. They directed us to the immigration department, which was closed for lunch.
Since the officials were taking a lunch break, we thought it was time for one as well. After asking around, we got directions from a nice man named Aslan to a restaurant in the basement of a hotel called Sultan. There, we spoke on the phone with someone who spoke a little English; by the end of the conversation, we still weren’t sure what we were ordering, but went for it anyways. Half an hour later, a feast arrived with chicken, potatoes, rice, salad, and a piece of salmon. Far more in need of a food-coma nap than accomplishing tasks, we went to the immigration department where we waited in line for nearly an hour until a woman opened the covered glass window and took our passports. In the meantime, the Cads and Bounders arrived, and the teams had plenty of time to catch up.
Much later than we had planned, we left Actobe heading southeast while the Cads stayed in town to get their car issues sorted. Not far outside the city, we were thrilled to see a gathering of Rally cars at a roadside pull off (complete with one of the aforementioned ramps!)! As they were finishing their dinner, we shared road stories with Don Tiki, the Yard Monkeys, and From Denmark to Mongolia. The last team had been on their own for the entire Rally after having car problems in Berlin, and they had been quite isolated as they took the crazy road that we turned away from in Makat, which took them three full days to travel. So, we added them to our convoy and set off for Aralsk. After a market stop, we drove into the night until finding a camping spot about an hour north of our target city. There, we got to know the new guys as we checked out the stars.
There are so many wonderful things about traveling with a big convoy. Getting a timely start in the morning/early afternoon after a party is not one of them. It must have been 2:00 or 3:00 PM by the time we rolled out of Astrakhan, but we made it out of the city eventually and on our way towards the Kazakh border. The unmarked and slightly confusing roads were a hint of what lay ahead, but we enjoyed traveling over a floating bridge to cross a river that we followed south then north then south again before making the turn that led to forward progress. Just before the border, we made a shockingly efficient gas stop (though I’m sure it did not seem that way to the Russian family waiting for a pump behind us). While all of the passengers got out of their cars and meandered about as usual, the drivers took care of business until George of Sitting Thunder pulled out the megaphone and encouraged, “Please return to your vehicles! Please return to your vehicles!” A-ha, the organization/cat-herding we had needed all day!
Life with the convoy...
We arrived to lines at the border on the Russian side and took it as an opportunity to play with our convoy. The Frisbees, footballs (in both the American and British senses), and GoPros came out, and we no longer cared about the lines. To advance the Panda in line, Charla even attempted driving! With ease, even though everyone was filming, she put the Panda into first gear and inched forward. When she didn’t stall, the cameras went away and the toys came back out until it was our time to cross.
Clutch cable, what clutch cable?
After officially leaving Russia and a fairly long no-man’s-land, we arrived on the Kazakh side of the border. Even though the border guard found Charla’s passport too thick and annoying, we were soon into Kazakhstan and a whole different phase of the Rally. The road quality changed immediately, and we found ourselves faced with some sizable potholes, broken pavement, and uncertainty with directions (not to mention with the animals being herded past). The Cads had struggled with clutch issues for most of the Rally, and the first 100 kilometers into Kazakhstan were no exception. We trailed behind as they made it to a mechanic, who upon inspecting the situation, pulled out their snatched clutch cable. Unfortunately, the mechanic did not have a replacement nor was one available for some time. Three aggressive, homophobic Russian young men got involved as well and kept asking us for iPhones, which they argued would also be a payment for the clutch cable, though they had no relationship to the Kazakh mechanic. So, we got out of town without a clutch cable for the Cads but with everything else luckily intact. The sun was setting as we dealt with the difficult situation, but the convoy agreed to push on to Atyrau that night. It was a late night of driving on some pretty iffy roads, but we made it with the help of walkie-talkie conversations and a bag of chocolate croissants.
Today’s lesson: Kazakh policemen are some of the nicest people in the country. Chocolate croissants from Kazakh gas stations are surprisingly tasty.
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…
Ahh, Romanian countryside...
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.
These little Pandas had no idea what was in store!
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.
Beautiful cruise through Moldova
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.
We even managed to squeeze in a walk along the Thames!
Today was the day we got our Panda! We rode a double-decker bus from Purfleet out to the suburb of Grays, where we had arranged to meet the representatives of our car purchasing agency with our car. Shortly after getting off the bus, a blue Panda came driving into the parking lot and we immediately fell in love. After a few necessities of purchasing a car (counting cash, signing documents, etc.), it was time to hit the road for the very first time! Our first drive on the wrong side of the road went well, and we even negotiated a roundabout with ease! It was tougher to get used the transmission; Chase has never really driven stick before, and the Panda turned into Chase’s do-it-yourself learn-on-the-go driving school.
John, Chase, and their amazing Pandas!
There were surprisingly few stalls as we headed straight into Central London traffic during rush hour. Unfortunately, our map was not detailed enough to include street names, and we fulfilled our team name of “Team Turnagain.” We’re fairly sure we fulfilled all stereotypes of Americans driving in England as we tried to navigate the one way streets, were surprised as we passed landmarks of the city like St. Paul’s and the British Museum, and may or may not have found ourselves screaming in three-lane roundabouts. Though Chase is used to driving in New York City traffic, London traffic defies logic. The roads turn unexpectedly or become one-way against you when you least expect it. On a positive note, it was easy to learn to drive in London because traffic was so insane that no one was following the rules of the road; rather than thinking Chase was learning how to drive, other drivers just assumed he was a rude driver and tolerated him. After taking a scenic tour of London, including Oxford Circus twice and Picadilly Circus in the middle of a film premiere, we finally made it back to John’s flat to pick up our camping gear that had been stowed there. After spending an evening with John, it was time to get out of the city; we were off for Brighton!