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Waking to our final Mongolian morning we packed away and headed to the border, sad to be leaving Mongolia and heading back west, but looking forward to some nice smooth tarmac. Mongolia had been a challenge but certainly an enjoyable one! Not surprisingly, Mongolian customs were nice and friendly, but, again no surprise, severely lacking signs or anything that resembled a logical order for getting all the paperwork completed. We bundled our way through the Mongolian side of things fairly quickly but we were none too optimistic about getting through the Russian side anytime soon given our previous experience of their border entry process. In stark contrast to the Mongolians the Russians were very efficient, and we had from experience to answer 'no' to all the customs questions (including 0 to 'number of items of luggage') to speed the process up, and made doubly sure we had our Migration Cards issued! We continued along the drive-through style crossing and watched the car in front, boot overflowing with bags and cases, be fully unloaded into a side room and the car be subject to a thorough search. This could take forever if they do this to us, not to mention the number of things we have falsely declared 'no' to on the customs forms. The car in front was loaded back up, now it was our turn, we moved the car along the queue and pulled up by the customs officers fearing the worst. We must have looked like honest chaps, as, with no more than a cursory glance in the back, we were waved through and back on Russian soil, this time with the all important Migration Cards! A quick U-turn to buy forgotten insurance and we were away, with tarmac underfoot we powered on towards Lake Bikal, noting the immediate change in the countryside that accompanied the border, and happy that we had made it through Mongolia with minimal damage, all was well. Suddenly a loud CRACK shattered the mood and, to some extent, the windscreen. A stone, kicked up by an oncoming vehicle had left us with a golf ball sized crack in the glass, thankfully not in the direct field of view but annoying nonetheless. With spirits slightly dampened we drove on and made camp in a hollow a top of a hill, nice and hidden from the outside world but unfortunately not from the mozzies! To reward the car for his good work getting us through Mongolia we started the day by treating him to a full service, including the messy jobs of new filters and oils. We cleaned up as best as possible for a stop off in Ulaan Ude to use the internet and to grab a bite to eat. The crack in the windscreen was also starting to spread so, upon spotting a large building blazoned with car related pictures and manufacturers’ logos, we stopped to see if we could find anything to help. Not as it looked from the outside, once in we were greeted by numerous small glass fronted shops, many of which closed and several selling the same things as each other. We managed to find one open shop, bought some resin for the glass and even had our photos taken by the women staffing the place before we were allowed to leave. Having escaped the shop keepers we drove on, reaching the shores of Bikal after dark, set up camp and called it a night.
The weeks on the road have definitely been having a negative impact on our formerly decent fitness levels and, despite good intensions, it is proving very difficult to get any sort of regular exercise into our routine (the expanding waist lines can back this up). This morning with a nice but a tad litter strewn wooded area to train in and the lake to bathe in afterward, we had no excuses. Al headed off for a run whilst Dave improvised a workout routine from the bits of kit we had in the car. Unfortunately the follow-up swim in the lake was scuppered by the 50m wide stretch of marsh at this part of the vast shore and we had to resort to squirting water from plastic bottles for a shower. Lake Bikal is huge; it contains one fifth of the worlds unfrozen fresh water and in places is over a mile deep, and despite the fairly cold weather we were disappointed not to get to bath in its supposedly magical waters.
Much of the rest of the day was spent driving. With the weather turning colder and wetter, and with the trees starting to fade to orange, this part of Siberia was definitely turning autumnal. For us, living out of the back of the land rover, good weather is key as with not much inside room we need to be able to use outside too. This, and the lack of enticing sights in the area, resulted in the decision to press on through Russia, to the Ukraine and then south to the Middle East and the promise of some sunshine.
We made camp by a river where Al set about whipping up a delicious treat of noodles and spam and Dave set to work on the temperamental central locking. Taking advantage of the on-site running water provided by the river, we started the day by giving the car a much needed wash, restoring it to something like its former glory, then grabbed some breakfast and got back on the road for another planned uneventful day of driving. We were hoping to use this time to reduce the backlog of diary entries we were now amassing at an alarming rate and, in addition to getting some diaries written, we would not be creating any new stories to write about later, helping us further with our work! The day passed and light turned to dark, we stopped to fill both our stomachs and the fuel tank. Brimming with our respective fuels we got back on the sometimes excellent, sometimes non-existent highway until we could find a suitable camping spot. A particularly smooth section of road had us cruising along nicely until, without any warning, the tarmac stopped, giving way to a hundred meter stretch of broken road, huge pot holes, and, for some unknown reason, many large boulders! We crashed onto the now nonexistent road with a spine jarring thud, definitely not good for us or the car! Driving these roads is hard enough in the day, not to mention at night; we decided to stop as soon as there was a place to camp. The horse had already bolted. At the wheel, Al noticed the car pulling heavily to the left - 'this can't be good!' We pulled to the side of the apocalyptic road to inspect the damage. Already a pool of oil was collecting near the front of the car, a small amount of smoke rising from the axle. On hands and knees, in the dirt, with his head under the car, Dave started laughing. 'Don't worry, we've only gone and snapped the axle in two!'
This is really not good, we were in the middle of Siberian nowhere, about 40 miles since the last town, completely immobile, and even if we could flag down a vehicle and communicate to them the problem we can't be towed anyway. Given the circumstances we were both remarkably chipper, we decided not to worry, get some sleep, we will deal with this in the morning. It'll be fine!
After quickly putting out the warning triangle and the high-vis. vests (the last thing we needed was a truck to hit us on the unlit road) we set up the bed and attempted to get some sleep. Safe to say it had not been the best nights sleep with the next day such an unknown. We were up with the sun and planning a day of flagging down any passing car or truck, really hoping for a car transporter with space for the Land Rover, or at least someone who was willing to take one of us the nearest town to get help. Our worst case scenario was to remove the axle in sittue and take it to the nearest town, which was at most 40 miles behind us, where we might be able to get it welded. We had armed ourselves the previous night with a crude written translation of the problem and were ready, once we had eaten breakfast, to start haranguing passers-by for assistance. As we rummaged in the cool box for some tolerable milk a couple of guys turned up in a Subaru Forrester Turbo, and, leaning out of the window one of them sang out the memorable words 'hallo! Problem? You need help?' like music to our ears. We all gathered round the sorry looking Disco for a closer inspection and decided it was worth trying to slowly limp to their home town of Krasnoyarsk, the only sizeable city in the region and a mere 100 or so miles away! The English speaking Maks assured us everything would be fine and his companion Vovo set about removing the front prop-shaft for us and attempted to brace the axle with the help of some passing truck drivers and a monster ratchet strap, but to no avail on the latter.
In 2WD we crawled behind the Subaru at a snails pace, Vovo showing considerable restraint by not racing off in his new Japanese import car that he had just collected from Vladivostok. At this rate it would take about 8 hours to get to Krasnoyarsk and the condition of the front axle was slowly deteriorating. Over brunch at a roadside cafe we decided we should drive no further, but to try and get the car onto the back of a lorry to Krasnoyarsk. Vovo set about badgering every truck driver about, and soon introduced us to Anatoly, who had an empty flatbed artic we could use to transport the car. Now we just had to get the Disco onto, the 1.5 meter high, back of it!
Dave took the helm and reversed the Disco onto some inspection ramps to which Anatoly aligned the back of his trailer. Using some wooden beams as ramps to bridge the gap up and across to the flat bed, Dave began easing the Disco up, blissfully unaware of how close the askew front left wheel was to coming off the side of the beam. Al's heart was in his mouth as three quarters of the tyre hung over the edge, but to all round relief the front wheels made it to the relative safety of the trailer and the rears, still being parallel, quickly followed suit.
Once the car was securely strapped down we jumped in the back of Vovo's car for the convoy to Krasnoyarsk. After 2 months driving a two and half tonne, 130bhp Land Rover the Forester, with the engine out of the Impreza Turbo, felt like a fighter jet - pretty scary! We learnt on route that Maks's friend worked at Krasnoyarsk Land Rover, but they would not be able to help, however, Vovo's father specialised in repairing cars that the dealers couldn't so we were in just the right hands. We pulled up in a Krasnoyarsk suburb by some lock-up garages and Vovo began searching the city for a crane to lift the Land Rover off the back of the lorry. After some time we found one that was up to the job and watched agonisingly as the straps tugged at the limp wheel. Thankfully it did not tear off, dropping the car to the floor, and we were able to roll the disco to a secure car park before checking into a local hotel, being assured that everything would be fixed on Monday and encouraged to enjoy our stay in Krasnoyarsk. In the comfort of our hotel room we began to relax, and celebrated our rescue with a huge sandwich after a stressful adventure of a day.
Maks met us at the hotel after breakfast and lead us on the 15 minute walk to Vovo's, where in light of our financial plight they offered us the use of Vovo’s families empty apartment on the other side of town, rather than the expensive hotel (£40 per night! Outrageous!) This was great news as it looked as though we were going to be in Krasnoyarsk for a while. Once we had checked out of the hotel and moved our bags across town, Vovo took us all up to his families lodge in the wooded hills surrounding the city and treated us all to a demonstration of his Forrester's off-roading ability on the nearby Ski runs. On returning to the city we all headed to their local, a lively cafe called Turku, for some food and we were the interest of all the waitresses who declared us the first foreigners they had ever met! We were briefly joined by their friend Kos, a.k.a. the 'Rasta Man', about whom we had heard much already, before being dropped off at the loaned apartment for an early night.
The morning was spent finishing the diaries for our first spell in Russia before Maks arrived around Midday. We took the bus across town to his apartment for an excellent lunch of his mother's borsch, and some meat, cheese and fish. We met his cat and dog and were shown photos of his son and girlfriend who were away visiting family up north. With lunch digested we met up with Vovo and went to the car park to remove the front axle from the Disco, in the pouring rain, and take it back to Vovo's garage to be cleaned in preparation for welding. Vovo's father dropped by to check on progress and served us up a beer while we watched. As night closed in we returned to Maks's apartment where his mother had prepared us a late supper, and, as it was late, we were invited to stay the night rather than spend an hour on the buses back to our apartment. An offer we gladly accepted.
Breakfast at Maks' included the unusual morning treat of what is probably best described as cheesecake filling which fuelled us up for the sight seeing tour of the surprisingly European old city centre, and a long walk back across the green park island that sat in the middle of the Yenisey river that bisects the city.
We headed to Turku for a late lunch and an afternoon beer or two, and then as more friends arrived we stayed for a few more. It was soon late and a dozen of us were enjoying some good Russian vodka which was helping erode the language barrier and Dave practiced some new Russian phrases on the giggling waitresses. Numbers began to thin and we headed to Kos's apartment with Kos, Maks and Vovo for the rest of the evening and crashed in Kos's living room for the night.
A fairly late start saw Alex feeling pretty ill, even the pizza breakfast did nothing to help the situation. Back in Vovo's Subaru we were given to the usual rough ride, being thrown around the back seat as he treated the Russian roads as a race track, usually fun, but today Al was not appreciating it. It was one corner too many for Al's stomach; an emergency pull over, just as we drove onto the city's famous bridge (pictured on a ten rouble note), saw him run for the rail just in time, though unfortunately a strong headwind did nothing to help matters! With the recovering Alex dropped off back at the apartment, Dave, Maks and Vovo headed back across town to the garage where the repaired axle was waiting. On hearing of the excesses of the previous night, Vovo's dad insisted Dave joined him in a morning shot of Russian vodka to blow away the cobwebs. It would be rude to say no… The four of us set about putting the car back together and, a few hours later the axle was refitted. A couple of touch-up welds and a quick test drive and everyone was happy with the result. In this case 'everyone' also includes a good number of spectators who had gathered to watch the work.
We retreated from the crowds and back down to the sanctuary that is the garage basement, where, after another vodka Dave ventured back to the car to retrieve the bottle of whiskey we have been carrying for such an occasion. After being given a soviet army jacket from Vovo's father's days in the red army we picked up a revitalised Al and headed to what has become our new local for food. A quiet morning at the apartment gave us the perfect opportunity to get a bit of work done whilst we waited for Maks. Midday came and went and, with word from Maks saying that it would be a while before he was ready we ventured out on our own. A quick lunch and a drive into town to an internet cafe, before visiting a restaurant for a fine pasta meal saw the hours pass and it was soon night. At around nine o'clock we finally got word from Maks that he was up and awake and was now waiting at Turku. We headed across town to find a big group and a party in full swing. Quickly taking the car to a nearby car park we were back to get in on the action. Unfortunately we were already too late; they were out of beer! It left no other option we were forced to start straight on the vodkas (forced both by lack of alternative drink and literally forced by our many new friends who kept thrusting shot glasses into our hands). On for a quick visit to a local club where Dave, armed with a list of Russian chat up lines was sent into groups of girls, shortly followed by Maks, nobly acting as translator and loving the attention it got him, before being driven back for our last night in the apartment. After a good lie in we packed away our things and tidied the apartment ready for our departure. A quick text to Maks revealed that he was feeling a little worse for wear and would not be ready for the outside world until late afternoon. We wandered down the road for lunch at the quiet Turku before walking and bussing one and half hours across town to collect the Land Rover. One problem that had taken a back seat while the axle was being fixed was the broken stereo but with five solid days in the car ahead of us it was now a priority. Dave decided the easy course of action was to buy a new stereo and get the old one repaired back in the UK and flog it on eBay. We drove back to the apartment to collect our things and stocked up with supplies for our 3000km plus trek to the Ukraine. Ready to roll, we met Maks, Kos and Vovo, paid for the repair work, and gave Maks our Russian-English dictionary and a few English coins as souvenir. They guided us out of the city to the main highway where we said our goodbyes and began our ambitious drive west at about 8pm. We had 4 days until our insurance ran out, and although it probably wouldn't be a problem if we overran, after being in the same place for a whole week we were looking forward to getting back on the road and the challenge our deadline presented was just what we needed. After 6 hours we were happy with the 200 miles we had covered and parked up for the night.
We drove all day from 8am until 1am the next morning covering 700 miles, which took us past the 10,000 mile marker for the trip, exactly two months after we had left the UK. Thankfully travelling west at this rate meant we were gaining an hour a day as we crossed the time zones, which could be the difference between success and failure on our tight deadline.
This was another solid day behind the wheel from 8am to 3:30am, totalling 20 hours and covering a good 800 miles. Our 30 minute stop for lunch was interrupted by Dave taking an emergency 'walk-with-the-spade' into the woods. With his stomach settled it was Dave's turn for the late shift for which he prescribed himself a tin of performance enhancing 'Burn' energy drink to power him through, but it had the unfortunate effect of keeping him awake for half the night, a heightened sense of hearing, and cultivating some lucid and unusual dreams! Another 19 hours on the road and another 800 miles under our belts to the backdrop of grey skies and uninterrupted rain, but not without some excitement: Early in the afternoon, when overtaking a coach it pulled out without warning forcing us and a car coming the other direction onto the opposite hard shoulder, heading straight for one another. To avoid a head on collision Dave pulled left down the embankment into the storm drain at 50 mph and brought us to a halt with no damage sustained. The heavy rain had made the bottom of the ditch boggy and we were soon comprehensively stuck. Keen to stretch his legs and welcoming a break from the car Al ventured out into the pouring rain and sticky mud and set to digging the wheels, axles and tow bar free before we finally winched ourselves to a firmer section of the ditch. After several failed attempts to get up the banking we were stuck again. Al went for a walk down the road to recce the banking for a shallower section with a smooth firm bottom to allow a short run-up. Dave had freed the Disco, but the gentler slope was still too much for the heavy Disco with its wheels spinning on the loose packed bank. It was time to christen the waffle boards! We embedded them half way up the bank, around the height we were loosing grip, and in a break in traffic the disco roared up the slope, tyres biting on the waffle boards and propelling the car back onto the tarmac! We were soaking wet and covered in mud, but thankfully the only casualties were Dave's flip-flops and an hour or two of driving time. Fortunately the roads of European Russia are pretty good and we had ourselves within a couple of hundred miles of the Ukraine border before calling it a night, confident of making our deadline comfortably, as long as we had no further problems.
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