Sunday, July 31, 2005

We need sleep...But we just love our fans.

Finally the combined wheels of Mongol Rally have been set in motion. Midday on Saturday saw the launch from Hyde Park, and then it was all down to Dover for the opening dash across Europe. Team Wrongolia are now in the beautiful city of Prague, supping on a few brews, after a marathon all night session through France and Germany.

This is the culmination of a highly eventful few weeks that saw Ian desperately begging for cash while I was running about London desperately begging for visas. In the end we got chucked some free toys in order to pipe down, and a bit of sterling from the most unlikely of places; long lost friends, random people in pubs, distant relations, and believe it or not, Ian's mum, who was one tough nut to crack. But not even a whiff of shrapnel from the white-collar folk with the six digit marketing budgets. Now that's even tighter than our Turkmenistan visa application. Thankfully the good people at Bar Estilo and TC's swooped in at the last minute providing some much needed financial support for journey. So, finances aside, the car has been sorted beyond recognition. The boys at Chambers Ford have really put the hours in and even managed to give us a crash course in motor mechanics. Unfortunately we couldn't hide the fact that they were starting with two pretty much blank slates. Pre-rally schoolboy errors include a tank full of diesel due to my incompetence, and Ian getting the car keys stolen while in Newquay on the Fiesta's inaugural run; setting in motion 'Mission New Key to Newquay.' Huge thanks to the captain of BMI Baby flight 1973 who agreed to carry them in his cockpit.

And so to the rally itself. After loading the beast on the morning of departure it was difficult not to notice the wheel arch hanging dangerously close to the tyres. This signified a potential problem. After a re-shuffel we managed to move weight forward enough to move, but not enough to avoid the terrible noise of metal on rubber each time we hit as much as a pebble in the road. By Dover the situation was pretty dire. Fortunately our enthusiasm with a hammer and metal cutters proved successful and the arches got a little trim and flare. Aside from that, so far so good....well, apart from a limp brake line that insists on dragging along the tarmac.

We're back on the road at the crack of dawn tommorrow. We hope to see you in Istanbul.

Until then, mind how you go.

Ian and Phil.

Friday, July 22, 2005

A few yarns to get the diary started...

With a week to go, we thought it was well time for the Wrongolia Diary to commence. So what's been happening to the lads over the past few weeks of preparation...

Getting visas has been a mission and a half. So, while Ian's been sunning himself up in Brum, I've been running about London churpsing consulates into speeding up the visa process. Still, with 5 working days to go before we leave, and the 10-day Turkmenistan just in the mix, we might just have to give the rest of the pack a little head start on the 30th and head up the rear on the following Monday.

1. Regarding visas, back on the 8th July my mum was not overly impressed when my 6am visit to the Russian consulate didn't produce the goods till way past 11, which meant a handy tardiness for my graduation ceremony up in Brum. Yet alas, instead of the 1.45 Political Science and Humanities they managed to stick me in on my own with the School of Education and Life-Long studies. Needless to say it was loads and loads of fun...

2. And on Wednesday this week, in my haste to get back to Brum for a meeting at the Ford garage, I managed to diesel my tank with 25 quids worth of the sweetness. A highly foolish and expensive pre-rally setback. Enjoy the photo of my Honda taking a leak. It all bodes well for our skills on the road.

3. Oh, and yeah, check out our car. Just picked her up for the Ford garage today. Looking quite the stunner with her sick alloys and modified air intake. Huge thanks to Steve and David and all at Chambers Ford, without whom we would be well in the shizzle without a paddle.

Until next time.

Phil.