Uncle Nobby—and Kim’s wise words echoing in our ears. Failing that, we will certainly have their numbers on speed dial.
One final thing: Jo and I have both come back suffering from a mild case of Stockholm syndrome.
It hasn’t been the most eventful week in Tukland: no more survival courses in the depths of Devon or learning how to splint fractures at the Royal Geographical Society. However, on the logistics front we have made some headway since the China Sea International Travel Service (CSITS) in Beijing has now confirmed that we can enter China on 10 June. Since it will take us about 12 days to drive north from Bangkok to China, this gives us a start date of 28 May, which means leaving England around 20 May for a final week of planning and preparation. That will give us enough time in Bangkok to become acquainted with Ting Tong, our supersonic tuk tuk, get some mechanical training and generally prepare ourselves for the next 12 500 miles.
Other main news this week is that we are getting our fundraising action plan in place and exploring security issues. As we are two girls going solo, security is something we have to consider carefully. What sort of back-up are we going to have? What methods of communication are we going to use? How do we cope if we break down in the middle of nowhere? This week I have been talking to International SOS and Control Risks Group, professional security organisations, to see what they can offer us and at what price. Option one, having a two-man back-up team with us 24/7, comes in at a hefty £600 a day—laughably beyond our budget. Option two, at around £3000 for three months, is to have a remote assistance team, whom we call every day and who will warn us of any potential security or medical risks. Option three is to go it alone and trust in the power of Ting Tong. At the moment Option three is favourite, unless some kind corporation decides to throw a wad of cash our way.
Jo’s off to India next week to see her fiancé Raja. Does anyone want to look after her ferrets?
Exciting news! Skype confirmed this week that they are going to sponsor us. We are thrilled to be in cahoots with such a well-known brand and are looking forward to calling everyone via Skype from the back of the tuk tuk. If you haven’t already discovered Skype, get on to it. It’s amazing. I’ve been having Russian lessons via Skype with my teacherVanda, she in her house in Sweden, and I in my house in Norfolk. Technology, eh?
It sounds like Jo is having fun in India. Her last email recounted an ear-piercing festival she had been to.
My friends Bella and Ewan have just come back from three weeks in Thailand, Cambodia and Laos and said that not only was it unbearably hot but that one night it rained so much in Bangkok that the water was up to their knees. By May it’ll be even hotter, and with the monsoon looming there are bound to be a few more of these flash floods. I’ve been caught in them before and the volume of water is astonishing, incomparable to anything you will ever experience in this country. Fingers crossed that we don’t get caught in any such downpours: tuk tuks are tropical beasts and not famed for their prowess in deep water.
I just had lunch with Hugh Sinclair, who in 1991 broke the world record for the fastest traverse of the Americas by motorbike. Having heard about our expedition on the traveller’s grapevine, he very kindly contacted us to offer advice. What a fount of information: I’ve come away with my brain bulging and a list of tips as long as my arm. Hugh’s story is a funny one: he and a friend decided that they wanted to break a world record; they didn’t know how or where, but it had to be a record. They weren’t bikers but when they found out that there was no confirmed record for the fastest crossing of the Americas by bike, they decided that was what they would do. So they got their tests and set off: 35 days’ riding, 40 accidents and an airlift later they did it. And Hugh has barely ridden a bike since! Glad to see that we’re not the only certifiable people out there.
We just got back the results of a geopolitical security assessment we had done for the journey, looking at the potential medical and security risks we could encounter in each country. It makes nerve-wracking reading. Here are some of the highlights. Of Laos it says: ‘Overland travel in general is becoming increasingly hazardous in Laos and most authorities advise foreign travellers to consider air travel between urban centres.’ Of Kazakhstan: ‘The police and the National Guard may themselves present a threat…it is worthwhile noting that visitors are advised not to drive but to hire a driver or to take a taxi between locations.’ Of Russia: ‘The police can be particularly difficult to deal with, and the concept of corruption is endemic to the population at large.’ It’s great to have an assessment like this done and to be aware of the risks—it would be irresponsible of us not to—but it doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence. The fact is, though, that we can’t afford an expensive back-up team and are just going to have faith in the power of Ting Tong and our guardian angels.
Jo’s back from India now so we’re getting together tomorrow to work out our final plan of action. Only five more weeks to go, but so much to think about still.
Gee, where do I start? So much has happened in the past few days that it’s hard to keep track of everything. Organising this venture is the ultimate emotional rollercoaster: some weeks you feel like you are trying to climb a never-ending mountain, other weeks everything goes right and you are bowled over by the kindness and generosity of people. This week has definitely fallen into the latter category.
On Tuesday Jo and I drove down to Winchester to see Brussels-based expedition guru Sam Rutherford and his wife Bea. Sam was one of a team who drove from London to Sydney in two pink Land Rovers in 1997 and since then he and Bea have set up their own company, www.prepare2go.com, organising rallies and advising people like me and Jo on how to travel the world and make it back in one piece.
Talking to people like Sam, you pick up tips that you would never discover in a month of research. Perhaps his best pieces of advice were to keep our sense of humour—particularly in China, which allegedly makes India seem like the proverbial stroll in the park—and to never lose sight of the fact that the main thing is to get home safe. He also allayed our fears that someone might steal Ting Tong: it seems that our decision to paint her pink is in fact a stroke of genius since it would be pretty hard for someone to steal her without being caught pink-handed. Sam and Bea also kindly offered to have two rather grubby tukkers staying with them in Brussels on the last leg of the trip.
Having had lunch with a world record holder on Monday, we were spurred into chasing up Guinness to see whether our journey would make it into the record books. The answer came back that upon completion we could well break the record for ‘the
