Jim's Blog

Last Day.

DATE:
22 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S

Spent the first half of the morning trying to remember the route to get out of our hotel suite. This was of course made even more difficult on account of the countless Air B&B guests we now had to tread over on our way through our seemingly endless maze of rooms. 

The chosen few, ie Bok and Michelin,had to tie up a few loose ends in the form of the cars now creating a rather up market traffic jam in front of The British Embassy. Packing up cars ready for return can be rather tricky with just two guys , especially when a nameless Scottish Gent declined on health and safety grounds to lift the proverbial finger. A mental note was made to see him between Monday and Wednesday next week. 

The rest of us started  to feel like proper foreign type tourists as we climbed on, then off, the buses and  dutifully followed our guide’s umbrella with earpieces in place. 

There are certain “ sensitivities “ in China that one must respect, not least any alleged events that we now better understand to have never happened in Tinanmen Square. But we still had to persuade Gobbi from shouting loudly about looking for tank track marks . 

Unbelievably hot, and seemingly packed. However, the real crowds were  to be found at 4.00am in preparation for the flag raising ceremony. Gutted to have missed that but youtube is a great resource. Whoops, just remembered not available here . 

The energy sapping heat reminded me more of a pizza oven than the usual sauna simile, it was literally stifling. The square progresses through a series of huge gates to the Forbidden City and its imposing architecture. Built between 1406 and 1420 (first and last factoid). Great opportunity for another passport scan. I suppose that’s to check that just in case you slipped through the last twenty passport checks   getting into Beijing with malign intentions, you didn’t at least get to visit this tourist hot spot (no pun intended).

A lazy afternoon and ….. wait for it …no scheduled activities until our dinner. Bok’s going bloody soft if you ask me.

A bit of impromptu shopping for some and no doubt chilling for others . 

Dinner as guests of INEOS China hosted by “our men in China” Pronker and Peilin, where amongst others Monkey cut her teeth as our youngest speech maker. Let’s be honest, there aren’t many 15 year olds who would have the confidence to stand up in front of a large gathering and deliver a faultless speech. Maximum respect. 

All good things of course must come to an end. And so it was that some of our number discreetly headed off to catch an overnight flight whilst the rest of us returned like homing pigeons to the roof top bar. 

There have of course been an army of unsung heroes who have kept us on and off the road. To name but a few, huge thanks  must go to Buya and his team in Mongolia. The epitomy of calm competence. Challenged by Shadow to a wrestling bout Buya called it a truce before face was lost (literally). Tiger and Jesse endlessly smoothed our path across China with Melvyn and Ada our vehicle logistics geniuses. 

And last but certainly not least, Big Ben and Klara, two utterly wonderful,sleep deprived people who made sure that our journey was chronicled for posterity and that we were fed, watered throughout. Both very much a part of the core team, and always brilliant company. 

So very many incredible memories shared, friendships made and strengthened and so much laughter had. To say we are privileged doesn’t begin to cover it . To a man (woman) we all recognise that this journey was unique and almost certainly will not be repeated anytime soon, if ever . 

None of us know what the future holds but what we can say right now, is that we all shared something very special during the Mongolia 5000 adventure. We are all truly grateful for being included in this magnificent mad cap adventure. Jim , thank you, it was truly epic. 

Off we go, just back in time for tea and medals.

spot the Bentley
Traffic Jam
The showman
off to find the lost arc
Second hand Bentley salesman
didnt get the dress code memo
Opium deal announced to the world
Full team

 

Day Twenty three.

DATE:
21 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S

Plan: The last push from rural Beijing province into the centre of the city or more specifically the British Embassy. The end of an epic adventure for all of us but even more so perhaps for those who have been involved from the very outset.

A bit like moving to a village, you will always be reminded you are “Newcomers to the village” for at least the first 15/20 years.

A morning run up to the wall for those who do that sort of thing and a lazy breakfast for those that do lazy breakfasts. Mango Robbie had brilliantly stuck 10 to 12 Mongolia 5000 Stickers on a section of the wall ( bloody cultural vandal) the day before and a “ treasure hunt “ challenge was prepared our exercise junkies. Typically it became fiercely competitive, as I hasten to add did the breakfast.

Endorphin refuelling accomplished, the cars were packed and luggage all marked up,once again we were back on the road by mid morning.

Now, I made the schoolboy error or equating the distance with time. I failed to factor in an as yet unnecessary factor. Gridlocked city traffic.

But….. Just as things appeared to be nicely on track for a triumphant cavalcade cruising through the embassy gates… Word from JUE et al.

“We’ve been stopped and now detained by the police”. Apparently no open pick up vehicles are allowed in Beijing, but in fairness I guess the jingoistic Union Jack didn’t help matters. In hindsight a Cultural faux pas perhaps.

This was resolved at lightening speed and a mere 3 hours later after standing in 46 degree heat by the roadside, a suitably senior official acknowledged that all the car licenses were in order and they were waved on, to catch up with the rest of us by now relaxing in air conditioned splendour.

The rest of us had long ago majestically swept into the front  courtyard of the Embassy. A wonderful moment and suitably recorded for posterity below.

The cool air conditioned atmosphere of the embassy reception rooms , cold beers, canapés  and champagne were most welcome. Charming staff welcomed us, even inviting us to sit on the veranda overlooking the splendid gardens . A glimpse of colonial living that I now better understand from my Oxford University re education program to be imperialistically culturally oppressive.

The Peninsular Hotel awaited us, a reception from the staff that made each and every one of us feel like long lost friends. I can only assume that, in all seriousness, each of the “ greeters” has studied pictures of us all, so that they could immediately identify who we were and welcome us. Deeply impressive.

However it was the rooms, or perhaps more aptly, apartments,  that were on a scale most mere mortals have never previously experienced. I had assumed we must be sleeping on a sofa bed as we were shown into what I now realise is our sitting room. Little did I know hotels had “ multiple roomed” rooms .

The study, library and orangey were also to sir’s liking . The bathroom alone was bigger that any hotel room I’ve stayed in before with more marble than an Italian Palazzo.

I could go on, and usually do, but let’s keep moving .

The genuine warmth of our welcome for our evening dinner at the Embassy was somewhat in contrast to the dinning room lighting, reminiscent I fear, of what we doctors call “hospital waiting room chic.”

I know this makes me a complete snob (arrest me!) but another non sequitur (unlike the regal crockery befitting the institution) were the wine glasses, the likes of which I haven’t seen since Esso gave them away with every 20 gallons of petrol circa 1970. (Think my big fat Gypsy wedding). If Ambassador you are reading this, I fully realise that this will now be my very first and last foray into diplomatic circles. However, I’m told you’ve got an excellent sense of humour and hey, I’m here to paint a picture.

Peachy, delivered a perfectly judged “thank you speech” to our gracious hosts, preceded by the now customary (penultimate) Totti wine oration.

On return to the hotel we discovered an impressive roof top terrace bar . Still 30 degrees at 11.30 pm but copious application of cucumber mojito’s is a well know cure for heatstroke . It was miraculous, still hot but didn’t care anymore .

Back to our room at midnight only to find that my Air B&B posting had been successful and we now had 6 families living with us . Win win for everyone.

Early morning run on the wall
The morning run
Good cop bad cop
Good cop bad cop.
Roasted Peking style
Red carpet moment
Feeling at home now
Sadly no time for a wardrobe change
cooler in than out.
Job Done!
Majestic Embassy Garden
Colonial Chic.
Opium deal sorted … we moved onto dinner.
unaccustomed as I am to public speaking…
Yum Yum
Our host A natural orator
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

Day Twenty two.

DATE:
20 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S

Having arrived late and assumed that our rather grand hotel was empty, breakfast produced evidence to the contrary. 

Ben’s car allocations done and another punctual start achieved, we had a few hundred Kliks to cover to be ready for our late afternoon rendezvous at The Brickyard with the girls. 

Today’s driving was notable not so much for the cars that we were in but for the steady progression to strangely more familiar surroundings. Familiar, only in that the emerging greenery along with dramatic mountain ranges was positively Andalucian. 

One main difference being the astonishing amounts of newly constructed infrastructure. Motorways crisscrossing, bullet train viaducts, huge wind farms and more solar panels on one mountainside than we probably have in the whole of the UK. 

Once off the motorway we were in what seemed like an idyllic slice of rural China . This reminded me of a cross between The Alps in the summer and a Greek island . Lush hillsides , imposing mountains and yet so many unfinished concrete dwellings at the lower levels. A magical contrast from the last few weeks . 

As The Great Wall was first glimpsed a raft of facts, figures re its length, when it was constructed and the rulers responsible, were offered . Good old Google never disappoints. 

We arrived at the most charming mountainside boutique hotel in good time to meet our latest additions. Enough time for a shower, a refreshing drink or two on beautifully manicured lawns, then off we go to The Main attraction. 

A short drive, steady climb and a bubble lift . We had arrived . It really really, really, didn’t disappoint! But helped possibly by the fact that we were being spoilt rotten. Private access to one of the great wonders of the world. 

Arriving just in time for sundown and plenty of photo ops. It’s not everyday you are truly humbled by an inanimate structure as impressive as this. Sadly my vocabulary fails to do justice to its splendor. 

As if that wasn’t enough , dinner just below the wall awaited and we were back to; great company, fine wines and a perfect temperature for an outdoor dinner. 

For some inexplicable reason the steps down were more tricky to navigate. 

Deep sleep and huge gratitude for this very special day. 

What ?! Fast track ?
Solartastic
It ain’t half hot mum
367th Santa Claus convention
Breathtaking spectacle .
Dinner on the wall

Day Twenty one.

DATE:
19 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S.

Perhaps as a direct consequence of not having gone for the “loves room” option we awoke refreshed and optimistic about an early (ish) start to our Chinese odyssey.

Just how wrong can one man be? You will recall dear reader that we had graciously allowed our rather precious cars to have a “ sleepover “ with our hosts at customs, along with our precious wine cellar.

A novel rather than a blog might be better medium to explain the wrangling that ensued.

In the interests of sanity, I would suggest we simply gloss over the subtleties of whether our cars should have been classified as commercial vs tourist vehicles. I’m going to skip to the last page of said novel with the observation that in China decisions have very real consequences for those that make them, so seem to be hard to come by.

31 hours after we made it to the Chinese border, and in a veritable flurry of Media attention, handshakes, film crew, smiles and prepared words of our deepest gratitude the cars et vin were with us!

Note to self; don’t attempt to be the first western cars to enter China after a three and a half year hiatus.

As a result of this delay we were now faced by a slight logistics conundrum. We were so far behind schedule that we simply couldn’t get to our next stop in Ulanqab,some 350 kliks away, with the whole convoy.

Not wishing to be disparaging about JUE and ROG’s maximum speed, a rather pragmatic decision was taken by those what know about these matters.

Verdict; both were coaxed onto a lorry for a temporary rest and off they shot ahead of us, with the plan to join us at the Great Wall, 24 hours later.

Genius, as we were free to tank it down to our overnight stop, arriving just before midnight.

Our first proper experience of driving on Chinese roads . Perhaps the most dramatic difference after crossing the border was the sudden appearance of civilization and greenery. The contrast with Mongolia was dramatic.

No real comment other than to say that the evidence would suggest that all Chinese cars have their headlights permanently fixed in full beam. (note to self, bring driving glasses on any future driving trip)

Finally, shortly before midnight we trundled into an eerily quite town and a rather magnificent hotel, all be it with a whiff of former glory.

Charming staff who had prepared a rotating table of delicious nosh. The predictably childishly games ensued with all of us speeding up the table when colleagues were trying to gracefully serve themselves. Children please behave!

We are back on track and excited to be heading to The Great Wall tomorrow.

bull at a china shop.
audience participation diminishes.
we should not have invaded
Congrats. You can have your car back and a new driving license.
Celeb on the local news.
JUE takes a break
Does the fossil record tell us This happened? 
Pushing on.

Day Twenty.

DATE:
18 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S

Border crossing day was always going to be a tad tedious.  But the combined efforts of Mongolian and Chinese customs exceeded our wildest expectations!  More of that later…

I’m not sure why we felt the necessity to achieve a PB with a 4:30am reveille, but I guess it’s always important to keep pushing the boundaries of sleep deprivation.

As per tour tradition, car allocations were duly sorted the night before. As dawn thought about breaking, we were good to go on the last stretch of off-roading, before hitting 200k of prime belt and road tarmac.

JUE had other ideas, fortunately not a fatal event but more an attention seeking tantrum.  Mechanics swung into action with the highly sophisticated ‘bump start’ technique.

Our last desert hurrah was rewarded with perfect desert plateau.  The unusual combination of sparse grasses and gravel allowed high speed progress, producing enough traction without corrugation to put your foot down and stretch the legs.

All good things must come to an end as the tarmac beckoned.  That would have been too easy.  After refueling, for no apparent reason, Butch’s Bentley refused to spark back into life.  Lots of diagnostic head scratching ensued, high level tinkering, but ultimately it was a plumbing issue (that’s a fuel blockage to the uninitiated).

An unrelenting stretch of asphalt gave Shadow an impromptu opportunity to catch up on sleep, much to the terror of his passenger, Daub!

We thought we must have arrived at the border early, as our map showed we were still 5k away.  Why else would there be a stationary queue of lorries?

Luckily, being entitled imperialists, we assumed they wanted us to take the bus lane. In a world of competitive lorry queueing, turns out Mongolia is right up there. A straw poll of the 3 lorry drivers we spoke to resulted in in 49% blaming Brexit and 51% blaming the French.  

At this point, little did we know that our border experience had only just begun. The lorries would be long gone before we set foot on Chinese soil.

Who would have thought that the bureaucracy of departing Mongolia would surpass that of entering China. It was difficult to comprehend that after much wrangling over how to classify these vintage cars that this only marked the end of the beginning! 

We had apparently only now earned the right to start entering China. This in turn, turned out to be a tale of two halves. Praise where praise is due. The “pedestrians” ie non drivers were ushered with relative efficiency though an impressive series of checks and double checks. More Biometrics required than gaining access to The Pentagon’s database. Unless of course you just happen to be a hacker on the spectrum. 

Rest assured our hosts now possess more personal information on us than our GP’s. Slight sense of humour failure when I explained to Big Brother’s rather unsubtle photographer that he wasn’t capturing my ‘good side’. I blame Google translate. 

Short story long, the cars and the wine became the entry issue.  Despite us offering up Klara as collateral for the impounded wine, we couldn’t persuade the powers that be. The cars were now apparently not cars but commercial goods. Wait for it… remember the lorry queue? 

In the interests of brevity (only kidding) the cars were left overnight to be further inspected (pulled apart) especially as The Grenadier doesn’t exist on their database. Keep an eye out for a rugged, capable off-roader coming out of China next year – The Chineos Bombardier.

Bus onward to our first  hotel  all be it with an interesting room rate (see rate card below), dinner at the local Gordon Ramsey equivalent and Bob’s your hosts brother, another day done… 

Wakey wakey rise and shine.
Another day another gateway to nowhere.
Belt and Road.
Giant Oreo’s ?
Bloody French !
Wine cellar transport team
Customs officials not fooled that the wine was actually a seat!
The moment Klara realised she had been offered as security for the return of the wine 🙁
Apparently wine smuggling taken quite seriously here.
VIP travel lounge
First 5 hours are the worst
Omg Chinese pride week just finished (no survivors).
Spare change? ….Needs must.
Chance would be a fine thing.
I guess how they caught it.
No one explained it was the finger bowl.
Decisions decisions ….
Ha bloody ha guys … it’s not clever or funny ! 

Day Nineteen.

DATE:
17 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S

With military precision, on the dot of 6.30 am we pulled out of  our Amazing pop-up camp situated slap bang in the middle of nowhere. Thanks to the brilliant support team we had been fed, watered and were suitably rested . Well I say ‘rested’, but in reality it’s always tempting when being offered ludicrously good wine to have ‘just one more glass’ after dinner! This can result in a slight protest from your body to “ rise and shine “  at 5.15 am !

My first Bentley day and it certainly didn’t disappoint! What a magnificent beast it is. These cars are simply the personification of early automotive excellence. Over Ninety years old but somehow timeless, simultaneously elegant, rugged and unstoppable. The morning breeze was welcome as we crossed yet more desert scrub for an hour or so.

This quite quickly gave way to a blistering 44  degrees of dry heat. But as I found out the USP of driving across desert is the sandblasting exfoliation thrown in for free. The result not dissimilar to an ‘Essex Girl’ following the overzealous application of fake tan.

All we had for company was the odd lorry heading in the opposite direction . Delighted to report that lorry driver all over the world share a common language (see photo below).

Now for the ‘Elephant in the Ger’, AKA The getting lost controversy.

The facts dear jury: In short, just before midday half the convoy went one way, the other 90 degrees the other direction.

Result: muchos dicking around in 45 degree heat.

A formal evening inquiry was brought to order:

For the prosecution: Philistine.
For the defense: Everyone else.
Verdict: It was somebody else’s fault .

Perhaps it’s only when you find yourself in one of natures genuine wildernesses that you start to appreciate the raw beauty of emptiness. Who would think that nothingness could be so breathtaking?  No picture you take can capture the overwhelming sense of solitude. Perhaps that’s exactly what  an adventure really is. The realisation that simply watching Planet Earth on your high res, ultra HD widescreen TV at home isn’t actually the same as experiencing it. Obs, no disrespect to HRH St David A intended.

250 clicks covered , cars all purring and spirts running high . 10 hour plus on the move and hey presto up pops another Ger village  like a mirage on a flat dust plane .

Did someone say showers?

mongolian ski team captain.
Move over , There’s a new sheriff in town
Peaky blinders.
please sir can I have my football back?
beginners windfarm.
random man run over by vintage car
lorry drivers unite.
which way?
what do you mean you missed the turning?
well i can assure you, it wasn’t me!
mongolian national park discovered
essex spray tan.
just keep smiling!
the world’s biggest rubik’s cube.

Day Eighteen

DATE:
16 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
David S

Day Eighteen

When The boss “ asks “ you to write the blog for the next few days you just have to hope your inner voice kicks in quick enough reminding you that it was a rhetorical question before giving your honest reply ending in off.

I did however forget to ask whether you could be cancelled for what you wrote and how many trigger warnings were required for our more sensitive readers. So apologies in advance.

Please stop reading now if you are prone to being offended by life in general.

Our three days of so called R&R at the rather magnificent Three Camel Lodge were in fact clearly a thinly disguised prolonged audition to be extras in the latest Downton Abbey series. As if the three 1929 Bentleys weren’t enough the costume department c/o Henry Poole and Co did us proud . The order for our splendid outfits was squeezed in between a certain funeral and a consequential Coronation. Well done team!

Great grub and some mighty fine wines that put the finest of French Chateaux to shame. We glimpsed but a tiny fraction of the rich Mongolian culture, at a local horse racing and wrestling festival noted for its absence of races and wrestling.

However, the unquestionable highlight for me being the music from a Mongolian ensemble on our last evening. Their mastery of their unique instruments together with their vocal gymnastics was simply breathtaking, even if the “growling” was a tad creepy.

The icing on an already perfectly baked cake came when our very own Shrek was asked to accompany them. I freely admit I became quite emotional. Yes, I had a tear in my eye, or perhaps it was caused by the wind whipping across the uninterrupted steppe that formed the magical backdrop.

Prolonged comfort break over; To quote the Bok: “Time for the train to move on.”

5.30 am and pre-breakfast loading of the Quartermaster pick-up aided by the Duracell rabbit that is Philistine. The end result resembling a top heavy charabanc, followed by our last ‘all you can eat’ buffet breakfast. Move over Club Med!

As the new kids on the block it was a relief to be finally hitting the road, or perhaps more aptly non-road.

Somewhat predictably our“ tour hardened elders “ didn’t waste time reminding us newbies as we set off that it were “rite tuff in their day “ i.e. the early stages and from here on into China it was all going to be bit of a breeze . That menacing sixth former swagger was not well disguised. Little did they know that the replacement A-team were all carefully handpicked for our off road rallying prowess.

Thanks to the brilliance of amongst others Daub, Michelin and Butch the cars simply leapt out of their stating blocks and purred along all day, sans incident. Mercifully none of them chose Orthopaedic surgery as a career as with those mechanical skills I’d have not been able to compete.

A long days driving with flat terrain and a fair bit of tarmac.

Mid morning gave way to a rather surreal moment. As we all cruised across open plane we suddenly saw a Mad Max, Dystopian vision of a highrise city rising out of desert scrub. The “ town “ was actually clearly just a resting ground for petrol station owners to show off their latest designs . Charles and I counted at least 9 petrol stations in the space of I km.

However we had come not just for a fuelling pit stop but for pressurised air for our deflated off road tyres. Sadly, someone had forgotten to tell the petrol station showroom that this was part of the whole forecourt experience. Luckily our trusted team were ready at hand with our own compressor.

We changed cars and drivers mid morning shortly after passing through a bizarre set of gates reminiscent of the last time I personally invaded Bagdad . I don’t like to talk about my special forces days, for obvious reasons. But in fairness being their cook wasn’t that dangerous.

Onwards, parallel for 40 Kms beside a new road construction, dodging huge diggers and rollers ( not the cars!) we hit some sand for the first time and yours truly got suck in the Porsche as I was passing under the new motorway.

Team effort and adequate sniggering got us free, onwards to our latest camp.

These rocks really are “ flaming “ tonight as I write.

What more could we ask for ; an impromptu gym session led by Chilly Philly, a shower and more top nosh washed down with 2009 Lynch Bages! Is this real?

Another day awaits.
now, who doesn’t beleve in santa?
we came. we saw. we conquered.
fun in the sandpit
pronker – big in asia.
bentleys and rollers.
its all about the anticipation.
downton abbey auditions.
half decent red, with the village idiot.

Day Fourteen.

DATE:
12 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Tim G

This was to be the last day before our journey pause.

In the morning there was a lot of sucking in of teeth, shaking heads and tales of doom involving big distances, sharp rocks, gnarley sand, underground caverns, Yeti, local moped gangs and all sorts of other horrors.

True to form the driving and the country was an absolute delight, the desert changed to a rolling land of sparse what looked like (but didn’t taste like) chives. Herds of goats and sheep grazed away overseen by shepherds mounted on tiny Mongolian ponies, groups of spring moulting shaggy brown Bactrian camels shimmered in the distance looking like herds of what would have once been mammoth on the steppe grasslands, Gers sat against the mountains cosily clinging on to their livestock.

We even went through a couple of towns, and amazingly no one got lost… (for long).

Then we reached the ‘Great Dune’. The first of the day’s legendary potential disasters. A range of sand mountains stretched like stark beige alps across our route, we headed for the lowest bit and ploughed through in our ‘Grenadier drags the Bentley’ routine, Land Rovers skipping along and in true fashion the Porsche at super high-speed passing before its sound had time to catch up with it. Once we had regrouped and out on the plains we set off again anticipating our next potential disaster ‘Gnarly crap dirt’.

After passing over (European) kilometres of chive grass for hours we realised that the ‘Gnarly crap dirt’ was just a legend like ‘Shock headed Peter’ or ‘the good old days’.

The ‘Gnarly crap dirt’ was magnificent rolling chive grass with us all spread out like extras from Mad Max. Camera Ben was standing in the back of the Quartermaster howling like a punk Australian film extra with a camel skull on his head – Ok that’s not true… But it was a fantastic drive and an amazing end to the first part of our trip.

We entered our camp in a red arrows formation of stunning complexity and dragged cases off to our beautiful rooms, a shower and the end to another great day.

tough.
shagpile
mountains
ibex
dunes
hile
MadMax
deep
dust
vast
Arid
Lost
generations
hasselblad
Lightspeed

Day Thirteen.

DATE:
11 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Tim G

Day 13 Sea of Sand

Bleary eyed we all emerged from our Gers ready for a 6.00 am kick off. The first thing to do was get all our vehicles back through the sand we had got stuck in the night before, it was easy said Sergeant Phil, the silica in the sand hardens up overnight and makes it easier to plough over.

After a couple of vehicles had got through the fuel truck barged down the hill and roared over the dunes, chewing up the cold hard morning sand neatly in impressive plumes, we watched with a slight hint of despair…

By 7.00 we were all assembled ready for the last bit of sand , Bentleys jumping and roaring onto a firmer track accompanied by a constant chorus of encouragement in something resembling  Afrikaans, then we were through and another big day of Mongolian mileage stretched ahead. Again we zig zagged across huge ancient sea beds heading towards distant hills which gradually came nearer out of the blue distance.

According to our guide the Mongolian plateau was an ancient inland sea 300 million years ago, gradually drying out to be the Gobi desert around 70 million years ago, the whole area a desiccated dinosaur fossil mine of outstanding quality presenting the first dinosaur eggs and evidence of feathered dinosaurs. With this spirit of scientific endeavour in mind we decided to launch the drones and fly them behind moving cars to see what might happen, no fossils but tons of cool footage for Sam and George.

After a couple of hours of well-behaved and pleasant driving along a sandy river bed with beautifully lit green and red mountains. We stopped on a hill with a spring, grass, some local desert iris plants and 4G which caused a dusty rush to the top grasping phones and a slow walk back to the cars as the signal inevitably disappeared.

The land rovers rattled along, bits being replaced by the ever-ready Ben and Toby, the Bentleys grunted and farted like angry bulls, the Grenadiers purred like lazy cats and kicked up dust clouds, the Porsche seemed to fly about like a hyperactive child after a sherbet dab too many.

Gradually through the afternoon we began to reach the sand we had been promised. After a bit of bravado from various quarters we hitched Bentleys to the back of Grenadiers and dragged them the last 12 (Mongolian) kilometres to a beautiful camp surrounded by rippling dunes.  The LandRovers picked and tip toed their way along as they do. The Porsche obviously had to get there very fast and with maximum noise and entertainment, well done Sam!

We all got in safe and sound, (thanks sergeant Phil), the showers worked, we had a very convivial evening in a gazebo surrounded by cars and then Gregg arrived back from a 600 (European) kilometre drive in the green grenadier and the evening reached a loud crescendo!

Early start again tomorrow we agreed and bedtime.

—————————————-

[*A Mongolian kilometre on this trip is a measurement of distance which may vary from 200metres something over a league.]

juey.
sand.
rugged.
tart.
committee.
rehab.

Day Twelve.

DATE:
10 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Tim G, George, Toby.


An early start in the morning cool of the canyon we had spent the night. Our column grunted rattled and snorted itself awake and began climbing higher into the surrounding hills on narrow tracks. We had to press on as the day was promising to be a big Mongolian 240km* one and as the pace gathered over the crests, we settled into the undulating descent onto a mixture of ancient lakebed and rolling gravel hills.

Spurred on by the harsh barking of sergeant Philistine – who insisted that we couldn’t stop for a pee for 10 minutes, stop again 10 minutes later for a coffee, then break down 15 minutes after that, but had to combine all of three them in one stop. I think we all found this very difficult to understand but a continual verbal barrage from the foul mouthed NCO eventually got through so we got some pace on and with practice, could stand around a broken down land rover drinking a coffee while having a pee.

 We drove down a vast valley, zig zagging on the dusty corrugated trails all day, jagged peaks in the far distance gradually coming closer like Tolkein mountains, constantly urged on by Phil’s staccato threats and instructions.

The afternoon was spent in more beautifully stratified canyons and descending a vast steep dry rocky riverbed towards the inevitable end of play Gobi desert sand, deep and soft and uneven, with lots of towing and plumes of dirt we arrived at an oasis camp. Expecting dancing girls like a 1960’s Turkish delight advert, we instead had Phil covered in dirt and dust having towed the fuel lorry out of a pit with three Grenadiers in tandem- not that glamorous.

As we were enjoying our first oasis sundowner overlooking the camels drinking area (I presume it was camel poo). We had our final bit of the day 11 desert experience when a hot sandstorm blew up at dusk and flattened the dining tent, so using our initiative we all piled into Ben and Toby’s Ger and had supper there, lovely! I think the wine was Tiganello and we all parted in a good mood.

——–

[*A Mongolian kilometre on this trip is a measurement of distance which may vary from 200metres something over a league.]

A contribution from Toby

ROG, the problem child

Maybe it was his early fame , photographed out side the Grenadier pub at the launch of the Grenadier project , he certainly has “issues”

For the last few days we have rebuilt his fuel system repeatedly, rebuilt his carburetor, fine tuned the points and built a bonnet venting system and yet still he misbehaves.

Today started well but quickly SLEAZY and DAUB found themselves pandering to his needy gear changes, shortness of breath and tantrums!

By the end of the day, ROG had no bonnet or doors, yet despite this he sailed through the unwelcome sand dunes unassisted to avoid his ASBO for another day.

A contribution from George

Mongolia, dunes

The middle week of the cavalcade across Mongolia was always going to be the toughest. No roads, no signal, no home comforts, just endless goat trials, sand dunes and Gobi desert.

We have gently nursed as well as battled our vehicles along, from 1920s Bentleys to 2020s Grenadiers, through the toughest terrain. In parallel, as we are in such inhospitable parts of the world, we have organised a fuel tanker to follow us.
Faultless and dependable, this truck has appeared every evening, even hours later at our camp.

Without this fuel tanker, our Mongolia rally is over. So today, with as last 5 km of pure sand, the fuel tanker hesitated to come any closer to where we needed him. Eventually, with our encouragement, he made his way towards the camp, and immediately stuffed the truck into deeper sand. Two Toyotas tried to recover him, with no success, making the situation even worse.

The day was saved however, by a train of three Grenadiers tided bumper to bumper to bumper. On the count of three, all tugged together with an incredible display pulled out the 25 tonne truck from the deepest dunes Mongolia has to offer.

Tomorrow has been saved.

green green grass of home.
hot work.
problem child
three grenadiers dragged it out.
truly stuck.
howling wind.
rebadged.
bentley’s cruising.
bogged.
1920’s – 1980’s

Day Eleven.

DATE:
09 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Tim G

After a day spent ‘Spannering’ with Ben and Toby and making our overalls a rather attractive mix of grease and sandgunge the cars were in peak form and ready for the off, every nipple was greased, every filter blown through, every tyre adjusted, fuels and levels full.

We  decided that it was going to be another long day so pointed our beasts at the horizon and at the designated signal from Sergeant Phil saying something like ‘I say chaps why don’t we leave now,- OK by you?’ but obviously in a more direct way, we left punctually at 7.00.

At 7.05 we stopped as some of our group had a crisis of conscious and decided to return some ‘stolen’ property they had on board but had got lost due to the complexity of the camp layout and the fact that we were a couple of hundred yards away.

When the team regrouped at 7.30 we left again and drove through sandy rocky desert scrub, sometimes corrugated, sometimes rocky, sometimes smooth always a little unpredictable and getting quite hot.

Rog the old Land Rover began misfiring in a perverse nod to the hours of loving attention Ben and Tony had lavished on it the previous day, a little cough here, a misfire there, a lack of power, the inevitable pull over and open the bonnet. ‘Shall we do coffee now?’ at least 10 heads crammed into the engine bay with as many opinions, some just dropped into conversation, some serious, some blatantly copied from the guy next door, some just out of thin air “Check the plugs, check the oil, could be the distributor, could be the coil”… does this bit have a bell? What are these four round things?

In the end it was suggested we take the bonnet and doors off, not because they helped particularly but the car just did look cool, so that solved that!

Many stops later we started climbing into some highlands away from the rocky scrub we had been in all day. Everyone was tired, long distances and heat had hit us just before we got into camp.

The last image is Richard wrestling with what looked like a trouser press as he tried to get satellite reception in a box canyon. Useless machine, didn’t work as a press or a satellite dish!

leaving camp. the dyer’s are lost already.
poser.
landrover squad.
bentley squad.
wild but bridled.
off with the hood.
canyon.

Day Ten – Rest

DATE:
08 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Day Ten. Rest.

A day of complete inactivity. Except for the mechanics. Everyone trying to recover. The temperature has soared to 41 degrees and there is no avoiding this unbearable heat. A couple of the guys went for a short jog. We managed a walk along the side of a giant granite monolith carved by sandstorms over many millions of years. We saw eagles and swallows and large extra terrestrial lizards the likes of which we have never seen before. It is extraordinary that anyone or anything could survive in this hostile environment but they do. We see the occasional ger and wonder how they even find water.

The mechanics had a full day of it. The cars are showing real signs of fatigue and it is becoming goal number one to bring them all home.

We have another long day tomorrow so we have opted for an earlier start of 6.30am. Despite that everyone is still up after dinner having a drink by the fire.

Tim G will be writing the blog for the next couple of days. See you soon. I’ll be back!

workshop. george dicking.
assistant to the assistant mechanic.
chief mechanic.
assistant mechanic
bluebird going for land speed record.
baby t-rex
bedouin.
he went that way.
ascending.
granite treks.
swiss cheese.
other worldly.
granite monolith.

Day Nine – Sand Traps

DATE:
08 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Sand Traps.

And so we had a new one this morning. Sand. We are travelling across gravelly plains at the moment, arid mountains in the distance. The wind has picked up and is scorching. The sun beats down from a cloudless sky.

From time to time there is a broad gully where the flash floods create temporary rivers. And there we find sand not gravel.

The Bentleys simply cannot cope with sand as there is little traction on the thin rear wheels. And so it becomes a towing relay. We use a grenadier all diffs locked and tow the Bentleys through. Straightforward until we get to the rise at the end. This requires muscle power from 7 or 8 guys plus grenadier and engine on in Bentley. But it works and so far so good. We round Robin all the Bentleys and the Porsche.

I am writing this section at first coffee and so far we have encountered two gullies so two lengthy operations. The Porsche hasn’t made either.

No sooner had coffee finished and we had got the 10 car train going again that we were stopped by a roving border patrol Land Cruiser with three Vietcong in camo. Or so they looked. One was amenable the other two looked mean. It was a strange relief a quarter of an hour later when they waved us on. Two unsmiling.

We are now parked up for lunch. The car is registering 33 but it feels 40. The arid wind is blowing. The sun is vertical so there is no shade. Ben has his head under a bonnet tinkering. We are all seeking shade where there isn’t any. A couple of wild but extremely friendly dogs sauntered over and played with us for awhile.

The day had much more in store for us. Several hours later and another 100km further we had a crisis.

Our local guide had received a call. Remarkably there was a signal. Catastrophically we had left Big Ben the photographer behind at the lunch stop. 90km back. We had forgotten him. He had gone up some rocky slope to film our lunch departure but had not told anyone to pick him up. This is quite dangerous out here. He had no water. We didn’t know if he would move.

We caucused and agreed Gregg should go back in a grenadier. We were a guide down but unbeknownst to us the grenadier also had some of the spare fuel on the roof. Later in the day we would run out of fuel. Gregg had a round trip of 180km and we were still 100km from camp. This is 1500 hours.

The last 100km was interminable. Tough going over tough terrain. Rog broke down several times. We had a steep climb which the Bentleys coped with but we needed to tow up the Porsche.

The two landrovers ran out of fuel and were running on vapours. We managed to scrounge a bit out of two empty Jerry cans. We were now clean out of fuel. A day which was supposed to be 180km was now 260km.

It was 8.30 in the evening and the final 30km was over flat desert. The group broke up into splinters. George and I at the front waited for the group to catch up as the sun was nearing the horizon. They didn’t. The lead guide turned back to find them. We carried on without a guide as it grew dark but we became lost. A car from the camp came out to find us headlights on.

We finally found the camp. And waited. 20 mins later as the sun was virtually set the rest of the camel train arrived. Rog was being towed. Everyone was wiped out. It was 9.30pm and dark. Then Gregg arrived in the grenadier with Big Ben. God knows how he found his way. And then to cap it all the fuel bowser truck arrived all lights blazing.

The camp was a bit shambolic. The showers weren’t working.

We hit the gin and tonics. Stuff the showers. 14 hours on the road is simply too much.

juey social.
blogging.
wired for sound.
spot the cars
sand relay.
rare green.
cashmeres.
bactrians.
glitch.
tough car the bentley.
dawn wall.
race for camp.
not far to go.
fuel truck, last in.
meursault.
late arrival.

Day Eight

DATE:
08 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Day Eight.

Hasn’t started well.

It really hasn’t. We left camp and within 100m Rog coughed and dropped. Ben took the carburettor apart again. This is grit we don’t like.

A kilometre on and Sam’s steering rod broke loose. Another Ben rescue required.

Meanwhile I had soldiered on but the roads are brutally corrugated and my speed was limited to 10-15kph.

We passed a couple of herds of goats and sheep a thousand strong. God knows where they find water. There was a small community with a couple of solar panels to charge the ubiquitous iPhones that infest the planet nowadays.

Just beyond the village we stopped for a coffee to let the back contingent catch up as it is easy to get lost in this immense desert.

And then our next disaster struck. Believe it or not (we didn’t) we encountered a marsh. My Bentley slithered to a stop and floundered in the mud. We manoeuvred a grenadier to give it a tow but the grenadier bogged down. So we bring the next grenadier into play to pull the thoroughly stuck first grenadier out. We used the winch to stay out of trouble.

The winch just dragged the good vehicle towards the bogged one despite all brakes applied. We resorted to manpower and winch and the bogged grenadier in all diffs. Hey presto. But only just.

We then towed each Bentley across the marsh one by one. Successfully. Three hours down and 15km achieved. 165km still to go.

And so we battled on with the corrugations which shake and rattle these old cars into their

component pieces. It’s like a disassembly line!!!

We are currently stopped for lunch at 1330. Spirits remain buoyant despite quite a daunting challenge ahead of us. It is well over 30 degrees. The sun is beating down and there is zero shade.

Ben is cleaning my spark plugs as my car conked out at the lunch spot and wouldn’t resume. Rather like an incalcitrant camel. He is wire brushing my plugs as we speak. Sounds unpleasant!!

And so it continued for mile after mile. Corrugations, overheating engines, camels and endless desert. Rog broke down a further two times with carb issues. My exhaust pulled off again. We have just stopped in a cool canyon to enjoy the view to discover that Ben hardly made it out of the last coffee stop over an hour ago. Because we are 10 cars with probably 200m between each when we are travelling on dusty tracks ( 200m because otherwise you eat large quantities of dust) the last car is 2km back and impossible to see. So here we sit in the canyon awaiting news.

We made it. We all cruised in battered and bruised at about 1800. We finished driving through an amazing canyon hundreds of millions of years old.

The camp was a very welcome sight. Again the vehicles not to mention us had been tested. We could see China a mere 15km away.

Glorious wilderness. But it has not beaten us yet.

More to come!!

mouse.
blind leading the blind.
ferry crossing.
the marsh.
two cars down.
slick slurry.
operation marsh.
tortured.
geologists wet dream.
when we were proud of british engineering.
staged for effect.
parasol up!
shooting from the hip.
sam’s bentley.
grand canyon mongolia.
strung out.
mongolian bridge technology.
wild west.

Day Seven

DATE:
06 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Another day in which the older vehicles have been pushed to their limits. 350km on road, fake road and off road. (FYI fake roads are a bit like British roads…death traps full of pot holes you could lose a cyclist in)

Today we said goodbye to the snow and the lakes. Tomorrow we say hello to the Gobi.

As ever there was an early gremlin. Some 10km out of camp, in the morning, my Bentleys exhaust came apart. Which is poetic because my exhaust was the only one to have survived so far of the three Bentleys.

Fortunately we had Sam who was happy to roll around in the dirt under the car. What we thought was going to be a 5 minute repair of course wasn’t. It was 35mins. So much for getting some distance under our belt early, in our longest day of the trip. We fortuitously had the three musketeers all appropriately dressed in car overalls. Sleazy, Chilly Philly and Peachy. They assured me that they were fully up for rolling up their sleeves but Big Ben arrived with his cine camera and that was the last we usefully saw of the three mechanics. Think fashion overalls.

We enjoyed our customary coffee stops, fuel stops and local people mesmerised by the sight of the Bentleys.

No dramas today except for a short but torrential downpour. Just a very very long day. Eleven hours of driving.

Tomorrow however starts a very different phase of the journey. We venture into the very remotest part of Mongolia for a week. Even the locals don’t make it out there. It’s easy to get lost. Dust storms, sand storms and very hot.

The Gobi Desert awaits

three bentleys. it does not get any better than this.
thumbs up!
rog. blending in.
Grid lock. Bentleys, goats, sheep, cars, horses and locals.
young boys.
scenery on steroids.
bronze age monuments to bygone warriors.

Day Six

DATE:
06 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Each day brings the unexpected.

The day before when the leisure group went searching for snow leopards Ben and his smaller but more dedicated team gave the vehicles a really thorough once over. Every nipple was greased ☺. I am assured.

So to today we set off at 8.30 and, despite Bens best efforts, a mere 300 metres out of camp Rog grinds to a shuddering halt. Ben throws the kitchen sink at it. But one and a half hours later he discovers its lousy fuel with bits in it.

So another day where we get to 1500 and we are only half way. Hey ho.

The highlight of the day however came at the very end. The camp was set up in the foothills of some very grand mountains at 2000m. The climb from the road below was over 2000 feet. And amongst this was a giant sand dune. Valiant though the Bentleys are they are only two wheel drive and narrow wheels at that. The summit of the dune was probably over 20% and it was simply too much. They all started wheel spinning about 50m from the summit.

On comes the rescue squad. Winches, tow ropes, shackles you name it we’ve got it!!

The Grenadier pulled the two ton Bentley backwards up a 20% slope in thick sand. Nothing short of miraculous.

Boys toys. Doesn’t get better.

We finished with a fine uphill run, a few Ibex, gin and tonics around the fire and some splendid Pomerol.

Lone wolf
so typifies the journey
Desert and snow
in need of constant attention.
intermidable.
another fuel stop.
evening jog.

Day Five – Of Eagles and Snow Leopard.

DATE:
04 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Day Five – Of Eagles and Snow Leopard.

A day of leisure today. We have two nights at this high altitude camp.

Whilst taking a morning coffee looking over the glacial run-off by the camp we saw four horse riders approaching some way off. One seemed to be waving frantically.

As they got closer it became apparent that he was not waving. He had a golden eagle on his arm which was flapping its wings agitated by the horses gait.

Four horses, four costumed Mongolian hunters and four golden eagles.

They had come to introduce us to one of the oldest customs in the land.

They were cheerful but proud individuals. The eagles were a part of each of their families. The eagles sleep in their family ger.

They only teach females. They are bigger than the males. Remarkably they release the bird to the wild when it reaches maturity at about 7 years old. And when they raid the nest they take the weaker of the pair which is habitually heaved out of the nest by the stronger sibling.

n0w, why that 0rder?
1929 – 1955
magnificent
magazine cover
three times mongolian eagle champion.
wolf coat
handsome one on the left
bentley double up
eagle hatrick
encampment
zero pollution
gold teeth.
be nice
grenadier mongolia.

Day 4 – Gentle Day.

DATE:
04 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Gentle Day. 

We had earned a gentle day. A leisurely 8.30 breakfast in our hotel in Ulgi. Our only hotel of the trip I am told! Al

Calling it breakfast was a gross exaggeration. More like Dickens gruel. Mongolian style. 

Ben, Jussi, Toby and Gregg however had risen at 6am to tinker with our delicate assembly of automotive icons which had taken a proper battering the day before. 

We (the leisure group) arrived at the garage lock up in the town at 9am to find cars oiled, greased and ready to roll. 

And so we did. We rolled. Out of town. Onto an utterly deserted but wonderful highway. The Bentleys purred along. Such glorious roads were not wasted on our four and a half litre Bentleys. 

We had a coffee stop by a large lake at about 70km and exchanged village gossip. 

We motored another 40km along this smooth private highway. Took a left onto gravel. And then cruised 35km to our camp nestled beneath a 4000m peak topped in bright white fresh snow. The camp was at 2500m. 

We were treated to a late afternoon Mongolian archery lesson. The bow here dates back to 5000bc. Made from ibex horn and wood and horse ligament. Lethal. But the protagonists were colourfully dressed and colourful characters. They seemed unperturbed by our uncertain prowess. Not surprisingly as we didn’t have any. 

A jog, a dinner, a few bottles of Ornellaia, and a smidgen of vodka topped off a very fine day. 

BACKDROP.
BOW-WOMAN.
FIRE SQUAD.
MISSED.
GRUBS UP.
SHADES OF GREY.
A WAY TO GO.
NEW TRIBAL ELDERS.

Day Three. The journey begins.

DATE:
02 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Day three. The journey begins.

7am breakfast, 8am sharp handbrakes off. Little did we know we would reach our destination a distant 13 hours later. A proper adventure day. And as much attrition as you could throw at cars built almost a hundred years ago and 75 years ago in a single day. It was a miracle that they survived frankly, which they did, but only just. They were all, without exception, battered and bruised and injured by the end. 

180k all off road. We didn’t see another vehicle or person. Large groups of horses, cashmere goats and occasionally a cow. Giant marmots and some exotic birds the finest of which was the Ruddy Shelduck. A glorious golden colour. 

The Steppes are endless flat plains of grazing. But extremely meagre grazing. And it can be flat flat which is marvellous for driving on. Sadly, only from time to time. 

The scenery was mind blowing, blow your cotton socks off, all day. Snow capped mountains, blue lakes, endless green plains, and rocks the size of St Paul’s cathedral, of all colours, erupting from the steppes. Truly stunning. And glorious weather to boot. 

However the day was far from without incident. The terrain was really tough for much of the day. Rocky sections, rain gullies, steep mountain climbs, ruts, razor sharp rocks, corrugations and sand. It required total concentration. If you missed a hole or a rock then wish goodbye to your wheel or suspension. 

The first casualty was my Bentley. The beefy steering rod linking the front two wheels vibrated loose, dropped down and then snagged on the ground bending the thick heavy bar into a banana. The car was completely broken and undriveable, the front wheels splayed apart. That is until Ben got his spanner’s out and worked miracles. He managed to straighten the bar using a Grenadier winch and some counter leverage. A bit of genius. 

That all took 90 minutes. 

We then discovered Bens Bentley also had an identical defect so had to carry out further repairs. 

And then George’s Bentley headlight broke loose on a dodgy bracket. It had to be removed. 

And to cap it all George’s and Ben’s Bentleys both had the exhausts broken off with the constant vibrations and occasional grounding.

The time was now 1500 following multiple mechanical stops and we had not reached half way.

We cracked on. Another two one hour driving sessions. And then we stopped to view some rare Bactrian camels grazing by the road only to find I had a fuel leak. Ben sorted with a mallet in good British style. 

On we went and then Felicity ground to a shuddering halt in the 1955 Landrover called Rog.  We towed it for awhile then bumped into Ben who (in rescue mode again!) got out his feeler gauges. Another miracle worked and Rog was firing back on all cylinders again. Well most anyway. 

We finally approached the town and final destination at 8pm at night. And there Jue, the 1948 LandRover, gave a big sigh and packed up for the day. We wheeled it into the garage lock up. Tomorrows problem. 

Quite some attrition for one day. All three Bentleys and both landies had had their beatings but all limped in. 

The Grenadiers were peerless. From another generation. 

FYI. Ben’s Bentley becomes Sam’s Bentley from tomorrow when he and Philistine arrive from Namibia. 

plains drifter.
convoy.
porsche out in front.
age before beauty.
brothers in arms.
best of british.
shag carpet.
breather.
To the hills.
number 1 salute.
fucked!
idyllic.
cashmere goats crossing.
miracle workers.

Day Two. Hail.

DATE:
01 Jun 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

Day Two. Hail.

A relaxed day. Chilled breakfast in the mess ger to start. Then a few photo selections for the previous days blog and general fannying around. 

And then we decided to take the four Grenadiers up to the snow line. A serious climb up into the mountain range. But managed with ease in the Grenadiers. A few monster marmots on the way up and an Upland Buzzard resplendent in his beigey plumage. We summitted on a desolate col and set up the coffee station. The next minute the hail came down in blinding waves. The size of frozen peas. As the ground began to turn white we beat a hasty retreat as we didn’t wish to finish up like the Donner party, stranded, and then eating each other. 

We passed several grave cairns from many thousands of years BC. Untouched and respected by the locals who circle three times for luck. 

We enjoyed some keep fit on our return by the lake followed by a jog. And then headed out to the end of the lake for a sundowner. A bit of larking around off road ensued. 

A thoroughly well spent day off day. 

Mongolian summer.
grenadier traffic jam.
one hour later on!
lake drama!
mountain drama!
masterful extraction.
Happy Times.
car allocation.
we tried to have coffee.
eight legs.
Raining in Russia.
Belstaff reunion.
Wave if you are happy.
Lord of the rings.

Day One. Snow.

DATE:
31 May 2023
AUTHOR:
Jim

The locals clearly don’t see Gulfstream’s too often. And certainly not two matching ones. We landed earlyish in the city of a’s. Yes for the pub quiz aficionados amongst you Ulaanbaatar, capital of Mongolia. We had quite an audience. 

The two teams intermingled in the Chinese funded and built VIP lounge. Old habits die hard. Sadly the coffee didn’t live up to the fresh new decor. 

Passing through to the freedom side we emerged into pleasant sunlight and a startling array of machines all gleaming and polished and bright. Quite a sight. Ben had been busy during his few extra days in Mongolia. 

Coffees were brewing using some fancy inverter that Ben had fashioned in the rear of a mushroom coloured Grenadier. Klara skilfully produced flat whites from techy Nespresso frothers whilst we strolled around the car collection. 

But the show had to get on the road. The Bentleys coughed into life. The rallye Porsche strained against the leash. And the four Grenadiers purred. 

And off we went. A bit of road to acclimatise but quickly replaced by gravel, rocks and plenty of dust. 

We eased in. The Bentleys take a bit of nursing before they are inclined to obey commands and they are skittish on the gravel. 

We climbed a step raveen and were met with a fine and breezy sandwich lunch at the top. More socialising and we set off again. The scenery is drama upon drama. It is Namibia on steroids. I certainly have never seen its equal. Snow capped 4000m peaks. Gigantic lakes. And vastness. Circling vultures and kites. But scale and emptiness are what strikes you most. We have certainly found a new wilderness. A rapidly diminishing commodity in this new world of ours. 

We finished with the customary gin and tonic nestled in a small valley down by a huge lake. We watch the sun set over the water. Russia on the far away bank. We then retreated to our custom made village of characteristic round gers and enjoyed supper. 

There was a moment at the top of one of the passes we crossed when Catherine was startled by white specks sticking to her thick coat. I told her it was pollen from the wildflower meadows. A poor subterfuge given there were no flowers. 

It was mid summer snow.