The Ultimate Overland

  We made it! Well, nearly. Paperwork issues (or should that be  paper-no-work? ) and a rules-based country where there is little wiggle room for non compliance of anything was asking too much. Never mind, we tell ourselves — we are here, even if the cars got no further than the shipping agents’ warehouse just across the border, on the southern tip of Malaysia. It’s no biggie: the first ever rally Nellie and I did was called  The Casablanca Challenge , which went nowhere near Casablanca, so in that respect we’ve been more successful. Pedants might also point out that our cars were transported through Turkmenistan, so we’ve already bent the “London to Singapore” truth a touch. On the upside, we are now in Singapore a day early, and Raffles have kindly allowed us to stay for an extra night (despite being full). It’s not what you know, etc. Our celebratory dinner is tomorrow night, and the challenge for today is not to celebrate so much that we become incapable of repeating ...

  I think we are all beginning to feel a rising of the sap; vitality is awakened, excitement builds. Only 600 km to go! But with this knowledge comes a certain wariness. Over the last three months one’s ears have become attuned to the steady beat of the engine, but now any variation is noticed, analysed, gnawed over. Was that a new  thunk-thunk-thunk ? What about that whine? Has that been there all along and only now am I hearing it? Surely that knocking is indicative of white metal disintegrating. Aaaagh! It drives you mad. Even as I write this I know, logically, that just because we are near the end, what has worked for the last 96 days is quite likely to work for another three—but, but, oh my gosh, did you hear that? Ham, of course, has been hearing gremlins eating away at his engine for weeks now, but we—and he—are delighted to announce he has got this far. Another day; one fewer to conquer (yes, it’s  fewer , not  less ). Having arrived at the latest Hilton (I k...

  We left our beach hotel in a rainstorm, but it was nothing compared to last night. I mentioned Typhoon  Kalmeigi  in yesterday’s post, but it really grew into something spectacular — in noise and wind and rain and and and. The hotel owner, being an excellent musician, played both piano and guitar while we bawled out a string of pub belters, Google supplying the lyrics. A great evening. Back to today: we passed through the Thai border with the help of our guides without any problem, but then came the Malaysian side. Passport control was fine, but the customs man (who else?) said, “Carnet?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” was the précis of our reply. “No carnet, no entry,” he retorted. “What? You cannot be serious.” You get my drift — this went back and forth for a while. We explained that there was absolutely no mention of any requirement for a carnet (basically an expensive deposit guarantee to ensure you don’t import the car and sell it) on any Malaysian government website. Mr ...

The day started with a jolt. On checking my oil, I noticed that my fan belt had partially destroyed itself but was still hanging on by the canvas. A fan belt is doubly important because it drives the fan (duh) but also the water pump. Without that, we’d be stuffed. I had a spare. Was it the right size, though? I offered it up (as they say, in the lingo of those who know) and it seemed about right. But what if we couldn’t get the new one on, having cut the old one away? Fortune favours the brave and all that, so snip snip, off it came. The new one went on rather easily — in fact, alarmingly easily. In the vernacular, I would describe it as “baggy”. Oh well, nothing to do but worry that it would fly off and (see above) we’d be stuffed. I then discovered that my exhaust system was hanging not even by a thread. It was fixed front and back, but the mid-section rubber bobbin had severed itself and the silencer was clacking about like a maraca. I usually carry spare bobbins but, inexplicably,...

  After a super-quick oil change on the Lagonda we were ready to leave. Oh no — Paddy had gone cycling. He’d hired the bike yesterday and the shop didn’t open for returns before 10:00 🙄 So, what were we to do? Two of us broke ranks. We reasoned that having the guides in a modern vehicle was plenty of support for following Ham. After all, driving all the way to Singapore at 30 mph is a torture not everyone needs to endure every day. Nigel selected an excellent route through the mountains and, like schoolchildren playing hooky, we naughtily slid away. Teacher’s pet Chris opted to stay with the injured party and the guides on a more direct road. Our route took us through beautiful countryside and charming villages — a bucolic scene with a Thai twist. Soon though, the road started to break up: potholes again! Then dirt track! Then, on retracing our steps to find another way through, we came across a bridge that was no longer a bridge, just pieces of concrete strewn across the river. T...

Shirt competition Essex man exhaust  Chilling We couldn’t leave our deserted golf hotel quick enough today. Ham’s Lagonda sent smoke signals worthy of a papal conclave as we sped away. A merry-go-round of escorting, coffee stops, catching up, racing past, confusing the guides was the order of the day. Still the Lagonda plugs away, reaching our destination worryingly with a few low rev knocks to add to the air of apprehension.   We reside in a nice boutique hotel with a swimming pool. Tomorrow is supposed to be a rest day but on account of the town (Suratthani) being a dump and island hopping to Koh Samui being just too far we are planning to leave tomorrow and break the planned long journey towards the border into two days to help nurse the Lagonda onwards.  We might just fit in an oil change too if we can find 20/50 oil and hopefully a new filter.