The Ultimate Overland

  At last, destination achieved, although a little later than anticipated last night. No one could tell us what the duration of the crossing would be. We had various answers ranging from 14 hours to 20 hours. The longer time seemed depressingly unlikely. By last night the food was running thin, we’d already eaten the same fare several times, being a soup at first, turning to thin gruel with the addition of more water and not much food. It’s amazing how one adjusts. We would have turned up our noses at such food at home but here, alongside Turkmen, Azerbaijani and Russian drivers, we tucked in much like the prisoners we had become. No coffee either but we raided Nigel’s emergency bottle of Balvenie and polished it off rather quickly.   The water ran out. No shower, no washing of hands, no brushing of teeth and no flushing of the loo….. In the morning we expected to find land, perhaps even be docked, as we woke. A quick dress and up onto the top deck revealed sea in all directio...

  At 10:50 approximately 48 hours after arriving in the port, we are leaving  

  A quick update whilst we have 4G alongside the quay; there will be none if/when we sail and I’m not entirely sure about Turkmenistan and the internet. We may be ‘dark’ for a while.   It’s been a day of highs and lows. Now at 6.30 pm we are still trying to work out what is happening. We have established that there is a sensor which needs to be replaced in one of the engines. Various departure times have been offered: 1pm (we thought unlikely), tomorrow sometime (depressing) but hope springs eternal and the latest update is the part has arrived, it is being fitted and sailing tonight is a strong possibility (we are not counting our chickens and I will only post this as we slip away from the dock).  Wish us luck…… Mmm.. update at 8.00am. Still here.  Nigel was woken last night by the 2nd mate to be asked for assistance in the engine room. Nigel woke Chris and together they performed a dance of misunderstanding via Google translate which resulted in them returning to t...

We are now on the ferry!   Ok, that’s possibly giving an optimistic slant to a development which has befallen us. Our embarkment was in two stages. Whilst waiting to board in the sun yesterday afternoon, Chris (who else?) got chatting and arranged for us to leave the cars on the quayside and we went aboard to rest in our cabins and have a bit of chicken and chips, in the dining room. We all understood the jeopardy of the situation, which needs no spelling out (what could possibly go wrong?)    but we accepted the risk……… As soon as we sat down to our feast, we got the call to drive the cars on! You see we took the risk and won. Cars on board we returned to our now cold and even more congealed chicken and chips. Also the dining room is an exaggeration. This is a truckers ferry!  We had our own supplies of booze (none available to buy on the ship) and set about gaining the perfect balance of booze filled tummies, but not overly much to cause nausea, because the wind wa...

  There is much to talk about today. We departed from the hotel and immediately got stuck in Baku morning rush hour traffic. The obvious and quicker route was rejected by the lead car as being too, well, obvious. After several u-turns, thrice traversed roundabouts, multiple lane changes we discovered we had travelled 500 feet from our hotel after 29 minutes of driving. We split up; not because of disgruntlement nor a lack of team spirit but you can’t run a convoy of four vintage cars through a city in rush hour.   We arrived at the port to be told “no ferries for two days”. We enquired further. “Niet” or its equivalent was the firm response. Chris, the hustler moved seamlessly into hustle mode. “Are you sure? We are guests of the assistant to the president”. A photo of his Instagram was produced showing us, yesterday, lined up with him outside the museum. Things started to happen. A place for four cars miraculously appeared on the ferry which is due to leave this afternoon at ...

  Another day off (sorry, rallying is exhausting and your average rally athlete requires at least two days of a week). Actually, it is to do with ferries. There is no booking system and ferries leave when they are full but the wind has got up and so sailings today were cancelled. We are going to the port tomorrow, to see if what we have learnt by phone, is really correct. Watch this space.   So we enjoyed a private tour of the Heydar Aliyev Museum, designed by Zaha Hadid. It is a simply sumptuous building of compound curves, whiteness and deliciousness (do you think Architects Weekly will invite me to contribute? Such prose, such description.) We were all bowled over, but it is not the only building which stuns, here in Baku. There are plenty. We learned that the Russians used to ‘confiscate’ 93% of Azerbaijan’s income. Now with independence, since 1991, the country is becoming increasingly sophisticated and cosmopolitan. The people are incredibly friendly and helpful. They lo...

  Having achieved a glorious success yesterday in crossing the border (this is even rarer than we had estimated; many bystanders ask “where did you come from? The border is closed!”), we had a return to a little rally drudgery today. But let me tell you of our dinner first.   Nellie and Caron had tried for some time to find a suitable restaurant, sufficiently near to allow us to walk, sufficiently good to allow us to eat, sufficiently hygienic to enable us to see our food once only. They gave up. I googled ‘Michelin starred restaurant in Ganja’. Three results popped up. None had come anywhere near to having an undercover Michelin assessor in their establishments, but it served a purpose. We chose the nearest and indubitably the best (I always worry about that word, do I mean undoubtedly instead?) Through a mixture of mime and Google translate we ordered a bottle of finest Azerbaijan red wine, no beer being on the menu and we all decided against the neat vodka alternative. It w...

  Well, the rally gods performed. All four cars are now in Azerbaijan, along with a full compliment of occupants (actually that is quite an achievement for us, given the last border debacle). Anyway, as a result of the kindness and help of friends, friends of friends, delightful strangers (except by email, who we hope to meet and thank) and the ‘passport’ of our cars, we have overcome the logistical barriers to drive a car into Azerbaijan.   We arrived at the border to be greeted by a very non-plussed Georgian policeman. His look was of total disdain. He was anticipating sending us straight back to where we had come from. Passports were rendered. V5s presented. Driving licences produced. He was on the walkie talkie telling his boss the hilarity of the situation unfolding before him. His boss sauntered towards us, with that special swagger those in uniform have. “Papers” he demanded. At this stage, Ham played our ace card and handed him an invitation to enter Azerbaijan from so...