Some good news, the snow stopped overnight and it seems fractionally warmer too. Bolstered by the improved weather we set about defrosting the car and prepare to hit the road.
In an earlier blog I said the roads were perfect…..What I SHOULD have said is that the roads which have been completed, are perfect… It seems the government has renewed the vast majority of roads, but has left the trickiest stretches until last. Many stretches of mountain road are still under construction and the surface is pretty horrendous.
Todays route is 700km, the first 200km of which are great and we make some good progress. Shortly after things start to change as we head into the mountains. It also seems as though we’re catching up with the weather, it starts to snow once again and the temperature plummets to well below freezing.
Some of the narrow mountain roads are little more than rubble, icy rubble. As we climb higher and higher into the mountains, the roads are lined with disabled trucks struggling to get traction on the long icy inclines. The air is thick with the pungent smell of burning clutch plates, fortunately not ours!
I recall the day we chose the tyres for the car back in England - Well, actually I left the decision to Chris Marchant at Vintage Tyres (www.vintagetyres.com) I briefed Chris on the trip and asked his advice regards a semi off-road tyre. Chris recommended the Vredenstein 15” Snow Plus tyre. What? A snow tyre? We’re heading through deserts and jungles! OK, its primarily designed for snow, but Chris explained that it also has the perfect combination of being very capable both on and slightly off, road. Well, what a great choice this proved to be.
The Vredenstein has proved itself time and time again. We’ve thrown every type of terrain at these now, from sand through through to mud, snow, ice and everything in between. We’re yet to have so much as a reduction in tyre pressure, let alone a puncture.
As well as the suitable tyres, Jerry has the obvious advantage of having the weight of the engine over the rear wheels, which is also helping us to keep on moving when others can’t.
At the summit of the mountain the road skirts around the shoreline of a huge natural lake, the scenery is spectacularly good. The road surface is spectacularly bad. Its obviously been snowing heavily up here for sometime, the snow has been compacted, then melted and re-frozen to form a 4” thick layer of sheet ice. A red warning sign flashes “-15 “ I thought it sounded a bit excessive, right up until I pulled over to take a leak, at which point it felt more like -115 ! The heater is still holding up and is doing a great job of keeping us not only alive but even too hot at times. (Check out the picture gallery for a few snaps of the mountain roads)
The descent is also pretty hairy, halfway down the mountain the ice has melted and the roads have turned to mud. Deep mud. Cars and grossly overlaiden trucks are sliding about all over the place, but once again our tyres prove their worth and we make it through incident free. :)
After a long day of 12 hours driving we pull into town. By the time we hit the sack its 1am...
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Yining (China)
Its snowing! Just a light dusting on the car at the moment, but its cold enough for it to settle.
After breakfast we motor out to the licensing centre and start the long, drawn out process of obtaining Chinese driving licences and vehicle registration plates.
The first port of call is the medical desk for an eyesight test. I quickly realise that I don’t have my glasses with me, but have a crack at it anyway. Despite a few wrong “guesses” we’re issued our medical approval certificate and sent on our way. (When taking an eyesight test, it always helps if your response is translated then dictated to the doctor by your translator - who also happens to be standing next to the eye test chart…!)
We leave the rest of the work to Serena, who spends the next couple of hours queuing in various lines in order to get the required rubber stamps on our paperwork. I use the spare down time to carry out a few minor jobs to the car - “FOG X” is applied to the interior side of all the windows, the plastic rain tray is fitted back underneath the engine grill and I finally manage to come up with a fix for the bonnet. (Its been popping open for weeks now)
An official comes out to inspect the car and take a pencil rubbing of the engine and body number stamps - Unfortunately he’s not happy with the aluminium data plate on the front slam panel and insists on inspecting the factory stamp on the bulkhead as well. A little inconvenient as it means I have to completely empty the luggage compartment in a snowstorm… But after checking this second number, he’s happy and issues the final stamp of approval. We collect our new Chinese driving licences and registration plate before heading back to the hotel for some liquid refreshments.
It’s a long drive through mountain roads tomorrow, if the snow persists overnight we’ll have to delay for another day. There are no gritting trucks over here; Snow, ice and Chinese drivers on narrow mountain roads can be a lethal combination.
After breakfast we motor out to the licensing centre and start the long, drawn out process of obtaining Chinese driving licences and vehicle registration plates.
The first port of call is the medical desk for an eyesight test. I quickly realise that I don’t have my glasses with me, but have a crack at it anyway. Despite a few wrong “guesses” we’re issued our medical approval certificate and sent on our way. (When taking an eyesight test, it always helps if your response is translated then dictated to the doctor by your translator - who also happens to be standing next to the eye test chart…!)
We leave the rest of the work to Serena, who spends the next couple of hours queuing in various lines in order to get the required rubber stamps on our paperwork. I use the spare down time to carry out a few minor jobs to the car - “FOG X” is applied to the interior side of all the windows, the plastic rain tray is fitted back underneath the engine grill and I finally manage to come up with a fix for the bonnet. (Its been popping open for weeks now)
An official comes out to inspect the car and take a pencil rubbing of the engine and body number stamps - Unfortunately he’s not happy with the aluminium data plate on the front slam panel and insists on inspecting the factory stamp on the bulkhead as well. A little inconvenient as it means I have to completely empty the luggage compartment in a snowstorm… But after checking this second number, he’s happy and issues the final stamp of approval. We collect our new Chinese driving licences and registration plate before heading back to the hotel for some liquid refreshments.
It’s a long drive through mountain roads tomorrow, if the snow persists overnight we’ll have to delay for another day. There are no gritting trucks over here; Snow, ice and Chinese drivers on narrow mountain roads can be a lethal combination.
Horgas to Yining (China)
We head out to town for a late breakfast, then Serena calls Customs to check on the status of the paperwork. Everything is ready so we’re set to go! Well, almost… Serena briefs us on the plan for the day ahead, first stop is the vehicle test centre. We need a pass certificate before the car can be registered with the Chinese authorities.
Serena explains that the vehicle test checks a lot of different items and questions if the car will make it through OK. Just as I’m about to say that it‘ll fly through, I remember that we’re still carrying a headlight fault from our night ride through the Kazakstan desert…..Ah great, I’ll have to fix this up before we can go anywhere.
Its bitterly cold and is starting to rain, but the work has to be done so I don my raincoat and head out to the parking lot to check out the problem. I was hoping for a faulty headlamp bulb, but I knew it wouldn’t be that simple, nothing ever is, especially when its cold, raining and you’re in a rush!
As suspected, the bulb was perfect but the offside ‘dip’ element of the headlamp was refusing to fire up.
I recalled the smell of burning Bakelite we encountered on the night the lights failed, and knew right away that the fault was probably due to either the light switch or the headlamp stalk switch - Fortunately I was carrying spares of both so it shouldnt be major problem for us.
A few quick checks confirm that it is indeed the steering column mounted headlamp dip switch. After removing the steering wheel and horn ring I encounter the first problem - The one piece cowling which surounds the steering column and houses the stalk switches, features some tiny slot headed screws which are recessed about 1”
I dig out the smallest screwdriver from the tool box, only to see that it’s fractionally too wide to enter the recess….Fortunately I also have a decent file in the tool box, so the next 10 minutes is spent filing down the screwdriver to the correct diameter. From here on it its smooth sailing and thirty minutes later the lights are back in action but my fingers are blue!
Onto the Chinese highway and the roads appear to be brilliant, exceptionally good in fact. We both had preconceived ideas about what Chinese roads would be like, back in the UK we reckoned that any country which eats dogs and cats was clearly going to have bad roads, it was obvious. For the most part we were to be proved very wrong..
The Chinese highway system has three main grades of road, it’s a straight forward system - The more money you pay, the better and/or faster the road you get to use. All three types are pretty good but the top grade, known as the “Express Way” is brilliant. Brand new, spotlessly clean asphalt with typically very little traffic and a relatively high speed limit of 120 kph.
Manual labour is very cheap here, gangs of road sweepers can be seen manually grooming the road surface, brushing loose debris into small piles at the side of the carriageway. The quality of the road surface itself tends to be flawless - As good as, if not better than, the roads in the UK.
There a long, long line of cars waiting to enter the vehicle test centre, we join the back of the queue and sit it out. Meanwhile Serena dives out of the car and into a nearby cab, bound for a nearby vehicle licensing office to get the registration document of the car translated into Chinese.
Ninety minutes later we arrive at the front of the queue, at which point the shutters are rolled down and the centre closes for the day. Shortly afterwards Serena appears and with some sweet talk to one of the station attendants, manages to get us the final test slot of the day.
The safety test, annual for Chinese registered vehicles, is fairly straight forward but still surprisingly advanced for what I always imagined to be a fairly basic country. Lights, horn and tyres are checked, the vehicle weighed, service and parking brake efficiency tested. Jerry breezes through it and thirty minutes later we’re issued a pass certificate.
By this time its too late to visit the vehicle licensing centre for issue of our Chinese driving licenses, so we make our way downtown and check into a hotel for the night. Only certain hotels in each city are permitted to accommodate foreign guests - Our hotel is a very smart, marble clad four star facility - But at £18 a night, it doesn’t break the bank.
The weather keeps on getting colder, the TV weather forecaster says theres a good chance of snow tomorrow....
Serena explains that the vehicle test checks a lot of different items and questions if the car will make it through OK. Just as I’m about to say that it‘ll fly through, I remember that we’re still carrying a headlight fault from our night ride through the Kazakstan desert…..Ah great, I’ll have to fix this up before we can go anywhere.
Its bitterly cold and is starting to rain, but the work has to be done so I don my raincoat and head out to the parking lot to check out the problem. I was hoping for a faulty headlamp bulb, but I knew it wouldn’t be that simple, nothing ever is, especially when its cold, raining and you’re in a rush!
As suspected, the bulb was perfect but the offside ‘dip’ element of the headlamp was refusing to fire up.
I recalled the smell of burning Bakelite we encountered on the night the lights failed, and knew right away that the fault was probably due to either the light switch or the headlamp stalk switch - Fortunately I was carrying spares of both so it shouldnt be major problem for us.
A few quick checks confirm that it is indeed the steering column mounted headlamp dip switch. After removing the steering wheel and horn ring I encounter the first problem - The one piece cowling which surounds the steering column and houses the stalk switches, features some tiny slot headed screws which are recessed about 1”
I dig out the smallest screwdriver from the tool box, only to see that it’s fractionally too wide to enter the recess….Fortunately I also have a decent file in the tool box, so the next 10 minutes is spent filing down the screwdriver to the correct diameter. From here on it its smooth sailing and thirty minutes later the lights are back in action but my fingers are blue!
Onto the Chinese highway and the roads appear to be brilliant, exceptionally good in fact. We both had preconceived ideas about what Chinese roads would be like, back in the UK we reckoned that any country which eats dogs and cats was clearly going to have bad roads, it was obvious. For the most part we were to be proved very wrong..
The Chinese highway system has three main grades of road, it’s a straight forward system - The more money you pay, the better and/or faster the road you get to use. All three types are pretty good but the top grade, known as the “Express Way” is brilliant. Brand new, spotlessly clean asphalt with typically very little traffic and a relatively high speed limit of 120 kph.
Manual labour is very cheap here, gangs of road sweepers can be seen manually grooming the road surface, brushing loose debris into small piles at the side of the carriageway. The quality of the road surface itself tends to be flawless - As good as, if not better than, the roads in the UK.
There a long, long line of cars waiting to enter the vehicle test centre, we join the back of the queue and sit it out. Meanwhile Serena dives out of the car and into a nearby cab, bound for a nearby vehicle licensing office to get the registration document of the car translated into Chinese.
Ninety minutes later we arrive at the front of the queue, at which point the shutters are rolled down and the centre closes for the day. Shortly afterwards Serena appears and with some sweet talk to one of the station attendants, manages to get us the final test slot of the day.
The safety test, annual for Chinese registered vehicles, is fairly straight forward but still surprisingly advanced for what I always imagined to be a fairly basic country. Lights, horn and tyres are checked, the vehicle weighed, service and parking brake efficiency tested. Jerry breezes through it and thirty minutes later we’re issued a pass certificate.
By this time its too late to visit the vehicle licensing centre for issue of our Chinese driving licenses, so we make our way downtown and check into a hotel for the night. Only certain hotels in each city are permitted to accommodate foreign guests - Our hotel is a very smart, marble clad four star facility - But at £18 a night, it doesn’t break the bank.
The weather keeps on getting colder, the TV weather forecaster says theres a good chance of snow tomorrow....
Monday, 25 October 2010
Horgas, China.
A great nights sleep but unfortunately its still raining...…A pain in the Alpha hole, because I was hoping to do some much needed maintenance to the car this morning. On the job card - Front wheel bearing adjustment, valve clearances and a brakes check.
Never mind.. we head into town to find some breakfast. In an effort to escape the freezing rain we dive into a local café and proceed to kick off the days first game of charades with a request for fried eggs and coffee. Nobody in this city speaks English, but my impression of cracking an egg and flipping it with a spatula does wonders, 5 minutes later out come 4 fried eggs on a plate, almost too easy!
Bolstered by my success with the eggs order I decide to try again - We really need some bread to go with the eggs. I make another impression which I thought was pretty good - Me, cutting a loaf of bread and putting the slices into a toaster, its obviously bread that I’m after. What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing! I’m in luck - The waitress nods her head frantically, gives me the thumbs up and jogs out into the street, only to return 2 minutes later with a huge bowl of egg fried rice topped with what looks like chopped up frog. Good effort but no cigar..
After breakfast we meet up with Serena to get the latest from customs - They need more time, the police chief needs to sign the form, but he’s not around until tonight. The rain is starting to ease off, so I crack on with the work to the car - As soon as I break out the tools, a gang of very drunk locals appear in the car park. They love the car and want to know everything about it, fortunately Serena is there to act as translator.
There’s usually a reason why 7 people are drunk before lunchtime, Serena explains that today marks 100 days since the birth of one of their sons. Sounds like a good enough excuse to me. It turns out that the guys all work at our hotel, they’re all bosses and they’re really REALLY keen for us to join them for more drinks. The whole time I’m working on the car they’re right there pestering Serena to ask us to join them for beers.
I finish off the work to the car and Serena calls Customs for the latest update - Still no sign of the head honcho that needs to sign us off before we can leave. Our first scheduled drive is several hours long and its already 4pm, our decision is swayed by the party invitation & we deem it to be too late in the day to leave now. Our best bet is clearly to join in with the party, help the guys drink the 3 cases of ’Wusu’ beer they’ve just unloaded and re-assess the situation in the morning.
Into the hotel Karaoke bar and its beer carnage. Our hosts make it clear that today is a big celebration and that we‘re now guests of honour. On offer- All the beer, local wine (Whiskey) and whiskey you can drink, and its all on the house - Hearing this, I consider it only right and proper to test all three drinks to help perpetuate the celebratory atmosphere.
Thirty minutes later we’re on stage and going for gold with our best rendition of “You’ve lost that loving feeling”… The locals hit back with their favourite song, a jazzy little number entitled “Japan, you will never take China”…..(!) Later we’re told that there’s a huge amount of anti-Japanese sentiment in the air at the moment - Something to do with Japan claiming a Chinese island as their own the week before. People have even been smashing up Japanese cars in the street, so long as Germany doesnt invade any Chinese territory in the next 2 weeks Jerry should make it out OK.
Before we know it we’re mates with one of the hotels owners, he breaks out the best Chinese wine available and a bottle of Johnny Walker. This is followed up by a box of gifts for Becky and one for Serena. The same guy is also a high ranking official in the local Police force - More than a little worse for wear he convinces himself that we must have the Chinese press there to cover our trip, and that they should come immediately. Well, this guy must have had some sway, ten minutes later there’s a TV film crew knocking at the door of the bar!
We head outside, pose for still pictures and they run a small feature in Chinese for the local TV station. (See pic) We retire to the bar for a few more beers and the rest, as they say, is history…...
Never mind.. we head into town to find some breakfast. In an effort to escape the freezing rain we dive into a local café and proceed to kick off the days first game of charades with a request for fried eggs and coffee. Nobody in this city speaks English, but my impression of cracking an egg and flipping it with a spatula does wonders, 5 minutes later out come 4 fried eggs on a plate, almost too easy!
Bolstered by my success with the eggs order I decide to try again - We really need some bread to go with the eggs. I make another impression which I thought was pretty good - Me, cutting a loaf of bread and putting the slices into a toaster, its obviously bread that I’m after. What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing! I’m in luck - The waitress nods her head frantically, gives me the thumbs up and jogs out into the street, only to return 2 minutes later with a huge bowl of egg fried rice topped with what looks like chopped up frog. Good effort but no cigar..
After breakfast we meet up with Serena to get the latest from customs - They need more time, the police chief needs to sign the form, but he’s not around until tonight. The rain is starting to ease off, so I crack on with the work to the car - As soon as I break out the tools, a gang of very drunk locals appear in the car park. They love the car and want to know everything about it, fortunately Serena is there to act as translator.
There’s usually a reason why 7 people are drunk before lunchtime, Serena explains that today marks 100 days since the birth of one of their sons. Sounds like a good enough excuse to me. It turns out that the guys all work at our hotel, they’re all bosses and they’re really REALLY keen for us to join them for more drinks. The whole time I’m working on the car they’re right there pestering Serena to ask us to join them for beers.
I finish off the work to the car and Serena calls Customs for the latest update - Still no sign of the head honcho that needs to sign us off before we can leave. Our first scheduled drive is several hours long and its already 4pm, our decision is swayed by the party invitation & we deem it to be too late in the day to leave now. Our best bet is clearly to join in with the party, help the guys drink the 3 cases of ’Wusu’ beer they’ve just unloaded and re-assess the situation in the morning.
Into the hotel Karaoke bar and its beer carnage. Our hosts make it clear that today is a big celebration and that we‘re now guests of honour. On offer- All the beer, local wine (Whiskey) and whiskey you can drink, and its all on the house - Hearing this, I consider it only right and proper to test all three drinks to help perpetuate the celebratory atmosphere.
Thirty minutes later we’re on stage and going for gold with our best rendition of “You’ve lost that loving feeling”… The locals hit back with their favourite song, a jazzy little number entitled “Japan, you will never take China”…..(!) Later we’re told that there’s a huge amount of anti-Japanese sentiment in the air at the moment - Something to do with Japan claiming a Chinese island as their own the week before. People have even been smashing up Japanese cars in the street, so long as Germany doesnt invade any Chinese territory in the next 2 weeks Jerry should make it out OK.
Before we know it we’re mates with one of the hotels owners, he breaks out the best Chinese wine available and a bottle of Johnny Walker. This is followed up by a box of gifts for Becky and one for Serena. The same guy is also a high ranking official in the local Police force - More than a little worse for wear he convinces himself that we must have the Chinese press there to cover our trip, and that they should come immediately. Well, this guy must have had some sway, ten minutes later there’s a TV film crew knocking at the door of the bar!
We head outside, pose for still pictures and they run a small feature in Chinese for the local TV station. (See pic) We retire to the bar for a few more beers and the rest, as they say, is history…...
Into China..
First off, a brief introduction on driving your car into China.
1. Its bloody hard to arrange and its almost prohibitively expensive. Up until fairly recently it was illegal for a foreigner to drive their car into China - But following the change in the law, a couple of specialist firms have popped up offering a bespoke import service.
This border entry took a lot of advance planning with our Chinese tour company, and even after the comprehensive planning it took them another 2 months to arrange the vast array of permits required. Permissions are needed from central government, local government, the army, the police, customs, immigration and every province and district that you drive through etc...
2. Chinese law requires..
a) The tour company to appoint a guide to sit in the vehicle with you whilst you’re driving - We've been told that this is designed to deter James Bond types from being too snap happy with their camera. Our guide has strict instructions not to let us drive past or even near to a military installation etc..
b) The vehicle to have a Chinese MOT test
c) The drivers to be issued with Chinese photo card driving licences (What a cool souvenir!)
d) The car to be issued with Chinese number plates - Another great souvenir.
e) You to specify a fixed route in advance - You cant deviate from this.
Right, enough of the rules and regulations, back to the blog!
Rise and shine…Its time to find out if the Kazak passport police are happy with the number of stamps in our passport… Out to the carpark and the drunk lorry driver from the night before is looking more than a little ropey but still manages a big grin “ I OK, wodka, no goood. Good luck you ma freeeends!”
Back to the border and its all looking good, in less than an hour we’re through Kazak customs and motoring through no mans land towards the Chinese border. The final word from Kazak customs is that we should expect to see them again in less than an hour, hardly anyone gets into China with a car, everyone is sent back to Kazakstan. Fortunately for us, I’ve been using the most professional firm in China to arrange our entry and it was to be entirely hassle free. See you later Kazakstan! Much, much later...
We pull up to the border, a much more formal affair than anything we’ve seen so far. A large Chinese flag billows proudly in the breeze. A soldier walks over to us and spotting our weird GB number plate, forms a cross with his arms and gestures for us to turn around. Just up ahead, camouflaged soldiers with machine guns stare down at us from imposing watch towers that line the road.
We sit tight, eventually a Chinese military officer in pristine dress uniform marches over to the car. He speaks better English than me, I explain that we have a guide waiting for us at the border with all of the required entry permits (Circa 300 sheets of paper I’m told). He’s relieved to hear this and says our tour company must have friends in high places, even today its tricky to get a foreign car into the country.
This officer was to prove a great help, after the initial formalities coversation soon turns to beer, football, Porsches and iPhones. My request for some definitive instruction on the correct pronounciation of “TsingTao” Chinese beer proved to be a great ice breaker! (ChingDao in case you wondered)
He calls our guide “Serena” and issues permission for her to enter the border zone to come and meet us. Five minutes later she arrives and the rest is history, she talks us through every step of the import process and several hours later we’re unleashed onto Chinese roads. Released, but not entirely free. Customs say they need more time to process our permits, so they escort us to a local hotel for the night and we’re told to call again in the morning.
The weather on the day of our aborted entry was superb, hot and sunny, probably about 80 degrees. Things are very different now though, its freezing cold and raining heavily…Hopefully the sun will make a re-appearance soon.
We check into a local hotel, the power for the whole city is down because of the heavy rain, so we retire to our room for some sleep. Later on we head into town for a bowl of delicious homemade noodles and some local beer. (£1 a head for food and beer. Yes, £1 !)
In less than a Kilometre from Kazakstan the food has changed entirely. Out with the dodgy Russian grub and in with noodles, stir fried dishes and fried chickens feet, but more about those later..
1. Its bloody hard to arrange and its almost prohibitively expensive. Up until fairly recently it was illegal for a foreigner to drive their car into China - But following the change in the law, a couple of specialist firms have popped up offering a bespoke import service.
This border entry took a lot of advance planning with our Chinese tour company, and even after the comprehensive planning it took them another 2 months to arrange the vast array of permits required. Permissions are needed from central government, local government, the army, the police, customs, immigration and every province and district that you drive through etc...
2. Chinese law requires..
a) The tour company to appoint a guide to sit in the vehicle with you whilst you’re driving - We've been told that this is designed to deter James Bond types from being too snap happy with their camera. Our guide has strict instructions not to let us drive past or even near to a military installation etc..
b) The vehicle to have a Chinese MOT test
c) The drivers to be issued with Chinese photo card driving licences (What a cool souvenir!)
d) The car to be issued with Chinese number plates - Another great souvenir.
e) You to specify a fixed route in advance - You cant deviate from this.
Right, enough of the rules and regulations, back to the blog!
Rise and shine…Its time to find out if the Kazak passport police are happy with the number of stamps in our passport… Out to the carpark and the drunk lorry driver from the night before is looking more than a little ropey but still manages a big grin “ I OK, wodka, no goood. Good luck you ma freeeends!”
Back to the border and its all looking good, in less than an hour we’re through Kazak customs and motoring through no mans land towards the Chinese border. The final word from Kazak customs is that we should expect to see them again in less than an hour, hardly anyone gets into China with a car, everyone is sent back to Kazakstan. Fortunately for us, I’ve been using the most professional firm in China to arrange our entry and it was to be entirely hassle free. See you later Kazakstan! Much, much later...
We pull up to the border, a much more formal affair than anything we’ve seen so far. A large Chinese flag billows proudly in the breeze. A soldier walks over to us and spotting our weird GB number plate, forms a cross with his arms and gestures for us to turn around. Just up ahead, camouflaged soldiers with machine guns stare down at us from imposing watch towers that line the road.
We sit tight, eventually a Chinese military officer in pristine dress uniform marches over to the car. He speaks better English than me, I explain that we have a guide waiting for us at the border with all of the required entry permits (Circa 300 sheets of paper I’m told). He’s relieved to hear this and says our tour company must have friends in high places, even today its tricky to get a foreign car into the country.
This officer was to prove a great help, after the initial formalities coversation soon turns to beer, football, Porsches and iPhones. My request for some definitive instruction on the correct pronounciation of “TsingTao” Chinese beer proved to be a great ice breaker! (ChingDao in case you wondered)
He calls our guide “Serena” and issues permission for her to enter the border zone to come and meet us. Five minutes later she arrives and the rest is history, she talks us through every step of the import process and several hours later we’re unleashed onto Chinese roads. Released, but not entirely free. Customs say they need more time to process our permits, so they escort us to a local hotel for the night and we’re told to call again in the morning.
The weather on the day of our aborted entry was superb, hot and sunny, probably about 80 degrees. Things are very different now though, its freezing cold and raining heavily…Hopefully the sun will make a re-appearance soon.
We check into a local hotel, the power for the whole city is down because of the heavy rain, so we retire to our room for some sleep. Later on we head into town for a bowl of delicious homemade noodles and some local beer. (£1 a head for food and beer. Yes, £1 !)
In less than a Kilometre from Kazakstan the food has changed entirely. Out with the dodgy Russian grub and in with noodles, stir fried dishes and fried chickens feet, but more about those later..
Friday, 22 October 2010
Almaty to China - Stage 2 complete !
I still cant believe it, we’re exactly on schedule and are all set to meet our guide at the Chinese border on the 18th. Keen to keep ahead of the game, we decide to position ourselves at the Chinese border the night before.
The road to the border is brilliant, just an hour outside of Almaty the urban sprawl ends and we start to head out into a vast desert wilderness. The terrain is very similar to the desert regions of the Western United States, wide open spaces peppered with rock formations, ravines and canyons.
We make our way to Charyne Canyon an ancient natural valley created by erosion from a local river. The water is fast flowing with a slightly blue hue, typically Asian looking yellow trees line the river banks, it’s a peaceful place and unbelievably picturesque. (See picture gallery photos)
After a wander down the river and quite a few pictures, we head back to the car and crack on towards the border. Daylight fades as we near the border town of Horgas, the headlights do a mediocre job of illuminating the bumpy road ahead. Suddenly there’s a strange smell in the car, no not Becky but the sickly sweet smell of burning Bakelite……The headlights start to flicker but fortunately don’t fail.
We definitely cant stop here, so I decide that unless things get drastically worse, we’ll carry on and check it over at the hotel. Two minutes later both headlights jam on in the full beam position, inconvenient for the oncoming traffic, but also for me as every car blinded by the lights does the same to me with theirs.
We’re running low on gas, but fortunately we’re almost out of the desert. Pulling into civilisation and the first fuel station in ages, we’re greeted by a stocky guy cradling a pump action shotgun. You know you’re in a dodgy area when the fuel station attendant needs a shotgun to do his job….! (See pic)
Whilst re-fuelling, a smart Mercedes S class pulls into the garage. The driver jumps out and walks over, he speaks a little English and is fascinated by the car and our journey - We ask if he knows a hotel nearby, he does and gestures for us to follow him there. I was a little wary of this guy, his face was busted up and scarred, his left eye badly punched up, but he seemed genuine enough and very willing to help us out.
Arriving at the hotel he goes out of his way to arrange a room for us and joins us at the bar for a beer and a bite to eat. Unfortunately we never made a note of his name, but he was an absolute legend , one of the best. We quickly learn that his injuries are down to his job, he’s one of the top boxing champions in Kazakstan. His next big fight is at the Flamingo Casino in Las vegas sometime in November.
The next morning we drive the final 2km to the border, the Kazak guards wave us through to the customs office as priority traffic, the sun is shining and we’re pretty pleased with ourselves - We made it to the border exactly on schedule and everything is looking good…..A customs official walks over to check my passport, he quickly flicks through to the page with my Kazakstan visa and nods his head slowly....
Theres a problem, he gestures for me to read the small print on the rear of the piece of paper stapled to my passport on entry into Kazakstan “VISITORS MUST REGISTER WITH THE IMMIGRATION POLICE WITHIN 5 DAYS OF ENTERING KAZAKSTAN. FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RENDER THE OFFENDER SUBJECT TO PUNISHMENT UNDER KAZAK LAW” Wait a minute…carry the two….add the three….we must have been in country for 6 or 7 days by now…?....
Big deal! I explain that we didn’t know anything about it, and we only want to leave not enter, but he doesn’t look happy. His superior walks over and explains that we need TWO rubber stamps on our visa in order to be able to leave Kazakstan. We didn’t register with the special "immigration police" and have been in country over 5 days, so we’ve broken two rules - The kazak authorities are big on red tape, rubber stamps, useless scraps of paper with official stamps on and receipts of all kinds.
Evidently breaking these rules is a big deal and the chief guy isn’t happy. “You…..You….You must register. Register now!” Surely we can do it here at the international land border? Nope, he draws a map and instructs us to drive back out of the border zone to the nearby town of Zharkent, 30km due West. There’s an immigration police office there, they’ll be able to unwind things for us.
This is bad news, our Chinese guide was waiting for us on the Chinese side of the border and this episode was going to make us late…All this for one rubber stamp. Pointless state burocracy is the perfect way to keep the masses employed in poor states.My personal favourite is Cambodian customs, where a line of eight customs officers process your visa on arrival.
(Man #1 opens your passport and hands it to man #2 who stamps it and hands it to man #3. Who checks the stamp and hands it to man #4 etc....)
I digress...We speed out of the border zone and into Zharkent, a ramshackle town in the middle of nowhere. We soon track down the police station and queue up to speak with the officer on duty. He takes one look at our passport and shouts “ALMATY!” What?……Did he just say Almaty? As in the Almaty that we were in yesterday? The Almaty that’s 400km away through the desert? Surely not, there must be some mistake. I try to ask some questions but he doesn’t speak English, his reply: “ALMATY, ALMATY, ALMATY, ALMATY, ALMATY !!!!” I was more p’d off than I’ve been in a long long time, to make things worse he’s got the biggest grin on his face imaginable. He knows Almaty is an 800km return trip and he’s loving it.
He MUST be able stamp it, surely he’s just being awkward? I pull out a $100 bill and say “Straf” (fine), a feint effort at disguising the fact that I’m offering him a bribe to stamp our passports. His eyes nearly pop out of his head, but its now obvious that there really is nothing he can do…Confronted by an even bigger grin I ask for his “Nachalnik” (Superior officer), another guy wanders over and explains their boss is in Almaty for three days. Great…
Theres nothing we can do, the quicker we leave, the quicker we get back. One thing was certain, we weren’t going to be crossing into China today. The ride back to the capital was an incredibly gutting 4.5 hours of desert driving . The process of getting “the stamp” proves to be incredibly long winded and tedious…numerous forms to complete plus copies of all our documents etc… The fine is $100 a head.
As usual, nobody in the customs office speaks any English and its due to shut any minute. Out of nowhere a lady walks in off the street, she speaks fluent English and offers to help me complete all the forms and arrange the payment. An absolute God send, without her help we’d probably still be there…If you’re reading this, I cant thank you enough.
Its dark so we head back to Hotel Astra for something to eat. I ask the receptionist to check our passports to verify they’re definitely in order. She says she’s not sure, the rules change so often that nobody really knows them anymore, but she’s fairly certain we’re still one stamp missing. The last time she checked you needed three stamps and not two…She could ask her boss, but he’s sick. AAAAGGGHHH !!!
We decide to talk our chances and head back to the border anyway. After a lightning fast meal and three cans of Red Bull, we jump back in the car - It was right about this time I remembered that Jerrys lights were jammed on full beam….. This was going to be an interesting drive. Five gruelling hours later we arrive back at the border town hotel. Partially blind from literally hundreds of main beam jousts with oncoming traffic and very, very tired. Its 2:15am.
At the hotel car park we’re accosted by a drunk Russian truck driver who loves the car. He staggers around the car park swigging from a Vodka bottle, proudly giving us his best rendition of Michael Jacksons “I’m Bad”. “I baaaaa, I baaaaaa, u know, I baaaaaa” Simon Cowell wouldn’t have been impressed, damn funny though!
Stage 2 complete
Istanbul to China = 6,650 km
Distance travelled to date = 9,750km
Fuel burnt = We lost count, garages stopped issuing receipts way back in Georgia.
Punctures = 0
Spare wheels on board = 3 (I’m starting to hope we need to use at least one spare!…)
Speeding tickets received = 7
Fan belts changed = 0
Spare fan belts on board = 5...
Number of times we’ve washed the car = 0
Current favourite songs on the iPod = Deep Purple “Highway Star” and James Gang “Funk #49 “
Breakdowns = 0
Arguments = 2.5
Amount of pointless red tape encountered = Miles and miles..
Worst police = AZERBAIJAN - No Contest
Best police = Georgia
Bribes paid = Some
Current topics of conversation = The state of the last toilet we used, our dog “Bramble”, my aunties newborn baby ‘Freddie’, my brother-in-law Matty learning to fly, Angel City Flyers at Long Beach airport, houses in Thailand and my mate Tim in Hong Kong who’s meeting us for a ‘few quiet beers’ in Saigon if we get there….
The road to the border is brilliant, just an hour outside of Almaty the urban sprawl ends and we start to head out into a vast desert wilderness. The terrain is very similar to the desert regions of the Western United States, wide open spaces peppered with rock formations, ravines and canyons.
We make our way to Charyne Canyon an ancient natural valley created by erosion from a local river. The water is fast flowing with a slightly blue hue, typically Asian looking yellow trees line the river banks, it’s a peaceful place and unbelievably picturesque. (See picture gallery photos)
After a wander down the river and quite a few pictures, we head back to the car and crack on towards the border. Daylight fades as we near the border town of Horgas, the headlights do a mediocre job of illuminating the bumpy road ahead. Suddenly there’s a strange smell in the car, no not Becky but the sickly sweet smell of burning Bakelite……The headlights start to flicker but fortunately don’t fail.
We definitely cant stop here, so I decide that unless things get drastically worse, we’ll carry on and check it over at the hotel. Two minutes later both headlights jam on in the full beam position, inconvenient for the oncoming traffic, but also for me as every car blinded by the lights does the same to me with theirs.
We’re running low on gas, but fortunately we’re almost out of the desert. Pulling into civilisation and the first fuel station in ages, we’re greeted by a stocky guy cradling a pump action shotgun. You know you’re in a dodgy area when the fuel station attendant needs a shotgun to do his job….! (See pic)
Whilst re-fuelling, a smart Mercedes S class pulls into the garage. The driver jumps out and walks over, he speaks a little English and is fascinated by the car and our journey - We ask if he knows a hotel nearby, he does and gestures for us to follow him there. I was a little wary of this guy, his face was busted up and scarred, his left eye badly punched up, but he seemed genuine enough and very willing to help us out.
Arriving at the hotel he goes out of his way to arrange a room for us and joins us at the bar for a beer and a bite to eat. Unfortunately we never made a note of his name, but he was an absolute legend , one of the best. We quickly learn that his injuries are down to his job, he’s one of the top boxing champions in Kazakstan. His next big fight is at the Flamingo Casino in Las vegas sometime in November.
The next morning we drive the final 2km to the border, the Kazak guards wave us through to the customs office as priority traffic, the sun is shining and we’re pretty pleased with ourselves - We made it to the border exactly on schedule and everything is looking good…..A customs official walks over to check my passport, he quickly flicks through to the page with my Kazakstan visa and nods his head slowly....
Theres a problem, he gestures for me to read the small print on the rear of the piece of paper stapled to my passport on entry into Kazakstan “VISITORS MUST REGISTER WITH THE IMMIGRATION POLICE WITHIN 5 DAYS OF ENTERING KAZAKSTAN. FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RENDER THE OFFENDER SUBJECT TO PUNISHMENT UNDER KAZAK LAW” Wait a minute…carry the two….add the three….we must have been in country for 6 or 7 days by now…?....
Big deal! I explain that we didn’t know anything about it, and we only want to leave not enter, but he doesn’t look happy. His superior walks over and explains that we need TWO rubber stamps on our visa in order to be able to leave Kazakstan. We didn’t register with the special "immigration police" and have been in country over 5 days, so we’ve broken two rules - The kazak authorities are big on red tape, rubber stamps, useless scraps of paper with official stamps on and receipts of all kinds.
Evidently breaking these rules is a big deal and the chief guy isn’t happy. “You…..You….You must register. Register now!” Surely we can do it here at the international land border? Nope, he draws a map and instructs us to drive back out of the border zone to the nearby town of Zharkent, 30km due West. There’s an immigration police office there, they’ll be able to unwind things for us.
This is bad news, our Chinese guide was waiting for us on the Chinese side of the border and this episode was going to make us late…All this for one rubber stamp. Pointless state burocracy is the perfect way to keep the masses employed in poor states.My personal favourite is Cambodian customs, where a line of eight customs officers process your visa on arrival.
(Man #1 opens your passport and hands it to man #2 who stamps it and hands it to man #3. Who checks the stamp and hands it to man #4 etc....)
I digress...We speed out of the border zone and into Zharkent, a ramshackle town in the middle of nowhere. We soon track down the police station and queue up to speak with the officer on duty. He takes one look at our passport and shouts “ALMATY!” What?……Did he just say Almaty? As in the Almaty that we were in yesterday? The Almaty that’s 400km away through the desert? Surely not, there must be some mistake. I try to ask some questions but he doesn’t speak English, his reply: “ALMATY, ALMATY, ALMATY, ALMATY, ALMATY !!!!” I was more p’d off than I’ve been in a long long time, to make things worse he’s got the biggest grin on his face imaginable. He knows Almaty is an 800km return trip and he’s loving it.
He MUST be able stamp it, surely he’s just being awkward? I pull out a $100 bill and say “Straf” (fine), a feint effort at disguising the fact that I’m offering him a bribe to stamp our passports. His eyes nearly pop out of his head, but its now obvious that there really is nothing he can do…Confronted by an even bigger grin I ask for his “Nachalnik” (Superior officer), another guy wanders over and explains their boss is in Almaty for three days. Great…
Theres nothing we can do, the quicker we leave, the quicker we get back. One thing was certain, we weren’t going to be crossing into China today. The ride back to the capital was an incredibly gutting 4.5 hours of desert driving . The process of getting “the stamp” proves to be incredibly long winded and tedious…numerous forms to complete plus copies of all our documents etc… The fine is $100 a head.
As usual, nobody in the customs office speaks any English and its due to shut any minute. Out of nowhere a lady walks in off the street, she speaks fluent English and offers to help me complete all the forms and arrange the payment. An absolute God send, without her help we’d probably still be there…If you’re reading this, I cant thank you enough.
Its dark so we head back to Hotel Astra for something to eat. I ask the receptionist to check our passports to verify they’re definitely in order. She says she’s not sure, the rules change so often that nobody really knows them anymore, but she’s fairly certain we’re still one stamp missing. The last time she checked you needed three stamps and not two…She could ask her boss, but he’s sick. AAAAGGGHHH !!!
We decide to talk our chances and head back to the border anyway. After a lightning fast meal and three cans of Red Bull, we jump back in the car - It was right about this time I remembered that Jerrys lights were jammed on full beam….. This was going to be an interesting drive. Five gruelling hours later we arrive back at the border town hotel. Partially blind from literally hundreds of main beam jousts with oncoming traffic and very, very tired. Its 2:15am.
At the hotel car park we’re accosted by a drunk Russian truck driver who loves the car. He staggers around the car park swigging from a Vodka bottle, proudly giving us his best rendition of Michael Jacksons “I’m Bad”. “I baaaaa, I baaaaaa, u know, I baaaaaa” Simon Cowell wouldn’t have been impressed, damn funny though!
Stage 2 complete
Istanbul to China = 6,650 km
Distance travelled to date = 9,750km
Fuel burnt = We lost count, garages stopped issuing receipts way back in Georgia.
Punctures = 0
Spare wheels on board = 3 (I’m starting to hope we need to use at least one spare!…)
Speeding tickets received = 7
Fan belts changed = 0
Spare fan belts on board = 5...
Number of times we’ve washed the car = 0
Current favourite songs on the iPod = Deep Purple “Highway Star” and James Gang “Funk #49 “
Breakdowns = 0
Arguments = 2.5
Amount of pointless red tape encountered = Miles and miles..
Worst police = AZERBAIJAN - No Contest
Best police = Georgia
Bribes paid = Some
Current topics of conversation = The state of the last toilet we used, our dog “Bramble”, my aunties newborn baby ‘Freddie’, my brother-in-law Matty learning to fly, Angel City Flyers at Long Beach airport, houses in Thailand and my mate Tim in Hong Kong who’s meeting us for a ‘few quiet beers’ in Saigon if we get there….
Thursday, 21 October 2010
Almaty, Almaty, Almaty...The city of a thousand yawns...
Almaty - October 14th
Becks is under the weather once again…Hopefully not a repeat of her first illness. We spend the whole day confined to our hotel room, hopefully the bug will sort itself out during the course of the day.
On the plus side, I get to spend the day catching up with the blog & answering emails.
Almaty - October 15th
Hurrah! Becks is feeling a little better, but we wander over to the nearby medical clinic just to be sure. Surprise surprise, the Russian doctor doesn’t speak any English, but fortunately the receptionist does, and tries her best to act as an intermediary translator.
After so many doctor visits we‘re now semi-pro at describing symptoms without speaking, so its no big deal. More medical tests…..The verdict? They reckon it’s the same bug as before, which is making a minor come back, a last stand. The Doc prescribes 4 different drugs including a course of antibiotics & reckons it will be cured in less than a week.
That night we catch a cab over to the “Tobe Kok” cable car at the South Eastern edge of town. Its described in the guide book as a sleek, recently refurbished gondola which glides its way to the summit of a small mountain on the edge of town…....When we get there we’re a little disappointed but not really surprised, to see what looks like a dodgy Russian greenhouse hanging for dear life from a rusty cable. Still, it’s a pleasant enough ride to the top, if a little unnerving at times.
The view from the summit is excellent, the bright lights of downtown Almaty stretch out for miles around us. On the walk back to the cable car we stumble across a roller coaster which snakes its way down to the bottom of the mountain - We’re both slightly tempted, but reckon it might be pushing our luck for one day, so we take our chances back on the cable car..
Almaty - October 16th
Our hotel in town is great, but the staff have been pretty rude right from the word go, we decide to move elsewhere. It seems to be the older generation of Russians that really arent too keen on Western Europeans - At checkout the moody Russian receptionist definitely has the last laugh as she hands me a $125 laundry bill. Mental note, always ask how much the laundry costs before handing them 5 carrier bags full of it…
Almaty is bordered by huge snow capped mountains which are only 20 minutes from the city centre by car. Seeing as we need to drive to our new hotel anyway, we decide to venture out of town to check out the mountain scenery.
A new toll road snakes its way into the mountains and up to huge lake nearing the summit. The scenary is stunning but the road is steep, steep, steep ! We push on as far as we can, but nearing the summit it becomes so ridiculously steep that even 4WD vehicles are turning back - Its probably not ideal for our clutch, so we call it a day about 500M from the top and pull over for a brew and a bite to eat.
I scoop some fresh spring water from a nearby mountain river, break out the petrol cooker and get lunch on the go. The Coleman stove proves to be absolutely brilliant and in no time at all we’re tucking into a hot meal. (See pics in gallery)
The engine is now due for another oil change, so the journey back to town is used to hunt down a garage. I spot a small oil service depot just on the edge of town and walk in to check it out - Neither of the two mechanics speak English, but luckily for us an English teacher is sat in the waiting room. Spotting our language problem she quickly sets about translating for us, a real life saver.
The mechanics are keen to work on the car and because we’re on a charity drive, they insist on taking care of the oil change for free. Just twenty minutes later we’re back on the road with new engine oil & filter - The guys did a great job of the oil service, so I ask our friend the English teacher if I can give them some money for helping me out. Something as a token of appreciation, even if its only $10. She quickly explains that $10 would be FOUR TIMES the cost of the work if they charged it out….They really wont take a penny, so we thank them once again and hit the road.
We find new lodgings at Hotel Astra, a really great place at the Northern edge of town with friendly staff, great rooms and good rates. Highly recommended, a great refuge from Almaty city.
That evening I use some down time to adjust the front wheel bearings on the car. Half way through I get a tap on the shoulder… Turning around I'm a little worried to see it’s a soldier, one of a ten man team on a night patrol around our neighbourhood - Carrying batons and torches they look pretty menacing, I cant imagine theres going to be any trouble around here tonight. The Captain explains that he spotted the car earlier and wants to get a photo of it for his son, I take the photo and the team disappear off into the night...
Becks is under the weather once again…Hopefully not a repeat of her first illness. We spend the whole day confined to our hotel room, hopefully the bug will sort itself out during the course of the day.
On the plus side, I get to spend the day catching up with the blog & answering emails.
Almaty - October 15th
Hurrah! Becks is feeling a little better, but we wander over to the nearby medical clinic just to be sure. Surprise surprise, the Russian doctor doesn’t speak any English, but fortunately the receptionist does, and tries her best to act as an intermediary translator.
After so many doctor visits we‘re now semi-pro at describing symptoms without speaking, so its no big deal. More medical tests…..The verdict? They reckon it’s the same bug as before, which is making a minor come back, a last stand. The Doc prescribes 4 different drugs including a course of antibiotics & reckons it will be cured in less than a week.
That night we catch a cab over to the “Tobe Kok” cable car at the South Eastern edge of town. Its described in the guide book as a sleek, recently refurbished gondola which glides its way to the summit of a small mountain on the edge of town…....When we get there we’re a little disappointed but not really surprised, to see what looks like a dodgy Russian greenhouse hanging for dear life from a rusty cable. Still, it’s a pleasant enough ride to the top, if a little unnerving at times.
The view from the summit is excellent, the bright lights of downtown Almaty stretch out for miles around us. On the walk back to the cable car we stumble across a roller coaster which snakes its way down to the bottom of the mountain - We’re both slightly tempted, but reckon it might be pushing our luck for one day, so we take our chances back on the cable car..
Almaty - October 16th
Our hotel in town is great, but the staff have been pretty rude right from the word go, we decide to move elsewhere. It seems to be the older generation of Russians that really arent too keen on Western Europeans - At checkout the moody Russian receptionist definitely has the last laugh as she hands me a $125 laundry bill. Mental note, always ask how much the laundry costs before handing them 5 carrier bags full of it…
Almaty is bordered by huge snow capped mountains which are only 20 minutes from the city centre by car. Seeing as we need to drive to our new hotel anyway, we decide to venture out of town to check out the mountain scenery.
A new toll road snakes its way into the mountains and up to huge lake nearing the summit. The scenary is stunning but the road is steep, steep, steep ! We push on as far as we can, but nearing the summit it becomes so ridiculously steep that even 4WD vehicles are turning back - Its probably not ideal for our clutch, so we call it a day about 500M from the top and pull over for a brew and a bite to eat.
I scoop some fresh spring water from a nearby mountain river, break out the petrol cooker and get lunch on the go. The Coleman stove proves to be absolutely brilliant and in no time at all we’re tucking into a hot meal. (See pics in gallery)
The engine is now due for another oil change, so the journey back to town is used to hunt down a garage. I spot a small oil service depot just on the edge of town and walk in to check it out - Neither of the two mechanics speak English, but luckily for us an English teacher is sat in the waiting room. Spotting our language problem she quickly sets about translating for us, a real life saver.
The mechanics are keen to work on the car and because we’re on a charity drive, they insist on taking care of the oil change for free. Just twenty minutes later we’re back on the road with new engine oil & filter - The guys did a great job of the oil service, so I ask our friend the English teacher if I can give them some money for helping me out. Something as a token of appreciation, even if its only $10. She quickly explains that $10 would be FOUR TIMES the cost of the work if they charged it out….They really wont take a penny, so we thank them once again and hit the road.
We find new lodgings at Hotel Astra, a really great place at the Northern edge of town with friendly staff, great rooms and good rates. Highly recommended, a great refuge from Almaty city.
That evening I use some down time to adjust the front wheel bearings on the car. Half way through I get a tap on the shoulder… Turning around I'm a little worried to see it’s a soldier, one of a ten man team on a night patrol around our neighbourhood - Carrying batons and torches they look pretty menacing, I cant imagine theres going to be any trouble around here tonight. The Captain explains that he spotted the car earlier and wants to get a photo of it for his son, I take the photo and the team disappear off into the night...
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